Hello!
Before we jump back in, and for some clarity since we are getting further into the story and our characters are accomplishing a great many things while still not up to the potential some readers may think should be depicted, I just wanted to shed some light on how my internal timeline for this series has gone so far. Since I've been working on this fan fiction little by little and in consecutive order for over five years, my frame of mind and writing style has changed and grown during that time, and the time between updates may have left some inconsistencies or gray areas in the writing.
So, for ages and timelines, I imagine that in my version of the Naruto world, Gaara and Sakura took the Chunin exams at sixteen years old and those with them, like Naruto and Gaara's siblings, would have would have been older accordingly. The events of Follow the Sun would have happened roughly six or seven months after the attack on the Leaf. In this timeline, Tsunade becomes Hokage before Naruto is ready to start his training with Jiraiya and Sakura is chosen to study medical jutsu (And just medicine in general) under her while still operating on Team 7. This education that she is getting will take a number of years for her to complete before she begins her practice, and she is only learning the fundamentals this early in her lessons.
Excerpts of Time comes in about four or five months later and it's already been, or nearly been, a year since the exams. Installment 2 would be a bit over a year since the exams, when Sasuke finally succumbs to the temptation of Orochimaru's power and secedes the village. The third installment would come after another four or five months, and Installment 4 has Sakura returning to the desert over a year after her first life-threatening ordeal out in wind country. They can be assumed to be eighteen, Naruto has finally left for his training with the great Sanin, and he will be gone for two years before the long-awaited fight with the Akatsuki; a lot can happen in that time.
So, looking back and rereading, this is the flow that the overall plot is riding on, and I thought I should clear that up.
This is also another reason why this fanfic is such a slow burn. They live days' worth of travel away from one another, have the inconsistent travel and communication technologies of the Narutoverse, have their own busy lives and career paths to devote themselves to, and have both made mistakes and are trying to work on themselves.
I also often wonder if this hasn't just been a love story for the sand siblings in general; I adore them all so much, I love the creative liberty that I have with their story and their background, and I love to write their growth and internal thoughts and external actions, their dynamic is so fun and can be so raw and real. Easily a huge reason why this fanfic is the length that it is, their separate stories are just as important to me, and I appreciate all of you that have joined me on this multifaceted and complex journey of self-improvement, friendship, ambitions, and love.
**CW: Depictions of CPR**
Follow the Sun: Excerpts of Time
Installment 4 (6)
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Shadows returned to the desert; the sun finished its scorching of the barren earth and allowed the shade to relieve thousands of weary residents in the hidden city. The afternoon was coming to an end, evening was quickly falling upon them, and a clandestine shift had occurred within the city streets. Once bustling with urgency in the heat of the day, the streets now held a leisurely excitement, the cooling air and the mercy of the shade coaxing citizens from their homes. Like most usual Friday evenings, the streets would soon echo with distant music, the hearty meals of the afternoon market would make way for snack foods and desserts, and the central square would be filled with artful craftsmen, entertainers, and dancing as well.
It was a novelty sight, especially for the children of the city; free to choose between games, firecrackers, foot races, puppet shows, and more. Their shrieking laughter and unintelligible shouting were the heralds of a weekend well deserved, an invitation to indulge in the magical hours of the desert.
The rowdy banter of the sizable gathering in the northern training fields was no exception to this. A group of twenty young men and women were anticipating the arrival of their sensei and had been buzzing with the fever of the impending evening.
Within the group, a familiar face could be seen happily conversing with her friends.
"Is he usually this late?" Hada asked, her eyes scanning the edges of the training grounds.
"Not usually," Matsuri replied. "He must be busy today." She had been keeping an eye out as well and had been wondering where Gaara was for a little while now.
It was already passed four-thirty and some of them had been waiting for over an hour to start their drills. They'd all met up at the grounds before the start of training and had done their typical group stretches and warmups, but their instructor was still nowhere to be seen. Normally never daring to be a bother, this time she allowed herself to be persuaded into trying to radio him for an update. Those near her had huddled closely to try and overhear any word that might have come through the speaker at her ear, but no reply was given, and they were left to wait.
A young man approached and addressed them. "What's he got planned?" he asked Matsuri, a few other faces turning to look their way.
Matsuri shrugged, averting her eyes and looking down. She was very happy to be back with their large group again, it was only every few weeks that they would gather like this for group drills, but as Gaara's only student she quickly became the center of attention.
It had been four months since they had been divvied up between the Sabaku's. Temari had received the highest number of new recruits, her years of experience and the fact that she was already a captain made her quite the appealing sensei to have bolster one's startup in Suna's ranks. Kankuro had gotten practically all the leftovers after that, his group being more so interested in the art of puppetry and poison studies, and a select few of them hoping that he'd be easier going than his sister. There was only one remaining soul that dared venture forth to stand before Gaara, and it had been the smallest and most timid of them all.
She hadn't known it, and he wouldn't compromise her ego by telling her, but Gaara had been instantly impressed with Matsuri. When the rest of her peers, all well ahead of her in talents, had shied away from their potential with him, she had risen to the occasion. A few students had asked that she reconsider, especially after the kidnapping she'd suffered through, but she had seen a side of Gaara that the rest of them had not. How could she abandon him as her teacher after he'd risked his safety to protect someone he'd only just met? He clearly hadn't presented as the beast she'd heard him to be, and in the solitude of their training he was a dedicated instructor.
Plus, there were other things that she wanted, guilty little interests that she knew she wouldn't get answers to if she were instructed by anyone else.
The young man sighed in exasperation. "What does he usually have you do?"
Matsuri did her best to hide her grimace. Her sensei certainly had his own way of running a class, but she wasn't sure how these apprehensive peers of hers would react to her past experiences. But intimidating as her sensei was and as fearsome as his power could be, he had yet to ever inflict harm on someone that she had seen.
That did not mean, however, that Gaara let her get off easy.
Matsuri looked to be about to speak, but her words, as well as the gathered group's boisterous shenanigans, quickly died the instant that a swirling of sand lifted from the ground ahead of them; delicate and breezy as it churned in the air, though the force carried on those grains was anything but.
Emerging from the flurry of sand, Gaara stood tall before the students, effectively the only thing standing between them and an eagerly awaited weekend. He scanned over the group that had frozen in place, the lot of them intermingled and lounging about on the ground, on benches, snacking on whatever crumbs they carried.
All went quiet on the grounds.
Matsuri stepped forward from her idle chat, stood at attention, and bowed. "Good afternoon, Gaara Sensei," she spoke from her bow.
Gaara moved his eyes to the rest of the group, arching a brow and folding his arms. "Well?"
All at once, the remaining nineteen arranged themselves in neat, predetermined lines and bowed to him in unison. The group repeated Matsuri's greeting in perfect harmony, and it wasn't until they had done so that Matsuri herself rose from her bow. She had learned quite early on that Gaara demanded the respect of those at his command, no matter how temporary, and found that he was very much agreeable if shown the least bit of etiquette.
"Good afternoon," he greeted back. "Everyone was aware that Temari and Kankuro would not be joining us today?" The group nodded. "I know you're all eager to be through with the week; we will run through preliminary drills, group up for sparring, and call it a day."
Murmuring echoed through the group, the students sharing excited side glances with one another.
"Just be sure to impress me," he added, the excitement of the group dissolving in an instant. He suppressed the urge to grin, there was something endearing about the way that he could sway their expressions one way or another with just a few words. "Let's get started."
The group dispersed into their usual groups and prepared to run through drills. Having no one to usually pair up with, Matsuri was put with her friend from Temari's team, Hada.
"Gaara Sensei?" she spoke, trying to keep her voice as controlled as possible. She'd been working on her confidence and, even though Gaara didn't take her hesitance personally, she didn't want the eyes that looked on her thinking that she still feared him.
Gaara offered her no reply but gave her his attention.
She swallowed, still finding the weight of his direct gaze difficult to shoulder at times. "Did you cancel yesterday because Sakura is visiting?"
The groups of genin all paused, curious eyes turning to look upon Matsuri and Gaara, watching as the two of them stared each other down. Gaara's face had gone rigid as a moment of silence passed, moments that Matsuri had learned to find patience through, before he finally moved his gaze to the rest of the group.
"Drills," he said curtly, addressing the idle stares pointed his way. "Now."
Obedience quickly followed but the looks of intrigue shared between them could not go unnoticed.
Gaara took a step towards Matsuri, his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze boring down on her. "She arrived a day earlier than anticipated," he explained.
Matsuri nodded, expecting as much, and continued. "Where is she now?"
Gaara thinned his lips and looked behind Matsuri to where Hada was awkwardly waiting for her to finish but not having the slightest intent to interrupt. "She is enjoying the city with Temari," he offered, his eyes returning to his student and falling on her a bit harder this time. "Why?"
This wasn't the first time that Matsuri had brought her up to Gaara. At first, she'd simply asked for a reminder of what her name had been; Sakura Haruno. Then, she'd asked about her studies; medical jutsu. About how they'd met in the past; which time, with no further explanation given. With the most recent question being when she was coming to visit; soon.
"I wanted to properly thank her for helping rescue me, so if I can treat her to something while she's here, I'd like to." She kept her feet pointed ahead of her and her shoulders squared, presenting as best she could in hopes that it might allow her what she wanted.
The lackluster recital of their drills and the obvious distraction that this questioning posed for the group was all the incentive Gaara needed to shut down the exchange.
"You are welcome to at a more convenient time," he agreed, all but turning her around at her shoulders to begin her own sets of drills. She seemed satisfied with this enough and began her practices with no other reluctance.
Gaara stood back in the shade of the equipment shed, pulled the lid from his canteen, and took a few long swigs of water. It was more than warm by this point, and the last of it didn't refresh him as it went down, but it hydrated nonetheless. His stomach turned, protesting against the lack of food, and he pulled a rice ball from his rations pouch. It was barely fist sized but it would hold him over until he got home. It was a shame that he'd been late to training and missed picking up his food, the day was already getting away from him and he'd been so clouded with thought that he barely realized how quickly it was passing.
By the time the students finished their drills it was likely to be after five o'clock, paired sparring usually took a few hours to get through the whole group – or so he'd been told, and at best he anticipated it being well past seven by the time he finally got back home.
Gaara grimaced as he chewed a bite of his rice ball, looking as though the taste of it was foul on his tongue, though it was his thoughts that had turned bitter. He wouldn't allow such time to waste away until then, he was dreadfully impatient already, and resolved to finish this training quickly. He had something in mind that would suffice an entire day's requirements in a single round, and he was sure they'd appreciate a fair ratio for everyone.
×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×
Temari and Sakura sat side by side, a stick of dango enjoyed by each, and they watched as the sky showed off its brilliant nightly display.
The sandstone walls of the city glowed warm in the flickering lantern light, glass windows reflected the painted sky above, and the array of decorative awnings, tapestries, and beautiful shawls created a kaleidoscope of color across the monochromatic landscape. All throughout the square before of them, children ran about between groups of people, hoisting their sparklers and confetti pops proudly above their heads. Couples danced in time to the lively music; all twirling their dresses of sheer drapery that billowed gracefully with each spin. Groups of young men gathered around street games the likes of cards and dice, luck and chance, eagerly awaiting their opportunity to win the big pot. Those that did soon found themselves with an exotic beauty tucked under their arm with eyes on their pockets for the evening. Everywhere that an eye could rest there was another sight to see; trinkets and knickknacks, magic and illusion, performance and captivation; all asking for just a simple coin, just moment of your time, giving promises of mischief and entertainment.
Sakura took a mouthful of dango and tapped the heels of her sandals together, savoring the delicate sweetness of the desert fruits used to flavor the treat. A cup of milk tea sat at her side, creamy and refreshing, and she washed down the sticky bite with a drink.
She wasn't sure if it had been the excitement of the morning, or the long trek she'd underwent to get here, but even after their full lunch Sakura seemed unable to turn down any offer for snack, beverage, or sweets. They'd dropped off the large order at the headquarters and she had been happy to say hello to the scouting squad again, but they weren't able to stay long and so she and Temari made off for home as quickly as they'd come. Kankruo had radioed saying he would be late and not to bother waiting for him, so they brought his and Gaara's food back home with them.
Taking a well-deserved seat at their dining table, they'd unpacked the remaining lunches and enjoyed a quiet meal alone. Unable to finish the whole thing, the leftovers went into the fridge and the other full clamshells followed suit.
It hadn't taken Temari long to notice that the container marked G had the only leftover chili oil tucked inside and not wanting to get another earful from Kankuro over the finer details of his food, she pulled a marker from the kitchen drawer, crossed out the initials written on the lids, and corrected them. She didn't really think about how none of the other containers had been marked, how none of the remaining sauces had been put with the other takeout. It hadn't been the first time that Naja had written specifications on their orders. She thought it a simple mistake and had left the curry dishes sitting in the fridge, waiting for whoever opened the door next.
"This is fun," Temari sighed as she leaned back, bringing her own cup to her lips for drink. "I don't often get to relax here."
Truthfully, she'd never come to the market with leisure in mind. There was always food to pick up, lunch meetings to make on time, necessities to replace, and always something to distract her. She'd never gotten to just sit and watch the city go by from the perch of a pedestrian, and she was grateful to have shared this moment with Sakura. Anyone else might not have seen the novelty in it, may have thought it mundane or business as usual but, in their company between them, they were both free to ogle and admire as fully as they desired.
"I love it," Sakura replied, her voice reminiscent of a daydream. "And I love this dress," she said looking down at her new attire. "You were right, it's really comfortable."
They'd stopped by a few merchant stalls to get Sakura some souvenirs and had come across a lovely little dress that Temari had insisted she try on. Reflecting a little more modern than the traditional clothing still worn by a great number of the residents of the desert, this dress was long enough to just about reach her ankles, had a wide collar to allow a breeze across the neck, and long oversized sleeves. The thin material was cream colored, the inconsistency in the dying and weave marked it as a handmade fabric, decorated with dainty embroidery taking the shape of reeds and water lilies at the hems. A simple drawstring with metal tassels cinched her waist and gave a little shape to the otherwise relaxed fit of the garment.
Sakura had liked the dress well enough and Temari didn't need to hear another word before swiftly removing the price tag and requesting a bag for Sakura's old clothes. She'd insisted that her friend have something lightweight and breathable to cover her skin from the sun, knowing that most layered clothing worn by everyone else would be too suffocating for her. She simply couldn't remain in what she'd brought with her; the cropped tank tops and capris that gave her relief in the summer forest would quickly turn against her in the desert, not to mention garner unnecessary attention from those that weren't used to seeing such a revealing amount of pale skin.
To remedy this, Temari had asked for another dress and a blouse to be discretely added to the bag by the shop owner.
"I'm glad you like it," Temari said grinning at her. "You look so cute."
Sakura smiled, feeling just as well as she sat next her to beautiful friend with a backdrop of the gorgeous desert city.
"Come on," Temari said as she hopped up from her seat, tossing her garbage from their snacks into a nearby bin. "I wanted to stop somewhere before we head home."
They made way toward the side of the market that Temari had dubbed Old Town, threading themselves through the writhing crowds enjoying all that the desert nightlife had to offer. On their way, there had been a man or two daring enough to ask Temari outright for a dance when they passed by the epicenter of the music, the smile she'd given with when declining was enough to dash hopes and break hearts. She'd whisk them away before any case could be pleaded, her artful maneuvering of a crowd may have looked to anyone else like a dance in its own way; gracefully and swiftly leading Sakura along.
Ahead of them, long green and white banners blew in the breeze, chimes rang out on the wind, and steam could be seen spiriting away into the evening sky; signifying the entrance to one of the largest and most well renowned public baths in the city; Lilly Dew House. Namesake of the drop of morning dew atop a petal of an Oasis Lilly, it conveyed the refreshment and rejuvenation that could be found within the baths. It was a reference to the dew water collected within rare oases; it was a coveted ingredient in nomadic homeopathy, an expensive and elusive commodity within the aired desert. Built during the height of business growth in the old districts, Lilly Dew was a classic attraction of the masses, one of the main things that drew tourists during their cooler seasons, and a popular weekend spot for locals who enjoyed the warm water during the brisk evenings all year round.
Sakura admired the decorative artwork that beckoned weary travelers into the establishment, the skill of the artists and craftsmen evident in every curve and angle of the sculptures, in every beautiful stain on the tilework, and in the keen eye used to embellish this grand reception hall. There was music echoing about in here as well. The structure resonated in such a way as to drown out the commotion of the market outside, leaving only the quiet murmuring of the instruments being played gently within the back of the building.
Temari held Sakura's arm in her own as they made their way through the line up to the front counter, trying to keep her excitement in check in front of her guest.
"Welcome," spoke the man behind the desk in a warm and inviting tone. "How may we help you enjoy your evening?"
Temari pulled a folded pamphlet from the display beside her and thumbed through it. "I heard you do packages with dinner and a soak."
Nodding, the receptionist pulled a separate brochure from the display and opened it on the counter for Temari to view. "You'll find them in here. We have several different ones to fit your preferences. Will only the two of you be joining us this evening?"
Temari shook her head, scanning over the paper. "I'd like to reserve a time for Sunday night if there are still openings." She decided, tapping the paper over her choice. "We'll be a family group of four, mixed, the full experience."
Opening the large ledger book, he flipped through until resting on the page of choice. It was nearly filled to the brim with small, neat script; every row claimed, and every column written in. He traced his finger down the page until landing on an empty square. "I can reserve you a table of six for 8:30, there is a ninety-minute soak that is included before this time." Temari, feeling slightly dejected, pursed her lips in thought; that was a late table for how early Sakura had to be up the next morning. Another folded pamphlet found its way into Temari's hands. "Entertainment for the evening will be Highland Company's esteemed string quartet on tour from the land of Tea; they are quite famous here at Lilly Dew House."
Sakura's eyes lit up and she looked to Temari with excitement. "Can we?" she asked, her voice breathless, the atmospheric lantern light twinkling in her green eyes. "I don't mind eating late."
Temari smiled and nodded. "We'll take the 8:30 table," she said to the attendant. She stuffed the pamphlet of the musicians into her bag and withdrew her money and military ID. Handing over her credentials, the man began taking her information for the reservation. "I figured it would be the best thing to do on your last night here," she said and she observed Sakura looking over the counter to try and get a peek at what was behind the curtain partitions leading into the baths. "You'll be all rested up for your trip back home."
The man gave her the total for the reservation, discreet and unassuming so that the guest in question didn't feel the need to contribute, and she paid it in full. Handing her a slip with their reservation, the attendant bowed his head and bid them a good evening as they the exited the line.
Sakura drew Temari into a tight embrace when they were back into the open air of the market, smiling as she pressed her cheek against her friend's. "You're the best, I'm so excited!"
"Don't mention it," she grinned, linking their arms together and strolling her through the market like a unique sort of arm decoration. "Just pay me back when I come visit."
Sakura squeezed her arm and nodded, fully intending to pay back with interest the hospitality she'd been shown amidst the arid sands that had beckoned her back into this magical place.
×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×
If there was one thing that Kankuro knew for certain, it was that Gaara owed him, big time.
Not only had he sacrificed his afternoon in attempt to give some direction to his wayward brother, but even his attempts to get back home a decent time to salvage his "day off" had failed miserably due to his selflessness.
It hadn't even been an hour into his return trek back to the city that he had come across a group of long-distance scouts heading out to the northeast for their weekend shift. They were idle on the trail, not a sight one usually saw in the baking sun of the afternoon, so he had stopped over to investigate. From what he had gathered; they'd left the city earlier that morning, had stopped at an outpost for lunch and, during a break for water further out on the trail, an unfortunate member of their group had sat down to rest atop a hidden scorpion den.
Quite the rude surprise, he'd been stung through the thin cotton of his tunic and their first-aid measures only went so far with scorpion venom. The pain was at its crux by the time Kankuro had come across them; he was fidgeting and growing hot, sweating out his water just as quickly as he could drink it, and the group had been redistributing their rations to allow a pair of them to help him back to the camp they'd been to earlier in the day. Kankuro had told them not to bother, offering his own hand to the injured man, and promised to be in contact once they reached the medical personnel staffed at the outpost.
Managing a man in need through the open desert was no small task, and it had taken him double the time it would have just to reach the structure erected in the open desert. He'd called for the medics and had stayed long enough to inform them of the events, fill out his involvement report, and radio word back to the remaining team continuing to the north.
But bureaucracy knew no haste, unfortunately, and time had passed slowly by without him.
Still in a considerable amount of pain with a cold sweat precipitating on his brow, the scout had thanked Kankuro when he came to see him off from his gurney. "Thanks man. I was causing them so much trouble, they probably would have left me out there," the young man said with a slight pain to his voice even though he was attempting to smirk.
Kankuro had simply shook his head and patted him on the shoulder. "You would have been fine; but I was happy to help. Don't sit on anymore bugs, all right?"
He left after that, his famishment driving him onward to the city where he had a promised meal waiting for him. It was just his luck that he offered to try and help Gaara – even a little – and he still couldn't make it back to the city before him. With any help on his part, maybe Gaara would be able to start training only a little late and not take the entire evening with the students. The whole group of them could be a handful, they were still just young genin after all, and he hoped that everything would be all right. Unsure who to be more concerned about, a group of kids up against Gaara or Gaara trying to handle a group of kids, he'd been bothered by worry. His worries hadn't been lessened when he'd tried to radio Gaara only to get long gaps of silence in between; a dead walkie, of course.
Oh well. Not his monkeys, not his circus.
The front door of the Sabaku home couldn't seem to open quickly enough and he huffed as cool air wafted across his face. The faint smell of curry still hung in the air and led him into the house, flicking on lights as he went. The curtains were drawn for the day to keep out the sunlight and he cracked some of the windows a few inches to let in the evening air. He looked up at the clock, pausing a minute and scowling at the face of it, and chose to overlook how late in the day it had actually gotten.
Kankuro withdrew his shirt and, on a path nearly worn down by his habits, he staggered passed the couch; receiving his shirt as he went, the kitchen table; chosen landing place of his field gear, and finally climbing the stairs one lumbering footstep at a time. He scratched his head over the sink upon entering the bathroom, his thick brown locks raining sand into the porcelain bowl, before wiping his sweaty hair from his face. The remainder of his clothing followed the example of the shirt and he stood naked in the shower before turning it on, bracing for the icy spray that would come before the more tolerable cold.
He hadn't even been out there for a full run and the water was already swirling brown at his feet, dirty with sand, dust, and sweat, and he scrubbed at his scalp to relieve himself of that maddening itch. It didn't take long for the ritual of washing to turn the water clear once again and he stepped from the shower, grabbing a towel to dry his face and only dry enough of his body to manage putting on a pair of drawstring lounge pants. With a more energetic pace this time, he descended the staircase and entered the kitchen.
The girls had left him a note on the table, directing to his leftovers in the fridge, and he needed no further persuasion. Out of the clamshell and onto a plate, he tossed the curry into the microwave and grabbed himself a drink while he waited. Water straight from the faucet was far from cold enough after an afternoon in the open desert, but he greedily took gulp after gulp from the faucet nozzle, thankful his sister wasn't around to scold him.
The microwave beeped and he used his old shirt to handle the plate. He set it down on the coffee table in front of the couch, next to his ongoing puppet project from the previous night that he intended to finish during his time off, and shook the chili oil that had been tucked near his rice.
Drizzling the oil over the steaming scoops of rice, his stomach growled, his mouth watered, and his nose flared at the spicy aroma of the curry.
×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×
For what it was worth, they weren't as bad as he had expected.
Gaara had known better than to expect the same outcome of the Sabaku's own training within the typical genin upstart. The perfection of form that he and his siblings had achieved was the result of an exponential growth path that had seen them skyrocketing past their peers, achieving A and S rank missions with proficiency, announcing them as prodigies, potential savants, and even the late Kazekage's living legacy. But even so, the progress that these genin had made in their short time with his siblings was impressive at its own rate and he was proud to see that his own student, usually so lonesome in their training sessions, was keeping up well with her classmates.
"Acceptable," he spoke shortly as he addressed the group. "Moving on."
The students all stood in rows before him once again now that their drills were through. They were breathing heavy, wiping sweat from their faces, and taking drinks from their waters, even in the growing shadows it was still hot after a good forty minutes of exercises. The clock mounted on the wall behind him could be heard steadily ticking away, unassuming yet unrelenting as the minutes passed by, and he resolved to draw their training to a close as soon as possible.
For once, Gaara was eagerly anticipating his arrival at home.
"For most of you," he began, taking a step out from his spot sat comfortably against the wall in the shade. "The concept of this exercise won't be new, but you may find it somewhat challenging. Do your best."
The students all nodded. A few of them yawned and splashed water on their faces, the heat of the day could be exhausting at times, and they all did their best to maintain a dwindling sense of focus.
"We will be playing a game," he continued, his voice was smooth and controlled. The students paused and looked between themselves but didn't seem to notice how Matsuri's eyes had snapped up to her sensei only to quickly scan over the faces of those stood at attention with her. "You're all familiar with Capture the Flag?"
The group nodded their heads and seemed confident enough. Matsuri's shoulders visibly slumped and she stifled a groan. Glancing back at Gaara; he could have laughed at the pleading look on her face.
"Good," Gaara said, holding back the urge to grin. "I'll only ask that you complete a single round before you're free to go, but you'll have to observe a few precautions."
Matsuri attempted to raise her hand. "Gaara Sen–"
"Be quiet, Matsuri," he said curtly, cutting her off. "Has anyone ever played Hot Lava?"
From the back of the group, Hada, having seen the way her friend reacted, raised her hand. "The children's game?"
Gaara broke a smile, he was trying to be pleasant about it though he wasn't placing any bets in his favor. "Precisely." A little more confused now, and a little more suspicious as well, the group murmured amongst themselves. "You must capture your opponent's flag while avoiding various obstacles on the ground."
A few students turned to look behind them, to the empty and windswept sandlot that stretched out to the other side of the grounds. Besides the equipment sheds, areas for practicing balance and acrobatics, and the agility course at the other end, there was nothing new erected in the field.
"Now then," Gaara said, the sound of a knuckle cracking punctuating his words. "Shall we begin?"
From the front of the group, a young man raised his hands, Gaara recognized him as one that had been speaking with Matsuri. "How do you want us split up?" he asked, his eyes only moving quickly across Gaara's face, unable to pause and catch his gaze even for a moment.
Gaara scanned the students, looking at the group as a whole, and then glanced down to himself. "This should be good," he said with a small shrug.
There was hesitation amongst the group, Matsuri had left her position and had grabbed Hada by the arm. Some were confused and looking to Matsuri for cues, others were too nervous to break attention away from their sensei.
With a hand raised at his side, the sand below his feet lifted and swirled up into his awaiting palm, elongating until it hardened to take the shape of a simple spear. The spear took on a metallic sheen, like the packed sand had been polished and reflected the golden evening light. "This is my flag," he stated.
Without further explanation, and with impeccable execution, he hurled the spear over the heads of the students and out into the open field. It landed in the hard earth between the groupings of equipment with a thud that could be heard all the way back at the students. The shaft of the spear shook with the impact but did not dissipate or faulter in any way. The genin turned back to Gaara, Matsuri had already shifted her way to the back of the group with Hada in tow, and a few had been wise enough to follow her.
"I'd like to see if one of you can try and touch it," Gaara challenged. It was amusing to watch how to the realization had dawned across their faces one by one, the moment when they'd put together that they'd be fighting him, all of them would be fighting him. The packed sand turned soft beneath his feet and seemed to churn. "Mind your obstacles on the ground," he advised, effectively the last bit they would receive as he had begun slowly and quietly sinking into the earth.
With that, Matsuri had her back turned to the class, had her friend pulled at her side, and was off running.
"Wait!" one of the genin cried out. "Matsuri! What do we do?"
She turned her face to them but didn't stop running, Hada now keeping pace with her and trusting whatever judgement Matsuri made against her sensei. "Just keep moving!" she shouted, having no time to further speak as a swelling of sand mounded up in front of her. The sudden road bump would have had her tripping over her own feet if it hadn't been for Hada catching her fall and keeping her momentum.
The genin back at formation broke into groups of those hesitant to act knowing that Gaara was lurking…somewhere, and those that quickly decided to follow the girls. For those that hesitated, the sand at their feet began to soften as well, pulling them down ever so slightly and tightening around their feet. With high steps out of the encroaching sand, the remaining students took off into the training grounds, some headed for high ground while others sprinted as fast as they could for the spear standing in the center.
It didn't really matter, Gaara could manage them all, and he figured this the best opportunity to give his sibling's students a little surprise evaluation before reporting their results.
×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×
They must have had a new cook; he was sure of it.
They'd never messed up his food before, and Kankuro just couldn't see Tomo – or Naja for that matter – ruining a dish. Their curry was their way of life, that family enjoyed nothing more than a hearty meal, and the fulfillment they got when feeding the masses gave them purpose. So how could he tell them that they must have let something spoil, or overlooked an expiration date, or let their spices mold, or didn't have the same standard of pest control as they used to?
It could have been any number of things making him second guess the last few bites of his curry.
It wasn't unheard of for meat about to turn to be made into spicy and heavily seasoned dishes to hide any souring of the taste, and on assignments he'd certainly eaten his fair share of questionable cuisines, but he hadn't been expecting the sudden ache in his stomach and the sweat starting to cover his brow.
Oh well, it wouldn't be his first fight with food that didn't agree with him, and he just needed some warm black licorice tea to either soothe him or force him to vacate the lunch in his stomach; there was no in-between.
With the plate left on the coffee table in front of him, he stood from his seat and made way over to the kitchen, noticing too late that his legs must have fallen asleep. He cursed as his right knee gave out under him and he fumbled to the ground, a hand gripping the side of the couch for balance as he tried to stand.
"That's funny," he muttered, his other hand rubbing circles around his knee.
There wasn't any tingling or pins and needles from the lack of blood flow, but it was as if his legs could no longer bare his weight. He pulled himself up, his knees quaking a bit, but he'd managed to find his balance and figured he'd simply been out in the sun for too long. He hadn't expected the extended run through the dunes, and he'd only brought enough water to last him a couple hours.
He walked over to the kitchen, trying to shake the heaviness from his arms, and stretched out his back as he stood in front of the counter. A mug was pulled from the shelf and an electric kettle was bubbling up to temperature within an instant. Kankuro turned to lean against the counter as he waited, rubbing his face and groaning as he did so.
His stomach clenched and he wondered if he'd have been better off just skipping meals for the day. His dinner was quickly disagreeing with him, lunch had been missed due his selfless attempts to be a good brother, and even breakfast had been called off due to the chaos that followed the inn fire that morning. He'd been nauseous after going too long without eating before, but he figured that a full meal would have remedied this, that he would be feeling better after eating again. He took a deep breath, trying to expand his lungs all the way down past his stomach, hoping that stretching his muscles and diaphragm would help with the feeling growing inside his body.
No such luck.
Kankuro turned on the faucet and splashed handfuls of water on his face to clean away the sweat precipitating on his brow and above his lips. He braced himself against the side of the sink, his head hung low and eyes clenched shut as he tried to manage through a sudden surge of nausea.
"Damn," he cursed under his breath.
The muscles in his arms began to shake and it wasn't until he was standing there trying not to vomit that he realized how heavily his heart was beating. It wasn't the familiar ache of being pushed to the limits of work out, or even the adrenaline before facing off with an opponent; this was a deep and heavy thumping, one that resonated in his limbs, and he felt sore within his chest.
The kettle behind him beeped and the sound pierced through his head, causing him to wince. He turned, bracing himself against the counter again, and reached for a pouch of tea. He opened the bag, looked down to the printed text, rubbed his eyes, and looked back down again. The font was blurry, and the brand logo was as well.
"Wait," he said, his grip weakening as he dropped the tea bag on the floor.
He took inventory of his person; stomach pain, weakness, nausea…
"Blurred vision," he mumbled, his brow pinching over his eyes, watching his hands as they trembled in front of him.
The color drained from his face.
"No," Kankuro urged, a mild insistence to his voice as he looked out through the kitchen and into the living room, to the plate that sat on the table.
His labored breathing turned into quick shallow breaths, a heat grew in his throat and his jaw tightened as he hunched over the sink again, open mouthed and salivating into the basin. His stomach clenched, knotting around itself and forcing everything up and out the other end. Vomiting into the sink, his arms and shoulders shook as he held his weight up on the counter, his breathing was sporadic, he quickly began to hyperventilate, and he felt himself become damp all over with sweat.
Though hard to focus, he looked to his side, to the takeout clamshell that still sat on the counter, his attention turning to the G that had been crossed out on the lid and replaced with his K.
Oh, shit.
Kankuro wobbled on weak legs around the counter and made way for his walkie sitting on the kitchen table. "Gotta get…" he huffed as his vision fogged over and his eyes drifted closed for a second.
He snapped them open only to see himself trip over the rug at his feet and stumble to the ground. He'd reached out to try and grab the back of a chair, but it only tipped over him as he fell, falling hard onto his back. He tried to pull himself up from the ground.
"Son of a bitch," he slurred as his muscles shook and defied his commands.
It was no use, his legs felt like jelly and his joints protested the weight of his body as he tried to move. His heart was thumping painfully, each beat an aching siege within his chest, and it was getting harder and harder to keep focus. Reaching up, he was just about able to touch the loop of the cord to his headset but, before he could grab it, another violent contraction of his stomach rocked his body.
Vomiting again, he braced himself up on his elbow and spat the remaining bile in his mouth onto the floor. His body was shaking, his muscles growing weaker by the second, and the light coming into his eyes faded as he struggled to keep them open. Once more he lifted his arm, his trembling fingers able to knock into the cord and catching it just enough to yank it to the floor. Skidding across the tiles, it stopped just out of reach and Kankuro could not find the strength to pull his body along.
His chakra channels were getting muddied, he couldn't form a coherent thread to grab the walkie, couldn't seem to try and focus on calming the erratic rhythm of his heart. He flipped over, lying on his back and trying to get a full breath into his lungs as he gasped, his fist clutching his chest as pain raked through his body, and his muscles beginning to clench and spasm.
Everything began to go dark.
×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×
"You little sneak!" Sakura exclaimed as she sifted through the cloth bag they'd put her souvenirs from the market in. She hadn't noticed the extra bulge to it since it was already carrying her change of clothes, but she'd noticed the distinct color of the dress Temari had secretly purchased and placed inside.
Temari shrugged, a smirk pulling beautifully at her lips. "You'll need more than one, and the color will look great on you," she said surely. She had chosen a dress in a mellow burgundy tone, warm and rich, with metallic gold thread detailing the organic and floral design of the embroidery. It was the same style as the cream dress, with a wider, more scooping neckline and decorative tassels.
"It's gorgeous! I'll have to wear it to your student's graduation when they take their exams," she mused as she admired the detail of the craft.
Snickering, Temari shook her head. "They have a very long way to go before they are ready for the exams, but you'll get an invitation once they've accomplished something worthy of your visit."
"Can I leave them with you for next time I stay?" she asked, the glow of the streetlights and lanterns illuminating their evening walk through the city.
Temari nodded. "I'll keep them perfectly well for you."
Sakura, smiling to herself and humming the tune of a popular dance song she had heard performed in the market, took Temari by the hand and spun herself around, the two of them dancing together as they went. A few children on the street giggled at the two of them and twirled each other around by their example and danced in time with the loosely followed beat. After their pleasant time in the market, the lively music, the delicious snacks they'd indulged in, the woes of the morning inn fire seemed ages away and, at long last, they both felt free from the weight of the disaster.
"I only just got here but I already can't wait for Sunday!" Sakura exclaimed, excitedly anticipating the evening with just the four of them enjoying a nice relaxing soak and more new food with more good music. What else could she have asked for?
Temari smiled, the little dimples in her cheeks showing in the shadows cast across her face, and she felt her heart swell. "Me neither," she said quietly, unable to help but wonder if this is what it was like to live normally, to have friends and go on planned outings, to have leisure time and take vacations away from work.
In times like this, she wondered how differently things would have looked for them if their father was still alive.
She was certain that Gaara would still be ostracized and outcasted, likely isolated from the rest of them as he had been in his childhood for his private lessons and many suicide missions, she knew that all the progress he'd made on his own and that they'd made with him would have been essentially nonexistent. She wasn't even sure if her father would have allowed to her sign up for the open captain position, as it would have taken time away from the A rank missions that he had loved assigning to her and Kankuro. And Kankuro, he'd desperately been trying to turn him into another Gaara; a solo fighter that could operate from the shadows and act as a silent one-man army. He'd pushed him to study forbidden puppetry techniques and Kankuro had only gotten the backbone to put his foot down against their father after he had insisted that he turn their fallen ANBU into his little death toys.
Kankuro had wanted to hurl, father said that if he had asked Gaara to do so he would get obedience, and this only divided Gaara from his brother even more, causing them to feel pit against one another. One of them was a beast and the other was a disappointment, neither wanted to be what the other one was, but they didn't want to be what they already were either. Temari was powerless at the time to mend any fences that their father broke, it was easier to keep them all in check when they didn't trust one another, but she'd worked tirelessly since then to undo the tangled web of suspicion and doubt that had been woven between them.
And what of Sakura? If Rasa had still been Kazekage at the time, and it hadn't been Temari's team doing her runs in that section, who would have found her? What choices would he have made about her care? Would she have been allowed in their home? Would Temari have even known about the incident or been allowed to befriend – no, even speak with her? Likely not, and she shuddered to the think of how she would have continued by sheer necessity to manage the crumbling pieces of their family.
But here she was, almost two years after the death of their father, accomplished and free, with brothers that were becoming independent and happier than ever, and the three of them were still together after all this time. It was a guilty melancholy that she felt; loving her father and missing the few happy memories she had of him when their mom was still alive and she was still so young, but was also conflicted by the years of emotional neglect and abuse that she had seen them all suffer. She hated him for what he had done to her family, for what he had forced her mom to go through, but she was so angry that he had died without giving them any explanation or asking for their forgiveness.
She felt liberated but cheated, not wanting to offer him forgiveness but wanting to see him beg for it. She wanted to finally release all that had gone unspoken and blame him for their fatherless childhood, but all the while she still whished that he had lived so they – at the very least – would have had the chance to try again. It wasn't the proudest she'd been in herself, but she knew that old wounds took time to heal and the scars they left behind weren't always pretty.
Temari held Sakura's hand in her own as they walked, giving her an affectionate squeeze. "We need to see each other as much as we can," she said, letting go of her hand only to grab her arm as if to solidify her proximity at her side.
Sakura leaned into her friend and rested her head on her shoulder, their steps landing awkwardly as they teetered down the street together. "I'll hold you to that."
The rest of their walk home had them chatting away and trying to decide what to fill their day with come the morning.
Suna certainly had its attractions, but there wasn't as numerous of things to entice their attention as there were in Konoha, but Sakura was filled with intrigue at every suggestion. She'd asked about demonstrations of cultural traditions like dances or glass blowing, she'd even heard that their metalworking practices were very showy and often drew in a crowd. It seemed that Sakura was happy enough to just be in the city, be in the desert air again, and to see the wide-open sky and masterful sunsets. It eased Temari into a sense of security knowing that she didn't have to be a perfect host and worry about her guests every need and curiosity.
Effortless and enjoyable had been her friendship with Sakura, and she was ever grateful for the relationship they shared.
Soon the city streets made way for the residential avenues of their neighborhood and Temari paused occasionally to point out an impressive specimen of native flora in a neighbor's garden or bring attention the little lizards and bug life roaming about in the waning light, and they warmly greeted the neighbors that sat out on their stoops, porches, and balconies enjoying the nighttime air. They said hello to their usual city guard stationed on their set of blocks for the weekend and he waved back as he made his rounds through the winding streets, a leisurely stride to his steps as per usual.
"You think Gaara is home?" Sakura asked, the Sabaku home finally coming into view as they rounded the curve in the street but the air feeling somewhat light as if free from the influence of his power.
Temari shook her head. "I told Kankuro to give him our students for the day, so he'll probably get held late up with an extra nineteen kids to manage."
Sakura snickered, the notion far to amusing for Gaara's own good, and thought perhaps it might have been worth stopping by and seeing what he managed for a last-minute lesson. "That's nice of him."
"We'll see what the verdict is, I got a feeling he's going to be testing them a little."
They approached the front yard, gated and with a gravel pathway set with pavers leading to the front door, and welcomed themselves back home after a long day of exploring and enjoying the sights of the city. They brushed their sandals on the door mat and stepped inside.
"Kankuro!" Temari called out as she entered. "We're home!"
They removed their sandals and Temari set their bags down on the living room couch. Sakura patted down her new dress, a little bit of dust flying off it from their walk through the busy market, and she took one of the hair-ties that Temari usually left sitting by the door to give her neck some relief. It had been a while since her hair had been this long, and she hadn't been used to having a sweaty neck for some time, often forgetting to bring a scrunchie or a hairband to training and paying the price for it later.
"Jeeze, what a slob," Temari said as she scanned the array of puppet parts, disembodied wooden limbs, and ball jointed hands and feet left on the table. Next to it was his unfinished plate of food which she was more so surprised to see as he was usually like any other young man; a bottomless pit that went back for seconds and even thirds. The air inside was already beginning to sour from his abandoned food. She turned to yell further into the house. "Hey! Are you gonna clean this–"
"Oh shit!" Sakura shrieked. "Kankuro!"
Temari's heart dropped at the sound of her voice and was at her side with several fast steps, looking down to the floor to where her brother had been found laying on his back, vomit pooled around him, unconscious and unresponsive as Sakura got on her knees. "Kankuro?" Temari said, shock and disbelief clear in the calm manner at which she had called out to him.
Sakura shook him, he didn't respond. She opened his mouth and attempted to see inside; nothing. Pressing his tongue down with two fingers, she couldn't feel any vomit left in his throat, but his gag reflex never kicked in. Her heart began to race, training and instinct taking over within mere seconds, and she pressed her fingers to his pulse points. His heart was still beating but she could tell that something was very wrong.
"Get help," she demanded as she glanced up to Temari. "Get the guard, he needs to get to medical, now!" Her voice took on a different tone with Kankuro unconscious beneath her, her usual bedside manner was thrown to the wayside, and she addressed Temari with an authoritative force that wasn't usually becoming of her more outward amicable nature.
Temari followed her demand without question and she was out the door, through the front gate, and could be heard running barefoot down the street shouting for the guard. "Help!" she called out. "I need a guard! I need help!"
Sakura couldn't waste another moment, cursing their lollygagging and wishing she could take back all the precious minutes they had spent gawking at the sights, she continued with the CPR. With her hands crossed over his bare chest and the heel of her palm pressed firmly into his sternum, she braced her arms and began chest compressions.
1…2…3…4…5…
Kankruo didn't move, his body only jostled at the force of her compressions. He'd been sweating profusely, her palm slipped, she repositioned and continued.
9…10…11…12…13…
"Kankuro?" she called again, speaking louder and clearly even thought her voice wobbled in her throat a little. "Can you hear me?"
16…17…18…19…20…
Where was Temari? The guard had just been walking down the street, how far could he have gone in only a few minutes? She continued the compressions, her eyes scanning her surroundings when not looking for cues on his face. The smell of bile was thick in the air and given the lack of solids in what lay around him, she figured that there had been another instance elsewhere in the house. His arm had been laid at his side, his hand on his chest as if he'd been grasping at his chest, and his walkie had been on the floor near him, but out of reach.
28…29…30
She tilted his chin up, wiped the cracked spit from the sides of his lips, took a deep breath, and blew steadily into his mouth, pinching his nose shut as she did. Once, twice, then she put the back of her hand above his lips and nose.
Nothing.
Returning to her compressions, she began counting again, from one to thirty, and she felt a distinctive crack under her palm at the ninth one. She grimaced, her hands were beginning to shake and her vision blurred as tears welled up in her eyes. She had been taught that CPR could be damaging to the patient's body but was necessary nonetheless; the painful experience was no reason to shy away from administering it. Compressions needed to be thorough, it wasn't as easy to pump blood through the whole body as a properly beating heart would make it seem, and the cracking or breaking of ribs was a common hazard of the first aid.
But to see him so unresponsive to the pain that certainly would have come with that crack she'd heard; it chilled her and panic started to seep in. She had to keep her cool, though, she wouldn't make it anywhere as a doctor, a nurse, or field medic if she panicked in the face of danger. She would not let him go so easily.
Without lifting a hand to wipe her eyes, she let a few stray tears fall onto Kankuro's chest, blinking her eyes to keep the rest at bay. What was going on? What was wrong with him? He'd been perfectly fine up until now, he hadn't complained about any pain or fatigue, he didn't have any history of these symptoms, not that she had ever heard of, and it must have onset quickly enough that he couldn't even make it to his walkie to call for help.
"Dammit," she seethed between clenched teeth. "Come on," she pleaded, coming to the end of another round of compressions.
28…29…30
Turning his face up to her again, she administered two more rescue breaths.
Having practiced CPR as priority number one when starting her medical training, she'd given demonstrations and assisted in them as well. She could remember the mock compressions knocking the wind out of her and how her partners face and lips would clench as they tried not to laugh whenever they began that class.
But Kankuro was like a practice dummy underneath her; limp, no reflexes, and in serious danger.
With another breath of air into his lungs, she began another round of compression.
"Where the hell – Temari!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the house and out the open door. "Temari!"
Sakura looked to the walkie lying on the ground, wondering if whatever channel it was dialed to would be of any help, but couldn't bring herself to stop the compressions. She needed to keep doing this, any falter in her actions and his life could depend on it.
Besides the sounds of her desperate attempts to revive him on the cold tile floor, all was quiet in the house until a bubbling could be heard from over the counter into the kitchen, and a sequence of beeping persisted for a few seconds. Sakura looked to noise, an electric kettle, she was sure of it, and figured he'd been about to make a cup of something to drink. Her lips pressed into a hard line and she fought back another round of tears with a scowl pulling at her face. How long had he laid here on his own? How many times had that kettle beeped for no one to tend it, punctuating the intervals of his rapid decline?
15…16…17…
Crack!
Sakura gasped and nearly pulled her hands away until the voice of her teacher, drilled into her head after all this time, told her to keep going. She choked on a cry in her throat, her hands trembling beyond control now that she'd felt a rib break under her. She wasn't trying to hurt him; she desperately wanted not to hurt him.
"Dammit, Kankuro!" she shouted, her voice breaking. "Wake up! Tell me to stop!"
23…24…25…
She continued as she'd been trained; steady and consistent, do not falter and do not stop. There was a noticeable difference to the resistance of his chest under her hands, however, and she could feel that his ribs no longer held the same strength against her compressions with both a fracture and a break. Should she still be just as firm? Should she lessen her force? They'd been told it was possible to restore function to a patient experiencing certain types of arrhythmia, but that was a highly advanced level skillset that they hadn't even remotely touched on in their studies yet. She had good control, but it would be a shot in the dark with a man's heart in her hands, literally.
To take the chance or stick to what she knew…which was the right call?
Another round of rescue breaths, minutes feeling like hours as she sat alone with him in the house.
"Here!" Temari's voice could be heard shouting from the street outside. "He's in here!"
Footsteps were fast approaching, the sound of gravel crunching beneath feet followed the sound of the gate swinging open and hitting the stone wall bordering the property. Still, Sakura did not stop, not up until the very last moment.
Temari was through the door and at Sakura's side like a whirlwind, leaving the guard to follow closely behind her. "How is he?" she asked franticly, scanning his limp features and expressionless face. Her heart was racing painfully in her chest, adrenaline pumping through her veins, filling her with the need to move, to act.
"Bad," Sakura said. "We can't wait for help to come here; he has to be moved. We need a hospital. Where's the closest one?"
The guard spoke to answer her while Temari grabbed her brother's hand. "Half mile to the southwest, it's on the Northeast main."
Temari looked to the guard and he nodded, abruptly moving the table to kneel next to Kankuro on the other side. "Whenever you're ready," she told Sakura, watching wide eyed and prepared to pop like a loaded spring as Sakura continued the CPR.
"Give me a second," she said, her voice strained in her throat.
18…19…20.
"That'll have to be good." She put an arm under him and the guard steadied his shoulders as they eased him up. His head lolled back and his arms hung limply to the floor. He was like a rag doll, like one of his puppets that had no strings and no master.
Temari felt something snap inside of her, releasing a sense of urgency that she felt no one else could quell but herself. "Give him to me," she demanded. "I know the route; I know the short cuts. Let me have him."
Sakura, knowing the extent of her help had been exhausted, helped Temari and the guard each under an arm and followed behind them as they quickly stepped out of the house. "We need to be quick," she said, taking the opportunity of her free hands to wipe her eyes as her voice wavered in her throat again.
"Everyone, move!" Temari shouted into the street, her frantic run through the neighborhood calling for the guard had gathered everyone's attention. "Sakura," Temari called back, her face tense and her eyes glossy. "I tried calling for Gaara but I can't get through, go to the training grounds and get him." They were moving quickly down the road, the turn onto a main avenue that led toward the center of town was fast approaching, and all those major roads led to a hospital or clinic at some point.
She nodded, trusting Temari's decision. "Where?"
"Turn right up here at 64th west and follow it, then get on North Gate Road. North training grounds! You'll see signs for it!"
Her road was coming up, another guard fell into pace with them and soon began clearing the way through the crowded streets. They picked up speed and Sakura broke off from the group, the sand covered stone paths and hardpacked dirt were unforgiving against her bare feet as she ran. She called out to groups mingling in the street in front of her, yelling to move and to make way.
Sakura kept replaying the scene in her head as she sprinted down the street, her chakra pumping continuous energy into her muscles, committing every detail she could to memory.
He had left food on the plate and the kettle running, he'd collapsed suddenly, thrown up at least twice, perhaps tried to call for help as well. How long had he been like that? No way to know. How had she acted? Nearly four rounds of chest compressions, three rounds of rescue breaths, a break, a fracture, and no luck. Had she done enough to get him through? Would that last breath she gave him be enough? Maybe she should have finished the full thirty on his chest, but with Temari and the guard ready to go, it seemed like a waste of time, but maybe it wouldn't have been? How long had she been running, could they have made it to the half mile to the hospital already?
North Gate Road was just up ahead, she skidded around the corner and her speed nearly sent her careening into an outdoor café table. She knocked up against it, the people sat there shouting in surprise and grabbing their drinks as the table violently shook. Sakura was off again as soon as she'd fallen upon them, leaving all those in her wake startled and confused. A street game lay across the road up ahead and like a track runner clearing a hurdle she jumped over the obstacle, her dress flying up behind her as she landed on the other side and kept running. Some kids laughed and cheered as she ran but their voices quickly faded behind her.
The lanterns and cabled lights that were strung overhead threw her swift shadow about haphazardly as she darted down the road. The people looked around to see the source of the commotion, and some shouted admonishments for her lack of decorum, but Sakura didn't stop, she could tell for sure she was on the right path now.
She began to feel it more clearly, and though he truly did permeate the entirety of the hidden city after all this time, she could still feel that unmistakable pull towards the center of it all, towards him.
Up ahead of her, a sign for the training ground passed her by; ¾ mile, she was close.
Her feet ached and she winced as she landed hard on a sharp rock, her feet were likely to blister and possibly bleed after running across the sand swept earth. In the forest, the soft dirt, leaf cushion, and ground cover had spoiled her bare feet into a softness that was under attack on this rock path covered in coarse grains. It didn't matter, it wasn't important.
A sign reading NORTH TRNGND, among other things, hung above the road with an arrow directing her to the east. It checked out, Gaara was that way, as soon as she'd turned and made it just a few blocks she could feel the weight in the air grow heavier and heavier. Her heart was racing, her mind was reeling, she needed to be faster.
More chakra, heavier steps, the feeling of her heel falling hard on another sharp rock, and she was sure she'd now cut her foot. She kept running. Her chest heaved, her lungs burned, she'd been running around all day and she began to cramp in her side, her chakra giving her strength but not quelling her pain.
An opening appeared between the buildings ahead, the people gathered in the street continued to dwindle the further they got from the market, and faintly, off in the distance, she could have sworn she heard the distinct shouting and commotion of a large training session. Just a little farther.
Sakura rounded the corner into the training grounds, the fields opening up in front of her.
The genin were stood randomly around the fields; stuck in place and unmoving, only noticing upon closer proximity that they had been wrapped in sand or subdued by Gaara's clones. And Gaara; he stood among them, his posture tense and his eyes hard as he watched Sakura approach.
She could have cried out in relief to see him standing there as if he'd been expecting her, but she couldn't spare the breath for it as she ran, only able to call out to him as he began to step towards her.
"Gaara!" she gasped, her voice hoarse and breathless, her hands reaching for him, trembling.
He was upon her in an instant. "What is it?" he demanded, his attention falling solely on her, the sand constraining the students melting away. Without thinking he reached for her as she braced herself against him, grasping the shaking hand at his shoulder and touching her face.
She took only a second to stand there, her muscles burning, her lungs on fire, before she was moving again. Sakura gripped his hand and pulled him forward, pulling at the straps of his field gear as well. "We have to go," she insisted. "Come on!"
She was frantic and he didn't understand. "What's going on?" he asked again, raising his voice to try and get her attention. "Tell me what happened."
Sakura looked up at him with such a wild tension to her face, a determined fury in her eyes, it reminded him of that time he'd attacked her all those years ago. "She tried to reach you!" She shouted. "Something is wrong with Kankuro, he's in a bad way. Temari's with him at the hospital we have to go n–ah!"
Yelping in surprise as Gaara moved closer, she grasped his shoulders and tightly gripped the fabric of his clothes. It felt as though he had practically stepped right through her as his arm circled her waist and pulled her tight, the sand erupting around them in a sudden and powerful blast. She'd been sent off into pieces faster and more forcefully than ever before and it was like getting hit square on by a runaway wagon and being thrown into the raging torrent of a mountain river; breathless, disoriented, at the mercy of the current.
With the last of the sand slithering like a ghostly serpent along the ground, Gaara disappeared and the genin were left in the wake of what they'd just seen. The spear in the middle of the grounds, once hardened to a sheen and glowing golden in the evening light, began to fall and the sand trickled to the ground before it slumped into a dull, structureless pile.
All went quiet on the field.
×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×