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Sakura wasn’t even supposed to go in the first place.
After weeks in Konoha due to the exams, Gaara had received word that there were some matters he needed to attend to in Suna. After all, leaving the village for weeks at a time and expecting things to go smoothly was sort of a tough bargain. Baki can only do so much.
Naturally, Gaara had decided to take a trip back. Of course, with the rising political tensions, everyone had advised him against going alone- especially Tsunade.
We’ll send you with ANBU.
Additionally, perhaps a Jonin team?
You shouldn’t even be going. Can’t Baki take care of things?
Perhaps hidden in Gaara’s insistence to go to Suna is his constant anxiety. He won’t admit that he’s uptight and a control freak. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Baki, it’s that Gaara feels the need to be there himself. Besides, in another hawk he’d received, there’s something the elders want to talk about.
“Is Sakura on any missions this week?” Gaara asks, in a late evening meeting with Tsunade. There stands a bottle of sake between them, but he’s drinking sparingly. Something tells him it’s not wise to stumble in front of the Hokage, and in addition, he’s fairly sure Tsunade will be the one stumbling. It’s one of the first times he’s agreed to drinks with her, after all.
Tsunade sets her glass down a little too hard, and the wood of the desk hollows out with a thunk under her hand. “What? You want to take her on another date, or something? Spare me, please,” she snorts. Even though she thinks they’re an interestingly compatible couple, she won’t say it. She’s too fond of Sakura to suddenly hand her over (despite her approval of Gaara.)
“Not quite,” Gaara says, a smile teasing at his lips as he nurses his drink. “I was wondering if she could be cleared to accompany me to Suna this week.”
“No,” Tsunade says flatly, so quickly that Gaara is taken aback.
“No?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“That’s not a very good answer,” Gaara deadpans, and Tsunade glares. Sometimes, Ohnoki is right. Gaara has a stupid mouth on him.
“You have village business. Not a honeymoon.”
“A honeymoon implies a wedding. There will be no such thing.”
“Oh, so you’re just fucking?”
Gaara chokes on his sip of sake, and not because of the taste. He appreciates Tsunade’s brashness when it comes to a lot of things, but his love life isn’t one of them.
“I never said that, either,” Gaara counters, trying to keep his demeanor. “I was actually asking because then she could check on the medical training she started earlier this year. In addition, then you wouldn’t have to send an entire squad with me. I know you want to keep as many people in the village as possible.”
“You talk like you’re already planning on getting what you want. I think that’s why you piss everyone off,” Tsunade says after a moment. Her cheeks are starting to get red. “You know that? You know everyone thinks you’re a brat?”
Gaara sips. “I’m aware.”
“You’re lucky you’re so damn good at your job. I’d have…” Tsunade seems to forget what she was going to say, focusing on pouring herself another drink.
“So naturally, you’d trust my judgement,” Gaara points out.
“Don’t get cocky.”
“I’m just saying,” Gaara says. “Truly, Hokage-sama… what would sway you?”
Tsunade doesn’t really have a reason to say no- she won’t tell him that, though. What would she gain by appearing wrong? Maybe she’s being too old-fashioned. It’s not like Sakura has a lot of duties at home right now, anyway. Not when they’re mobilizing for war. “I’ll tell you what,” she says, looking Gaara right in those sunken eyes of his, “if you beat me at dice, Sakura can go with you.”
Gaara offers a wry grin. “It’s a bet.” He’s not much of a gambler, but then again, neither is Tsunade. Kankuro would be a lot more suited for this, with all the nights he spends out, but Gaara will have to pretend like he has that gene instead. Gaara is typically no fun in games. He’s either an intense cheater or a sore loser (or both!), so he’s interested in seeing how the night ends. For this reason, his sand armor is still on (even though he’s certain Tsunade could shatter it.)
With the shadow of this thought, Gaara doesn’t move while he filters tiny grains of sand onto the table, practically invisible to the naked eye because of their size. While Tsunade fishes around in her desk for a cup and some dice, he’s setting grains of sand into it. This way, he’ll be able to feel the vibrations of the sand, as well as the edge of the die, to see what side it lands on.
“Okay. You pick even or odd,” Tsunade says. “Best of three wins.”
“Deal,” says Gaara. “This one’s even.”
By no surprise, Gaara is right, and Tsunade scowls. “Don’t start grinning yet.”
“There was certainly no grin.”
“Even or odd, brat?”
“Odd.”
Gaara purposely loses this one, feigning disappointment when they come up even.
“We’re tied!” Tsunade cheers, leaning forward with anticipation.
“The next one is odd,” Gaara says, leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms.
He knows he’s right because Tsunade throws the cup and makes a dent in the wall. “Have Sakura back by the next round of the exams.”
“Surely we won’t be that long. It’s business, Hokage-sama.”
~~~
“She said yes? Just like that?” Sakura asks, all while Gaara is packing up his things. He’s gotten a little too comfortable in her apartment these past few weeks.
“It was quite easy,” Gaara says simply.
“Really? I thought she’d be harder to crack.”
“It was no problem.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to go,” Sakura prefaces, from where she’s sitting on her bed, watching Gaara putter around the room, “but I’m not looking forward to the walk.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“A two day walk isn’t exactly my favorite thing.”
“Mine either, but you are, so I think it will be more bearable,” Gaara says pleasantly. It makes Sakura smile.
They’ve fallen into their same circular domesticity that they had just a few months ago, almost like nothing had changed.
“Yeah? Or are you just saying that because you like the weather better in Suna and want to get out of here?”
“Hush,” Gaara laughs.
They leave early the next morning. It hadn’t been widely advertised that Gaara was leaving or that Sakura was coming with him, mostly so the information didn’t cross village lines. Both of their safety was of paramount importance to Tsunade. Gaara appreciates the fuss, but doesn’t think it’s necessary (as he does with most things.) Kakashi and Tsunade see them off, but Naruto is also there, and he whispers something in Sakura’s ear that makes her fall quiet for nearly the first hour of the walk.
Gaara never minds a comfortable silence, but this one is different. There’s something palpable between them, like something is hanging on Sakura’s lips but she just can’t bring herself to say it.
“What did Naruto say to you at the gate?” He asks after a while, the only sound between them being their shoes against the road.
Sakura looks hesitant, and shakes her head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“It seems to be worrying you.”
“There’s nothing worrying me.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“I’m not lying,” Sakura scoffs, but she doesn’t look at him when she says it.
“Just say you don’t want to tell me, then.” Gaara’s eyes are trained straight ahead as he walks. He’s used to being lied to and looked over. However, as he’s gotten older, people skating over him gets less and less attractive.
“It’s not like that.”
“I thought nothing was on your mind?”
Sakura’s eyes narrow. “You don’t have to play stupid mind games with me, you know.”
Except for maybe once, they haven’t really fought. Both of them are level-headed, honest people, though Gaara might be a bit of a hypocrite from time to time (his scorn of passive aggressiveness is not conducive to his own passive aggressiveness.) But that’s what makes this interaction so foreign.
“I’m not playing mind games with you. I just don’t like liars.”
“Naruto gave me news about Sasuke,” says Sakura, her voice low, wavering slightly as she keeps her eyes on the path ahead of them. “That’s what he told me. Apparently there have been signs of Orochimaru’s hideouts along the border. He just wanted me to keep an eye out.”
“Is that why you wanted to come with me?”
“I decided to come with you before I even heard. Don’t make things up.”
“I’m just asking.”
Gaara is always just asking, or just wondering. His go-to has always been to ask for clarification if he doesn’t understand. However, it also causes him to fail to read the room sometimes.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to…” Sakura’s voice trails off, “...think I’m hung up on him, or something. Because I’m not.”
They’ve never, ever talked about this before. Sure, casual jokes of sex and past dates have come up between them. Gaara had shared awkward stories of when he was supposedly engaged. But Sakura’s love life hadn’t really come up- and Gaara isn’t one to pry.
“I never assumed you were,” he says slowly.
“Good,” Sakura says quickly. “Because we never even had anything.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if you had. I don’t know why you… presume I don’t trust you.”
“It’s not that. I know you trust me. I just. Sasuke and I… what we have isn’t romantic anymore, not that it ever really was, I mean, it was, but it wasn’t…” Sakura stammers rather hesitantly as she speaks. “And he is still very important to me. And I want to bring him back to the village. That’s all.”
Even though they’re walking close enough to touch, Gaara suddenly feels far away from her. Not out of jealousy for Sakura’s platonic love of Sasuke- it’s out of the way she has to convince him of it. He doesn’t like being taken for a fool, or someone possessive and jealous.
“I know he’s important to you. And I believe you when you say he’s your friend. I don’t understand why you have to keep reminding me of this,” Gaara says honestly. “Your… romantic history is yours. It’s none of my business. If you and Sasuke were ever together, that’s in the past, right? You wouldn’t be with me otherwise.”
“Right,” Sakura says, nodding feverishly, “right. I’m sorry. I- was being paranoid.”
“I’m not sure why,” Gaara says wryly. “Because truthfully, Sakura? You could have any man you wanted. So I’ll take any time that you choose to spend with me. I don’t really have any interest in acting like a jealous loser. I’m actually--” he pauses, and shakes his head. Surely this will start some tension now.
“What were you going to say?” Sakura asks.
“Is that how you think of me? That you can’t tell me about things like that?” Gaara asks.
“Gaara, no. It’s not like that.”
“Just asking.” There it is again.
This time, Sakura doesn’t answer, and they walk in mostly silence for the rest of the morning.
~
Sakura can never guess what Gaara is thinking. He’s been like this since the first time she saw him, someone she could never quite figure out. And it has her wondering, as they walk like this without so much as looking at each other, is she in too deep? Did she fall in love with him too fast? Is this something long-term, or had they jumped the gun? For someone that she thought she knew every inch of, why does he suddenly feel so closed-off to her?
Conversely, Gaara thinks he would tell Sakura anything if she asked. Maybe it’s just the fact that she hasn’t. Sometimes he feels like Sakura chooses to love him blindly, through pure attraction rather than substance, a sense of naivety that she’s always possessed. How does she see him, he wonders? Is it the same way he sees her? When Gaara looks at Sakura, he sees someone radiant, someone overflowing with intelligence and kindness, talent and potential, compassion and confidence. He feels like he knows her inside and out- and yet- there’s still things she’s keeping from him.
It’s well into the afternoon now, and they need to take a break. As per usual, Gaara won’t admit that his back is killing him, but it is, and he lets his gourd drop to the ground when they stop by a stream to catch their breath. They still haven’t spoken in a few hours, and he breaks the silence.
“Tell me a secret,” he says, while he stretches his legs out, sitting against a tree, leaning back against it.
“A secret?” Sakura asks. “I feel like you know everything.”
“There’s got to be something.”
“If I haven’t told you, it’s because it’s embarrassing,” Sakura laughs lightly, finally turning to him. The awkwardness between them still lingers, but she can tell he’s trying to sort it out. The effort is quaint.
“So? I do plenty of embarrassing things.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“You go first.”
“I…” Sakura bends down to sit next to him, crossing her legs. Then, a mousy grin comes to her face. “I did drugs. Once.”
“What kind?” Gaara smiles.
“Nothing excessive. I just… smoked some pot.”
Gaara laughs unexpectedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“What? What’s so funny?!”
“You’re cute,” he says.
“Why are you saying it like that?” Sakura huffs. “Acting like you’re some big smoker. What, have you?”
Gaara just smiles and shrugs his shoulders. “I do from time to time to help me sleep.”
“What?!” Sakura seems very taken aback by this, more surprised than anything else. “You smoke pot?”
“I don’t smoke pot. Keep your voice down,” Gaara laughs, shaking his head.
“No one can hear us,” Sakura scoffs.
“Just in case they can.”
“ Smokes pot. He smokes pot,” Sakura snorts.
“Once in a while. Kankuro does, too. It’s actually quite common in Suna--”
“I can’t believe you’re the Kazekage and you smoke pot.”
“Shhh,” Gaara continues to laugh, his shoulders shaking with it. “I’m serious, someone will hear.”
“It’s your turn for a secret. You said you would go next,” Sakura crosses her arms.
“Hmm,” Gaara looks up into the trees to think, his head tipping back against the bark. “I cheat at every game of dice I play.”
“Why?” Sakura laughs. “That’s barely a secret, anyways. I told you something good!”
“Was that not good?” Gaara hums, realizing he never answered her question. “I don’t like to lose.”
“So is it just dice?” Sakura narrows her eyes. “What else do you cheat on?”
“Are you implying I cheat on women?”
“You’d better not.”
“It’s very flattering that you think someone else would have me.”
“That’s not what you’re supposed to say!”
“I don’t think I’ve ever said the right thing in my entire life!”
Some truth always lingers in Gaara’s jokes, dry as they are. Sakura never realized that perhaps this is an insecurity of sorts for Gaara- never quite being able to match up with somebody on an emotional level. That’s part of the reason why he constantly asks his stupid little questions, always searching for clarification, for a sense of correctness that doesn’t exist when it comes to human interactions. Through a lighthearted laugh, she sees more of him.
~
Sakura notices that by the time they get to the desert, Gaara seems much more relaxed. She, on the other hand, despises it. It’s a long, boring walk, and there’s absolutely nothing to look at.
Gaara, however, seems completely at ease. It’s so much so that even when they’re met with border bandits (a common occurrence at village gates) he takes care of them just by lifting his arm, a wave of sand washing over them.
“Annoying,” is what he says, in that monotone drawl of his, but what Sakura sees is how he didn’t kill them. Instead, he’s just knocked them out. It’s oddly pacifistic of him. Even a little bit kind.
Baki meets them at the gates, while an attendant fusses over Gaara, tutting and asking questions about the walk, if he’s injured, how’s that bad back of his?, and if he’s had something to eat.
“He’s just fine,” chirps Sakura, rather interrumpant and maybe a tad bit jealous.
“You got here rather quickly,” says Baki, bowing to each of them in greeting.
“Sakura has a quick pace.”
“It’s actually very fitting that she’s here,” says Baki. “We have much to discuss.”
~
In Konoha, things never stop moving. In Suna, Sakura feels like things stand still. It’s much smaller, quieter, only loud at night when the night-goers are awake and the restaurants stay open late. During the daytime, the village is very quaint and the streets don’t look very lavish at all. Simplicity is a running theme. Sakura likes it here, she does. But the only sense of home she has here is Gaara’s bed- everywhere else is intimidating.
“What did you need to speak with me about? You mentioned it was important,” Gaara says, trailing behind Baki just-so in his steps.
Baki stops, sighing. “The council thrives when you’re gone,” he says bluntly.
Gaara’s face shows no signs of offense or concern. “This isn’t news.”
“Gaara, the discourse is getting bad.”
“It’s always been bad.”
“Worse now. It took hours for me to convince them not to tail you. They were going to send spies.”
Gaara pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing exasperatedly. “I don’t know what else to possibly do.”
“They’re frustrated that you’re so defiant.”
“I am the Kazekage. I--”
“They want you to get married, Gaara. They think it’s disgraceful,” Baki says, “and they’re not backing down from it.” He looks carefully at Sakura, who’s avoiding his gaze.
“We discussed this months ago,” says Sakura, before Gaara can speak, “and it’s still ‘no.’”
It’s not that Gaara is offended. He doesn’t need Sakura to marry him to know that she loves him, he doesn’t need a ceremony or a fancy ring, he doesn’t need her to move here or uproot her life or anything of the sort. Most of all, he thrives in knowing that she’s happy, and being used as a pawn in a political game will do just the opposite. He knows that all too well. But the ‘no’ comes far too quick for his liking.
“Sakura is right,” Gaara says, jaw setting, his eyes averting hers and focusing on Baki. “There’s no need to discuss it anymore.”
He motions for Baki to hold his next comment, ignoring the uncomfortable pull he feels in his chest, the unease that he’s been carrying this entire trip. While he does this, he holds his hand out to raise some sand from the ground, fashioning a key to his house and then handing it to Sakura. Typically the door can only be unlocked by his sand- unless through a chakra infused key such as this. “You can head back to mine. I’ll stop by and talk to the council.”
~
When Gaara gets home (late) that evening, it not only feels like deja vu from the last time they’d fought about this, there’s something else heavier hanging over him. A mess of this was supposed to be a fun few days and what else can I possibly do and why do I feel this way swirls around in his mind while he walks home, letting himself in.
Sakura is curled up on his couch, a thin blanket over her legs, poring over a book that she’d presumably plucked straight from his bookshelf. “Hi,” she hums lightly, “it’s late.”
Gaara’s back is full of knots and stress, and he has to use chakra to take some of the weight off of his back as he unties the gourd. Maybe he does need to stop carrying it around, he thinks, as he levitates it to a different side of the room. “It is,” he agrees tiredly, and momentarily disappears into his bedroom to find something more comfortable to change into.
“Are you feeling alright?” Sakura calls after him, as he stalks around the house, looking skinnier and broodier than ever. He hasn’t joined her on the couch yet.
Gaara thinks carefully about his response from the top of the stairs as he descends, and when he gets to the bottom, he says a simple, “No.”
Sakura’s expression shifts to one of concern, and she reaches out her hands, motioning for him to come closer. “Well, come here. Long day? You’re probably exhausted from walking today, too.”
Gaara shrugs. Physically, his muscles ache. Mentally, he feels incredibly sad and inadequate. But his sense of logic trumps his emotions here, and he knows there’s no solution. In addition, he also knows that he needs to stop thinking so much about the notion of marriage. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. He’ll take the criticism of the council for as long as they want him to if it means that Sakura is comfortable. More than anything, he doesn’t want his title or his job to make her leave. The spotlight certainly isn’t for everyone. He can’t possibly expect Sakura to suddenly want to live this kind of life.
“Can you use some medical ninjutsu on my back?” He asks, for lack of anything else substantial, his shoulders sagging as he sits on the couch in front of her, listening to her say “of course” and shuffle to put the book away. “Please?” He adds.
“Is it your shoulders again?” Sakura murmurs, rubbing them over his shirt, searching for knots and areas of stress. “Here, take this off.”
Gaara puts his arms up while Sakura tugs the shirt over his head. “You’re using a lot of chakra,” she says, while her hands are on his bare skin, “are you trying to use it to dull some sort of ache? I can feel it.”
“I don’t know,” Gaara mutters, “I do it unconsciously.”
Sakura is impeccably confused at his demeanor, tipping her head to the side and leaning forward to look at him. “Gaara, is everything alright?”
“I am very stressed and upset,” he says quietly, “about a number of things, some of which are mostly politics and don’t have anything to do with you. But some have to do with you, too, and they’re not your fault. I have a lot on my mind.”
Like always, Gaara is vague and unhelpful in his explanation of- well, everything. “I’m sorry you’re stressed,” Sakura says first, her fingers glowing green while she smooths them over Gaara’s bare shoulders. “Tell me what you’re stressed about?”
“Do you not want to get married… ever?” Gaara asks, and the question startles her so much that the medical chakra coming from her fingertips suddenly stops.
“Love,” she starts, “it’s so much more than that. It’s not that I don’t want to…”
“It’s not marriage. I don’t care about marriage. I care that I love you so much that it’s starting to hurt.” Gaara’s head hangs down while his eyes are trained on the floor, staring stupidly ahead. He hears the buzz of chakra in his ears again while Sakura’s hands start again. There’s a slight tremble in them now.
“I love you,” is what Sakura says first, “but--”
The ‘but’ is what gets Gaara instantly, the disclaimer, the realization that there always has to be some sort of catch in anything remotely positive that happens to him.
“...but right now, I’m in a strange place. I have a lot going on. I can’t just… drop everything and get married.”
“And I know that. I know that,” Gaara says, something that he thinks about a lot. “And your comfort and confidence and peace and everything in between is important to me. Of course it is. I just feel…” absentmindedly, he clutches at his chest. “When I’m away from you, I feel like a part of me is missing. And I wonder if soon enough… when the world decides that it’s time, if you’ll ever be ready. Because your life is immensely different than mine, and I don’t think you want to change that.”
He feels out of breath when he says all this, spilling emotions like someone’s knocked over an inkwell, wide eyes fixed on the carpet in front of him because he doesn’t know what else to look at and it sure as hell won’t be Sakura.
“I don’t understand why you have to figure this out now,” Sakura says gently. “Can’t we enjoy where we are? Gaara, you said it yourself. You’re the Kazekage. The opinion of the council doesn’t matter.”
“I’m worried you’ll leave,” Gaara says simply, and the way his shoulders tense under her fingers speaks more than his words. “Perhaps that is selfish and immature of me, but…”
Gaara knows that a lot of his thought process is such. He doesn’t quite know how to filter them, is always learning, and his love of logic and facts often comes before his emotional intelligence as well.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Sakura says firmly, and the couch dips as she gets up off it, instead coming around so she can look at him. She bends down slightly, taking his face in her hands, tipping it up from where he’s staring at the ground. “Do you hear me?”
Gaara’s eyes are wide, nervous. “Yes.”
“I promise. There’ll be a time when we’ll be able to be together, and no one will have anything to say about it, and… it’ll be perfect. And I promise you that no matter what happens in between, it’ll happen. I promise.”
Sakura wonders how many people have left Gaara behind for him to want her to stay so badly.
“There is no one else but you for me,” he says, his voice unwavering. “No matter what.”
There’s a lot burdening him. The weight of the impending war creeps on the back of his neck, constantly skittering over his skin and reminding him of the first attack he bore an unfortunate witness to. He wonders where they’ll be once it’s all over, whether they’ll even be alive, and now it’s all coming to pass through him.
“We have all the time in the world,” Sakura whispers. As she lets one of her hands drop from his cheek, she moves to sit on his lap, arms wound around his neck, against bare skin and sharp bones. “Just be here with me right now. And we’ll have plenty of time to think about years from now.”
More than anything, Sakura believes they are soulmates. The uncertainty that bubbles up inside of her always mellows when she remembers that Gaara is the most consistent person she’s ever encountered: one who doesn’t break his promises, who stands sturdy against the weight of anything, who bears anything that you’ll let him carry.
“I love you,” says Gaara; the words never feel foreign on his tongue when he says them to Sakura.
“I love you, too. I don’t want you to ever doubt that I do,” Sakura says, “and that I’m here for you… and I want you to lean on me… you can lean on me.”
“If I leaned all the way, you’d fall right over,” Gaara murmurs.
“Don’t you know I’m second to Tsunade in strength?” Sakura teases gently, her face right next to his when she speaks. She presses a kiss to his cheek, his jaw, just below his ear.
“I sometimes forget how remarkable you are.” Gaara leans back on the couch, resting his hand on the small of her back. He tips his other hand under her chin to kiss her gently, chaste and brief, although he can’t help the way his lips chase hers for a second one right after. “I love when I’m with you,” he says genuinely.
“I felt very special when you asked me to accompany you here,” Sakura confesses with a soft laugh.
“I just didn’t want to be apart from you again,” Gaara says honestly. “Surely we do enough of that… coming home to you is… special.”
“You think so?” Sakura’s cheeks heat up just slightly at the way Gaara talks about her like she’s so golden.
“Of course. You make everything better,” Gaara hums, “I miss you when you’re not around.”
“I love being here when you come home. To make sure that you… eat something, and actually change out of your Kazekage things, and get some rest,” Sakura says. “I like telling you about my day, and laying on your couch, and wearing your clothes… I like falling asleep in your bed and hoping I don’t snore…” she laughs, shaking her head.
“We can have all of that,” Gaara says, eyes closed while their lips touch again, “whenever you’re ready.”
Sakura responds with a smile and a deeper kiss, the kind that makes her grab onto the back of his neck and feel her fingers in his hair. Against her, Gaara is warm and steady, and she likes the weight of his hand on her leg, just barely poking past the fabric of her skirt. Her breathing gets heavier as she moves to straddle his lap, now, kissing him properly.
“You’re making my day less stressful already,” Gaara hums against her lips, eyes closed, smiling.
“Purely here on stress relief,” Sakura jokes in return, “that’s how I convinced Tsunade to come here.”
“Mm, not quite,” Gaara says playfully, while his hands slide up her sides, and one moves to her back, starting to unzip her dress. “I beat Tsunade at dice.”
“This was a bet?” Sakura grins, watching as the straps of her dress fall to the side.
“Mhmm. You want to know how I won?” He asks, his lips ghosting over her collarbone.
“How?”
“I cheated.”
“If it ends like this… I’ll pretend it was a fair game.”