Follow the Sun, Excerpts of Time

Installment 4; Part 4

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A sudden light cut through the darkness, the beams so blinding that Jori hid his face from them against Sakura's shoulder. He could hear voices again, familiar and close, unlike in that void where all that could be heard was the howling of the wind, sounding like horrible laughter from a place unknown. He'd been shaking when the sand overtook them in the stairwell, and he'd flinched when it brushed against his skin. The sudden shift in his physical state made him feel fuzzy and weightless, and he clung tightly to Sakura in fear that he would float away into the swirling current of sand that surrounded them.

But now he could feel the warmth of the sun again and it brought his frightened mind some ease.

Jori peered up from Sakura's shoulder and watched quietly for a moment as all around them the sand settled to the ground. He noticed that Sakura paid it no mind, he had seen how she moved through it without hesitation and was reminded of her words in the stairwell. It's not dangerous, and no, it really hadn't been.

He watched as Gaara's hand slipped from her waist when she moved away, and how the tips of his fingers lingered on her all they could. He drew his brow together in thought, it looked familiar, like something he had seen back at home.

"Medic!" Sakura's voice called out. "I have a child here!"

She only managed a few paces toward the medic station before Jori felt two strong hands grip him beneath his arms and pull him away from Sakura. Within a moment she was out of his grasp and he was able to glimpse her in the clear light of the morning, the building behind her billowing smoke and ash into the sky. He was hoisted into a male medic's arms, his grip strong and protective, and –

"Jori!"

The young boy turned his face to his mother, she had broken the boundary line and was running toward him, her arms open and her ashen cheeks streaked with tears. She embraced him for a moment, keeping pace with the medic as they brought him to a station for examination, and he was soon blubbering tearful apologies to her.

Gaara quietly observed as Jori's mother sobbed with joy for his safety, and felt the sharp twisting of guilt in his gut. Feeling compelled, he stepped towards Sakura once, intending to say something, to thank her for saving the boy, but the advancing captain of the medical staff quickly silenced any attempt.

"Miss Haruno?" she spoke as she stood tall before Sakura. "Are you hurt? Do you require any assistance?" she asked.

Sakura shook her head. "I'm all right."

Gaara glanced down to her hands, the bloodied palm turned to face away from the woman. "She's cut her hand," he stated, earning Sakura a rather stern look from the medic.

She paused a moment, her pride telling her not to admit to this small defeat. She had almost made it completely unscathed, after all, and it was just a silly little cut, a brief error in judgement, nothing to fret over. But she swallowed her pride and spoke evenly. "I'll just need a sanitary cloth."

The woman nodded, digging into her utility pouch and pulling out a thick packet and small bottle. She raised her eyes to Gaara then. "You may return to assisting the fire squad, I'd like a private discussion with Sakura."

Gaara hesitated, he could see the restrained anger behind her eyes and, for a moment, was unwilling to allow Sakura to bear the full brunt of it alone.

"They could use your help," Sakura said evenly, her way of saying she could handle the conversation herself.

He nodded to them, his gaze lingering on Sakura for a moment more before he turned back to finish what he'd started with the fire.

Twisting off the cap to her bottle, the head medic poured a steady stream of disinfectant into Sakura's cupped hand, allowing it to pool there. "Looks rough," she noted. "How did this happen?"

Sakura winced, peering over to Gaara as Temari run up to him. She seemed frantic as she spoke to him, her eyes constantly darting back Sakura's way. "I was trying to get his attention," she admitted. "Gaara's, I mean." Sakura thought over her decisions in the stairwell, her lips pressed into a shallow scowl. "I forgot how sharp it could be."

"Regardless of the sand," the woman began. She ripped open the fresh packet and pulled out a thin cotton towel moistened with a sanitizer. "You could have been seriously injured, or even worse. You put yourself at great risk, as well as that boy."

Sakura sucked in a breath at the woman's words. She felt quick retaliation bubble up her throat and held her tongue against it. "No one listened to her," Sakura said, accepting a sanitary towel for her palm. She pressed it to the cut and thinned her lips at the sting. "He was still in there."

Watching as Sakura tended to the open wound, the woman raised a hand in assistance. "I can help," she offered quickly. Even in her panic she wasn't about to let her injuries go untreated.

"I've got it," Sakura assured her. "I've fixed worse."

The medic paused, carefully observing Sakura as she mended her palm. "You could have gotten help," she stated, her words back to the pressing matter at hand. "You had no jurisdiction to put yourself in danger like that."

"His mother was asking everyone-"

"You had a young boy with you and we could have lost you both," she stated curtly, silencing Sakura in a moment. "What was your plan of exit? And what about a contingency plan? The building is on fire and you went in alone, Sakura. What about the back up for the contingency?"

Sakura found her lips cemented shut. There was nothing she could say, she knew she didn't have a pack up plan, she didn't even have a plan to begin with. But she couldn't just do nothing and, at the time, everything short of running in there herself seemed like doing nothing. She glanced back to the building behind her. The sky was clouded in smoke, the windows glowed from within, and whole inn groaned and creaked under the strain of the blaze.

She felt her lower lip quiver, felt the familiar weight of failure settle in her gut, and she sucked in a steadying breath. She'd messed up, again.

"Let me see," the medic ordered. Sakura held up her hand and let the woman examine her palm. The blood obscured the wound, but her trained eye could see that the slice had been mended and the flesh appeared uninfected. "You did well," she said, her voice lifting to a tone of praise. "I'm impressed."

Sakura nodded, not wanting the tightness taking hold of her throat to betray her voice.

The medic looked Sakura squarely in the eyes. "You may be very skilled," she began, her voice taking on the more patient tone of a mentor. "But you're far from a professional." Sakura swallowed and nodded, pushing down the tension threatening to rise in her gut. "Next time, don't overstep your bounds."

Sakura forced her lips to move, to not fall victim to her own unrest. "Yes, Ma'am," she muttered quietly, her eyes not completely locking with the woman before her, unable to meet that look of disappointment for a moment longer.

She turned on a heel and briskly stepped back to her friends, hoping to find some tenderness from them to help settle her nerves. Her shoulders were tense, her footsteps were heavy, and those in her path gave her a wide berth as she passed, uninterested in taking any part of her mistakes.

…

Temari, a bit high strung at this point, stood next to her brothers, her brow pursed with worry for both Gaara and Sakura. She'd seen them emerge from the building as the sand poured out with an urgency she didn't normally see from her cool and collected younger brother. Then she saw the boy in Sakura's arms and her heart fell to her feet.

"Gaara," she spoke quickly to her brother. "That boy, where was he?"

Gaara glanced at her as she addressed him, his expression tense. "Upstairs," he answered. "I found them in the stairwell. He'd been hiding in his room."

Temari shook her head, as if unable to believe him. "But," she started, her eyes moving to the evacuation team that had been tasked with ensuring all guests and employees were safe. They were currently looking to their feet as their own squad captain laid into them for missing the boy. "How did they miss him?" she asked. "I thought they did a full sweep."

"I should have checked," Gaara said, his voice was heavy with frustration. "I certainly should have known she was in there."

Temari let out a small breath as she felt that very responsibility rest on her shoulders as well.

"Uh oh," Kankuro muttered. "That doesn't look good." They looked on to the private discussion between Sakura and the head medic. They studied the conversation from a distance, reading the body language of the two and grimacing in empathy.

"I've seen her be a bigger bitch before," Temari huffed and shifted her weight nervously. "I feel bad," she said after a moment. "I don't think she should be in trouble."

"What if something happened to her?" Kankuro asked. "You remember the last time she was here? It was practically nonstop with that girl, I swear." He scoffed and shook his head.

Gaara shot a look over to his brother, careful not to allow them to distract him too much from his current task at hand. "She saved the boy," he said. "That counts for something."

Kankuro nodded. "Yeah, it does. But she's on vacation as a citizen, we gotta remember that she'd need the proper permits to act with us like this." Rather exacerbated with how his day off was shaping up, he continued. "I mean, everyone is blatantly looking the other way about her even being on this side of the boundary line."

"Shit," Temari muttered. "I didn't even think of that."

Gaara looked back to the burning building, his patience with the matter quickly growing thin. He'd been rather tempted to tear the whole building down and deem it unsalvageable, allowing himself an opportunity to work off the angry tension in his muscles.

Within a span of a few determined minutes, the windows and doors of the inn were spilling forth with mounding piles of sand. It felt hot under his touch, the burning embers underneath slowly cooking as he quilled the flames. He was certain at this point that he'd stopped the blaze, simply buried it under the unburnable, and withdrew his will from the sand. It noticeably slumped and fell to the will of gravity then, smoke silently leaking from the building around it. The inn was weak, he'd felt many of the supports fall to the fire and his sand, and he doubted any likelihood that it could be easily saved.

The captain of the first responders and the evacuation squad approached the three of them. "I can't thank you enough for your help," he said, addressing Gaara first. "Really saved our asses, pulling out that boy and dousing the flames." The captain turned to Temari and Kankuro. "You guys as well."

Gaara simply nodded, feeling urged to seek explanation for their shortcomings but held his tongue. It had been his shortcoming, he figured, his mistake in the very end. He should have checked; he should have been checking that whole time.

"I'd like no trespassing past the line for anyone until I can be sure the embers have fully cooled," the captain continued. "I've got concerns that without that sand holding the walls up, the whole thing might still come down. As far as digging it out later–"

"I'll come back to empty the building," Gaara interrupted. "Best to do it at distance."

The captain nodded with a smirk of appreciation. "You work the outer patrols, right?" he asked, the three of them nodding in response. "I'll send a request to the headquarters and get a message to you when it's time to clear her out, may be two or three days before the internal temperatures go down. Until then, we can take it from here, I'm sure you're all busy."

Temari and Kankuro excused themselves from the responders after ensuring there was nothing else for them to do, and Gaara had readily dismissed the conversation upon catching Sakura's swift approach.

Her steps were hard, her shoulders were high with tension, and there was a sheen to her eyes. He moved to meet her but his sister was quicker.

"Sakura, I'm so sorry," Temari said, her hands coming to rest reassuringly on Sakura's shoulders. "I should have done something."

Sakura shook her head and took a deep breath. "No, it's okay. I'm, um," she stammered, her eyes shifting over to Gaara for a second. "I'm not really feeling like breakfast anymore." Temari nodded. "I think I'm just going to head back to your place. If that's okay," she finished, muttering between them. She wasn't one to so readily admit defeat, but this had simply exhausted her.

Gaara, upon hearing this, stepped forward as if on command. "I can take you," he offered, a hand beginning to reach for her without thought.

"That's a good idea," Temari agreed. "We'll finish up and meet you back home," she said to Sakura, trying a smile in hopes of uplifting her, even a little. "I'll just grab some breakfast to-go in case you get hungry later."

Sakura nodded and thanked her, the hand at her waist already pulling her closer. She leaned into him, keeping her eyes low as the sand swirled up around them, not wanting to see any faces that might be looking their way, not wanting to feel that judgement. Welcoming the dissolve into the nothingness ahead of her, she allowed a crack in her resolve as her lips trembled and her watery eyes threatened to spill.

Gaara was quick about his retreat, he could read her clear has day and knew that she was looking for an escape. He would be that for her, gladly, she needn't even ask it of him. He could practically feel the burden she carried as if it were tangible when he swept her away like, as if it were a part of himself as well. With her physical body so entangled with his control, he still marveled at her willingness to blindly venture forth into his sands.

But how could she not? With such an intoxicating thrill about it all, she'd become addicted, and she intended to lose herself in it now. Shedding her stresses to the ethereal wind that swept her along, she distantly felt tears fall from a part of her she'd long lost track of, choosing only to focus on the energy she felt at her side, no…all around her.

Gaara hadn't often held her, and she didn't truly see their travel together as holding her either, but she could feel that he was now. Even before the wind died and the sand settled, even before she felt her feet touch the wooden floors of his home and felt her tears soak the shoulder of his shirt, she felt encircled by the warmth of him.

Her hands gripped his shirt, turning her face into his shoulder and trying to maintain her control over herself under the tenderness of his touch, but her resolve quickly broke.

"It's okay," Gaara assured her quietly, a little more confident in his ability to quell her turmoil when not under the scrutiny of others. She shook a little at his words, choking back a sob and ghosting hot breath onto his neck. "Let it out."

He hadn't known of her struggles with school, of the reprimand she'd faced for saving him all those weeks ago, and felt he was the one that allowed the trouble she faced now. He kept her close to him, savoring the way she drew into his embrace, the way her hair still smelled of her morning shower, the weight of her stresses and her sorrows as she let them spill. He'd take it all and still be left wanting more, absolutely gluttonous as it were, even in these less than satisfactory moments.

Sakura's heart thrummed in her throat, a strange slurry of the ache of her cries and the echoes of his fingers stroking her hair, his hand securing hold on her waist. She felt compelled to release the weeks of building tension and drain away her sorrows in the safety he offered, and she could no longer hold it back.

Eventually, after holding her a while and managing what he could to comfort her, Gaara noticed the reserves of her stress had depleted and the waters in her eyes ceased to run.

"Thank you," she whispered, seeking out more of his strength as she tucked her head to his shoulder. "You don't have to stay with me."

He could feel her nose brush his collarbone, feel the warmth of her shallow breathing, tried to fight back the feeling of goosebumps on his skin. "I do," he answered, finding the truth behind his words absolute. "If that's what you want."

It was, she knew that, but admitting it felt next to impossible. "You have patrol soon," she spoke quietly, quickly dousing whatever hopes he had of remaining with her.

He looked to the clock on the nightstand, the digital time an affront to the eyes, and scowled. "I could have someone else cover," he offered, hoping she might find this agreeable.

"You should go," she said, her voice just a bit stronger, more confident in herself, and he knew there was no convincing her otherwise. "No one does it quite like you, after all."

Gaara thought about countering her reason, trying what he could to extend this moment caught up in their solitude, but found any argument fruitless in the face of her resolve. "You're sure?" He nearly grimaced as the words left him, sure that they sounded rather desperate.

Sakura nodded and mumbled in agreement. "I'll be okay," she said. "I'm just overtired, should catch up on sleep."

"Right." He stood there a moment longer before finally drawing away from her. She seemed to lag against him as he stepped away, her hands remaining at his shoulders just as his seemed to linger about her waist. "I should get going."

"Don't be late." She kept her eyes low, too nervous to catch his gaze with her heart already jumping in her throat as it were.

He hovered there for a second, uncomfortable with how her absence left a chill where her skin had touched his own, with how his hands felt empty without the curve of her waistline, or the slope of her hip. "I'll be back," he found himself promising, as if naively thinking he'd be permitted to them again upon his return.

Sakura cleared her throat and reached for a tissue to dry her eyes. "Be careful."

He nodded, finally relenting to her clear desire for privacy, and called up his sand. It swallowed him up without another word and slipped away through the open window.

Within the whirlwind he could hear that beast laugh at him, cackling away in the far reaches of his perception, mocking him yet again. He knew it was coming, he'd been too worked up and too desperate to miss the opportunity to exhaust him even further. Gaara could feel the rising headache, the claws inside his skull, and cursed the demon and the shackles that bound them.

…

Materializing a few miles from the western gate, in the middle of the imperceptible trail over the quiet dunes, Gaara stood there for a prolonged moment. He cracked his knuckles, no one around to tell him not to, and was granted a few pops from his neck as well. It seemed to help and he set forth for a long afternoon of empty trails and troubling thoughts.

He couldn't seem to shake the images from the stairwell; a building on fire, the feeling of blood on his sand and the fear of Sakura being in danger, the immense heat as he threw himself into the blaze to find her.

That boy…

Jori…the fear he'd put into the poor boy wasn't something he'd soon allow himself to forget, and he'd almost left him there. He hadn't even looked up at him. He scowled as his stomach twisted with guilt, an overbearing and loathsome emotion he wished to never acquaint himself with again.

You failed…

How could he have failed? Had he been so preoccupied by her that he'd lost focus? Had she distracted him?

I warned you…she makes you weak.

Gaara stopped, the voice in his head sounding like it came from all around him, from behind every dune. His brow pulled together, he squeezed his thumb but it didn't pop, and his scowl drew deeper.

"No," he spoke after a moment, trying to force down that constant contradiction. Focusing on a few steadying breaths and attempting to quiet his mind, he spoke again, slowly and deliberately. "No, no she doesn't."

Something bubbled up inside him then, a resolve that felt as though it solidified the very sand at his feet, the ground turning hard in response to the undeniable force of his will as he pressed onward on his patrol through the far western trails.

"I must be better."

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