laceyjane44

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest Day23

Prompt: Domestic

“What if this is my fault?”

Sakura looked over to her husband, his usually stoic expression was twisted in worry. “Don’t go placing any blame,” she advised, her hand finding his as they walked and giving him a reassuring squeeze. “We still don’t know the whole story.”

Gaara thinned his lips and drew his brow together, he’d been deep in thought ever since their presence was requested at the academy building. “He got into a fight.”

“I bet you it was a scuffle,” she replied.

“Has he said anything to you about this?” he asked, his concern clearly showing through.

Sakura shook her head. “He might be having a hard time adjusting, it’s nothing we can’t work through.”

Gaara sighed, the weight of indecision pressing down on him. “I knew we should’ve waited till next year; it was too soon.”

Sakura let go of his hand and patted his shoulder as he held open the academy’s front door for her. “He wanted to,” she reminded him. “He told us he was ready. We have to trust that.”

A few members of staff were milling about the halls and they lowered their heads as the Kazekage and his wife passed. It was just after noon, in the middle of the week, and they’d left their offices to meet with the head of the academy; apparently there had been a fight at the athletic fields during lunch. Gaara had been precipitating a nervous sweat their entire walk there, thinking of all the things that had gotten him in trouble as a young man, whereas Sakura was more so reminded of the endearing way that her young teammates always found trouble for themselves.

“You’ll be fine,” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

He nodded, taking a breath and regaining his usual composure. Again, he opened the office door for her, allowing his wife through first before closing it behind himself. The chief administrator got up to greet them and extended an offer to the seats across his desk.

“Please,” he said. “Have a seat. Thank you both for coming on such short notice.”

Sakura took her seat, poised and giving off an air of calm, and said, “Of course, thank you for calling us. Can you tell us about what happened?”

Gaara nodded for the man to begin, he wanted to get right the point, and his eyes slid to the side of the room where a young boy sat pouting with his arms crossed. He looked upset. Sakura leaned out from beside her husband and smiled at him, waving a little hello.

Shinki frowned and looked away.

Keeping his composure, Gaara’s pulse still raced through his chest. He’d been worried something like this might happen, he’d tried talking Shinki out of studying a year at the academy before assigning him a team. He was already so bright and incredibly skilled; he could have passed all the qualifying exams for his certifications with just a few months practice and without the hassle of attending the classes. But Shinki had wanted to give it a try, told him he wanted to be just like the normal kids, how could he tell him no after that? Though, Gaara had a sneaking suspicion it was actually because it was Riku’s first year at the academy.

When the administrator began retelling how the staff had discovered Shinki fighting with a classmate, the boy in question peeked over at the two that had been called to deal with him. Gaara sat composed and stone-faced, much as he always was, and even though Shinki had lived with them for quite some time now, he still found it difficult to get a read on him. Sakura was much more open with her emotions, she’d worn them on her sleeve since day one, and he could plainly see as her worry became more evident the longer the administrator talked.

He sighed, this was so stupid, he shouldn’t even be in trouble, there was nothing else he could have done and no other way he would have rather responded.

“As you know,” the man spoke in conclusion. “We take disputes among classmates very seriously. Having a healthy competition is one thing, but for interpersonal issues we’ve asked for the parents’ involvement.”

Gaara and Sakura nodded, agreeing that more discussion would be needed. Then, Sakura turned in her chair to better face Shinki and asked, “Is that what happened, Shinki?”

He hadn’t looked at her, but he did nod once, and he heard Gaara take a slow breath when he did. Shinki’s hand clenched his arm, he’d come to know some of the Kazekage’s darker past and how easily he could replicate those very same mistakes, and he swore he could feel that radiating disappointment now.

Sakura was talking with the administrator again. “Have you spoken with the other student?” They had, but the student had recalled nothing out of the ordinary and the fight being unprovoked. “So, he claimed no wrong doing?” There was twinge of disbelief in her voice, though – caught up in his thoughts and feeling the weight of his actions – Shinki hadn’t heard it.

“He’s lying,” he grumbled as he slouched deeper into his seat, his eyes glaring at the ground, the iron dusting over his clothes beginning to bristle.

Sakura then asked, “What was that?”

“He’s lying!” he snapped, the anger in his eyes lifting to her face only to be met with that same patient concern that always had him doubling back. He quickly looked away, his outbursts had been feeling more frustrating and misplaced these days, and they no longer helped him deal with his emotions.

Gaara spoke up then, and the patience in his voice gave Shinki a moment’s pause. “Then tell us what happened,” he advised. “Did he do something, or say something?” Gaara had hoped it wasn’t for the same minor infractions he used to send people to the hospital for, but if it was, they were actions he would only come to regret.

Shinki was quiet as he thought, wondering if his actions really had been justified as he thought them in the moment. Now, with three pairs of eyes staring him down, waiting for his answer, he was suddenly overcome with doubt. He’d made his classmate cry after all, and he was sure that he embarrassed him in front of his friends, likely hurting his own chances of finding any for himself, but then Shinki thought of Riku. He was still so young and the older kids could pick on him too easily, it’s why he wanted to go to the academy in the first place. He made no mistake that it would be tough for him, but he didn’t want Riku to go alone, he knew how much being alone sucked.

He grumbled something under his breath, arms still crossed in front of him, shoulders held up to his ears, that sour expression glaring daggers at the corner.

Sakura again had to encourage him, “Speak up, Shinki, and speak clearly.”

He’d gone a little pink in the face, embarrassed to have to say it again, but with his face turned from them he said, “He made fun of Riku for taking after our mom.”

Gaara’s steadying hand immediately found his wife’s knee as she quickly stifled a gasp. She was squeezing his hand then, her other covering her mouth though he could still hear her mutter Shinki’s last words. “Our mom.”

Shinki peaked over upon hearing the small sound she had made. Sakura’s ears had gone red and Gaara was clearly biting the inside of his lip just to keep his composure. The administrator was the most shocked to hear his reasons for starting a schoolyard brawl and asked, “He did what?”

“This makes sense now,” Gaara muttered, halfway relieved that Shinki hadn’t fought a kid for a no reason, and halfway more concerned that it meant his other son was getting teased for having the likeness of his mother.

“Goodness,” the man gaped from across the desk. “I’m so sorry, we had no idea – we’ll look into this right away.”

Sakura took a steady breath and cleared her throat. “That’s all right, I’d like to be connected with the parents first. We will discuss this with them.” The man agreed, apologetic to the very end, and he quickly gathered the contact information of the other parents and gave it to her.

“We’ll be keeping a close eye on things for the next few days,” the administrator assured them as they stood to go. “We’ll be in touch if anything else comes up. Thank you again for coming down right away.”

Sakura smiled and shook the man’s hand. “Anytime, have a nice afternoon.”

Gaara nodded to him and motioned for Shinki to get up and join them. He placed a hand on his shoulder as he led him out of the office, always struck with how small he still was, at how much weight rested on the shoulders of this child just as it had on his own.

Once the door had shut and they walked down the hall, Shinki watched as the two ahead of them led him out of the building. They walked side by side, in line as equals, and Gaara reached out to take his wife’s hand. She was grinning when she held out her hand, a peculiar expression given the conversation they’d just come from as he had thought that he would’ve immediately been in trouble. He thought they would’ve scolded him in front of the administrator, or maybe tried to ground him – little good that would do for a kid with no social life as it was – but he had desperately hoped they wouldn’t pull him from the academy.

He was nervous, incredibly so, but didn’t want to be blindsided later, and meagerly asked, “Um…Am I in trouble?”

The two stopped and turned to face him, no anger or disappointment in their eyes, just patience and an expression he couldn’t quite place, though it always made him feel better to be looked at that way. Gaara leaned down to face him at eye level, though his eyes were always avoidant, and he always had that guarded expression across his young face either way. “We’ll need to discuss this at home, and it is important to work out disputes through conversation rather than force.”

Sakura was knelt at his side then, her hands clutching his and gazing into his eyes with such flowery brightness that Shinki grimaced as he felt his face get hot. He averted his eyes. “You’re not in trouble, sweetheart,” she said, squeezing his fingers in her grasp. “And I’m so proud of you for wanting to stand up for your brother.”

He met her gaze only for a moment before looking to his hands held gently in her own. She always had such a considerate touch and never used any force, even though he had seen firsthand how powerful those unassuming hands could be. “You are?” he asked after a moment, his brow pulled together over his eyes.

Sakura nodded. “Of course, but we need to set a good example for Riku, he’ll be looking up to you, you know?”

Shinki felt a sharp pang in his chest and the twitch of his face expressed it. Now, for the first time, he was realizing what it was that he’d done wrong. He’d made a wrongful choice on behalf of someone close to him and tried to justify it by using the transgression against them as his own. It wasn’t that he’d hit his classmate, or embarrassed him to tears, he could always apologize for that; it was because of the example he’d set for someone younger and more impressionable.

In the light of his mistakes, Shinki felt his lower lip wobble but refused to shed a tear. Though, it was always hard to keep that hardened shell around him when surrounded by such unexpected patience and unfamiliar warmth, almost as if he really did have a family of his own now. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, his voice trembling a little before he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Sakura’s hands moved to his shoulders, keeping him squared in front of her as she smiled a little and asked, “What? What was that?”

Shinki sighed, exasperated that she didn’t know when to quit, and avoided both her and Gaara’s eager eyes as he repeated with a different choice of words, “Yes, Mom.”

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #sakura haruno #gaara #gaaraxsakura #sakugaa #Naruto alternate timeline

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest Day 22

Prompt: Morning After

(Day 2, Continued)

He had been awake since before sunrise. The dawn hadn’t broken yet, the streets outside his rental hadn’t begun bustling with the morning commute, and where he was usually tempted to rise for an early shower and a quiet morning, he chose instead to stay tucked within his bed.

It had snowed overnight, his windowsill was topped with a fresh dusting of powder, and the air within his bedroom was frigid compared to the heat snuggled up to his side. Her hair strewn about her pillow – his pillow – and his arm thrown over her as it had been all night, Sakura slept between his sheets. Gaara had awoken several times throughout the night, unaccustomed to sharing his bed with someone, and as he found her there with him each time, he drew her closer, breathing her in and thinking of the night they had shared.

When she had kissed him, he’d been stunned beyond words. He’d only meant to flirt with her a little more, the way she blushed for him was so endearing, but she practically jumped him once they were alone together and he had only wished that he’d tried his luck with this invitation sooner. Once she had him, she didn’t let go. Her lips never left his, she grabbed hold of him and pressed herself against him, she was brimming with a desperation that was clearly uncertain and frantic.

He had stepped her back toward the bed, grabbing ahold of her hands and pulling them from about his neck. She sat back, her breaths coming out in shallow puffs, her face flushed, and her eyes glazed. Gaara knelt in front of her, her hands still held in his own, and he couldn’t help but grin at the embarrassed look in her eyes as she avoided his gaze.

“Slow down,” he said to her, his voice carrying that flirtatious tease that had lured her to him. “I’m trying to buy you dinner first.”

She laughed a little nervously, her fingers fiddling in his hands. “I’m sorry,” she breathed.

“Don’t be,” he said through his grin. He moved his hands to rest against her knees before smoothing them up the curve of her thighs and to her waist. She practically shook under his touch. “I’m not.”

Putting her hands to her face, Sakura tried to smooth her expression, though her brow was still drawn and her features still tense. “I was nervous,” she tried to explain.

“You’re still nervous,” Gaara observed. “Do you want me that badly?”

She flustered for a response, her face going red, her eyes focusing anywhere that wasn’t on him, and he had been tempted to rest his head against her lap and enjoy the show she put on for him. Never had he thought that the risk of showing his pointed interest would reward him with her presence in his bedroom and his touch allowed on her body. Had they been more established, had he been able to test the waters of her desires, he never would have dreamt of pushing her away. But she was shaking, uncertain, and perhaps anxious that if she didn’t act then and there that an opportunity would slip her by.

He could’ve grinned, it seemed they shared that in common.

He propped his chin up on her knee, his fingers playing with the hem of her shirt as he pouted. “You never told me your thoughts on my piece,” he muttered. “We’ll have to discuss it over our food.”

When their food had come, they joined his roommate and his girlfriend at the table. Sakura was a little shy at first but the two with were more than social and outgoing enough to lead their conversations. Gaara was relieved that Sakura appeared to become more so relaxed the longer they all sat and talked, and when their company excused themselves to a movie in the other bedroom, he suggested they go back to his.

She was calmer now, didn’t quiver as much under his touch, and even though he’d truthfully invited her over because he had work to do and he couldn’t bear leaving their café sessions early, there was no work being done.

Gaara could have spent the remainder of their night memorizing the sensation of her skin under his touch and the flavor of her lips against his own. Showering her with the affection he’d been harboring, he’d rid her of her shirt, his own as well, and in the darkness of his room, the dim streetlights shining in through his blinds, his fingers found the waistline of her pants. Staying his hands, she was gasping when she broke away from his kiss, repeating for him to wait.

Blushing, she looked to the side and stammered out a meager, “Wait, I don’t –” before she was caught up in another thought and backtracking altogether.

He had removed himself from atop of her, asking what had been wrong, and she’d gone red in the face as she admitted to having gotten her period in class earlier that day. It wasn’t his intention to laugh at her, but he certainly did a little when he followed up by asking, “As a medical major, you’re embarrassed by this?”

She’d told him to shut up even though there was a bit of a smirk pulling at the corners of her frown. He didn’t press the subject after that, she clearly wasn’t comfortable with continuing any further and instead he pulled out his laptop. They spent the next while watching a show as they lay together, she was still very much welcoming to his touch, and she was soon cuddled against him under his covers. He never brought up their projects again that night, and not once did he mention a walk back to the dorms.

When the season of their show ended and she asked when she should walk back, he responded, “In the morning…when we go to class.” He was nearly half asleep with his face tucked into the pillow beside her, and he’d pulled her closer when he answered.

“You want me to stay?” she asked, stroking her fingers through his hair and turning to better face him as she lay there. He nodded, eyes closed, relaxed under her caress. She closed his laptop and continued to appreciate the warmth of him, each brush of her skin against his tempting her to remain with there in his bed.

She had stayed all night, though he’d still been worried that she might decide to leave at any point, but seeing her sleeping in his arms when he awoke in the morning was a sight that he thought himself lucky to behold. He brushed some hair out of her face and his touch tickled her skin, causing her to stir.

She mumbled something, turning her face into her pillow, before stretching out next to him as he admired the shape of her. “What time is it?” she asked, her voice grumbled and half awake.

“Nearly seven,” he answered quietly, joining her on her pillow and pressing a kiss against her forehead. She groaned and snuggled closer. “We don’t have to go anywhere yet.”

“Thanks for letting me spend the night,” she said, pulling the covers over her a little more.

“Anytime you want,” he offered, enjoying the way she hooked her leg over her hip and molded her form against him. “I slept amazingly with you here.”

She scoffed and seemed to laugh a little. Her voice was still very quiet. “Liar, I know I’m a bed hog.”

Gaara ran his fingertips over her skin. “Who told you that?”

“My friends share my bed with me,” she sighed, the feeling of goosebumps on her skin rousing her from the grip of sleep.

“Hm,” Gaara mumbled as he caressed her thigh that she had hooked over him, slipping his fingers behind her knee. “Envious.”

He hadn’t seen her bite her lip to suppress moaning at his touch. “Of my girlfriends?”

“Of anyone to share a bed with you,” he said, the feeling of her breath on his neck exciting him. “Though, I’m sure there are plenty who are just as envious of me.”

“You think other people crashed my studying like you did?”

“Maybe,” he mused. “But definitely not after I showed up.”

She laughed then, remembering how she’d been so awkward about him recognizing her. “I can’t believe you did that,” she said. “You had no idea who I was and I must’ve looked like an idiot.”

Gaara simply pulled her closer and kissed her forehead again. “No, you didn’t, you just looked like a hot mess.”

She ran her fingers over his chest for a moment, her silence reflecting her contemplation, and she said, “Sorry about last night, I should’ve mentioned I was on my period.”

This perplexed him a little, and he clarified, “You have nothing to be sorry for, we didn’t have to do anything even if you weren’t.”

“Well,” she began, again followed by a moment of silence before she said, “I kinda wanted to.”

Gaara followed her avoidant gaze. “What?” he asked, teasing her with that smirk on his face. “Kinda?” She offered him a nod as she hid her face against his neck. “You’re welcome to jump me like that any time you feel like it.”

She peered up at him and asked, “So I can spend the night again?”

“Of course, you could again tonight if you wanted to. Though,” he said as he remembered his latest project sitting unfinished against the wall. “I would need to get my assignment done.”

“Right,” she groaned, remembering her own work that had gone forgotten. “Me, too.”

“It’s a date, then?”

Sakura smiled against his skin, her heart racing just a little. “Sure, it’s a date.”

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #sakura haruno #gaara #gaaraxsakura #sakugaa #naruto au #Day2Continued #Modern

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest Day21

Prompt: "What will this cost me?"

(Mythical AU)

Compared to the winds raging over the open desert, the inside of the canyon’s cave was quiet and still.

Once free from the gales of the outside, Gaara pulled the deep hood of his cloak down and unwrapped the scarf from about his face. Sand trickled off him as he shook out his clothing, the dull flapping of the fabric echoing deeper into the cave. He had made it, he had found it, right where he was told it would be. He took one last look at the world beyond the entrance, to the endless dunes he had traveled through to get here, and hoped that his journey wouldn’t be in vain.

With a torch pulled from his pack, he doused it in lamp oil and set it aflame, the flickering light illuminated his way into the tunnel growing deeper and darker before him. This would be his last chance, he knew it, and if he wanted to turn back, he could only do so now. Steeling his will and swallowing his fear, he refused to back down and run. This is what he journeyed for, this is what he had been seeking, and the only way to attain what he desired would be through his deal.

Setting off, his steps slow and cautious, Gaara kept himself alert to the changes in the air around him. As the entrance to the cave became further behind him, the sounds of the wind outside had subsided, and he found himself isolated in darkness. Only a flickering dome of light followed him, the walls of the cave growing narrower the deeper he went, and the air quickly became stale and musty. At his feet were the bones of animals that had sought this cave as their final resting place, the possessions of those to travel here before him, unaware that this would be their tomb as well, and strange markings covered the walls. Like scratch marks, they were slashed into the rock, though they were high above his head, even on the ceiling, and he knew of only one thing capable of etching those marks into the stone.

His heart began to race, his blood ran cold, and he knew it wasn’t due to the sudden chill in the air. He was frightened, anyone in their right mind would have been, though only those mad enough to attempt such a daring expedition would ever hope to make it to where his feet currently tread. He took slow and even breaths, fear would do him no good, and when he approached a thin break in the wall of the cave, a junction that the tunnel had led him to, the pressure in the air around him suddenly changed.

Electric, heavy, and reverberating through his chest, it had nearly made him think to turn back. But he thought of why he had made the dangerous trek into the sands alone, why he had sought this power, and the visions of her face in his memories gave him strength.

Slipping through the narrow passageway, he came out the other side within an open chamber. The feeling of pressure was stronger in here, the air seemed to smell of old musk and dried blood. Gaara held up his torch, the flame illuminating the jagged walls of the chamber, it was stained with splashes of a dark substance.

A warrior since birth, he recognized blood in any form it took. Though, where it had come from was a mystery; there were no bones in here, there were no corpses, but the longer he stood within the space, the stronger the stench of blood became.

Gaara took a deep breath, knowing his fate may be sealed the very same, and readied himself for what was to come.

“I know that which I seek,” he called out into the open space, his voice echoing around him and repeating his words. “And I come prepared to make a deal.”

Silence answered him, the flickering of his flame the only sound to be heard within the cave.

Another deep breath, his exhale shook this time, before he belted out, “Show yourself!” His command bounced between the walls, reverberating the desperation he’d long since felt, and eventually quieted.

Nothing.

The arm hand holding his torch dropped to his side and he huffed. Had he said something wrong? Was this the wrong cave? It couldn’t have been, it was precisely where the fortune teller had advised him, though they begged of him to reconsider. Perhaps the old stories were just that; stories, and there was no deal to be made here.

Frustration bubbled up within him, years of pent-up anger and resentment brimming up to his eyes before he finally fisted a hand in his hair, grit his teeth, and cursed the ancestors of his name. Was there nothing else to be done? “Dammit,” he muttered, his hand clutching the torch at his side in an iron grip before his patience snapped and he hurled it against the wall. “Dammit!”

The torch bounced off the wall, rolling to the ground, the lit oil leaving a flickering trail of flame before its light extinguished. Darkness enveloped him then, a pitch black that was deeper than any night kept awake by the demons of his past and, standing alone in this faraway cave, he felt his shoulders slump.

“Heh,” Gaara laughed as he shook his head, a mild grin on his face. “I’ve finally gone mad.”

A chill swept through the chamber on the back of a sudden draft and when it whipped around him, he covered his eyes as the sand it kicked up sprayed across his face. He couldn’t see where it was coming from, he hadn’t seen another entrance into the chamber, and that pressure returned with force. The weight of it at this time was unimaginable; it bore down on him and nearly drove him to his knees, a ringing in his ears drowning out all thought of panic and retreat, and he could do nothing but hold his head as it flared in pain.

“Not yet,” whispered a voice, deep and guttural, and it seemed to be carried on the very wind that surrounded him.

All at once his torch near the wall was alight again and he jumped in shock. It rolled over to his feet, no longer leaving a trail of burning oil and, choosing sight over the fear of the unknown, he grabbed it and raised it up above him.

At first, he thought it the smoke from the torch that was gathering at the ceiling, but it wasn’t black; it was tinged a crimson red, and from its haze came a light sprinkling of sand.

Gaara froze, his breath stolen from his lungs, and he watched as the smoke churned and congregated, becoming an opaque cloud out of a fine mist. A light, two of them, golden and mesmerizing, took form from within the cloud, and he knew at once the eyes of a jinn were upon him.

From the musky smell in the air, the stench of blood became ever more prominent and, as the smoke descended from the ceiling and those eyes became on level with his own, he willed himself to find strength.

“What do they call you?” it asked, its voice just as raspy and grating to the ears.

Gaara swallowed, a bead of nervous sweat dripping down his temple. “I am called Gaara,” he answered, managing to keep his voice relatively even.

“You know what you seek,” the voice said, it gave Gaara a chill; it had been listening.

“And I am prepared to make a deal,” he assured again, taking a bold step forward toward the repugnant smoke.

He now stood in the center of the chamber and the smoke began to swirl around him and he felt as if eyes were on him from every corner, as if he was being studied. “To what end?”

“Power,” he said. “Influence. I wish to rule these lands.”

A pause as the jinn observed him “Rule them? Why?”

He refused to back down and give in to this instinctual fear coursing through his veins and telling him to run. This was a beast of old, a consumer of men and the downfall of kings; nothing came without a price. “I have given everything to this land,” he began, conviction in his words as his hatred for the people who had scorned him outweighed his fear of this apparition. “I lost my mother to be born, I lost my father to the greed for power, and the sacrifices of my lifelong commitment have been repaid in their desire for my blood.”

The jinn did not respond, those golden eyes, like diamonds glittering in the darkness, only stared silently through him.

He willed himself to remain hardened; an audience with the likes of a jinn was an opportunity that sent nearly all to their graves in failure. “I will suffer at their feet no longer,” he declared. “I will overthrow the systems that had failed me and instill a new law.” His fist clenched at his side, the knuckles around the torch going white. “Mine will be a reign for the ages, a sovereignty that will be unshakable. Those that have denied me will bow at my feet, my judgements untestable and my word absolute.”

The jinn’s smoke closed it, the eyes coming closer, and again he felt as though they stared straight through him. It spoke then, its words chilling him and eliciting a shaken breath. “What of the woman?”

Try as he might, her face flashed through his mind, the vibrancy of her green eyes a color unknown to him in the desert, the hue of her hair unlike any flower that bloomed among the sands. She had stepped into his life like a monsoon in the wake of a century long drought, giving promises of new beginnings and rebirth. Even her gaze falling upon him was like the gentle patter of rain on his face, quenching a thirst he didn’t know he possessed. “There is no woman.”

“I see into your mind,” the jinn warned. “She has infested you.”

Gaara broke his gaze from those floating eyes, unable to bare how they saw the desperate truth.

If he had been able, he would have simply forgotten about her, it would have made this existence of his bearable, but she had captivated him with her exotic allure and he coveted her since. How could he have been so enraptured by the simple glances and kind few words she had thrown his way? He was a hardened warrior that made no qualms over being bathed in blood, made no arguments over being sent to battle, and he had resigned to a lifetime spent as cannon fodder.

But she…she had melted him, and the jinn had already seen that.

“She is above me,” he admitted, his teeth clenched. “Beyond my reach. Her prospects are more than what I can offer, but I refuse to watch another man have her.”

“I know,” the jinn responded. “Your desires lay in a foreign land, for a prize most sought.” The eyes circled him slowly, the mass of smoke leaving a trail around him. “Why?”

Gaara wouldn’t refuse, it would be fruitless to do so. “Had I been stronger, I could have overthrown that land and claimed her, but I failed.”

“Was she your only prize?”

Shaking his head, a cold tingle traveled up his neck as the eyes moved behind him, as if he were prey in the gaze of a cunning predator. “No, but she was the only regret I left behind.”

The pressure returned, a sudden force weighing down on him and a searing heat through his mind. Clutching his head, the pain surged through him and his knees buckled, he groaned as he sunk to the ground. His torch fell beside him, his hands fisted in his hair, doubled over as he tried to breathe through it and keep himself calm.

“A changed man?” the jinn grumbled, amused. A deep and foreboding chuckle echoed throughout the chamber.  “You fool yourself. You only seek to rule these lands to attain her favor. Will you not lose yourself to greed just as your father?”

Knees on the sandy earth, pain subsiding, Gaara remained humbled before the spirit. “She would not have me if I abused the title that I seek,” he said, the truth of his words evident in every memory that he possessed of her. “I know this to be true.”

The voice sounded closer this time, as if spoken from lips right at his ear, and he shivered with unease. “If I could give you her body,” the jinn began, the very words suggesting his deepest desires. “Would you relinquish her heart?”

Gaara’s breath hitched in his lungs. Was this it? Within his grasp at last could be the greatest pleasure of his life, his biggest triumph as all those to pursue her watched as she fell to his will. He could covet her away within his lands where no one could steal her from him, able to drink in the spoils of his victories without fear of refusal, where she could be his and his alone.

His breath escaped him, a short laugh as he shook his head, and he rose from the floor to look into those golden eyes that floated within the smoke. “You tempt me,” he said. “But I refuse, her body without her intent, without her affection, it would mean nothing.”

“Then I cannot give you what you wish,” the jinn replied.

Gaara sighed, dejection settling over him as his heart sunk into his stomach. After the days of endless trekking through the unforgiving desert, after the nights spent shivering with chill, after his rations ran out and his water dried up, this was his answer. He should have known.

“But,” the jinn spoke again. Gaara looked up. “I can help you earn her.”

His heart thumping in his chest, he swallowed; his fear, his apprehension, his doubt, all of it. “What must I do?” he asked, desperate for whatever answer may come. If there be a way; he could do it. If he be put on a path to her; he would walk it no matter the ground. “What will this cost me?”

The jinn spoke slowly, clearly, a deal could only be made if he knew what to sacrifice. “I need a body,” it said. “I need flesh, and blood.” The mist began closing in and where it brushed against his cloak it felt frigid and vile. “I will need you.”

Gaara stared ahead to the walls of the chamber, to the splatters of stain that he had observed when he first entered. He could very well be looking his at his own fate, but even so, he would at least be free of this longing. He went to speak but his voice caught in his throat. He grimaced, the weight of that energy that surrounded him making it hard to breathe. “If it allow me the power to pursue my conquest,” he spoke, that same determination returning to his voice as it had when had called upon the jinn. “If it make me worthy of her, then so be it.”

The smoke closed in, enveloping him in an inescapable cold that permeated his flesh down to his bones. He cried out within the isolation of that chamber as another gust of wind kicked up around him and the sand at his feet began to swirl. He collapsed to the floor, his body going limp with the pain, with the cold. He gasped for desperate breaths. How could something born of the desert feel so frozen? It felt as though the life were being sucked from his core.

Suffocating, it swarmed his face and he was forced to breathe it in. It was thick and rancid and tasted of death, his throat constricting around each breath and his stomach retching, it burned his nose and his lungs, his eyes began to water. He was on his back then, his body thrashing against the onslaught as he felt every fiber of his being fill with the sickly weight of the spirit. It crawled down body, settling into his limbs and swelling within his mind. Nearly overcome, Gaara wondered if this had been the fate of the others, filled to the brim until they simply burst from the immensity of this power.

Just until he thought he could take no more, when he thought he may have truly traded his life for the chance to chase a dream, the wind stopped and the pressure lifted.

Air suddenly filled his lungs; he coughed as he convulsed on the floor. The smoke was gone and he shivered when that icy cold lost its grip. With shaken hands and arms he wasn’t sure would hold him, he attempted to lift himself from the ground. His body felt different, his muscles felt new and not like his own. What had happened to him? He made it to his knees and hunched over, a sudden queasiness slushing within his gut that turned his stomach and he puked.

He hadn’t eaten in two days, the last time he drank was the previous night, he had nothing but bile and it burned his throat all the same as the smoke had. Shaking, he couldn’t yet find the strength to stand, though he found the strength to choke out a laugh at his sorry predicament, weighing his chances of returning alive now that he’d survived accosting a jinn.

Though, just to be sure… “Is it done?” he breathed, his voice was horse and scratchy.

There were no more words spoken within the room, they were now within himself. Startled, the whisper came as a foreign voice inside his mind, like a thought that wasn’t his own.

You have what you need, but your repayment has only just begun.

Gaara looked down at his hands, contemplating the blood he felt throbbing through his veins. He was overcome with a sensation he couldn’t place, a feeling of power that coursed through his body and begged for release. “What is it that you’ve given me?”

As the gusts within the chamber had died, the hollow whistling of the wind seeping its way from the entrance of the cave found him in the flickering darkness cast by his discarded torch. The sand storm still rages. The jinn spoke to him. Go into it, I will show you.

He obeyed, managing to find his feet as the uncertainty of this new feeling quickly faded away. He now felt invigorated and empowered, his senses felt sharper, and he abandoned the torch to die out in the chamber as he left.  

“So” Gaara huffed as he guided his hands along the wall, though he could see much better now. Had there been this much light when he first entered? “What do I call you?”

…Shukaku

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #sakura haruno #gaaraxsakura #gaara #sakugaa #mythical au

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest day20

Prompt: Joint Village Mission

“They sent you?”

Sakura quirked her brow, staring down the man before her and his quizzical gaze. “I could say the same thing,” she stated.

Finding herself in the land of snow, she pulled the cloak closer to her neck, the wind was biting, and she cared not for these pleasantries happening amidst a snowstorm. She was here to better understand the current illness sweeping through the small villages in the area and bring reports back to her homeland. It was a matter of diplomacy; other nations had sent their representatives, like her companion here, and their mission would be to assist in identifying the cause and synthesizing a cure or treatment.

Gaara was the last person she thought that the sand would send, he seemed far too out of place with flakes of snow sticking in his hair and the tinge of red across his nose and cheeks. Even his ears looked to be on the verge of frostbite.

She would forgo the mild insult he’d just given her; it didn’t appear like he was aware of it anyway, and figured he wouldn’t have known of her extensive knowledge of medicine. “Come on,” she said as she turned from him, the snow falling quietly around them. “Our cabin is over here.”

Spread across the land, pairs of the traveling researchers were strewn about the fringe villages afflicted with the mysterious blight. She had been paired with Gaara, it seemed, and she figured it had to do with his history with Naruto and her knowledge of his temperament. They were acquainted already, so this arrangement was likely best.

Their cabin was small but cozy, a woodburning stove kept it plenty warm, a pair of beds were in the corner, though since Gaara didn’t even sleep she hadn’t the need to feel shy about it, and they’d been stocked with provisions of food rations, some sweets, and even some tea. The first few days had been spent meeting with medical staff providing care for the area, gathering information and getting a grasp on the current situation. Sakura had involved herself with the patients after that, whether it be at the meager clinics or during home visits, and she was able to help isolate those suffering from the illness from those suffering from other ailments with similar symptoms.

It had been busy, they didn’t spend much time in the cabin, but then the blizzard came.

Unexpectedly, the clouds dumped several inches of snow in just a few hours and once it began, Sakura had been encouraged to shelter in her cabin for the remainder of the night. It had been empty when she had gotten there, the fire had gone out, and it was incredibly chilly.

With a bit of elbow grease, the fire was started, the stove began to radiate heat throughout the small space, and she set a kettle of water to boil. These were among the nicest accommodations she’d had on a mission and, even though the conditions were serious, she felt at ease enough to make herself a relaxing cup of tea. Sat on the couch, knit blanket thrown over her lap, feet pulled up and huddled next to her for warmth, she sipped her tea and enjoyed the quiet of the falling snow.

Then the door burst open. Frigid wind whipped around her, and a flurry of snow followed Gaara inside. His cloak was covered in a dusting of white powder, his hair the same, and he stepped quickly over to the stove. Shedding his covering, he knelt in front of the fire and held out his hands, sighing as they began to thaw in the heat.

Sakura, perplexed since she first saw him, spoke up from the couch behind where he knelt. “Long time no see,” she greeted.

Gaara nodded; perhaps it was for her, but he had seen her each time he returned in the early hours of the morning, though, she was always asleep in her bed. He hadn’t been sticking around the cabin much for the sake of her comfort, it had been a surprise to be lodged with a woman, and he thought it only polite.

“I don’t mean to sound rude,” she began, the warm cup nestled in her fingers coming to rest at her lips for a sip. “But you have been way out of your element.”

Gaara sighed, picking himself up from the floor and joining her on the couch to enjoy the warmth of the fire. “Tell me about it.” He kicked off his boots, they were soaked, and when Sakura pointed to the door, he tossed his over with hers.

She observed him for a moment as he did so; his hands were going red, the tips of his ears looked wind burnt, and he appeared to be suppressing a chill. She set her cup down and got up from the couch. “Jasmine or honeysuckle?” she asked as she approached the stove. Tapping the side of the kettle, Sakura tested how hot it still was and it gave Gaara the hint he needed.

“Jasmine,” he responded, his answer a bit hesitant.

Pouring him a cup, she joined him on the couch again, facing him this time, and Gaara gladly warmed his hands with the hot drink. “If the cold bothers you so much, why did you accept the mission?” she asked, the question had been on her mind since she first saw him stood frigid and miserable their first day on the job.

Gaara blew on his tea, enjoying the way the hot steam wafted across his icy skin. He was a man of the scorching sands and the blazing sun, his body radiated the heat of the desert, and it made the cold all the more noticeable. “I was tempted to decline, but I’m trying to move up in my station,” he explained. “I’ve been told I need to work on my relations and diplomacy.”

Sakura snickered, Gaara glanced at her before looking back at the fire. “I suppose this would be your ultimate test; a noncombative goodwill mission to the frozen wilderness.”

Gaara rolled his eyes. “Precisely,” he groaned before he sipped his tea. Finally, he was able to feel the warmth permeating him from within and banishing the chill of the blizzard.

She smiled; she hadn’t thought he could look so endearing when put out in the cold. “You’ve been well received,” she said. “I’ve had several people ask me where to find you, but I never knew where you were. Seems like your relations are getting along just fine.”

He pondered that for a moment, replaying the many interactions he’d had during his time out here, and found a small smile forming on his lips. “Good,” he said, his voice quiet, and then he looked over to her, his expression guarded yet determined. “What about you?” he asked, only gaining a look of confusion from her. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”

Sakura laughed and shook her head. “Oh, goodness, no! You’ve barely even been here, you’re a lot of people’s idea of the perfect roommate.”

He watched her as she laughed, the casual and friendly demeanor was almost as warming as the fire they sat before, and there was gratitude to be had for getting paired with her. He wasn’t sure anyone else would understand his peculiarities or be comfortable with his lack of conversation. “Good.”

“It won’t be much longer,” she encouraged him. “We’ve only got a few more days before we should have what we need to research this on our own. You can bring word of your successes back home with you.”

Gaara nodded, there was a feeling a fullness to the atmosphere that had always been so empty as it followed him before. A warm fire, the quiet snow and whistling of the blizzard winds, the smell of jasmine and an easy company in his presence; Gaara began to think he should have spent more time in the cabin, he was sure the next few days would feel far too short.

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #sakura haruno #gaara #gaaraxsakura #sakugaa #just friends #for now

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest Day19

Prompt: Forgiveness/Strength

For years, he had been certain that he knew what strength was. He had secured victory after victory in his missions, adorned himself with recognitions and honors, and had bested nearly every opponent to face him. He had been unmoved by pleas for mercy, unbothered by the lingering stench of blood, and he gave no leniency for foolishness. Thoughts of friendships and companions, even family, they muddied his mind and did nothing but cause him pain. He would never have them anyway, he’d always thought so, therefore what was the use in dwelling?

Then, altogether and unexpectedly, she had confronted his steadfast convictions with her own, and he had been overrun.

Her physical prowess was no match for him at that time, and she had been an easy target to use against her team. But she had shocked him with the intensity of her eyes as she protected her teammate, knowing there was nothing she could do to thwart him, and yet there she stood; tenacious, spirit aflame, and brave in the face of such danger. He had been beaten by Naruto after that, in no small part by the way that she had shaken him, and he’d been plagued with thoughts of them upon his retreat.

Gaara had been a changed man after that, his views and his longstanding beliefs had been flipped on their heads, shaking his foundations and forcing him to rebuild from the ground up. It had been an arduous journey, and on several occasions, he was tempted to do away with his new path; the old ways were so much easier, but he couldn’t. There had been a strength to Naruto, to her, that he hadn’t initially seen and that couldn’t be perceived simply by abilities alone. They, along with others from their nation, had clearly boasted the ways of unity, but he hadn’t known the true extend of the strength it bestowed until he had confessed his regret, and asked for her forgiveness.

So easily, so simply, it had been given. A warm smile, a twinge of her brow as if to say she pitied him, and what he’d asked for was his. Had their encounter not weighed on her as it did on him? Had it not kept her awake at night to remember having the life slowly squeezed out of her? Was she just a fool? Or was he?

More so than before, Sakura was on his mind after that. He was bewildered and bewitched all the same, she had shed the memories of her near demise at his hand and held her head high before him still. After that, she’d made an example of others to break her trust as well. Her childhood friend with which she was always at odds; she said that they’d cried when they finally talked through their long-held distain for one another, now their friendship was stronger than ever. When Sasuke defected and attacked her in the night to allow himself headway; he hadn’t been there to show remorse, but she trusted that one day he would feel it, and she forgave him for what he had done. Though, forgiving him for what he had done to Naruto was much more difficult, and she had quietly admitted to him that she had struggled with the idea.

In his time spent captivated by her, he hadn’t known a grudge to persist within her heart, he hadn’t seen animosity sully her beautiful face, and there was no trace of enmity in her view of the world. Stunned, stupefied, he watched as she left the past in the past; not dismissive, not forgetful, but evolving beyond and growing around the transgressions against her.

It inspired him, evoked a hope inside of him. Could he learn to do the same? Would he be able to forgive those that had taken so much from him, tried to kill him, cursed him to this damnable fate? If he could, perhaps he could achieve the same weightless stride and proud chin, maybe even reflect that warmth and sincerity in her eyes when she smiled.

He hadn’t known when it finally struck him, there had been so many confusing things to sort through when rebuilding his life, but she had made it undeniably clear; strength did not lay in power alone. It was her uncanny ability to forgive, that was where the strength of her heart had come from, and she had inadvertently shared it with him.

It wasn’t easy, and she had cautioned him as much, but with enough time and opportunity to talk through it, he began feeling the layers of built-up resentment and scorn fall away. Each day he felt like he could hold his head higher, felt like he walked a little lighter, and she had been by his side throughout it all. He didn’t know what he would have done without her support and her wisdom in matters of the heart and its many facets, he likely would’ve been lost and resigned to the fate of malcontent.

“I’m worried,” she said, her tone flat and her expression drawn.

Gaara looked over from the papers strewn over his kitchen table. Sakura lay on their couch, staring at the ceiling. “Why?”

She rolled over on the couch and propped her chin up on the armrest, watching him from her perch. “What if I’m not good enough?”

Dropping his papers, he went to her side, kneeling and stroking her face. She leaned into his touch. “Must I list your qualifications again?” he asked, having seen this apprehensiveness before.

Sakura pouted and glanced away. “Everyone has achievements, and some more so than me.”

Gaara leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. “But no one will love me the way that you do,” he said, the certainty behind his words finally getting a small smile from her. “And no one else will love my people the way that you will. As my equal, I would accept no one else.”

She hid her smile from him then, perhaps she wanted to hear his sweet words a little more, and simply muttered, “Really?”

Gaara nodded, adoring the way that her hardened shell softened for him. She could bury him under her misgivings and insecurities, and he would dismantle them all so that she would continue to stand tall. She had been so imperceivably strong, for herself, for her friends, for him, she probably didn’t even realize the power she carried. But he did, and he would embody her ways and leave behind the shadows of his past, he would forgive those that had harmed him and wished him misery, without the weight of their betrayals he could follow her trajectory and achieve the wholeness of self that she had found.

“I’ll do my best,” she said, spoken from the lips of the strongest woman he knew. “But you’ll need to guide me sometimes.”

“As much as you need,” he promised. “For the rest of your life.”

For years, he had thought that he knew what strength was, but now, he was truly certain.

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #sakura haruno #gaara #gaaraxsakura #sakugaa

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 Day18

Prompt: Secret Relationship/Masquerade

“Do not go too far, dear,” her mother scolded. “You must dance with a few of your bachelors this evening.”

“But, Mother,” her daughter whined. “The youngest among them is six years my senior, and the oldest would be comparable to dancing with Uncle!”

With a flick of her wrist, her mother folded her fan closed, using it to point at her daughter. A bejeweled and feathered mask, pinned perfectly to her hair and wrapped in a vibrant green silk, covered her mothers face though it was unable to cover the intensity of her glare. “And his fortune is comparable to that of a duke,” she hissed under her breath. “You are the only child of our name, and your uncle heads the family; without marriage, you’ll get nothing when your father and I are gone.

“I can manage my–”

“We cannot allow your youth to waste away while the prospect of your future remains destitute.” There was no room for rebuttal; there never was. “Understand?”

Sakura lowered her gaze, her voice quieting. “Yes, Mother.”

Another flick of her wrist, her fan was open again and she was waving the curled tendrils of her updo away from her face, the ballroom could be stifling at times. “Good, you behave as though you’d prefer a convent.”

“No, Mother.”

Observing her daughter for a moment, she sighed and waved a hand. “Go, mingle with the rest of the young women, perhaps they can assist you in narrowing down your choice. Duke Uchiha’s second son is quite the suitor, catching his attention would benefit the entirety of House Haruno.”

Sakura curtsied to her skirt and dipped her head. “Yes, Mother.”

With that, her mother; standing so straight and so refined, turned impeccably on a heel and joined her husband for the upcoming waltz. Sakura gripped her fan in her gloved hand, her mask feeling itchy against her face, her dress too ornamental and heavy for her liking, even her jewelry felt especially weighted today.

The grand hall was alight with the glow of the many sconces, candelabras and the chandeliers sparkling above. Music and dancing filled the space, a breathtaking display of fashion, etiquette, and beauty. The Masquerade ball, hosted by the palace and second only to royal celebrations, from the lowest of barons to the highest of grand dukes; all were in attendance, and all hid their faces for the chance to play the pauper and the stag.

Dress unlike her usual colors, mask that hid her face, and being one of the lowly barons’ daughters herself, she hadn’t needed a disguise for anonymity, her name and standing alone ensured no one – save for those who knew of her unique hair color – would distinguish her. She’d been approached by a few young men, though unfortunately for them she had recognized them despite their attire and had navigated her way out of a dance with them all thus far. Her mother had noticed, however, and she found her chances of avoiding the unwanted attention better on the terrace.

With a shawl wrapped over her arms and the heels of her shoes quietly clacking as she exited the hall, she climbed the grand staircase to the second floor where she hoped a balcony could be left empty for her. A guard stood near the terrace doors, and as she passed through into the evening air, the soldier didn’t even turn to glance at her. The door shut behind her, the sounds of the orchestra and the dancing sounded so far away now, only the starry sky and glowing moon were witness to her retreat. The gentle evening breeze of summer enveloped her as she leaned on the stone railings overlooking the central garden below, she had begun to wonder if he was even going to show –

“They’re relentless, aren’t they?”

Sakura gasped, spinning around spying a man stood near the door. He was a tall man, broad shoulders, crimson robes draped over his shoulders and belted at the hips with the ornaments of his nation. Even though that lavish and extravagantly embroidered fabric draped over his head and obscured his features, he hadn’t gotten memo of deception. Anyone to glimpse the exposed skin of his chest through his robes or see the adornments strung about his attire would have known of his name.

Her heart sprung to life within her chest, like a songbird with visions of freedom just beyond the bars of its cage, and she went to him. “Gaara!” she breathed as she leaned into him and he slipped his arms around her; strong, warm, and he always squeezed her more than the bachelor lords had ever dared to.

He lifted his arm and drew her to his side, the robe he wore inviting her into the warmth that always kept close to him. She shivered, in part because the air always felt colder when he was near, as if the sun of his homeland had followed him to this kingdom, and in part because of how the unabashed nakedness of his skin – no matter how modest – set her flesh alight.

“I loathe to have kept you waiting,” he said, ducking his head to whisper at her ear. She shivered at his breath along her neck.

“Did your session with the King go accordingly?” she asked, a life and an excitement breathing into her each time his deep blue eyes locked with her own.

Gaara nodded, admiring the beauty hugged against him, and he couldn’t help but tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, then continue to tickle her neck to deepen that color on her cheeks. “Exceedingly so,” he boasted, always proud of his achievements through his skills in diplomacy. “My siblings and I will bring news of enriched trade and commerce to the Sultan upon our return. The end of this conflict will belong in your history books,” he teased.

“Your father will be pleased with you?” she asked, her own eyes searching his for the signs of truth behind his response.

“Yes,” he agreed, smiling at the way her face lit up at telling of his victories. “And he will likely offer me reward,” he continued, his gaze traveling down her figure to the attire that had been weighing her down all evening.

He could never wrap his head around their peculiar customs of dress in this land, the women especially. Hoop skirts and corsets, stays and petticoats, all they did for him was cover up the beauty of feminine form, one that his people were wont to praise and admire. Though, he had caught on to certain customs, and he could not be caught unaware of the one currently employed by the flame of his heart.

The colors he often wore were too dark for a complexion such as hers, she was a fair woman, with pale skin and light hair, though he noticed some familiar accents on her gown this evening. When he had spied her in the ballroom, ascending the stairs to the terrace as if beckoning him to follow, the burgundy color of her eye mask and the accessories of the same hue called out to him across the crowded ballroom. “Who are you matching this evening?” he asked, his hand at her waist slipping up her boddice and enticing a blush on her cheeks. “I haven’t seen any men wearing this color.”

Sakura peered up at him before the intensity of his gaze caused her to look away. She brought her fan up to her lips, tapping it against her chin. “Have you seen a mirror?”

He didn’t answer, though something about the way that he held himself shifted slightly, and soon the hand at her waist was guiding her to turn toward the door again. “Come,” he invited her. “I wish to dance with you.”

Sakura nodded, quieting her heart and stealing her will; she had expected this, she was counting on it even, and it was precisely why she had attempted to match his color. Perhaps a dance with him would give tell of their romance, maybe her suitors would take that smart step back she’d been begging of them, or finally be able to kiss him and not be obscured by shadows to do so.

They entered the ballroom and descended the stairs, a few masks tilted their way, curious as to why they matched though she knew no one questioned their identity.

“Do you see my sister?” he asked when he leaned down. Sakura scanned the floor below, finding the familiar blonde surrounded by the usual number of men that followed her. She nodded. “What do you think of her attire?”

“She is stunning as always,” Sakura replied with a smile, though she had sung the praises of his sister’s style to him before. “Even among the nobles attending, her visage and apparel are radiant beyond compare.”

Gaara smiled, the draping of his robes obscuring his face as he and his family had forgone the traditions of masks in leu of what their own wardrobe contained. On the dance floor, Sakura took her place in his arms, her eyes shining up at him though he wished that embellished mask hadn’t obscured her feature from him.

“When I return home,” he began as they started their dance; her hand in his, his palm molded to her hip. “I will have secured a name for myself outside of the throne’s succession.”

Sakura nodded, her heart fluttering. He had come here for that very reason; to be an ambassador for his father, to show his support to his sister as the heir to their family throne, and to ensure that he had no need for such a seat in order to make himself known and respected. She had been awed by his willpower and conviction, he’d been so bright and well spoken; the moment she met him was the moment that all other suitors fell short and were found lacking. She didn’t want to think of what would become of her after his return, this illation and happiness she had found was nothing more than a dream she would ultimately wake from, and when she did; he would be gone.

She smiled as she looked down, bittersweet and hoping the mask would catch any tears to fall. They had never been meant for one another, they came from different worlds, and even though she had tried insisting on the very same from beginning, she had fallen so deeply for him, for the way that he admired her in all that she was, and all that she wished to become.

“I hope your journey is a safe one,” she said, unable to lift her gaze, certain that her eyes would betray her.

Gaara twirled her around, basking in the jealous looks and sidelong glances from the men she’d spurned in favor of him, and bent down to speak softly in her ear, rasping his voice in the way he knew would excite her. “I always thought you would be beautiful in Sunesion robes.” Just as he had hoped; goosebumps.

“You have?” she managed to say, her voice almost lost among the sweeping crescendos of the orchestra.

“The vision of you in such a way has a habit of keeping me awake,” he admitted, enjoying the way her features flushed when he wooed her.

He hadn’t known if she had fallen for his appearance or his eccentricity, for his mannerisms or his foreign alure as a man that had journey across the kingdoms from the far away sands and mystifying dunes. He did know, however, that he was not above using any of these qualities to his advantage when vying for the heart of his conquest. He could be bold if she needed, he could romance her if she preferred, he could lay waste to her suitors in combat as were his own customs; it didn’t matter, so long as she continued to choose him.

“I will send for you,” he spoke quietly to her, the vibrancy of her green eyes shining at him from behind her mask as she caught his gaze. “Deeds, dowry, land,” he listed, admiring the way she hung off his every word. “Your family can have it all, so long as they give me you.”

She couldn’t speak at first, her lips parted in stunned disbelief, and he mused that if she didn’t use them momentarily, he gladly would. Soon her brows pulled together beneath her mask, her shock burning away to hesitation. “You jest,” she accused, resisting the urge to turn from him. She needed to see his eyes as he answered, he could lie to anyone else with that iron stare, but he’d never done so to her.

“Only if this be your refusal,” he countered, his heart skipping a beat as he offered her escape from this dalliance they’d fallen into together. He’d chase after her if she ran, and he’d fight for her, if need be, but he had hoped that she would welcome his proposal. “Though, if it isn’t,” he said, his fingers plucking the pins affixing her mask in place. He removed it from her face, allowing him to drink in her beauty as the drapery of his robes slipped down his shoulder as he did so, and she took in the fullness of his features as if the rest of the world had fallen away. “I’d be tempted to steal you away.”

“Must you send for me?” she asked, her pulse thrumming in her veins, her thoughts now filled with visions of a foreign land and a man to love her there. Her hand rested on his shoulder gripped the fabric of his robes, scanning his face and succumbing to the softness of his gaze. “Can you not take me?”

Gaara smiled and shook his head. “Let me build a place for you,” he urged her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and she frowned. “I want to do this right.”

The song was coming to an end, their dance concluding, and even as the music began to fade and their steps slowed, Sakura could hear nothing but his professions, could see nothing but the truth in his eyes, and could feel nothing but the desire for more of him.

“What of my suitors?” she challenged.

Admiring the way her expression reflected the racing thought within her mind, Gaara closed their dance amidst the pairs of couples swaying to the subsiding tune. He could feel the eyes on them as their dance ended, gazes hidden behind a sea of ambiguity, and he knew precisely how to thwart the abundance of admirers vying for her hand. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Kiss me,” he said. “Be mine.”

Sakura leaned in, pressing herself against him and encircling her arms around his neck when he bent down to her. She nodded; she’d been his since the day she met him, had fallen for him more deeply with each time they spoke, and henceforth she wouldn’t hide her love for him. “Yes,” she agreed, eyes fluttering closed as their lips met during the crowded masquerade ball, their faces bared and their intentions known.

Forever.

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #sakura haruno #gaara #gaaraxsakura #naruto au #sakugaa #period au #masquerade ball #lovers

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest Day17

Prompt: Marriage/Honeymoon/Anniversary

The years used to feel so much longer, the seasons used to drag on forever, and the blending of one day into another – especially for Gaara – had always been dreadfully long. But this last year had been different; he found himself caught up in a whirlwind of mounting memories that played back the happiest year of his life.

Truly, it had started when he’d finally worked up the backbone to ask her to marry him. Beyond nervous, even though he wouldn’t have asked if he hadn’t been sure of what her answer would be, he couldn’t shake the anxiety of her potential refusal. He’d faced countless foes, overcome many adversities, and could even stare death in the face like an old friend, but the few seconds of shocked silence that passed before she gave her answer had felt like an unbearable eternity.

When she had said yes, something switched on inside of him, something that had been powerful and intoxicating, and he continued to pursue it endlessly. Suddenly, the future seemed brighter, brimming with possibilities. It was a novel feeling to have been wanted, adored, and chosen by the woman he held most dear. Her interest in him, a quiet yet intense one, had been an unexpected surprise and he had quickly responded with advances of his own. She was a very desirable woman, and there were others that circled her vying for attention.

There wasn’t any uncertainty as to why he’d been taken with her; she was an infantilely capable individual with a sharp wit and scholarly levels of knowledge. She was exceedingly intelligent, in fact, and she’d wasted no time boasting her grades and test scores from her days in the academy. He’d thought it impressive and amusing that she had been so smart as to no understand that the first round of the exams they had taken together had been geared toward information gathering since the questions were considered too hard to answer. She had simply shrugged and said they should have made them harder; she was confident she got them all right.

Her mind alone had made her a fetching candidate for the partner of a Kage, but Gaara had fallen for her beauty as well. He loved the ease at which she would rest against him, how she welcomed his hand in her own, and how he could never grow tired of admiring her in any manner she blessed him with. To him, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, especially when he saw her on their wedding day.

Glowing in the sun, silhouetted against the backdrop of his desert, she had stood before him dressed in the robes of his people. She was draped in the finest fabrics, a pale cream with goldthread embroidery handsewn with care, the draping that covered her gently catching the breeze. She’d worn gold bangles and earrings, heirlooms of his family, shimmering in the sunlight and bewitching the eyes of those gathered at their intimate ceremony. He had always thought that she would wear the styles of the wind nation well, and indeed she had looked as though she were always meant to be one of his own.

When they had traveled for their honeymoon, having gone south and stayed near the ocean, it was the first time Gaara had known extended leisure of any sort. He’d been on the move his whole life, always looking to the next mission, the next assignment, and suddenly he’d had nothing but time on his hands and a lovely new wife to fill it with. For the first day of their stay, she hadn’t received any reluctance in convincing him to waste it away with her in bed, and they’d been entangled together in one way or another from dawn till dusk. Being the man that he was, though, they couldn’t afford to be away from the city for too long, and the remaining week of their honeymoon had been spent sightseeing and visiting the ocean, his wife taking complete advantage of him as her own personal transportation and she never heard a complaint from him. She loved basking in the sun and he loved watching her tan lines get deeper each night he undressed her; though his greatest pleasure was seeing her happy and knowing that it had in part come from him.

Too soon, the day came to return to their new lives back home, and when she took up her new job and he resumed his work, he reminisced on their time spent by the seaside when he missed her, and it got him through the long afternoons and late evening before he could return to the home they shared.

The following year was a flurry of political headaches; always eased by they way she would hold him and stroke her fingers through his hair, difficult battles; though he always had faith she could manage herself no matter how much he still worried, and the satisfaction that came with seeing how his people had welcomed her and came to adore her, knowing that she hadn’t just been the right choice for him, but for his city as well. Their marriage had brought unity between two great powers of the world, set the precedence for growth and prosperity, and she had inadvertently breathed new color and life into the land with the open sharing of knowledge, culture, and commerce.

The true extent of the change she had brought with her; to the city, to his life, to himself, was imperceivable. She had permeated every aspect of his existence and stained it with the color of her. His aspirations were nothing without her at his side, he fantasized of a lineage resembling her strength and her likeness, and the longer that he admired her perspective and her insight, the more reasons he had to fall for her all over again.

“My love,” he said, drawing her close to him and breathing in scent of her. It was a scent that filled his waking life and his dreams, it followed him everywhere, and he prayed that it never stopped. “What would you like this year?”

With his head nuzzled against her chest and body slouched over hers as she twirled a lock of his hair around her finger, Sakura hummed as her husband lay embracing her on their couch. “What do you mean?”

He leaned up a little, pulling down the collar of her tank top to rest his cheek against her skin. He secured his arms around her, perfectly fit to her waist and loving the weight of her. “Our anniversary is coming up.”

Sakura smiled and proceeded to scratch her nails along his scalp. He took a deep breath and groaned in delight. “You remembered,” she said, her voice quiet; she sounded happy.

“I’ve been counting the days,” he promised her. “Would you to like to travel?” he suggested. “Or we could take some time off and stay here.” She simply observed him with that gentle gaze as he seemed to ponder something. “Maybe I’ll assign you an assistant, that would help your free time all year.”

Sakura slid her arms around him. “My free time means nothing when you’re cooped up in that office.” Gaara didn’t say anything against that, though he squeezed her waist when she leaned in to kiss him. “You might as well get yourself a few more.”

“Tempting,” he muttered.

Sakura pressed her lips against his hair, enjoying the weight of him settled between her legs as they lounged on the couch. “I love you,” she said, knowing he adored it when she said it first.

“I love you, too,” he replied; instinctual and effortlessly evoked whenever he heard her speak those words. It had been ever since the first time she had confessed it to him, and would continue to be so, year and year, for the rest of his days.

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #sakura haruno #gaara #gaaraxsakura #sakugaa

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest Day 16

Prompt: Kazekage

(Day 8, continued)

Key in hand, Sakura walked the outer balcony to the door of her apartment. Most of the visiting genin were being housed on this block, and her team for the exams was currently living in a two bedroom on the fourth floor. The breeze was nice up here, the view was too, but Sakura barely noticed any of it as she passed quickly by. Her mind was racing, her heart had only just begun to settle as she ascended the outside steps, and she was sure she had looked flustered as she walked through the streets to get here. She just couldn’t believe what had happened, what she had done, what he had done.

Unlocking the door and letting herself in, Ino and Choji were sitting in the living room, they were both staring at her as soon as she stepped inside.

Ino had a magazine on her lap that she flicked closed and tossed on the table in front of her before crossing her arms and demanding, “Girl, what the actual hell was that?”

It was harder to hide things from Ino, she had known her for so long, and Sakura instantly went red in the face. She didn’t really know what to say; she wasn’t the best at lying. Her old friend just gawked at her and Choji sighed, having seen all he needed to.

“Well,” Ino spoke again, now more like she was scolding her. “How did it go?”

Sakura laughed a little nervously and tiptoed her way through the living room. “Oh, I lost,” she admitted with a shrug. They didn’t seem surprised. “But it was good. I’m,” she looked down the hall. “I’m going to use the bathroom. Wash up.”

Watching her leave, Ino scoffed and crossed her arms, looking over at Choji and complaining, “She’s not even toing to tell me about it?” He just shrugged.

Having shut the door behind her, Sakura ran the faucet with cold water and stared at her reflection in thought. She looked the same, but she felt like a completely different person. Just who was that that had asked the Kazekage for a spar in front of everyone? It hadn’t been a version of herself that she recognized. Yes, they had some casual conversations on their journey through the desert and, yes, they had run into each other once or twice after he watched the sunrise with her, but what had it been that tempted her to such forwardness?

She had been a bit taken with how he looked when he no longer carried his field gear and wasn’t covered in an old cloak. There was something about the way he stood before a gathered group, addressing them as the leader he was, able seen the result of how far he’d come and the work he’d put in. It had moved something within her. It told her if she asked, he would answer, if she offered, he might accept; and he had.

He kept giving her those side glances, and he’d been watching her more closely when Shikamaru spoke to the group. It was impossible not to feel his eyes on her; his gaze was a heavy one. Then he’d approached her and accepted her challenge without waiting another moment, and he’d been smirking at her, too, making her blush and get her thoughts all out of sorts right before they started.

Sakura, not really knowing what to expect, hadn’t anticipated their fight to feel so thrilling, so freeing. She had better control now, more strength to throw around, and her opponent was sturdy enough so that she hadn’t needed to hold back. His sand could harden to the rigidity of stone, his shield could absorb her blows and deflect their power, and it had felt liberating to be caught up in the swift pace and relentless pursuit. Plus, she’d coaxed that look of surprise out of him, seen how his shock had crossed over his face when she was closing in. She had been bold, very bold. Looking back, she had been putting on quit the posturing and had things had certainly been…tense.

Gaara, however, had taken the gold in boldness when he had leaned down and kissed her.

Sakura cupped her hands under the running faucet and splashed some cold water on her face, her cheeks still burning, remembering how she had kissed him back.

She had been shocked then, but eager as well. She had returned his embrace, pressing herself against him and relishing in the way he slid his hands down her waist, grabbing her, keeping her close. Where had that passion come from? she pondered as she glanced back at herself in the mirror and touched a finger to her lips. It was like a dam of backfilled need had burst the moment he’d kissed her. He was fevered, she’d been caught up in the intensity of it, he’d slipped his tongue along her lip, and she drew his between her teeth in return. Their fight forgotten, the heat of the sun replaced with the heat of his touch, and the outside world falling away as she melted into him, Sakura had gasped when he suddenly pulled away.

“Shit,” he hissed; hands still holding her close to him, his body firm against hers as her mind caught up with her.

Gaara had noticed a crossover at the threshold of his perception and he had instantly remembered that he had a meeting to get to. He’d been late as it was, and the council had likely sent a messenger to fetch him. He couldn’t allow himself to be seen tangled up with Sakura like this, he could only imagine what people would assume.

He drew away from her then, the space left between them feeling like a void that he wished he could fill again. “I’m sorry,” he said, observing the dazed look on her face. “I’m late, I have to go.”

Sakura nodded; she remembered him saying he was a busy man. “Okay,” she agreed.

Gaara paused, studying her proximity and his feelings about it. Then, he bent down, forehead meeting hers, holding the nape of her neck in his hand. Sakura’s eyes fluttered closed, she thought he was going to kiss her again, but instead she simply heard him say, “You were incredible.”

Her heart skipped in her chest, and then all at once he was gone. His body had vanished, the presence of him was gone, and nothing but a fine trail of sand slithering along the ground gave any trace of him. She stood there in the training field; bewildered, excited, a little stunned at what her actions had gotten her, and then a young man had turned the corner around a store house and waved her down.

“Hello!” he called out to her. She raised a hand back. “Have you seen Lord Kazekage around here?”

She thought for a moment, and eventually responded with a flat No.

It had been a walk to remember on the way back to her apartment, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, and here she was; stood in her bathroom with cold water splashed on her face, staring at herself in the mirror thinking Really? It just had to be him?

She groaned and couldn’t help but laugh at herself a little, shaking her head. Just what had she been thinking? He was the Kazekage.

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #sakura haruno #gaara #gaaraxsakura #sakugaa

[laceyjane44]

another recent zine piece for desert bloom: a botanical gaara zine!! i had to give some love to the original anime boyfriend

[laceyjane44]

Another Example for a YCH of Gaara and Sakura. ^-^

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest Day15

Prompt: One Night Stand

(Day 14, continued)

Staring ahead to the wall beside her, Sakura dared not move a muscle.

The bed was warm, her pillows fluffed, and the room had been tidy and smelled clean. She had slept like a rock, hadn’t set an alarm to wake herself up, and when her eyes finally opened to the bands of morning sunlight coming in through the blinds, reality came crashing down on her.

The wall was not painted the color of her bedroom, the sheets were not the same thread count – but better, and the comforter laid over her was not hers alone; she had company.

She hadn’t needed to turn around to know who shared this bed with her, after all, she had spent the whole evening with him, and the night as well. She took a quiet breath and slowly exhaled, thinking over how she was going to handle this situation.

The night before had been a pleasant surprise, she’d never been so boldly approached while also being treated with such care. Gaara was a confident man but hadn’t been an arrogant one, he was a natural flirt it seemed, but he would do away with it the moment he felt it wasn’t received; his company and been an easy and pleasant one.

Are you really gonna walk out on our first date like that?

Sakura could feel herself blush.

She should have read the signs before going out to eat with him, but…maybe if she had she would’ve refused. He was undeniably attractive, though he hadn’t immediately been her type, and as the night had worn on his attention became easier to accept. Leaving the restaurant, he had escorted her the short walk to the local cocktail bar and held the door for her like a gentleman. The bar was a little fancier than the restaurant, and they were given a small booth and a waiter to bring their drinks.

His demeanor had certainly changed after his comment about their date. Once she had accepted it and agreed to continue their night, he began placing his hand on the small of her back or tapping her feet with his own under the table. He’d already shown he wasn’t shy about sharing a straw with her and had offered to share their cocktails as well so that she could try some different ones. Fruity, refreshing, spiced and sweet; they had been delicious, and she sipped slowly, finding that she wanted their date to last just a little longer.

When the drinks were finished, though, she asked if his car was back at the movies. No, Gaara had said, it’s at my sister’s. After successfully monopolizing her time, he had admitted that he’d come to the movies with his siblings, and they had consequently left without him. Sakura had laughed, though she felt a little excited at the fact that he had sought her out in that opportune moment. Offering him a ride back to his place, he accepted and showed her the way.

At his house, her heart was suddenly racing, her blood was pumping through her veins, and she was still contemplating with her next move. Well, this is me, he had said as he pulled on the door handle. Sakura had shut her car off and suddenly asked, Can I come in and use your bathroom? Of course, he hadn’t refused, and of course he’d offered her a glass of water once they were inside, he even took her jacket.

Gaara lived alone, she soon noticed, and she was surprised to see that he owned a house, though she could tell he didn’t have an eye for decorating. Everything was clean, however, it appeared that he liked keeping things tidy and it had the added benefit of making her feel more comfortable. She used his bathroom, took an extra minute to stare at herself in the bathroom mirror; cheeks a little flushed, face looking halfway determined and halfway ready to run.

But running wasn’t an option, not tonight, and she pointed at her reflection, looking deep into her own eyes before returning to Gaara, and muttered, don’t be a wuss.

Her adrenaline had kicked in and her mind was racing so much that she couldn’t really recall exactly how they had made it into his bedroom, but she vividly remembered being pressed into the bed by the weight of his body and how satisfying it felt to be held in intimacy again. Theirs had been a slow and passionate night. Once her clothes started dropping to the floor, she couldn’t remember a second when his hands weren’t on her, when his breath wasn’t ghosting across her skin. There had been a moment or two that she felt awkward and embarrassed, but Gaara didn’t dwell on them, and it made it easier for her not to as well.

Maybe all the excitement and mix of emotions from throughout the day had caught up with her, or maybe she was just that tired, but after the end of their entanglement he had gathered her in his arms and, at some point, she’d fallen asleep there. Fingertips sliding along her skin, stroking her hair, the steady rhythm of his heart as she laid her head on his chest; they had lulled her to sleep in that soft, warm, and inviting bed that had unexpectedly found her.

The light of day could be a harsh one, though, and now her heart was racing for all different reasons.

Without trying to make too much of a disturbance, she reached out to the bedside stand where her phone was sitting and turned on the screen. It was 8:32am, she had a good-morning text from her mom and her friend sent her a chain of meme’s sometime during the early hours of the morning, and the rest of her notifications made her heart drop.

11:43pm

????

12:32am

Look Im sorry.

Awkward, considering that Gaara was dick deep in her by that point.

 1:07am

You just gonna ignore me?

She shouldn’t, it really wasn’t like her, but after a minute of contemplation she unlocked her phone and opened her text thread with him. Her fingers shook a little as she typed, perhaps nervous, likely just mad, and she pressed send.

Something came up.

She slowly exhaled and shut off her phone, she didn’t want to know if he answered or not.

But now…what to do about her current predicament? Sakura quietly leaned up in the bed, glancing at the floor and taking inventory of where her clothes had ended up. She saw her jeans by the door, her sweatshirt had been lost somewhere close by, and her bra was somewhere at the foot of the bed, she was sure. If she were quick enough, she might be able to snag everything and make a hasty exit.

Carefully, she lifted up the comforter and slid her legs out the side of the bed. The box-spring creaked a little as she lifted her weight off the mattress and she welcomed the carpeted floor under her bare feet. She picked up her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head, her tank top had still been tangled with it and she rolled it up along with her bra from the floor. She bent down to pick up her jeans, the sound of the comforter shifting gave her pause, and when she rose again with her pants clutched in her hands, Gaara was sitting up in bed; hair a mess, skin painted in the bands of light from window, and watching her with those intense azure eyes.

He smirked at her, amused. “Good morning,” he said, his voice smooth and even, hadn’t he just woken up?

“Morning,” Sakura said, a shy smile on her face. She was glad she’d found her sweatshirt; it was long enough to cover her…well, bits. “Sleep well?” she asked, thinking the question awkward seeing as it wasn’t her house.

He chuckled at her, leaning back against the wall behind his bed. “I do live here.”

She smiled, it was an embarrassed one, and she looked at the floor. “Right,” she said, feeling a little silly but surprisingly not as nervous as she thought she would be. So, she continued, “Thanks for last night, it was fun.”

Gaara grinned, his eyes looking over the bare skin of her legs with his lip pulled between his teeth. “You’re very welcome.”

She looked down and to the side again, her heart fluttering. He’d made that face at her last night, too. “Anyway,” she said as she unrolled her jeans and pulled them up over her legs. Gaara watched as she did and pouted a little once she’d dressed herself. “I should probably get going.” His expression changed again, and he looked crestfallen this time. “Where’s my jacket?”

“It’s in the coat closet by the front door,” he answered as he got out of bed. He was naked, just as she had been, and Sakura quickly looked away though she internally questioned why; she’d quite literally gotten acquainted with him in the early hours of that very morning. Gaara pulled on a pair of sweatpants and picked up her underwear from the other nightstand. He approached her and handed out her undergarment. “Though, I didn’t take you for the hit-it-and-quit-it type.”

“Oh, um,” Sakura flushed red in the face and she floundered for her next words. “Well, I…I wasn’t expecting to–”

“You think I went to the movies expecting to?” he teased. Sakura grabbed her underwear and quickly folded them discreetly into her tank top. Her hair was still a mess, Gaara liked that, she was flustered and kneading her bundle of clothes in her hands, he thought it was cute. “If you’d rather expect it next time, then you can give me your number and I’ll ask you out again.”

It was her turn to bite her lip, and Gaara’s turn to get excited over it. “You…want to do this again?” she asked, looking at him now and studying his face. She’d thought this just a fling, maybe just a one-night stand, she hadn’t wanted to assume and look desperate, but…had he thought differently?

Gaara shrugged, that same casual demeanor from the day before, though this time he reached a hand out to her hip and drew his arms around her waist. “The movie, the dinner, the drinks.” He leaned in and pressed his temple to hers, taking a deep breath and continuing with a relaxed and raspy sigh, “Or whatever else you want, just say the word.”

Sakura allowed herself to stand there in his arms, feeling desired and…well, here she was; with attention and care, with consideration and a clear message of wanting. She hadn’t thought about what the morning would bring, it had been so far away the night before, but it brought her someone that adapted to fit her into his evening and she hadn’t needed to compete for, someone who had – inadvertently – caused her to realize that she had been underappreciated.

She leaned into him a little, resting her head against his shoulder and contemplating the feel of it. “Okay.”

Gaara had helped her gather her things; her coat from the closet, her shoes from the hall, her keys from where they’d been left on the counter, and offered her something to eat before she left, though she had refused. She said she had plans for later that day and he wouldn’t question it, though he did make sure to send her a text the moment she gave him her number. When he met her at the door, she stood there a little awkwardly in the face of their goodbye. Gaara, however, was bold enough to ask for another kiss.

She ducked her head to hide her impulsive smile, and when she felt she wouldn’t betray a cool demeanor, she met him halfway. Arms around his neck, slouched against him and enjoying the way his arms wrapped around her waist and how his hand squeezed her hip. Sakura left after that, a smile on her lips and a weightlessness in her chest that she hadn’t felt for a long time. There was no telling what would come of this; it had been exceedingly unanticipated, but she was excited to find out.

Inside his home, Gaara let out steady and controlled breath.

It had been difficult to keep his cool all evening, especially when she had asked to come inside after dropping him off. He hadn’t expected that, and his heart had nearly flipped in his throat when she shut her car off and walked in with him. He offered to take her jacket; again, surprised that she took it off and gave it to him, and he distinctly remembered thinking, you staying a while?

Where’s the bathroom?

Down the hall.

He even got her some water, and when she returned it had been about five minutes before she had responded to a casual graze of the hand by pulling him into a kiss and he’d been simply lost in her after that. When she allowed herself to be held against him after their impassioned exchange, he made sure that she was comfortable, that with every stroke of his fingers against her skin she became more relaxed and he felt a peculiar satisfaction in knowing she’d fallen asleep there in his arms. Even though his insomnia often kept him awake, eventually he fell asleep, too, and upon waking every so often he would find her there and reach out to her.

He was sure that in some way there was another guy, and he didn’t know who he was, but he didn’t care; he was certain he could do better, and that he likely already had.

Gaara went back to his bedroom and grabbed his phone. His brother had texted him asking about the girl he left with, his sister had called him an asshole, and he dialed up her number. It rang a few times and when she answered with a loving, what do you want? he greeted back, “Hey, I need you to bring me my car.”

“Fuck off,” she said, as if she’d been waiting all morning to do so, and he had a good-natured smile on his face when he looked at the screen of her dropped call.

“I suppose I deserve that.”

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #sakura haruno #gaara #gaaraxsakura #sakugaa #naruto au

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FandFest Day14

Prompt: First Date

Something came up, maybe next time.

Dejection was a familiar feeling, especially with her sort-of-but-not-really boyfriend: Sasuke. He seemed to make a pastime of only doing things on his schedule and dropped plans at the last second like they were going out of style. They hadn’t been official or anything, making it hard for her to confront him about his flakiness, but she had hoped that her invite to the movies might’ve given them a chance to see if this was going anywhere.

“I guess not...” she mumbled to herself as she slid further down the movie theater chair.

Sakura had arrived at the movie theater thirty-five minutes before the start of the film – at his request – gotten the biggest bucket of popcorn they had, a fizzy something to quench her thirst, and had saved the best two spots in the theater for herself and her…well, date. She’d been waiting for a text from him, or to see him file in with the rest of the crowd, but got stood up instead.

“Could’ve let me know before I paid,” she huffed to herself, a fistful of buttery popcorn shoved into her mouth before she mumbled around her food, “Whatever.”

She settled into her seat, the rows slowly filling in around her, and resigned to watch the movie alone.

…

He had thought that he recognized her.

Walking in with his siblings, Gaara had noticed a woman in the middle of the theater; hood of her sweatshirt pulled over her head and sunk down into her seat like she was trying to become one with it. Bucket too big for just one person, jacket thrown over the seat next to her, and a distinct fray of pink hair peeking out from the edges of her hood, Gaara immediately recognized her as a good friend of his colleague and the cutie that had been at his buddy’s birthday celebration the month before.

With his brother and sister climbing the steps to their usual spot at the back of the theater, Gaara stepped into the middle rows and walked up to Sakura. Temari and Kankuro were confused but went to their seats before someone else took them.

“Hey stranger,” he greeted mildly, grinning at her a little when she looked up at him.

She looked hesitant at first, but then she appeared to recognize him, and she smiled back. “Oh, hey,” she said as she sat up in her seat and pulled down her hood. Her hair was a mess under it and she tried smoothing it out. “Gaara, right?”

“The one and only,” he said in jest, earning a little snicker from her. “How’ve you been, Sakura?” he asked, wanting her to know that he hadn’t forgotten her name. “It’s been while.”

She shrugged, a polite smile still held on her face, and her eyes flickered over to the jacket in the empty seat at her side. “It’s been good, you?”

Gaara nodded. “Been good,” he said before pointing over to the very same seat. More people were starting to file in around them now and seats were quickly filling. “That one taken?”

“Uh…” Sakura said as she studied the jacket, her hand gripped around her cellphone and thoughts passing clearly behind her eyes. “No,” she eventually settled on before repeating herself with a little more certainty. “No, it’s not. Care to sit?” She began to gather her jacket in her arms and pulled her knees in so that he could get around her and sit on her other side.

“Thanks,” he said as he removed his own jacket and took his seat. He grabbed a handful of popcorn from her and made himself comfortable. “You usually watch movies alone?” he asked. He knew the answer, she had been saving a seat for someone and he’d expected to be told that it was taken, but when she gave it to him without protest, he figured someone must’ve cancelled.

She looked down at the bowl of popcorn and pursed her lips. “No,” she admitted quietly, but didn’t want to say that she’d been ditched by the same guy for the third time since trying to date him. “I just felt like it.”

Bullshit, Gaara thought, but he wasn’t going to complain. “You must be really big horror fan,” he pondered.

Suppressing her grimace, she nodded with a forced smile. She had only suggested this movie because she knew how much Sasuke liked them, she wasn’t really a fan herself. If she hadn’t already purchased her ticket and overpriced food, she would have left the moment her plans fell through. “Love it.”

From the back of the theater, Temari and Kankuro had found their seats and watched as Gaara chatted up the young woman below them, then she moved her jacket, then he sat down. “Who the fuck is that?” Kankuro asked, dumbfounded, and Temari shook her head and pulled out her phone.

We watchin this or nah?

From his jeans pocket, Gaara’s phone chimed and they saw him pull it out to look. He opened his texts, paused a second, then typed something before he put it back in his pocket.

“I think he responded,” Kankuro said, and looked over to his sister’s phone when the reply came though.

Fuck off.

Temari scoffed and Kankuro snickered, “What a dick.”

While they waited for the movie to start, the two of them tried their best with the movie trivia scrolling over the screen, Gaara made a couple jokes – terrible ones – and helped Sakura to laugh a little again and relax. When the lights dimmed, Sakura sunk into her seat as the resonating surround sound of the title screen filled the room; the movie was starting.

She should’ve just left. Sasuke was supposed to sit next to her, maybe even offer some comfort during a difficult scene or hold her hand when he saw her get frightened. Now she just anticipated making an embarrassment of herself.

Not just a horror movie, but a thriller as well, Sakura spent most of the two-hour run time with her hood pulled up around her ears to muffle the sounds and had squinted her eyes as to avoid the scariest parts. She didn’t outright want to cover them in front of Gaara, how silly would that be? They shared the popcorn, Gaara mooched off her drink, he had a habit of putting his feet over in her space or bumping her elbow with his own. There was once during a quieter scene that she had whispered a question about the plot to him – no doubt due to her lack of actually watching the movie – and he’d leaned over to whisper back. The warmth of his skin so close to hers and his breath against her ear made sure she hadn’t heard a word of what he’d said. She nodded anyway, pulled on the drawstring of her hood, and stared straight ahead at the screen after that.

When the credits rolled and the theater lights came halfway back on, the people around them started to get up, the quiet space now echoing the murmurs of the everyone filing out. Sakura leaned forward, about to grab her jacket, but Gaara put a hand on her arm and halted her.

“Wait,” he said, still looking at the screen. “There’s usually an after-credit scene.”

She sat back down and waited for the credits to finish, taking sidelong glances at him from beside her.

She’d been surprised to see a familiar face approach her before the movie, and for a split second she had thought his greeting may have come from Sasuke. But she supposed it being Gaara was for the best, she was still upset and felt hurt over how she kept feeling strung along and, maybe, if it had been Sasuke, she would’ve said something choice that she might come to regret. In the dim light of the theater, though, after watching through the movie with him, Sakura came to notice that Gaara did have a certain appeal.

The credits ended and the scene began; an old truck slowly driving down a dirt road through the woods, it was dark, and the driver got out of the vehicle upon being stopped at a gate in the road. The headlights of the truck shown on a sign affixed to the gate; Private Property! Trespassers Beware! Sakura groaned quietly and looked away. From her side, Gaara tried not to laugh at her. The driver tugged on the chain that bound the gate to the post, and then, once the scene changed, all that could be heard over the forested mountains panning to the setting sun in the distance was the sudden and terrified scream of the driver before all went silent, and the screen went black.

“Tsk.” Sakura glanced over her to see Gaara looking disappointed and shaking his head. “Of course, they’re gonna milk this for a sequel,” he muttered before stretching his arms over his head and kicking his feet out in front of him.

Sakura twisted the end of her straw between her fingers, the soda long since gone and the ice already melted and drank. “Didn’t you like it?” she asked.

He looked over at her, head lolled to the side, his expression skeptical. “Did you?”

Sakura looked down, an embarrassed little smile threatening to show. “It was fine.” She grabbed her jacket and put the empty soda cup into the popcorn bucket, it was nearly gone anyway. “Thanks for sitting with me,” she said. “I’ll see you around?”

Gaara had stood with her and wrapped himself in his jacket. “Well, sure,” he said casually. “But I was going to ask if you wanted to grab something to eat.”

She pondered this for a moment and took out her phone. The time shown as 7:42pm, she’d missed a phone call from her mom during the movie, and no one else had texted her. Not even to say he was sorry for missing their date. Sakura felt her heart sink a little, could she even call it a date if he didn’t seem to want her? At least Gaara had sat with her so she wasn’t alone through the whole film, maybe having dinner together wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“Okay,” she said, having not noticed the way that Gaara discretely peered at her phone screen to see her notifications. “Where to?”

Gathering their jackets and their trash, Sakura led the way for them out of the theater. As she descended the stairs and he followed after her, Gaara turned around to where his sister and his brother were standing in the back of the theater watching him leave, the both of them with hands up in the air in question with it written all over their faces; dude, where are you going?

He sent a sneer their way and flicked them the bird, his sister rolled her eyes and Kankuro gave him an encouraging thumbs up.

Not wanting to be too forward, Gaara got in Sakura’s car with her and showed her a spot nearby that had something for everyone. It wasn’t a fancy place, but the atmosphere at night was quiet and the bar crowd wouldn’t show up until the kitchen closed. They opted to sit at the bar, too, it’s not like they were staying all night, and looked over the menu. Gaara had come here often with his siblings, they still did a lot of things together, and he told Sakura the items that his family liked best.

When their food came, they chatted about the movie and Gaara was asking how she liked the other movies in the franchise, if she had a preferred horror director or an old classic that was a favorite. Eventually, after a series of questions she simply couldn’t bullshit her way through, Sakura did end up admitting that no, she wasn’t really a fan of horror.

Not looking too surprised, and appearing to have been dying to ask, he followed up her admission with the question, “Who was supposed to sit there, anyway?”

“Oh, uh…” Sakura looked down to her plate and picked up a french-fry to swirl in her ketchup. Figuring she wasn’t good enough at lying to deny being stood up, she at least wasn’t going to admit it was by a guy. “No one.”

“No one, huh?” Gaara said as he leaned back on his barstool and observed the flustered blush that was settling across her face. “Well, I hope you tell No One that I had a good time sitting in his seat.”

Sakura sighed and forced a smile in fair defeat. She gripped her glass in her hands and sucked her teeth. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again.”

“Lucky me,” he said with a smirk, earning him a quizzical look from his dining guest. “I was starting to worry I’d have a jealous boyfriend after me.”

She scoffed and waved the notion away, and not long after, her plate was cleared, and her water was gone. Again, Sakura grabbed her jacket and moved to stand from the bar. “Well, I should probably get going,” she said before asking the bartender, “Can I close out my tab?”

He nodded and went to print her bill.

“It’s been a lot of fun,” she said turning back to Gaara. He was grabbing his jacket too, had motioned the bartender for his bill as well. “Thanks for the company.”

He threw his jacket on and pulled out his card when the bill came. “Together, please,” he said as he passed over his card. Sakura tried to refuse; he shouldn’t be paying for her. “Consider us even,” he said. “I did eat most of your popcorn, and that stuff isn’t cheap.”

Still a little unsure, she allowed the bartender to take her bill along with his card. “Thanks,” she said while he waited for the receipt. “I’ll see you later?”

Gaara nodded. “Anytime you want,” he offered, a sly smirk forming on his face as he scribbled his signature. But then he looked back over at her, his expression turned down a little, perhaps even pouting. “But are you really gonna just walk out of our first date like that?”

Sakura froze, mind going a little blank at what he had said. “Wha – what?”

Gaara took his card back from the bartender and put his wallet back in his pocket. He adjusted his jacket and pointed to the door. “Come on, I know a good place for cocktails a few blocks away.”

He began walking over to the exit, Sakura was still confused and didn’t know how to respond to him. “Wait,” she managed to say. “I don’t–”

“Do you not want to?” he asked, turning to face her and dropping the casual confidence he’d been directing at her all evening, his expression turning genuine in the face of her potential refusal.

Sakura pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. This was not how she expected the day to go, but she knew Gaara, albeit barely, they had common friends and had been introduced before. It’s not like she was going somewhere with a total stranger, plus…

She turned away from him, half to look through her purse, half to hide her blush. “Let me, um,” she stammered, finally finding her phone and turning on the display.

Sorry, reschedule for tomorrows showing?

With a moment’s pause, she stared at the text notification and weighed the feeling of excitement she’d just had against the sinking feeling in her chest from the text. One certainly struck a deeper chord than the other, yet one had given her the company when the other had not.

She turned around and looked back at Gaara. “Let me call my mom, she likes it when I check in.”

Seeming satisfied, Gaara smiled and threw a playful wink her way, enjoying the way she turned her face to hide the reddening of her cheeks. “Say hi to Mom for me.”

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #sakura haruno #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #gaara #gaaraxsakura #sakugaa #naruto au

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest Day13

Prompt: Inner Shukaku

(TW: Grief / Trauma)

The setting sun cast his shadow over the grave in front of him.

It was a familiar sight, his silhouette lingering over the headstone, and the quiet evening wind blew a fine dusting of sand over the resting place of an individual deeply missed by his people, and by himself. Wittingly or not, they had been entangled with one another from his birth into this world until her departure from it, and he found an unexpected hole left in the shape of her.

“Lady Chiyo,” Gaara greeted, head bowed in respect. He looked out to the east, to where the sun was displaying its vibrant majesty across a cloudless and endless sky. “It’s another beautiful one for you today,” he mused, having always enjoyed the view from her resting place, finding it fitting for such a beloved member of his people.

Crossing his legs, Gaara sat before the headstone as if sitting across from an old friend, though their conversations only ever went one way these days. He often came to visit her like this after his resurrection, there was nowhere else he thought he could turn. Having been thrust through such monumental change, he hadn’t felt like himself and he’d been going through the motions for days after his return. His only solace was when he could retreat to her graveside and sort through all the confusing thoughts he had, the unquestioning silence of her resting place becoming a close confidant for him.

“I hope you’re well,” he said, much as he always did. “That things are peaceful.” He looked to his hands in his lap and sighed. “It hasn’t gone away,” he said after a moment, his voice hushed even though he knew there was no one to hear him. “It’s almost been a year and I–” his throat tightened around his voice and he sighed. “I wish you were here; you might’ve known what to do.”

Softly, and with an echo that still haunted the quietest places of his mind, something chuckled at him. Within his head, outside of it, it didn’t matter; he heard it all the same, and he still wasn’t rid of it.

A chill ran through his body, a physical reaction he couldn’t stave off, he shuddered out a breath. He closed his eyes, breathing evenly and slowly. It’s not real, he told himself, it’s gone.

I am always here…

Yes, unfortunately, even after being ripped from the seal within him, after succumbing to death and returning to life, it remained, that demon; the Shukaku. It hadn’t been right away, but after he started to get his rhythm back, the nightmares began. He wasn’t used to sleep, and he’d begun confusing his nightmares with reality, forcing himself to forgo his rest until he simply could no longer. It had gotten better after a while, he’d learned how to wake himself from his nightmares and grew accustomed to the cold sweat and pounding heart he often awoke to alone at night, but even the daytime held no reprieve for him now.

“I know that it’s gone, but…” he spoke to the grave. “I don’t think I’ve let it go. And I don’t know how.” Silence responded, accompanied by the soft breeze wafting the arid scent of the desert over him.

Gaara spent a minute sitting in the stillness that these moments offered him, a place that he could go and no one would disturb him, no one would question him. At times, though, the silence was deafening.

“Sometimes I still wonder why you did it,” he admitted.

It had been a shock when he learned that the sand still protected him with the demon gone, he had always thought the sand only defended him as the vessel of the Shukaku. But it obeyed him and protected him just as it always had, and he wondered if the power had been his all along and that he’d been tricked into thinking it wasn’t his to control. Could Chiyo have known that he would still be able to protect their city and their people even as a jinchuriki no more? Was she trying to make up for the life that she and the council had given him?

“You didn’t have to…that life isn’t over just because I died.” The word still felt heavy on his tongue. “I am still haunted, and I feel so stuck.”

Do it…

He’d told her before, in the other times he’d visited to talk with her, that he had come to hear of her battle with Sasori, seen the remains that had been retrieved of his puppets and what they later learned was actually him. Everyone to be involved in the mission to bring him back home had learned of how their ally from the leaf had fought side by side with her and together they had achieved victory. Theirs must have been a thrilling battle to witness.

Gaara had been awestruck when Sakura recapped the details of their fight before leaving his city with her team back home, an acute respect for the dead in every word she spoke about the fallen Lady. He was certain that Kankuro would be envious of such glory till the day he died, and she had quickly gained prestige within the puppet guilds. That wasn’t the last time he’d seen her, and when she would return to his city or she would assist in hosting himself and other visiting diplomats within her own, he continually found himself increasingly drawn to, impressed by, and enamored with her.

He had fallen for Sakura; hopelessly, and the gravestone was the first and only confidant he had confessed his sorry situation to. “I want to,” he began, an admission he’d told her times before. “But…”

He looked down to his hands, the golden light of the setting sun casting a beautiful glow over the blood and shredded flesh that covered them. He smoothed his palms together, the blood smearing even though his skin felt dry, and he sighed. Rubbing his face and pinching his nose, he took a deep breath and when he looked back down, the blood was gone and his hands were clean.

“It won’t stop.”

Plagued with the voices of his past – demons of his own now – and the hallucinations that haunted him, Gaara still felt trapped with the beast, possessed and living with the illusion of control. Without warning his hands would smear blood on whatever he touched, his food would turn to refuse on the plate before him, a glance by a passing mirror would reflect him drenched in death.

He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t try and pull her into this when he was still a broken and tormented soul, it would only darken her light and stifle all that he wished to keep safe from the shadows of his past.

It’s okay…

Lies, all of it. He’d heard it enough from the beast itself that even the echo of the words was a threat to him. It was gone, yet its scars still remained. It had been taken from him, yet he would never be free of it. Even now the memory of it incited his downfall and goaded him to his conquest, whispering promises of her ruin and misery at his hands. The demon was not a spirit locked within him now, it was him, a piece of him that replayed the memory of it talking back within his mind. He was trapped with a part of himself that was still terrified of more pain and loss, one that was still a child stood petrified before a beast.

“If you had known it would be like this, would you have brought me back?” he asked, quietly and hesitantly, knowing that an answer would never come but fearful of what he had hoped it would be. His eyes fell to the dirt, and he felt his chest shake as he took breath. “Would I have wanted to come back?”

You could sleep forever…

No, he pushed the thought from his mind, unable to dwell on it.

This was precisely the outcome the beast had always wanted, his submission into despair, and he refused to go quietly. The voice was only just that; a voice. It held so sway over him, it could do him no harm, he was sure that’s what Chiyo would’ve said, and he swore to not give it any more power over himself. It wasn’t a battle he had fought before, there was no enemy to strike down, no risk to neutralize, and he knew that it would be a long and arduous road to victory.

He did, however, still have the gravestone. She wouldn’t take up arms in his defense or go to battle against his demon’s ghost, but he knew that if she still took breath she would have been on his side, and that was enough for him. Maybe with enough time he could find peace, when enough years had passed he might forget the sound of the demons voice within his head, and maybe he could even hope to heal enough to invite someone openly into his life, into his heart.

Desperate…weak…

The sun was set below the horizon now, the shadows around him growing and the light cast over his visit with Chiyo slowly fading. He stared at the headstone, the etching of her name staring back at him, and he found himself melancholy. “I know you’re not here,” he spoke aloud, not to the grave, but to himself. “But it helps to talk like this.”

From behind him, a fluttering of wings could be heard as a sand lark flitted around him and perched atop Chiyo’s headstone. It hopped one way and then the other, tweeting a few notes of a song before it flapped into the air and flew back to the open evening skies leading out to the desert. Once there, then altogether gone again.

Gaara watched after the bird even when it disappeared into the waning sunlight, and after a moment he huffed and couldn’t help but smile a little. “All right,” he said as he stood from the ground. “I get it.”

He wasn’t a man of words but a man of subtlety, and her message had been heard loud and clear; just as the sun set tonight, it would rise again tomorrow, and he would have another opportunity to heal, another chance to fight back against the ghost of his demon, another day living a life given back to him.

Gaara stood in silence before Chiyo’s grave and placed a hand gently atop her headstone, it was still warm from the sunlight, and he mused over how his tears didn’t fall amidst their farewells anymore. “Rest well, Lady Chiyo,” he said softly as he turned from her grave and began his slow march back to his home.

The voice would follow him, it may very well for rest of his days, but he’d regained some of his resiliency and felt able to stand a little taller in the face of it now. Each day he hoped to gain more of himself back, each day he wanted to be better than the last, and, perhaps with enough time and enough work, he may even become able to hope others– that a specific someone – would return his longing.

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #gaara #gaaraxsakura #sakugaa #angst with a happy ending #sorta

[laceyjane44]

I made these as a way to compile all the geographical vocabulary that I thought was useful and interesting for writers. Some descriptors share categories, and some are simplified, but for the most part everything is in its proper place. Not all the words are as useable as others, and some might take tricky wording to pull off, but I hope these prove useful to all you writers out there!

(save the images to zoom in on the pics)

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest Day12

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers

“Man, what a drag.” Shikamaru tossed his cigarette to the ground and snuffed it out with the toe of his boot. It smoked against the pavement and his hand impulsively went back to his pack for another. “We got the cops crawlin’ all over this place. What are we even here for?”

Beside him, Gaara leaned against the old stone walls of the Historical Arts Museum, a cup of coffee keeping his hands warm in the brisk autumn air. He pulled down his scarf a little to take a sip and winced; still too hot. “Just hurry up,” he muttered. “We gotta get back in there.”

At the end of the alley, another pair of police walked by, talking casually, and didn’t even glance their way. The cops were everywhere, but it was typical security for the largest tourist pull in the city and surrounding metropolitans, and they had no idea what their mundane Saturday rounds were precedent to and couldn’t see the warning signs in front of them.

That’s why their team had been called in.

Shikamaru and himself, along with three other agents, had been deployed to safeguard the museum under the guise of tourists; they were to blend in with the crowd, watch for signs of suspicion, and would be staking out the building overnight. Only their contractor was privy to who knew of their operation and they were to function as if completely undercover. With orders given, the reasons behind them were negligible, but the recent and very public scandal including the museum and some of their artifacts had given them an inclination as to why their services had been sought out; they were anticipating a heist and couldn’t trust their hired security detail to handle it.

Gaara readjusted the radio piece in his ear, subtle and just like a Bluetooth headphone, and Shikamaru did the same before they reentered the museum and dispersed into the roving crowds. Going separately, they had plenty of time to kill and lots of ground to cover before they had a good handle of the space. No one would try anything during the day, so they spent their time looking for easy points of entry, blind spots in the view of the security cameras, and always wary of anyone acting suspicious.

A few calls had gone over the headsets of the agents as they lapped the building throughout the day: potential activity in the west wing, renaissance section on the second floor, then again in the same wing on the floor below. A third call had come in about a tourist getting too close to one of the paintings and a security guard had them removed. Sloppy work for any muscle-for-hire they expected to be on the job, it made it difficult to say what was to be considered and what could be ignored. Gaara made his way back over to the western wing, he was growing anxious with all the activity happening so far away, he needed to see with his own eyes.

Passing the lobby from the east wing, he was keeping pace with the crowd, not wanting to draw attention to himself, though he was certain the guards had changed shifts since the last time he crossed through here. Ascending the stairs to the second floor, a call came in over the headset; suspicious activity in renaissance again, his agent was in pursuit. Feeling his heart rate increase, Gaara thought they may actually be onto something, and perhaps the night wasn’t going to end in boredom after all.

Rounding the balcony of the second floor, he looked around for the directory, he should at least appear like this wasn’t the third time he’d walked this path today, and as he scanned the area for the map stand, a flash of pink left his heart dropping to his stomach.

Suddenly his hands were on the railing of the balcony, leaning over to double take at the ground floor he’d just come from. Yes, a short bob of that unforgettable light pink hair had just dipped out of view beneath the balcony. His heart was thumping against his chest now, and his feet were moving before he could even press the wireless receiver in his pocket to put out a message. Stepping swiftly down the stairs, he craned his neck to try and see over all the people crowding the adjacent hallways he’d seen her walk down.

“I need eyes on east first floor,” he hissed, weaving around those passing him on the stairs before he finally reached the ground again. “Suspect moving northeast.”

He hadn’t heard the response in his ear, he was too busy searching every head he saw for that familiar color, and he thought he’d seen it once he cleared the steps. Giving chase, he made quick steps in that direction while never taking eyes of the woman walking through the lingering visitors.

“Watch it!” a young man shouted after he’d backed up into Gaara and gotten knocked over in his haste. “Jeeze, look where you’re goin!”

Ignoring the man, Gaara stepped around him and scanned the crowd for any sight of his target; nothing. He walked away from the man still cussing at him and asked over his walkie, “Did you see her?” he asked, urgency in his voice. When his operative responded with see who he was about ready to call for their demotion when they got back to headquarters. “Sakura, you idiot!”

The earbud crackled. “Negative,” the voice responded.

Gaara scowled and rubbed his face as he demanded, “You missed the pink hair?”

Shikamaru came over the walkie then, his command authoritative. “Settle down, everyone dyes there hair now, seen plenty here today already.”

He countered by insisting, “I saw her.”

“Just like in April when you swore she was in Amsterdam?” Gaara stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket and clenched his fists, refusing to yet again make his claim that, yes, he did see her in Amsterdam. “Go back to post.”

He turned from the west wing of the first floor, returning to the stairs and ascending slowly, eyes lingering in the direction he thought he’d seen her last. No trace, gone.

“Dammit,” he cursed under his breath.

At the top of the stairs, a broad open gallery housed some large and impressive masterworks and Gaara took up residence on a bench in front of one of them. There were other people his age appearing to be sketching the paintings, or drawing the crowd, and he intended to blend in with them as he watched the floor below for any signs of that woman; if she were to leave, she would have to do so through the front doors.

Gaara sighed and put his head in his hands for a moment, rubbing his temples and pressing circles into his eyes. Maybe he was seeing things, he was likely just chasing a ghost.

Amsterdam or not; it had been over two years since he’d touched her, since he’d felt how real she was, and he played the memory of their first meeting on repeat so that he wouldn’t forget her face. He had first encountered her on a solo run for an agriculture firm that was struggling with security to their research labs, she’d been caught red handed making off with chemical samples for an upcoming pesticide. Their ensuing scuffle over them ended with a fractured skull and busted wrist for him, a broken rib and stray bullet for her, and he was sure that she had died that night.

He had seen her again a year after that, she’d come crashing down on him and his squad when they were just about to close in on their target, and subsequently slipped away with their payday and an ample helping of his pride. Again, he’d been on mission in central Europe when he returned to his flat and found it ransacked of all their intel with a small lock of hair left on the bed for him as a calling card. He’d been locked in a tidal pull with her ever since; unrelenting, she seemed to always show up when she was least wanted and when he was least ready for her.

This time, Gaara promised himself, eyes still watching all those that passed through the doors below, this time would be different.

“Sabaku,” the voice in his ear called out, conveying the impatience of their team leader. “It’s been noted, return to rounds.”

He stood, taking one last look to the floor below; it was swimming with tourist and locals, resonating a cacophony of echoed murmurs and footsteps, but without sight of her, it just looked empty to him.

…

“Dammit,” Gaara seethed as he sprinted through the dark corridors of the museum, his hard footsteps against the stone floor echoing around him, drowning out the sounds of the scuffle from the western wing.

Only stepping out for a few minutes, he’d been on his way back from using the bathroom when he thought he heard something from the direction of the lobby. Quietly, as to not echo in the open spaces of the empty museum, he made way for the eastern wing, having only made it partway down the stairs to the ground floor when the distinct sound of breaking glass found him. Quickening his pace, he’d whispered a call for backup only to go unanswered but, with the commotion he heard above him now, he figured they had their own issues to deal with.

Through the lobby, down the corridor, into an adjacent hall, and he froze.

Within the dim security lights of the gallery space, all was left undisturbed save for one glass display box with a spotlight shown on a velvet necklace display stand that was missing its jewels, jewels that were currently clutched in the gloved hand of his ghost.

It was only a moment that her eyes lifted to meet his, widening in a look of surprise before she turned tail and ran from him.

He gave chase and ran through the displays, she was fast, and she wasn’t against tipping a display full of priceless jewels over in front of him to slow him down. Gaara wasn’t going to let that stop him; finally, for the first time, he’d gotten the drop on her and caught her by surprise, she wasn’t getting away again.

“Renaissance was just a rouse, huh?” he yelled out to her. “Your lackies are keeping my men busy for you, aren’t they?”

She didn’t even turn her face to him, and he’d chased her into the long corridor and had to close ground before she made it to a door. He pulled his small notepad from his pocket and took aim, hoping to God that his throw was on, and chucked the book ahead of him. It skidded along the ground and an unfortunate footstep landed atop of it, slipped her foot out from under her as she fumbled to the floor.

He had his chance, and he called into his receiver; “First floor, east wing, I’m in pursuit!”

Closing the distance, he was about to make a grab for her when she spun her leg out swept his feet out from under him. Scrambling from the floor as he fell, she tried to gain space from him, but he snagged her ankle and wouldn’t let go. She yelped as she tried lunging away only to grabbed and, when she turned to face him, she was like a cornered animal.

Pulling himself up and grabbing her wrist as she tried to swing at him, he demanded, “Whose pocket are you in now?”

A twist of her hips and a knee connected with his left side, he flinched just enough for her gain back her wrist and lean forward to bring an elbow down against his traps on his shoulders. He grunted and seized up, though the blow had been favorable compared to the time she gave him a kidney shot with a crow bar. Sakura tried to scramble away from him, but he wasn’t relenting; not now, not after two years of bidding his time. 

“Come on,” she huffed, breathless. “You’re not that stupid.” She tried to knee him again and he grabbed the front of her gear, hauling her up a few inches from the floor, only to slam her back down and press the breath from her lungs. She gasped and glared up at him, her eyes alight with fire and fury, and he hadn’t noticed her swing until her gloved fist struck his jaw.

Knocked back and halfway delirious, Gaara floundered after her, narrowly avoiding a kick to the face as he grabbed for her ankle again and when he pulled her back to him, something slid away from her and out of reach. It sparkled in the dim light of the hall, and she began thrashing against him once it left her grasp. Encouraged by the sight of her priorities, Gaara used his strength and size to his full advantage.

Stradling her, he pinned her hips to the floor and swatted away the hands she tried to hit him with. His one hand went to his belt and flicked open the snap holding a pair of cuffs in place and he snagged her wrist with his other. Able to feel her knees hitting against his back and her legs slipping on the hard floor, Gaara secured one wrist in the cuff before he found himself squarely smacked in the face, but he didn’t let go. Any other agent and he wouldn’t given them a broken nose to help them rethink their actions, but with her – from the very start of their cat and mouse – it had been different.

Second wrist chained to the first now, and Gaara held her by the cuffs, keeping her arms raised up to him so she couldn’t wind up for another swing.

He huffed as he kneeled over her, finally able to say that he’d caught the woman that had been the bane of his profession for years. But this wasn’t what he had truly been after, and he needed to know, “Why?” he asked, face contorted in a mask of satisfaction and longing. She stilled beneath him and caught his gaze. “Why do you insist on living this life?”

She looked into his eyes a moment, as if trying to discern if his question were rhetorical or not. “Because,” she said quietly after her pause. “What I do matters.”

Gaara scoffed and yanked on her cuffs, she jostled beneath him but remained otherwise unperturbed. “Theft, espionage, sword for hire,” he listed with a voice of contempt. “This is what matters to you?”

She looked a little disappointed to hear him say that, maybe even a little hurt, but he steeled his emotions and swore she wouldn’t get the best of him this time. Her next words were soft and quiet, not like the ones he would expect spoken of his opponent pinned and handcuffed beneath him. “You left me for dead,” she said smoothly; no anger or betrayal, and he knew instantly when she was speaking of. “What happened after that?”

After her heist of the pesticides, when his gun went off in their tussle and he’d been forced to leave her to evacuate the site, a study surfaced about how high levels of chemicals banned in surrounding countries were found in the new formula; it cost the company millions.

“Don’t feed me any bullshit,” he warned.

“What about the target I stole from you?” she asked, his warning thrown to the wayside. Gaara scowled. “Wasn’t he just a whistle blower your government wanted quiet?” He couldn’t refute that one, it had come out soon after their failed mission that the man they’d been sent to capture was indeed a high-profile target for the powerful people that ended up put behind bars with his testimony.

“What about Amsterdam?” Gaara demanded. “I know you were there.”

She smiled up at him, a soft expression, one that was so rare on a face like hers. “When do you think I took this job?”

Gaara looked up from her to where the glittering necklace still sat on the cold floor. “For that?” he questioned in disbelief. “For a necklace?”

“An heirloom,” she corrected him, her frustration with his lack of wit becoming evident. “You’re not deaf, you’ve heard the news?”

“For Christ’s sake!” he exclaimed. “Have them take the museum to court if it’s stolen!”

“It’s taken seven years to go to court!” she spat back at him. “I work much quicker.”

“Stop the misunderstood savior act,” he sneered. “I know you’re lying.” She had to be, no one was as good as she was with righteous intent.

Now, as she frowned and looked to the side, she truly did look pained. It was the first look of vulnerability he’d seen from her, the first glimpse into a person beneath the weapon that she was. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Defiant, Gaara tugged on her cuffs, still locked in the iron grip of his fist, and made a show of her bindings. “I know you’re not getting away this time,” he answered, his words every bit of a promise he could make them.

“Think so?” she asked, her eyes sliding back to him, and she was smirking now. Gaara hesitated, this was precisely why he remained suspicious of her. “I’m the only one that you can’t catch, Gaara,” she said, now looking him squarely in the eyes without a trace of uncertainty or deceit.

 “But I’ve caught you,” he countered, unable to understand her mind when she was finally right where he wanted her to be after all this time.

“I know,” she agreed. Again, her voice was smooth and calm, unafraid and unworried. “And you’re about to let me go.”

“What are you talking abo–”

From the cuffs in his hand, a watch around her wrist suddenly flashed red and began beeping in a high-pitched succession. Gaara flinched but didn’t release her from his grip. Then all at once, a spray of automatic gunfire echoed through the museum and a few distinct pops could be heard returning fire. Looking back to the woman beneath him, he found her with a quieted look of urgency on her face, the echoed pops sounding off around them.

“You should’ve just let me walk,” she said, her voice sounding as if she were a bit sorry for the way things turned out before she ordered, “Go, they’ll need you.”

He didn’t know what he was about to say, he wanted to demand more answers from her, he wanted to drag her off with him so she wouldn’t escape him again, but his uncertainty died on his tongue when his radio crackled in his ear, and he could hear his fellow agent shouting over gunfire and calling for his location.

“Shit,” he seethed, dropping her cuffed wrists, he stood from where he had her pinned, and he took off down the hall. Passing the necklace she’d dropped; he scooped it up in his hands and shut it safely in his pocket and unzipped the vest to access his gun holster.

Sprinting, his lungs burned as he dashed through the lobby and he swiftly ascended the stairs. Gun drawn, heart racing, adrenaline honing his senses with every concussive sound to echo within the museum’s open chambers, Gaara swiveled around the railing to the second floor and found cover against the frame of the doorway leading to the western wing. He took a breath, preparing himself for the moment he turned the corner, and then all at once the gunfire had stopped.

The last of the shots echoed through the museum for a few seconds, and when they finally subsided, Gaara had called out over his walkie and ran to the team. They had been shaken and confused, surrounded by the sound of gunfire yet no one had been hit. His agents hadn’t been able to tell where it was coming from, and only a small number of bullet holes could be found in the floors and on the surrounding walls. Then it had simply stopped.

Gritting his teeth, Gaara turned a heel and ran back down the hall and down the stairs, the call of Shikamaru and his fellow agents going unanswered. Once through the lobby he slowed his steps upon seeing the dim glow of the security lights illuminating his pair of handcuffs left lying on the stone floor; open, both sides. His breath all but left him, his blood ran cold. How much of this had she planned? How long had she been watching him throughout the day?

Running again, he came upon the room he’d discovered her in and stepped through the broken shards of glass left at the display podium. He pulled the bejeweled necklace from his pocket along with a small flashlight and shown the beam onto the piece. It flashed in his hands and he moved the light to the display tile affixed to the podium.

Clenching the necklace in his fist, he took a shaken breath. A replica, and a poor one at that. She hadn’t even meant to leave it, who would have been fooled? It was for him, to make him think he’d finally bested her, and he’d fallen for it.

Running a hand through his hair and stifling his frustration and his rage, he once more secured the necklace in his pocket. He would be seeing her again, he was certain of it.

Thanks for reading!

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceyJane

FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2120361/WiccadBaltane0501

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #sakura haruno #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #gaara #gaaraxsakura #sakugaa #naruto au #Prompt: Enemies to Lovers #AgentGaara #SpySakura #Not quite lovers yet

[laceyjane44]

[laceyjane44]

GaaSaku 2023 FanFest Day11

Prompt: Kink

Go ahead and click the link if you wanna view this gem.

#gaasaku #sabaku no gaara #sakura haruno #ao3 #fan fest 2023 #gaasaku fan fest #gaara #gaaraxsakura #sakugaa #Prompt: Kink #n sfw