Author's Note: No, you're not losing your mind, yes I've decided to reupload. I've made some major edits to the story (this chapter is quite similar to the first go round), but during this time of weirdness and chaos, decided to devote more time to my writing and make sure I did this story justice with a more mature and less rushed take. So sorry if this is a disappointment to some, but I also appreciate your support and hope that you stick with me. any new readers - hey! Welcome. Hope you enjoy.

/

Chapter 1: Cake

It was hot.

Summers in Japan always were, Sakura felt positively stifled. Tanabata festival was on its way, which meant the evening's train was packed full of friends and family on their way to celebrate with loved ones. It was sheer luck that she'd been able to get a seat without an advance reservation. Gone were the days of first-class travel - that evening she blended in with the masses – no fussing, no fame – just one more sweaty, pallid face in a sea of many.

They were only moments from Tokyo and suddenly everything felt real. Sakura shifted anxiously in her seat.

"Mom stop squeezing so hard!" Sarada tried desperately to wrench her hand out of her mother's iron grip.

"Sorry." Sakura eased up a little but refused to let go. It had been ages since she'd felt so scared, and she needed someone to ground her - even if that someone happened to be a 10-year-old.

"When are we getting to grandma's?" The question made Sakura's skin itch. Sarada was normally a quiet child, but while the heat made Sakura panic, it made Sarada irritable.

"Soon." Sakura checked her watch and felt herself begin to sweat more intensely. They were on the last bullet train out of Sapporo for the night and approaching Tokyo quickly. They would have to get a bus from the station to Ueno, and then a taxi to her mother's house. Sakura hadn't worked out how she was going to afford either, or if she would be able to get there before the buses stopped running.

"How long is soon?" Sarada pushed. Sakura felt more sweat starting to bead on her upper lip and wiped it with the back of her free hand. She counted to five in her head to keep the irritation out of her voice.

"We're almost there." She pointed out the window at the rapidly approaching station platform. "Look."

Sarada clambered over her lap to get a good view.

"Yes!" She piped up. "Is dad gonna meet us at Grandma's?"

Sakura hesitated. "Dad is…dad's stuck at work, Sarada. You know that."

"But mom he's always—

"—Sarada, please. Give it a rest!"

The train jerked to a stop and Sakura could feel the heat of the other passenger's stares burning down her neck. She lifted the frowning girl into her arms in preparation to disembark.

/

Several rows up in the first-class train car, Gaara lamented life.

He hated train rides.

Excessive noise was one of his biggest pet peeves, and despite investing in a stupidly expensive set of noise-cancelling headphones, the mechanical hum of the train and its parts disturbed his usual meditative ease. First Class seats or no, he could never get any work done. Temari would probably say he shouldn't be working anyway, that train rides were the perfect opportunity to "relax," but just the mere mention of 'relaxation' made Gaara cringe.

But when Gaara caught sight of the city lights and approaching train platform, the tension in his shoulders slowly began to unwind. It was always good to be home.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and a message notification popped up on his laptop screen. Gaara didn't want to look, didn't want to imagine what kind of task his father or any other associate had cooked up for him at 11:30pm, but when he saw it was accompanied by a picture of Temari, let the scowl fall from his lips. The photo always stirred something in him. Temari together with her son Shikadai against an elaborate garden background of cherry blossoms. She was giving an uncharacteristically sweet smile and peace sign, while the young boy looked a mix of bored and embarrassed.

Pickup your goddamn phone, the message read.

What now? Gaara wondered. He entertained the idea of ignoring it, but as if sensing the defiance, a series of shorter messages flashed on the screen in quick succession.

Im not fucking around Gaara

I know u have service

pick up!

now!

As irritating as Temari could be at times, Gaara knew it was best to stay on his older sister's good side. He picked up the call.

"Gaara speaking."

Temari snickered into the mouthpiece. "Well aren't you polite, little brother."

Gaara resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Temari, I'm exhausted. Is there something you need from me?"

"Hey now… I'm just checking in. I thought you'd be home already. It's late, you know."

"I'm on my way." He checked his watch. "The train is pulling in now and I'll get a car home."

Temari made an unimpressed sound in her throat, and Gaara paused, thinking. "Are you in my apartment?"

"What's with the attitude? You've been out of the country for months. Don't you want to see your big sister?" Temari deftly avoided the question, and Gaara decided to follow suit. In his mind's eye he could see her rifling through his drawers with glee.

"I'll be there in 35. Don't touch anything." He hung up before the blonde could pepper him with more questions.

Just as he tucked his phone away, the other travellers around him began to pick up and move. Gaara gave a small sigh of relief. He hadn't slept properly in weeks, and all he had been able to think about all day was a glass of cold black tea and to sink into a soft, warm bed.

He'd planned to get off the train and head straight to arrivals to meet his driver, but as soon as he stepped onto the platform there was a commotion.

"Dad was right! You're such a psycho!"

A little girl, red in the face, was yelling down the platform. There was no mother in sight, and around her, older passengers clucked disapprovingly.

"No wonder he hates you!" she cried.

"You stop right there!" A woman's voice cut through the scream, and Gaara turned his head towards the sound. Before he knew what was happening, a flurry of pink hair whizzed past, and the girl was snatched up by the arm.

"You're too old for this, Sarada!" she hissed. She sounded young, and he felt a twinge of sympathy mixed with embarrassment. He'd planned to trudge on, head down, perhaps with a disapproving frown of his own, but something stopped him.

Although the rest of the platform surged ahead, Gaara couldn't help but fixate on the pink-haired mother. When she turned to face him head on, it was like being kicked in the gut. He'd seen pink-haired punks quite a few times over the years, but this was different. Those eyes… he'd recognise those eyes anywhere. Time had changed her, but not enough.

"Sakura?"

He hadn't meant to call out to her. Hadn't expected his voice to sound so soft – so pathetic. But there he was, suitcase in hand, slack jawed, feeling very much like a kid instead of a 31-year-old man.

"G-gaara." Sakura's voice sounded choked.

While she stared, Gaara drank her in. She was definitely not a kid anymore. Though still rail thin, there was no denying the matureness in the curves of her hips and chest, especially in that short summer dress. He remembered her pink hair always pin-straight and neat, but in the heat of the evening it was sweat-dampened and hung limply around her face. Long, slim legs, wide green eyes - she looked like a deer in headlights.

"Wow, it's…" She made a feeble attempt to straighten her hair with her fingers. "It's been…"

"Mom, who's this?" Sarada yanked her elbow free and held on to the back of Sakura's dress. It was then that Gaara took in the little girl more fully, and her striking resemblance to someone else he once knew. She couldn't have been more than 9 or 10 but there was no mistaking whose daughter she was. The jet-black hair, the brooding face… the only thing that wasn't Uchiha were her eyes. They weren't the same soft green as her mother's, but even behind a pair of red rimmed glasses, the shape – expressive, bright – that was pure Sakura.

"Sarada this is my…" Sakura hesitated before moving the young girl out from behind her skirt. "This is an old friend. Gaara."

Gaara found himself defaulting into uncle-mode. He crouched to shake her hand, but Sarada backed away with a hard glare.

"Hey Sarada," he tried, but Sarada puffed her cheeks and kept her lips set in thin line.

"Sorry. She's not usually so..." Sakura trailed off as Gaara rose back up to full height. Gaara noted the slight flush on her cheeks, but also the sweat on her collarbone. Though part of him would have liked to think was a reaction to him, he was keenly aware of the heat.

"It's fine," he cut her short.

Sakura touched her hair again in another futile attempt to smooth it into place. This time, her hand came away noticeably damp. She could only imagine what she looked like – a sweat drenched pink rat in last season's Lily Pulitzer. And there he was, pristine even in Tokyo summer. It was a sharp inversion from the way things used to be between them. The spiky red hair she remembered from college was neatly parted and slicked down, and in a tailored business suit, Gaara looked like something out of a high fashion magazine. Back in school he'd never seemed particularly studious, but clearly something had paid off.

"You look really well," she said.

She was trying to make small talk, but Gaara couldn't help but notice the odd way she kept fiddling with her hair. Gaara opened his mouth to say something, but Sarada tugged urgently at Sakura's dress.

"Mom…" she whined. "I'm tired. Let's go see Grandma now."

"Sarada, just a little bit longer. Mom's having a conversation." Sakura gave Gaara an embarrassed smile, but he looked away. As uneasy as it was, the sight of her plump lips curved up in such a familiar way made his head hurt.

"It's no trouble. It wasn't my intention to hold you up." He checked his watch. "It was good to see you, Sakura."

Sakura twisted the strap of her purse with her free hand. She hadn't expected him to be so abrupt. "Yeah. You too," she mumbled.

Gaara turned his back on the two and started to push his suitcase down the platform. Of all the people to run into, Sakura Haruno was the last one he'd expected. It had been ten years since he'd seen her, and their last meeting hadn't exactly ended on good terms.

Halfway down the platform, he stopped. He should have wanted to escape her but walking away was like trudging through sand. Gaara wasn't an idiot – he worked with numbers all day and knew when things weren't adding up. He could see it in Sakura's strained smile and hear it in the tone of her voice.

Behind him, Sakura held Sarada to the front of her legs, watching Gaara walk away. She felt sick and embarrassed after seeing him after so many years, but just as she started to turn, Gaara closed the distance between them again with quick, long strides.

"Where are you two headed?" He asked.

"Huh?" Sakura was caught off guard, but quickly recovered. "I mean – my parents'! Ueno! We're in town visiting while Sarada's on summer vacation. She's expecting us!" She tried to seem calm, but again, Gaara could feel something was off. It was just a little too much information to ring true. Aside from Sakura's small purse and Sarada's pink backpack the two weren't carrying any luggage. And Sakura shifted oddly from foot to foot, as if they were paining her.

"Mom I'm tired. Let's go already," Sarada whined again, and Gaara gave his watch a glance. It was late, and if Sakura didn't have someone coming to pick her up it would be dangerous to travel all the way out to Ueno at night.

"I can give you a ride out there. My driver should be here shortly." Gaara gave his phone a glance, and saw there was another new message, this time from a completely different number. He stared at the picture next to the contact name – a confident-looking woman with a glamorous work photo. Long dark hair, glossy white skin.

Back in town? How about a midnight snack? ;)

He turned the screen off.

Oblivious to the pause, Sakura went red. Do I really look so desperate? She wondered. Her first thought was to refuse and make up an elaborate excuse, but with Sarada whining and tugging at her dress, Sakura could feel what little semblance of control she thought she had, slowly fading away.

"Gaara I…" She wrung her hands a little, but then bowed low. "I'd really appreciate it."

Uncomfortable with the show of gratitude, Gaara turned his attention back to his phone. Another message came in, this time from his father.

I see your flight landed an hour ago. Let's have a conference call tomorrow morning. Early.

Gaara could read the impatience in every word.

"It's no trouble." He turned back to Sakura. "I just have to stop at my apartment to pick up some documents if that's not a problem."

"No, no! Of course not! Do anything you need!" Sakura bowed low again. She felt ridiculous prostrating herself in front of a former classmate but didn't know what else to do. It had been 10 years since she'd seen Gaara, and sweaty and frantic certainly hadn't been the way she wanted to make a reunion appearance. Still clutching Sarada's hand for dear life, she followed dutifully behind him.

Sakura had never been more glad that Gaara's dislike for small talk hadn't changed. He stared out at the loading bay, one hand in his pocket, the other on his suitcase handle. He was taller than she remembered, and much more put together. It was something more than a new haircut or what looked like a very expensive suit – it was the way he carried himself. The refinedness of it all.

After about ten minutes of awkward silence, a black Lexus rolled up to the pickup area. A portly older man with close cropped hair opened his door and greeted Gaara.

"Welcome home. Always a pleasure, sir." The driver opened the door to the backseat, but Gaara took one look at the sleepy looking Sarada and opened the passenger side door.

"I'll sit up here, thanks." He placed his briefcase inside and then opened the door to the backseat for Sakura and Sarada. The driver watched the scene with amused interest.

"Thank you Gaara." Sakura tried a warmer smile, but the redhead refused to meet her gaze. Oblivious, Sarada bounced inside with a sudden renewed vigour.

The ride out to Gaara's apartment was in relative silence. Sakura drifted in and out of sleep, and Gaara looked into the rear-view mirror to watch her. When he really studied her, it was hard to find a trace of the girl he knew before. There were same long pink locks, the same green eyes, but there was a wornness – a worry about her that made Gaara uncomfortable. She seemed thinner, too. Too thin.

Gaara had so many questions he wanted answers to, but each time her eyes fluttered open and he caught a glimpse of that soft green, they stuck in his throat. He was grateful when the car finally pulled up to his apartment complex.

"I'll just be a moment," Gaara said over his shoulder. But just as he stepped out, Sarada began to jostle Sakura's shoulder.

"Mom, I have to use the bathroom!" Sarada's whine carried over to Gaara's ears and he looked to Sakura, who seemed red enough to start another life as a tomato.

"Gaara I'm really sor—

"—It's no trouble at all," Gaara interrupted, and gestured with his hand for her to follow.

As soon as she stepped out of the car, Sakura's eyes went wide. She'd visited Azabu once or twice when Sasuke used to take her to fancy business dinners, but it had been years since she'd seen it again in person. The luxury neighbourhood reminded her of carefree days spent lunching with other housewives and groups of American expats who had little cares outside of school rankings and the latest new brunch spot. Gaara's complex was massive, and incredibly well-kept. Even the surrounding shrubbery was clipped into perfect geometric shapes.

As they made their way to the front of the building, he paused briefly at the sight of a shiny white Mercedes in his designated parking spot.

'Temari.'

He sighed. For whatever reason, Sakura seemed unusually skittish and he wasn't sure being faced with his older sisters' overbearing presence was exactly what she needed.

"Mama…" Sarada tried her 'whisper' again, and Sakura gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Almost there. Be patient," she cooed.

"Welcome home, Gaara." The concierge at the front desk gave a nod to Gaara before doing a double take at the pink-haired woman and her daughter. He smiled. "…and company."

Gaara gave the man a look that screamed, 'mind your own business' before guiding Sakura and Sarada into one of the elevators. Sakura watched in awe as the glass lift rose, and they were able to see a 360 view of the floors beneath them. As they ascended, the inside of the building broke away to reveal a stunning view of the Tokyo skyline. Even Sarada had stopped whining and had her face pressed up against the glass in awe.

"Shit," Sakura blurted. Gaara snapped his gaze to look at Sakura, who had covered her mouth with both hands.

He smirked. Strangely enough, the curse had made him feel more relaxed. The elevator stopped at the 14th floor, and Gaara led them to the front door of his apartment.

"Sorry I – I just mean…you've done so well for yourself, Gaara." Sakura took hold of Sarada's hand again. "Your place… It's wonderful."

Gaara was mute. He usually ignored most compliments - in his experience, they usually came with strings attached - but there was something about Sakura's kindness that made him upset. He, of all people, didn't deserve it. Instead of thanking her, he changed the subject.

"The restroom is at the very end of the hall. On the right." He finally found the electric fob and pressed it against the lock screen on the doorframe. "I'll only be a few—

"—WELCOME HOME!"

The moment Gaara pushed the door open, there was a burst of noise and light. Sakura, Sarada, and Gaara jumped back in shock at the chaos in front of them. Though Gaara had expected Temari to be bumbling around somewhere drinking his wine, there were a number of guests in the front hall of Gaara's apartment, waving streamers and making noise.

Naruto was front and centre, followed close behind by Lee, Kiba, Kankuro, and Temari.

Sakura's face fell. All at once, she was confronted by a wall of joyful faces she hadn't seen in years. And as they recognised her, one by one, their smiles slowly faded. Terrified, Sarada rushed behind Sakura's legs and clung on for dear life.

"Fuck! No way! S-sakura-chan! Sakura-chan, is that really you?" Naruto dropped his noisemaker on the floor. Before Sakura could even stammer a response, he launched himself into her arms.

"SAKURA-CHAAAAAANNN!"

Sakura yelped as the blonde swung her around in his arms, narrowly missing knocking a piece of spiral glass artwork to the floor. He was much taller than she remembered, with his spiky blonde locks buzzed down to a more mature look.

Ino, Hinata, and Tenten were at Gaara's wet bar sipping cocktails, but the moment they heard Sakura's name, came rushing to the front door. Ino was first, practically hurling Naruto out of the way to get a good look at her old friend.

"Well isn't this something!" She folded her arms over her ample chest, a dark smirk on her lips. "You don't call, you don't write… and now?"

Still standing dumbly in the doorway, Gaara surveyed the tension between the two, and beside him, Temari holding a champagne flute, looked a cross between shocked and amused.

"Who's this little one?" Hinata spoke up in an attempt to bring a bit of lightness back to the room. Sakura smiled - she could always count on her for a bit of relief. While Ino fumed, Hinata crouched and extended a hand to Sarada.

"I'm Sarada Uchiha!" Sarada said proudly.

If possible, the silence in the room became even deeper.

"Oh my, yes. She looks just like him." Hinata gave Sakura a tentative smile. "Sasuke-kun."

"Poor Sarada-chan," Naruto joked, and although the joke surely went over Sarada's head, Kiba was quick to give Naruto a hard slap across his.

"She's very much a daddy's girl." Sakura spoke for the first time, forcing a smile. Though Hinata smiled encouragingly, there was still an awkward air in the room.

At the very mention of Sasuke, Gaara pushed his suitcase the rest of the way inside and headed straight for his bedroom. Though the rest of the house guests were focused on Sakura, Kankuro watched his little brother with interest. He knew Gaara had never been one for much socialising, but his current mood was far beyond a bit of introvert's discomfort.

Although Ino still looked at her former friend with contempt, Tenten and Lee came forward to put their arms around Sakura.

"It's been a long time, Sakura-chan." Tenten pushed a frizzy strand of hair out of Sakura's face and tucked it behind her ear. "You look so mature. And a mother now. Fuck! Congratulations."

"It's just a pity I missed the chance to make you mine," Lee joked, earning a little smile from Sakura.

"I…" Sakura held on to Sarada's shoulders for support. "I really—

"—cut the stammering. Where the f-u-c-k have you been all these years?" Ino butt in, clearly still fuming, but at the same time conscious of the little ears in the room. "Where's Sasuke?"

Gaara had just exited his bedroom when he heard the angry question. Sakura stood dumbly, opening and closing her mouth in an obvious struggle.

The rest of the group stood awkwardly but were clearly too curious to intercept on her behalf.

"Dad is…" Sarada started, and Sakura immediately looked alarmed. Temari caught it quickly and stepped in between them.

"Let's not do this now." Temari smiled and swung an arm over Sakura's shoulders. "Looks like we have an old friend here, Gaara's finally back home… we've got champagne and tequila… let's celebrate!"

Though Ino still looked thoroughly disgusted, a chorus of cheers sparked throughout the sitting room. Just as Naruto jumped forward to smash Sakura into another hug, Gaara slunk out to the balcony.

"So, she's…. different for you." Kankuro caught his little brother just as he managed to slink outside.

Instead of facing him head on, Gaara slid the balcony door shut with his foot and looked out over the railing. Years of unsolicited sex tips and dating advice from the tattooed club owner told him never to give an inch, because Kankuro would surely take a mile.

"Hey, I thought you said you gave that up." Kankuro gestured to the pack of Seven Stars poking out of Gaara's shirt pocket.

Gaara's shoulders stiffened up, and though his tongue ached for the sharp, smoky taste of tobacco, he folded both arms against his chest. "You never really give these things up."

"Damn, you're more like dad every day." Kankuro smiled, but then regretted the joke when he saw Gaara's lips curl into a snarl.

"I'm not in the mood." He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a lighter to go along with the box of cigarettes. It was a cheap, plastic off-brand and neither were surprised when it didn't spark right away. With each flicker Kankuro winced, feeling the flame of his brother's temper building fast. As a child Gaara's dark moods had been uncomfortable to deal with, but as a man, there was something fear-inducing about them.

"So…" Kankuro tried to change the subject. "Who's this 'old friend'? Were you two gonna…?" He made a lewd gesture with his finger and a fist.

At that moment, Gaara managed to find a flame with the lighter.

"Sakura is a friend from university. I was giving her a ride to her mother's place in Ueno." He placed a cigarette in his mouth and cupped a hand around the flame to catch it before it could disappear. He closed his eyes and took a slow drag in. "She has a child, Kankuro," he added with disgust.

"Hey, kids sleep," Kankuro joked. "Besides… didn't you hear? Apparently, it's with Sasuke Uchiha. I've always heard he was a massive dick." Kankuro chuckled to himself when Gaara remained mute. "And I've never seen her face in the tabloids – you think she's a side piece?"

Gaara glared out over the railing and took another hard drag on the cigarette. "She's wearing a ring, if you didn't notice."

"As if that means something nowadays," Kankuro scoffed. "He runs one of the biggest banks in Tokyo. I know you're friends or whatever, but if they're actually married, 100 bucks says her husband is regularly balls deep in plenty of other-"

"Who's smoking out here?" Temari's voice cut Kankuro short, and Gaara nearly burned himself trying to hide the cigarette behind his back. When he turned, his sister and Sakura were standing in the doorway to the balcony. Temari's lips were curved wide with an impish grin, but Sakura's face was devoid of emotion. Through the frosted glass doors Gaara could just barely make out Sarada happily being fussed over by Hinata and Tenten.

"Me." Kankuro picked up the cigarette box from the railing and tucked them in his back pocket. "Sorry sis."

Gaara didn't make eye contact with his brother but was glad for the save.

"Really, Kanks? You know how disgusting I think that is. You're as bad as dad." Temari rolled her eyes. "Anyway… I was just trying to convince Sakura that she should stay and celebrate with us tonight. We don't mind, do we?"

"Of course not!" Kankuro raised his glass to the blushing woman next to his sister.

"Gaara's been on business in London for six months now, so the more friends the merrier. We'll order a bit more food and booze and make it a big party," he urged. "Anything you want and…"

Gaara watched Sakura's expression as his brother rattled on and noticed the way her eyes were trained on the floor in front of her. The way she dug her nails into her palms, the subtle tremble to her limbs. It was beyond normal embarrassment. She looked almost… annoyed.

"I appreciate it Temari. Kankuro. But I really didn't mean to impose like this. Gaara's probably exhausted, and—

"—no," Gaara interrupted Sakura, and when she lifted her gaze from the floor to meet his, gave a firm nod. "Stay. You and Sarada enjoy yourselves."

Behind Sakura's back, Kankuro and Temari exchanged curious looks. Although they were both intrigued by the woman Gaara brought into his home, they were surprised by his sudden charitable nature.

"Hear that? We all want to have you!" Temari grabbed Sakura's arm with a grin and mouthed a 'thank you' to Gaara before dragging the woman back inside. "Now come on, let's get you a drink! Or two! Or three!"

"How unusually generous of you," Kankuro smirked. "Sure you didn't bring her to bang?"

Gaara ignored the remark and looked out over the balcony. Generous? He thought. If only it were that simple.

"It's late. There's no point in travelling now. I'll let them take the car to Ueno in the morning." Gaara finished off the last of his cigarette and reached for another.

Kankuro started to make another joke, but when Gaara hardened his gaze out over the skyline, he could sense his brother wasn't in the mood. He tried to change the subject.

"Everything go okay in London? I heard that you and Shijima…"

Gaara lit up again and rubbed the back of his head vigorously, as if trying to shake thoughts loose.

"We're adults," he said. "She took it as well as to be expected."

"Well, I mean I have to ask… did that have anything to do with this one?" Kankuro took a sip of his beer and gestured toward the house. "She an old flame or something? Did you guys get in contact recently? Start something up?"

"Of course not. Today was a coincidence."

"Hey- I only ask because I don't know…it seemed sudden. You and Shijima were together for a while and now you're not. And suddenly this new chick is here out of nowhere…"

"Enough of this," Gaara snapped. "I have more important things on my plate than women."

"You kidding? What the hell's more important than women?" Kankuro laughed, but knew well enough not to push any further.

He wasn't like Temari, but more like Rasa in the way he dealt with people. He didn't always need to know all the details and was never the one to push difficult situations. So when Gaara said enough was enough, he backed off.

"I'll see you inside." He gave Gaara's back a slap before stepping back into the house.

Gaara was able to smoke two and a half more cigarettes before anyone realized he was missing.

"Temari said I should grab you for cake and toasts." Shikamaru emerged on the balcony while Gaara was in mid-exhale. "She also said if you keep her waiting, she'll throw you over the railing."

"Yikes." Gaara quickly crushed the stub of a cigarette before turning to face his brother-in-law. Shikamaru couldn't help but smirk.

"Don't worry, my lips are sealed." Shikamaru gestured to the ash on the railing. "I'm sure Temari finding out would be just as troublesome for me as it would be for you."

Gaara nodded, but instead of even offering a smile, stared dimly into the house.

"You alright?" Shikamaru gave a glance inside to where the group was surrounding Sakura.

"I think I'd be a lot better if people stopped asking me that," Gaara muttered, but Shikamaru shrugged and looked up to the sky.

"Well whatever it is..." he sighed out. "These things pass."

When Gaara returned inside, Sakura looked far less self-conscious. She'd pulled her long hair up into a messy bun and she was talking rather animatedly about something Gaara couldn't quite hear. As she spoke, the rest of the group – save Ino – seemed enthralled, hanging on every word. He didn't blame them. There was something about her, something about her smile and the way her eyes lit up when she was happy. Something that made him want to shiver even in the heat of Tokyo summer. His eyes fell to the empty champagne glass in her hand, and another three beside her chair.

Well, I suppose it's always easy to be happy with a little help.

When he lifted his gaze back to her face, Sakura cast him a cheeky smile. It had been years since she'd smiled like that for him. She'd looked so foreign to him in the car, but the sudden brightness made everything much more familiar. It was obvious why he'd fallen in love with that smile, but dangerous, nonetheless.

"What were you doing out there so long?" Temari came up from behind and looped her arm through his, shaking the moment.

"Noth…" Gaara started, but Temari leaned in and sniffed. "...ing."

"You," she growled, catching a strong whiff of cigarette smoke. "We'll talk later." She gave his back a stiff pat.

"Gaara, there you are. Man of the hour! Have a drink!" Sakura hopped off the arm of the couch and picked up a fresh glass of champagne. Gaara stared at the flute, her hand, and the diamond ring on her finger, taunting him.

"I really shouldn't. I have a call in the morning. Early work," he explained. Behind him, the men in the apartment chorused groans of 'boo' and 'pussy.'

"Not even one?" Sakura pouted. She took another step closer and pressed the rim to her pouted lips before waving the glass just under Gaara's nose. His gaze was drawn to the sticky pink lip print she'd left on the rim. He always loved the look of her lips – so full and shimmery with some sort of gloss. That was one thing that hadn't changed.

"Not even for me?" Her tone was playful, with an erotic lilt that didn't go unnoticed by the men in the room. Kankuro concealed his smirk into a glass of whisky.

"I remember when you used to love to drink with me," Sakura murmured close to his ear, and for a second, Gaara lost track of everyone else in the room. She smiled, and a hot feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach. His head swam with intrusive thoughts – an image of him grabbing her around the waist, his mouth on her mouth, her hand sliding down the front of his trousers as he pulled her close.

"Just one." Gaara gave in and took the flute from her hand.

"You really do look great." Sakura gave his forearm a squeeze. Earlier on she'd looked so frazzled, but now she stood just a little too close, spoke a little too sweetly, flirted a little too much. If Gaara were a different man he might have taken advantage, but instead he distracted himself by searching the room for the mini-Uchiha. "Where's Sarada?"

At the mention of her daughter, Sakura forgot all about her drunken tease. "She was sleepy so we put her down in your spare room – is that okay?"

"Of course, that's fine." Gaara took a big swallow to distract himself from Sakura's doe-eyed gaze.

"Hey, let's do toasts!" Temari cut in holding a large sheet cake. Gaara normally didn't do sweets but seeing the way Sakura's eyes lit up at the sight of the sugar-laden treat, couldn't help but want to follow along.

The group gathered around the long table in Gaara's dining room – one that Temari had insisted he buy for hosting parties but had so frequently remained empty. That night, it was full and almost overflowing with alcohol and snacks. Gaara stood at one end with Sakura at the other. Their eyes met again and when she smiled, he felt a flash of warmth creep up the back of his neck. The thoughts washed over him again – Sakura on the table this time, her back smashed into the sugary sheet cake, his lips running over the sharp lines of her collarbones.

'Fuck.'

Gaara downed his champagne in attempt to distract himself, but when he looked up again, noticed Sakura's eyes were glassy and wet. Temari started off with a small speech, and slowly the toasts went around the length of the table.

"A toast to friendships!" Naruto raised his glass.

"A toast to reunions!" Lee cheered.

"A toast to girl power!" Tenten winked.

"A toast to getting to bed on time?" Gaara tried, and there was a tittering of laughter.

When it came back around to Sakura, they all tightened up the circle. Gaara expected something simple – a trite, happy, 'I'm so glad to be back,' but there was something in the way she clung to her drink that made him uneasy.

Tears pricking the corner of her eyes, Sakura raised her glass. "A toast to divorce."

A shocked silence came over the room. Even Kankuro, who had been secretly helping himself to finger scoops of frosting, stopped to stare. When there was no reaction, she doubled down. Tears streaming down her cheeks this time, she repeated it, louder.

"To fucking divorce!"

/xxXoXxx/

Author's note: So sorry to everyone who was waiting with bated breath for a continuation to the established story, but after a read-through, I realised I had to tweak things and be more clear/mature in how I approached this story. I can totally understand if you're annoyed and want to bail, but also thanks to everyone who has decided to hang in there. I've edited up to chapter 8 and will be reposting bit by bit (once a week) to space out and allow me to ensure I finish the story and don't leave everyone hanging again. Much love to everyone out there, and I hope everyone is well. Stay safe and healthy.