A/N: Ughh, couldn't upload the chapter earlier due to FFN being down.

Anyway, I started a new job, which means writing time has sadly been reduced to weekends, when it has to compete with other family obligations. Sigh. I may not be able to update as quickly as I want, but I'll try my best to upload consistently and not let more than a month pass by in between updates. If any of you have questions about my updates or stories, feel free to PM me.

Chapter 9

The unforgiving throbbing in her head was her body's protest against her consent to yet another restless night. Sleep had eluded her once again, unsurprisingly—but startlingly because of a different reason… a different person. For the first time, she didn't see black in her violent nightly thoughts, but red. And those jade eyes, they became tattooed in her mind, enchanting and tormenting her at the same time.

Groaning, Sakura planted her face into her palms, unwilling to relieve the soreness in her temples with a quick fix that she knew all too well as a medic. She wanted the discomfort to stay, to exist as a temporary distraction. But she knew the aches would eventually fade, and she'd be left to confront her rampant emotions colliding all at once. Her thoughts were pulled taut in all directions, hampering her ability to rationalize.

Exasperated, she questioned why she'd said what she said and did what she did. Her more than innocent gestures from the night before replayed in her head like an unending cycle, augmenting her consternation. How did things lead up to this point, from that time she'd coincidentally run into him months ago until last night?

At last, he hasn't done anything wrong; she was the culprit. All he did was to show her a bit of kindness, and she'd let it root in her heart. The bit of attachment toward him that she'd nurtured freely without any discretion had burgeoned into something out of her conscious control. What was it that drew her to him so much so to behave in such an irresponsible way? Admiration? Attraction? Lust? She couldn't afford to harbor these wanton feelings.

No, never, given her role.

She was a wife and a mother, and it was forbidden for her to covet anything different… Still, as a wife and mother, didn't she deserve to be supported and loved? Was it so wrong to want someone to lean on?

Even so, it wasn't something for him to give her, nor for her to ask from him. But she did, nonetheless. From the very first time she invited him into her home, she'd unknowingly invited him into a space in her heart.

Gaara is a friend.

Sakura painfully reminded herself, her jaw clenched. Or maybe, after what happened last night, was a friend… Although it should be the least of her concerns now given all her underlying issues that were emerging, she couldn't help but worry… worry about what Gaara would think of her now.

"Good morning, Mama." A breezy voice rang in Sakura's ears, as she lifted her face from her hands to see her daughter strolling into the living room.

"Good morning," she imitated, unable to mask her tiredness and bring her morning mood to match her daughter's gaiety. Still, she'd try to muster all her energy into putting up her usual front. Just then, she reckoned it was time to get started with her responsibilities for the day.

"What would you like for breakfast?" Sakura asked, with every intent to push herself to her feet and make her way to the kitchen—welcoming anything to distract her from agonizingly mulling over last night's episode and driving herself to the brink of madness. Her sleep-deprived body refused to let her move from her seat, however.

Sarada had reached her side by the dining table. Instead of answering her question, she read her with concerned eyes. "Are you okay? Is something bothering you?"

"I'm fine, Sarada," she lied with a fake smile, feeling a bit ashamed as she did so. "So for breakfast, is toast okay?"

The young girl's eyebrows rose. She looked not persuaded in the least but decided to let Sakura keep her untold secrets guarded for the time being. "It's okay. I can make it."

Having made the offer, Sarada turned on her heels and moved to the kitchen. Soon the clacking of pots and pans were heard. From her seat, Sakura watched as her daughter worked proficiently on her cooking task. Despite how often they butted heads with each other, there were times when she felt that Sarada, through her words and actions, was the more mature one in the household. She is growing up fast… The thought occurred to Sakura, as the artificial smile she wore evaporated. As for herself, though? She really was the worst mother, she concluded glumly.

"The party last night was great, right?" Over the sounds of cabinet doors opening and closing, Sarada chirped.

"Yeah… it was nice," Sakura merely echoed in agreement, without devoting much thought to the subject.

"Too bad Gaara-ojisan couldn't make it…"

The innocuous comment unnerved Sakura at once, and she knew it wasn't because of her daughter's disappointed tone. The aches in her head and heart were about to increase twofold.

A moment of hesitation kept Sakura muted, until she eventually decided that it wouldn't sit well with her to hide the fact. In almost a hushed whisper, she revealed, "He did come…"

"What, really? Why didn't you tell me?" Sarada's reaction was instant. She poked her head over the kitchen counter to look at Sakura squarely. The pitch of her voice raised higher, the subtle note of irritation within was perceivable.

"It was late. You had already slept." Sakura kept her explanation short and simple, not ready to delve deep into the topic.

"By the way, he brought a present for you. It's on the coffee table," she then added and watched her daughter cease all her food prep and sprint from the kitchen to the living room, efficiently covering the short distance between the two locations in under a second.

"So what did you guys do then?" Sarada hummed distractedly, her hands already began their eager work at freeing a gift box out of its wrapping.

"We… we took a walk…" Sakura responded a little weakly. She pursed her lips, knowing full well that her answer was far, far from the whole truth.

"That's it?"

"That's it," she repeated. The smallest vibration in her tone went undetected by the young girl, who was now too busy admiring a set of sleek custom-made steel kunai she uncovered out of the box.

She continued to study Sarada, as the latter was now enthusiastically examining the aesthetics of the brand new weapon in her hands. The sight was enough to make a more natural smile break through the stiff shell of her face, despite the distress that Sakura was trying hard to disguise at the moment. She figured if she set her focus on her daughter, she might just be able to inhibit all her reeling thoughts about a particular red-haired man. But even then, it was only a short-term solution. Soon Sarada would be out and about with her team to tackle their newest assignments. As for herself, Sakura was uneasy about how she'd carry on with her day on her own, and in such an unbalanced state too.

Right now, she needed a distraction more than anything.

Brinng, brinng.

The telephone rang as if a call to her prayer. Sakura succeeded in forcing herself to her feet this time around and proceeded to answer the phone. "Hello?"

It took mere seconds before the message conveyed from the other end of the line caused her eyes to widen in shock. With a sense of utmost urgency, Sakura uttered into the receiver:

"I will be right there!"

To have someone dominate his thoughts when his insomnia haunted his nights was unprecedented. It was strange indeed to break away from his usual routine of inspecting the fine lines in the inter-village treaties, devising a funding strategy for Suna's infrastructure, and so on, while the rest of humanity was wrapped in deep slumber. For the first time, his mind spent the abundant time afforded by his sleepless state obsessing over every word, every movement, and every expression of one sole person. He'd found it utterly troubling and unproductive. Yet, just as much riveting.

"You really are handsome."

Her words ran though his head in loops, rousing him in an alien and unaccustomed way. She was not the first to tell him such, but unlike another, his heart swelled with pride at her compliment as it fed into a sense of vanity that he never knew he actually possessed. Perhaps it had to do with the manner she'd scrutinized him with those passionate green eyes; they penetrated his layer of indifference and made him self-conscious.

"Gaara. Are you listening?"

Barely.

He was currently facing out the open window with one elbow atop the table and his chin against the heel of his palm. He'd been watching the streets where people hustled about their ways, but faceless and nameless moving figures were all his mind registered. His posture gave every indication that whatever latched onto his thoughts at that moment had full control of his concentration.

It was unlike him to dwell on her flattering words. If it weren't for her accompanying actions, he'd daresay that years of sleep deprivation had finally wrecked his mental health enough for him to develop some kind of compulsive disorder, which made him try to make something out of nothing... But it was not nothing, and he was fully cognizant of the way she'd tenderly laid her hand on the side of his face, the way she'd revealed her admiration of him through her unyielding gaze, and the way she'd shifted closer until their breaths mingled…

"Gaara."

At the second and a more vocal attempt for his attention, Gaara rolled his eyes idly toward the blonde woman seated across from him. "Yes, Temari."

"Something on your mind?" she asked, brows knitted.

"No." His toneless reply did not betray his lie, and he managed to mold his expression just as such, undemonstrative.

The frown Temari wore endured, a sign that she was markedly unconvinced by his answer; but she opted not to prowl after him for the truth as she quietly regarded him without any follow-up. An apt decision by his sister, Gaara inwardly approved. After all, they were on the same wavelength that if he'd wanted to volunteer the inner workings of his mind, he'd have shared them in the first place. Now, if only his other sibling were as in tune to his cues and harassed him less, he'd then truly be able to count his blessings.

Temari finally relaxed her forehead and reclined a bit more comfortably against her seat. Her eyes remained on him, as she resumed, "Anyway, as I was saying… I wish you could've given me some heads-up that you were planning to take time off from work. Not that I'm against it—in fact, I think it's great that you are getting a break. It's just that…"

A temporary moment of silence impregnated the air before she continued gingerly, "Are you sure Kankuro's got a good handle on things in Suna?"

"He's perfectly capable. I don't doubt his abilities to manage the village affairs while I'm absent," Gaara advocated for the middle child of the family who was missing in person from their conversation, though the back of his mind involuntarily gravitated toward the mischievous grin his older brother had parted him with as he casually propped his legs over the desk in the Kazekage's office. In spite of his words of confidence, he grimaced, trying to expunge the image of his village going up in flames from his head.

At his reassurance, Temari nodded in support of his judgment albeit without much fervor. "If you say so..."

"So have you decided what you'll be doing for your vacation here?" Taking a sip of her tea, his sister posed yet another question.

"I haven't made specific plans," he said flatly, all the while thinking to himself that his answer reflected just how unusual again it was for him to carve time out of his regimented schedule without much forethought.

Upon close introspection, Gaara admitted that a lot of the things he did lately were uncharacteristic of him. Even this so-called vacation of his, in truth, was a deliberate effort to come to Konoha when he had no other causes to supply him an opportunity for a visit. It was just so he could fulfill a self-imposed obligation he felt toward a certain pair of mother and daughter, for whom he'd apparently developed an affinity. However, in doing so, he'd experienced an unexpected turn of events. After last night, his confusion deepened, and he was never going to get clarity on where his stance was in relation to the older occupant of the Uchiha household.

"You are welcome to stay with us, or drop by more at least," Temari suggested, a small smile brightened her features.

"I appreciate the offer," he thanked her but made no subsequent commitments.

The curve of Temari's lips straightened, and Gaara felt a twinge of guilt jab his conscience at the indication that he'd doused his sister's enthusiasm and her goodwill. When she'd learned about his time away from work, Temari had invited him to a quaint restaurant for lunch, intending to compensate for what she referred to as "quality family time" lost due to their time apart. Instead, Gaara had ungraciously spent the majority of their outing being consumed by none other than his conflicting thoughts about Sakura.

Before Gaara could let loose a sigh of weariness, Temari stole his opportunity and released one of her own, but of resignation. She eventually turned her head away from him to the direction of the streets and assumed the activity of people-watching. His sister had decided to let a companionable silence settle between them until their food arrives at their table, allowing him the liberty to return to his brooding state.

And he was thankful for her being accommodating of his current reluctance for friendly small talks. So he'd take advantage of the freedom she granted him to let those crowding thoughts in his head linger; it wasn't like he could do much of anything else anyway at the moment, he grunted, for his obsessive mind would not permit him otherwise. It wasn't long before memories of the previous night attached to his thoughts like a parasite. When he remembered how Sakura's lips had hovered over his, his insides shuddered.

It was a feeling that excited him more than it should and bothered him less than it should; instead, he found himself intrigued. So now, he was entirely undecided on whether he should be perturbed by this phenomenon or not.

Gaara had spent his younger years alienating people, intentionally and unintentionally. In his adult life, he'd endeavored to make connections with others, as inspired by his dearest friend Naruto. Even so, given that most of his interpersonal interactions were business-based, he'd mostly dealt with everyone with professionalism and a certain measure of emotional detachment that came associated with it.

As for Sakura, she fell out of that category.

Yes, he opened himself to connect with her. In that process, however, he'd gotten close—too close. Now that he was waist-deep in whatever a relationship that they cultivated, he found himself unable to disengage.

Bringing his other elbow on top of the table before him, Gaara pressed his mouth into the knuckles of his jointed hands and closed his eyes. He'd have to be literally blind to miss the overture hinted by her bold and unanticipated move. Was Sakura attracted to him? Did she want "something" between them? The dynamics between them had arguably changed. He could feel the fine line called friendship that provided a degree of separation between them thinning some more.

A seedling of an idea was now sowed in his head, and he was positively triggered. He was wading into an unknown dangerous territory, and he was wary. And he knew this, because? His jaw hardened. Well, because he wasn't so sure if he could've—no, worse, would've stopped her in her venture if she hadn't…

This was wholly inappropriate on another level.

He needed a distraction, Gaara had ultimately concluded. Without his paperwork around to fulfill the job, he'd decided a round—or perhaps, several rounds of meditations was in order to prevent his thoughts from going wayward.

And so, it appeared that he'd indeed found something to do for his vacation just now.