Follow the Sun Excerpts in Time

by WiccadBaltane0501

*Sequel to Follow the Sun* After such a sudden and surprising start to the friendship between Gaara and Sakura during her time stranded in the desert, they both find themselves wondering what will transpire the next time they cross paths. Only time will tell, and time has a way of bringing them together.

17. Installment 5 (3)

You guys wanted a heaping serving of GaaSaku with a side of atmospheric moonlight, right?

Good, cause that's what I made.

Follow the Sun

Excerpts in Time: 5 (3)

愛愛愛

The windstorm had fully swallowed the city. Gusts blew wildly around every corner, sand flew into the air on its tail, and there was darkness throughout the residences now, the lights having long been doused for the evening. It was a sparse moonlight that broke through the thin cloud cover.

Floating as one with the sand on the wind, Gaara could not feel the chill and therefore felt no urgency as he navigated the streets. He was alone – mostly – and what little life was nearby had been irrelevant to his concerns, giving him hope that the night would remain uneventful enough to escape with Sakura for a few hours without raising suspicion. He moved through the city on a familiar route, one that led him to the home of his old teacher and rare confidant.

He'd been expecting him all day and was growing increasingly curious as to why he hadn't shown face.

Baki may have served with the council, holding a similar position as those that were out for his student's demise, but he'd never turned on Gaara. Though, there had been once when Matsuri was kidnapped that Baki had turned a blind eye to the plot in motion against him and, upon Gaara's return to the village with his shell-shocked student in tow, it had led to a very audible spat between the two. But Baki's motives had remained clear; Gaara had assumed responsibility for another, and he would be unfit for it if he couldn't manage to protect them both from danger. It had been a lesson that bittered him to learn, and one he was now attempting to employ on mass by seizing the title of village leader.

Upon a gust that melted his movements into a dust devil kicked up around the corner, Gaara arrived on the street outside Baki's apartments. It had been quiet as of yet, but upon closer inspection of the alleys leading this way, there were traces of chakra lingering on the sand, the echoes of footprints long since swept away. It was difficult to determine how long ago these imprints could have been made, but this energy left the impression of determined and specialized chakra use; stealth and camouflage, just as he was doing.

Gaara looked up; two floors above he could see Baki's balcony, and it looked peaceful and undisturbed.

Well, he would see about that.

Indiscernible, like a phantom hidden within the gales, Gaara ascended to the balcony and silently emerged the from that formless cloud. The balcony door was slightly open, the lights were off, and he could sense that Baki was home. It felt like they were alone.

With a push, he moved the door open a little more as he slipped inside. He'd been here countless times before, he could find his way in the pitch black, and the dim light through the blinds was more than enough.

"Baki," he called out into the home, his volume modest given the hour. "I'm–"

"Where's your cloak?" Baki interrupted, his demand coming from across the apartment where he sat leaned back in his chair with a foot kicked up on his table. "It's cold outside."

Gaara glanced down at his person, a little taken aback by his blunt observation, noting that – yes, he wasn't wearing his cloak any longer. In the encroaching cold of the evening, he had sacrificed it for more important matters. "I didn't walk."

Baki paused a moment, observing Gaara as he stood in the dim light through the balcony door, before he sucked his teeth and said, "Whatever, get in here. And close the door."

There was something in his tone when he spoke like this that typically reminded Gaara of Temari's cadence in times of pressure; an endearing sort of forcefulness that compelled him to comply. Closing the door behind him, Gaara walked over to where Baki sat. On his way, he'd stepped over several items strewn from the coffee table, one of the blinds had been pulled down by the door, and Gaara had seen the distinct color of blood on the floor. A solid drop, stationary, likely from his previous visitor.

"You've been busy," Gaara observed.

Baki scoffed, shaking his head. "When am I not because of you?" He moved his foot from atop the table, using it to kick out the chair adjacent from him. "Sit."

Gaara sat.

When he attempted to speak, Baki again beat him to it. "You know," he started, sounding with the remnants of exasperation. "I remember your sister making such a fuss when we'd send you off on those solo missions. Wouldn't ever let your dad have any peace over it, no matter how much it pissed him off." Baki let out a heavy sigh as he looked down at his boots, a rare candid moment where they sat in privacy, when he didn't where his headscarf and didn't hide the scars on his face. "You were so young then."

The unexpected mention of their family's colorful adolescence kept Gaara silent.

In response, Baki glanced back to him, a halfhearted glare behind his jaded eyes. "Where do you get off claiming Kazekage at your age?" he grumbled. "Making me feel like an old man."

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "Call it my ego."

"I will," Baki assured him, rolling his eyes. "You clearly didn't get your ass kicked enough growing up."

At this, Gaara smirked and chuckled. "My bad."

That glare was back, though there was a hint of amusement behind it now. "Smartass."

For a moment, they sat there staring down at the table as the sound of the wind whistled past the balcony. Gaara contemplated the weight of the air, the tone of his mentor's voice, and was hushed when he finally said, "I know it may compromise your position within the council, but…" Baki, without moving, peered over at Gaara. "I was hoping for your support."

Baki sighed, rubbing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. "There's no contest," he answered. "I've seen who's been considered for nomination in the past. Even if they were stronger than you now, you'd surely outpace them. Obviously, your opposition is realizing that and finding it irritating."

"So, you're with me?" Gaara asked. "I won't be backing down from what I said."

"I know." Baki's mumbling turned to grumble, "And you'll get what you've always got from me, be grateful for it."

Satisfied, Gaara looked back toward the balcony, scanning the messy floor. "Who came to visit?"

Rubbing his shoulder, he groaned as he looked out to the mess that they'd made of his modest living room. He hadn't bothered to clean anything after shoving Shia out the door. Baki thought for a moment, pondering the possibilities. "She was ANBU." Gaara stiffened in his chair. "Said she was with Yuli before the attack."

With his laxness giving way to a growing tension, Gaara sought immediate clarification. "Why was she here?"

"Seems she's weighed her options and placed her bets," Baki muttered, Shia's words still fresh in his mind. "And she's not betting on them."

"Or so she'd have you believe," Gaara said, punctuating Baki's statement with generous skepticism. He considered the likelihood of an ANBU betraying their oath for an old target such as himself and found the odds in his favor to be lacking. She had moved fast on the heels of chaos, which meant Tojuro's orders could be moving faster. "Do you think she can she be trusted?"

Baki shook his head. "Let me worry about that. She's a slippery opportunist, don't consider her an asset quite yet." A moment of silence passed after Gaara nodded in agreement and, amidst his exhaustion, Baki finally asked, "How's Kankuro?"

"He could be better," Gaara muttered, audibly displeased.

"And Temari?" he continued.

With the same tone, Gaara added, "So could she."

Nodding, Baki asked, "Have they given their support?"

Gaara hesitated before letting out a huff. Slouched in his chair, his hand was in his hair, scratching his scalp in contemplation as he begrudgingly admitted, "I don't know what they're thinking."

Baki studied the tension in Gaara's shoulders, the way his expression gave glimpses of the uncertainty behind his eyes. "They've got you," Baki tried to reassure him. But Gaara didn't look his way, his lips thinned into a scowl, one that tempted to reject such a possibility. "Make no mistake; things will only get more dangerous from here, but those two…" Trailing off as visions of their own eclectic sort of happiness filled his head, Baki rightfully concluded, "They'd go to war for you."

With his hands clasped over his lap, Gaara's response was a quiet one. "I'd never wish to make them."

"Then watch their backs like they watch yours." His tone had sounded more like and order between ranks rather than advice between confidants, and he continued in that same manner to inquire, "Who else you got?"

"Who else?"

Shaking his head like the frustrated mentor he was, Baki insisted, "Your siblings will be accused of favoritism and bias, your squad the same, your students will be disregarded as easily coerced, and you can't place bets in any ANBU even if they're placing bets in you. You'll need someone else to pull influence."

Gaara frowned. "Influence? You said yourself there's no contest."

"Well go ahead then," Baki goaded sarcastically. "Lay waste to your competitors and be branded by whatever monstrous title the public can think of next. What good is power and authority with the legacy of a tyrant?" Gaara only rolled his eyes, his pride bruising over how Baki's words rang true. "Public opinion can work in your favor the same way it's been used to your detriment. Who can you leverage?"

Without his siblings and their affiliates, Gaara's list of acquaintances was a dwindling one. Those that he chose needed reaching capabilities far beyond themselves.

There was Raiko, over in South Side, and although he ran with questionable crowds, he was still a Suna shinobi and his influence was something to take advantage of if possible. Though, it would pay to find out who his handlers were. Niko, as well, could be easily ignored as a member of his squad, yet she commanded a sizable sway over the nomadic clans and could affect their dealings within the capitol. The choices they made could greatly impact the profits from the city's various markets, though, she'd need time out in the barrens of nomadic country to do so. Then there was Naja…Gaara wasn't sure if she'd ever face him the same after the way he'd shown up at her door, but she was highly respected amongst the merchants of the market. In a land of ever fluctuating purveyors and wares, Naja's had remained a constant, and that meant something in the heart of Suna's middleclass economy.

Small though his arsenal may be, his pieces could be made advantageous.

"I have some ideas," Gaara responded. "May get us on the right track."

Nodding, Baki grunted his approval. "Good. You can't afford to sit around. At present, you meet the criteria to qualify for consideration, but you'll need more support to secure a controlling portion of the vote." Gaara nodded. "Just remember: same as you need to use those around you to your advantage, you need to keep those close to you from becoming a liability." Baki spoke directly to Gaara as he insisted, "You understand."

Gaara shrugged and nodded.

"All right. Having said that," he tentatively continued. "I can't use my position to assist you until I can give you my official preference in the nomination."

"What?" Gaara felt his stomach twist as he turned in his chair to face Baki.

The Jonin, having seen this flare-up before, put up a hand in negotiation. "I won't let you go blindly-"

"Who else can I rely on?" he demanded, growing agitated.

Truly, Baki did not miss Gaara's argumentative side. "I can still help you."

"But you just said–"

"Just as your siblings and squad," Baki interrupted with a bite, he struggled momentarily to keep his tone hushed between them. "My influence over you since childhood could brand you a puppet and myself a usurper by proxy. Do not give them anything to further stain your reputation with." He continued only after a few shallow breaths; his voice was quieter now. "I told you: you'll get what you've always got."

"But not until the title of Kazekage is already within my grasp," Gaara countered, his words thick with agitation, his expression souring into one of dissatisfaction.

To Baki, he only looked to be a young man amidst a fit.

"Using my title to manipulate our bureaucracy isn't how you want to gain your advantage. Trust me, everything comes to light eventually. I may have advised your father, may have half-assed tried to help you kids, too, but…" Baki peered down at his hands, weaving his fingers together before cracking most of his knuckles in one squeeze. "When you make it, you'll need someone better than me watching your back. Best to start considering your options now."

Gaara gnawed the inside of his lip, his jaw was stiff.

He hadn't anticipated this and it felt akin to rejection. Becoming Kazekage meant claiming his father's title, his father's power, and – he had assumed – his advisor. Baki had always been there for Gaara; advancing his training, furthering his potential, protecting him from a distance. Who else was there to turn to?

In this moment of silence, Baki saw his chance to lend some sagely wisdom to the young man. "Since you're already mad at me," he said, earning an eye roll from Gaara. "Let me ask you this: what will you do about Sakura?"

Feeling his expression freeze over, Gaara fully faced Baki. He wasn't expecting to hear her name, couldn't decipher the question, and became guarded when he asked, "How do you mean?"

Baki could've shook his head.

There sat his highest hopes for the next Kage to make history, reduced to anxious suspicion at the mere mention of a woman. Where had the violence of his youth gone? When had the nihilism and vengeance been locked away? With just a blink, he'd gone from a bloodthirsty weapon of war to a powerful shinobi that could bring honor back to the Kazekage name. Unfortunately, just as far too many before him, Gaara was distracted by his desires.

"How much of a liability will you allow her to become?"

愛愛愛

She wasn't going to.

After the twentieth time, she insisted she wasn't going to anymore.

With each glance to the clock on the nightstand, mere minutes were ticking by. It had to be after twelve-thirty in the morning, maybe closer to quarter-to-one, and she'd been playing this stop and go game with the alarm clock since eleven.

Sakura sighed and rolled to face away from the faint glow of the digital numbers.

She'd been lying awake in bed, mind restless, unable to settle, her eyes long since accustomed to the dark. The bed had been comfortable the night before, but now she was snuggled with a fresh set of clothes on under the blankets. She had debated changing into her pajamas, only to decide against it in favor of being prepared to leave ahead of time; it could be awkward asking Gaara to wait while she changed. She had considered leaving his cloak by the door with the others, but with Kankuro falling asleep in front of the TV, she quietly carried it with her to the guest room; she didn't want to risk waking him when retrieving it later.

When she'd gone upstairs, she intended to tell Temari that she was going somewhere with Gaara later that evening. But Temari had clearly been crying, or least fighting back some tears, and Sakura could only try to comfort her instead.

She'd been sitting on her bed, towel limply laid over her shoulders with her hair dripping on her lap. It was a candid look beneath her steely façade. Her friendship to Temari had given Sakura a glimpse of grace under pressure, strength through adversity, and success amidst opposition. It was easy to forget how fragile a heart could be underneath it all. It wasn't for long – Temari was still quite reserved even in moments of vulnerability – but Sakura sat next to her on the bed and held her friend until the rest of her tears had dried.

Temari laughed at herself after that, sniffling as she did, as she was unaccustomed to such blubbering. With the towel held to Temari's dripping ends, Sakura had asked if she was managing all right. Rhetorical, and Temari shook her head. No, she wasn't. Sakura then asked if she was still afraid for her brothers. Yes, she always was. Could these kinds of attacks continue? Of course, they always do.

Finally, after some prodding questions mixed with patient silence, Sakura had asked, Do you not…want him to be a Kage?

Temari had simply answered, I just want him to be safe.

She had dropped it after that, reassuring her friend that all was going to be well and distracting her with idle conversation. Just to be sure, Sakura had tested the waters about going home a day early, maybe it wasn't the time to host anymore, but Temari had promptly shut the notion down. Apparently, she wasn't to be going anywhere.

They continued like this, Temari now feeling a little lighter in the shoulders and not as tight in her chest, until sleep finally beckoned her to bed. She hugged Sakura, squeezing her tightly before she left to the guest room for the evening. It had initially worried her to have Sakura in the middle of this but, amidst all the chaos and whatever fallout may come, she was just happy to have not been alone.

After leaving Temari's room, Sakura told herself that there simply hadn't been the right time to tell her that she was heading somewhere. It would've been inappropriate to bring it up after their conversation, surely. But now, lying awake in the quiet house as the only one that know of her planned outing, she couldn't help but accuse herself of purposeful omission.

Staring at the ceiling, Sakura furrowed her brow.

What am I doing?

Admittedly, she knew the answer. At some point, she had clearly developed an attraction to her friend's younger brother, had gotten people convinced that he had feelings for her, and had agreed to a midnight rendezvous with him in secret. Unable to think straight, her thoughts were mottled with an offhanded remark from Miller, something about getting a date with Gaara…that had just been a joke, right? This wasn't a date, was it?

Sakura looked at the clock. 12:53AM. She sighed; a hushed groan of frustration passed her lips as she rubbed her face.

She wasn't getting any sleep like this, and the nerve of him! Telling her to simply enjoy her night as if he weren't stealing her away somewhere after everyone else had gone to bed. So what of the windstorm? Had the air been calm, would he have waited for the cover of nightfall just the same? Was it the weather he blamed or the witnesses? And to say so with such confidence, to even jest and offer his bedroom for her to wait in–

That familiar heat was creeping across her face again, along with a scowl of annoyance.

Somehow, it seemed he had swiped her characteristic boldness and she had gotten a taste of the receiving end. She could admit defeat when admiring his eye-catching maturity, she felt no shame in stealing glances at how well the years had sculpted him, and for so long those little butterflies had simply been attributed to the sensation of his power that rolled over her. However, being reduced to fluster and fuss over such attributes wasn't a side effect she'd so casually accept.

If he intended to taunt her, she could certainly indulge him.

The thin quilt she lay under was cast aside as she swung her feet down to the floor. Gently easing off the bed, Sakura grabbed her pair of sandals and folded the large cloak over an arm.

The floor groaned once as she stepped carefully to the door, accompanied only by a short creak of the hinges as she opened it. She paused, listening into the hall. It was dark upstairs, the only light coming from the first floor where the TV remained on. No one was moving around, it sounded like a movie menu was playing – likely left on a loop – and, encouraged by the relative silence, Sakura stepped out of the guest room. Pulling the door nearly closed, she refrained from latching it; the knob creaked horribly and she wasn't having any of that. Along the floor, there was a soft strip of carpet that stretched the length of hallways upstairs, muffling her steps.

Her hands heavy with the deceiving weight of the cloak, Sakura spied a door mostly swallowed by the darkness down the hall. She continued carefully passed a few other doors and came to rest outside of Gaara's room. Reaching for the doorknob, she paused to ensure no one had woken, and entered.

Sliding around the door and gently latching it closed behind her, the sound of the TV downstairs was muffled to near silence. The floor wasn't carpeted, though it did have a thin rug to cover most of it. There was no light on in the room, and there was hardly a sound besides the wind whistling outside the window. The curtains were drawn, but it still felt drafty and just as empty as before. She knew he wasn't one to idle, but she was surprised to see nothing had notably changed.

Their guest room had felt nicer than this.

Even still, she could feel echoes of him like waves long after leaving the water. He wasn't here, but his lingering presence made him feel so close. Sakura brought the cloak to her nose, that arid scent was gone now, but something else in here faintly resembled it. She breathed in slowly, leaning her head back against the door as her heart began to jump and those pesky butterflies returned. The flare of boldness that brought her here had fizzled out, those embers now smoldering.

In the darkness of his room, Sakura placed her hands over her face in as she slowly exhaled.

What am I doing?

愛愛愛

It couldn't have been later than one-thirty when Gaara finally materialized behind his front door. Later than he had been hoping on returning, but his hold-up couldn't be helped and delay wasn't an option. The first-floor lights were off besides the TV flickering over Kankruo as he slept in the recliner. Without much disturbance, he turned off the screen and checked to be sure his brother was truly asleep.

Out cold.

Gaara sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood in the dark. His conversation with Baki had been…interesting. He had gotten the confirmation he wanted, but not exactly how he wanted it, and it had prompted him to ask for one last personal favor, off the record. It had taken some time to get the papers together, but he was sure it would prove to be worth it. Since he was already being productive, he elected to make a spontaneous stop before heading home. Understandably, as he had shown up unannounced sometime after midnight, his visit hadn't been well received.

After the evening he'd had, even standing in the darkness of his living room felt a relief. But it wasn't quite over yet.

Before heading upstairs, he kicked the corner of the recliner. Kankuro jolted a little and groaned, not fully up but coherent enough. "You're on the chair," Gaara said.

Kankuro squeezed his eyes closed, frowning as he rubbed his face. "No shit."

"Are you good for the night?"

He had a blanket over him that he pulled up while settling into the chair, only once wincing in pain as he did so, and mumbled, "Go away."

Gaara stared at his brother a moment, eventually satisfied that he'd be fine enough until he could check on him later.

A flick of the wrist had his sand ensuring the locks were all in place, the yard gates included, and he was certain his usual deterrents would keep their home free from any late-night visitors while he was out. Climbing slowly up the stairs, he ran a hand through his hair, rubbed his shoulder, and stretched out his neck; the weekend had made him tense. Stiff, stressed, anxious…his worries weren't helping either. Maybe it had gotten too late to take her somewhere, maybe she would be too tired, he hadn't much considered what he'd say, yet all too soon his path deposited him outside the guest room door.

His palms were clammy, he felt unprepared, but he reached for the handle anyway.

It was only then that he paused, confused. The door was slightly ajar.

"Wait…" he breathed.

She wasn't in there, he was certain, but he nudged the door open to be sure. Empty. He stepped back from the room, setting his sights toward the end of the hall.

What is she doing?

His steps were muffled against the floor, disguising how quickly he came to stand outside his own bedroom; tense and unsure. Even still, his hand moved of its own accord and unlatched the door with a sudden twist of the handle, the sound was abrupt in the silence of the hallway.

He was two steps inside before he noticed crossing through the doorway, the darkness surprising him, the small gasp he heard stopping him in place. Before allowing himself to speak, he shut the door as quietly as he could given his haste, and swiped at the wall for the light switch. It was a standing lamp in the corner that turned on, a warm light, but it was a shock to the eyes, nonetheless.

Sakura winced, she was standing near the lamp and covered her eyes for moment. "Hey!" she hissed.

"You're in here," Gaara stated in disbelief.

Looking away from the light, she blinked away some stars and shushed him, sounding annoyed. "I am."

"In the dark?" he questioned directly after.

She finally looked at him then, brow furrowed and lips tilted in a shallow scowl. "Does it matter?" she replied, sarcastic.

He didn't respond, certain that his bewildered expression said more than he could. She had been sitting on the floor by his bed before she stood, his cloak draped over her, the faint scent of oranges hung on the air, and the room felt cold to the rest of the house. How long has she been here, he thought, I didn't think she would…

Silence didn't help quell the nervous jumping of her heart after he'd burst through the door like that, she was halfway expecting him to have woken someone. Her voice, just above a whisper but with a bite, broke the silence between them. "What took you so long?"

As she picked the cloak up from where it had fallen to the floor, Gaara noticed the bracelet on her wrist as it flashed in the light. He could faintly feel the rhythm of her pulse, it was rather quick. "Didn't sleep?"

Sakura glanced to the side, her fingers rubbing her wrist under the bangle, bumping into it and sliding it along her skin. Though distant in his senses, that friction held fast his attention. She was fidgeting again. "Not well."

"Hm," he murmured, his own pulse thumping strangely in his ears. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

Trying to still her nerves, Sakura mustered up whatever past cadence she could. "So, are you ready?"

He'd noticed her change of clothes and her sandals were present as well. She had come prepared for the cold with his cloak just as he'd offered – oddly satisfying – though as unaccustomed as she was to the open desert after dark, she would likely need a little something more.

"Just a minute."

Gaara pulled another scarf from a hook near the door, grabbing an extra set of goggles as well. Lightening up his utility belt by only keeping the carriers for his canteens and belt loops for the goggles, Gaara secured it around himself and grabbed a loose-fitting long-sleeved overshirt. His scouting cloak wasn't as quality as the other, he'd likely need the extra layer.

Sakura stood by, biting the inside of her lip, unsure of what to do with herself.

She could tell that he had been caught off guard, he was visibly tense when he came in, he still was even now. She shifted her weight on her feet, kept having to refrain from nervously touching the bracelet, reminding herself that he could likely feel however she stressed the band. Growing frustrated, it went against her pride to admit that this confidence thing wasn't as easy as she remembered.

"Here." Gaara handed her the scarf and goggles with one hand while he adjusted the collar of his overshirt with his other.

Sakura took it. She was trying to be natural but noted that there was an awkward hesitance about her that she wasn't sure how to shake. Taking a shallow breath, her blood starting to thrum in her ears, she put the scarf around her neck. Perhaps it may offer some cover if the heat behind her cheeks continued to persist. She slipped on her sandals, the cloak as well, and straightened the fabric around the slouching shoulders. It had several ornamental metal clasps down the length of the front but she only closed it about halfway.

"I can carry that," she offered, a hand awaiting the canteen that Gaara was about to secure in his belt.

He merely shook his head once. Cloak fastened, amenities secured, Gaara asked instead, "Where to?"

Outside the house, the wind still howled and flexed the window within the frame, even the sound was enough to give her a chill. Attempting apathy, she said, "I wouldn't know."

"Why not?" Gaara asked, choosing to press her further by adding, "Didn't Temari give you any suggestions?"

Her eyes narrowed, positive that he was toying with her again. "It never came up." Another one of her truthful omissions.

"Should we tell her we're leaving?" he offered as a joke, amused with the way her eyes widened and she took a slow breath.

"No, we don't need to wake her," she said firmly, glaring at him for his notable volume, before continuing with a pointed accusation. "Plus, you promised to take me somewhere."

"So now you remember?" Her expression told him she wasn't fond of being taunted. "All right," he sighed, relenting to her sparking annoyance over his teasing, and offered to ask, "Do you at least have a preference?"

She thought for a moment, avoiding his eyes as he stood closer to her. She could still hear the gusts outside, the blood rushing in her ears, so why did the room sound so damn quiet? "I've been sightseeing in the dunes already," she mumbled. He agreed while momentarily fixing the alignment of their provisions, Sakura stole a glace when he wasn't looking. Scarf around his neck, goggles with a bulky utility belt, his stained and wind-worn cloak covering him; he looked nearly the same as he did that day, yet even more…alluring. "What else is out west?"

Gaara smirked, feeling her heart race through his sand, the familiar burn of her gaze on him, and glimpsed up to catch her staring. "Plenty." Indeed, he already had several places in mind. One in particular was just where he needed to go, in fact, and if he were lucky, he may even be able to move along that favor from Baki sooner than he had hoped. "The storm should have passed by now; I can take you to the canyons. You'll like it."

Sakura had been anticipating that he would teleport them, the mention of canyons sounded like it guaranteed that, but would he touch her like before? She had so freely allowed that closeness with him without a consideration for anything more, could she still do so with feelings like these? How had he been interpreting her actions this whole time? Somehow, her thoughts felt heavy. "Yeah?" she breathed, heart suddenly thumping in her chest now that the moment was upon her.

"Hm," he hummed, observing the somewhat distant look on her face. "Ready?"

Rather than playing coy – as he had half expected – Sakura met his gaze, a tepid sort of willpower holding him there as she lifted the hood over her head, the fabric slouching around the scarf, locks of her pastel hair spilling from the sides. Her voice was quiet and smooth, crawling up his spine when she asked, "Still think it looks good?"

He couldn't speak for a moment and his throat felt dry as he swallowed. The truth of how enticing she was, inspiring an unspoken desire within him, making his thoughts do reckless things, it all threatened to spill from his tongue. Cutting through the silence around them, Gaara cracked a knuckle. "Yes," he agreed, saying so flatly.

She didn't respond, though she did dip her nose into the scarf; a blush crossing her cheeks that she was attempting to hide.

As if reflexively, he reached for her, an invitation that she hadn't the history of refusing until this morning, and he didn't appear to be expecting her refusal again. His voice was low when he spoke, invoking that same prickling in her skin. "Come here."

Her first step was taken before she had even noticed and his reaction was immediate. Quickly, too quickly, she was close enough to hear that his breathing sounded unsteady, to feel his warmth as he pulled her against him, his grip closing around her waist. It was such a deliberate sort of touch, and Sakura tried to recall if this was right. Something about this – something about him – felt different than before.

Her pulse throbbed in her throat, her stomach felt knotted, and her cheeks were still hot. "How far?" she asked, blurting out the question.

Gaara inhaled slowly, noticing the undertone of mint in her scent, before he replying, "Farther then you've been." Sand began to move along the floor, wafting up in silent, drifting tendrils. He maintained his composure, thrilling as it was to have her like this again, and ignored the temptation of perhaps convincing her to stay here where he'd found her.

"Won't it take a while?" Her voice was overlaid with the soft shuffling of the sand, though anyone outside the flurry wouldn't have heard her. Buzzing, tingling, a novelty sort of numbness, and she began to feel weightless, the void taking her. Sakura's heart skipped; she gripped his cloak like her legs were disappearing under her.

"It'll be quick," he promised, inviting himself to squeeze her just a little tighter. Even with the layers of cloak between them, she felt so good to hold.

When the bedroom began to fall away, all Sakura could see was a fading glow of the light, and all she could hear was her heartbeat thrumming in her ears. Every other sensation was consumed by the waves crashing against her, by the arid scent of the sand filling each breath.

Then they were gone, ethereal and carried on the wind.

愛愛愛

The moon glowed brightly overhead, now unobstructed by the clouds swept along by the passing gales, and streaks of shadow fell over the land of rock spires and tiered gorges. The canyons, as one of Wind Country's most secluded yet breathtaking attractions, announced themselves with a sudden upward thrust from the Basin's sea of sand before eroding down into the earth. Tall spires of rock – the leftovers of old mountains layered with the colors of the eons – commanded the horizon for miles around; a truly alien landscape. The blustering winds may have faded, but there was a gentle breeze through the silent columns of stone, whispers of an ancient world, and it was on its back that a lone spiral of sand floated up from the ground.

The open air of the desert was indeed cold, but it was considerably preferable over the bite of the dry wind. Sakura hardly noticed it, though. Once released from the whirlwind, standing untold miles from where they'd been, Sakura found herself clutched within Gaara's grasp all the same. He hadn't let her go yet, and her cloak was starting to feel warm.

She stepped back and took a breath of the cold, dry air. There wasn't much for a sense of time within that desolate abyss, but she felt compelled to gasp as if starved for oxygen. The brisk air nearly seized her lungs, and she swallowed passed the tightness in her throat before regaining control over her breathing. "Where are we?" she asked, scanning the environment of stone and shadows.

"The Jerobi Canyons," Gaara answered. The earth beneath his feet resonated as the sand he carried permeated the ground, becoming homogenous and nearly untraceable against the shallow ripples of sand covering the foot-worn pathway.

Good…Gaara thought; the ground remained undisturbed, just as his father had left it.

He saturated the earth with his senses and soaked deep into the layers of sediment below, his perception streaked with veins that were indiscernible to him, metals that he could not command. With some discretion, he commanded the sand to ensnare a small nodule of the metal, consuming it into the void that only surfaced within in his hand beneath his cloak. He rolled the metal between his fingers, the size was all right, and tucked it in his utility belt along with the papers he'd been given from Baki.

Sakura drew her arms around her under the cloak, thoughtlessly grazing her waist. She could still feel his touch. "Where about?"

He had to think about that and looked off somewhere to the east. "Eighty-five miles or so west from where I found you in the Basin," he estimated, thinking again before adding, "Little to the north."

They had come to a location that his father had shown him, to a beacon point that Gaara had left here about two years ago shortly after Rasa's death. It was a good place to have a lifeline when struck by the unexpected. Geographically, the canyons and crumbling mountains bridged the gap between the southern and northern shore lands of Wind Country, a passage that – while still traitorous – had preference over the open sands of the Basin. The nomads had a habit of calling these lands Death's Valley, and it did well enough at keeping Jerobi a relatively hidden gem. Truthfully, though, the canyons could shelter from the milder weather and there was some form of water here year-round.

Additionally, and not wanting to let such luck go uncounted, they were not alone out here this night, and their company was conveniently closer than he was hoping they'd be.

"How long did that take us?"

"It wasn't long," he reassured her. "I've gotten faster."

"I'm sure." He smirked. "Just let me know when we need to go." Her feet were wandering down the path, eyes scanning the colored bandings of rock washed out and made pale by the moonlight.

Gaara paused before following her, appreciating the way she moved slowly into the spires of stone, phasing in and out of the shadows cutting through the light. A few more steps and she would slip around the corner, out of sight within the maze of passageways and cliffs, and it was this that finally compelled him forward.

"We've got all night," he said, allowing himself to linger a few paces back while he continued to observe and admire.

Sakura was silent as she meandered through the strange spires of rock, her feet taking them down a shallow slope that led to an old dried-up riverbed. The trail had forked a time or two as they walked, bypassing narrow gulches that attempted to draw one off the main path as she aimlessly led the way. Gaara wasn't sure if the passages were just that obvious even to an outsider, or if maybe something in the ground called out to her, remnants of old footprints guiding her along; either way, this was precisely where he was hoping to lead her.

A fallen stone had caught her eye along the way, standing out amongst the jagged fractures of canyon rock littering the ground. It was oddly smooth compared to the fragments around it, slightly smaller than her fist, with a dark ridgeling splitting the stone. She stopped to pick it up. It was well-rounded in shape, however ovular, and she rolled it between her hands. Free from under the cloak, the gold on her wrist briefly glinted in the pale light.

"Found something?" Gaara asked. She turned to face him, holding her hood against a wafting of the breeze weaving through the rocks, and offered to show him. When she placed the stone in his hand, he overreached just a bit, his fingertips brushing against her wrist, gently snagging the bracelet as she pulled away.

Her hand was back beneath the cloak quickly enough, muttering, "It's just a rock."

The stone resonated enough with him that it must've been composed of some silica or sandstone mixture, but the resonance stopped somewhere in the center. Rolling it in his palm, he wasn't so sure this was just a rock.

"You've got a good eye." This garnered a curious look from her. He passed over the textured surface with his thumb and – stone before, sand after – he began wiping away the layers.

"Yeah?" Sakura asked, peering over as the shedding sand trickled from his hand.

Looking down at the surface he'd flattened, he wiped the last of the sand from the cervices before remarking, "Picked up a good one."

She was a closer now, curiously trying to see. "What is it?"

Gaara didn't give it to her though, and she was surprised when he avoided her reach. "Not yet," he said before adding the contingency, "Let me see your wrist."

Sakura froze, her eyes locked with his, and she cautiously asked, "Why?"

"Humor me," he insisted, enjoying the way he could see her thoughts behind each hesitant movement to compose herself and present her wrist.

The bracelet glinted against her pale skin when she presented it, choosing not to question that look in his eyes when he smirked.

With a gentle hand and a touch slightly chilled from the air, he slipped his fingers under the bangle, grazing her more deliberately as he rolled it against his thumb. Sakura glanced away, brow furrowing, her goosebumps were back. Able to hold it for a moment, Gaara infused just a little extra chakra into the sand, no longer keeping it together by willpower alone, but compacting it into a stonelike solid loop.

"What are you doing?" Sakura asked, her tone still cautious.

It faintly vibrated in his touch, the gold tint shimmering as it realigned itself with the refined structure of the sand. "Fixing it, or it could have fallen apart."

"Oh…" The band felt slimmer now, smoother, and reflected a fine polish.

"That should do," he said, satisfied with his results. Reluctant to let her go, he spun the bracelet once around her wrist as if to inspect the unbroken band, and savored each soft brush her skin before placing her rock face down into her awaiting palm.

She didn't look at it right away, instead gazing at the bracelet with a quizzical look in her eyes. "It would have broken after I left?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Could have."

Examining it still, Sakura slid the bracelet up her wrist and sure enough, the radius had shrunk ever so slightly. Attempting to remove it might be difficult.

"Do you not like it?"

She thought he sounded upset and compulsively stumbled, "Huh? No. I just – I was just checking." The bracelet was already going cold in the open air and when she touched it, it felt firm as metal. "It won't come off?"

"No. Not unless you break that one, too."

Sakura blushed, now purposefully looking away from him and frowning. She didn't like being reminded of her emotional outbursts, let alone that one. "Whatever," she huffed, distracting herself with the glittering hoop around her wrist, asking, "How did you get it to look like gold? It's so shiny."

"It is gold."

"What?" Sakura gasped, a slight uptick in her tone of voice. "You're joking."

Gaara glanced to her other hand, still holding the small stone he'd given back to her. It seems she'd been easily distracted by something that glimmered. "It's made from the sand in our front garden," he explained. "I imagine there's quite a bit mixed in there."

"Gold," she repeated, deadpan.

"Gold dust," he clarified, nonchalant. "My father commanded Magnet Release over it. For a while, it was all over the house."

Indulged as she was with the thought that he'd sculpted her a bracelet carrying a Kage's gold, she also could have laughed in disbelief, asking, "Should I even have this?"

Gaara actually did chuckle a little, quite humored with her question. "He's not using it, consider it my inheritance."

"Well, I didn't know it was–" she began to say, staring at her wrist before starting again, "I shouldn't take–"

"Sakura." The abruptness of her name ceasing her rambling. "Look at your rock."

As she was told, she turned the rock over in her hand, the flattened surface of the sandstone reveling a dark spiral of consecutive ridges uncovered from within. "Oh…" She lightly traced the swirling bumps with her fingertips: an ammonite fossil. Sakura grinned. "First try."

"Beginner's luck," Gaara jested in return.

She was going to say something smart in response, continue the banter with him maybe, but was cut off by a low and guttural bellowing that reverberated through the passages of winding cliffs. It echoed around them, origins somewhere unseen in the distance, and it was followed quickly by another in a ghastly cacophony.

Whirling around to face the noise, Sakura gasped and took a step back, these sounds shockingly unfamiliar to her, and blurted out "What the hell is that?"

She'd nearly backed straight into him, and he was almost wishing that she had. Hands up to steady her shoulders, his voice was at her ear when he spoke. "Camels." He though it odd that it had been quiet for so long, and the bellows echoing through the air weren't a surprise to Gaara; they were just the reason for his luck. "There's a herd down the path."

She managed not to back into him outright, but she hadn't escaped the sudden jolting of her heart at the disturbingly foreign sound. "Huh," she huffed with a breath. "Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," he hummed, glancing down at her. He felt he stood taller over her than he used to and couldn't recall her feeling this slender in his hands before. His thumb lightly grazed over the cloak at her shoulder. "Want to see?"

"Well…" Sakura muttered. She didn't move away, suppressing a chill when she felt another light stroke of his thumb. "Are they wild?"

"There's herdsmen with them," he said, stepping aside from her and starting off down the path before asking, "Couldn't you tell?"

Sakura pursed her lips and defiantly stood in place as she slipped her rock into an inside pocket of the cloak. "I wasn't really looking," she said, her tone unbothered though now she was certainly broadening her perception to decipher the location of the herd. Sure enough, there was a faint chakra signature, nothing very developed, farther down the canyon trail and well enough below them, too. "And I've told you how overwhelming you can be," she reminded him, feeling it necessary to blame him for being just a little distracting.

"You flatter me," he said, a smirk on his face.

Chewing the inside of her lip, she also felt compelled to add with a mumble, "I assumed we'd be alone out here."

"Were you hoping so?" Gaara was starting to appreciate that his years of listening to Kankuro had given him an edge in teasing her.

She took a moment to respond, perhaps measuring her temper with him, and walked down the trail to follow. "You're just jealous of my rock."

"I must be," he agreed, pleased with himself that he'd caused her to laugh a little.

There wasn't much left to the trail from here, and soon their narrow path opened up to a shallow stone trench, the dry riverbed they followed spilling sand over the side of a tall, vertical cliff. Small shingles of eroded rock tumbled town from Sakura's footsteps, dropping down below as a wide-open view welcomed her in the sky.

The night sky was speckled with pinholes of light, the stars – appearing in their millions – were like a splattering of gems across a velvety black backdrop. Boldly glowing anchor points of constellations, the swirling archways of star clusters, the illuminous brilliance of the pearly moon; familiar yet underappreciated when lost under the glow of the city. Now facing the true breadth of the canyons, Sakura stood atop the edge of a great valley. Miles wide against the horizon, carved by wind, rain, and flood, she was trivial in the face of its immensity. From the trail, she climbed out to a slight overhang curling around the canyon bend to a space where she could look out as if floating above the land below. A gust kicked up the side of the canyon, throwing her hood back and blowing the heavy fabric of the cloak.

"Wow, it's…" she muttered, breathless. "Wow."

Approaching behind her, Gaara joined her to admire the painted canyons and the stary desert sky. Magnificent, just like always. The quiet, the stillness, the way that time felt skewed amidst the stone; it had always enticed him with offerings of seclusion and escape from all that had tormented him. Had his life turned out different, he might have answered that call, and what a beautiful escape it would have been. Never had he imagined enjoying a view like this with another person, let along with someone like her, and he wondered how it was that she fit perfectly against the backdrop of the desert where he found her.

He enjoyed the way the bright sun painted dustings of pink across her skin, how the smoldering heat captured the way she glowed. But just as well, the starlight caught the paleness of her hair with a silvery sheen and turned the greens of her eyes into the most vibrant color around. It was becoming all too tempting to think that perhaps the desert was meant for her.

Perhaps…she was meant for the desert.

The camels were sounding off again and, with a tap of his hand against her, he pulled her attention from the stars. "Look," he said, gesturing down the sloping edge of the cliff. "They're down at the water."

Sure enough, outshined by the expanse of the sky, there was the fluttering glow of a small campfire in the valley. There were more winding layers of the wide gorge down below, and between them sparkled a shallow trickling of water. The stream darkened the stone in its path, swirling around sloping mounds of eroded earth until it disappeared around a bend, toward the small fire that burned out of sight, and sat at the edge of that glow was a grouping of the camels. There were a surprising number of them lounging near the water, all covered in satchels and rugs, adorned with tassels and tethered to a tie line that lay on the ground between them.

"Aw," Sakura sighed, spying the smaller young among the herd. "So cute."

Gaara grimaced, unsure if cute were the right word to describe one of these rugged creatures up close. "Maybe when they're young."

Sakura slid farther along the edge of the canyon cliff, exposing herself to the open air and the drop below – easily over two hundred feet of sheer cliff and crumbling rock – all for a better look.

His eyes fell to her ankle, an old injury that he knew still bothered her even if she failed to admit so. He knew better than to assume she'd slip, but even so, these overhangs had a history of giving way within a moment. "Careful," he found himself mumbling, his trust in her not completely outweighing his concern.

"Are they going somewhere?" she asked. The breeze drifting up from below was catching the loose strands of her hair.

"The caravans, likely," he answered, joining her perched along the thin ledge overlooking the wider valley below. "They gather this time of year, that's why Niko left. The herdsmen will travel there and sell their stock when the clans are in one spot."

"All the way across the west desert?" she questioned. "Where I was?"

Gaara nodded, arms folded beneath his cloak, back rested against the cliff face behind them. "The Basin is not an easy journey by any means, but the nomads and herdsmen are better suited to it than most." He peered over at her, thoughtfully observing that, "They'd likely have been impressed by your tenacity for survival."

A triumphant little smirk was his response.

"It's usually the young men that will go," he added. "Every year someone makes the journey for the first time, their navigation and herdsmanship are tested at a young age out here."

Sakura paused, brow furrowed as she stared at the glow of the fire on sandstone, listening into the echoing grunts of the camels. "Alone?"

"Some of the experienced family typically goes with them."

"But…there's only one."

"Hm." Gaara could feel the presence of all the life against the stone ground: the camels, the spiders, the scorpions, but only one man was sat by the fire. "Indeed."

Sakura glanced around. The canyons seemed quiet enough now, but hadn't the windstorm come through here? It had sounded rather intense against the walls of the house at times, and had likely been even more so out here. "I wonder if he's okay," she murmured to herself before glancing at Gaara and asking, "Should we check on him?"

Considering this, he wondered if this could be his chance to strike a deal. He wanted to be rid of these papers as soon as possible, but he was pretty rusty and was unsure of how well he'd be up to the challenge. "That might be difficult."

She scoffed, feet already moving beneath her, punctuating her words with the scattering of the broken rocks. "How could it be?" Before she allowed him to answer, she stepped over the edge of the cliff, feet skidding down the vertical rock as she left a plume of dust in her wake. The sound she made cut the silence of the canyon in two.

He'd watched her tip herself over the edge, shaking his head as she slipped out of sight. "Brash," he muttered to himself. "Love that." Lost to the wispy cloud of dust, he vanished from the upper ledge of the cliff only to appear at its base several stories below.

Sakura had already come to a stop and the camels sat by the river had raised their heads to look at the disturbance she'd made. Discretion wasn't her goal, it would be better if the herdsman was aware of her presence. "Hello?" she called out, approaching the shallow water of the stream. It was wider than it appeared from the ledge, but it couldn't have flowed more than a few inches deep.

"Wait," Gaara called out, following closely after her. "Sakura–"

"Excuse me?" she called out again, her question echoing back to them in the bowl of the valley.

From behind a spire across the water, a young man dressed in a thickly woven blanket draped over his tanned robes stepped into view. He wore a headscarf that appeared a little crooked, like he'd fallen asleep next to the fire with it, and clutched a tall staff the herdsmen commonly used for their trade.

Sakura raised a hand, displaying herself as empty of threats. Gaara could agree that even casually as they appeared, she was the more approachable one between them, though it likely wasn't getting her far. "Hello," she greeted, her voice light and melodic. "Sorry to bother you, but we just–"

"Kan mui?" the young man spoke abruptly, cutting her off.

She paused. "Excu–"

"Mari-leh, ke abaalti–" the man continued with a furrowed brow and large gestures, shouting something that she quickly lost in the echoes it created. The camels began to stir and a few of them along the tie line stood up and shook themselves, their tassels and satchels jingling as they grunted.

At first, she was uncertain if she'd simply misheard him but quickly realized that he had spoken another language. "Oh, um–"

"It's all right," Gaara said quietly to her as he passed ahead, addressing the tense man standing by his herd. "Hu-lai!" Spoken clearly, his greeting gained him the young man's full attention.

It had been a long time since he had encountered someone that spoke the tongue of the western herdsmen, and even longer since he'd last had to speak it himself, but Gaara was sure he could remember enough to mostly get by. The young man responded to his greeting in kind, so at least he was on the right track. Stepping out onto the rippling surface of the stream, he made a gesture to himself and Sakura; she was able to catch their names and the mention of Suna, telling the herdsman they were shinobi.

The young man looked at her again, looking her up and down, and then returned his focus to Gaara with another quick rattle of words she didn't understand.

From the looks of it, Gaara had to think about what he'd said as well. His response was hesitant and choppy, the words felt unnatural after so long, and he'd had to point to the east to better explain himself. The man asked a question, repeating something that Gaara had said, and it sounded like he agreed. His response to this was a thump of his fist against his chest and a single statement.

"Orok."

Sakura tentatively asked, "Is everything okay?"

"I think so," Gaara said, motioning for her to cross the stream with him. "I told him we were scouts and he's given us his name."

Orok said something else, repeating it to Gaara several time before he could manage to convey his limited understanding of the language. Orok instead pointed at the fire and looked between them before snagging a bundle from the nearest camel and holding it up. "Fiya? Se ke hadir?"

Sakura asked what he was doing, as he had moved on to twisting the top off a jar, presenting them with what appeared to be honey.

"Offering trade," Gaara answered. "Scouts typically trade supplies with herdsman and nomads, keeps us friendly." He spoke to the young herdsman again, sounding like he was refusing Orok's offer in his native tongue.

With a shrug, Orok set down the provisions before swatting a camel's nose away from the jar.

Gaara continued to speak, slowly working through what could only be the most broken sentence this young man had heard in his life, but at least Orok seemed patient. Attempting to ask if Orok was alone, he'd recalled the words for individuals and groups, some of the many words they had for travel, and familial titles as well; this seemed to get his point across.

Orok shook his head, now holding the staff as if lounging against it rather than clutching it in defense, and responded to Gaara in a rather mild cadence. His speech, however, hadn't slowed at all. Through the blended string of words, he was able to pick out a common nomadic word for wind – of which they had over twenty – and the mention of a brother. Asking a question about his brother, Orok's response to him was an annoyed snap at the camels and what Sakura could easily tell was a consecutive line of cusses punctuated with a spiteful kick of sand in the animal's direction.

They simply grunted and turned away from him. Sakura began to chuckle. "Jeeze, what did they do to him?"

"Sounds like the windstorm kicked up a sand cloud in the canyon, must've separated one of their camels. I think he sent his brother out to find it, sounds like it may be his first year."

"Do you think he needs help?" Gaara shook his head. "But you said he could be young…"

Still, he refused. "This is their way," Gaara reminded her. "If it be a test of his capabilities, it would be wrong of us to intervene."

Sakura thinned her lips, looking further out into the valley. She was searching the vastness of the canyon spires for movement, listening to the stillness for sounds of life. Maybe she could feel something farther out. However, all that answered her was a startling snort from behind, blowing her hair as hot breath abruptly ghosted over her neck. She yelped and whipped around to face the large animal that had stretched a curious nose out to her, giving her a sniff as it chewed something.

A long face with droopy jowls stared back at her and she glared sternly into its glossy black eyes. With a shiver, she rubbed the mild wetness the camel's breath had left on her neck. "No."

Orok chuckled something to Gaara and pointed at her. "Unlowdi, bona da vi!"

"He thinks it likes you."

Sakura rolled her eyes and, although she still had a soured look on her face, she held a hand out to the beast. Allowing it to sniff her, and attempting to ignore its pungent musk, she only grimaced a little when its prehensile and strangely velvety lips mushed against her palm.

Stepping up the shallow embankment from the creek bed, Gaara approached Orok, doing his best to inquire where he was headed. Orok pointed east, mentioning the northern strip of the Basin and something about Suna. Gaara recited some nomadic monikers for the clans he knew to be gathering in the east, pointing briefly at the camels. Orok nodded. Just as Gaara had predicted; the herd was traveling to meet the caravans, intending to sell their stock before the end of season, and Niko's caravan was expected to be among them.

Gaara held open his cloak and reached for a pocket on his belt, willfully displaying his lack of weaponry to the lone herdsman. Out from the pocket, he pulled the papers given to him by Baki and the metal he had taken from the ground upon their arrival. In the flickering glow of the campfire, a little nugget of gold no bigger than a coin flashed in his hand.

"Ku-Ami," he spoke between them, repeating the name of Niko's clan's caravan, unfolding the paper and pointing to her name at the top. Orok glanced over it before disregarding the papers – he couldn't read most of the common tongue, anyway – and nodded toward the gold in his hand. He had a flatter look on his face now, less jovial, and had ceased his bemusement over Sakura acquainting with the camels. It was a typical response when gold came into play out here, and Gaara had been hoping that he would be easily swayed by it.

For the sake of business, he kept it brief.

Orok donned a reserved look when he appeared to consider the offer, sucking his teeth when he studied the payment before glancing up at Gaara. Seeing that he wouldn't be reconsidering, Orok eventually shrugged.

With just three words, Gaara had struck himself a deal: the papers, to Niko, for the gold.

The camels were snorting at Sakura again when Gaara slipped the items to Orok. She had noticed their exchange, but obviously hadn't understood what had been said, however few words had passed between them. She also noticed when Orok held something between his fingers in the firelight, the uneven surface of it just barely reflecting the flames.

She wondered, had he brought something for the herdsman?

Orok then said something to Gaara, waving him along closer to where his personal belongings laid out by the small fire, and Sakura watched as he picked up a large satchel and rummaged through it.

He pulled out a scroll, facing an embroidered band at him before Gaara held up a hand to refuse. Undeterred, Orok then grabbed a corked vase, likely filled with precious liquid of sorts, that Gaara also refused. He tried to speak but was cut off by the herdsman each time. Finally, flashing in the glow of the flames, Orok presented an ornamental dagger with a sheath wrapped in intricate silver weaving. He pulled the blade out halfway, the sharpened edge catching a quick flash of the moon.

Gaara paused just long enough to maybe consider it before eventually rejecting the ornamental piece as well.

Sakura stifled a giggle, quite entertained with his predicament. She scratched the soft fur behind a camel's ear, slobber flicking from its jowls as it chewed in delight. Orok had been right; one of them did like her, and it was probably thanks to the citrus shampoo she had used. However, it appeared that making herself approachable had emboldened more of the herd to meander closer for a look, and they were much bigger up close than they had looked from the cliff.

Suddenly, above the curious humming and grunting from the herd, a high-pitched cry rang out from the seemingly empty canyon, followed by a young voice repeating some of those cusses they'd heard from Orok just a few moments ago.

In response to this, a camel at the end of the tie line quickly stood and began pacing, bellowing deeply as steam rose from its mouth. Orok whistled sharply toward the camel, shouting at it.

A little way down the canyon, hobbling around a spire, a young boy could be seen. He had the same plain fabric in his attire, though the patterned band on his headscarf was a different color than his brother's, and instead of a woven blanket over his shoulders he held the lanky legs of a juvenile camel. Middle of the night, guided only by moonlight through the canyons, it looked like he could hardly manage the size of the young animal, and he couldn't have looked a day over ten years of age.

"Gaara! Unlowdi!" Orok exclaimed, pointing off toward his younger brother approaching from the trail. He was insisting something, repeating the same word to him even as he shook his head and stepped away to rejoin Sakura.

When Gaara approached her, he leaned in to speak quietly. "Say goodbye," he instructed, Orok still sounding off behind them. "It's time to go."

Taking full advantage of the situation while he had it, Orok pointed to Sakura, calling her name as well – it sounded different through his accent – and he repeated the same thing he'd said to Gaara.

Sakura glanced curiously over to the herdsman, catching his eye and following along as he pointed down the canyon with insistent excitement. "What is he saying?" she asked, patting the camel once more before trying to shoo it away.

"He's trying to sell us the camel."

Sakura huffed out a laugh. "The baby?"

"Yes," Gaara sighed, unamused with the persistent bartering. "The one that ran away." He waved behind him, calling back to Orok with another flat refusal, himself instead repeating the name of Niko's caravan.

Orok chuckled, holding up his hands in defeat. "Ku-Ami," he agreed, sending them off with a common nomadic solute.

Nodding once over his shoulder, Gaara ushered Sakura from the camels and they began to cross back over the shallow creek. He placed an arm behind her, his hand lightly resting against her lower back. "Satisfied with checking?" he asked, his voice was low and hushed as he spoke between them.

Sakura peeked back across the river. Orok was in the firelight, crouched down by the flames and holding that small object in his hands again. He was turning it in the light, observing what Sakura presumed to be a gold nugget; her bracelet had glinted the same way.

"Yes," she replied, thoughts starting to drift. Upon her words, the sand picked up in the absence of the breeze, blowing over the water to swirl around them. "We can go."

…

There was more of a breeze when sitting on the ledge overlooking the vastness of the canyon, and Sakura pulled her knees in close, tucking her toes under the cloak with her.

Gaara and brought them a few miles away, somewhere downstream from the where the herdsmen were. Now several hundred feet into the canyons belly, they presently sat right at the precipice of where the stream spilled from the upper canyon floor and plummeted hundreds of feet below, misting out into the air as it went. She had thought the canyon she walked out to earlier was expansive, what with its wide-open sky and the tall rock spires dwarfing the camels that had gathered there, but if that be a tributary, this be a river.

Upon arriving, she'd been quiet while taking in the true breadth of the canyon, letting a long silence pass between them before finally speaking. How far, was all that she had managed to ask.

The canyon's main river, the Nu-Auli, stretched nearly three hundred miles from source to salt water, carving out the canyons and gulleys as it went. At its widest, the maw of jagged stone spanned twelve miles, and it's deepest, it plummeted over five thousand feet, down to where the Nu-Auli ran through the canyon's gullet. The layers of rock just kept going; waves of ribbons dancing along the cliff face, layered stacks of color making up every stone spire, and Sakura could see down from their perch, down into the depths of the canyon, into the eons of the past.

Within the warmth of her cloak cocoon, she thumbed over the fossil, pondering where she'd found it near the top of the canyon, and wondered what else might be down there buried under millennia of sediment.

The night had been a beautiful one: the stars were dazzling in their speckled display, the lands of Jerobi were breathtaking to experience with such ease, and the moon brightly illuminated a silvery side of the desert she hadn't yet seen. She felt reminiscent to the wonder of her first time in Suna, amazed by its majesty, dwarfed by its immensity. Something about it breathed life into her.

I can take you to the canyons, Gaara had said, you'll like it.

Sakura peered over at Gaara, observing him briefly before looking back out to the canyon in thought.

Reclined against the rock beside her, he had been lounging rather comfortably against the hard, uneven ground – quite use to it after his years of traveling through the deep country – placidly watching the night go by. He hadn't mentioned the herdsmen since leaving them but Sakura had checked just to be sure. Now, they truly were alone.

She chewed the inside of her lip, flipping her fossil in her hands. "Thanks for doing this." When spoken, her voice was quieter than she thought it would be, and she discretely swallowed.

Gaara glanced over at her though he couldn't see her face behind the hood. She hadn't spoken for a long time, but he could tell she'd been thinking of something. "I promised," he reminded her.

Sakura couldn't help but smile softly. Yes, he had promised. "Where else did you have in mind?" she asked then.

He shrugged, looking back out to the canyon below, nudging a stone over the ledge. It echoed as it tumbled down into the deep. Taking out his canteen and uncapping it, he said, "The shorelands are nice, they're even farther west than here, though. Hara-Lai is up at the northern edge of the Basin, one of the larger oases. I imagine it's been busy recently." Gaara took a drink from the cold water. "You said west, as well, so the Ketra Ruins were off the table."

She thought maybe she remembered him saying something about the faraway beaches and springs of water amidst the parched sand, something about myths and spirits. It all seemed so magical and far away back then and, when coaxing a promise from him in the quiet of an early morning, she hadn't dreamed of actually seeing it through.

"Hm," she hummed, considering his words, considering the small piece of gold he'd given Orok.

Distance hadn't deterred him, given that they currently sat an estimated one hundred forty miles from the city, and the presence of the herdsmen hadn't bothered him either, it was as if he'd been ready for them. She had asked that he choose where to take her, and he had chosen somewhere very specific. Hidden behind the deep hood of the cloak, Sakura furrowed her brow as she scanned the landscape below.

"Was there…" she started, remembering how quickly that exchange had taken place between he and Orok: within moments, the gold had changed hands. "A reason you took me here?"

"Come on," he chuckled, sounding like he was teasing her again. "Trying to tell me you don't like it?"

Looking down to where the pouring stream drifted away on the wind within lower canyon, she didn't take the bait, instead taking a contemplative pause before she spoke. "You knew they were going to be here."

The way he peered at her went unnoticed; an apprehensive look, and one that didn't favor the turn in her tone. A drink from his canteen offered a convenient moment to think. Considering denial, he had his own reasons for taking her to the canyons, ones he had been advised against needlessly mentioning, and he ultimately pled the case of coincidence. "And?" he asked, the edge of teasing lingering on his voice, navigating more carefully now. "Herdsmen are always around here this time of year."

Sakura took a breath. Where she had reserved herself before, she emboldened herself now, asking flatly, "What did you trade for?"

Gaara looked away with a shallow grimace. Not that he'd deliberately gone out of his way to hide his actions, he just hadn't wanted to discuss it. This sudden turn in conversation had him wishing she would just be happy with being taken somewhere scenic and befriending a camel. "Nothing," he answered, remaining somewhat truthful yet entirely dodgy.

Sakura wasn't convinced, and she felt the urge to press him. His tone was a familiar one, casual and easy, but dismissive just as well; same as he'd been before running off to meet someone. He hadn't told her that either. It only made her think: why could he not trust her? Why even bring her if he had to be secretive?

"You gave him gold for nothing." she concluded, doubtful when she briefly faced him. Gaara didn't respond, though the air about him had gone a little tense. Sakura huffed as she dipped her chin into the scarf, a disappointed pout on her lips. Out of sight, he could feel her press her fingers against the gold band on her wrist. "And here I was feeling special."

Gaara looked over to her, brow furrowed in annoyance at her antics. She made it a point to pout and sound so meek and dejected; he'd have to answer to that.

"I just," he began, Baki's words of warning ringing in his head. Again, they would be disregarded. "Bought a favor."

Sakura drew her bottom lip between her teeth, gently biting it in thought, waiting while she watched the canyons. She should have known better than to waste time waiting, however, Gaara had always been a man of few words. "You're not going to tell me?"

Gaara's annoyance turn into a shallow scowl, sighing with a slow, measured exhale.

He hadn't considered anything he'd done to be particularly dubious but, clearly, he had somehow upset her and it was truly frustrating. He wasn't accustomed to people digging into his personal business and he rarely spoke to his actions and reasoning voluntarily; it never fared him well in the past. Replying to her letters was one matter, having her pry in person was another entirely. But she was different than those to come before her, the things he wanted from her were different, so his approach may as well be different, too.

"He mentioned the caravans so I asked if he planned to do business with Ku-Ami clan," he said, keeping his tone even. He could be forthcoming, but he chose to remain selective about the details. Old habits, it would appear, really did die hard. "Niko will be there and I had something for her. Thought I'd save myself the trip."

A hallow answer, yet more than she had initially expected, but she really could've scoffed at him. Save himself the trip? When he took them all this way in under an hour? She'd seen the papers as well, did he have a grudge against carrier birds? There was a bit of amusement in her voice when she asked him, "You paid him solid gold to send your mail?"

Gaara chuckled, it certainly did sound ridiculous, but he welcomed the way her voice resonated as if she had smiled even though he couldn't see. "If you have no trade – which we don't," he felt the need to remind her; as he'd only brought their water and she'd only brought her lovely self. "Then you have to pay. Nothing comes without a price. Speaking of." He tapped the back of his hand against her, she glanced back at him, and he joked that, "Translators don't come cheap out here, you know."

Sakura laughed, half humored and half embarrassed. "I didn't think he'd speak a different language," she admitted, glad to have the scarf and the hood to hide most of her flushed cheeks.

"The Land of Wind recognizes twenty-three official languages," Gaara said, snapping a small shard of fallen canyon in half and tossing it over the edge. "The regional dialects easily triple that." Left unsaid was how the nomadic nature of the countrymen blended so much of the languages that they all sort of piggybacked off each other, with most that one might encounter on the trails employing a diverse set of vocabulary. But that didn't sound as impressive.

Sakura pondered over how he'd stepped forward with a pensive sort of confidence in his linguistics. He sounded so different when he spoke the nomadic tongue, looked different as well when amidst the camels covered in their wares and tradesmen selling their lot. Being there, standing awkwardly to the side like a true outsider, she was reminded that the mystical world of the desert was still foreign and closed off to her.

When she spoke, her voice reflected some of that melancholy. "I wasn't expecting you to know it, either."

"Come on," Gaara scoffed, nonchalant. "I've been scouting for over a year and a half; you pick it up."

Facing him, Sakura caught his eye from where he relaxed against the sloped rock; hood down to the cold desert air, his red hair washed out by the moon and blown by the wind. Her heart began to beat a little funny again.

What would her mentors think of her? Questioning how far she had allowed him to take her, how lost she'd be without him, and how much trust she'd blindly given him; all likely. Here sat the man that wrongfully sieged her village as well as the one that saved her from the Basin. Ally and traitor, enemy and friend; he had lived a sort life unknown to her and looked toward a future she didn't know how to fathom, and here he was now; a man she still did not know. The years felt like a blur, her past actions now reflecting their unintended outcomes and somehow, across all that time and all that distance, she had arrived here. But, where was she going?

Building up a familiar buzz of hope and longing, she continually sobered herself with cautious skepticism. She wasn't sure about any of this, not yet.

It was confusing, contradicting.

"So," she said, shaking the thought and tucking some hair out of her face. "Going from scout to Kazekage, huh?" She smiled and slightly shook her head. Even though it conjured memories of how Naruto had always brazenly claimed his pursuit of their Kage title, comparing that to the way Gaara had announced the same resulted in striking differences. She decided sarcasm was the best response. "Sounds easy enough."

"I am a sensei, as well," he said in his defense.

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Of one student."

He appeared to appreciate her banter, grinning a little as he snapped another stone and tossed it over the edge, listening to it tumble down as he muttered, "I guess we'll have to see."

"At the house, you meant you'd claim the title soon, didn't you?" she asked him, trying to decipher his actions and his words.

Gaara nodded. "How soon is debatable, but nothing happens slowly." She asked how it could be done, where would he even begin? "The council oversees all avenues of national affairs in the absence of a Kage, and a governing body cannot operate forever without its head. I've officially announced my candidacy to the council," he said – however unceremonious the announcement had been. "If half the council members are in favor, it can move ahead to deliberation provided I've got proper credentials."

A breeze wafted up the side of the open cliff, catching Sakura under her cloak and she shuddered at the sudden chill. Scooting back from where she'd been gazing over the edge, she rested with Gaara against the sloped stone behind them. "Like what?" she asked, fixing his cloak to cover her, now appreciating the extra material that had burdened her before.

Now that she was closer, he offered her his canteen and she exposed a hand just long enough to snag it. "Typical qualifiers: academics, field experience, strategy. I've got a leg up on most in field experience, that's for sure, and I was a terrible student but it wasn't for lack of comprehension." Sakura smirked and laughed a little. "The only firm requirement is citizenship and having attained a Jonin rank."

Taking a sip of the water, she contemplated that, "I can imagine it isn't easy to get all of them to a consensus on a candidate."

To her surprise, Gaara corrected, "They don't need to. It needs three-fourths of the vote to pass, so with nine members you need favorability with seven of them at the least, maybe more if Chiyo is called on to cast her say. Though, she did officially resign last year. It's meant to prevent someone from singlehandedly stonewalling a candidate no matter how many council members are active at the time."

"Do you think someone could qualify over you?" Sakura asked, taking one last drink from the canteen before handing it back to him, uncapped.

"Not likely." Between being emboldened by Baki's statement of no contest as well as his own tried and true confidence in his abilities, he hadn't left much room for doubt in himself. He took a drink of the water again before replacing the cap. He hadn't thought twice about it, but Sakura had thought she remembered him bringing two canteens; it seemed that he wasn't opposed to sharing. "It's more than that, though," Gaara continued. "The people have a say that written laws don't account for. The position exists because of them, for them, they have to want me in it. There's no point to what I'm trying to do if they don't."

Sakura looked down, eyes roaming over the tattered cloak he took on missions, the worn waistbelt that had been through multiple repairs, weighed down by years of heavy supplies and constant use. Maybe he was right, ego aside, and there was no one that could qualify over him. Or at least, qualify and continue to do so the stronger that he became. "What if the people want someone else?" she ventured to ask.

Gaara paused, surprised at her broaching such a sensitive subject with him, but contemplated the question all the same. "Well…" he said after a moment, spoken on a decisive sigh. "They'd still have to fight me for it."

She fully grinned then, the same bright and crooked way she did when she first came to the city. He was happy to humor her, bemused with the way she would banter with him. He observed the small distance she'd left between them, tempted to close the gap.

"Feeling lucky?" she asked through her smile. "Or will you make a pact with a Jinn?"

Sliding down from the inclined rock, he rested his back against the sandstone ground. With one foot stretching out past the overhang, and his head propped comfortably on an arm, he looked up to watch the sky. Thinking of it now, he wasn't so sure. Perhaps maybe, in his own strange way, he had in fact struck a deal long ago, unknown to him and before he had even taken first breath. "I don't know, Sakura," he said, matching her tone with a jeer of his. "Who says I haven't?"

Sakura laughed, thinking his response to her joke was incredulous. "Oh, come on."

Gaara shrugged with a sort of lackadaisical apathy. "Know how many times they've tried to kill me?" Sakura's grin dimmed a little, she chose not to respond. "Me neither," he lied, having well kept count over the years. "But here I am, not a scar to show for it. The ANBU doing my father's dirty work, the council saving face for him so I would still fall in line, it was all because he didn't think he could do it either. If my old man couldn't put me down at fifteen–" Sakura's blood flashed cold for moment. "–then maybe I do have a pact with a Jinn, just one by a different name."

"Yeah?" she murmured quietly. It astounded her how blunt the Sabaku's could be about these things. They gave nothing for so long, then, bam; no filter.

He didn't respond and, in the silence he left, Sakura shuffled down on the stone ledge to lay as he had and watch the stars above them.

Gaara peered over at her – closer now, but still that gap remained – as a sudden and deep thump within his chest resonated all throughout his blood. It caused him to hesitate a moment, his body going tense as she adjusted the way his cloak lay over her in the cold. "Plus," he continued, swallowing when she sighed, presumably finding some comfort on the uneven stone. "He had to duplicate his gold with jutsus to do what I can. I've yet to see another Wind shinobi at that level."

"You never know…"

He shook his head. "I may not be indestructible," he said, reminiscent of her many warnings to him. "But out here, I can very well be untouchable." Perhaps it sounded like he was gloating, he thought it may have been a little conceited, but something about her lying so close to him made him talk without thinking much.

Sakura relaxed with her eyes to the stars and her hands folded over her beneath the cloak. "I could see that," she mumbled.

Like lying against a gently breaking shoreline, she could feel waves crashing over her. Heavy, rhythmic, she closed her eyes against the sensation and breathed in slowly. In every memory she had of him, Gaara felt something akin to this, there was nothing secret about the way he walked through life. Shinobi like him wore their status on their sleeve, unabashedly powerful, and Gaara openly shed the excess. Whereas the constant overflow used to overwhelm, it was more so smolder instead of fire now, more like succumbing rather than suffocating.

Her heart was starting to thump deeply in her chest, her body felt like it was humming, and to distract herself from dwelling on the waves crashing into her – pleasant as they had become – she asked him, "Where did you even get a gold nugget like that from, anyway?"

He peered over at her upon her question and saw her watching the sky; eyes reflecting the stars, he could feel the thumping of her heart through the sand in the ground, and there was a soft hue across her cheeks as well.

"I don't know," he said, and upon his words she swiftly faced him. He enjoyed the way that her dramatic skepticism shaped her expression, though likely not how she intended. "I found it."

This statement could not be entertained lying down, it seemed, as Sakura immediately turned on her hips and leaned up on arm to face him with. "You found it?" she repeated, unamused that he decided dodging her direct questions to be funny.

"Yeah," he agreed, gazing up at her silhouetted by the moonlight, surrounded by stars, and taunted her with her own words; likely to strike a chord. "First try."

Sakura thinned her lips into a scowl, huffing a little as he chuckled at her. Though not as bitter as before, she still couldn't help but think he was purposely being avoidant again. However, as she was lying next to him in this vast stone canyon, the only one to hear the teasing in his voice, to enjoy the way he grinned…she couldn't find it in herself to be upset over his second-natured evasiveness. "That's not funny," she argued against his teasing, brow furrowed and lips pouted.

Gaara laughed regardless, his gaze drifting down to admire her in his cloak and the shape of her next him. Another impulse, too quick to keep in check, and he reached out to touch one of the clasps down the front, taking it between his fingers. Drawing it closer, it pulled on the cloak slightly, nearly pulling the clasp open.

Her heart was jumping because of it and she was halfway glad he wasn't looking at her face when she bit inside her lip and blushed. However, she couldn't help but squirm a little from his silent intensity.

He had a distant and fervid look in his eyes, gaze locked on the clasp as he permitted himself to turn the face of it toward him. He ran his thumb over the embossed metal, his voice a little rough. "You're just jealous of my rock."

Sakura pursed her lips and glanced away as heat overtook her face. So, that's how he wanted to be? Very well, she could at least play along and have the final word, saying with a sarcastic bite, "I must be."

Gaara wore a shallow grin as he stroked the clasp again. Enticed by the thought of watching it come undone, he considered how she might react if he tried, considered what he might do if she let him. Bewitched as he was with how he flustered her, he was starting to love what it could do to her voice, how it could flutter her heart. Just as well, with a blurry mind and a body overheating in his cloak, he was starting to like what it could do him.

She felt a chill from the wind, one that shook loose a considerable yawn after a sharp intake of breath. "Oh," she yawned. "Sorry."

He slightly recoiled at her gasp as if snapping out of a daze, a very wonderful and enthralling sort of daze. "It's okay," he muttered, abruptly sitting up. He loosened his scarf and let the cold breeze waft over his neck, giving him a well-needed chill. "You must be tired."

Sakura unclasped the cloak – this certainly caught his attention – and she stretched her arms out above her as she lay there, squeezing her eyes closed with another long sigh. "What time is it?" she asked as she sat up, another yawn quickly following the question. She pulled the length of her hair from beneath her scarf, straightening it and combing out some snags.

Gaara, reluctant to look away from her, consulted the sky. The north star shown clearly amidst the mess of cosmos above them, and its adjacent that hinted the time had him frowning with dissatisfaction. "Late. We should get going." He stood and began to straighten his cloak and his scarf.

"Right now?' Sakura asked, doing her best to hide the quiver of disappointment in her voice.

Gaara secured their canteen in his belt, "Unfortunately," he grumbled, before continuing, "The city is quite a way east, I imagine the sun will be rising there soon."

"Oh…" she breathed as she pulled her hood back up. "We've been out that long?" A rhetorical question, it would seem, as the sudden heaviness to her eyes answered her.

Gaara nodded. "Time flies." He double checked the buckles on his belt, the little they brought with them all accounted for, and bent down to her then, a hand extended. "Ready?"

She hesitated before reaching out to him, peering up from behind the hood of his cloak, starlit emerald eyes locking with his. "I guess."

He swallowed when he pulled her up from the dusty ground. His blood was still rushing in his ears and he was wondering how long it would take to shake it, especially with her sounding just as upset as he was to return to civilization. She must know what she was doing to him... His hand was chilled from the air when he took hold of her and, once off the ground, it was with a slow reluctance that he let her slip between his fingers.

So quickly he had stolen her away to a mystifying, faraway land, and so quickly he was toting her back again. He hadn't quite noticed the change in moonlight or the shifting of the stars, he'd been entirely too consumed with her to care. It could indeed feel timeless out here and, yet again, he truly wished that it was. Gaara called upon his sand, the granules floating up from the ground and swirling around them in the air.

"Thank you," Sakura said again, her voice sounding tired and distant between them. She let herself be pulled into him when that same deliberate touch encircled her waist, she placed a hand on his shoulder and, before the oncoming numbness could fan her exhaustion even more, she rested her head against it.

Acutely aware of every inch of her within his grasp and how her body heat permeated the layers between them, Gaara attempted to speak around the dryness in his throat. "Of course," he said, his sand still swirling. He turned his face toward her, enticed by the subtle scent of mint and oranges on her hair. He could have pressed his nose against those soft locks, breathing in and losing himself in the scent of her, and he hoped that she would linger on his cloak long after she was gone. "I'll take you somewhere next time, too."

Sakura smiled as her eyes closed; body feeling weightless, heart lightly thumping in her chest, those butterflies… "Promise?" she asked, biting her lip as she felt his firm grip slide ever so slightly up her waist.

"I promise."

愛愛愛