Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any characters associated with it.
A One Month Bet
This is insane!
Sakura chewed on her bottom lip until it felt raw. Indistinguishable thoughts raged through her mind, blurring her focus. Physical presence hardly mattered anymore; her surroundings—meaningless. Any practiced shinobi would've slapped her by now for her naivety, for her lack of caution. But Sakura did not care. She did not care about all the rules she was breaking or the fact she was in unfamiliar territory, with an unfamiliar man. She didn't even give notice to which direction they turned and after how many steps, or the way in which they'd arrived at this small, cramped staircase. It was positioned more like a ladder, the kind of provisional staircase used by builders not to get to the top of something, but as a means of getting down once the something was built.
"Ready?"
The first words he'd said to her since they left the kitchen.
Sakura took a hesitant breath and nodded, fingers clutched tightly to her glass so as to hide the nervous shaking in her hands. She could feel the cool sweat from the glass seeping through the fibers of the hastily wrapped napkin around it in the same way that she could feel the real sweat trickling down the back of her neck. How had they made it here so quickly? It felt as though no time at all had passed since they'd met in the kitchen. All she could remember since then was watching the back of Gaara's head lead her upward through dark corridors and staircases that she did not recognize, as well as the occasional backward glance he allowed to make sure she was still following him.
Gaara gave her a look that was difficult to read in the darkness. With his drink in one hand, he stooped over and started up the shallow ladder-stairs, pausing only for a moment to push open a hatch at the top. Sakura caught a glimpse of a navy-blue sky dotted with silver specks of light, while fresh moonlight spilled downward, bleaching the narrow staircase and stopping just in front of where she stood. She gulped. The roof.
Gaara took the few remaining steps ahead and disappeared through the gaping, oval hole. Before Sakura could blink, his face reemerged and a single hand extended down into where she stood in the shadows. Several seconds passed in which Sakura simply stared as his hand, the paleness of his skin in the moonlight and the way his red-embroidered sleeve dangled just below his wrist. Why are you being so hesitant? Inner Sakura scolded. Isn't this what you wanted?
It is.
Sakura pushed the stagnant air out of her chest and stepped into the light. The staircase was awkward, too shallow and too steep at the same time. Sakura could've handed Gaara her drink and tackled the slope on all fours, but she didn't want to lose the comfort of the glass in her hand. That drink was her only reminder of how real everything was: that it was more than just another dream about Gaara. She feared waking up and realizing the disillusion. This was real, this was actually happening, because Gaara had offered her a drink tonight. She would keep that drink with her at all times if it meant sustaining her lucidity.
Instead, she lifted her own hand to take his. The contact sent a jolt straight from her fingertips to her toes, lingering in the pit of her stomach where the butterflies were flocking. Sakura looked up quickly at the young man above her in just enough time to see his eyes flick from their hands to her face and then away again. But he gave her no time to ponder that moment. Sakura could barely contain her gasp of surprise as he lifted her upward, through the hatch, and onto the clay roof tiles. She stumbled a bit on the slanted surface but quickly regained her balance.
"Thank you," she said as she tucked a strand of pink behind her ear.
A single nod was her only response.
Gaara stepped carefully across the clay surface, feeling the familiar angle of the roof beneath his feet. He'd been here dozens of times, perhaps even hundreds, to come and stare out at the moon whenever the view from his window could not suffice. With the steady grace of a practiced warrior, Gaara eased into a sitting position with his knees angled outwards and his elbows rested atop them. He looked out and up at the moon, focusing on its bright face instead of the girl now slowly sitting down beside him to his right. She was so close that it was nearly unbearable—they weren't touching, no, but he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. So damn close.
Sakura exhaled a breathy sigh, and Gaara looked over to find her with her head arched back, eyes gazing at the sky. She quickly glanced at him, embarrassed, and shrugged. "I've never seen so many stars," she explained hurriedly, and her eyes lifted skyward once more. "The sky is so open here. You can see every single star." In Konoha, the trees had always obscured her view of the night sky. One had to climb a tree all the way to its crown in order to see more than small patches. In the desert, the heavens were able to expand above and beyond for all to see.
Gaara felt the corner of his mouth tug ever so slightly, and he took a small sip of his drink. The harsh sting of alcohol scorched his tongue before smoothing into a woody, honeyed finish. "Yes," was all he said.
Sakura looked to the man at her side and then down into the amber liquid in her glass. Gaara was such a confusing person. Two weeks ago, he hated her. Two weeks ago, anything he said to her was little more than condescending disapproval. Now they were sharing drinks on top of the Kazekage tower while gazing out over the skyline of Sunagakure. How strange and fickle fate could sometimes be.
They sat in silence for a while, neither one bold enough to address the other. Gaara took measured, periodic sips from his drink. He would soon run out. Sakura sipped on hers as well, but only hardly as much as her companion consumed. Unaccustomed to straight liquor, the bitter taste burned her mouth and left a fluttery feeling of nausea in her stomach if she swallowed too much too quickly. She had hoped that alcohol would diminish her nerves a bit in the same way it had on Saturday night, but so far it felt as though it was only making her sicker. Gaara, on the other hand, seemed not affected in the least by the half-glass he'd already downed.
And so they sat there together.
Sakura sipped.
Gaara sipped.
Sakura sighed.
Gaara took a moment to inwardly congratulate his skills in the art of deception. His breathing was even, his hands were steady. So far, there was nothing that threatened to visibly expose his inner anxiety. Not yet, anyways. He could hardly look at the woman beside him without remembering his indecent dream. He'd had enough clarity of mind to invite her to join him, to indulge in this surreal moment with her. And the effect was nothing less than thrilling. This spot, this roof top, had always been a mark of his solitude. It was his refuge, his haven during dark times when he had no real companions. Now, with Sakura at his side, it took on a completely new significance. The view was the same, the landscape was the same, but suddenly with the introduction of Sakura's presence, the experience was altered completely. He was sharing his haven with her: from that day forward, it would no longer belong to him alone. And what's more, Gaara accepted this fact—wanted it even. He wanted to share it with her...
What a strange new feeling…
He watched his guest through corner of his eye, keeping his face angled outward so as not to alert her attention. She was being oddly quiet—understandable, considering the circumstances. Although Gaara had already decided to put certain morals and responsibilities aside, it was likely that Sakura was still struggling internally with their current situation. Of course, it was no cake-walk for the young Kazekage, either, but so far, he'd been the one calling the shots. It made little difference that he didn't actually know what he was doing in regard to being hospitable. Sakura had merely agreed to participate. Gaara did know one thing, however: it was more likely than not that their night together would be short lived unless one person or the other initiated conversation. And from the look of things, Sakura was not volunteering herself. Gaara took another small sip of his drink, for courage. He cleared his throat but continued to look forward. Just say something, he commanded himself, Anything.
"So…How about that weather?"
And thus the silence was shattered.
Sakura laughed, and Gaara felt his chest constrict. Sure, his small-talk skills were—wildly under practiced…but the tinkle of Sakura's laughter surprised and shocked him. It was a sound he had not expected to hear. Contrary to the tough, rugged façade she displayed as a working kunoichi, her laughter was refreshing and light. There were no snorts, honks, or any other sort of undesirable sounds. There was no screeching, hissing, or even any kind of strange rhythm to it. It was just a simple, open, honest laugh—modest and hearty. It made the tension between their bodies dissipate for a moment, clearing the air. Gaara was able to glimpse, if only for a moment, into the woman behind the warrior. He saw her true smile break free, no longer hidden behind her insecurities. It was…beautiful.
"The weather?" Sakura chuckled. Another bubble of laughter escaped, though this time smaller, as she repeated Gaara's question in her head. Hey, at least he made an attempt. And what are you doing in response? Laughing at him? Nice, Haruno. Sakura immediately quieted, suddenly ashamed of her outburst. "I'm sorry," she said, "I just… I'm sorry. I hadn't, um, expected you to talk about the…nevermind."
How could she sound like such a disrespectful idiot? Maybe it was the alcohol, finally settling in to tamper with simple mental functions like forming coherent sentences and knowing when to just shut the hell up. Gaara flicked her a sideward glance and ducked his head a bit. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. Talking business was easy. Discussing politics was cake. Trying to have a conversation with a barely clothed, attractive young woman while sitting alone on a rooftop in the middle of the night with half a glass of liquor fogging his mind…?
Damn near impossible.
You brought yourself into this, you fool, he inwardly scolded. You wanted a second chance, did you not? Do not let this opportunity be wasted! Sakura had opened up, if only a small amount, at his previous attempt at conversation, but had immediately clammed back up afterward. Why was she so afraid? He needed to find something that could engage her fully, something she could finally feel comfortable with. Gaara looked up into the heavens again—searching for what, he did not know. A more appealing conversation topic, perhaps?
What? Do you expect it to be spelled out in the stars or something? Idiot.
What would a woman like Sakura be interested in? He hardly knew her at all. Her village, her rank…old news. What kind of person was she really? Strong, obviously: mentally and physically. Loyal, as displayed by her devotion to her friends and village. Responsible, yes. Stubborn, definitely.
But what sort of things could the pair of them actually converse about?
"Gaara?"
He felt the air hitch in his throat when she said his name. He turned to look at her, taking in every detail of her pale porcelain features. She looked troubled, perhaps even upset. "Why did you bring me here?" she asked.
Gaara swallowed thickly. Best to answer honestly, I suppose. "I used to come here as a child," he explained, "I would come and watch the moon." Gaara hesitated for a moment, anticipating the revival of his inhibitions, but they did not come. He felt no embarrassment or intuitive caution at sharing this intimate detail with Sakura. Maybe it was because of the alcohol, or maybe it was something more. This woman, little though he may know about her, was not a threat and he felt no admonitory hesitance about speaking openly with her. For once, just once, Gaara felt that he could relax his guard.
This time, Sakura did not laugh. She simply gazed at him inquisitively, as though she was not quite sure of his response. Gaara was being surprisingly open with her, and she did not know precisely how to react. Instead, she drew her knees up to her chin and followed his line of sight. "The moon is beautiful tonight," she said finally.
"It's always beautiful," Gaara said quietly.
Sakura tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and hugged her knees. Beautiful. It was odd to think that Gaara—cold, callous Gaara—found anything beautiful. Don't be so shallow, she cautioned herself. There was no reason why Gaara shouldn't find the moon beautiful. He was human, after all, regardless of any past split-consciousness. Sakura chewed on her bottom lip. What other sort of things would someone like Gaara consider beautiful?
Keep your head clear, kid, Inner Sakura warned. But her curiosity did not wane. Why was he sharing these things with her? Something significant had shifted, but Sakura had yet to figure out what it was. "But why…" she paused, unsure whether to pursue the issue. Gaara turned his attention her, but she turned away, suddenly embarrassed again.
"What?" he inquired.
"Why would you bring me here?" she asked quietly. She chose not to elaborate, silently hoping he would understand. Why would he share such private thoughts with her? What had she done to induce his trust? It made no sense to her—she'd barely even seen him face-to-face, much less talk to him, in days. Why her? Why this place? Why now?
Sakura watched as Gaara ran a single hand through his hair, momentarily revealing the mark on his brow. She traced every line with her eyes, memorizing its shape and outline. All too soon, it was once again hidden by the shag of his dark red hair. He closed his eyes and sighed, the black shading of his lids blending seamlessly into the rings around them and forming deep, ebony ovals against the perfection of his light-colored skin.
Why had he brought Sakura to this place, specifically? The longer Gaara thought about it, the less he understood it himself. He'd wanted to, that much was certain. But he could not discern why. He'd had no plan tonight, no prior scheming involved. All he knew was that he'd hoped for another chance with Sakura, and when the fates had acted in his favor tonight, he had not hesitated. Since initially inviting her to join him in the kitchen, he'd acted completely on impulse. This is where he would've gone to drink alone, and so this was where he'd brought her with him. It felt natural, almost, and yet he'd never brought anyone else to this specific spot. As far as Gaara could figure, he'd been—as Kankuro would say—making it up as he went the whole time, from offering her a drink to attempting conversation. The truth of the matter was…well…Gaara really had no idea what he was doing.
But, prideful as the young Kazekage was, that was not something he would readily admit to anyone, leastways the one woman whose companionship he was trying to encourage. As a leader he was blunt and honest, but as a man? He felt the same insecurity as any man would feel when trying to impress an attractive young woman. He had to appear confident, in control, at all times.
But Sakura continued to gaze at him with that worried, unsure face, patiently awaiting his answer. What reason did he have in including her with this sentimental place? Why would he willingly allow her presence to encroach upon his precious solitude? Why would he bring her here?
"Because."
Gaara immediately bit his tongue. How old are you? Five?
Sakura's shoulders slumped, and her features shifted from worry to blatant confusion. "Because?" she echoed, "You brought me here…because?"
Gaara's pride winced. Soon Sakura's confusion would turn to indignance, and he would deserve it. He'd been Kazekage for almost half a decade, and the best explanation he could manage was 'because'? You really are a disgrace.
Suddenly Sakura bent her head downward, and her shoulders began to shake. Her hair escaped the hook behind her ear and swung down to shield her face from him. Gaara watched in dismay. What was happening? Was she… He gulped… Was she crying? He would never forgive himself.
He opened his mouth to try and console her, but he was cut off by a new sort of sound. Small bursts of laughter began to escape and grow with intensity, but it was not the same sort of warm laughter he'd heard earlier. It was too short, too…bitter. Sakura finally lifted her face, and Gaara could finally see the expression on her face. It was not light and happy, as it had been when she laughed before. The corners of her mouth were tilted upward, but her eyes revealed the truth within. She looked distressed and defeated. Why this sudden change? What had he done? Gaara could think of nothing to say as she continued laughing.
Sakura finally began to calm down, and she placed a hand over her mouth. The irony was simply too much to take anymore. Gaara was, undoubtedly, the most confusing person she'd ever met. Who are you? she wanted to ask. What have you done with the Kazekage? This just couldn't be the man she'd encountered on her first day in Suna, it just… couldn't be. In an attempt to drown out her confusion, Sakura took an uncharacteristically large gulp of her drink. Her lucidity, as well as her taste buds, protested, and she had to gather all her willpower to swallow it down. It felt like acid burning down her throat and even into her stomach. She coughed and rolled her body partially to the side, praying for the liquor to stay down. She could not imagine what would happen if she puked, except for the fact that everything would suddenly be ruined. A small, slowly diminishing part of her sanity wanted that to happen. At least that way it would prevent this conversation from escalating any further, prevent her from making any more destructive decisions. If she got sick then and there, she would have to go back down to her bed and pretend that this… this moment…had never happened. It was unlikely that Gaara would mention it again, so she could just go about her life pretending that it had never actually happened, that it was only her imagination, that it was a dream.
No! Inner Sakura screamed. Please, just once, just this once, please just go with it. Sakura's eyes widened. Please just give in to it… She could feel the bile rising in her throat, and for a frightening moment, she felt as though she would not be able to stop it. I'm sorry, she whispered in her mind.
A large warm hand closed on her shoulder. Sakura felt a jolt of shock and she sucked in a breath of cool air. The sick feeling within was pushed backward. All the warmth retreated from her head and face. She turned quickly to look at Gaara. His eyes were wide, stark white against the black rings of his eyes. He'd never anticipated such a reaction. She'd swallowed at least half of her drink. "Sakura…?" he asked quietly. She looked even paler in the moonlight than she had before. The young woman blinked several times at him, still half-way turned away. She finally flicked her gaze down at his hand on her shoulder, and he slowly retracted it. Sakura shuddered and straightened her back, slowly pulling her knees toward her chest. She refused to look at him again.
What were you thinking? She berated herself, Are you insane?
Maybe.
Gaara's voice drew her back to the moment. "Sakura?" he said again. "Are you… alright?"
Sakura scoffed. "Yes, I'm fine," she answered curtly. Gaara scowled and turned away. Why was she suddenly being so harsh to him? A hazy memory suddenly sparked to life: Maybe it was because of the drink… He'd wondered before what type of drunk Sakura was. Perhaps she was an angry drunk, after all. But Gaara's thoughts were quickly interrupted as Sakura shifted at his side.
She placed her drink beside her carefully so it would not slide on the slanted surface and hugged her knees tightly. "I just," she began and stopped. She bit her lip and shook her head slowly, her pink hair swinging back and forth. "I just don't understand…" She sighed. Gaara remained silent, fearing she would discontinue her thoughts if he interrupted her. She tucked her hair back hastily and turned to face him.
"You," she finally finished, "I don't understand you. At all."
Gaara didn't know whether or not to feel relieved. She still looked extremely upset and distressed, but at least she wasn't leaving, and she didn't seem to be physically sick anymore. Perhaps Sakura was waiting for a response, because she only seemed to become more flustered when he said nothing. She ran a hand through her hair. "You are just so…so… I mean you say things that… And I never know if you're just…You just act so differently from day to day…But then sometimes it's as if… And I can never tell if…"
Damn. Of all the times for speech coherency to abandon her…
Her adrenaline and chakra were building with her frustration, and she slammed a fist down, accidentally cracking several tiles. She jolted backward in surprise. "Shit!" she cried, "I'm—I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I—"
"It's fine," Gaara said quietly. He knew she could've very easily punched a hole through the roof if she'd really wanted to. A few cracked tiles was nothing. He only wished he could understand why she was suddenly so upset. Her babbling was, dare he think it, cute, but it still worried him. He knew it was somehow his fault, but he couldn't comprehend what he'd done.
Sakura sighed again, this time more wearily. She again pulled her knees close and rested her chin on them. Just say it. It's only going to bother you and get worse until you confront him. She chewed on her lip nervously. "You confuse me," she eventually whispered, so quietly that Gaara could barely hear her.
"I would say that's mutual…"
Sakura glanced up to see Gaara gazing at her, but his expression was unreadable behind the shags of his red hair. Sakura blushed hotly. This was her moment to try and clear the air. "When I first came here, you wanted to send me back. Now you tell me to call you by your first name, and you invited me to have drinks with you, and you've brought me to this place that you said you used to visit as a child. It must be special to you, at least a little bit. And I've been so stressed lately, trying to figure it all out, and…" Her chin slid downward, concealing most of her face beneath her knees. Gaara could hardly understand her when she said, "I've just decided to give up trying."
Gaara inhaled and exhaled slowly. So that was it. He assumed that she simply didn't want to breach the topic of Saturday, and so he wouldn't mention it either. In truth, he really didn't know who should be blamed: himself for inadvertently becoming attracted to a woman he shouldn't have, his siblings for their conniving scheme, or Sakura for agreeing to participate.
But in the end, did it really matter all that much whose fault it was? The current issue was more pressing, more important. He had not realized how much Sakura was struggling internally… It seemed as though she was experiencing just as much emotional turmoil as he had been recently… That was an interesting thought in and of itself, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. Right now, he simply wanted her pain to end. He didn't care about his own troubles. Above all else, he wanted to help her.
Another interesting thought…
Gaara forced himself to focus. He angled himself slightly more toward her. "I did not realize… Have you really been struggling so much with this? Is that really how you feel?"
Sakura was startled by the question. She lifted her head so that her eyes could meet his. His face was expressionless, save for a hint of something in his eyes. The deep green irises nearly looked black in the dimly lit nighttime, and she longed instead to gaze upon their usual emerald hue. Something was stirring within them, something she had not expected to see in her lifetime: Gaara looked… concerned for her. At least, that's what it felt like. She turned her head away to conceal the pink in her cheeks. "Well," she began, "Well, I don't know. There's just a lot of things that have happened… I guess I feel…" She couldn't look at him, couldn't let herself see his face right then, or she knew she would've lost it. She would tell him anything in that moment, even the way she felt about him. Her brain sifted quickly, looking for a way to explain her feelings, and she suddenly came across an idea.
"I suppose I feel like a paper star," she finished quietly. A paper star? Really? Sakura bit her lip to stifle a groan. She couldn't believe how childish and cliché that sounded. She hadn't made paper stars since she was little. How had she suddenly remembered them now? But regardless, Gaara was completely attentive.
"A paper star?" he inquired.
Sakura turned to face him again. "Sure. You know how you make a paper star?" No matter how she said it, she still felt silly for comparing herself to a child's pastime. "Well, I suppose that's how I feel."
Gaara stared at her for a moment. Slowly, he said, "And…how is that, exactly?"
The young kunoichi gave him an incredulous look, but it soon melted into shock as she realized that he was serious. Sakura thought everyone knew how to make paper stars. It was just one of several decorations used in any of the festivals in Konoha, the kind little children are taught to make. Growing up, Sakura always felt they weren't even the most special of the paper ornaments. Unlike cranes that could flap their wings or lanterns that could fly away with a candle inside, stars were the easiest to fold and the least exciting once they were finished. All you could really do once they we folded was fill up a bowl with them or hang them from a string. But even so, everyone knew at least how to make them.
Sakura could no longer remember when she'd first learned how to fold a star, or who had taught her the supposedly comforting little tale behind it. Perhaps a grandparent, or her mother, or a teacher—It didn't matter. Could it be that these types of children's stories were not taught in Sunagakure? Was it just a silly tradition reserved within the village boundaries of Konoha? Or was it just Gaara alone? He'd been robbed of a real childhood… Maybe no one thought to teach him.
Suddenly very determined, Sakura picked up her glass and carefully peeled the napkin from it. There was very little of the paper left that had not yet been soaked through by the sweat of the glass. Gaara watched as Sakura slowly and carefully unfolded and folded the paper until it became a single long, thin strip. "Okay," she said quickly, "Everything was fine at first. My life was heading in the exact direction it was supposed to." She traced the long thin line of the paper, displaying it to him like it was a long thin road. "But then…"
She took one end of the strip and pulled it inwards, forming a delicate loop, "My thoughts got all turned around in a direction I wasn't expecting…"
She took the other end of the strip and pulled it through the loop, forming a flat, pentagonal knot at one end. "I got tangled up in something shouldn't have, and there was no way to undo it."
She began to fold the tail over the sides of the knot, over and over again. "Everything began to pile up: the thoughts in my head, the things that I said and did. It just kept getting worse and worse."
She finally reached the end of the tail and tucked it between two layers of the knot. "This is me now," she said quietly, holding the little flat pentagon between two fingers.
Gaara gazed in confusion. He'd never seen someone make a paper star before, but—quite honestly, he felt a bit duped. "It doesn't look like a star," he muttered.
Sakura chuckled and rolled her eyes, a sight that made Gaara's chest constrict ever so slightly. "Well, that's because that's not the end of the folk-tale." She graced him with a small sad smile before continuing, "This is how I feel right now. As the story goes," she carefully balanced the pentagon between two fingertips, "If you push in the right places, talk to the right people, get involved in the right kinds of things…" With the tip of one finger, she pushed into one of the sides of the paper shape. It bent inward, a little awkwardly, pushing the center of the pentagon outward. She continued to the next side, and then the next, pinching the corners as she went along. When she finished, she looked up at Gaara. "In the end," she said, "supposedly, everything will turn out right." She held her hand up, and Gaara placed his below, open for reception. She let the little wad of paper fall into his palm. For a moment, he could not see any sort of distinguishable shape, but he began to examine it closer. Sakura was right! It may have been a bit poorly crafted, and it certainly wasn't the best sort of paper to be used for origami, but when he looked at the right angle, he could see the outline of a bulbous, little five-point star.
Gaara continued to gaze it for a moment. He'd never seen something like this before; it was so small in the palm of his hand. He moved slowly for fear of dropping or crushing it. He continued examining the little star even as Sakura said, "So, um, yeah. That's how you make a paper star. Now you know."
"I did not know," Gaara said quietly, still looking at the star, "That this was how you felt."
"Well, it doesn't really help since I still don't understand anything that's going on," she muttered bitterly. A breeze blew by, and she shivered. She'd not realized how cool it was until now, perhaps because it felt as though all the warmth had been drained from her body after spending time with this cool, callous man. She'd practically spilled out her heart to the guy, nix the part about her attraction to him, and he'd only responded with silence or sarcasm. It was like he was sending her mixed signals: Here, allow me to show you one of my favorite childhood hideaways and toy with your emotions, but you can't ask why I'm doing it, because I won't tell you. Why, why, why did he insist on being so exhaustingly distant and confusing?
Gaara looked to his side as another cool breeze whispered by. It ruffled through his hair and robe, hardly affecting him, but he watched as a shudder raked through the body of his guest. He had not considered how cold it would be up here for Sakura. She was wearing barely anything, after all. Why had he forgotten to consider that? Idiot, he scolded himself, now she's upset and cold. Perhaps he could address both issues at once.
Gaara set down his drink, stood, and slipped the paper star in an inside pocket of his sleep pants for safekeeping. Sakura watched in confusion as the young man above her shrugged the robe from his shoulders and down his arms. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a quick breath, unable to draw her gaze from his partial nakedness. His skin practically glowed in the moonlight. He was beautiful, his upper body sculpted with lean muscles and unmarred by scars. She wanted to run her fingers over the very topography of his body, memorize every groove, feel the heat pulsating under his skin… You're staring, her mind registered. Gaara did not seem to notice as he untwisted the cloth so that it was facing open away from himself. Stop staring!
Sakura tore her gaze away and tried to focus on anything but the man beside her. A sudden, heavy warmth engulfed her from behind, and her head snapped back up in time to see Gaara's hands retreating from her shoulders. Her eyes felt as though they would bulge from their sockets. His robe… He'd just given her his robe. Her spine snapped straight and she suddenly felt very small underneath the weight of the cloth. A small ember of her sanity, barely present after her recent drinking binge, suddenly sparked back to life. "Nonono—" she stuttered. This was too much…too much to handle at once. This was breaching all kinds of moral taboos. "I—I can't take this—"
"Please," Gaara said quickly, but firmly. "Take it. You're cold."
"No," she said again, and the word cracked on her voice. "I shouldn't wear this—it's yours—" She pulled the robe off one of her shoulders and inhaled sharply as the cold air pierced her skin. It felt so much colder now that she'd experienced actual warmth.
"Sakura,"
She froze with one shoulder still exposed. His voice suddenly sounded gruff and dark, as though he was cautioning her from something. She tried to search for his eyes, but they were hooded underneath the shadow of his hair line. Gaara could not help but stare. There she was sitting next to him, his sleeping robe draped over her slender frame, with the moon illuminating her delicate skin and her eyelashes casting slender shadows down her cheeks. Her one bare shoulder was angled towards him, so tantalizingly close. He could feel the blood rushing to his face and hear his heart pounding in his ears. Oh, how he wanted this woman to be his—
Focus! His mind roared.
Now was not the time for such thoughts. Right now, Sakura was upset and frightened, two emotions he never wanted her to feel as a result of him. He needed to explain to her, somehow, without revealing his true feelings just yet. There was no way in heaven that his desires could be realized—Gaara knew and accepted this. But if he could not have Sakura as his…as his woman… Then he at least wanted to have a benevolent relationship with her, even if it was only a distant friendship. Very few people had been able to break through his wall of solitude during his lifetime, but if ever someone did, he did not want to lose them.
How could he express this to her, though? So badly did he want Sakura to understand, and yet he could think of no way to tell her. With Naruto, all it had taken was an understanding nod and a handshake. Women, he was coming to realize, were much more complicated. He gazed up at Luna, silently begging for her help, but his white-faced friend was silent tonight, and he was at a loss for words. Perhaps, he wondered, it would be best to start with an apology…
He cleared his throat and forced his line of sight away from her, out over the buildings of his city so that he could not see the expression on her face. Slowly and quietly, he said, "I am… sorry… that you have been so upset recently. I understand that I am the one at fault." Sakura's jaw dropped in disbelief. She could not believe what she was hearing. Gaara continued formally, as though he was addressing a political briefing. It was too difficult to articulate his feelings otherwise: "I know that, upon your arrival in Suna, there was a certain…animosity between us. And it was not my intention to cause you further distress in the past few days…"
He sighed quietly and turned to face her. "Having you call me by my first name and inviting you here with me…" He paused, struggling for the right words, "I am trying to alleviate that animosity, if you'll allow me the chance."
Sakura's jaw clicked shut of its own accord, and she simply stared at the man in front of her. Could this really be happening? Was she hearing him correctly? Amidst all those big words and unnecessary formality, Gaara's message was clear:
"You…want to be…friends?" she asked hesitantly. Gaara blinked several times and slowly nodded. Sakura's eyebrows stretched to somewhere high on her forehead, and she tilted her head to the side. "Oh."
Well, that's interesting, Inner Sakura chirped, I thought he hated me. She suddenly felt heat rising in her face and her heart rate increased. This could be dangerous, Sanity warned, This could lead you to bad decisions, a broken heart. You should refuse him and walk away. Do you duty as a shinobi—
Fuck off! Inner Sakura snapped.
Sakura gulped self-consciously. Why did it always feel as though she had to choose between her brain and her heart? It was as if they would forever be locked in battle, always testing her emotions with compromise. This time, though, her heart was winning, pushing Sanity further and further out of her mind. Shyly, she pulled the edge of the robe back over her bare shoulder and pulled it tighter around her for emotional support. Gaara only wanted to be friends, nothing more than that. I think I can handle a friendship…right?
She took a shaky breath to prepare her response. "Well…" she said, "Okay."
Gaara's beautiful shoulders relaxed as though he'd been holding his breath, and a small smile tugged at the corners of Sakura's lips. The wall of tension had suddenly toppled between them, and everything immediately felt sharper. The air tasted crisper, the moon shone brighter, and the chill of the night stung a bit harder. Sakura, now thankful for the warmth of Gaara's robe, pulled her arms through the sleeves and tucked it more securely around her. "Thank you, by the way," she said awkwardly, "For this, I mean."
She received an affirmative grunt.
"Aren't you cold?" she asked. Now that she was wearing his top garment, his entire torso was now exposed to the bitter chill.
Gaara leaned backward on his elbows as though he were sunbathing, his muscles rippling underneath his nearly translucent skin. "No," he answered, though the perk of his dark nipples gave him away.
"Liar," Sakura said before she could stop herself. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth and looked away in embarrassment. It took only a moment for Gaara to realize what she meant, but he only chuckled quietly, secretly flattered that she'd been watching him at all.
"Would you rather I take my robe back?" he asked tauntingly.
"No," Sakura pouted. Even in the moonlight, he could see a slight hint of pink in her cheeks.
He smirked. He would gladly bare the chill of the desert nighttime if it meant Sakura was wearing his robe. That lovely sight, he decided, was more than enough incentive.
Gaara fell silent for a long while, and Sakura resolved to not disturb him. He acted as though a great weight had been lifted from his body, and he looked more content and relaxed than she seen him during her entire stay in Suna. Sakura felt a disturbingly strong desire to lie down next to him, but it seemed like too friendly an act. To distract herself, she instead resolved to examine the robe he'd given her. It felt deceivingly heavy on her shoulders, despite how thin the material was. The texture was smooth to the touch, like suede, and the edges were rimmed with a thin strip of soft, black leather. The blood-red embroidery design was beautiful: a geometric design portrayed with vines and leaves twisting in elegant swirls and shapes. The thread was so fine that she could barely feel it beneath her fingertips and the inside was lined with a thick red silk that felt smooth and worn against the bare patches of her skin. And the smell—Oh, she wanted to lock away the sent in her memory forever. Warily, she tucked her nose under the collar and breathed deeply, absorbing the aroma of musk, hay, and even a hint of sanded wood. It made her feel warm and safe, a comforting scent.
"Sakura?"
His voice startled her. She felt like a criminal, caught in the act of enjoying something that wasn't hers to enjoy. "Yes!" she squeaked, "What? Oh, I was just, um, thinking."
Gaara cocked his head at angle, clearly disbelieving. He brought his arms above his head and laid back against them, his torso now completely stretched out against the roof tiles. Sakura gulped and proceeded to fiddle with the edge of one of the sleeves on the robe. The barely visible stitching quickly became the most interesting thing in the world.
After a moment of quiet, Gaara finally spoke up again. "What were you thinking about?" he asked.
Sakura continued to decipher the stitching pattern. There was only one question in her mind left gaping and unanswered, but to bring it up might ruin the delicate balance they'd finally reached. When Sakura did not respond, Gaara shifted his gaze back to her. She was hesitating, purposely ignoring his question, and it only made his curiosity worsen. They'd at last lifted most of the tension in their situation, and yet Sakura was still reserved. Like a surrendered creature in the animal kingdom, Gaara had stretched himself out in a most vulnerable position. It was something he'd never done before in the presence of another person, let alone a ninja. His torso was entirely exposed before her without any kind of protection. It went against his very nature as a warrior, as a shinobi, and yet it also brought upon him a feeling of relief. It was foolish, perhaps—hasty and naïve—but something about this woman relaxed him. He stretched the aching muscles in his body, extending himself to his full length and enjoying the remnants of the sunbaked warmth of the tiles on his back. Sakura, however, was the complete opposite. She remained encased in a ball of insecurity, her knees pulled inward to her chin, her shoulders angled forward and slightly away from him. She was obviously still uncomfortable.
Frustrated, Gaara pulled his arms across his chest and scowled. What was he doing wrong? Despite all his efforts to be congenial and discover Sakura's personal troubles, she was still insecure with him. Perhaps he was being too trusting, taking things too far. He had little experience in the art of forming friendly relationships, but he couldn't think of a reason why she refused to open up to him anymore. It felt like she was comfortable enough to let her troubles be known, but not enough so that he could mend the rift between them. What were friends for if not to mutually enjoy the other's company and to have someone to confide in?
Gaara sighed in defeat. Maybe that was the best he could get, after all. Friendship was not something he could force upon this woman, never mind romance. Treacherous thoughts and feelings of having her to hold and enjoy as his own would never be more that just that: thoughts and feelings. It would most likely take years to persuade any true sort of friendship between them, to gain Sakura's confidence, and Gaara had merely days. Stop your sulking and simply enjoy what you have now, he thought, before she's gone again.
Sakura glanced over her shoulder at the man beside her. He had shifted his position; his strong, lean arms were no longer stretched behind his head. They were instead crossed over his chest, shielding its splendor from her view. He suddenly looked troubled once more. To see his contentment so quickly retreat made her chest ache. What had happened? Only a moment ago he'd looked so calm and at ease. She wanted to reach out and touch him, console him.
Unsure of what to do, she asked, "Gaara?"
Gaara inhaled a breath and closed his eyes. "Hm?" he responded on a sigh.
"Are you alright?" Sakura asked quietly.
He cracked an eye open and one corner of his mouth twitched upward. "I'm fine," he replied and closed his eye again.
Sakura ground her teeth together and glared at him. He was obviously not fine, but he'd refused to share that with her. She was only trying to help. What a frustrating man! It was like he deliberately chose to talk with her during moments in which she was unprepared, but if she tried to initiate conversation, he would clam up and refuse to engage!
Frazzled, Sakura growled and 'hmphed'. A moment later, however, a new sound caught her attention and she turned to see Gaara's torso bouncing lightly up-and-down. His eyes were still closed, but his lips were tilted upward into gentle sort-of smirk, and a deep, rumbling sound seemed to be emanating from the depths of his chest. Sakura could only stare and listen in amazement. Gaara was laughing—lightly, yes, for it was little greater than a chuckle, but it was definitely a laugh.
A smile crept into Sakura's lips, and she could not help but give a small chuckle herself. Gaara's laughter was such a surprising and hearty sound that she could not help but join him. She watched as his eyes reopened and he shifted again so that he was resting on his elbows, gazing at her. He looked even more handsome with that small smile playing on his features, bringing a lightness to his dark eyes. "Why are you laughing?" Sakura asked as the bubble of giddiness began to recede.
Gaara flicked his head so his hair wasn't shielding his eyes. "You," he answered plainly. "That sound you made was—" Adorable. "—Funny."
Sakura simply stared at him, waiting for her pride to take a hit. If anyone else had told her that, anyone at all, Inner Sakura would have instantly retaliated. But her volatile inner consciousness was strangely silent in that moment, quietly gushing as though she'd received some kind of monumental compliment. Gaara seemed to have a strange effect on Inner Sakura, so much so that she seemed to be taking more and more hold on the rational parts Sakura's mind. She no longer cared how dangerous or pivotal this moment might become in the future. Instead, she blushed and smiled back at Gaara, suddenly living only for the moment. It was a sort of compliment, I suppose, she thought shyly, After all, how many people have actually heard this man laugh, seen this man smile? I should feel privileged…
Now you're gettin' the idea, Sister, Inner Sakura whispered.
For a long while, Gaara and Sakura simply looked at each other, silently enjoying their brief instance of pleasantry. They continued to smile at nothing, really, except the mutual feeling of disarmament. Sakura no longer felt unsure of their situation: she'd resolved to simply enjoy it. She had nothing to fear of this man. For weeks, now, she'd wished that he would disband his tyrannical reign over her life, and now that he had, she had no reason to treat him with distrust. She had no reason, coincidentally, to withhold her questions, either.
With a shy smile, Sakura began examining the robe again, unsure of whether or not she wanted to see his expression when she asked her question. "I'm…I'm very happy now that we're friends," she spoke softly, "But why the sudden change?"
Gaara's smile faded, and he cocked his head to the side. Why would she ask such a question? Surely, she knew the answer, so why would she ask him to say it? It was the one subject which neither of them had ventured to speak about. Gaara feared the destruction of their newly found friendship if they spoke about it, but then again, only minutes ago he'd thought Sakura would never open-up to him. All it had taken was a laugh, and her wall of icy distrust had melted away. Perhaps it was a necessary evil: they needed to speak openly about it before it grew into something worse. A rocky friendship like theirs would not last if they continued to ignore it.
"Why do you think?" he retorted, so quietly that it was little more than a whisper. Sakura glanced up at him, her smile gone. She knew Gaara's question was not meant to be sarcastic—everything had suddenly become very serious. She nodded slowly.
"Saturday," she whispered, "The kiss—" She stopped to correct herself, "The kissing lesson."
Of course, that would be it. She needn't have asked. That was the pivot-point, the icebreaker. That was the reason Gaara was being so much kinder to her now. But a part of her wished that that kiss had not been the reason, and it suddenly made her feel somewhat sad to finally acknowledge it: If she had not gone drinking with Temari and Kankuro, if she had not agreed to their ridiculous idea, Gaara would still hate her. What if she had not agreed? What if they had found some other woman to give him a kissing lesson? Would he have turned his good graces on her? Asked her to call him by his first name? Invited her to have drinks with him in the middle of the night? Given her his sleeping robe to wear? It made no difference to Sakura that Gaara knew about the lesson, or that it had happened only four days ago. So much had changed in so little time, it was difficult to imagine that it could not have happened to some other woman. Sakura was not special. She had just been in the right place, at the right time, to be offered the proposition.
Gaara could see the emotions racing across Sakura's features, but he was helpless to know what she was thinking. He did not want memories of that kiss—or lesson, rather—to make her look so sad. He was glad for the change that had come over their relationship because if it, not depressed. He quickly had several questions of his own. Why was she suddenly so upset? Did she truly hold distaste for the reminder of kissing him? If so, then why…?
"Sakura," he said sternly, drawing her from her thoughts, "Why did you agree to do it?" He had to know the truth, beyond his sibling's original scheme. She could've said no if she'd wanted to, and they could've been in the same positions they were a week ago. Surely, he would still have thoughts about her, and perhaps even feelings for her, but he would not have decided to embrace some of those feelings had Sakura not done what she did. That kiss had given him hope, even if it was in the guise of a lesson. If Sakura did not feel the same way, then what motives would she have for submitting?
Sakura's eyes became wide. Gaara looked rigid and hard, almost as though he was angry. Why would he be angry now, of all times? "I'm—I'm sorry?" she squeaked. She wasn't prepared for his sudden anger.
"You are…sorry," he repeated darkly, "I see."
"No, wait!" Sakura angled herself towards the man and lifted her hands in a calming manner. "That's not what I meant—"
Gaara glanced quickly up at her. "You're not sorry?"
"No! I mean—I don't know! Just—Argh!" She brought her hands to her temples and growled, trying to force her memories to realign. Why had she agreed to kiss this damn man? Why? Only chance… No, no. That would give away too much about her own feelings. What was it that Temari and Kankuro had told her…?
A burning feeling engulfed her thoughts and spread down, down into her chest. Jealousy, she recognized. Ah yes, her mind snapped, That's why…
"You like someone," she whispered, without looking at Gaara. "Kankuro and Temari told me. You like someone, some…woman, but you weren't going to pursue her. The…," she scowled, "…lesson was meant to give you confidence, a better idea of what you were up against, in case… in case you did decide to pursue."
Sakura let her hands drop, and she turned away from him. So that's what they told her…he thought. Suddenly he wished they would've just told her the truth, because now he was stuck in a lie. He didn't know how to tell Sakura that she was the woman he wanted—and what good would it do him? She would most likely react in disgust. After all, he'd had to coax every single bit of damn friendship out of this woman; it was like she didn't want to be that close to him, like she was avoiding him. He glowered with shame. Typical.
And then again, what if he was wrong? What if she did accept him in return? A spark of hope simmered in his chest, and his face relaxed. The situation would be too sticky—he could not leave his village, she would not leave hers. Already a month-long mission was trying on her. He could not imagine asking her to leave her home and stay here in Suna. Theirs was a romance doomed, either way.
Perhaps what his siblings did was best. He knew, despite their schemes and ridiculous personal habits, that they had his best interests at heart. Telling Sakura the truth would only hurt her and hurt him more. Maybe he could preserve what he had now by following in what his brother and sister had started…no matter how much it pained him. At the very least, he would still have this time to share with Sakura.
"Yes," he finally said, "There is a woman I am interested in."
Sakura felt every hair on her body stand straight. Inner Sakura had planted thoughts and hopes in her head, and she felt them shatter in an instant. The shards twisted and sank until they'd burrowed deep in her chest, like little ice daggers in her heart. Of course, you idiot, Sanity returned, Why on earth would ever think that woman was you? He only wanted to use you for the benefit of her!
"Sakura?"
She felt a shudder run down her back and she took a deep, long breath. You can't let him see, she reminded herself, You can't let him know how upset you are. She chewed on her lip and blinked several times, warding off any tears that had any thoughts of jumping. "I'm happy for you," she responded through grit teeth, "I hope everything works out."
"Yes," Gaara said quietly. He could not understand why she suddenly would not face him. "I hope so too." He spoke mechanically, knowing anything he said was a lie. He had lied before in the past, but he did not like lying to Sakura. He gazed in longing as another breeze rustled by, making her pink, petal-like hair dance. Desire burned inside him, churning with the guilt that was already present. How could he want this one woman so badly? And how could he satisfy that desire without hurting either one of them? He wanted to taste her again, feel her heat on his skin, but it was impossible… Sakura was too proud a woman. Since she now believed that he wanted another, she would never allow him that chance again…
Unless…
"Sakura,"
The woman in question turned slightly in the direction of her addressor. He was gazing out over the village, the pale moonlight illuminating every sinew of his body. It felt like a sin just to look at him. "I have a favor to ask of you, if you will permit me," he said.
Sakura turned more towards him. A favor? "What sort of favor?" she asked warily, trying to conceal the broken edge in her tone.
Gaara slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, mirroring a more-relaxed version of her own stance. "I realize now that Saturday was, at the very least, confusing for the both of us." Sakura chewed on her lip and waited patiently for him to continue. With slow, measured movements, Gaara retrieved his nearly empty glass, examined the remaining contents, and downed all that was left. With a slight grimace, he set the empty glass down. "I am curious if you might allow me…"
He trailed off, and Sakura pursed her lips. "Allow you what?"
Gaara finally turned his dark-ringed gaze on her, igniting new flames in the pit of her stomach. "Allow me another lesson?"
Sakura's mind reeled. What? Sanity screeched, No, no, no! Absolutely not! How dare he even ask! What does he take you for anyway?
A teacher, apparently, Inner Sakura groaned.
Sakura took a gasp of air and looked away. There they were again, her head and her heart, the angel and the devil on her shoulders, always fighting for dominance over her thoughts.
The nerve of him!
He wants you to kiss him again!
What are you, a piece of meat?
C'mon, live a little!
Think of the consequences!
Consequences, shmonsequences!
Stop! She wanted to cry out. Four little words and her mind was on a rampage. Yes or no? Go or stop? Why would Gaara ask such a favor? Hadn't she explained only moments ago how upset she'd been because of their last 'lesson'? And now he was asking her to put herself through all that stress all over again! He's asking you as friend, Inner Sakura chirped. But what would it spell out for her future? She'd enjoyed that last kiss, perhaps a little too much, and it had brought her nothing but confusion and pain.
It brought you here, though, didn't it? It brought you a new companion, a new friendship. It brought you his trust. He wouldn't ask for another lesson if he didn't trust you, right? This is a good thing.
A good thing?
She hardened her gaze. "Why?"
Gaara did not move, did not even blink. "I understand. Your refusal is entirely acceptable."
"I didn't refuse anything!" she snapped, "I just want to know why."
Gaara gazed at her inquisitively. "Why would I want another lesson?" he asked. Sakura gave him a hard stare. "Well, when a student has learned all he can from his master, he graduates on to something higher, yes? As my sensei, Sakura, do you believe I am ready to graduate?"
Damn him.
She didn't want to be this man's sensei. If he put her name and that suffix in close conjunction again, she felt she might actually be sick. She could tell him 'yes' and leave it at that, but he would know she was lying. Of course, he wasn't ready to graduate, as he put it: the idiot had barely moved when she kissed him. He'd claimed to have known about their session even though she supposedly announced it, but if based solely on his body language, Sakura guessed he'd actually had no prior knowledge. Yet regardless of all the loose ends surrounding their current situation, Inner Sakura was clawing at the insides of her mind, urging, even begging for her to accept. She'd never in her lifetime wanted something so badly; This second chance felt like a forbidden fruit. She'd already tasted the ambrosia once. To taste it again could be deadly.
With a final sigh, Sakura surrendered. What did it matter anymore? She'd already come this far. Her feelings for this man were ever-present and growing, but they would never blossom into anything true. They would remain feelings only. What difference did it make if she finally stopped trying to suppress them?
"No," she said on a quivering voice, "I would not say that you are ready."
Gaara tried not to wince at his damaged pride. He knew she was being honest. "So you agree that I am in need of more instruction?"
"Yes."
"I see." He tilted his head and smirked. "I am grateful for your honesty."
Chewing her lip, Sakura gave him an indignant look. How could this man seem so casual about this? Was his pride not at all damaged by this conversation about his need for kissing instruction? Much less the diplomatic complications this might involve… she was lucky their first encounter hadn't dissolved their village alliance already.
"You're not at all…" she chewed her lip, "Concerned that this is… inappropriate?"
Gaara took slow measured breaths, calculating his answer. It absolutely was not appropriate… but they had already breached formality at this point, so what was the point of using that excuse now? "I seem to recall you made that judgement already when you approached me in my office last time." Sakura felt a hot rush crash into her head and face. "But—" Gaara continued tightly, "I will respect your declination if you feel uncomfortable."
Sakura took a long time to consider her response. She had not been prepared for Gaara to call out her hypocrisy so blatantly, but a secret desire churning inside her was quickly threatening to block out her embarrassment and hesitation. This man was offering her, perhaps for the last and only time, another chance at being close to him. Even under the pretext of a lesson, her selfish desire to kiss him—taste him—again was once again blooming deep in her belly. Do it! Inner Sakura ushered excitedly. Do it, do it, do it!
"So," she said carefully. "You truly want another lesson?"
Gaara gave an affirmative nod.
Sakura swallowed hard. If she was going to go through with this, she did not want it to be as awkward as it was before. First things first: "Okay, Gaara," she said, "I will…teach you, if you want me to." She avoided looking at him as sweet heat crept into her ears and neck. "But—we need to lay out some ground rules. Is that fair?"
"Of course." Gaara would've agreed to anything at that point. He could hardly believe his luck that Sakura was even considering his request.
"Firstly, if we're friends now, you don't have to be so damn formal all the time." Sakura gave him a pointed look.
His eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. Formality was part of his character as a leader, but if Sakura deemed it inauspicious, he would attempt to be more colloquial. "As you wish."
"Still too formal."
He thought for a moment. "Whatever you say?" he tried.
"Better. And secondly, don't you dare call me Sakura-sensei, got it?"
His smirk widened. What an interesting woman. He started to say, "Yes ma'am," but stopped when Sakura narrowed her eyes. Instead, he opted for, "Got it."
"Okay. Good." Sakura expelled a heavy breath and turned away, attempting to calm her thoughts. What a night! Everything was happening so quickly. Casually, she retrieved her almost-forgotten drink and examined its contents. She finished the watery remnants in a single gulp and sighed. She would have to take a little time to absorb all this, to let it all sink in. Another kiss with Gaara!It was like having stumbled into an alternate reality.
Gaara cleared his throat politely, and she turned her gaze back to him. He was looking at her expectantly. "So…what should I do?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
Gaara blinked. "For the lesson…?"
He watched Sakura's eyes grow so wide that they almost seemed disproportionate. "Wait—" her mind reeled, "You want another lesson now?"
"Yes?"
"Right now!"
"Why not?"
Sakura stammered a bit and stared at him. On one hand, she didn't want to seem rude, yet on the other, she felt completely unprepared. How did he expect her to—What was she supposed to—Ahhh!
"W-well I, um… I wasn't expecting… I'm not really prepared…" For Kage's sake, why hadn't she showered earlier? What if he could smell her nervous perspiration? Despite the chilly air around them, it was suddenly too warm under Gaara's heavy silk robe.
Seemingly unfazed, Gaara offered. "I understand. We can schedule an appointment at a later time."
Sakura balked. How was he so incomprehensibly calm about this? "Appointment?" she squeaked. This isn't some business agreement. Or was it? Bitter sanity burned the edges of her mind. "This isn't something you make an appointment for! Just—argh!" She inhaled a deep breath and then released it again. Focus, Haruno. "Listen… okay. If you actually want another lesson right now, what, exactly, do you want to learn?"
Gaara blinked. "Everything."
Sakura felt a rush of heat spread through her face. "You can't just say everything!" She scolded, feeling suddenly dirty at the thought. "There's no way I could teach you everything. T-that's just—" she struggled with how to respond, "It's just— too much!"
"I'm a fast learner."
Sakura covered a nervous whimper with a cough. "That—that's beside the point. Just… give me something specific to…uh…show you."
Wow. Poor choice of words. She could feel her own blood pulsing in her ears.
"I don't know where to start," Gaara confessed plainly.
Sakura scowled. She could already tell that working with this man was going to be exhausting. Last time he'd barely spoken at all. Last time—Ah! "That's it!" she piped up, "How about we'll continue where we left off. Alright?"
"Alright."
An awkward moment passed in which neither person knew precisely what to do. Shakily, Sakura gave a nervous laugh and tucked her hair behind her ear. With a gulp for courage, she scooted sideways until she was facing her student. Gaara followed suit, drawing his body closer to hers. He could not believe what was happening. Sakura had agreed to his request. It was contrary to any sort of reaction he'd anticipated. He vowed to do everything as she instructed. He would not mess up this opportunity as he had the last one. Sakura pulled herself ever closer until their shoulders were nearly touching. The positioning was awkward, but it was the best they could manage side-by-side on the slanted rooftop.
"Right. Okay." Sakura cleared her throat. Her heart was beating so erratically that it felt like a hummingbird was trapped in her ribcage. "Face me, then." Gaara did as she commanded. He was so close that she could smell the masculine scent wafting off his skin and see a dusting of dark red hairs on his chest. Clear head, Haruno. "Lean in a bit…Just a bit…Right. You don't want to seem overbearing. Okay, good." Talking helped to keep her mind on track, helped to keep her from simply staring at the man before her. But she couldn't talk forever. This was entirely different from teaching medical procedures. Mending broken bodies back together was one thing, but this was a completely different experience, one that she would've never imagined herself participating in in a thousand years. "I guess you should just, um, mimic what I do, okay?" Gaara nodded, but his face remained completely expressionless. "Now…open your mouth…Just a little bit…" Gulp. "Now close your eyes…"
Gaara hesitated, but slowly his deep green irises disappeared behind ebony lids. Last time, he'd kept his eyes open. Closing them lit his nerves on fire. His very instincts protested, but he ignored them and obeyed his teacher. A moment passed while anticipation fermented in the pit of his stomach. This was what he'd been hoping for, even dreaming of, and now it was about to happen. He could now feel the warmth of her breath on his chin, smell the alcohol on her lips. "Take a breath." He did.
Sakura leaned in.
A long and hefty chapter. I hope you have enjoyed reading it.
Respectfully,
Olly