A/N: I have always been fond of the idea of a Sakura and Gaara pairing, but since I am still far from done with Return to Me, I know it won't really help me if I started another story. So I decided to come up with Come What May, a series of continuous one-shots that focus on one of my favorite pairings. This way, I don't have to pull my hair searching for plots and storylines (well, not much anyway).
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and I never will.
Summary: Takes place after Team Kakashi and Team Gai's mission to rescue Gaara. A late conversation between a certain pink-haired medic and the Kazekage.
She never understood the attraction of sitting on rooftops. It was too hot during the day, too cold during the night, and one would always be susceptible to bird droppings. Shikamaru did it to stare at the clouds—honestly, the boy should find another hobby—while Naruto did it to observe people from afar—she thought that was such a lonely concept, but then again, she'd never understood loneliness, not like he did.
But tonight, she found herself distinctly drawn to the rooftop of the guesthouse they had been given. Everyone was asleep, exhausted from their recent mission and she envied their ability to submit to their fatigue. Her muscles ached and everything within her screamed for rest, but she couldn't. She felt restless and not wanting to disturb the sleeping Tenten with her tossing and turning, she finally gave up and climbed out of the window, praying that Naruto and Kakashi—who shared a room next door—were tired enough to leave her be. As much as she loved their company, she didn't think she was up for it tonight.
She laid flat on the cold cement and stared up at the dark sky, brightened only by a smattering of stars and the occasional glimpse of a half moon. The nights, she reflected, were colder here and the scent that lingered in the air was vastly different than that in Konoha. Here, she could smell the sand—as strange as it sounded—and the faintest hint of spice. It wasn't a bad smell; in fact, it was oddly comforting.
"Can't sleep, kunoichi?"
She wondered why she wasn't startled. He had masked his chakra perfectly—not surprising, considering who he was—yet somehow, she had sensed his presence. She'd . . . she'd felt him.
"Yes," she answered simply. She knew it didn't faze him. She'd learned from Naruto that he couldn't sleep, that he feared what the creature within him would do if he did. Now, though, he wouldn't have to worry anymore.
As if she'd spoken her thoughts out loud, he said, "I still find the notion of sleeping difficult to comprehend. It's been so long—I find that it's more of a force of habit that keeps me awake now."
She didn't say anything, unable to think of an appropriate reply.
They were both quiet for so long that for a second, she wondered if he'd left. But then she heard him move, his soft steps almost tentative as he came to sit down a few feet away from her. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye; she didn't question his presence—he was the leader of this village; he could go anywhere he pleased—but she did wonder why he was here, sitting next to her.
She frowned slightly. It was odd, but she didn't feel afraid. This was the person who had tried to kill her, who'd tried to kill her friends and attack her village almost three years ago—she had every right to fear him, but she didn't. His red hair glistened underneath the pale moonlight and she recalled how soft the strands had felt underneath her fingers when she healed his wounds earlier. Such soft, silky hair—so unfitting for a person who seemed so cold.
"She was a great healer," he remarked in that quiet voice of his.
"Yes." She didn't need to ask who "she" meant. "She was amazing during our fight with the Akatsuki member."
He nodded, and then after a pause, asked, "Do you regret what she did?"
A delicate, pink eyebrow rose. "Nani?"
"Exchanging her life for mine," he clarified. "Do you wish she hadn't? Do you wish she had just left me to die?"
"Why would I wish that?"
"I tried to kill you," he reminded her bluntly. "I tried to kill your teammates. Wouldn't you have been happier if I'd died?"
"Revenge is such an ugly thing," she said softly, her eyes glistening as the image of a dearly-missed black-haired boy flitted through her mind. "I wouldn't want to live my life for the sake of avenging those who've hurt me and mine."
He knew who she spoke of and couldn't help but sound cynical as he asked, "Do you think he'll come back?"
She smiled sadly. "I hope so. Not a day has gone by that I don't hope so."
He glanced at her briefly before returning his gaze to the expansive desert before him. "You're a strange one, kunoichi. You say you don't want to live your life for the sake of revenge, but you're fine with living your life for the sake of a hope? Is that not more idiotic?"
She didn't take offense to his words. She recognized the genuine confusion in them, the subtle desire to understand. She knew his past—not fully, but understood it enough to ache for him. He'd never known compassion, had never felt the happiness of having friends.
"Hope is different from revenge. Hope gives you the strength to live on, to strive to achieve for peace," she explained. "Revenge—revenge is lonely, but hope . . . hope is warm. It may seem stupid to you, even a weakness, but I pray I'll never lose hope, because if I do . . . if I do . . ."
"If you do?" he prompted.
"Then I'll be cold," she answered. "I don't ever want to be cold."
"I don't want to be cold, too," he said, the words barely audible. She wondered if he realized he'd spoken them aloud, but she didn't comment on them, not wanting to expose his vulnerability.
"Let me ask you something," she said suddenly, breaking the silence that had once again fallen between them. "Do you regret what Chiyo-baa-sama did for you? Do you wish she had not exchanged her life for yours?"
"I . . . I believe the world would've been better off without me."
At his answer, she abruptly sprang to her feet and scowled at him. "Then you deserve to die!" she spat angrily. "If you believe that, then you deserve to be buried six feet underground!"
His eyes widened, then narrowed. "Do you forget who you're speaking to, kunoichi?" he said icily.
"I don't care!" she hissed. "Chiyo-baa-sama gave up her life because she believed that you were worth it, that you were worth so much more than her life. She gave up her life for you selflessly, regardless of the people she would never be able to see again. She gave her up life for you because she felt that you deserved the happiness you never had. So instead of wallowing in self pity, live for her, for the hope she had for you. Don't let her sacrifice be in vain. Take the chance you've been given and live your life with pride and dignity!"
She stopped her tirade to catch her breath and stared at him, the blood slowly flowing from her face. Around her ankles, she felt the soft, scratchy touch of sand and her heart beat a little faster. Great going, stupid, her inner voice chided, now you're going to find out first-hand why he calls it Sabaku Kyou.
Oh, shit. She licked lips suddenly gone dry. "I . . .I apologize," she said stiffly. "I spoke out of turn."
"Yes, you did," he agreed in a wry tone that, if she didn't know any better, bordered on sarcastic amusement.
Her fists clenched. "But I meant every word," she persisted stubbornly, ignoring the voice of caution screaming in her head. "Despite what you think, you're not alone. Not anymore."
He stared at her for a long time, his pale green gaze intensely penetrating. She felt as if a year had gone by before she finally felt the sand around her feet recede, disappearing as if it was never there and she slowly released the breath she had not realized she'd been holding.
"Maybe you're right and maybe you're not, kunoichi," he said. "Only time will tell."
She nodded, for lack of a better reply. "What Chiyo-baa-sama did . . . I only hope that if the time ever comes, I would be strong enough to do the same."
He cocked his head to the side and studied her closely. "You're talking about Naruto, aren't you?"
"Yes." Her fingers gripped the material of her shirt. "I won't—I can't—lose another person close to me. I'll do anything to make sure nothing happens to him."
"And he? Doesn't he have a say in this? Do you think he wants you to sacrifice yourself for him?"
"He's done it so many times for me. Now it's my turn."
"So that's it? That's why you're so willing to die for him? So you can one-up him?"
"No, damn it!" she snapped, anger bubbling within her again. "Don't you get it? Naruto's . . . Naruto's my . . ."
"Your what, kunoichi?"
"My precious person," she answered softly, her eyes, a shade brighter than his, misted. "He's my friend. Perhaps I haven't always thought so, but I do now. He's been hurt so much . . . I don't ever want him to go through it again. I couldn't save him when we were younger—I was even one of those who condemned him—but I can save him now. The things that they—that we—did to him, I have never felt sorrier. So, yes, I will do everything that I can, not only because Naruto is worth it, but also because I don't want to live the rest of my life with regret."
The look he gave her was long and hard and she could read the honest confusion in his eyes as he tried to comprehend her words. How did it feel, to question every action, to wonder if there were hidden motives behind each spoken word? How had it felt for him growing up, friendless and feared by those who should have protected him, loved him, unconditionally? She couldn't imagine such a life, couldn't imagine how she would have survived.
He survived by killing the people who were stupid enough to challenge him, her inner self reminded her in a dry voice.
Be quiet. He's not like that. Not anymore. He's . . . he's more mellow now.
Oh, yeah, right. That's why you still have some sand stuck between your toes.
Be quiet.
He moved, a small, faint action that almost made her take a step back, but she forced herself to stand her ground. The grunt that escaped his throat told her he was aware of her thoughts and was oddly amused by it.
"Go to bed, kunoichi. You're leaving in the morning so you'll need the energy," he told her.
She nodded again, whispered good-night and left him sitting alone on the rooftop, staring out into the vast desert that was his to rule.
The next morning, Gaara stood between his brother and sister as he held out his hand to the boy who had been responsible for showing him that fighting for the sake of a another person was so much better than fighting for oneself. The blonde shinobi stared at him for a moment, his blue eyes showing his surprise and then the patented idiotic grin crossed his whisker-marked face as he too extended his hand.
"You're all right, Gaara," Naruto said.
It was an odd remark but the Kazekage pushed aside his curiosity as his fingers tightened briefly around the other boy's. "Thank you, Naruto," he said awkwardly; he still had difficulties professing his thanks. Hell, he still had difficulties professing a lot of things.
His eyes strayed momentarily from the huge smile on the blonde-haired ninja's face to gaze upon the pink-haired figure that stood a few steps behind. She wore a small, gentle smile on her pretty face and her green eyes were warm as they rested on the linked hands of Naruto and the Kazekage.
"I don't want to live the rest of my life with regret."
Her words lingered in his head. It was puzzling, how they had affected him, how they had disturbed him during his meditation throughout the entire night.
He released Naruto's hand and took a step back. He surveyed the rest of the group and gave them an appreciative nod. "Be careful on the way back," he said.
"Of course! The power of the youth will protect us!"
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was astonishing that the green-clad boy could still be so exuberant even after the near-fatality of his shinobi career a few years ago. Recalling that he had been responsible for that, Gaara inwardly grimaced.
"Kunoichi." He didn't know what compelled him, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "The next time we speak I hope it will be under better conditions."
The others slanted the two of them looks of confusion, but a larger smile slowly spread across her face as she met his pale green gaze. She hadn't missed his emphasis on the word "hope" and she understood the meaning behind his statement, even if the others didn't.
"Hai, I hope so too," she replied cheerfully. "And Kazekage-sama?"
"Yes?"
"My name is Haruno Sakura, not kunoichi," she told him boldly.
He stared at her for a long time and then slowly blinked. The others held their breath and exhaled sighs of relief when an amused glint appeared in the Kazekage's eyes.
"Such impudence," he muttered and then in a much louder voice, declared, "Good luck then, Haruno Sakura."
She nodded and moments later, Gaara watched as she, along with the rest of her team, disappeared from his sight. The odd, tingling feeling he had felt when she'd smiled at him lingered within him and he wondered at it. Never had a female stood up to him as she had last night, her face flushed and her eyes blazing as she basically told him to suck it up.
"Take the chance you've been given and live your life with pride and dignity!"
It would be a while before Haruno Sakura and Sabaku no Gaara meet again.
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