To start this installment off, I had a lot of fun writing the training fight between Gaara and the students. Our girl Matsuri deserves a chance to shine, and I found the method of attack that Gaara employs here to be entirely too reminiscent and entertaining. Some of you may find the circumstance of the training sessions familiar if you're the monster-comedy-horror genre loving type like myself.
Anyone ever obsess over Tremors as a kid like I did (Still do)? They say there's nothing new under the sun. But under the ground…
For me, fictional bois go Gaara Sabaku #1, Burt Gummer #2. No contest. "If it comes to starvation, I know what I'm doing. Take one of these, walk right out there with the fuse lit, and let 'em take me down. Boom." "Good Lord, hunny."
Follow the Sun: Excerpts of Time
Installment 4 (7)
×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×
They would never make fun of her again.
Ever.
Matsuri had been so timid and shy amongst the new recruits when she'd entered the academy that making friends didn't come naturally to her. She'd been alone in class most of the time and didn't even have a place to go home to at the end of the day. With her parents gone and her surviving grandparents unfit to care for her young self, she had been enrolled into the genin program; it was the best way to meet the needs of herself and the other wayward youths of the city as well as keep them out of trouble. She was quiet, didn't impose herself on others, and never stood up to anyone either; an easy target, whether for innocent jokes or full-on bullying, and it had become commonplace to have the expectation of mediocrity from her.
But no more.
Her fellow students were struck dumb and wide-eyed with wonder to see how she had learned to artfully maneuver around her sensei's attacks. She was quick on her feet, nimble now more so than ever, and her ability to take action against her sensei at a moment's notice had far surpassed that of her peers. Before, she had been a nobody, a dismissal, but now; she was their lifeline.
"Bato! Your six!"
Quickly taking heed and thrusting himself from the gymnastic equipment and back up to the rooftop of the nearest building, he barely avoided the arm of sand that had been quietly reaching for him. Bato gasped a breath before frantically searching the grounds for Matsuri. How did she see the attack coming? It had been so silent as it went for his blind spot, and she hadn't even been its intended target. Did she have eyes on the back of her head?
But Matsuri was already on to the next genin about to go under, pulling the back of their collar and narrowly avoiding a tendril of sand seeking to pull him under. She pulled him along until he had momentum under his feet again before breaking off to join another student about to go down.
It was chaos.
She'd done this exercise plenty with just Gaara and herself, he'd sprung it on her early in their training together and wouldn't hear a word of her unqualified protests. Her first few attempts where miserable to say the least, it was only through Gaara's mercy that she lasted longer than thirty seconds her first round, but she'd begun seeing the patterns of attack that Gaara was trying to teach her, started to notice the way her body reacted when the force of his strike was imminent. He'd said that her instincts were not to be ignored, and that learning to speak with her body and understand its language would give her an edge over less-adept opponents in the future.
So, she listened; to him, to herself, to the feeling of her heart racing in her chest and the adrenaline that responded to his actions, to the unspoken dread of a choice wrongly made or the sudden confidence of a victory – no matter how small. She'd stolen his meditation practices as well, the oneness she felt with her body growing more and more each time she put it to the test. Even the hairs on her neck and her arms stood on end when an attack was coming for her and, though not yet fluid in this new language, she was learning to interpret these signs with accuracy.
She'd practiced this game with him too many to count, but how many times had she managed to even get close to that spear? Once, and she vowed that today it would be hers.
With quick movement, she gave silent hand signals to some of Temari's team, she was more so acquainted with them, and flagged down a puppeteer while she figured Gaara would be distracted with the other students trying to avoid the mounds chasing them across the sand or scale the buildings lining the field in a desperate attempt to get off the ground.
Hada and her teammates Ami and Bato were at her side at once, quickly followed by the puppeteer Kuso. They kept pace with her as she ran, light footed as could be across the dangerous grounds, and made way for the safety of a storage shed. She signaled them inside and the sounds of panicked genin running for their hides was suddenly muffled behind the closed door. They continued to move silently.
"I have a plan," Matsuri began with a hushed breath between them.
Bato was at her shoulder, his words delivered sharply from his tongue. "How have you managed, Matsuri?" he asked, his hand coming up to squeeze her arm. She slowed and turned to him. "Any one of these attacks could kill us!"
Matsuri hissed at him under her breath as the floorboards beneath them swelled up, they could hear the creaking as the ground slowly churned below, methodically, as if looking for them. They all froze as the shelves that stood around them shook and quaked, bottles and bins of weapons rattling all throughout the shed. But the sand moved on, the floor sunk back down, and they were left undisturbed.
Matsuri removed her arm from Bato's grip. "Don't be foolish," she said, her gaze hardening and her voice holding a bite to it that Bato hadn't heard from her in the past. "If he wanted you dead; you would be." She was moving again, heading toward the back to where a window would allow them to slip out hopefully unnoticed, if they could just keep their feet off the ground. She wanted a higher vantage point but didn't want to be seen getting there.
"What is he doing?" Hada asked, each creak of the building and groan under the floors had her shivering with fright. It was so eerie, the way the storage shed moaned under the stresses of the shifting ground, how the floorboards creaked not from their footsteps, but from a force unseen.
"Lots of things," she said shortly. "But he's best at them one at a time."
Kuso spoke up while keeping his voice low. "That means?"
"He's using his Sand Teleportation jutsu; he's somewhere underground without his body." Hada and Ami blinked in mild confusion but let her continue. "It gives him heightened awareness of the battlefield, enemy movements, and a broader scope of influence on the ground. But, since he can't see above ground, it's not as easy to manage aerial attacks and it can't be maintained indefinitely."
"What else?" Kuso asked urgently. She could already see the gears turning behind his eyes, he was such a methodical man, always sorting and storing new information, like an archive in his mind.
"Desert Hand and Sand Shuriken," Matsuri said surely, giving them all a cautious glace over her shoulder. "Watch out for those. They're generic, but dangerous."
Hada thought for a moment but shook her head. They approached the back windows and Matsuri quietly slid one open, trying not to rattle it and make unnecessary vibrations. "But how is he picking people off the equipment and attacking us on the buildings? They're not on the ground at all."
Matsuri bit her lip. She didn't know. Gaara had many tricks and he often didn't show what wasn't necessary since he thought it best to keep his cards hidden. He had to be doing something that could give him sight above ground, but had she seen it before? She'd been left alone in training plenty of times in the past and even in his absence she had always felt watched, innately knowing that whether from the ground, the sky, or the shadows, his eyes were still on her.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But we have to anticipate that he'll see us wherever we are."
They looked to each other and nodded. Bato stepped forward. "What's your plan?"
The ground surged under the floorboards of the storage shed, the shelves and wall mounted equipment shook and rattled, and a few students ran by the back window as a mound of sand burst forth from beneath the building in pursuit. Matsuri and her group held a breath for a moment, listening for any other signs of life beneath their feet. They heard nothing, but they had not been looking for the way that the dusty and unswept corners of the building began to quietly gather sand.
Off the bare earth even as they were, there was still sand beneath their feet.
Matsuri sighed quietly and continued. "The sand can be incredibly dangerous," she warned, those watching her visibly swallowed. "But he won't want to hurt us. If he's not operating at full power, we should be able to free ourselves from his attacks if we get caught." She looked to Bato. "That's where you come in."
He balked. "Me?"
"Physically, you're the strongest and have the greatest odds of overpowering the sand if he's restraining himself." Bato looked to be about to retort but she moved on before he could. "Hada and I are proficient in generating shadow clones and replacement techniques, we will use a combination of this to get close to the spear. You'll have to cover us and keep up," she said, her disposition and the gleam of authority in her eyes causing Bato a moment of pause. Just when had she become so sure of herself?
"Ami, you'll have to provide long distance cover for us," she said turning to the wind user stood with them.
Ami was a little older and had struggled finding the right offensive style for her in the academy and it was only after she joined Temari's squad that she was shown her solution. Still a work in progress, more so a passion project than anything, Temari had been attempting to convert her giant iron fan into a more manageable and less suspicious size that carried the same chakra channeling capabilities. The hand fans that she had given Ami to test out for her had been an instant success and Ami was quickly accelerating passed her peers.
Ami gripped the fan folded in her hands, the sweat on her palms threatening to let it slip. "Count on it."
"What about me?" Kuso said, stepping forward as if to volunteer himself.
Matsuri nodded to him and continued. "Our success will depend on you, Kuso. The three of us won't be able to gain enough ground out in the open to actually grab the spear, but if we create a distraction, you might be able to tether it from a distance. That should count."
"He'll be looking for me," Kosu countered.
Matsuri nodded. "I'm afraid you'll just have to leave Pyrus behind," she said, her eyes glancing to canvas covered puppet kept strapped to his back.
Kuso opened his mouth to speak but paused, the intent sinking in and his understanding settling across his face. "It's a shame that he got damaged after that last barrage," he mused.
Grinning, Matsuri knew that she had chosen the right person for the task. "We'll cover you if you want to…mend him."
"That should do just fine," he agreed, settling on his plan and deciding on what type of opening he would need to initiate his deception.
Bato looked between them, feeling as though they had simply communicated with a look and nothing more. "What are you talking ab–"
The screeching of sand slicing through the air cut him off as Hada pulled him back with such force that he'd lost his balance and fallen back on her. The sand, like a writhing serpent that had sprung to strike, recoiled as its target was pulled away, looking as though it turned to face them before launching again. Hada dashed out of the way but, this time, Bato was ready. To his side, there was a pile of overturned iron rods used in staff practice and he took one, whipping it around and slamming it into the oncoming sand in a blur. The bar reverberated in his hands, the ringing of the metal tempting him to drop the rod, but he held strong. Twisting up and around the bar, the sand closed the gap between them before he acted again; another rod in his hands, smacking the first as he dropped it, and the vibration seemed to shock the sand into falling to the ground.
Bato stared, wide eyed and full of adrenaline. I did it…
The windowsill rattling grabbed his attention and he had looked up just quick enough to see Ami and Kuso slip out the window with Matsuri holding it open for them.
"Out and up!" she urged with a hiss as to not alert any ears listening in. She ushered herself and Hada through before the sand could revive itself and Bato was just able to see the sudden puff of steam as the girls scampered up the side of the building with their shadow clones hot on their heels.
"Oh jeeze –!" he leapt from the window, turned on a dime, and slammed it shut only to have the sand rise from the ground and launch at him, cracking the glass before retreating. He cared not to see where it went and climbed after the girls. "Wait up!"
…
Battle always sounded different beneath the ground.
What was usually the strained creaking and deep groans of the earth, speaking testament to the mountainous shifting dunes and moaning winds, now sounded in a sporadic cacophony of hard footsteps, muffled shouts and grunts, and the distant twang of metal on metal. Like a directionless stampeded overhead, it had been made clear that the spear in the field was no longer their priority and the genin did their best just to hold their own against their adversary. To anyone else, managing twenty combatants without lifting a finger would be impossible, but not to Gaara.
He lay in wait beneath the surface, having sunk low into the land, listening for all the secrets that it would tell him, the actions that it would show him; here he was in complete control. With no form or body to speak of, he was at one with each and every grain that he traveled through, the consciousness of his mind the only thing that carried any hint of him. But on the surface, he looked to be everywhere. The sand at his command was relentless in its pursuit of the students, never stopping or faltering, only lagging just enough to get an idea of their skills of avoidance and defense.
Though it may not have seemed so, he was avoiding attacking them outright, unless they truly did need a fire lit under their feet, and he hovered his attacks uncomfortably close and did not relent until they broke their retreat to strike. They needed to feel the urgency of a true battle and get their adrenaline pumping, how else would he determine how they managed under pressure?
Perhaps he should have given them more direction, his sister was likely to say so, but that wouldn't tell him how their decisions were made, or how they ordered the priority of the objective or the team, or how they took initiative to problem solve and act as a group. He had put them as a group after all.
His third eye, always a flicker of a thought away from materializing, had hovered above the chaotic field, giving him a bird's eye view to their student's disarray. Like little bunnies scattered by the hunt, they ran about this way and that; some had learned to avoid him after nearly being pulled under, others had taken up the role of support and were trying to fend off his attacks for the stronger of them to make ground towards the spear, and some had to be pulled from their hiding places and…encouraged to join in the assessment.
Gaara smiled from his ethereal perch within the land, the energized disorder of the group was nothing like the training he and his siblings had gotten as children. Even in the panic written clear across their faces, in the way a few of them clearly tried to disassociate from their situation, he could tell this was nothing like the way his past combatants had pled for mercy and here there would be no blood spilled. They weren't terrible, and he could certainly see the influence of his siblings over their respective students, but even still there was no way they could grab the spear at this rate. It may take another few months before they were ready for his game again.
But what was this?
The sand eye turned its gaze to the storage shed, to where several genin could be seen emerging from behind the building…on the roof. Among them was his student; two of her in fact.
Hm. He thought to himself, now taking note of the duplicates that were shared between them all.
Truthfully, he'd sensed them seeking shelter in the storage shed and could have chased after them outright, but he didn't want to douse their instincts of finding more neutral ground. He let them have a few moments to do…whatever, and then pressed them forth once again. He'd expected them to skitter across the ground, perhaps try and flee like the last group to head that way had done, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that they continued to try and gain whatever advantage they thought available to them. It had been amusing to see more people emerge from the building than had entered, and they seemed more organized now so he again gave them a moment, curious to see what they might manage.
Another group of genin had convened and had seemed set on bolstering each other to rush for the spear. He turned his attention to them, wondering what might happen if he allowed his student some privacy to direct her peers.
…
"How's it looking?" Kosu asked as he laid Pyrus down on the roof. There was a bit of a ledge that they could conceal themselves behind and they were huddled there, peering over and watching as the students below tried and failed to rush or attack the sand.
Hada answered him. "Disorganized, he's got them running in circles."
"I just need a minute."
Matsuri sucked her teeth in thought as she watched the discord below her. "You'll have less," she cautioned, her eyes following every movement she could discern on the ground.
Bato and Hada watched as Kuso unwrapped Pyrus and the puppet rattled quietly as it settled outside of its bondage. Hunched over, with his cloak hanging to cover most of what he did, Kuso began to make methodical hand signs and began channeling his chakra.
"Pyrus looks fine," Bato said, trying to discern what Kuso and Matsuri had been planning together.
Kuso didn't respond but continued his preparations, it shouldn't take long, and he was almost ready.
"I don't get it," Bato said in frustration. "What are you–"
"He's coming," Matsuri spoke sharply, her gaze still directed forward at the field.
The two girls and Bato followed her line of sight but could see nothing different about the scene playing out below them. They shared a hesitant look before Ami sought clarification. "What are you seeing?" she asked, her eyes traveling fast along the ground, looking for any signs of attack.
"I'm not," she said, never turning her face. "Don't look, but he's coming from behind."
Kuso nearly snapped his head up to look but willed his hands to remain busy. He'd finished his hand signs, gathered his chakra, and was just waiting on Matsuri's signal. His heart began racing, his arms and legs felt like they were buzzing with life and with energy. What had she seen to give the attack away?
Matsuri gripped the side of the ledge, her clone doing the same, and she hunkered down low like a snack readying the strike. "You'll need to be quick, Kuso, and don't be obvious," she said, earning her a smirk from the puppet wielder, he too finding himself wondering just how much she had changed over the last few months. "On my mark."
…
Her feet ached and she winced as she landed hard on another sharp rock, her feet were likely to blister and possibly bleed after running across the sand swept earth. 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, and she could feel the weight in the air grow heavier.
Her heart was racing, her mind was reeling, she needed to be faster.
…
He'd given them enough time and moved in, his desert hand rising over the roof behind them, silent and slow. He'd seen them making a fuss over the puppet that Kankuro's student had put down and wasn't about to let them idle with broken equipment. With his attack incoming, he could have cheered for her as Matsuri sounded the signal of his approach and, like flies avoiding the swatter, they leapt away and scattered. Only the puppet lay abandoned beneath Kuso's cloak.
Gaara pursued them closely, finding more direction to their movements and more thought behind their strikes against him, he could tell that they had organized themselves and they each had clear roles to fulfill.
Matsuri had shown aptitude in basic jutsus and he had encouraged her to hone that skill and be creative with its uses, much like a certain blond acquaintance of his had demonstrated in his previous battles. Though this wasn't the most creative use of shadow clones he'd ever seen, he couldn't deny that both she and Hada were much more adept than in the past. Matsuri had been able to split her chakra so evenly that they presented as one and the same, so he couldn't say for certain if his blows would inflict damage or simply trim the fat from the battlefield.
So, he pulled his punches, and this was exactly what had given Bato his edge.
Gaara had noticed with mild surprise that he hadn't been unable to maintain structure to the sand he'd used in the storage shed due to the vibrations of the ringing metal pole. He'd never encountered that before and wasn't prepared to sustain focus on the sand as resonance reduced it to a puddle on the floor. Given how he had felt that Bato took a second to move, he seemed to be just as surprised. But the strength that had sent his sand falling was also the tool that the girls were using to evade any true capture. Bato didn't go on the offensive, even though his brute strength might have tempted him to the front lines, and instead he held up the rear; countering attacks directed at them, avoiding those directed at himself, and he had proved not only strong, but fast, too.
Then there was Ami; she'd fled from the group as soon as they'd landed and quickly drew her small fan and sent a powerful gust of wind at his oncoming attack. The desert hand broke wind resistance by separating into sand shuriken but even those were sent circling back the direction they came. Temari's prototype was turning out just fine, he mused as he embraced the torrent of wind screeching harshly against his will over the sand, and her student could wield the smaller size like a natural.
But Kosu, however, was found out.
It hadn't taken Gaara long to discover that the Kosu he followed vehemently on the ground was not the real thing. Had he seen the switch when it happened? Truthfully, no. But could he sense the threads crisscrossing the free-floating grains in the air, feel the hallow steps against the ground, and sense the rattles that were only just muffled? Of course, he was Kankuro's brother after all, and he and Temari had learned very well how to discern between puppet and master.
It appeared that their scheme had been undone.
If he could be seen he would be grinning widely like in his youth, though now for entirely different reasons. They'd grown, they'd improved, and he was – actually – impressed.
The group was collectively reaching their limit and he would need to call it off before they were too exhausted and spent to enjoy their Friday evening, they had certainly earned it.
But, just as Gaara was going to begin herding the students back together, the hard thumps of distant feet falling on the ground caught his attention.
Odd.
Who had managed to get so far from him without being detected? He'd had them running in circles overhead and hadn't felt anyone cross the boundary of the field lines, but someone certainly had, and they were still running, but running toward the fields. Gaara sent his focus outward, the sand near the students beginning to lag even more though they didn't take the opportunity to question it, and he peered through the land to see who had escaped him.
…
His brow was still slick with sweat, his heart was beating furiously in his chest, and he could feel his tunic grow damp under the rough cloak thrown over him. The Desert Hand that had swung down on them from behind the building had been so close that if Matsuri hadn't given the signal at just the right moment, he was sure they all would have been launched from the roof and left to fend for themselves.
Kuso chuckled quietly to himself as he reminisced on Matsuri's impressive progress; next time they all met up for dinner, she wasn't going to spend a dime on herself.
Ami however, she owed him big time after sending those sand shuriken right back at him like a windstorm of needles and knives. He could have managed without that blow from her, but he surmised that she was still trying to get a handle on how much chakra she let loose in those attacks.
Kuso, from his spot hidden behind the ledge of the building's roof, artfully maneuvered Pyrus as the puppet danced around the sand attacks and diverted attention away from the girls and Bato. He lay under the cloak of his puppet, having made the switch in the moment that Gaara's attack had come for them, only managing to pull it off because they'd duplicated themselves enough to confuse the number of actual targets. He had been able to get the puppet close a few times, but that wasn't the objective, it was only the distraction. Every time that the sand had attacked the puppet and he withdrew from the blow, it left a sliver of an opening to slip passed the sand defenses and get in close to the prize. He just needed the right moment, the right opportunity, and he would strike.
Another attempt, another attack, another dodge.
As the puppet flew back, looking like a flesh and blood rendition of himself fighting against the sand, he slid his gaze to Hada and Matsuri. They'd gained more ground, the sand was falling behind, Matsuri appeared confused by this for a moment. Her eyes followed the sand as it lagged, and then all at once they looked firmly up at him.
Now, he thought, While its distracted!
…
More chakra, heavier steps, the feeling of her heels 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.
Just a little farther
…
With the sensation so fresh in his mind, he had felt at once as the wetness of her blood soaked into his perception, the warmth of her body as it broke through the cold ground, and the taste; delicate and delicious, enticing the desires of that damnable demon.
Sakura?
…
He'd been so close.
Another second, maybe two, and he would have connected his chakra tether, a direct line from himself to their opponent's flag, and the sweet taste of victory would have been theirs.
Victory, however, was an elusive mistress in this game.
Within a moment, Kuso had watched as sand shot from the ground and everyone – all of them – had been grabbed. Those on the ground found themselves immediately confronted by sand clones, unable to do anything to stop from being tackled and subdued. Those climbing on the equipment had been dragged from their perch and detained within the sand, hands and feet sunken into the earth and hardened there. The rest of them on the buildings, like himself, had a bird's eye view to the scene before them; sixteen students simultaneously tackled and taken down, screaming and crying out, writhing against their constraints and helpless to break free.
He was no different.
The sand had thrust from the ground, a pillar of raw power rising in front of him before it circled down and grabbed hold. No hesitation, no mistakes, it grabbed him square around his torso and yanked him up as if the sand itself could see him, and it sucked him down so fast that he hadn't even been able to breathe. The force of it broke his focus on his chakra strings and in the distance Pyrus could be seen falling limply on the ground. Kosu's landing wasn't as hard as the initial grab had made him assume, and he had been able to brace for the impact just enough to manage a glimpse as Gaara emerged atop the battlefield once again.
His posture looked foreign on his person; his back hunched, materializing without his gourd, his shoulders rigid, his expression taut and eyes hard as he stared straight ahead, not sparing any one of them so much as a sideways glance. The sand rained down from his body, pouring off his shoulders and pooling at his feet with a ghostly hiss. He stood there tensed and ready for action and gave no commands as the sand held everyone locked in place. It simply knew his will and allowed his focus to be elsewhere.
But what had caused him to suddenly take such absolute control over everyone like this? Kuso could see no reason to the game when this was the capability of their opponent, when their best couldn't hold a candle to his worst, and he tried his best against the hold of the sand to look for what had triggered this.
…
He hadn't meant to scare anyone, but upon feeling her blood on his sand again he couldn't afford to spare any more of his focus on their game.
Gaara had barely finished his thought before the sand was acting on his will and sprung out of the ground in all different directions to ensnare and capture the genin flitting about the fields. They had all screamed and shouted, surprised and given quite the fright, and he'd risen from the ground amidst the lot of them, struggling and frantic against the sand that restrained them. He'd materialized and watched the direction he had felt her from, even now he could feel the moist footprint left by her bleeding foot as she ran.
His chest clenched around his heart. She was alone, something was wrong.
Sakura rounded the corner into the training fields and, if he hadn't been tracking every step of her approach, he would have looked twice to recognize her.
Her hair was pulled up and flying behind her, the pink locks around her face in a splendid disarray. Cream draping of a new dress flapped in the wind with each stride, like the clumsy first flights of a bird's wing. Her skin, the pale ivory of her legs, bare; right down to her feet.
"Gaara!"
His own feet were moving before he could think to answer. She had closed the ground between them in seconds, her body shaking as she collapsed against him. He braced her, taking her hand in his, and looked her over as his attention fell solely on her. "What is it?" he asked, his eyes scanning her features, his sand falling away behind them as the students began to pull themselves from the ground. He touched her face; her brow was pulled together over her eyes held tightly shut, her lips parted as she caught her breath, her skin was flush with exertion.
The hand at his shoulder gripped the straps to his gourd and pulled, jolting him forward. "We have to go," she insisted. "Come on!"
"What's going on?" he asked, his voice rising with his worry. What was happening? He looked to the field behind her, there was no one else coming. Where was his sister? "Tell me what happened."
Her eyes found him, all fire and fury, and his breath caught in his throat. "She tried to reach you!" she shouted.
Who did? Gaara's fingers pressed the walkie receiver at his throat. Dead…
"Something is wrong with Kankruo–"
No, I just saw–
"He's in a bad way."
Gaara felt his blood run cold. How?
"Temari is with him at the hospital we have to go n–ah!"
He reacted that instant, stepping forward and pulling her into him as he willed them toward the hospital as fast as he could. Sakura had gasped, her hands grabbing his shoulders in a desperate attempt to hold on, but his arm had already circled her waist and he held her against him with an urgency he hadn't put forth on her before. They had fallen away and flew off into the wind, leaving the sand-swept lot of the fields behind as the genin were finally freed from his influence over the sand.
Sakura had been shocked at the power he could display behind this ability, and she had quickly lost sense of herself within the torrent of ethereal wind and hypnotic sand. But even though she had lost sense of him, Gaara was there, and he hadn't let an inch of proverbial space pass between them. A feeling of panic had gripped him, his drive evident in how the sand flew underfoot through the street, and he found it difficult to repeat Sakura's words in his head.
Bad way? How? He'd just seen him, he was fine!
The hospital was close, he was closing in fast, and when he broke the threshold of the front lobby the doors blew back and the glass cracked at the corners, the force of the wind rattling the window panes and causing the visitors to shriek and cover their eyes from the flurry of sand. The sand gathered and swirled, appearing violent and he emerged from within the twister with his face pulled into a hard scowl. Chairs scraped against the ground and could be heard toppling over as the visitors and receptionist gave him a wide berth.
There was one unperturbed by this entrance, however, and she could be seen running up to them in clear relief.
"Gaara!" Temari cried as she threw her arms around his neck, she was shaking. Sakura slipped from his side and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Thank god, it happened so fast," she said, sucking in desperate breaths. "We just came home and –"
He put firm hands on her shoulders and hushed her. "Quiet Temari," he urged. "Breathe for a second." Temari squeezed her eyes shut and a tear leaked from between her lashes. She faced the floor and took a few steadying breaths, her shoulders rising and falling with her chest. When she had taken a moment to gather herself, he continued. "All right, tell me what happened."
"When we left the market," she explained, her throat constricting tightly around her voice and he could tell that she'd been distraught. "Kankuro, he – he was unconscious. Sakura told me to get help and we got him here as fast as we could."
Gaara's heart was racing and his palms were beginning to sweat. Where was his brother?
Sakura spoke up from Temari's side. "What have they done for him so far, do you know?"
Temari looked behind them for a moment before turning back to Sakura and Gaara, gesturing to a nurse stood with a few of the scouting squad. She was watching them, her expression somewhat guarded, and was clutching a clipboard to her chest. "I was just talking with the nurse, come here!"
Together with the few members of the scouting squad that had been huddled around Temari, they watched intently as Sakura and the nurse went over the current situation.
"What's been done so far?" Sakura pulled her hair from her ponytail and combed out some of the sweaty snarls with her fingers, her eyes never leaving the nurses face as she spoke, and then proceeded to re-tie it in a more neatly tucked bun.
"We had a crash cart brought out when he arrived and were able to stabilize him for now," the nurse explained, this visibly relieved Sakura to hear.
"Was there any sign of injury to his body at all?"
"We stripped him for a body analysis; no fresh scrapes, nicks, or cuts anywhere on his body," she said. "Just a bruise starting on his chest. The CPR?" The nurse had asked Sakura directly; the quiet gasp told her who's hand had done it.
"I think I broke his rib," Sakura breathed, tears welling up in her eyes once again. Temari whipped around to stare in shock at her friend. Her eyes said it all; she was mortified.
"What?" Temari gasped, a hand coming to grab Sakura's shoulder. Gaara tried to steady her hand but she didn't pay him any attention. "And he still did nothing?"
Sakura turned to her and pulled her close. "I'm sorry," she said, her eyes flickering to Gaara for a moment as well. "I didn't mean to." Temari hugged her tightly, able to feel the anguish that had come to Sakura from hurting one of her friends.
"How extensive was the CPR?" the nurse asked.
Sakura swallowed hard and answered quickly. "Four rounds of chest compressions and three rounds of rescue breaths."
The nurse sucked her teeth and nodded as she continued. "We've got him on a saline drip, he's very dehydrated, and he's receiving a general medicinal IV for now as well." She looked down to the clipboard in her hands and flipped to the second page. "The doctor had him sedated and we'll be keeping him under for the time being since he's on an oxygen hook up and we're breathing for him at the moment. We sent the lab some blood for analysis first thing and had them expedite it, hopefully we'll get the answers soon, but –"
"What happened to him," Gaara demanded suddenly, growing tired of this back and forth. He saw no progress being made and heard no questions being answered.
The nurse looked up to him at the sound of his bark. "We don't know yet," she said flatly. "But we're working on it. We've sent word to the poison specialists given the severity of his condition. You'll be informed as the situation changes."
Gaara glared at the woman, finding nothing she had yet said able to quell the pit of anxiety growing within him. She simply stared back, having handled too many that had been much rowdier than him in her day, before excusing herself to resume her work. She walked off and Gaara followed with his gaze as she entered a room down the hall; it was buzzing with commotion and shadows darted back and forth in front of the glass. A chorus of beeping and pinging could be heard, muffled commands given firmly and followed dutifully, feet pattering about the tile floors.
He clenched his fists at his side, his mind erupting with questions and suspicion. What could be the cause of this? Why Kankuro? How had he been attacked? "Where did this happen?" he found himself saying as the girls turned to him.
Temari answered him. "We found him at home."
Gaara thought about how he hadn't felt any signal of intrusion from the house, only familiar feet ever tread there, could he have missed someone? He also thought of how his brother and all that was around him had been so mundane and unsuspecting. Who had done this? "Has anyone been home since?" he asked, needing clarification now that his confidence in his own ability had been called into question.
Temari and Sakura shared a look before she answered again. "I don't know."
He said nothing back, only melting away into the sand that slithered erratically back toward the entrance to the lobby, thrusting open the doors yet again, and heading out into the evening streets.
…
It hadn't taken more than a few minutes for him to burst through the front door of his home, the excitable chattering of his neighbors in the street sounding so far away to him now. His neighbors may have been crowding around the stone ledge that stood between their native front garden and the street, but the gate hadn't been shut in his way, the door was still swung open, and the lights were still on inside.
Gaara stood in the doorway with his muscles tense, trying to grapple with what he'd heard at the hospital. He hadn't even understood it all, could barely remember what that woman had been saying, his body had just reacted on instinct as if he'd been on a mission; decide, act, achieve results. Now, as he stood steadying his breath in the quiet of his home, he could tell he was alone and scanned everything around him.
The girls had left their shoes at the door and they lay forgotten at his feet. Their bags from the market were still on the couch, unemptied. There was a plate of unfinished food on the table surrounded by puppet pieces, a glass with some water, and a plastic takeout cup. He stepped forward, only noticing as he entered further into the house that the air had soured with the unmistakable smell of vomit. His attention followed the odor and he approached the kitchen, observing the pool of vomit and overturned chair, the table had been moved as well, and Kankuro's walkie was on the ground. Gaara swallowed and popped his knuckles, his heart racing. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he noted the mug on the counter, the tea packet on the floor, there was more puke in the sink as well, and the take-out container sat on the counter near the fridge.
Gaara paused, his eyes locked on the plastic lid of the clamshell, and he felt a cold sweat start to precipitate across his brow and dampen the hair at his nape. He could see now how this had happened as he walked through the house, putting the pieces together from the outcome to the origin, and it all had to have started with that container. He stepped forward and picked it up, there was no one around to see his hand shake, and he glared at the scribble across the lid. His hand tightened, the plastic crumpling under his grip, and he felt his face twist into a deep and unpleasant scowl.
"Dammit," he hissed through his teeth. Again? Again?
Hadn't the last time been enough? He'd fought them all off, proven that he had others on his side this time around, and even left every single one of them alive to prove he wasn't out for blood anymore. What more could he have done other than offer up his own life? It had been so long since he'd been attacked, when had the mission with team 7 been? Nearly a year ago? By this point he thought for sure they had gotten the hint.
He glared at the writing on the lid; his damned initial – not in any handwriting he recognized from Naja's – crossed out and replaced with his brothers by his sister who had been none the wiser. This was messy, more so than usual, they'd never been able to take him out but it hadn't bled into the lives of bystanders before. This time his own brother, no less.
Without letting go of the clamshell, Gaara began gathering everything he could find. He recalled the nurse saying something about blood testing, maybe they could test other things, too. The take-out bag was still on the counter and he threw the container inside. Pausing to look at the tea bag and mug, he picked up the mug but left the tea bag, it was unused anyway, and moved on to the living room. The glass of water; practically empty, the plate; still with some food left, and the empty plastic cup all went in the bag as well. He even thought to bring the needles used in Kankuro's various puppets that had been left on the table, they'd been dipped in poison at one point and Temari was always furious with him for leaving them around.
Hadn't the nurse said no cuts, though? Nothing fresh at least, and his brother couldn't have been that clumsy.
Could there have been anything else? Gaara scanned around the room once again, his eyes falling on Kankuro's field supplies that had been discarded on the kitchen table. He paused, another wave of doubt settling over him. When had he lost this confidence in himself? He'd never felt this hesitation with his decisions before, but with his brother put unconscious and unable to breathe on his own, his mind clouded with an unfamiliar haze and he struggled to keep his thoughts straight.
What if he was just paranoid? What if it hadn't been the food, perhaps his water had been tampered with while on his run. After leaving Gaara, as far as he was concerned, Kankuro had been alone and anything could have happened out there without trusted supervision. Gaara walked up to the belt lying on the table and swallowed another lump in his throat. He didn't know what was better to hope for, that this was another attack on him and his brother had been hit with it, or that someone was out there after his brother and they had no idea who or why. His blood was racing in his ears and his gut churned, he pressed his knuckles to his chin until his neck cracked.
The demon wasn't speaking to him so it did nothing to help what he was feeling now.
Grabbing the canteen from the belt, he placed it into the bag and headed for the door. The sand at his feet swirled and began to rise with each stride he took. He was out the door, off the porch, and had nearly reached the gate where his neighbors still stood muttering between themselves, but he stopped. The sand remained lifted in the air but didn't move to break him down and sweep him away.
He glanced to the bag at his side, this repulsive anxiety doing him in for another round. What if something happened while he was traveling? This was evidence, for his brother, what if a fingerprint got erased, or some DNA traces were lost, maybe whatever had infected him would be destroyed? That couldn't happen, he wouldn't allow it to. He'd wasted too much time already, however, and he needed to be fast.
The sand dropped to his feet, hardening and cracking away from the pavers covering the front path, before a circle broke apart from the ground beneath him. He crouched down, placing a hand to the platform, and braced himself.
With the force of an open desert gale, the platform shot up from the path, a small crater left in his place, and the neighbors gathered there gasped and watched as the shape of him disappeared into the distant evening sky.
…
"Matsuri!" Hada called out after her friend. Her feet were moving even though her muscles threatened to turn to jelly.
The sheer surge of adrenaline that came from being snatched from the air or tackled to the ground within a moment's notice had the whole group of students wobbling on uneasy legs now that it had subsided. But Matsuri had wasted no time. After Gaara's sand had disappeared and they were left alone on the grounds, she had been off running for the street after them as fast as her legs would allow. She couldn't keep up with where he'd gone, he was much too fast for that, but she could at least find the evidence of his path.
They'd been out of the training fields and running toward North Gate Road in sporadic groups as they followed curiously after Matsuri.
Hada finally caught up to her side, they were all lagging a little behind after the exhaustion of the day and the training. "Did you hear them?" she asked, breathless. "I was too far away, all I heard was her yelling."
Bato joined them in stride. "Who was that?" He'd never seen anyone approach Gaara Sabaku like that; she'd ran straight into him, grabbed him practically by the collar, and she'd even raised her voice at him. In the end all Bato had seen was the two of them burst into sand and fly away without warning.
Matsuri's hand instinctively went for her walkie, only remembering after trying the dead line for her sensei that his walkie had been out for hours. "That was Sakura Haruno, their friend from the Leaf."
Hada gaped at her, excusing herself around a gathering of people becoming rather displeased with how rowdy the streets had proven to be this weekend, before returning to ask, "The one that you asked about before drills?"
She nodded, stopping at the main road and pausing for a moment. A few of those trailing behind caught up with them Kuso was one of them, he'd had the wind knocked out of him after being snatched off the roof and had taken a slower pace to gain ground to them. Matsuri let Hada and Bato fill in the ones to stop with them and wondered which way to go.
If Kankuro was hurt she needed to get to the hospital and her first thought was to go to the nearest emergency room to the training grounds. Thinking twice, she couldn't allow herself to forget that their senseis had a guest visiting and would have been sticking close to home during their time off. She'd never been to her sensei's house before, but she knew which direction he always went when he left training with his siblings.
"Matsuri, what where they talking about?" Hada asked again.
One of the genin stopped at their side piped up, he had been closer to the center of the commotion. "She said that Kankuro was in the hospital, what are we waiting for?" he said, urging them onward. He was a teammate of Kuso's and had jumped at the chance to follow Matsuri and find out what was going on.
"They would go to the closest ER to their house but I've never been there before," Matsuri explained.
The young man scoffed and began heading off down the street, waving them on to follow him. "That's it? Kankuro Sensei's constantly having me fetch parts to him, I bet I walk by that ER all the time!"
…
Temari and Sakura shared a look before she answered again. "I don't know."
Gaara said nothing back, only melting away into the sand that slithered erratically back toward the entrance to the lobby, thrusting open the doors yet again, and heading out into the evening streets.
Sakura and Temari stared at the space he left. "Of course," Temari muttered. "That's just like him; take off without saying a word."
"Come on," Sakura urged, a hand at Temari's shoulder. "Let's go sit down."
They sat on a bench in the hall outside of Kankuro's room, they had been down the hall to give the busy staff some space as they paced in and out of the room. Sakura had learned that upon arriving to the hospital and giving Kankuro to the emergency staff, Temari had wasted no time in sounding the alarm to her team. The S.O.S had gone out for only a few minutes before the first of them burst through the emergency doors calling out for her. It had been Miller, her faithful second in command, and he'd dragged a few others in with him. He'd been breathless, covered in sweat, and those that followed him fared no better.
Sakura felt her heart swell upon hearing this, another cry threatened to break her throat, but not in anguish this time. She had been so happy to see the rallying of Temari's call, to see all of those under her command at her side when the situation turned dire, and they hadn't even hesitated. More of them had gotten there by this point, nearly all of them were present if not trying to contact those that hadn't been reached yet.
Kankuro had been hurt, a brother of theirs was fighting for his life, and it was all hands on deck.
Temari had gone through several moments of losing her composure as they waited for an update on Kankuro, and Sakura wondered how much support she often got for these difficult times. She thought to when their father had been killed, had she worried like this during the investigation? Had she held herself together only to cry alone back in that empty house? She held her tighter in these thoughts, pressing as much love and compassion as she could hold between her arms into her friend.
"It's okay," Sakura muttered. Temari had her head rested on her shoulder, her eyes staring blankly ahead. "Everything is going to be fine."
Temari had held Sakura's hand in hers and hadn't let it go since they sat down, their palms were sweaty, and she'd received some curious stares, but she couldn't bring herself to let go. "Did he really do nothing when his rib broke?" she murmured, her voice just a whisper between them.
Sakura gripped her hand tightly. "It's not uncommon," she answered, unable to bare admitting that she'd broken one, cracked another, and had no choice but to continue. Friend or not, Sakura was sure that she must have felt somewhat betrayed, or angry with her. But Temari simply turned her face away from the harsh hospital lights and let a few tears fall onto Sakura's shoulder.
Her heart clenched but she stiffened her upper lip, refusing to let herself be weak when Temari and Kankuro needed her to be strong.
Footsteps approached and Temari lifted her head, she and Sakura turned to see the same nurse as before coming to stop at their bench. She held a packet on her clipboard, the papers neatly stapled with clean edges; freshly printed. "Excuse me, Temari," she said broaching their conversation. "I have Kankuro's test results."
Sakura shot up from her seat, Temari quickly following suit, and the scouts gathered around them all bent an ear to listen. "What have they found?" Sakura blurted out.
"Given the nature of his condition, we took a sizable sample to run multiple tests." She looked over the paperwork in front of her, bringing up her reading glasses to better see. "His CBC is normal, the enzyme and metabolic tests came back normal as well. He's clotting as expected so we have ruled out an underlying medical condition as the cause and we don't believe this episode to be symptomatic of disease onset."
Sakura nodded her brow knitted together as she hung on every word the nurse said. Temari didn't understand what the tests were, didn't know what they meant, but she had her eyes fixed on Sakura to tell her all she needed to know. "They ran a tox report, right?" she pressed, her eyes darting to the paper.
The nurse took a second to look her over before meeting her gaze again. "You're the medic training under the Hokage, right?"
"I'm not official yet," she clarified. "But I am mentoring with Hokage Lady Tsunade, that is correct."
The nurse flipped the packet over her clipboard and extended it to her. "Digitoxin among others, see for yourself."
Sakura's eyes bulged at the word, and she snatched the packet. Temari was at her shoulder looking intently at the documents, trying to make sense of the lines of data, pharmaceutical and medicinal jargon that littered the page. Before Temari had even gotten her bearings in the patient information Sakura had already flipped to the next page.
Her eyes darted back and forth across the paper, her hands gripping the fresh parchment tightly and causing it to crinkle.
Digitoxin…2.8 ng/ml
"How?" she heard herself saying. Her eyes lifted; the nurse was staring at her, as was the guard that had been watching over the events since their arrival, but she barely even noticed him.
"What is it?" Temari asked.
"He's been poisoned," Sakura answered. "Badly."
The nurse showed Temari where the item in question could be seen on the paper. "Digitoxin is a cardiac glycoside, it is most commonly used in treating patients with heart conditions. It effects receptor cells and can interfere with normal cell function to drastic extents in cases of overdose."
Sakura cut in and demanded answers. "Where could he have encountered Foxglove?" she asked, Temari throwing her a questioning look. "No one in this city should have any risk for accidental contact, it's the desert."
The nurse nodded. "I know, but it is something that is grown for medicinal purposes at the green house. Exposures have been rare, but accidental in the past."
Temari shook her head, her mind swimming. "I don't understand," she muttered. "He doesn't work in botanical research and he doesn't have heart problems."
The nurse nodded; his medical history has made that much plenty clear. "That's why we were so shocked to see that he had any in his system at all, let alone a toxic amount."
"Is there an antidote?" Temari asked, her hopeful, glossy eyes shining in the florescent lights.
The nurse nodded. "Yes, the military has used Digitoxin as a combat drug in the past, so we have the resources to procure an antidote. But given the rarity of exposure and the fact that prescriptions of it are closely monitored, we don't have an antidote prepared on standby. The toxicology team sent word requesting Chiyo's assistance in overseeing the treatment, hopefully you'll be able to rest easier knowing this."
Temari nodded, a wave of relief washing over her as she was promised an antidote and specialized treatment for her brother. She'd been so pent up, so worried, and it all began falling away so quickly that she felt she could collapse from exhaustion. She sighed heavily and thanked the nurse, placing a hand over Sakura's as she squeezed Temari's shoulder.
"I know this is a difficult time," the nurse began, her eyes swiveling to the scattered groups of scouts listening in from there places stationed about the hallway. "But I must ask that your companions begin to clear out. This is a hospital, and we can't have visitors crowding the halls while we are trying to work."
Sakura answered, her tone apologetic and understanding. "Of course, we didn't mean to get in the way."
"The two of you can stay here," she clarified. "But the rest of them are welcome to the waiting rooms." She glanced down, only now having the time to take notice of their feet. Both ladies still sported bare feet covered in sand and dirt on the tile floor, and it looked like Sakura had smeared blood dried to the bottom of her foot. "Sit tight," she said after a moment. "Give us a minute and we'll get you some patient slippers to wear. There is a visitor bathroom at the end of the wing that has a wash basin, you can clean off in there."
Sakura and Temari thanked the nurse as she turned away from them only to be confronted by the guard that Temari had called for assistance.
"Good news?" he asked, his voice monotone and his brow raised as he glanced to Sakura.
"For now," she huffed. "Thank you for your help getting him here."
He nodded and looked behind him to the guard that had joined them and helped clear a path for them through the crowded streets. He took a long breath and sighed. "Given the situation, we had to call it in to the headquarters and they've sent someone out to investigate the incident."
Temari paused. "Who's coming?" She looked behind them, to where the other guard could be seen watching their conversation, and from behind him, a man walked from the direction of the lobby and approached them, he had a packet of papers in his hand.
The guard only stepped aside to introduce him. "They've sent ANBU to handle things, I will let you take it from here."
"I've been brought up to speed," the man spoke from behind his mask. The girls stood there, staring at the mask and saying nothing, suspicion settling over them as another appeared from the lobby behind him, speaking with a nurse and presumably going over the results of the blood tests. "We'll need to ask the two of you some questions."
Temari pulled Sakura's hand to her side and held it tightly. "We're exhausted," she said curtly. "We'll talk sometime later; I'd like to see to my brother's health for now."
The ANBU shook his head. "This is not a request," he clarified. "It will only take a moment."
Temari may have been a proud woman proven strong of will time and time again, but even she could not refute a clear command given by the ANBU. They ranked far above her and were given amnesty from the usual laws that restricted her. Reluctantly, she stepped aside from Sakura and allowed herself to be guided to the ANBU waiting a few paces away.
Sakura stood there, trying to hold herself poised even with her bloodied foot still stood bare on the cold tile. "How can I help?" she offered, trying to keep an even tone as she stared into the blank expression of the mask.
"The doctors say that he's been poisoned," he began, holding up the packet in his hand and showing it as a reflection of Kankuro's records.
Sakura bit the inside of her lips but was sure her eyes had given her away. Anyone else would have gotten an earful for demanding private patient records, but the ANBU's ability to function above the law was not a matter she could contest. "That's what they told us, yes," she agreed. Something about the pause he took before continuing had Sakura shifting nervously on her feet. She could feel Temari stealing glances her way, hear the quiet words she shared with the other ANBU that had approached her.
"I hear that you claimed it was intentional," the ANBU mused, crossing his arms.
Sakura took a breath before responding. Something about the man's tone made her heart flip in her chest. "I did say something like that."
"What makes you so sure?" he demanded.
She couldn't help but doubletake at his question. "What?" she breathed before continuing quickly after. "It's…Foxglove. No one living here is foraging for a side salad and overdosing on Digitoxin. I'm a studying medical student, I'm trained to recognize signs o–"
"So do you have a theory as to how?"
Thinking for a moment, she looked down to the ground. Her feet seemed so small stood before his own, the way his toes pointed straight at her made her feel scrutinized and feeble. She distracted herself with thinking over the scene at the Sabaku home. "He…he could have eaten something. I think he was eating dinner when it happened."
"Eating what?"
She swallowed, wondering to herself why this man had to be so intense at a moment like this. She'd handled clipped inquiries and curt directions from superiors before, but this felt different. "I only know that he ate the food we got from the market."
The ANBU shifted, as if perking up upon hearing this, and his questions became more pointed. "So you got the food?" Sakura was couldn't deny the statement and Temari, having overheard the tone of the ANBU, had stopped speaking herself to listen in. The man with which she spoke quickly drew her attention back to their conversation. The paper packet fell to his side in his hand, his other coming to rest skeptically on his hip as he observed her. "And you found him incapacitated?'
"Temari and I both arrived at the house and discovered him." She felt her palms start to sweat but didn't let her face show it. She was nervous more so than usual, perhaps it was because the last time a Suna ANBU stared her down like this, she had been in battle with them.
"Tell me what happened after that." Sakura relayed her account of the incident; the food he left on the table, the water bubbling in the kettle, vomit on the floor, he'd collapsed. They'd found him and acted as quickly as they could. "You sent Temari away?" he questioned, his arms crossing over his chest.
Sakura nodded, reluctantly. Her heart was starting to pound, every truthful answer felt like another shovelful from a hole she was digging herself. "She went to grab the guard while I performed the CPR."
"You were unsupervised while administering?" His mask was turned square at her and though she couldn't see them, she could feel the eyes weighing heavily on her. There were people all around them but she felt so secluded when under his scrutiny. The scouts were beginning to murmur among themselves, some of the nurse staff had begun asking them clear out and a few of them had refused, ever faithful to their comrade. This was creating a fuss, Temari was trying to intervene, the ANBU with her was growing frustrated with her lack of focus.
Sakura paused, unsure of what to say. She hadn't the time to think between questions and this line of dialog was clearly hostile. She wanted to retreat, to sit back down and just be left alone. She'd fought men of his caliber before, even knocked a few of them out, but this was not a situation she could punch her way out of. "Well, yes, I've been certified by –"
The ANBU turned from her then, releasing her from his gaze only to crush her with his words. He called behind him to his partner he'd arrived with. "She's going to have to come with us," he stated over the commotion of the hall.
Sakura balked and Temari whipped her head around. "Wait, what's going–"
Temari's voice pierced through her words. "What?!" she seethed. She broke away from her conversation and the ANBU tried to grab her arm. Snatching it away, she glared at him before turning those eyes onto the ANBU in question. Seeing this, Sakura felt him grasp her shoulder and was about to turn her toward the door before she recoiled and found Temari pulling her away. She wasted no time placing herself between them and squared up with him face to face. "Where do plan to take her?" she demanded, her course tone of voice drawing the attention of all the gathered scouts. More were arriving now, this exchange between their captain on ANBU the first they had seen of the situation.
Sakura tried to settle Temari but the ANBU only fueled her more. "She's our number one suspect at the moment. She'll need to come with us to the headquarters for interrogation."
She opened her mouth to speak but it was another familiar voice that answered. "I have several objections to this!" Though they hadn't seen her arrival, Lady Chiyo herself had stepped from Kankuro's treatment room to get a handle over the commotion inhibiting their work. She had not expected to see prodigy of a fellow nation's Kage so scrutinized by their own military, however. "She is an eyewitness," she clarified with a bite to her words. "Not a suspect! We can interview her here!"
The ANBU faced his elder's approach and even though he clearly wouldn't back down he had stood taller, held his arms rigid at his side, and squared his shoulders. "She could be the perpetrator. It's in the victim's best interest to separated them until we are certain."
Sakura, having been a bit dazed to see Lady Chiyo again after all this time, nearly choked on her own gasp. "Wha – Victim?!" Her heart dropped into her gut at the very word.
"Listen here!" Temari began to shout, the ANBU's both turning their attention to her.
Sakura felt a panic rise within her. She'd already gotten Temari in trouble earlier that day, they'd barely spoken about her talk with the General but she could tell that her actions had been the cause of it. How could she forgive herself if she caused Temari even more grievance? "Temari," she began to plead, trying to quell the rising fury of her dear friend. "It'll be okay. I'll just go for now and –"
"No!" she refused with a snap. "I cannot protect you if you're not with me." Her expression was hard but it sounded to Sakura as if she was pleading all the same.
"I haven't done anything, so I'll be fine," Sakura assured her. "I'll probably be back soon."
The ANBU had returned his gaze to Sakura. Temari glared at him; protective, threatening, she clearly hadn't taken Sakura's comfort to heart. The ANBU made a clear show of observing the venom that Temari had spat at him, before speaking to Sakura directly. "You'll have to admit it sooner or later," he said, leaning down slightly, his voice low. "It's all according to plan, isn't it?"
"Plan?" she repeated, a lump in her throat.
"Think you could get them all under thumb?" he jeered. "You've managed to convince Temari to trust you more than any of us in the city, I'll give you that," he said with contempt. Temari scoffed, more so a laugh, and he glared at her. Sakura tried to seek explanation but he continued, his next words causing Temari to seethe once again and Sakura to step back in a moment of disbelief. "Even got the demon himself thirsting after you," he sneered, his expression of disgust clear in his voice. "I imagine that one wasn't too difficult for you?"
Sakura found her voice then as it burst from her throat, her heart racing. "What are even talking about?" she demanded, her words echoing in the crowding hallway. "Under thumb? I don't–"
The ANBU persisted. "You take us for blind?" he questioned though he sought no answer from her. "And what's worse, when Kankuro wasn't going to bend to your whims, you knew you had to get rid of him, didn't you?" he accused, advancing to close the step back she had taken.
"That's crazy! Why would you even say – Temari!" Sakura cried as she turned around, desperation reaching out to her. Her mind swam with confusion; what where these accusations, why were they befalling her now of all times, and how could she possibly refute them? "It's not true, I swear!"
Temari hadn't even looked her way, her eyes were still locked on the ANBU stood across from her. "Sakura wouldn't do that; she loves me, she loves my family!" It was an unfamiliar expression that cast shadows across her face under the white fluorescents, but after the day that she'd had and the events unfolding around her, even without her renowned iron fan, she looked ready to go to war.
His hand gripped Sakura's wrist then, an unfortunate lapse in the ANBU's awareness missing the manner in which those around him made way for a sudden and swift approach. "It's time to go."
…
Gaara had stepped through the doors of the lobby and headed for the direction his brother's treatment room, the sand from his platform had broken down and followed him inside, instinct and habit telling him now was not the time to be without his weapon. His heart was still racing and he hadn't been able to settle it, but even through the blood rushing in his ears he could hear that there was a commotion in the hallway up ahead.
Someone had shouted, though over the raised voices he hadn't discerned what she'd said, but he knew it to be Sakura's voice with certainty. His pace quickened.
"Temari! It's not true, I swear!"
"She wouldn't do that –"
Rounding the corner, he saw the hallway filled with nurse staff and scouts, all arguing for control. "Move aside," he demanded as he stepped through the crowd, and they complied quickly enough. He'd seen them clearly then; his sister poised like a snarling wildcat about to strike while Sakura seemed distraught and trying hopelessly to pacify her.
The ANBU had grabbed her then, and in the moment his gloved hand wrapped around Sakura's wrist Gaara felt the sand keeping pace with him swell under his feet, skating him across the tile and straight up to the affront without another step. The man hadn't even seen his approach by the time that Sakura's wrist had turned to sand and slipped through his fingers, only to be cradled in Gaara's hand as he glared daggers at him. The look was a reflection of the quiet rage he'd carried only a few short years ago and, to the ANBU, it was a crack in the monster's domestic mask.
The ANBU paused at Gaara's sudden appearance, he didn't speak and those around them fell silent as well. Sakura was the one that had gasped, the sensation was unexpected and it had startled her, however grateful she was to be released from the man's grip.
Gaara broke the silence in the hall, his eyes locked on the man in front of him as he stood at the defense of Sakura and his sister, his voice low and dripping with disdain. "Temari?" he asked. "What is the meaning of this?"
Temari, now bolstered by her brother's presence, didn't even skip a beat. "Kankuro's been poisoned. He's accusing Sakura of doing it, trying to arrest her," she informed him quickly, her eyes flashing to the ANBU with a glint of victory.
Gaara's jaw clenched and his lips turned into a deep scowl, temptations of his youth bubbled up in his mind and gave him uncivilized ideas for this man. He said nothing at first, he only turned to Sakura and handed her the items he had brought from his house. Dazed and unsure of what to do, she took them without protest. "Have them test what's in here for the poison," he instructed, his voice taking on a hushed yet urgent tone between them, his expression showing for her as gentle and worried.
Sakura scanned his face, confused; where had his anger gone? She'd just heard it in his voice not a moment ago but it had melted away when his eyes fell on her. She nodded once, seeing only as he turned her back toward his sister, as if to relinquish her to safety of her side, how his expression had darkened again.
He returned his fury to the ANBU in front of him, having made note of the second that had been present as well, and confronted him. "You will rescind your accusations," he stated, offering no room for argument or plea.
The ANBU made no move to concede. "Your favoritism has clearly blinded you both."
Gaara scoffed. "So then your discernment has failed you! Rescind them," he repeated, the snap to his words were punctuating. "Now!"
"We have our suspicions and our rights to investigate." The ANBU was no longer advancing after Sakura as he had done before, he was too smart to try that now, but he wasn't backing down either. Again, Gaara wondered in times like these if it was indeed better to have respect through fear. "What's happened will demand answers."
Gaara rolled his eyes, what did they take him for? "You won't find any with her," he assured. "And she won't be going anywhere with you."
He turned his mask to Sakura then, a gesture to the nature of the man stood before him, a sneer to his words. "Need I say more?" She couldn't find the voice to respond.
"You'll say nothing to her!" Gaara snapped. "You want answers? Fine! I'll get them for you, but you'll not lay another hand Sakura or my sister."
Without his mask the ANBU likely would have spat. "Rebellious!" he charged. "The lot of you!"
The second ANBU spoke up this time. "We don't intend to be forceful," he explained, about to continue in attempt to deescalate the conflict, but several gazes glared back at him within an instant.
Chiyo stepped forward and raised her voice, silencing the ensuing arguments against the ANBU, the scouts debating with the nursing staff, and even drawing the attention of the incoming students, only having now just found their way through the front lobby. "That will be enough!" she shouted. "I demand order in this hospital!"
Gaara did not speak but did not allow the ANBU out of his sight, he could barely keep the sand on the ground from quaking with his rage.
"This is no place for violence, and no time for quarrel! Given Sakura's lack of security clearance within her own country, I am doubtful she would have had the connections to attain a poison of such potency." The ANBU made no argument against this. "I suggest you not sour our relations with the Leaf and continue your investigation while she supports the Sabaku's through this ordeal. You may seek your answers later."
Matsuri stepped forward then, trying to embolden herself though the electric fury bouncing between her sensei and the ANBU had her shaking. "Gaara Sensei?" she questioned on behalf of the group gathering around them. She was about to ask what was going on, but his eyes snapped over to her and she held back a gasp; she'd never seen such a look on his face before, it frightened her.
"Matsuri!" Gaara said as he swiftly approached her. His hands were grasping her shoulders, his eyes boring down hard on her, and she could only star back in silence under such a gaze. "You wanted to repay Sakura for helping you, right?" he questioned.
She stammered, shocked by the intensity behind his eyes. "Wha–uh, y-yeah."
"Perfect. I have to go; don't let anyone I don't trust come near her or my sister, understand?"
Her eyes moved to the ANBU for only a moment before she asked, "Who is considered trustworthy?"
Gaara glanced around the hall. "Our students, our squad, and Lady Chiyo. That's it."
Matsuri swallowed, glad that her fellow students had followed her and she had their support. "Okay," she agreed with a shake to her voice, she scared of the ANBU but terrified to disobey her teacher.
Returning to his sister, Gaara gave her the best assurance he could. "Just wait for me, I'm going to fix this. I promise." She nodded to him, not knowing what he had planned, but trusting him more than anyone to be able to see it through. He'd reached out for Sakura then, her wrist feeling so small in his hand, and she hardly noticed the sand that he called up in that moment. "No matter what they say, don't go anywhere with them," he urged, his azure eyes locked with her own. "All right?" Sakura nodded, her brow slightly pinched, her slips slightly parted. He let go of her wrist then, but something else remained encircled there. "For good measure."
Sakura looked to her left wrist and Temari smirked upon seeing the thin and polished sandstone bangle that shown with a golden sheen in the light of the hall.
Turning to the ANBU, Gaara glared and made one final assurance, a promise to the men that had so dared lay hands on his precious family and his coveted consort. "I'll be watching."
All at once, Gaara was gone, disappearing in a whirlwind of sand down the hall and out the door while, left stood in his place, the rest of his sand had gathered up to form a clone of himself; blank faced and expressionless with those pupilless eyes following the ANBU's every move.
"It'll be okay," Temari promised Sakura. "Just don't listen to them."
Sakura stayed close to her friend; her heart pounding, her mind swimming, her eyes unable to part from the back of Gaara's sand clone as it stood there silent and menacing in their defense. She felt the weight of his chakra as the bracelet dangled on her wrist, just a little too small to be slipped off, and try as she might to stop it, the words of ANBU echoed in her head.
…got the demon himself thirsting after you…need I say more?
No, nonsense. Absurd!
He'd clearly been trying to rattle her and it worked, she'd lost her composure and had even agreed to go with them just to try and deescalate things. Of course she hadn't been the one to hurt Kankuro, anyone could see that, he was just trying to see if she acted suspicious. That had to be it.
But…
She's not going anywhere with you…you'll say nothing to her…
Her chest tightened, her face began to flush and she quickly dispelled the thought. She couldn't focus on that now; it wasn't the time to be wasting on such unfounded and ridiculous claims. Instead, she attended to Temari while they waited for updates on Kankuro's condition, she was the one that needed her focus above anything else. It would be selfish of her to dwell elsewhere.
Even still, Sakura found her thoughts circling back to certain memories to rethink, reevaluate, and wonder.
×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×
PSA: Remember that Foxglove is poisonous from its roots to its petals and everything in between. Beautiful, dangerous, and best left to be admired, it is a wonderful addition to a garden and is only toxic upon ingestion. Always have the number for Poison Control close at hand for any unforeseen circumstance!