He always imagined that dying would be easier the second time around.
(The ground opened up beneath Gaara and the world exploded in his face.)
After all, he knew what to expect from death. The pain. The convulsions. The loss of strength. The fear. How his body would begin to fade away, further slipping from his grasp and out of his control. How his life’s regrets and anguish would haunt him in those final moments.
How he hated himself for his weakness. The failure that led to his end. Gaara always blamed himself.
(The ringing in his ears wouldn’t stop. His vision blurred. He didn’t have time to count how many heavily clad enemy ninja now surrounded him. They moved as one.)
The sound of a cough drew his attention, and he started, forgetting for a moment that he could still make a noise. Not that it mattered anymore. Blood from his open mouth had splattered on his lips. His rasp had expelled the liquid up and out, but then he hadn’t the foresight.
Another thought.
Blood tasted like iron when it was someone else’s life source. A rustic, tangy sensation that shouldn’t be as sweet as it is. Shukaku taught him how good it could feel. But now? His own blood was not so sweet.
(He summoned his defence as they attacked, using speed and relentless, coordinated attacks to throw him off balance and distract him.)
The trickle of rain that made it through the canopy of leaves and trees above him soaked his face like blood splatter. Gaara coughed again and forced himself to roll over, grasping at the forest floor. A forest. He almost laughed at that. He figured his actual end would be in the desert he called home. Not mere miles from the village hidden in the leaves. The place he’d been trying to flee.
(The leader appeared out of Gaara’s blind spot, face twisted in glee and victory when he struck. Searing, scorching pain wracked his body and all Gaara could do was scream.)
Sand. He could barely feel it. Mentally, he could focus it to carry out tasks without having to lift a finger. On a good day. But right now, it felt impossible. He twisted his head in the direction he knew her to be. Gaara could barely lift his arm, but it was enough to push more chakra into the sand. On occasion, and especially when his life depended on it, the granules of his gourd acted like they had a mind of their own.
He had faith in his sand. He had to. Gaara trusted that it would make it back to Konoha.
That every granule of desperate, blood-soaked sand would find her.
(Fear and panic threatened to overwhelm him as the leader struck again and again. And Gaara felt every crack as his body broke under the onslaught.)
The midday sun blinked between the breaks in the canopy, heating up the soil and shrubbery Gaara’s body had fallen on. The smell of the dead would-be-assassins told him much more time had passed than he first thought. It still felt like the same day. He was no medic but wasn’t it supposed to take at least two days, depending on the temperature?
He blinked and turned his head, wincing from the effort and the sudden strain. It didn’t matter.
(Almost as if it had a mind of its own, his sand shot out, screeching in anger and fuelled by his fury. His own blood tainted the sand as it crushed them. Ripping through them as easily as it flew through the air.)
All he could think about was her. She consumed him every moment, waking or sleeping. How could she think he’d be able to just stop loving her? Why would he just forget her? Facing his own death only highlighted the pettiness of their arguments. What did inter-village politics matter when one angry rant could end everything? What did the honour and loyalty to such arbitrary, temporary alliances matter in the face of a force as powerful as love?
Gaara spluttered as he tried not to cough again. His chest pulled and strained with the attempt. He needed to keep such violent and involuntary movement to a minimum. It would only aggravate his condition. He scoffed even as his body convulsed. The hacking and dry heaving threatened to rip at his insides.
My condition?
It all seemed so trivial now. Dying was painful no matter how many times it happened. He was such a fool. But when he closed his eyes, expecting darkness - anticipating the end - all he saw was a familiar, beautiful face. Bright green eyes. Vibrant pink hair. A smile that made him weak at the knees. That disarmed him in a way that nobody else ever had.
Was he not enough for her to feel the same?
(He hadn’t killed anyone with such barbaric satisfaction for a very long time. The enemy died around him and Gaara’s vision blurred once more as his own blood joined theirs in decorating the forest floor.)
He groaned again. Where was she? How had it all gone so wrong? His sand had to have found her by now. Gaara curled his fingers, digging into the ground once more. He needed to try again. He churned the last of his sand - the only parts he could sense now - and forced it into a usable shape. It left him one last time and Gaara knew he didn’t have enough strength to do that again.
He didn’t want to die.
Sakura, please.
As consciousness flickered inward and back out again, she haunted him once more. Memories of their arguments, their love making, and reflection on simply being together assaulted his dying mind.
They’d only dated for a year. Behind closed doors. Out of mind and out of sight. A secret. In hindsight, it sounded like a dirty word and a clandestine affair. As though they were both married to others and were only meeting each other to scratch an itch they couldn’t otherwise reach. A lie, in every sense of the word and an excuse. Always on her mind. Always on her lips.
Sakura held Gaara at arm’s length in public. She didn’t want the world to know about their relationship. This frustrated him, even though he claimed understanding. But she wasn’t embarrassed, she’d said. Just cautious. He was the Kazekage, and people had intrusive opinions about political relationships. She wanted to have him all to herself while they figured out where they stood with each other. Objectively, it made sense. It just saddened him in ways he couldn’t explain.
They made love for the first time in his hotel bed on top of the covers but with the lights out. She’d been every bit as soft and sensual as Gaara had imagined. She was kind. She was gentle. She was understanding. The very picture of a woman in love. A kunoichi who knew exactly what she was doing and was determined to be a generous and enthusiastic lover. If she hadn’t already stolen his heart, that would be the moment he knew he too, was in love.
“Gaara…”
It was always one thing or another. He was her dirty little secret. Then one day, self-awareness seemed to strike her like a lightning jutsu.
“I can’t… I can’t fall in love with you. I just can’t…”
She belonged in Konoha, she said. All her friends and family were there. He’d have believed her if she didn’t force the words out through heavy tears and a hacking sob. If she had been able to look him in the eye and tell him she didn’t love him. But she had never been a good liar so, in this instance, didn’t even bother trying to.
He knew. She loved him. It broke her heart to break his. But ultimately, he wasn’t enough.
“I want you to be.”
But he never was. She wanted him. So badly. It was written all over her face. She couldn’t hide her feelings to save her life. But Sakura also couldn’t hide her fear. She was more scared of him than he was of her.
So, she let him go. Fuck. And he had no say in the matter. Was this the point of a romantic relationship? The ending? That one person could just upturn everything and break them both into tiny pieces? How could she love him so intolerably and then just let him go?
It was like dying all over again.
Then Gaara knew what it felt like to really die. Just a little bit. Every time he had to travel to Konoha she was there. He’d hoped to avoid her. If the streets of Suna were busy and empty, then the streets of Konoha were worse. She was there. She had vanished. The emptiness was a grim reminder of what had been.
Temari was shacking up with that Nara and Gaara had no excuse not to visit. He couldn’t stay away. It would be suspicious. He spent a few hours, holed up in his hotel room, getting steadily more annoyed and self-pitying. It was the memory of her that finally made him snap.
“I can’t… I can’t fall in love with you. I just can’t…”
Fuelled by anger and hope he faced her one last time. It would be his last Konoha visit, secrecy and suspicion be damned. He couldn’t keep coming here and doing this to himself. Gaara had more self-respect than that. But the ensuing argument only led to him storming out.
“Don’t you dare leave, Gaara! Don’t leave me angry!”
She warned him not to leave Konoha immediately. He’d come to the leaf on his own and so was leaving on his own. Sakura had seemed worried for him. It only made him angrier. She told him not to leave in this blind and furious state. The same state that clouded his judgement and caused him to miss the warning signs of the ambush that waited him several miles out of the village. They were waiting for him. He had no idea why. Who knew what rogue ninja were so still angry about, after the war that nearly killed them all? But they were the harbingers of his death. And it was all his own doing.
Gaara cracked a painful eye open at the nearby sound. There was something in the distance, racing towards him. Was it her? Or was it finally Death itself? Whatever it was, it knew his name.
Was she here to tell him, “I told you so”?
She was too late. He’d already learned that lesson. The canopy was blocked by her silhouette. It was her, right? Nobody ever touched him like she did. Small, soft, loving hands. Caressing and explorative hands. Adoring hands that could never get enough of feeling every part of him. Like he would have done for her, forever.
He inhaled deeply as her chakra invaded his body. He was delirious.
“Stay with me, Gaara,” she whispered.
He could barely hear or see her. He groaned a sound that was suspiciously like a sob. He was having trouble breathing now. His body was no longer responding. It all felt like a dream that was drifting away. Fear and pain melted away. He closed his eyes and let it come.
“Stay with me, Gaara,” she repeated, her voice rising in frustration. “Don’t you dare fucking die on me!”
Maybe it was because he was listening for it. Because he was counting the beats as they slowed. But he felt it the moment it happened. At the same time the breath left his lungs for a final time, Gaara felt his heart stop and his world disappear into the unknown.
And her scream followed him into the dark.
It was something intangible. Something beyond human perception. A thing that only dying and crossing over could reveal. It was hidden. Shrouded. Always too far away, no matter how he groped towards it clumsily. His arm was too short. His reach was too limited. And it would remain there. Whatever it was.
What was that? A flash of red. Of pink. Of light. Her voice came through garbled, like he was underwater. She was punching his chest now, furious and beautiful. He imagined she was a sight to behold.
Gaara had no sense of up or down as he hovered between that light and the dark at his back. What was he supposed to do? His eyes were barely open, everything coming to him through the slits of his eyelids as he struggled not to give into the exhaustion.
“Don’t you dare,” she said between sobs. Her voice was strong and angry in his ear. “Don’t die, please.”
He convulsed suddenly and winced. Crying. Someone was sobbing nearby. The voice echoing in the void. Her happiness enveloped him as the dark retreated behind him. The flash of red and pink felt like a blanket, and he reached for it. This time, his fingers closed in on something soft and warm. And he felt comforted. Loved. It was a far cry from that something… the thing that he didn’t have a name for and would remain forever out of reach.
Someone was touching him. And the last thing he remembered of that place was the feel of her lips on his.
(He spat blood at Gaara, grinning even as the sand dug into his gut, breaking apart his innards. “You’re dead, Kazekage. It’s only a matter of time.”)
Gaara could still smell death when he finally came to. The cold, white and unassuming ceiling of a private V.I.P. room in the Konoha Hospital greeted him as his eyes slowly and tiredly fluttered open. He was immediately aware of the sleeping person nearby.
She’s here.
Slumped in the chair next to his bed, twisted into a contorted position as though she’d fought with the chair viciously in order to get comfortable. And lost. But her deep breaths and slight twitching proved she’d at least won the fight for sleep. Sakura looked like the dead warmed up.
He smiled lightly and tried to sit up.
“Uh, no you don’t.”
Gaara started. Lady Tsunade was at the door. He hadn’t sensed her.
“Don’t growl at me,” she said sternly. “You’re very lucky to be alive.” She glanced over at Sakura. “Because someone wouldn’t give up on you. I said, don’t,” she snarled as Gaara attempted again to sit up. “You’ll undo all Sakura’s hard work.”
He slumped back down as the busty blonde sauntered into the room and finally looked down at himself, peeking under the hospital gown. It all seemed a little anticlimactic now. Where there had once been a gaping wound now was only pink-tinged skin that was still healing. Chakra infusion in medical applications was still limited, after all. It felt like his ribs were still broken though, so he touched his chest gently.
He winced at the sting. It was no longer broken but still hurt.
“That was pretty dumb,” Tsunade continued, as though he wasn’t groaning in pain. “Leaving Konoha like that. Falling for that ambush was such a rookie move.” She laughed as he growled again. “But of course, you sent your S.O.S to Sakura instead of Anbu or me.”
Gaara froze. Did that mean…
“You’re in love with my student,” she said, waving a hand dismissively, “I get it. You two were not as stealthy as you thought you were.”
What was she saying?
Tsunade grinned. “I’m saying everybody already knew.”
She excused herself as Sakura began to stir. Frowning at this new knowledge, Gaara only stared at the pinkette, thinking. Everyone already knew they’d been together? Then what was all the secrecy for? Had the entirety of his angst over Sakura’s insistence for keeping them a secret been a waste of time?
“Gaara!”
He’d never heard her voice screech before. Not even in their worst arguments. This strangled cry reeked of desperation was new. Gaara tried to hug her back, but Tsunade was right. He didn’t have the strength. But he felt himself leaning into her touch, relaxing under her hold even as she gripped him too tightly. With her face buried in his neck, her murmurs were muffled. He whispered her name, and she pulled away to breathe.
“I…” She inhaled sharply, clearly trying not to just start sobbing. “I was so scared. You almost died and I couldn’t…”
He had died. For a moment at least.
“I was so stupid! I should’ve–”
“Sakura.”
“I never should’ve–”
“Sakura!”
She stopped mid-tirade as he coughed from the effort of raising his voice. Sakura ran an explorative hand over his chest, then tucked her hands into his when she found nothing to heal.
Gaara took a fortifying breath. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. I love you.” She squeezed his hand. “I should’ve told you sooner. I shouldn’t have let you go.”
“Sakura.”
“I–”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s really not.”
He sighed, not having the strength to argue with her. They never used to do that before.
She lowered her eyes, nervously picking at the edge of his bedsheet. Then she brushed off some imaginary lint from his pillow before sighing. “I am sorry.”
“We both are, I suppose.”
There was a gulf between them. He hadn’t expected his almost-death to change that, even though his heart had stopped. For how long, he didn’t know. Didn’t want to know.
“I’m the one that left in anger,” he said.
“After I drove you away,” she added.
They fell silent again. Falling in love was scary. This reaction was normal and understandable. But, as he’d argued to her, they needed to be brave. She took that as confirmation that they didn’t have a future. A healthy relationship was not built on fear and restraint. They needed to dive in headfirst. To take the risk.
Which she didn’t want to do.
Gaara sighed. It was all still too raw. Too real. He wanted to tell her to buck up and give him a chance. It was unfair on him. But pushing Sakura never helped. She always ran in the opposite direction. Her years-long obsession with the Uchiha brat had wrecked her perspective.
“Sakura–”
“I know you have no reason to believe me,” she interrupted in a mild panic, like she knew what he was about to say. “And no reason to listen to anything I have to say. I’m ashamed that it took me until you literally died…” She looked away and took a fortifying breath that sounded like a death rattle. “I’m an idiot.”
What was he supposed to say to that?
But she wasn’t done yet.
“But… if you…” She sighed. “Ugh. This was easier in my head.” She swallowed heavily and grasped his hand, smiling with more confidence when he squeezed her in return. “Tell me I’m delusional and I’ll walk away. But I want you, Gaara.”
Gaara inhaled sharply, his heart racing. Did she mean?
She smiled. “We can try again. If you want. I owe you so much for… well. You know. I don’t expect everything to be okay right away. I have a lot to make up for. We’ll take our time. Do it right.” She sighed when all he did was stare at her. “And I promise, no secrecy this time.”
“They all know.”
Sakura raised an eyebrow at him. She didn’t look upset, which made him feel bolder. Gaara pulled on her hand and caught her gaze. “We can start from scratch.”
Her face lit up expectantly even though they both knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. But her happiness made him want to try. His heart was racing. His nerves were shot. But he kept his expression as calm as he could. The idea of going back to the beginning and having her in his arms again… well, it was worth everything. She was worth everything. He could forgive her if she could forgive him.
He licked his lips. “Kiss me.”
It was the most forward he’d ever been in their relationship, but her face split into a genuine smile and Gaara revelled in the blush that lit up her pale skin as she leant forward to do just that.