In the sand-colored circle room of the Kazakage tower, a group of high-ranking officials gathered. None of the eight council members in attendance had left on common ground from the prior meeting, having been in this room multiple times in the last week, which was unusual.

"What is the status of the Kazakage?" Ebizo asked as the council meeting commenced.

"He's stable as of this morning," Ameno, the head of the Suna medical department and council member, retorted. Her shoulders showed a slow confidence that did not register in her gut. Yes, the Kazakage was currently stable and able to walk around for incumbent tasks, but as far as his health went, she was certain for things to take a turn for the worse any day now.

"Good," Sajo exclaims. His hands folded to his chest. The council member had been in charge for the past week and was anxious for the recovery of the Kage.

"You've stated he was stable the last few days, yet he's not returned to his duties. Should the people of Sunakagura be concerned?" Goza, a particularly terse man, quipped. As of the second council meeting this week, he'd been expecting more information to reveal itself in the particulars of the Kage's condition. It was upon the fourth council meeting, of which they were all currently enduring that the ambiguity of their leader's health demanded an explanation.

Ameno had no immediate reply. While not against bending the truth to protect Gaara's confidential medical condition, she was also obligated to her people. At the moment, it may appear to be a difficult order. While Gaara himself never made the command, it was in dealing with the protective Temari and Kankuro sand siblings to the Kage that she'd been directed to be more fastidious with her responses. The binal command weighed extensively on her mind, and her words sat like a stone in her throat with her dilemma.

"Gaara is fine, Goza."

Though the man was obliged to give the medical expert the benefit of the doubt, instinctively and with no evidence to support her claims otherwise, Goza relented and held to his suspicions inwardly.

"Ameno, I must concur with Goza on the health of our leader, Gaara. Do you have any news more definite to his condition and when he may recover?" Gouza, a man far more impartial to the Kage but far more loyal to his people, added.

The subject made to reiterate her message but was stopped by the blonde sand sibling, Temari. Her strong voice reverberated off the sand walls with a defiant command of presence.

"Gaara's health is of no concern. As of now, he's stable, like Ameno said. He's resting, and until then, it falls on all of us to make the decisions. Isn't that the point of a council, Gouza?"

The room fell silent, and though the sentiment was mostly agreed, the two adversaries chanced assessed glances. Though they weren't buying it, they knew better than to argue with the sand siblings, most of which being Temari.

"You're right; we'll revisit what needs to happen if and when Lord Kazakage's health continues to decline." Gouza concedes.

Temari, not known for having sharp control of her temper, took offense to the implication. Gaara was not dying, she said like a mantra to herself, but the possibility was always looming. He had been so sick and so far had not gotten any better, and as of now, no one can explain what was wrong.

The council room grew silent in the wake of the insinuation from Gouza. The group of men and women were now on edge, each sporting tense shoulders and furrowed brows. The contingency plan for a dying Kazakage was filling the minds of the council, who didn't share the same blood as the man running through their veins, but for the siblings, the thought alone almost brought tears to their eyes. Gaara, their darling baby brother, the man leading the village and one who loves his people, could not die! They would keep his heart pumping if they had to reach inside and do so themselves, both vowed to themselves in the heavy silence.

Kankuro, who often sat in these meetings to interject only on the craziest of ideas, was oddly silent. He didn't know what to make of the situation. Of course, he was firmly planted on his brother's side, concurring with his sister that Gaara would make it through this rough patch. But he also struggled with the realization that life was fragile and the world went on after death. The war inside his head held the usually gregarious man to a captivity of silence, and his sister looked at him with concern. Kankuro was frequently the first to spar with the council verbally, yet he didn't say anything now. His silence propelled her anxiety, which sat heavily on her chest. As much as she wished for her brother to speak up, she knew what he must be thinking. Defiantly, she wanted to smack him out of his lack of faith in Gaara's recovery, but she couldn't help understanding exactly where he had landed. Temari sighed silently and let her mind drift from the heaviness of the room to the plans laid ahead. Sakura from the Hidden Leaf would be here any day now, and a cacophony of information came with her. With two brilliant medical nins working in tandem towards curing Gaara, Temari had at least a small branch of hope to hold onto.

"I think we must decide soon on what needs to be done in case -" Ebizo began, but the fan-using sibling leaped from her chair in contempt, her hand slamming to the table, rattling the speaker's nerves and cutting him short.

"No plans are needed! Gaara is just fine. He'll recover soon, and until then, we'll do our jobs, understand?"

Typically more diplomatic, her emotions took over her discipline. Kankuro reached out to his sister as the room fell into a mum.

"Temari, calm down." His cool tone surprised his sister and inflamed the rage inside of her. Was he not on her side at all?

"I'm not saying you're wrong," He confirms, "But the council is doing its job right now. We have to think of the people as well as Gaara. However," He sat forward onto the backs of his hands, and his voice dipped low. "No one on this council should underestimate our Kazakage. Make no mistake, my brother will make it through this."

The council all mutely muse on the confident words of the sand sibling and yield to his elucidation. While Temari agreed, deep down, she felt the defiant wall around her heart sit in its unwavering roots. Gaara was first in her heart at the moment. She wasn't sure when she'd been so willing to turn her back on her people for the love she had watered for her baby brother, but at the thought of its origin, the face of a spiky-haired Nara man bloomed. Was she so willing to care for those she loves over patriotism due to her lover not being among them? Would she care more for her home if her heart was in the same place instead of countries away in the forest of the fire country? She was unsure but unwilling to look into the mystery any further today. For now, she would focus on her job. She was a councilwoman, and now her people must come first. The woman sat back down in her place. The meeting continued on to less poignant subjects.

Once the council had concluded, Temari was quick to take her leave – her destination, to her brother's side. He'd been mobile, a fact she was grateful for, but he was slowly withering down. She saw it in the paling of his already snow-white skin, his ailing frame, which was already fragile, and his tired green eyes, which held so much pain and love for his people. He was dying; the fact was always at the surface but had been buried to protect the heart of the woman who reminisced on her brother. Without interference, he wouldn't be around to witness the beautiful things yet to come. One of which was her wedding, the very one he'd promised to walk her down the aisle with their brother Kankuro. This promise, which she held him to even in death, was vital. He had to live because he promised he would.

Gaara had become almost gaunt, which wasn't much contrast to his former state. He was always smaller in stature, which gave way to looking thinner than he was. His clothes swapped from his standard velvet cotton to a beige loose-fitting top and matching breathable sweats. The clothing kept him cold or warm, depending on his temperature shift. At the moment, he was running cold. Though the sun was beating down on the sand dune ceilings, casting Suna in a warm gold, Gaara felt like he was sitting through a blizzard. Yet, he could feel the cold sweat and perspiration on his forehead. The Kage wrestled with sleep while wrapped in two layers of thick blankets. Ameno had ordered him to rest, which meant sleeping, not lying around attempting paperwork while in bed. He'd been caught repeatedly trying to keep up with his responsibilities and ignoring the growing beast that threatened to pull him under. Possibly, it was the fear of not waking up. The fear wasn't for himself as it didn't weigh on the Kage; he didn't fear death. He'd met it a few times in his short life. It was the fear for his people, siblings, and friends if he were to leave the world of the living. He'd go with only a few regrets: not saying "I love you" and "thank you" to each of his loved ones and missing out on Temari's upcoming nuptials. He wouldn't be safe in the afterlife from his sister's wrath for the ladder. No, it was better to stay alive and push himself to his limit before he let go. But, as the days passed, he found he was losing the strength to cling tightly to this world. Was this what it felt like to die slowly, he wondered?

While tossing in his bed, unable to run from the cold his body was too willing to invite, he heard the door to his courtiers open. It was, without a doubt, Temari. He could tell by how she closed the door with a strong force of wind and an even stronger gait. She stopped at his bedside and sat beside his head on the lone wooden chair. While conscious of all this, he could not gain enough strength to open his eyes. He'd exerted himself more than he should have earlier when he'd walked to his Kage office to grab more paperwork. It was a wonder how he made it back, certain he had fallen unconscious as soon as he made it halfway back to his room. All the same, he listened to the steady breathing of his sister, and a comfort fell over his body. He felt the warmth his body had been craving, and the sickly sweat seemed to dry up.

As Temari watched his almost too-still body, she hesitated a hand to reach out for him. Never before being a touchy person, she looked for a way to connect to her brother, as if in a way to make sure he was still here. Though she knew by his raspy breathing that he was still among them, she wanted to reach out and touch him. The fear of his life slipping away any moment sat prophetically in the air. He could go any moment; the thought pressed at her chest, and she clutched her heart with the hand reaching for him. What more could she do for him besides sit by his side? She felt useless, worn, and empty.

A small groan pushed past the lips of the sickly man, and Temari was quick to reach out her hand again, landing it on the wet surface of his pale forehead and swiping back into his hair. She brushed the short spikes from his brow, allowing his skin to breathe more freely, and noticed that his body had lost some stiffness. Maybe touch would be helpful. So, she continued to brush back his hair, the manner in which was tenderly maternal, and watched as his body relaxed into the peace of sleep.

Temari had been at her brother's bedside for the last few hours. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice the door creak open and the light from the hallway invade the dark room. However, the comforting presence that stepped inside ensnared her from the shadows. The composed Nara man leaned against the door; his eyes focused on the usually strong woman's defeated back. The sight prostrated his heart, which sought after its battered companion in the sovereign woman. Wordlessly, the shadow user reached out for his bride, and the woman hungrily relented into his strong arms, consenting to their power to take away the pain. As the couple embraced into oneness, ominous eyes watched the scene from the shadows. Had Shikamaru been less concerned for his soon-to-be wife's state, he may have noticed the presence, but as it were, his partner took up all the space he had available. She was hurting, and it was his duty to shoulder the pain. The couple swayed in the empty and resided inside their manufactured nirvana.

In Earth Country

Sasuke moaned to the touch. The small, delicate hand stroked at his penis, placing pressure on the shaft before gripping it tighter at the base above his balls. He felt the pleasure radiate through his thighs, coating his veins like fire into his toes. It was almost as if his breath had wrenched from his body. His eyes had been closed in the wake of the pleasure but soon opened to see the silky, pink-haired woman doing the assault on his body.

Every nerve was taut as he pumped into the small, strong hands gripping his cock. She was watching his face, which was scrunched unabashed in pure ecstasy. Her eyes were sultry yet full of complete adoration, and the image of it struck him like lightning. He forgot every matter of life on the planet but her. As she continued to stroke him, up and down, he felt a familiar pull in the peak of his scrotum, and his hips wrenched up violently.

Green eyes watched him lovingly before they disappeared, replaced with the image of a wet, pink mouth encasing his cock. He was near critical collapse. Her hot mouth worked his penis, coating it in her sweet saliva while she pumped the base where her throat couldn't reach. The image alone was maddening. Her mouth bounced up and down on his penis, along with her meek moans as the tip of it hit the back of her throat. How could she be so good at this? He felt he'd been welcomed into heaven, which he knew would never greet him, but he would bask in the slice he was given on earth. He almost couldn't imagine anything better than this feeling, aside from the vice of her sex around his cock. Soon, he mantraed in his head as she continued to pump him. He was so very close now. His body lurched as if it was praying, and right as the feeling began to crash like a wave, the Uchiha burst back into reality without much air in his lungs.

He'd had the dream again. This time, it was far more vivid than any before. His body was encased in a thick sheen of sweat, his cock at attention and throbbing for the release it'd been deprived, his breathing erratic. The man lay on the hard mat, watching the ceiling and trying to force his body to comply with his mind. Dreams had been an antagonist greater than any he'd battled before. They were set up to undo his careful work at control. As they kept pushing, he found it harder to keep his body from advancing on its desired accomplice, which lay silently at peace in the bed. He couldn't keep this up much longer, he admitted only to his defeated mind.

Sasuke concluded that the dream had been so vivid as to be confused with being real this time because of the prior night's exchange. Sakura had said, "I love you." However, the more exact reason for the vigorous descent into sexual madness was because he'd cowardly verbalized identical sentiments to the unconscious woman. Even to himself, that was a floodgate he'd willingly opened that now was drowning him. He should have kept denying it, he presumed. Would the dreams have lessened in intensity if he'd lied to himself? Even he couldn't convince himself they would. It was too strong, and as a Uchiha, his emotions were far more intense than most others. He'd have to endure, which he would gladly do to keep Sakura by his side.

At the moment, the man needed to find his way back to the ground. He was floating on the endorphins of a false sexual encounter, and his body was unwilling to let up on its protest. Ever a bannerman for self-control, Sasuke had given into the need for masturbation far more than he'd willingly admit. In moments like now, he'd been at his weakest and had no other choice. It was why his hand traveled the hard valley of his abs to the peak of his hips and dipped under his pants. He didn't want to give in, but the feeling had become almost painful. Having the pressure lifted by the band of his pants lifting, allowing his cock to breathe, Sasuke let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, he was sure this would be enough. Then, a flash of small, perky, pink breasts flashed like a firework behind his eyes, and his penis begged to explode.

Groaning, the defeated Uchiha sat up from his mat and lifted himself to his feet. If he'd give in tonight, he sure as hell wouldn't be as indecent to do it in the room while Sakura slept. While being a devious fiend for her, he was also far more respectful of her honor. Though it wasn't much of a topic for a standard shinobi, Sasuke was bathed in the traditions of a clan and knew honor for women meant at least something. He didn't dare treat Sakura as if she were common, especially if she could one day be a clan head.

The head of his penis dripped with precum at the off-base thought. The only way Sakura would be a clan head was through marriage, and Sasuke knew he was getting too far ahead of himself. Though he'd resolved to marry only Sakura if he were to marry, he allowed the woman's drunken confession to move roadblocks that persisted. For now, he'd focus on his pressing matter, his throbbing penis.

Finally making it to the adjoined bathroom, Sasuke unabashedly pulled at his waistband tight, unlacing it and letting his pants drop to his ankles. His back fell to the bathroom door for support as his large hand closed around his thick penis. It felt far more engorged than normal, but he'd been able to stave off touching it in this way for some time.

Sasuke looked down at the large appendage and acted strictly on instinct. His palm gathered the slippery wetness of his precum and coated it down his penis in a long stroke. He almost cried at the sensation, allowing his eyes to close and his mind to picture a small hand replacing his own. Her beautiful face was only inches from his, and her lips were full and red from a passionate kiss they'd exchanged. He groaned.

Her hand worked as a mimic in his mind. He grasped tightly to the head of his cock and braced the feeling down to the base. Repeating the motion a few times slowly before he began to pick up. In his mind, he imagined Sakura on her knees, kissing the tip of his penis before lapping at it with her pink tongue. The man felt his hip jerk unconsciously in his hand, and the rapid motion made him bite down on his lip to stop an audible moan. In the aftermath, he would find embarrassment awaiting him, but for now, the promise of a full release was blinding. His hip worked in tandem with his hand. His grip tightened, and the Uchiha felt a jolt run down the base of his spine.

He was chasing the release like his life was in desperate need of catching it, and for the moment, that was true. He bucked his hip, pushing into the door with his back harder. In a less frenzied state, he may have been troubled that the sound may have been audible to the sleeping woman just outside the door, but it didn't matter for now. He was so close. So close, in fact, that he felt his entire body tensing. His glutes squeezed tightly as his hips bucked uncontrollably into his tight grip. The title wave rippled through his body and expelled from his penis onto the floor. He didn't have enough control to stop the groan that emitted from his gritted teeth.

As the tightening of his balls began to lessen and sanity slowly came back after riding the wave of ecstasy, he chanced opening his eyes. The two-toned colors landed on the white, sticky mess that landed on his stomach and puddled on the ground. It was hot, thick, and abundant from his weeks of rejecting its release as if taunting him. The last Uchiha sighed at the mess and quickly wiped away the white drops on his stomach. Lifting his pants back to his hips, he tied them speedily and then set to work on cleaning the floor.

Shame pricked at his brain, and he knew he'd have difficulty looking at Sakura today for the added reason of letting his desire overtake him. But, at least, he was far more relaxed than he'd been in weeks. He could stay his proper hue and avoid looking like a walking tomato as long as he didn't think of the reason for this new abatement.

Sasuke set his nerves the best he could in the aftermath of his release. He always hated how giving into his needs made him feel like he'd made some infraction that loomed a sanction to come any minute. While it was natural and even healthy, Sasuke had been unencumbered by such taxing weights to distract him. Now, traveling with Sakura, he was finding the heaviness almost too much to bear, invading even the simplest moments of the day. He worried that he'd let it distract him at the wrong moment and that someone would get hurt. Maybe giving in would save everyone, but how repellent the thought of condoning his urges became to his own mind. Lack of self-control was not excusable to lay at the feet of nature and wash his hands of the blame.

When Sasuke had gathered his head, he pushed open the door. The sight that greeted him was melting his cold-hearted resolve, and he allowed himself a moment to stare at the sleeping woman. In the back of his mind, he was grateful that she'd slept through his transgression behind the bathroom walls. However, as his two-colored eyes drifted to the small specks of light peeking through the windows, he knew his moment of reverie would have to end soon. They needed to continue the journey. Sasuke had allowed himself to be happy while on this journey, as if on a leisure trip rather than a top-secret mission. In and of itself, this was a dire mistake he'd surely be punished for later. His atonement would take the rest of his life, just as A had said it would, just as he himself had vowed. For a moment, as the beams touched the empty room, hazing his view, he let the feeling in without remorse. But, as all things do, the moment had to end. Sasuke strode to the side of the sleeping woman and gently - almost lovingly - jostled her petite shoulder.

Sakura had been dreaming of the man she opened her groggy eyes to see. Broadly dominating her sleeping and waking mind, she sighed at his attainability. He may be just at arm's length, but she'd never be able to catch him. Such dastardly thoughts so quick to her conscious mind angered the woman on top of the pulsing headache she sported now. He was far too invasive in her mind. He couldn't be all she thought about. The realization even unsettled her. But, even still, she felt an involuntary smile spread across her groggy face. Sasuke's heart stopped, and his eyes widened. At the magnetic sight, he felt his Sharingan uncontrollably activate as it drank in the scene. He hadn't lost that type of control since he was drowning in his hatred-filled emotions. This time, it activated out of pure emotion that even he could not, or would not, dare to name.

The Uchiha spoke, looking away from the scene to create a coherent thought that didn't involve kissing her. "Sakura, it's getting late. We need to go. The sand village isn't much further. We should get there by this afternoon."

While Sakura lazily lifted herself from the comfort of the bed, she began to stretch. Again, her dress rode above her mid-thighs, and even while looking away, Sasuke felt the familiar urge tingle in his scrotum. He was sick, he concluded, beyond it, even. The thought of explaining the situation to Sakura once she'd sobered up hadn't entered his mind since it was preoccupied with trying not to give in to that primal ache at the apex of his thighs. When the half-asleep medical-nin finally opened her eyes wide enough to drink in her surroundings, she immediately bulked and scurried from the Uchiha, who was mystified by her reaction. His own brain not having come down from its high. But, as she covered her chest, eyes saucerous and sputtering, he finally remembered where they'd been forced to spend the night. He mentally facepalmed that he hadn't immediately begun explaining to her the circumstances. Now, she may look at the Sharingan user as a pervert, attempting to steal her virtue and ravage her with his depravity - while she may be right - in the current predicament, that had not been his intention. He was appalled, embarrassed, nonplussed, many different words, and he could not control his eyes from widening at what she must think of him, and his brows shot up into his hairline. Almost shaking and sputtering himself, Sasuke gave a simple shake of his head and held out his hand in defense.

"Sakura, it's not like that." He was surprised at how cool his voice was, despite feeling otherwise.

She searched around the room with her eyes. Nothing if not a keen observer, Sakura spotted the mat on the floor, her distinctly covered body, and the undeniable fact that Sasuke was just not that type of person. But, even as she came to that realization, another smacked her hard into reality. She had been drunk last night. Cursing herself for her lack of control on the sake, she hesitantly searched her sparse memories for the events of last night. While most of it was encased in a fuzzy film, she distinctly remembered a phrase that had been spoken since she was a young girl, each time at the cool-faced man before her. Surely that had been a dream. She couldn't have, no, she wouldn't have, said those words out loud, especially in the presence of the very man who was unwilling to return them. Chancing a look at the observing man, she noticed no shift in his aura, none that she could place. If anything, he seemed far more relaxed than he had yesterday and had she confessed to him, he would have been far more distant than normal. Actually, come to think of it, he was being more open than usual. He'd touched her, if only to wake her up, which was unlike him to initiate touch. Though the woman couldn't read too much into the gesture, she'd drunk so much she made them late on their time. But, on top of everything, he seemed almost as if he'd removed some invisible barrier that she hadn't noticed was there. She watched him closer than before, and he didn't turn away. The two nin stared at one another, neither willing to look away and neither willing to question the other. If Sakura was to believe that she'd confessed her love to Sasuke (which she'd done more than once, but not since he'd left his hatred in the past), he didn't have enough emotion or care to bring it up. Whether or not she could live with that knowledge was not something she could dwell on much today. As he'd said, they had to leave immediately.

In her resolve to shove her emotions down into a box and shelve it in a faraway bookcase, Sakura lifted from the bed. She made a point to avoid getting too close to the Uchiha. She didn't even ask about the room, being observant and culpable enough to deduce that she'd been far too drunk to carry around a city. She cringed at the mental image of being a sloppy drunk around the man she'd been in love with since she was a child, but the two had gone through far worse together. She'd have to suck up the feeling of embarrassment, ready to take her over.

As Sakura quickly gathered her things, Sasuke had become on edge. He grappled with the question of filling her in on last night, explaining why they were in a room with a heart-shaped bed and pleading his case that, while he was a closeted pervert, he wasn't an indecent enough man to take advantage. He knew he should have focused more on what exact words to string together into an explanation; instead, he'd been far too disgustingly concentrated on his own primal needs to care. Damn, what do I say? He wondered as he stood welded to his spot. She wasn't beating him to a pulp; shouldn't that be confirmation enough for him that she didn't suspect he had been inappropriate last night? The nervous feeling bubbling in his gut fogged his hold on himself, and without much thought, he'd spun around and addressed the woman with unfiltered word vomit.

"I slept on the floor. I promise." He didn't know why his voice almost sounded desperate for her to believe him. No way she thought that lowly of him.

Sakura stalled in her motion, slowly looked up from where she'd been looking, and stared speechlessly at the man for a moment. Was this really Sasuke? He seemed so…boyish, like a child trying to talk his way out of a punishment. It was the exact mental image in contrast to his serious face that Sakura laughed uncontrollably. She clutched her stomach, her head falling back and her body shaking.

Sasuke was utterly lost. What had he said that was so funny? The better question was one that made him narrow his eyes at the woman: was she laughing at him? His mind couldn't focus on any one emotion. While initially confused, his mind had scurried quickly to awe. She was laughing, and that laugh was as beautiful as she was. He felt drawn to it, to her, and also to stopping it. His ability to withstand her endearing smile, let alone laugh, would lead to him saying or doing something he would regret later. He could so easily repeat the words: I love you, Sakura.

Defiantly, Sasuke walked closer to the woman, ignoring the beautiful laughter or the radiating joy from her aura; he was cross with himself and a diminutive amount with her for being so quick to laugh at him. What was so funny? Did she not believe him? When he reached the laughing pinkette, he stood before her and reached out a large palm. All of his actions were involuntary. He'd been going on sheer instinct. She was laughing, whether with him or at him, he didn't know. His hand found its destination, right on the top of her convulsing head, and leaned down to look at her. His face was far closer than he'd intended, but it made the woman stop, just as he'd wanted. Now that she was quiet, he could think again without wanting to kiss those parted lips, which he would have happily done if he'd been less of a coward. His eyes still narrowed, making him seem as if he were upset.

Sakura stopped laughing and became as still as a statue before him. What was he doing? He was…touching her. Was he upset? She must have offended him. Or, as she looked closer to his face, she couldn't help but think something else was going on. Though his eyes were narrowed in a signature annoyance, distinctly Sasuke, she didn't feel that radiating off of him. In fact, he seemed almost lighthearted. Was he…being playful again? No. She had shot the idea down so quickly that her mind reset to a blankness and instead continued to observe the still man before her.

As the couple stared at one another, Sasuke felt the bubbling of something unfamiliar in the back of his throat. At first, he thought it might be a human function but soon felt a tickling sensation in the back of his throat. He felt like laughing. But he couldn't allow that, one solid reason being that Sasuke Uchiha didn't laugh. Sure, he had before, most of which were with Sakura. But he couldn't allow himself to lose his control. He knew if he let down his guard, especially so close to her beautiful face, which had started to turn pink, he'd lose his resolve not to do more than just laugh with her. Instead, he choked the laugh down and let a small smirk place itself on his lips. He could manage that.

He was happy to see her less depressed, even at his own expense, but wholly unwilling to let go of his placidity. Even still, Sakura found herself elated. Sasuke was smiling! Her cheeks burned bright, and her own smile came like a title wave. The two stayed like this, smiling at one another, almost like they had the day he left over a year ago, and it was at that thought that shot right through Sakura that she had to wrench her way out of the moment. Her eyes turned downcast; she pulled her head away under the guise of grabbing her sandal off the ground and turned her back to the man.

While Sasuke wouldn't question her reasons, he was hurt by how quickly she wanted to escape his touch. Was he right in assuming she meant her confession in a manner of friendship? Her reaction to being so close to him made it seem so. That possibility had been looming since last night, and maybe it was stupid of him to assume any other possibility could have existed. Another feeling, like being squeezed, took hold of his throat. To squash the feeling, Sasuke headed towards the door. He needed some excuse to leave the room, not at all comfortable with his control over this feeling that was ready to take over.

"I'm checking us out. I'll meet you outside." And he was gone.

Sakura hadn't been able to focus on tying her straps. She tied them again for the third time before finally getting it right. He'd done it again. He made her feel like there was something between them other than friendship and gratitude. And as always, she was all too willing to let the feelings of hope invade her heart just to eviscerate it. But, then again, why had he been so different? Sasuke wasn't like this, but something had made him so willing and comfortable smiling with her. It had been so long since he was so carefree, usually only expressed in their youth with Naruto and the small exchanges after he'd been released from prison. Naruto had gathered team seven on a dinner night the day Sasuke had been unshackled, and while it had been tense, aside from Naruto's carefree attitude, which was the norm, Sasuke had been far less rigid. But then, the next day, he'd been off on his atonement, poking her forehead almost lovingly, giving false promises of her being allowed at his side on this journey next time. Was Sakura so willing to keep fooling her heart? The tragic answer would always be yes.

The isolated annular town of Suna came into focus for the two Konoha shinobi. Sakura, having come to Suna on many diplomatic and business visits for her children's hospital, greeted the Suna guards kindly. They all quickly greeted her in a professional yet enamored exchange; while used to the attention, Sakura couldn't help but blush. She was often established as a beauty of Konoha. Whether or not she believed it was not the question. She was unmistakably beautiful to many of the opposite sex, only exacerbated by the fact that she was a well-rounded medical expert and ungodly strong. A force all unto her own, the Haruno was, in a word, desirable.

While Sasuke was not unaware of such a fact, witnessing it being so blatantly displayed made the Uchiha unconsciously stand closer to his companion's side. Uncomfortable with the ogling eyes of the men who weren't so subtle as to be tasteful, at least to a thoroughly vexed Uchiha, the man quickly interjected.

"We're here to see the Kazakage. It's urgent."

Sasuke's aura had shifted a darker shade, Sakura noticed. Convinced he was eager to finish the mission, Sakura reiterated her partner's words.

"Yes, it is urgent. We were invited to see him immediately." However, her tone was more sickly sweet not to snub her admirers.

Though Sakura didn't care much for being an object of anyone but the Uchiha's desire, any woman would be so inclined to accept the sentiment. Besides, she must do business with Suna often, so keeping cordial communication was essential. Who cared if it boosted her much-needed and recently thwarted ego?

"We apologize, Ms. Sakura. Someone from the council should be arriving soon."

"Thank you, Hajime."

The group of men called to the council members for confirmation. Though none of the ninjas questioned their romantic fixation, she was a foreign ninja. Even in the times of more peaceful diplomacy, they had to protect their villages. Sakura took no offense.

It wasn't long before a new presence came into the fold, more like jumped in, and the unmistakable face of a purple-painted Kankuro greeted them.

Sakura was happy to see it was Kankuro that greeted them this time. Since she'd saved his life, and more recently, since she'd come to Suna frequently for business, she and the puppet master had become friends. He was similar to Naruto in that he had a boyish charm about him. Though Kankuro was far more astute, he made Sakura feel at home in Suna. He'd even occasionally taken her out for dinner while she stayed in the village.

"Kankuro!" Sakura elates with a small pat on the man's shoulder.

"Hey Sakura, it's always a pleasure to see your face here. Makes Suna a little brighter and a lot prettier."

Kankuro was not a subtle man. Assuming his flirting had been rather forthcoming, he found his words rang true mostly. He did rather enjoy Sakura's company. However, he wasn't so delusional to think she felt the same way. Besides, she was head-over-heels for the Uchiha man, which was sickeningly evident to the whole world and so well known, in fact, that most men wouldn't dare touch her. Even if the two never made it official, word between the villages spread quickly nowadays with less gatekeeping and because Kakashi was a big mouth. Kankuro was the brother of the Kazakage, and believe it or not, Gaara was a bit of a gossip himself. Kakashi and his baby brother's favorite topics were usually of the team seven members and lately had been on what to do with the two left unmarried.

The Uchiha had accompanied the woman on this journey today, which Kankuro had been well aware of. He inwardly smirked at the noticeable shift in the man that only another man would notice. It was the silent claiming of a mate. It was like a scent being wafted in the air, postulating the unquestionable fact that she was his. Kankuro could feel it but was determined to have too much fun with it.

Sasuke felt an involuntary eye twitch at the coquettish greeting. Sasuke's eyes followed the touch, and his eyes almost shifted to Sharingan. He needed to get a grip. Of course, she was close to others; she was inviting, but he'd been blindsided by how informal and agreeable she was with this man in particular and how forthrightly amorous he was. No, Sasuke Uchiha was not jealous; he didn't even know what the word meant. He tried to convince himself of this, which only proved him wrong when Kankuro quickly wrapped his arm around Sakura's shoulder, bringing her to his side and beginning his walk through the Suna gates. Sasuke's eye flashed red; he could feel it, and he could also feel the stare like kunai at the back of the painted-up shinobi. Diplomacy be damned.

Kankuro led the team through, and the nin were off to the Kage tower. Sakura was first through the door, Sasuke letting her take the reigns as she was more familiar with the layout, even if they were just shadowing the puppet user.

The two-tone-eyed man was silently seething, though he looked unmoved. The puppet guy had been updating Sakura on his life story since they arrived. Sasuke was not impressed. Though he supposed he had no real reason to be on edge, he still struggled with the feeling in his gut. It was uncomfortable, and it radiated like a shockwave throughout his shoulders. His eyes never left the two ninjas' backs as they spoke comfortably next to one another while they all ran through the hall toward the top of the tower.

Neither Konoha ninja asked about the details of their mission, knowing all too well that even with the aura of carefree abandon, Kankuro was hiding the specifics behind a thinly veiled, untroubled exterior. Even with the basic information that Gaara was sick, Sakura knew her friend well enough to see he was hurting. The puppet user kept up his facade of satirical arrogance, unwavering in keeping up appearances to not let on how dire the situation had become.

But, even still, the man had become noticeably more relaxed at the arrival of the medical expert. He'd been able to let his shoulders unstiffen, and his mind wandered to something other than looming death. For that alone, he was grateful to Sakura. Glancing to his side at the pinkette, he found he smiled genuinely for the first time in a week. Even if she couldn't save Gaara, which he had no doubt in her abilities, at least she would be here, even if at the end. He could deal with that.

Sasuke watched the eyes of the man who watched Sakura like the brightest sun had invaded his world. He knew that look. If he weren't so safeguarded by his own feelings, he'd show the woman that look every second of the day. Gutless, he held it behind a mask of indifference and instead had to witness it before his own eyes. Why did he feel a radiating heat in the palm of his hand now? Even still, he couldn't look away, no matter if the image before him was ripping at his heart.

Kankuro couldn't help but feel a little happy at the proverbial kunai being dealt at his back. He wasn't blind to the Uchiha's radiating anger, even if Sakura was. Instead, he welcomed the nice distraction. It was precisely that reason he'd laid on the charm this time. He'd been all but inveigled into the puppet show, in which he was pulling the Uchiha's strings to see where he'd snap. Though he wasn't familiar with the feeling of shame, he supposed he felt a little regrettable that he'd have to be so forward with Sakura. But, hey, anything to distract and help out a friend. He'd gladly incur the wrath of the Uchiha if it meant he no longer had to hear Gaara and Kakashi blather on about this couple who couldn't get their heads out of their asses. This would be a piece of cake. Kakashi was right; Sasuke just needed a little push, and Kankuro was the perfect man for the job.

Time to gambol was coming to a close when they reached the solid brown door to Gaara's chambers. The stiffness returned tenfold, and his spritely disposition ceased at the looming door.

"Here it is," Kankuro said, downtrodden, and pushed the door open to reveal an ailing Gaara, the Kazakage. He was standing in a slouched position, assisted by a medical walker, of which his white knuckles gripped like a vice—a sallow look held firmly on his thinning face.

"Sakura. Sasuke Uchiha. Welcome." His deep voice croaked out the words as if perpetually parched.

Sakura was quick to his side, instantly embracing her natural doctor role with expert practice. Sasuke stood, perturbed and instantly on alert. The man looked as if he were dying before their eyes. It was no wonder why the mission details had been so mum. Sasuke instantly turned to the puppet master, averting his dislike and jealousy to a distant, nagging corner of his mind.

"Tell us everything."

Author's notes

I want to take a moment to say thank you so much for the engagement on this story. I struggle a lot with my confidence in my writing ability and the fact that this story is getting noticed at all is a comfort to me. Than you so much to Power134 for your comments. I am so grateful for your feedback. To anyone reading or commenting, you're the best and the entire reason I post the story here and don't just write this out for myself. I love sharing this journey with you all and I hope you do too. Thank you for reading!

Until next time,

- Monsta~