Clubbing wasn't as glamorous as she'd seen on television. Originally, Xin thought she'd be excited to experience clubbing for the first time but it was….well, not a disappointment but not what she expected.

It was too loud, that was for sure. So loud that she had to shout in Temari's ear just to be heard. And that was fuckin' embarrassing with their vast height difference. She had the sneaking suspicion that it amused Temari, if her smug smile was anything to go by.

It didn't take her long to lose track of Temari, watching her go bounding off towards a group of people. Xin considered following her but decided not, feeling juvenile to just follow her around. She could handle herself in some dark, crowded and hot club for a little while.

She skirted the dance floor, eyeing the crowd. It wasn't like she was afraid to dance but she didn't know all these people, who the hell was she supposed to dance with? She glanced away, finding Temari still surrounded by her friends. Her mind wandered and she found herself wondering what Gaara was up to.

The irony wasn't lost on her that she was thinking about what Gaara was up to. She was the one to keep a healthy distance between them but now all she wanted was for him to swoop in and drag her back home, where she belonged.

The bar wasn't overcrowded, everyone was too busy on the dance floor. She slid onto the barstool, her feet dangling before she found the lower rung to rest on. Leaning onto the bar, she considered texting Gaara but stayed her hand. It was late and they never spoke to one another this late. Starting now would be strange, wouldn't it?

"Can I get you something?"

The bartender was smiling at her, a pretty young woman with blonde hair so pale, it almost looked white. She looked more like one of Temari's modeling friends than a bartender, her eyes a pale blue. She didn't look real, Xin thought, like something out of a storybook.

"Uh—water?"

The bartender eyed her with a quirked brow, clearly amused and a little confused. A knowing look crossed her face. "First time at a club? You look kind of young."

Gaara said as much, that she didn't look old enough to even get into a club. Jura even called her a kid when they first met. She didn't know what it was about her face that was so youthful but it wasn't a bad thing, she guessed. The bouncer gave her a funny look but hadn't asked for identification but that was probably because she was with Temari.

"Yes," she answered after a moment, finding no need to lie. "I'm twenty-three though. I don't know what to order." The only thing she knew for sure was a Long Island iced tea but decided not to order that.

The bartender nodded, as if that might be obvious. It probably was, since she tried to order water at a fuckin' bar. "Wanna try a strawberry daiquiri?"

She didn't know what a daiquiri was but she liked strawberries all the same, so she shrugged and watched quietly as the bartender put together a drink in a cup with an exaggerated wide rim. There was even sugar crusted around the rim.

It was comforting to watch, reminding her of her mother's sureness whenever she was cooking. "You're very good with your hands," she ended up saying, sounding like a fuckin' idiot.

But the bartender only grinned, plopping a straw into the drink. "Thanks, my girlfriend thinks so too," she winked. "I'll be back, gotta serve some more customers." She slid down the bar before Xin could say much else, tending to the other bar goers.

She wasn't sure how much she was allowed to drink, Kazuya never allowed her more than a couple sips of his beers. Not that she really minded because she wasn't all that fond of beer to begin with and her alcohol tolerance was shit, which was embarrassing.

Gaara had to drag her home, practically carrying her inside because she decided to down four or five glasses. It wasn't her fault it tasted so good, how was she supposed to know Long Islands were crack in a glass? Still, it wasn't worth acting like a buffoon and having to be helped home like some sloppy lush.

The drink was just as good, maybe even better, she couldn't decide but she reminded herself not to go overboard. Gaara wasn't here to keep an eye on her and she wasn't sure she could trust Temari. Not that it was Gaara's job to keep an eye on her but…

But what?

Xin stubbornly lifted her drink and spun around on her stool, facing the belly of the club. There were steel cages hanging from the ceiling and men and women were dancing in them. That seemed shiesty to her but no one really seemed that concerned. It was mostly dark with lights flashing every so often and loud club music blared from speakers.

She watched the club goers, they all seemed to be having fun. Why did it all seem so simple? She liked dancing, she was never shy about dancing but the mere thought of it, of being surrounded by strangers, made her fuckin' skin itch.

Kazuya wouldn't have let her go dancing, hell, he'd knock her head off of her shoulders for her outfit choice alone. After all, whose attention was she hoping for in her ridiculously tight jeans? What was the point of the top that emphasized her neck, shoulders and most importantly, her breasts? What was all that for?

Something like dread began to creep up her back, digging its claws into her shoulders. It hung over her in a dark shroud, resting its weight on the top of her head and on her shoulders. It threatened to engulf her right there in the club. Kazuya wouldn't approve of this, she thought with a tense mouth. He wouldn't like any of this. The black shroud slithered around her throat, threatening to choke her.

"...Xin, I thought you were right behind me." Temari was suddenly standing next to her, hand resting on her shoulder. "What are you drinking?"

For a moment, Xin struggled to find the words. The anxious dread was still coiled around her neck and it took her a moment to gather herself. She blinked hard and took an obnoxiously large gulp of her drink, trying her best to silently ground herself without worrying Temari. She must not have done a very good job because Temari looked a little alarmed.

"Erm–it's a daiquiri," she struggled to say. "Strawberry. Uh, it's really good." She even managed a smile. "I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends."

Temari made a face at that. "Those people aren't my friends. Besides, I came here with you, you're no embarrassment. Look at you." Temari squeezed her shoulder with a careful smile. "They're just people I met through work or have connections with Gaara. Gotta keep everyone placated and all that."

"Why, will they start shooting at us otherwise?"

Temari didn't reply and Xin decided to end that conversation there. "Wanna try?" She offered the drink, hoping to distract her from her weird mood. She wasn't fooling Temari but the blonde took the offer anyway, shooting her a smile all the while. "Good, yeah?"

"Yeah," Temari nodded. "Are you gonna sit at the bar all night or will you dance with me? You danced with Jura and I'll be very offended if you tell me no. I'm a much better dancer, after all."

"Okay," Xin tipped the drink back, guzzling it down with only a slight grimace. She placed the glass down just as the bartender returned with one of her pretty smiles. "It was really good, thank you."

"How're you, Haruka? Making good tips tonight?" Temari leaned in towards the bar with a smile. Xin had no idea Temari even knew the bartender but it wasn't that much of a shock. Temari and her siblings owned this particular club so it made sense that they knew who they hired. "Xin here says you make good strawberry daiquiris."

The bartender, Haruka was her name, gave her a teasing wink. "You know I make anything good." She said it in a certain way that made Xin think Haruka might've been flirting but she couldn't say for sure. "So, your name's Xin? Pretty name."

Xin snorted before she could think better of it, knowing it was rude. "It's not that pretty," she mumbled while staring at the empty glass.

Temari slapped a couple banknotes down, far too much for one single drink. "Two shots of whiskey. Keep the change."

Xin wanted to protest, knowing whiskey was stronger than anything she could handle but Temari shot her a look, patting her on the thigh. It was surprisingly affectionate of her and Xin felt the telltale rise of heat in her face. Haruka caught it with quick eyebrows but did as asked, serving them two shots of whiskey.

Temari picked up hers, holding it out towards Xin. She begrudgingly picked up her own but chuckled when Temari clinked their shot glasses together. The whiskey went down smooth but Xin grimaced, feeling it all in her jaw and neck. Temari didn't even give her a chance to get herself together, dragging her off of the stool and towards the dancefloor.

Haruka waved them away with a smile.

The first thing he noticed were the set of heels. They were plain and an off black color with a thicker heel. The type of heels his sister tended to wear were usually a jet or shiny black with red bottoms. The spikes of her heels also tended to be tall, something she once avoided because she was always so tall to begin with.

Those were not his sister's heels.

It wasn't strange for his sister to have some friend over every now and then. Though honestly, most of her friendships were shallow at best. It wasn't that her friends were terrible people, the majority of them were pleasant enough but he knew Temari had a harder time connecting with people.

All three of the Sabakus had a hard time, it was why they mostly stuck with themselves. There was Jura, of course but he was damn there a Sabaku himself so he didn't really count. There was also Jura's brood of siblings but the affiliation practically extended to them too.

They were an intimidating trio, even before Gaara seized power for himself. It was a trait inherited from their father though their mother hadn't been a pushover in her own right. They grew up with shallow, if not nonexistent, friendships and learned early on that the only ones they could really trust was each other.

And for a long time, that was just fine. And it still was, honestly. He'd never quite trust anyone like he trusted his siblings.

And then Xin wandered her dippy ass right into his life. Did he trust her? Well, not like he trusted his siblings but that was a little unfair. But did he trust her like he trusted…say, Jura? Or Asuna? That was still hard to say.

She was an uncertainty and he didn't like uncertainties in his life, not that that meant her life was in danger or anything. Still, what exactly was he supposed to do with Hyuga Xin? Their friendship, tentative as it may be, was something he initially thought he'd be just fine with. He still was fine with it but it'd be a lie if he denied the stray thought of peeling her out of one of those nice silk shirts he forced on her.

No, that thought did not make him a bad person. The other shit he got up to on a daily basis made him a bad person, but not his attraction to a pretty girl. He didn't do these nice things for her because he expected something of her, something physical. He did it because…well…

He wasn't exactly sure why.

Well, admittedly, he wanted to endear her to him. Even just a little bit. But he also picked up on the fact that she could use a little kindness. He wasn't so oblivious that he couldn't put two and two together. Despite her insistence that she was fine with being left alone, she was definitely running from someone.

Maybe that not so nice ex-boyfriend of hers.

He knew a jittery victim when he saw one, though he had the distinct feeling that she would deny such a thing. It was honestly a little hard to believe that either way since she sometimes showed her real personality underneath the new one she adopted.

Still, she didn't trust him enough to say so or not, so it wasn't really any of his business. He couldn't really fault her for that, he was still trying to figure out if he could trust her too.

Gaara didn't see his sister or any guests that she might have had over but he thought nothing of it. Their estate was big enough that the siblings could go days without seeing each other if they so wished. Still, even though he worked through the night, he was surprised that his sister had yet to make an appearance.

It was around two in the morning when Kankuro and Jura came waltzing in the home office. Jura threw himself down on the couch, phone in his hand while Kankuro sat in the high back armchair across from his brother.

"You should be getting some sleep," Kankuro said offhandedly, knowing his brother wouldn't heed the advice.

Gaara grunted, shrugging one shoulder. "Have you seen Temari? It's weird that she hasn't come in here once to complain about her day or tell me what I should be doing."

"She went out to that new club we opened, the one we set Haruka up with."

"How does she like it?"

"She says it's popular so far, and made a lot of tips. She thinks that Xin is cute."

Gaara paused for a brief moment, his head twitching to the side in thought. "Xin?"

Kankuro glanced up at him, having been fiddling with his own phone. "Yes, Xin. The paranoid little weirdo you seem to like so much."

He ignored the jab. "She took Xin with her to go clubbing?"

"She mentioned it earlier," Jura glanced up from his phone, a secret smile in place. "At lunch. She said she was going to ask Xin to come out with her."

Gaara shot him a blank look. "She asked and Xin actually agreed?" He highly doubted that of either woman. He knew damn well that his sister was pushy and that she no doubt showed up to Xin's work and all but dragged her into the car. And knowing Xin, she was probably put off but gave in because what the hell else was she supposed to do?

"I doubt it went like that but they're together so it worked out the way Temari wanted." Jura heaved himself up off of the couch and approached Gaara, holding out his phone to him. "Haruka sent a picture of them at the bar."

Xin and Temari were indeed sitting at the bar, both sporting smiles. Temari's smile was more exuberant, eyes bright and a little glazed. Xin's smile was a little more demure but her eyes were just as glazed. The two made for a pretty picture, he realized, his sister's blonde hair, tanned skin and dark eyes complimenting Xin's dark hair, pale skin and light eyes.

"Tell Haruka that they're cut off," he decided after a moment of admiring the picture. "Take Shira and go get them."

Jura frowned but did as instructed, shooting his cousin a quick text that Temari and Xin were officially cut off. "…You want me to bring Xin back here?"

That was a little weird, wasn't it? But who knows how much alcohol Xin consumed this time around with no one to really stop her? What if Jura dropped her off at home and she choked on her vomit or something?

"Yes, bring her here. She can sleep in one of the guest rooms."

Jura only nodded and quickly left in search of Shira. He grimaced, hoping tha Temari wasn't too drunk. She tended to bite.

It only occurred to Gaara, at that moment, that the heels at the front door actually belonged to Xin.

Go fuckin' figure.

Xin didn't like clubbing.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. She liked dancing and the drinks were good but she wasn't fond of how sweaty the whole ordeal was. She also wasn't all that fond of other club goers grabbing on her and grinding against her. Several times Temari had snatched her back when she was pulled into the crowd of sweaty and writhing bodies. She retreated to the bar more times than she could count where Haruka always seemed to be waiting with another fruity drink or shot for her.

All in all, she might be convinced to do it again. If Kazuya were around and she was still trapped in a relationship with him, he'd be pissed with her and no doubt reward her night of debauchery with a punch to the head. But he wasn't here and that made the night worth it.

Xin sat at the bar, resting her elbows against it with her hands cupping her face. "What do you mean, I'm cut off? Cut off from what?"

Haruka was cleaning a glass, eyeing her watch every now and then. "You're cut off from the bar, Xin. No more alcohol for you or Temari. Boss man said so."

"Who the fuck—"

A man appeared at her side just then, looking down at her with a calm expression. With no warning, he grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her off the barstool. "It's time to go, Miss." He was tall with a stern face, his hair seemingly a dark gray. She could see the hint of tattoos but it was mostly his numerous scars that caught her off guard, especially the one at his throat.

Maybe it was the adrenaline or her annoyance with being cut off or the liquid courage but Xin knew she didn't like being grabbed and swung around by some stranger. She snatched her arm away and with no warning, punched the man right in the face.

It caught the man off guard and even surprised Xin. "Oh," she blinked with a slur. "Oh, shit."

Before he could retaliate, Jura was there with Temari, a firm grip around her arm. It would seem that he witnessed what just happened and was surprised himself. "Um, Shira, how about you take Temari and I'll take Xin?"

The man, Shira, prodded at his nose before wiggling it. He glanced down at Xin for a long moment before reaching for Temari instead. She seemed none the wiser to what just happened, flashing a white smile at Shira while he led her away.

"Xin, what the fuck." This time when Jura grabbed her, she didn't try to hit him.

"I don't like when strangers grab me," she managed to say.

Behind her, Haruka eyed her apprehensively. "Shira did come out of nowhere. I think he kind of deserved that."

Jura rubbed the back of his neck. "Still, you should be more careful than that, Xin. How much has she had to drink, Haruka? Her tolerance is shit."

That made Haruka smile, her apprehensive look melting away. "She's had enough, that's for sure." Haruka looked like she wanted to ask more but decided not to. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Xin. Maybe next time we can do some partying of our own." She offered with a wink and a smile.

Jura made a face and glanced in between the two women. "Go call Sei and let her know when you'll be home, Haruka," he said with a pointed look.

Haruka pouted but waved her cousin off, bidding Xin a more genuine goodnight. Jura guided her out of the club, taking her by the hand to guide her seamlessly through the crowd. Xin went easily, almost becoming used to being guided and dragged around.

Shira and Temari were waiting in a big sleek car, though Temari was slumped against the door. When Xin drunkenly climbed in next to her with Jura's help, Temari instantly turned to slump against her. "Hey, Xin?"

Xin leaned her head against Temari's head. If she'd been sober, maybe the familiarity would have bothered her. "Hm?"

"Did you have fun?"

Well, that was hard to answer. She liked dancing with Temari and she liked the drinks Haruka made, seemingly coming up with them on the fly just to watch Xin's reaction. That was fun but she didn't care much for the rest. The loud music, the heat, the smell of body sweat, all that she could do without. And what the fuck was with men and taking it upon themselves to just grind on her?

"Sure," she answered sleepily.

"Good." She could hear the sleepy smile in Temari's voice. "Maybe we can do it again."

"Maybe."

"This isn't my apartment."

Jura chuckled and helped Xin out of the car, practically sliding her across the leather seats. She stumbled out and onto her feet, Jura catching her by the arm before she could further embarrass herself.

"You're wasted, Xin. We don't want you choking on your own vomit in the middle of the night."

Was she really that bad? Sure, her eyes were barely open and she was swaying on her feet but wasn't she just tired? Tonight had been her first night out to a club and it was an overwhelming ordeal. She clearly wasn't sober but was wasted the appropriate term?

Jura thought so because he dropped his hand from her arm, only to grab her hand to lead her inside. Shira followed behind with Temari, who was now beginning to notice his rabidly bruising nose.

"Shira, what the hell happened to your nose?"

Jura couldn't help his cackling. Xin groaned in guilt. "I said I was sorry."

"You actually didn't."

Xin paused. "Oh. Oh shit."

"That's actually what you did say," Shira spoke up.

Xin laughed, a half manic half drunken guffaw. "I'm sorry, I just don't like when people just grab me like that."

"We grab you all the time," Temari pointed out.

"I stand by what I said."

She couldn't see her since Temari was behind with Shira but she knew the blonde was staring holes into the back of her head. She could fuckin' feel it.

"Do we make you uncomfortable?"

Her hand in Jura's felt strangely hot. "Yes," she answered almost thoughtfully. "But not in the way that makes me want to punch you. Well. Not anymore, at least." She felt Jura squeeze her hand but she couldn't say why he did it. "You're all very…overwhelming."

If she were sober, this conversation wouldn't be happening right now. "And intimidating too. I don't like it sometimes but I don't hate it. It feels like…soft bullying."

In the morning, when she sobered up, she'd be embarrassed by her drunken ramblings. She'd beat herself up over it because this vulnerability masked as drunken rambles was going to ruin everything. She was glad Gaara and Kankuro were absent, at least.

"That's a perfect way to describe Temari," Jura said after a long moment of silence. She could tell that her confession threw them all off.

"Watch it, Mikawa or I'll punch you next," Temari threatened lightly.

When they made it inside, Temari snatched Xin away from Jura, drunkenly declaring that she'd be sleeping in her room tonight. Never mind the fact that they had several rooms to offer. Jura followed them up the grand stairs, just in case one of them lost their footing and took a tumble. Wouldn't be the first time.

Temari ushered Xin into her bedroom. Xin dropped bonelessly on the bed and undid the buttons of her jeans, letting out a sigh of relief. Temari clucked her tongue and prodded at her. "Don't lay on my clean sheets with those clothes on." She tossed what Xin assumed was something to sleep in on her face.

She groaned, suddenly bone tired but gave in, rolling off of the soft bed to undress. She wriggled out of her jeans and fought her way out of the top, dragging the large shirt over her head with exaggerated and exasperated groans. Dressed for bed, she sprawled out on the floor, eyes closed.

Temari leaned over her and began to wipe the makeup away. Xin let her do so, eyes still closed and sleep settled into her bones. She was tempted to just sleep on the floor at that point.

"Oi, Xin?"

She could feel Temari's lithe fingers smoothing her bangs away, swiping the makeup wipe across her forehead. She couldn't remember if she had that much makeup on in the first place but Temari's gentle touch was a comfort she couldn't remember experiencing since before Kazuya.

"Mm?"

"What's this scar from?"

It should have bothered her but the alcohol dulled her senses enough that she didn't really react. Temari was tracing the scar with the tip of her finger, following the thin line from down her forehead to just under her ear.

There was something pushing at the fogged edge of her mind. This was wrong. She shouldn't be drunk and laid out on the floor of some mansion with a gangster's sister. What she should do is get her drunk ass up and demand to be taken home.

"I…tripped and fell face first into a window."

It was…sort of a lie?

"That sounds awful."

Oh, it was. At least, she thought it was. She had gone into what she assumed was shock when it happened. She felt the stinging when it first happened but all she could really remember was feeling a strange pressure from the wounded area. And, of course, all of the blood. It was alarming how much she bled but head wounds tended to gush that way.

"I guess it was," Xin mumbled after a moment. Temari was still tracing the scar, it was actually quite comforting. It was awful, Kazuya was awful but didn't she deserve it? She was awful too and she'd hurt him first. He was only reacting to what she'd done and what she'd been planning.

Temari made a soft, soothing sound. She probably didn't believe it but Xin didn't have enough energy to insist that it was the truth. "Come on, let's go to bed." They clumsily climbed into the bed, limbs as heavy as lead.

She would regret this in the morning, she knew but she couldn't find it in her to care at the moment. The bed was much too soft.

Xin woke up gradually and alone.

She hardly noticed Temari's absence, stumbling half asleep into the bathroom. There, like last time, she spent several minutes emptying her stomach. She was kind of glad that Temari was nowhere to be found, lest she witness Xin cradling the toilet while purging the alcohol from her system.

There was no toothbrush for her to use but she settled on vigorously washing her mouth out with mouthwash. She had no change of clothes either, save for her work clothes. Someone had washed them, which was nice but she only pulled on her bra.

She lingered in Temari's room, wondering where the other woman might be. Her stomach rumbled and after several minutes of hyping herself up, she left the room. She obviously didn't know her way around the estate but there had to be a kitchen somewhere and hopefully no one would mind her pillaging.

She didn't find the kitchen but she did find Shira. She blanched immediately, eyes catching his bruised nose. Now in better lighting, he looked younger than what she initially assumed but his expression was still stern and his scars were even more intimidating.

Guilt formed in the pit of her stomach. He was intimidating as fuck but she shouldn't have just sucker punched him like that. Still, she really hadn't appreciated that he abruptly grabbed her without even introducing himself. They were both wrong but she doubted a punch to the face was deserved.

"Um, Shira," she smiled tightly, that's what Jura, Temari and Haruka called him, if she remembered right. "About last night, uh—my bad. I mean, I'm sorry I hit you like that. I don't like being touched."

Shira continued to stare down at her, his expression never faltering. It was fuckin' weird. But then he nodded. "You said as much." She wasn't sure if that meant he forgave her. "I shouldn't have grabbed you. It was a good punch, regardless."

That made her laugh but it was tinged with her usual nervousness. "Only because I caught you off guard." He probably would have broken her wrist had he caught her fist before she could make contact. Thankfully, she hadn't broken his nose, at least. She stuck her hand out, offering a tentative smile. "Truce?"

It might have just surprised Shira but he didn't show it. He had a good poker face, he hadn't reacted much to being punched in the face. "Truce," he decided after a moment of silence, taking her hand to give it one firm shake.

"Great! Now, be a pal and direct me in the direction of the kitchen? I'm starving."

Shira did just that, motioning for her to follow him. He led her into the opposite direction, much to her dismay. She really shouldn't be wandering around someone's house like she owned the place but what did anyone expect her to do? She was hungry.

"They don't use the kitchen much," Shira explained. It was obvious that they didn't use the kitchen often because it was too shiny, too clean. Still, it was massive and something she might've seen in a magazine.

She whistled. "Wow." She deserved this kitchen, goddammit. How could they have such a nice kitchen and hardly use it? It wasn't fair. "Is the refrigerator stocked?" What if the kitchen was only for appearances and they actually had no food?

Fuckin' rich people.

But Shira nodded. "Sometimes they hire chefs for catering."

"Of course they do," Xin snorted, salty but thoroughly impressed. "Would you like some breakfast?"

This time, Shira actually offered a small smile. He had a nice smile, she noticed, even with all the scary ass scars. "That's kind of you but no thank you. I should be getting back."

Getting back to what, she had no idea. It was probably for the best, she decided. "Right, right. Thanks for bringing me here. Have a productive day and again, I'm sorry about that punch."

She was left alone after that, which she didn't really mind. Instead she was left to rifle through the kitchen, forever salty and impressed by all the new kitchen gadgets and how fully stocked the fridge was. When her stomach rumbled and reminded her that she was actually starving, she got to cooking.

Cooking was therapeutic but she hadn't had the time to enjoy it once she made it to Tokyo. Hell, she could hardly afford to buy actual groceries to cook. Another sacrifice, she lamented but worth it. Sometimes. Convenient store food wasn't all that great but she couldn't complain. Well, she did complain but it was mostly just internal.

She was so engrossed in her cooking that she didn't take notice of Gaara turning into the kitchen, looking confused as hell. The smell of food actually cooking had alerted him that something was happening and he'd come to investigate. Color him surprised to find Xin to be the culprit.

"You can cook?"

She mentioned that she liked to bake but that was different from cooking. She seemed completely at ease, like she'd been when sewing him up. So at ease that it seemed effortless.

Xin startled, nearly dropping the ladle into the miso soup. "For fuck's sake," she hissed before looking at him, her face pulling. "Oh. Hello. I mean—good morning. Um. Breakfast?"

"I had coffee."

She wasn't impressed. "That's not breakfast. And yes, I can cook. Sorry for taking over your kitchen but I was hungry."

Gaara eased into the kitchen, dressed more casually than she'd ever seen. "Not like we use it much anyway."

"And what a shame that is," Xin tutted. "Nice things are wasted on rich people, I swear. Now, sit. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day! You can't run a crime syndicate on an empty stomach."

He snorted but sat down on the other side of the island. "Had fun clubbing?"

She wrinkled her nose immediately, eyes falling back to her cooking. "It was…an experience." That was good, right? She didn't want him to think spending a night out with his sister was a nightmare. She certainly wasn't in a rush to do it again, though.

"Not what you thought it was?"

She huffed. "TV makes it look so glamorous! No one said it was going to be as hot as Satan's toenails. And why do random strangers just grind on you? That was fuckin' weird."

He wondered if she knew how easy she made cooking look. He wasn't much of a cook, never had the patience for it but apparently he didn't mind watching it unfold. Or maybe he just didn't mind watching Xin.

"People like to dance with pretty girls," Gaara said simply. "Just ask Jura."

She glanced up at him, staring at him from the veil of thick bangs. It wasn't the first time she'd been called pretty but she was beginning to notice that this group in particular constantly pointed it out. Kazuya liked to tell her she was pretty too, of course he also made sure to remind her that her prettiness made up for her empty ass head. She knew she could be a ditz every now and then but to be constantly belittled because of her pretty face tended to wear her confidence thin.

After all, if she was so fuckin' stupid, she had no chance of actually being a legitimate doctor. Doctors were smart, they had to be. Mistakes couldn't be made and only idiots made mistakes, right? She had to give up on the idea of furthering her education, she was far too much of a ditz and it was better to leave that career to people who actually had more than two brain cells to rub together.

Kazuya reassured her that it was for the best, after all. That she belonged with him, in the middle of their nowhere town. He'd marry her one day and that would leave her with no time to have such a demanding career anyway.

She never liked those conversations. Maybe she wasn't smart enough to be a doctor or even a nurse but she always thought she could be something. Something more than just a wife or her little town. Not that there was anything wrong with being a homemaker or staying in a little town but sometimes she thought her soul belonged somewhere else.

Kazuya, of course, thought she was a fool for harboring such thoughts. Where was she going to go with these big aspirations? She had no actual documented schooling beyond her high school diploma. She was meant for their town, she was meant for him.

He was right, she had to admit. She wasn't smart enough and couldn't afford it anyway. She wasn't special or anything like that, no better than her neighbor. There was no hidden, special talent that would take her out of her town.

Still, the thought of her fate being Kazuya's wife and mother to his children made her skin itch. He'd been regularly beating the shit out of her when he told her that. Maybe he was the stupid one if he really thought she was going to birth his kids.

Sure, she was dumb bitch but she wasn't a stupid bitch.

"I'm not that pretty," Xin said finally, realizing she'd been lost in thought and staring at Gaara like a fuckin' creep.

But he only stared back, unimpressed by her words. "I disagree."

Xin frowned and was the first to break their staring contest, heat rushing up the back of her neck. She blamed it on the heat from her cooking. Instead, she finished the cooking and carefully plated the food up, setting his portion in front of him in a neat display.

He couldn't remember the last time he had a proper, home cooked breakfast like this. Maybe before, when his father was still alive and his mother was around. It was nice and even nicer to share with the likes of Xin.

"I heard you assaulted Shira last night," he said after several quiet minutes of eating.

The blush crawling up the back of her neck shot up straight to her face. "I apologized, what more do you want?"

"I thought you were a nice drunk. Apparently, I was wrong."

"He came out of nowhere! I don't like being grabbed like that. And Haruka was saying I was cut off by the Boss, whoever the fuck that is—"

"That would be me."

"Excuse me?"

Gaara nodded, ignoring her frazzled ranting. "Me, I told her to cut you two off. Good thing too, since you seem to be inclined to violence when drunk. Temari too. I don't want two drunk girls starting a brawl in the middle of my new club."

Her face flushed even harder. "And what gives you the right to decide when I've had enough?" She asked in a delicate tone. Her question was careful and not all snappish, though she was annoyed that he felt the need to make such a choice for her.

Gaara didn't seem at all miffed with her question, barely even sparing her a glance. "I'm sorry, do you normally go around hitting people?"

Well, he had a point. Had she not been addled with copious amounts of liquor, there's no way she would've hit Shira the way she did. Still, he wasn't her keeper, he couldn't just dictate when she'd had enough.

Never mind that she had had enough.

"Still, that doesn't give you the right to make these choices for me. You could've…I don't know, texted or called me first." She avoided having to look at him, eyes laser focused on her tamagoyaki.

Gaara was back to looking at her, regarding her with amusement. She could practically feel her face burning. "And would you have listened if I called?"

Hard to say but it was probably a no. As drunk as she'd been, she probably would have snapped that he wasn't the boss of her—which, of course, he wasn't, after all. Still, who knows what would have happened if she'd kept on drinking. She'd probably be passed out in a fuckin' alley somewhere, like she had no home training.

"Maybe," she said instead of completely surrendering. There might have been a small—tiny even—chance that she would've listened to him. She was good at listening, she had to be. Listening meant she wouldn't be hit.

But she couldn't expect Gaara to hit her, if she so much as dared to defy him, could she? She wasn't so ignorant that she couldn't sense his violence, she could. He didn't flaunt his violence but she could tell all the same. Besides, the stab wound that brought them together in the first place was pretty telling.

Gaara knew violence, he was violence.

Xin knew violence, she was not violence.

Still, what was she doing here, then?

Gaara leaned forward, resting his cheek against his fist. "Somehow I doubt you'd actually listen, angel."

"I might've, if you asked nicely." Oh, that came out wrong, didn't it? It sounded flirtatious to her ears, coquettish even. It wasn't supposed to come out like that. Or maybe it was and she was just too chicken shit to admit it. Could be either or.

He chuckled, somehow always amused with her. Jesus, was she so bad at flirting that he didn't even take her seriously? Well, probably. The last time she felt the need to flirt, she was a naive teenager.

"Ask nicely? Is that all it takes for you to be a good girl?"

The fuck?

She kept her eyes on her food, unwilling to look up. She felt the blood in her veins run hot, scalding even, from the tips of her ears down to her toes. She hadn't meant to flirt with him but his words sounded absolutely deliberate. How the fuck was she supposed to bring the conversation back to neutral territory?

Turns out, she didn't have to. Kankuro chose that very moment to come swinging into the kitchen, having smelled the intoxicating scent of food. He paused though at the sight of Xin, eyes slowly squinting suspiciously. "Even in the safety of my home, you haunt me."

Xin was already standing, grateful for Kankuro's sour ass presence. She rolled her eyes but smiled, hands already reaching for bowls. "I think you secretly like it when I'm around, Kankuro."

He scoffed, offended. "As fuckin' if, Xin. You just might be the bane of my existence." He joined his brother on his side of the wide island, watching Xin put together his breakfast. "Huh. Never took you as the dutiful housewife type."

"And what would you know about a wife? You don't even have a girlfriend."

Gaara snorted as Kankuro gaped, clearly caught off by the jab. Xin was still smiling, though it was a smug one, and delicately set down his portion of breakfast. "Eat your food before it gets cold." And with that, she sat back down.

Kankuro glared at her, clearly still offended but snatched his chopsticks up all the same. "Thanks for the meal," he said as if it caused extreme pain.

"You're welcome."

It was silent for all of five minutes before Kankuro graciously ruined it. "Heard you assaulted poor Shira."

"I apologized!"

Again, Gaara snorted.

TeeBeMe: I don't blame Xin, I don't really like to go clubbing myself.