I guess I should warn you that this chapter is a little strange.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Gaara can taste blood. The metallic flavor is one he knows well and he is not alarmed. He knows that the taste is just a prelude to victory. He turns his head to the side and spits. His fierce glare never strays from his opponents face.
The man is an ogre. He's just as stupid and he is strong, and strength is about all he's got. He's at least twenty-five and by the looks of it, he's also at least two hundred and fifty pounds. He towers over Gaara and subjects him to a smile that's more than just tinged with menace. He's missing two of his front teeth.
"It's just you and me now, kid," said the ogre. "I'm going to give you a lesson on respecting your elders."
Gaara thinks that this is highly unlikely. He glances to the left where Naruto and Naruto's opponent are lying motionless on the ground. The hero always defeats the villain even if it costs him his life. Gaara is relieved to see the soft rise and fall of his friend's chest, indicating that he is still breathing.
Naruto had fought gallantly. Even when the troll he was fighting broke the rules and pulled out a knife, Naruto stayed true to himself and fought with his own strength.
The one thing that above all else unleashes the monster inside Gaara is when the challenger doesn't fight honorably. Gaara hopes that the ogre keeps a clean fight. Gaara knows that if the bastard tries anything funny, he won't be able to hold himself back from killing him.
Gaara Sabaku is not a murderer.
His lips curl with disgust and he growls. The ogre might talk a big game, but Gaara has already landed three solid punches and he can't help but notice how the ogre sways with every step he takes.
Gaara is bleeding but he doesn't sense any injuries. His muscles are tense and he can feel the delicious vibrations of fight course through his veins. His heart beats slowly and he reminds himself that his heart is just another muscle and every muscle in his body is a weapon.
Two punches, one upper cut with his right fist and one jab with his left bring the ogre to the ground. Gaara is surprised when he gets back up, but Gaara is ready for him. Gaara again knocks him to the floor with a powerful kick from his right foot. This time, before the ogre can make any weak attempts to stand he's treated with another blow to the gut, courtesy of Gaara's foot. The ogre groans and curls into the fetal position. His face is dark red and his body is drenched in sweat. Gaara knows that this creature is down for good.
This would normally be the moment when Gaara is overtaken by the ecstasy brought on by triumph. Gaara realizes that the blood he tastes is tainted. He looks up at the night sky above him. There's not a single star twinkling and clouds have gathered, blanketing the hoary moon. The air is heavy with moisture and the smell of promised rain. He touches a hand to his chest and the skin beneath his fingers feels sticky. Beads of salty sweat drip down his back and are absorbed by his waistband. But it's the calculating stares of the men seated around the ring that makes him itch.
Gaara is impressed by the set up. He thinks that there is something alluring about the prospect of fight one thousand feet up in the air. He likes that there are no walls to cage him and no ceiling to trap him. The only thing he would change is the spectators and their chequebooks. The members of the Akatsuki sit in the front row. He knows they're just rich bastards who are too proud and too privileged to do their gambling in Vegas like the rest of the world. No, instead they get their jollies from watching men half their age and twice their strength battle it out in a way they only wish they could. Gaara deems them all to be malignant narcissists and unworthy of his anger. He'll play their game and take their money just as soon as they give him a worthy opponent.
When the men in overpriced Italian suits and shiny leather shoes neither make any move nor say any words, Gaara rolls his eyes. They had been silent for the entire fight. It isn't natural. Gaara is more concerned with the wellbeing of his friend than the approval of the CEOs and investment bankers. He turns away from them and bends down to try and wake Naruto. He crawls over to the side of the ring and snatches his water bottle off of a pile of towels. He pokes Naruto's face with his pointer finger and when that doesn't rouse the boy, Gaara unscrews the cap of the water bottle and proceeds to dump it on his friend's head.
Naruto comes to life and sits up, sputtering and trying to wipe the water off his face with his hands. Gaara sits on his knees and waits patiently to see if his friend has any serious injuries. Thankfully, it seems that Naruto had passed out from exhaustion and not something more sinister.
"Please tell me you kicked that bastard's ass," says Naruto. He tries to stand to look at their unfortunate opponents.
Gaara nods solemnly. "He got in one or two good punches, but he was too weak." Gaara takes Naruto's hand in his and pulls him to his feet. "Are you okay?"
"I've been better." He manages a small smile. He puts his arm around Gaara and leans against him for support. "I'm in the mood for Ramen, actually."
"Of course you are." Gaara does his best to sound annoyed but he is comforted. He knows that if Naruto wants Ramen, then he is indeed okay. He fits his arm around Naruto waist and helps him over to where Pein is waiting on the other side of the ring.
"You have both far exceeded my expectations," says the big bad wolf. "We are all very impressed."
Gaara can just picture the man eating someone's grandmother. He is disgusted with himself for accepting Pein's offer. He should have told him to go get fucked and then walked in the other direction. He scowls. "I'm not impressed in the slightest," he says boldly. "Are you going to stand there and tell me you didn't know that guy had a knife?" Gaara pushes past him and eases Naruto down the stairs. "Keep your money, I don't want it. Next time you want a fight get tickets to Smack Down. I'm sure they'll give you a group rate."
With little effort Gaara leads Naruto over to the door to the stairs. He pulls the handle and is not amused when it doesn't open. The door is made out of steel, so Gaara doubts whether or not he could break it down. He feels a sense of foreboding.
"Did you really think this was just a simple fight, Sabaku?" asks Pein behind him.
Gaara once again can feel the blood surging to his fists. He should have expected this type of deceitfulness. He's angry with himself for not realizing it the moment the door had clicked behind him on their way up.
Fighting is second nature to Gaara, but he's no thug. Gaara was barely four years old when Mr. Sabaku discovered his son's affinity for combat. All Sabaku's are bred to become exceptional in their own rights.
Temari Sabaku was the valedictorian of her class and the tennis club captain who led her team to three consecutive championship victories. She was the object and desire of many boys' affections but her family always came first. When she graduated she turned down scholarships to prestigious universities in order to stay at home and take care of her father and brothers. These days she spends her time cooking, cleaning, student teaching at a local elementary school, and playing mixed doubles against her father's business partners.
Kankuro Sabaku will someday work for NASA. Since his freshman year of high school, colleges have been trying to recruit him for their robotics programs. He divides his time between designing robots in his workshop and sexing cheerleaders in his bedroom. He sits on his fathers right during dinner parties and won't let any guest get away with badmouthing his family, especially his little brother.
When Gaara was suspended from kindergarten for throwing sand in the face of the evil lunch lady, Mr. Sabaku decided that if his son was going to fight he was going to fight right. From then on out Gaara had teachers. Savate, Taekwondo, Jujutsu, and Hakido; he learned techniques from around the world. He's not just your everyday street fighter. He also knows a little bit (or a lot) more about the Viennese Waltz than he would ever admit. His body was designed for action.
When Gaara didn't find the competition he was yearning for in gyms and dojos he looked to the streets. The people he encountered in the streets are a different breed of fighters. They aren't so concerned with skill and discipline; they fight because their bodies beg them too. They fight because it is the closest that they'll ever get to reach to enlightenment.
There has always been a little money involved, a system of wagers and rewards. About six months ago the Akatsuki started showing up. They brought with them cash and new opponents. Gaara had always assumed they were just there for the show and the gambling but now he isn't so sure.
If he wasn't so worn out from his fight and if he didn't have Naruto to worry about he would show the Akatsuki just who it was that they were dealing with.
Gaara sticks out his chin defiantly. "What do you want from us?" he asks. "If this isn't a fight then what is it?"
"It's an audition," answers Pein. He motions to the man hunched over next to him, a man with a bandage wrapped around his head and a cane in his hand. "This is Danzo. He is the director of a private military company. For the past year he has been recruiting men for an elite team of warriors. You have both caught his attention."
"You're too emotional, but your strength is remarkable," Danzo says in a raspy voice. "I want you to come and work for me. I'm giving you a chance to become infamous around the world. It's a chance to battle powerful enemies and push your bodies to their limits."
Gaara is stunned. He can't believe that this man is trying to sign him up to become a mercenary. He didn't think that there are people shameless enough to hire seventeen year olds to be contract killers. He wants to tell them that just because he fights incredible hulks on rooftops in the city, it doesn't mean he wants to go to foreign countries and kill "enemies". Part of him wants to laugh because he knows that Naruto would never even consider such an offer.
"You bastards are crazy!" exclaims the blond fighter. "I would never leave the people I love to become one of your goons. I learned to fight so I could protect my friends, not so I could become a murder machine."
Pein tilts his head to the side. "I expected this much from you, Uzumaki. You seem to have these delusions of love and bonds." His eyes lock with Gaara's. "You on the other hand, all you know is fighting. You need this like you need oxygen. You were put on the earth for this kind of work."
Three years ago Gaara would have agreed with him, but now he knows the difference between fighting and murdering. Now, he knows that he's still very much a dragon, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have people he cares about. While he loves to fight, he would never love to kill. He tries not to lose his cool.
"I have no interest in becoming your tool." His voice is deadly calm. "I think it would be in everyone's best interest if you would just open the door now and let us leave."
"Very well." Pein seems completely unfazed by his answer. He reaches into his pocket and produces a silver key. He hands it to Gaara. "The next fight is in three weeks. Something tells me you're going to be here."
Gaara can hear the threat laced in those words but he won't allow himself to react. He is going to go inside, find an elevator, and stay far away from the Akatsuki. Gaara knows that they're just not worth it.
Gaara Sabaku is better than that.
"Your house is nicer," says Naruto.
Gaara crosses his arms and leans against the brick wall. "Damn straight."
Naruto lifts up the plate of food in his hands. "And your sister cooks just as well as these fancy caterers."
"Temari's cooking is much better than this garbage." Gaara picks a green bean off of Naruto's plate and tosses it into the expertly trimmed bushes. "Why did we come to this loser-palooza again?"
Naruto throws the entire plate into the bushes. "Because we were invited. Granted, I don't actually know how or why we got the invite, but I've always wanted to see Sasuke's house." He scratches his head sheepishly. "That and my mom wanted me to have an excuse to wear this fancy shirt she got me for Christmas."
Gaara sighs. Temari has made him wear a dress shirt too and he resents her for it. Even with the first two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up Gaara is hot and uncomfortable. He feels that fabric is too starchy and the material doesn't breathe. He might have well have put on a straight jacket. And just to add to his irritation, his muscles are still sore from the fight and his joints ache. He wants to go back to his lair and rip his shirt off and hit the punching bag until the burning is too much to bear. He wants to fill his bathtub with ice water and soak himself until he can feel his bone marrow freeze.
He doesn't know how he let Naruto talk him into going to the birthday party Fugaku Uchiha is throwing for his youngest son. He thinks that it's funny that the Uchiha family puts on such air of high and mighty, when in reality they're the most notorious crime family around. They have a hold on every strip club and liquor store in the city. Gaara has heard rumors of 'enforcers', stolen goods, and well paid judges. Sasuke may be prince charming, but his throne is built on gunpowder and broken knees.
Naruto leaves to find more food and say hi to a couple of friends. Gaara stays hidden under the shadow of the great oak tree and observes the guests. He wonders if they really understand how meaningless birthdays are. Gaara has never had a birthday party. He doesn't see how anyone could celebrate the anniversary of his mother's death.
His chest gets tight when he thinks about her. He amazed by how he can miss someone he has never met. He's seen her in pictures though. She never looks at the camera but her eyes are always smiling. He remembers one picture in particular. His mother is holding Temari she looks at her with such profound adoration. The look is pure unadulterated love. There are no reasons or motives or hesitations. Its as if loving is more inherent a baby's first gasp of air. Gaara wonders if even as she lay dying, did his mother ever feel that way about him. He had once asked his father if he would ever remarry and was not surprised when his father replied no. Gaara remember his father telling him that there was no one for him but Karura. He said that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on and that her beauty wasn't just in her face. Gaara has yet to understand the meaning behind those words.
He watches the couples holding each other on the dance floor. His eyes are inevitably drawn to where Sasuke's slimy hand rests on Sakura's slender waist. Sometimes when Gaara looks at Sakura Haruno he feels as if someone has pulled the floor out from under him, but other times he wants to slam his fist into a brick wall.
She hasn't been back to the pool since that day he saved her. Gaara doesn't know how to feel about that. His blood boils at the memory of the way she treated him. He can't even count the number of nights where she was his inspiration for destruction. He wants her to fall off her high horse. He wants her dreams to shatter. He wants her to suffer the way she's made him suffer. He wants her to stop being so fucking perfect.
Gaara thinks that there is no greater injustice than Sakura's beauty. He doesn't understand how a word his father uses to describe his mother is also the first word Gaara thinks of as he watches her dance. Her arms are wrapped around Sasuke's neck and her head is resting on his shoulder. He's whispering softly into her ear and she's griping him tightly. The music stops playing and they break apart but only so Sasuke can kiss her lips sweetly. A photographer takes their picture. Gaara wonders if maybe the camera can see how dark and twisted her roots really are. He beauty is only skin deep.
Sasuke is holding her hand and together they're talking to a couple of guests. Gaara stares at her face. Her lovely face, her snow-white skin, her gumdrop nose, her full ripe lips, her perfect cheekbones; she's the pretty, pretty princess. But her eyes are her only truthful feature. Her eyes are dead and empty. Her mouth smiles but her eyes are vacant and stare blankly ahead. Sasuke might as well just be carrying around a life sized china doll.
Gaara's gaze shifts when he realizes that one of the men she's conversing with is none other than Itachi Uchiha, a feared member of the Akatsuki. Gaara is immediately reminded of the encounter on the rooftop. He's sorry that he ever got involved with such unsavory characters.
The Akatsuki is an underground organization that's goal is to dominate and control the entire city. Its members are powerful people from all of the various communities living within the city. Gaara's own cousin, Sasori, is a representative of the Suna district, the place where Gaara and his family live. Gaara decides its only natural that one of the members would have to be an Uchiha, and whom better to represent the family than the heir himself?
Pein's words echo through Gaara's head. He knows that Pein is plotting something. Gaara doesn't think that Pein would have let him go so easily if he didn't have something else up his sleeve. He can only image what Pein meant when he said that Gaara would be changing his mind. Gaara vows that if the Akatsuki makes any move against his family he would dedicate his life to destroying them. He's enraged just by the thought of it.
Itachi Uchiha disgusts him. The man stands there socializing with party guests and acting like a morally upright citizen, when Gaara knows that he's a cold-blooded killer. Gaara never pretends to be anything or anyone he's not. He wonders where Itachi's loyalties lie. Does he put his family first? Gaara would do anything to protect his brother and sister.
He decides that he has to escape the scene. He doesn't know if he'll be able to control himself for much longer. He dislikes parties in general, but an Uchiha party makes him want to break something. Gaara walks stiffly over to the side entrance where he sees uniformed men and women emerging from, carrying trays. He is painfully aware of every tight muscle on his body. He holds the door open for one of the waiters and slips inside.
He doesn't take any time to admire his surroundings. If he cared about art he'd visit a museum and experience has taught him that expensive furniture does not equate comfortable furniture. He ventures further and further into the house until he can no longer hear the commotion of the party outside. He is grateful for the air conditioning and can feel the cold air ebbing away at his tension and ache. He decides that he won't leave the cool comfort of the Uchiha mansion until after the sun has gone down. He starts opening doors right and left looking for a place where he can pass the time undisturbed. At the end of the hallway he finds guest room, and when he sees the king sized bed he knows his search is over.
Gaara draws the curtains. He will not let the ever-intrusive sun follow him here too. The lamp on the nightstand emits a soft orange glow, which he feels creates more than enough light for the room. He pushes down on the mattress with his hand to test its firmness. He determines that, for his purposes, the bed will be plenty comfortable. He kicks off his shoes and then carefully lies down. He rolls onto his stomach and buries his face into the pillow. He cannot remember the last time he felt so miserable. He can feel the cold sweat drying in his hair and on his neck. He groans and then turns back to stare up at the ceiling.
He can't figure out what had possessed him to subject himself to this torture in the first place. He is consciously aware that he had just walked straight into the dungeon of the people he hates most in the world. He is afraid to admit that it might have something to do with the malevolent princess.
He closes his eyes and pictures her in her lacy pink underwear. Her hateful smirk has been replaced by a look of raw desire. He splays his hand across her chest and pushes her against the wall. Her heart is beating like a hummingbird's. She looks up at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes pleading. He leans down and kisses her mouth. His hand caresses her, lingering in the places that make her moan. His lips travel down to her neck and she threads her fingers though his hair. He nudges her legs apart and pushes himself inside of her. She's so tight. She closes her eyes and she whispers his name. "Gaara,"
He hears the door open and he quickly sits up. He tries to clear his head, but when Sakura Haruno, the real Sakura Haruno, walks through the door he feels his heart stop.
Sakura shuts and locks the door behind her. "When I asked Sasuke to invite you, I didn't actually think you would come."
Gaara regards her warily. He thinks that up close she's even more stunning. He gives himself a much-needed moment to regain his composure. He realizes that he doesn't have to imagine what her skin feels like because he's touched her before. The memory makes his hands itch. And she's wearing the most awful of awful dresses. He doesn't know how an innocent pink dress can turn him on faster than a string bikini. He wonders if there is a store out there that specializes in designing dresses that are guaranteed to drive him crazy.
"Naruto didn't want to come alone," says Gaara. He hopes that she will believe him. "Shouldn't you be out there with your boyfriend?"
Sakura smiles coyly. "Well it's been a while since we last saw each other. I thought I should at least come and say hello to you."
Gaara recognizes that tone. He notices that they've reverted back into their game of cat and mouse. He has no intention of falling into her trap.
"I think you should go back outside," he says calmly. "People will start to worry about you."
"I told them that the heat was too much for me and that I needed to lie down. It's serendipity that I should find you."
Gaara doesn't know why the world hates him so much. "This room is occupied."
She ignores him and instead sits down on the bed next to him. She's close enough that his nose fills with the scent of lavender and cool mint. He will dream of her lying naked in a bed of flowers. He wants to pull her onto his lap and breathe her in. He stifles his urges and pushes the idea out of his mind.
"Go away," he tells her. "Leave me alone."
Her smile widens. "Word on the street is that you're a monkey."
"I don't care," he says, determined not to take the bait.
She scoots closer so the sides of their bodies touch. He doubts that she could be unaware of the intimacy she's creating. He tries not to think about how near they are to fulfilling one of his fantasies. He can almost taste the sweetness of her skin.
"You're a side show act," she whispers against his ear. "You're a ridiculous spectacle of stupidity and barbarianism."
He can only assume she's referring to the fighting. He knows that most fighters like to keep their activities quiet, but ever since the episode on the rooftop, everyone seems to know his business. He has a suspicion that he has Naruto to thank for this.
"I don't make judgments about the way you live your life. Don't talk to me about things that don't concern you," he warns her.
She laughs and he can feel her breath against his face. He's suddenly aware of how small the room has become. He has to wonder if she feels the unbearable heat that surfaces whenever she smiles at him like that. He can't understand what she stands to gain from antagonizing him. He asks himself what reasons Sakura Haruno would have for playing with fire.
Her smile fades. "All you ever do is make judgments about my life. Do you think that I don't notice the way you look at me? Do you think I don't know exactly what you're thinking?"
Gaara's mouth feels dry. "So add paranoid to your list of amiable qualities." He does his best to keep his face emotionless.
"You hurt people for money," she accuses. "You don't think about anyone but yourself."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," he dismisses her. He feels a headache in the works and he doesn't have the patience to humor her anymore.
"I know a lot more than you think," her face contorts grotesquely "I know that you're trash. I know that you don't have even one ounce of self-control. You let people use and manipulate you because you don't care who you fight just as long as you cause someone pain. You take joy out of beating those weaker than you."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," he repeats. He would never attack someone who was unable to fight back. He only fights challengers who are on his level. He knows he has an issue with control, but he is still perfectly capable of using discretion. He's not going to give into her need to create conflict.
She leans in and her lips brush his ear. "You just do whatever you want and don't consider about anyone but yourself. You don't think. You just act. You can't understand the pain you cause other people. You have no respect for laws or authority. You're a pathetic excuse for a human being. You're not even and animal, you're a waste of space.
Her breath is hot in his ear and he bites his tongue. He turns to look at her. Her eyes are no longer hollow. Now they're bright with desperation. Gaara abruptly rises to his feet. He's uncomfortable. He's come in from the sun but his body temperature keeps rising. He is not going to pretend that her words aren't reaching him. Every time she opens her mouth to speak he can feel violence and contempt wash over him like lava down the sides of a volcano.
He reminds himself that she doesn't know anything about him. It's obvious to him that to her, he is just a toy. She derives pleasure from winding him up and setting him loose. He doesn't see her as anything other than a spoiled child. He knows that she couldn't possibly read him so easily. Gaara can't even read himself that easily. He doubts himself now more than ever, and he can't understand why her accusations bother him. He can't remember a time when he cared about his identity as a fighter. He doesn't see why it should matter. He knows he's never pretended to be something he's not, yet for some inexplicable reason, he's franticly trying to convince himself he's not the boy she's talking about.
He takes a step back and looks at her. There isn't a single girl on earth who wouldn't trade places with her. There isn't a single boy out there who wouldn't want to be with her. All she has to do is snap her fingers and she'll have the world bowing at her feet. She's effortlessly beautiful and she's effortlessly brilliant. She doesn't know pain, grief or sadness. She's never had a toothache, scraped knee, or broken nail. She'll never experience a bad day, a sleepless night, or a broken heart.
"You're perfect, Sakura. You're undeniable perfect."
She stiffens. She's motionless for a moment until her hand reaches up and she closes her fist over the string of pearls around her neck. "Do you like my necklace?" she asks. "Sasuke gave it to me. It belonged to his grandmother. He gave it to me because he loves me. When's the last time anyone gave you a gift?"
Gaara is confused as to why she so quickly changed the subject. He stares at the floor. Just because his family doesn't exchange presents doesn't mean they don't care for each other. "It's none of your business."
Sakura stands up, obviously satisfied. "There is a reason for that. Don't you understand what you are? You're a circus freak. You amuse us and you repulse us. It's fascinating to watch you make and idiot out of yourself.
Gaara is hit with an overwhelming urge to throw her back down onto the bed. He clenches and unclenches his fists. He's starting to understand now. "I don't know why you're going to such lengths to make me hate you. Don't you think you hate yourself enough for the both of us?"
He feels the sting even before her hand collides with his face. Sakura Haruno has slapped him. Hard. He won't give her the satisfaction of even blinking, though internally his mind is waging war against his nerves. He can't remember the last time he took a hit and didn't return the gesture in full. He's mildly impressed that she was able to catch him off his guard.
He wants to hurt her now. He can see her right in front of him. She's just inches away from him. Her hands are clutching the bunched fabric of her dress. Her lips are parted and he can see every breath she takes. He can't understand why she is looking at him so expectantly. He can't believe that she could actually think that he would hurt her. He thinks that would be like vandalizing a great work of art. He starts to realize that Sakura Haruno might just be looking to get hit.
"You didn't even struggle."
"What?" she asks, surprised.
"In the pool. You didn't even struggle. You were trying to hurt yourself. It wasn't that you didn't think I would save you. It was that you didn't want me to save you." He watches the delicate bones of her throat rise and fall as she swallows, but she remains otherwise unaffected.
"Um, excuse me?" she tilts her head to the side and waits for him to explain himself. When he doesn't, she continues. "I hate myself? I want to hurt myself? Where are you coming up with this bullshit?
"I'm just calling it like I see it."
"Well then you must be blind," she shakes her head. "I love myself. I adore myself. I'm impossible to hate. Everyone loves me. What's not to love? You said it yourself, I'm perfect."
He should have known better than to dispute her narcissism and vanity. He knows now that she's just as bad as the Uchiha, maybe worse. He thinks that for her to retain the image of flawlessness she really does have to believe that she is flawless. He's surprised at how disappointed he is to find that she is just as shallow as she seems.
"I jumped into the pool because I was bored. Summer can be very dull." Her lips return to their original state, that detestable mocking smile. "But I didn't have to look very far for entertainment, now did I? You made it so easy for me. We took bets on how long it would take for you to lose it. Despite your pathetic attempts to veil your anger, we all saw right through you. We watched you struggle and we laughed at you. Everyone's favorite bad boy was reduced to an ignominious stooge."
Gaara feels as if his muscles are all cramping at once. He knows that she has been toying with him, but it angers him even more to hear her admit it. He decides that he should have let her drown. He would have been doing the world a favor. He can't believe that he had been foolish enough to feel sorry for her, and that he had wanted to comfort her. His head is pounding and he doesn't know for how much longer he'll have the effort to restrain himself.
"But do you want to know the really funny part?" she asks. "Even after of that, you're just dying to fuck me," she laughs. "But you're the last person on the planet who I would ever get into bed with."
"That's okay," says Gaara. "In my fantasy your legs are wrapped around my waist and we do it against the wall."
He says it purely to test her reaction. He wants to see if she feels the electric charge in the air. She's the one who brought it up. Gaara thinks that there has to be a reason for her to steer the conversation in that direction. She's excited him.
Her lips curl in disgust and she takes backs away from him, distancing herself as far as possible. "You're revolting. When I think about you and I together I want to vomit."
But he doesn't believe her. He thinks that she looks intrigued at the notion of her legs wrapped around his waist. He decides right then and there that he's going to make it happen.
Gaara Sabaku is going to seduce Sakura Haruno.
"When you think about you and I? Do you think about us together often? I know I do."
She shudders, but Gaara can see it's forced. "Don't be disgusting," she says. "I don't think about you period."
"Reaction Formation." He moves closer to her. He can hear the panic echoing in her voice. He knows that she's lying now. There is only one reason why she would go to such trouble to deny it. "When you're thinking about me, what am I doing to you?" He ghosts his hands over her arms. "Am I touching you?"
He wants to know her fantasy.
She stares at his hands on her shoulders and then back up at his face. She vehemently shakes her head. "This is ridiculous. I never think about you, much less about you touching me."
"But you do think about me kissing you, don't you?" He cups her face and she leans into his touch. He can't imagine why someone like her would possibly think about someone like him. But he's not going to miss his chance this time. "Should I kiss you, Sakura?" He brushes his thumb over her lips.
Sakura doesn't answer. She just looks at him, her eyes wide and her lashes long. It must be a trick of the light because Gaara can almost see the reflection of fear and uncertainty.
"When you're thinking about me am I kissing you?" he asks in a low voice.
"You're deranged," she tells him, her voice shaking. "You have an overactive imagination. Don't confuse fantasy with reality."
"The reality of this is that you want me, and I want you." He brushes a stray hair away from her face and tucks in behind her ear. "You haven't denied that." He finds his hands have gravitated to the straps of her dress. He hooks his fingers under those flimsy pink cords and slowly pulls them down. "You want me. You want me to kiss you. The only question is where do you want me to kiss you?" He puts his hands on her waist and pulls her closer. He waits to hear her protests but they never come. Instead she silently glares at him and pulls her straps back up.
He's not sure how they've come to this. He doesn't understand what game they're playing now. He just knows that he's exhausted and her body feels like pure energy in his hands. He presses his thumbs against her hipbones. "I know where I want to kiss you. Should I show you where that is?
Sakura Haruno is toxic and she is a liar. But Gaara Sabaku is a boy who has trouble telling his body no. And he is plagued by this primal urge to be inside of her. He can't think about anything else, not his detestation of her or her incessant need for chaos. He can't taste any flavor richer than her scent. He can't hear any sound louder than her soft breaths. He can't see beyond her diabolical green eyes. He doesn't want to.
Sakura pulls one of his hands off of her and turns it over so it's palm side up. "Is this the hands that builds or the hand that destroys?"
"I'm not a god, Sakura." Gaara doesn't think that a god would be able to appreciate the satisfaction he'll have when Sakura is finally naked.
"You're a monster." She puts her hand on top of his and intertwines their fingers.
Her hand is a great deal smaller than his is but their fingers fit together like shards of broken glass. He reminds himself that if they're not careful then they'll cut each other into shreds, but that's providing that they don't catch fire first. He wants her body slick with sweat, grinding against his, creating such a delicious friction. He waits for her to make her next move.
Sakura's eyes are churning pools of pandemonium. "Shall we see how well you can control your monster urges? I don't think you can handle me." She puts his hand on top of her heart and her eyes never leave his. "I want you to kiss me here."
He decides he doesn't mind playing her game if it gets him what he wants. He's not going to question her motives or question his luck. "You want me to kiss your dress, Sakura?" he teases.
She drops his hand and turns around. "No, I want you to unzip my dress and then finished what you started weeks ago."
He can appreciate her directness. He doesn't know how he could possibly forget the episode in the sun, and he's glad she hasn't forgotten either. He resists the urge to tear her little pink dress apart and instead takes his sweet time pulling the metal zipper down. Sakura remains silent and still. Gaara knows she won't stay that way for long. He's going to have her under him writhing and moaning. He's going to hear the rewarding sound of her screaming out his name in divine ecstasy. Because to Gaara, the only thing that could make this night even better would be having her beg for it. He's going to do her hard and he's going to do her fast and he's going to be merciless.
"You really get off on this don't you?" he asks against her ear. He pushes the dress off her shoulder and it lands on the ground with a quiet thump. "Men hating you and wanting you at the same time." He unclasps her cotton bra and sends it join her dress next to her feet. He wonders what she is doing wearing such a plain skin colored bra. It is hardly a fitting choice for a sex kitten. The little voice in the back of his mind tells him to end the game when he sees the red indentation the elastic has left on her bony upper back. It tells him that she's not the same girl he sees in his fantasy. He ignores the voice and kisses the mark. Her skin is petal soft under his lips. He feels his blood rush south. "Have you grown tired of men who adore you?"
"Don't be a moron." She takes his arms from behind her and wraps them loosely around her naked waist. "All men adore me," she leans back and rests her body against his, "even you."
Gaara buries his nose in her hair and inhales. He knows she's highly addictive but he's ignoring the warning on the bottle. He doesn't think that there's a man on the planet would be able to resist her. He's not even going to try. Instead he's going to push her legs apart and give her such a blinding pleasure that she'll remember his face whenever anyone else touches her. He's going to make sure that he's the one she dreams about on hot July nights.
He sighs. "I adore your body. You smell like summer. And your skin…" He strokes her stomach. He can feel her ribs and for the first time he notices how little fat and muscle she has on her bones. That nagging voice tells him that she's no more than a sylph, and if he does lose control it's likely that he'll crush her. But he also knows that if he doesn't take advantage of this moment he'll regret it for the rest of his life. He concludes that he's going to have to listen to his mind, not just his body. He also knows that it's easier said than done.
Sakura grasps his hands again and guides them up her torso until he can feel the swell of her breasts. "Are you one of those boys who talks a big game and then doesn't deliver? Prove it to me that you're worthy," she says.
He lightly runs his finger back and forth over her nipples until he feels them stiffen. He hears Sakura let out a shaky breath. Her breasts are small, each barely a handful but they're warm and soft and undeniably feminine. They're what he was always hoping to see when he looked up from his woodworking and let his eyes gravitate toward the pool. They're Sakura's and now they're his.
"You're going to have to do better-" she starts.
Gaara shushes her and begins to firmly massage the flesh in his hands. "Maybe I'm a monster, and maybe I'm not worthy of you, but you want this and I need this, so just listen to your body and not your head. I'm going to make you feel good." Gaara smirks because by good he means hat he's going to make her so aroused that she'll explode into a million tiny pieces when he finally thrusts into her. He decides that once won't be enough for him. He wants to have her on the bed and on the floor and against the wall and lying down and sitting up and on their knees and then maybe he'll let her be on top.
Sakura makes a soft noise in the back of her throat that Gaara interprets as her consent. He still can't believe what is happening. He's about to have sex with Sakura Haruno at Sasuke Uchiha's birthday party. All those weeks of putting up with her torture have finally paid off. He doesn't know how he could have regretted saving her. He wants to take off his clothes and have her hands relieve the pressure in his pants. Gaara is rock hard and it's difficult for him to focus on anything other then that it's only a matter of time until their pelvises will be slamming into each other's. He wants to speed things up. He feels like the last month has been five agonizing weeks of foreplay. Enough is enough.
Gaara's hands drop and he spins her around so she's facing him. He has wanted to have his hands on this body for a long time. But his hands have wanted to do more than just touch her back. His fingers want to tiptoe up her silky thighs and slide into the burning heat beneath her folds. Her underwear is ordinary too, no more scandalous then her bikini bottoms, if anything they cover more. He decides he's going to wait to take them off. Even still he thinks that she looks ethereal. Her pale skin glows in the warm light of the lamp and the rosy nipples on her little chest look perfect for teasing. He's pleasantly surprised to see her cheeks are flushed and she's biting her lower lip. Part of him realizes that the reason behind this is her shyness but he chooses to interpret her behavior as seduction. He moves his hands slowly down her waist and grips her securely by the hips. He lifts her and drops her onto the bed. Sakura's eyes widen and she scoots back a bit. He's annoyed when she crosses her arms to cover her chest. He has been under the impression that they are past the point of teasing. "I thought you wanted me to kiss them?" He wants to kiss all of her.
She stares at her lap and hesitantly uncrosses her arms. "Are you just going to stand there, or what?" she doesn't lift her head. "Do you hands not work? Do you need help taking your shirt off?" She finally looks up at him. He can't figure out why her face looks so serious. They're just having a little fun. She timidly reaches out to close her elegant fingers around his wrist. She tugs at it until he takes the hint and joins her on the bed.
"My hands work just fine." To prove it he grabs her hips again and drags her hot little body onto his lap, careful not to hurt himself in the process. "But I still need your help." He lifts her curiously trembling hands and kisses them before putting them on his collar. "Will you help me?"
"Okay," she murmurs. "I can do that." Her blush deepens and her clumsy fingers begin the unbearably slow process of undoing his buttons.
Gaara knows this "innocent girl routine" is all an act that she's cooked up just to torment him, but lucky for them both, he's in the perfect position for distraction and retaliation.
He watches as Sakura begins to fumble when he leans in and presses tiny kisses to the top of her chest and nips at her collarbone. Her skin is smooth melted white chocolate on his lips. She stops unbuttoning altogether when those chaste kisses turn into hot open-mouthed kisses and they begin to trail down her sternum. Sakura gasps.
"What are you doing, Gaara?" she asks breathlessly. "Why are-"
He closes his mouth over her breast and dances his tongue around her perky little nipple. He sucks with his lips and nibbles gently with his teeth. She threads her shaking hands through his hair and massages his scalp with her fingers. He tries to divide his time equally between the two breasts but he gets carried away by the places in between. He nips and kisses her soft skin. He's determined to leave lasting marks. He just wishes that she would stop moving around so much because if not she's going to give him a heart attack.
"Gaara," she pleads as she tries to escape him. "You can't just do whatever you want."
"But I'm doing what you want." And with that he pushes her down onto her back and continues to rain wet kisses down every inch of her chest. He can feel every shallow breath she takes and he loves her body for it. He looks up and sees her lips are pursed and she's trying to stifle her moans. Her knees are clamped tightly but her thighs are grating together and her hips are gyrating. Gaara is slightly disturbed to see that when she exhales her ribs become more prominent than her breasts and her jutting hipbones make a basin out of her stomach. He pushes it to the back of his mind and tries to focus on the task at hand.
He decides that if he wants to hear her praises he's going to have to turn it up a notch. He languidly trails two fingers down her breastbone over her stomach past her bellybutton and onto the cotton of her panties. He watches her chest stay suspended in the air and he knows she's holding her breath. He centimeter by centimeter brings his fingers over the damp fabric and closer to that sensitive little bundle of nerves…
"Don't!" Sakura cries sharply. "Please stop."
Gaara freezes. He can't determine whether or not she is seriously telling him to stop. He knows that he can't possibly be hurting her. He's not exactly Don Juan but he's been with enough girls to know what kinds of things are pleasurable. She might be the girl he loathes most in the world, but that doesn't mean he wants her to be uncomfortable. Even if it's just another part of the game, he's not going to continue on if she tells him no.
Gaara Sabaku is not a rapist.
He's fairly certain that she doesn't object to his mouth on her chest so that's where he returns. He traces kisses up her neck and feasts on the on the soft skin under her jaw. His lips linger and with gentle pressure he sucks and bites. He slowly runs his tongue down her torso and across her stomach dipping into her navel and this time he stops at the seam of her underwear. He sits back and watches in amusement as she tries to steady her erratic and labored breaths. He would have never imagined that she would lose her cool over innocent kissing and wandering hands.
"Why did you do that?" She stretches out her body and tentatively traced the lines of bites and saliva down her neck, over her breast, and down her front, a sight so erotic that it makes Gaara even more consciously aware of his throbbing desire for her. He wonders if since he can't touch her maybe he could persuade her to touch herself. He imagines being able to watch her back arching and her hips bucking without him having to move a muscle.
He finishes the last of the buttons on his shirt and shrugs out of it. "You asked me to kiss your chest and I guess I got carried away." It was a detour but he knows that eventually they'll make it to their destination. "Where else should I kiss you, Sakura?"
Gaara watches her lie unmoving, facing up at the ceiling with her eyes shut tightly. Gaara has no idea what character she is trying to play now, so he is relieved when he sees her finally sit up. She can't seem to look him in the eyes, but she crawls over to him and sits between his legs. She tugs his undershirt out from the waistband of his khaki dress pants and helps him pull the shirt off his shoulder and over his head. Gaara throws it to the floor.
"That wasn't so hard," Sakura says, seemingly to herself. Her eyes are fixed at the pile of discarded clothing on the ground. "We're almost naked now."
Gaara takes Sakura's chin and turns her head so she's forced to look at him He'll admit that she's a good actress, because he almost believes the nervousness in her eyes. He can't imagine why his naked chest would intimidate her. Sakura has been dating Sasuke for two whole years. He wonders if her hesitation with him has anything to do with his role as the dragon.
But before Gaara can put any more thought into the matter, Sakura's careful hands on his chest demand his full attention. His heart is beating like a fish on dry land as he watches her trace the lines and ridges of on his abdomen. It's far more innocent than what and where he wants her to touch him, but any contact she has with him a cool fire ignites. He can't figure out why she is so obviously stalling. He thinks that she has to know how badly he's aching for her. If it weren't for that childlike look in her eyes he would push her down again ram into her with the force of a stampede. But instead he takes a deep breath and watches. Her slim fingers explore his chest with a sense of inquisitiveness. Gaara just assumes that he's more muscular than Sasuke. He flexes them and she smiles stupidly.
"We could study you in anatomy class," she jokes. She lifts her hand to brush his hair out of his eyes and caress his face. "You're much more handsome than the plastic diagram."
It takes a moment for him to comprehend that she has just given him a compliment, and by the time he does she's already busy inspecting his shoulder and elbow joints. He watches her bend his arms up and down and open and shut, all while examining the ways his muscles and tendons move. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but right now he's still pretty sore from the fight. He doesn't know how to make her stop. He doesn't know if he wants her to stop.
It's far from being sexy, but there is something about that playful expression on her face… it's cute. He decides that next he wants her lips swollen and red from his kisses. An emotion begins to pluck at him that for once isn't rage or desire. It's an array of emotions really. His heart rate begins to slow down and his brain switches off autopilot. He starts to remember that there's a slight chance that she's not the hellcat she seems to be. He inches closer to her and with his free hand he plays with the ends of her silky pink tresses. He watches as a genuine smile forms on her face. Gaara feels a strange fluttering sensation in his chest. He leans in and kisses the thin skin behind her ear.
"You're not like the other girls," he says quietly. He doesn't think that there's another girl the planet who can make his head spin like Sakura. He feels her gentle hands on his chest, his neck, his face, his arms and he feels a whole new kind of arousal.
He notices that up close her features are more angular than he thought they were. Everything about her is smaller. He decides that she is always wearing those dresses to hide how insignificant she is. She's tiny in the scheme of things. Up close he notices the golden remnants of bruising on the insides of her thighs and the faint pink scarring on the knuckles of hands.
He lets her continue with the check up for another couple of minutes before he leans in and nuzzles her neck. He hears her giggle softly and she tangles her fingers in his hair. He kisses her shoulder. "Sakura, you have to stop," he kisses the opposite shoulder. "I still haven't recovered from the fight."
He watches the train come to an abrupt halt. Sakura instantly releases his head and the smile vanishes. She stares at her hands and then at his chest. She narrows her eyes. "It's really a shame that you have all this muscle but no brain," she says coldly.
Gaara feels the temperature in the room drop ten degrees. His window of opportunity had closed as soon as she remembered whom it was that was kissing her. "It's really a shame that you have all this beauty but no heart," he counters.
Sakura looks like she is about to be sick. She scrambles to put distance between them and snatches a pillow from behind her and uses it to hide her nakedness. "Why should you care?" she asks. "You just want my body. You said that yourself." She hugs the pillow tightly. "If I had a heart we wouldn't be here right now. If you had a heart we wouldn't be here. You're so consumed in lust that you don't even care that you're going to get on top of a girl you despise to bounce around for a couple of minutes until you get what you want and throw her away like yesterday's garbage."
Gaara knows that isn't right but he can't see a way to refute it. "Sakura-"
She shakes her head. "No, don't lie to me. You're happy to hate me, because this way you won't feel any guilt when you literally fuck me over. That's the kind of guy you are. It's all 'act now, think later' mentality. So if that's what you want then take it and leave. Don't pretend that you want to kiss me and say nice things to me. Okay?" Her eyes are bright with unshed tears. "I thought I would have a chance at this game but I was wrong. I'll admit defeat. I was bluffing. I can't win. You can't just…" She heaves a frustrated sigh and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. She takes a deep breath and puts her mask back on. "This is how it usually works. I'll take my underwear off and lie down and you can just do what you want. This way you won't have to pretend to like me, and I won't get confused."
Gaara Sabaku is horrified.
Someone above has just dumped a bucket of ice water on his head. "You want me to do what? He doesn't believe his ears. This has to be another game.
Sakura swallows. "I can lie on my back or my stomach, depending on what you like. And you can cover my mouth if I start to cry."
Gaara told himself that she was perfect because it was an easy illusion to see. He believed that she was perfect because he didn't want to see past the illusion. He told himself that she was evil because it shielded him from having to see her pain. He told himself she was an actress because it was an excuse to ignore her.
The dragon might be the only one in the world who can save the princess from herself.
His first instinct is to find Sasuke and pummel him with his fists. Gaara decides he'll save that for later and in the meantime he'll calm Sakura down. He reaches for his dress shirt and picks it up off the ground.
"Are you leaving?" Sakura asks uncertainly.
"Not without you," Gaara replies. He starts toward her and she stiffens.
"Should I take the rest of my clothes off now?"
Gaara has never before craved his punching bag more than this in his life. "No, Sakura. We're going to put our clothes back on, get into my car, and drive far away from here."
"What makes you think I'm going anywhere with you? If you want me you can do me here. Let's get it over with."
Gaara knows that this is a delicate situation and that the best thing for him to do would be to sit down and have a long discussion with her so she can understand why she should go with him. Gaara just doesn't have the patience for this. He throws the shirt at her. "Put it on."
The shirt hits the pillow. Sakura furrows her brow. "I don't understand. Are we going to do it or not?"
"Look," he bends down to retrieve his undershirt. "I don't really like you and I'm not a nice guy, but I'm not going to… do what you're suggesting. When I think about Sasuke doing that to you, I get really, really angry."
She glowers at him. "So now you're too good for me? I'm giving you what you want! I'm sorry I'm not a virgin, but doesn't that make it easier for you?"
Gaara runs an aggravated hand through his hair and his stomach drops when he remembers how it felt just a short time ago when Sakura's fingers were twisted in his hair. "I don't understand why you're doing this. You hate me."
"That's not true," she protests. "I really like you. I'm just really mad at you too."
"You like me?" he asks incredulously.
Sakura nods. "You sat next to me in the sixth grade and I was infatuated with you for the entire year."
Gaara is sure that his ears aren't working properly. He vaguely remembers sitting next to her in middle school, but back then he didn't have many thoughts about girls. Though he was positive that she had never spoken to him. "Is this a joke?" he asks.
"One day," she continues. "We had a substitute and we were watching this really boring movie about plankton. I guess you didn't like the movie, because while it was explaining the marine eco-system, you climbed over my desk an jumped out the window." She smiles. "I used to wish that you had taken me with you. I thought you were the single coolest boy alive. I idolized you." her face falls. "But then I found out that you left that day to go over to another school and beat up some boy. You always did all these outrageous things that made me jealous but then you would ruin it by breaking the law or getting into a fight. I thought you looked so cool in your red car, but then you had to go and steal and crash Tsunade's. I still can't believe that you did that. It's the stupidest thing that I've ever heard. And then of course, one minute you're saving me from drowning, and the next minute you're fighting strangers in the roof of buildings in front of the Akatsuki. Make up your mind! Do you help people or do you hurt people?"
It's clear now to Gaara that Sakura Haruno is insane. It's almost too much for him to bear. He puts his undershirt back on and stares at her. "Let me get this straight, you were going to let me use you like a blow up doll because you had a crush on me in middle school?" He regrets his words the moment the leave his mouth because he can see Sakura's eyes fill up with tears once more.
"You're going to make fun of me now?" She puts her face in her hands but he can still see the tears dripping onto the pillow. And he still has no idea what to do. He has no idea what to do with a crying girl.
"Sakura, did you like what I was doing to you?" he gets back onto the bed and crawls over to her. "Isn't that what you asked me to do?"
"I didn't think that it would actually happen. I didn't know that it would feel that way. I just jumped in," she says, without uncovering her face. "I was stupid. It was a mistake."
"It's not a big deal." He starts to put his arm around her but before he can touch her she yells for him to stop.
"It is a big deal. I can't do those things with you." Her silent crying gradually begins to get louder.
He's losing patience. He doesn't understand why she thinks it's okay to have sex with Sasuke but not him. He doesn't think that his reputation should be of any concern. "What the hell do you want from me? One minute it's okay for us to have sex together and the next I'm not even allowed to touch you."
"You don't understand." She sniffs. "It's one thing to sit and let people take what they want from you, and it's another to kiss the way you were kissing me and touch the way I was touching you. It's alive and you can't pretend it's not happening because it feels good."
Gaara thinks that he's missing an important point. "I still don't understand what the problem is. I'm not asking you to marry me. It's just sex."
"You don't even like me!" she cries. "You hate me. I can pretend and lie about a lot of things, but my body can't. I don't understand why time stops and reality morphs when two people take off their clothes together. It's too personal. You're going to hate my body. You're going to laugh at me when I don't know how to do the things you want me to do or when I do them wrong. Maybe not when we're doing it, but later when we put our clothes back on and you remember how much you hate me, you're going to think I'm a big joke and tell all your friends. You're going to judge me and say terrible things to me. Or maybe you don't forget how much you hate me so you can fool me and then hurt me when I least expect it and don't know how to fight back. I'm going to be humiliated. I'm going to be confused. I can't understand how you can look at me one way when your touching me and I'm naked, but then look at me the total opposite way when I have my clothes on and I'm sitting with my friends."
Gaara realizes that the sour pain in his stomach is guilt and all feelings of desire for her body have vanished. Sakura Haruno is barely seventeen. She may be a princess but she's also vulnerable. He should have realized this a long time ago. He wishes that she would take her face out of her hands so she can see that he has no intention of hurting her. He tries putting his hand on her shoulder but she shrugs him off. "Sakura…" he pleads
"But I like you, and I don't hate you." her voice is muffled because she is talking into the pillow. "If we do these kissing and touching and naked on top of and inside of me things, then I'll forget how much you hate me and start to think that you like me. It will be even easier for you to hurt me and embarrass me. And eventually you'll get tired of me and leave. All I wanted was for you to notice me."
He hadn't known it was this complicated. Gaara had just thought it was going to be a little fun and a little release. She always has him all revved up; he had thought that it was just going to be letting off some steam. He would have never guessed that Sakura Haruno has actual feelings or that there were reasons behind her extreme behavior. He never thought about how a one-night stand would make her feel. She has a boyfriend for god's sake. Now he has no clue what to do with her. He has no clue what he wants from her.
"Why do you stay with Sasuke if he's so bad in bed?" he asks finally.
Sakura looks up. Gaara can see streaks of black staining her cheeks. He realizes that she must have had that silly stuff on her eyes.
"I don't have sex with Sasuke."
"Who then?" he asks. He wants to know whom she's letting do these terrible things to her.
"Men," she says simply.
"What men?" Gaara wants to break something. Men?
"My father's business partners." She puts her face into the pillow again.
"Why?" Gaara demands. His fists are clenched because he already knows the answer. He knows exactly who the men she's talking about are and he's not comfortable with the thought of her alone in the same room with them much the less naked and underneath them.
"It's an act of good faith. If my father lets these men have sex with his daughter, they know he won't betray them."
Gaara closes his eyes. He's afraid to ask the next question. What kind of depraved bastard does that to princesses? "How long has this been going on for?" He hears her mumble something incoherent. "Sakura, how long?" he asks more forcefully this time.
She looks up from the pillow. "Since I was thirteen."
Gaara's fist slams into the headboard of the bed. Darts of excruciating pain shoot up his entire arm. He cradles has hand to his chest and groans loudly. "Son of a bitch."
"Are you nuts?" Sakura yells.
He opens his eyes and she's in front of him, taking his angry red, soon to be swollen, fist in her hands. She holds it by the wrist and blows softly on it. She's still scantily clad is just those tiny underpants, which is nothing compared to the marks he's left all up and down her chest. He closes his eyes again. That body belongs to him now ands he's not going to let some fat greasy businessman put his dirty hands all over it and hurt her. "Sakura, it would make my life a whole lot easier if you would just put that shirt on."
"This is why you need anger management. You broke the bed!" He feels her drop his arm. "And you probably broke your knuckles too. How are you going to finish the house if you can't hold a hammer? You can't just punch something when you don't like what you're hearing."
"How am I supposed to react when the girl I'm with tells me her father has been arranging for men to rape her since she was thirteen?" He belatedly realizes that this probably isn't the most prudent way of saying it.
"It's not rape," argues Sakura. "It's consensual. I'm a willing participant. I want to do it, I'm helping my father."
Gaara opens his eyes and watches her climb back into her pink dress. "My father has a business too, and it's twice the size of your family's. If I ever found out that he was renting my sister, Temari, out for sex I'd kill him. I would literally kill him. Temari is twenty years old and I would still kill anyone who touches her with bad intentions."
"How precious," Sakura says sarcastically. "But it's really not as bad as you think it is. It's just like going to the dentist." She zips up her dress and gives him an unsettling smile. "And what makes you so sure that your dad hasn't been closing business deals with Temari's body?"
There is no doubt in Gaara's mind that his father respects Temari and would never make her do something so vulgar. "My father loves Temari. When you love someone you protect them. And my father has no tolerance for games. No one doubts his word."
Sakura picks her pearls up off the ground. "Oh damn, I broke the clasp." She sighs. "I suppose Sasuke will have it repaired for me." She drops them into the bust of her dress. "Oh, and by the way, I fucked your father two Christmases ago. He spanked me too."
Gaara is ashamed that he almost believed her. "Two Christmases ago we were in London. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"It's not what's wrong with me, it's what's wrong with you." She tries to smooth down her hair. "You have no idea how these things work. My father needs me. He takes care of my family. Helping him gain the trust of his business partners is the least I can do. It's not wrong. There is nothing shameful about it. No one gets hurt."
He can't keep up with this girl. "You get hurt. Don't deny that this hasn't hurt you."
"It hasn't hurt me." She rolls her eyes. "I mean every so often, depending on the angle, it's a little uncomfortable, but it's really only temporary. I'm sure your fist hurts you more now then a little sex has ever hurt me."
"You're lying," says Gaara. He can't even feel the pain in his hand over the sound of blood pounding in his ears. He doesn't know what the hell has just happened. Or what the hell has been happening.
"Oh please," Sakura slips her heels back on. "I've got your mind all tied up that you wouldn't know a lie if it bit you on the ass."
"What is that supposed to mean?" He senses this conversation isn't going to end well so he picks up his shirt off the bed and begins to pull his arm through the sleeves.
"Figure it out, and when you do don't come looking for me." She glances at the door. "In the mean time I have a party to get to."
Gaara stares at her in disbelief. "You can't go back out there," he says.
She snorts. "Do you really think you can stop me?"
"You're going to embarrass yourself," he warns her.
She raises her eyebrows. "No one is going to know about this. No one will believe you if you tell them."
"You're make-up is smeared and in another couple of hours you're going to have bruises all over your chest."
Sakura touches her face and frowns. "They'll think I was with Sasuke and he'll assume I was with a CEO."
"He knows about this and he doesn't care?" he stares at her in disbelief. "I thought you said that he loves you."
"He does love me, almost as much as he loves gay sex. Sasuke doesn't care whom I'm with as long as at the end of the day I'm still his doting arm candy. He loves me because he owns me. I'm like a pet."
Gaara's brain is about to go into overload. "You're okay with that?"
Sakura smiles sympathetically. "Poor, Gaara. You don't have any idea how things work in this world. People love me. I'm allowed to go wherever I want whenever I want. I get anything and everything I want. Yes, every once in awhile I have to do something unpleasant, but it's a small price to pay for having a life as wonderful as mine."
Gaara feels bile rising in his throat. "So, basically you're a high priced hooker."
Sakura shrugs. "It's better than being poor and underprivileged."
"You are fucked up. He shakes his head. "But I guess I should feel honored because I was about to get some for free."
"Oh, please," she scoffs. "You weren't going to get anything. I knew I could make you stop eventually. I just wanted to see how far you would get. You control yourself better than I imagined you would. I thought for sure you were going to at least get me out of my underwear. I was shocked when you actually stopped. But who knows, maybe you're impotent after all."
Gaara doesn't understand. He doesn't want to believe that he had just been played. "You're full of shit," he tells her.
"No, Gaara, you're just gullible. You're stupid too. Did you really think I was going to have sex with you? Did you really think I would want to have sex with you? I mean, when you say ridiculous things like that you're just begging for me to mess with your head."
"You're insane."
"You fell for every last bit of it. You were kind and gentle, but I could tell what you really wanted was for me to shut up and spread my legs. But all I had to do to put you on a leash was act a little shy and then you put on a little act of your own. You pretended to be human. You pretended that you could actually tolerate me. If you're that horny why don't you just get your boyfriend Naruto to suck it off for you? Everyone knows that he's your bitch."
He starts to feel the pain again. His muscles, his joint, his hand, his head, his bones; he's straining every cell in his body. "What the hell do you want from me?" he demands.
"Entertainment."
His neck feels hot. "You're a lunatic. You belong in a mental hospital."
"You're a criminal," she counters. "You belong in a jail house."
By this point Gaara is seeing red. He doesn't know how he even got himself into this situation. "Was there any part of what we just did and what you said true?" he asks.
"Your sister really is a slut."
Gaara Sabaku wants to kill her.
"Sasuke being gay, the crush on me, having sex with your father's friends? Is any of that even remotely true?"
"Nope." She smiles to herself. "It's all completely fabricated. Sasuke and I have a fabulous sex life and he is the only one who gets some from me." She laughs. "And you and I weren't even in the same sixth grade class."
Gaara Sabaku has officially had enough.
It's gotten to the point where he doesn't know which of her lies he wants to believe. He doesn't know whether she's the evil princess who passes the time by torturing the dragon, or is she the cursed princess who's father has locked in the tower and she's too afraid to call for help. He doesn't know which is worse, the idea that she's abusing him, or the idea that he father is abusing her. Either way, Gaara has to admit, Sakura Haruno is one hell of a liar.
He's not going to bother buttoning his shirt. He shoves his shoes onto his feet. He tries to push past her but she grabs his hand, his screaming red hand.
"Don't tell me that I've broken you already." She squeezes and he groans. "A toy like you doesn't come along every day. Most guys know better than let girls who hates them drag them around by their dicks. I don't think I'll be able to find another toy as malleable as you."
Gaara breaks free from her hold and pins her to the wall with his glare. "I'm not a toy, Sakura. I'm a monster, remember? But I'm nothing compared to you." he shakes his head. "For a few minutes there I actually gave a crap about you. If you had really had a problem I would have helped you, no questions asked. I was ready to kill for you." he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. "But I know better now. You're not a damsel in distress; you're a fucking psycho. You're a lying bitch, but the one your fooling is yourself. I think that you really do hate yourself. I think that your father hates you and Sasuke hates you. I think that even with all your toys and all your power you've never once truly gotten what you wanted, and that's to feel something other than drowning. You'll never know what joy feels like and you don't deserve to. I think that there was only one thing that you were honest about tonight." He reaches into his wallet, pulls out a fifty, and throws it onto the bed. "You really are a whore. Buy yourself something to eat because getting on top of you is like getting on top of a rotting corpse."
Sakura's cheeks begin to turn red and she stares at the money. Her eyes blazing. She looks back up at him with her jaw clenched. "I think we've both managed to make our points."
Gaara puts his hands over his ears. He doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want to think about it. He turns around and opens the door. He doesn't want to see her face. He doesn't stop walking until he's out of the house and back in the party.
He thanks god that its dusk and the atmosphere is no longer boiling. He immerses himself into the crowd hovering around Sasuke's larger than life birthday cake. He spots Naruto standing by the edge with a plate ready in hand. He pulls the blonde by the elbows and takes the plate out of his hands.
"What the hell, man?" shouts Naruto indignantly.
"We're leaving," answers Gaara. He hands to plate to once of the waitresses waiting in the wings.
"Are you kidding me? They haven't served dessert yet!"
Gaara has a negative amount of patience for this. "Do you want to walk home? I'll leave without you," he threatens.
"Fine, fine," Naruto concedes. "You win. We're leaving now."
It's not until they reach the valet that Naruto has the guts to ask Gaara why his shirt isn't on properly and his hand has swelled to the size of a watermelon.
"You were gone for over an hour. Who the hell did you get into a fight with?" Naruto asks finally.
Gaara doesn't answer. He has a difficult time driving back when the only hand that he can grip the steering wheel with is being wracked by tremors. He shouldn't be driving but he's too proud to turn over the keys to Naruto and he doesn't trust the blonde with his baby. Naruto tries over and over to get him to talk but Gaara brain is overloading already. He doesn't even have thoughts anymore. It's all static. There is no picture. He should have known to leave the room the moment she walked through the door.
Gaara puts the car in neutral and unlocks the doors when they reach Naruto's house. He waits for his friend to get out of the car.
"Gaara," Naruto says exasperatedly. Just because we're guys doesn't mean we can't talk. Besides, we always tell each other about fights."
Gaara stares at the dashboard. "Were we in the same sixth grade class?" he asks.
"Yes," answers Naruto. "But that was before we were friends."
"Was Sakura Haruno in our class?" He shouldn't bother asking when he already knows the answer.
"Yeah." Naruto laughs. "I forgot all about the sixth grade. Man," he puts his hands behind his head and leans back, "that was back when Sasuke was a human being. I used to eat instant ramen everyday for lunch. I hated your guts too."
Gaara scowls. "What the hell did I ever do to you?"
"I was jealous. Sakura sat right next to you and used to doodle your name all over her assignment book. Whenever you skipped out she would do your class work for you too." Naruto laughs again. "Isn't it ironic? Six years ago she would do all these cute little things to try to get your attention and now she goes out of her way to make you suffer. It's kind of funny how things change over time. I mean, Sakura was always on the prissy side, but I don't think it was until the eighth grade when she really became a nightmare."
"Thirteen years old." Gaara says under his breath. He beats his head on the steering wheel. "Damn, damn, damn." He doesn't know how he could have been more stupid. Time after time, he falls into her traps.
"Gaara, is this about Sakura?" Naruto guesses.
"No," Gaara lies. He reaches of Naruto and opens the door. "Get out. I've got to go home and put some ice on this."
"Alright," he hops out onto the sidewalk.
Gaara doesn't know what the hell he's expecting to accomplish with any of this. "Wait," he calls. Naruto turns around expectantly. "Is Sasuke Uchiha gay?"
"Flaming."
"How do you know?"
"He tried to kiss me."
Gaara's jaw drops. "Where the hell was I when this happened?"
"Playing hooky. This was also back in the sixth grade." Naruto shrugs. "He wasn't such an asshole back then, just confused."
"I guessed that explains why you were invited to the party," says Gaara dryly.
"Yeah, I guess so." The hero sighs. "Well, my mom is waiting by the door anxious to hear all about the party, so I'm going to go."
"Right." Gaara starts the engine of his car. "I'll see you later this weekend."
"Call me if you decide you want to tell me who your mysterious opponent was."
Not a chance. Gaara is not going to open his mouth about what happened in that room ever. As far as he's concerned nothing happened in that room. He didn't do anything and he didn't hear anything, and he especially didn't say anything. Sakura Haruno and her secrets and lies are none of his business. He doesn't owe her anything, not cruelty and certainly not compassion. He can't remember her smell or her taste or the way her fingers felt on his skin. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Gaara Sabaku has fucked up.
Okay, this chapter is basically dedicated to everyone who didn't bug me about updates.
The updates for the other stories should be within a week. If you're mad that I updated this story first... how sad for you. This one had just been sitting on my computer for a while so I figured I'd give people something to read.
It's interesting though right? Who is more screwed up this time? Sakura is the mentally unsound one :P
THANKS SO FREAKIN FREAKIN much for the people who review. I really love reviews. I love when people tell me what they think of the stories. I don't think reviewers get thanked enough. I'm always appalled when authors don't leave a note thanking reviewers and then have the nerve to ask for reviews. so THANK YOU. I really really cannot say that enough.
Thanks for being patient. There should be more updates in the next week or so.