NARUTO: Gaara/Sakura/Sasori - "The Words" (Chapter 02)

[moor]

SUMMARY: Modern high-school romance AU about overcoming what holds you back from being your best self (yourself) and the vulnerability of sharing that best version of yourself with another.

PAIRING: Gaara x Sakura, Sasori x Sakura
RATING: M
WARNINGS/SQUICKS: violence, bullying, injury recovery, emotional vulnerability, family trauma, generational trauma
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I really haven't written much Gaara/Sakura, so any and all feedback is constructive. Cheers!

The next morning, Temari pulled the BMW into the student lot and looked at her brothers through her oversized sunglasses.

“Be nice. Be polite. Don’t fight. Don’t bite.”

“Only if they ask nicely,” grinned Kankuro, lifting his bag and opening the door.

Temari smacked him in the side as he laughed.

“Gaara.”

He glared at her from the backseat. True enough, most of the swelling on his face had deflated, though his lily-pale skin was still mottled with yellow-purple bruising.

“Try,” sighed Temari, unlocking the door so he could leave.

Her youngest brother said nothing and slammed the car door behind him as he left.

###

Whoever was making up the class seating charts that term had it in for Sakura.

Gaara was placed beside her in AP calculus, history, language arts, and chemistry.

“It’s because you’re a good girl. You need to ruin your reputation,” said Ino as Sakura fought the urge to rip out her telltale rose locks at lunch. They sat outside on the bleachers, watching the girls soccer team run laps.

“You can do it, Hinata!” called Sakura, cheering for their shy friend as she jogged past on the track that circled the perimeter of the field. She clapped as Hinata gave her a tiny wave and a big smile.

It had taken everything in their small friend group to get Hinata to try out for the soccer team, and they had all celebrated when she made the B-team. Hinata was A-team material, and the coaches knew it, however Hinata herself lacked confidence. She was happier playing in the B-team, for now. Sakura had plans to get her friend to bump up her efforts. She just needed the right moment to unleash her secret weapon on her.

“You’d think breaking up fights would encourage the faculty to keep the newbies away from me,” growled Sakura, biting savagely at her sandwich.

“You should have attacked him, not the bullies,” said Ino, waving away Sakura’s concerns. “How’s he doing, anyway?”

“He’s smart,” admitted Sakura. “He’s ahead of us in some things and not far behind in others, but he’s intelligent. He’s catching up quickly.”

“Smarter than you?”

“No one is smarter than me, except maybe Shikamaru. Which reminds me, how’s he been doing in drama?”

Ino snorted. “Oh my god, I’ve never seen Mister Gai so depressed. Shika won’t give him anything to work with. Shika keeps finding props to sleep inside instead of participating.”

“Poor Mister Gai. He’s so supportive,” said Sakura sympathetically.

“He is,” agreed Ino. “I don’t know what Shika was thinking, signing up for drama.”

“Maybe we should ask Kankuro if he can make a puppet of Shika so it can take Shika’s place in drama class,” suggested Sakura.

“I probably could,” said Kankuro from behind them.

The girls shrieked in surprise while Kankuro laughed and climbed up on the bleachers.

“You jerk! It’s rude to eavesdrop!”

“Yeah yeah, it’s equally wrong to gossip,” countered Kankuro, smiling at them and picking up Sakura’s sandwich which she had dropped into her lunch bag. He took a bite and winked at her. “So, what are we up to today, ladies? Besides being very thorough in our privacy-filleting research.”

“Fine, just keep the sandwich,” muttered Sakura, reaching for her water bottle. Kankuro nodded at her.

“You really could? Make the puppet, I mean,” asked Ino, squaring off with Kankuro shrewdly.

He shrugged, taking another bite of Sakura’s lunch. “Sure. I just need supplies.”

“Are you looking for someone? Do you need something?” asked Sakura.

Kankuro turned to her and swallowed the last of her sandwich. “I actually came to say thank you for yesterday.”

Blinking, Sakura’s face and ears warmed. “Don’t worry about it. Free service for newbies.”

“No, no, if you want to give her a gift, I can offer suggestions,” broke in Ino, smiling eagerly.

“Ino,” muttered Sakura, shoving her friend, even as Kankuro laughed.

“Well, Temari and I appreciated it. Gaara doesn’t make friends easily, so it means a lot that you came to help him out.”

Sakura froze. Friends. What.

“Really? I would have thought you would have all been very popular at your last school. You’re all attractive enough,” said Ino, leaning forward, resting her chin on her hand and her elbow on her knee.

Kankuro looked at her and shook his head. “You are trouble.”

Sakura snorted. “You have no idea.”

“Shhh, Sakura, let him flatter me.”

Kankuro smiled and mimicked Ino’s pose.

“If there’s something we can do to thank you, please let me or Gaara know. He’s a tough nut to crack, but he’s a good guy.”

“There’s really no need,” assured Sakura. This couldn’t be happening. Her heart felt sick.

“Well, I hear you’re his partner for all his classes, so you must have done something to get on his good side,” said Kankuro. “He would have sat alone if he could.”

Sakura would have, too, if her teachers would have let her. Which they had, usually, up ‘til now.

“If you need any help with him, just let me know. Here’s my number,” said Kankuro, texting her. Her phone beeped a moment later.

“How did you get my number?”

“It was in Gaara’s phone.”

Sakura blinked.

“He memorised it when you offered it to him yesterday. He only needs to see something once before he gets it,” explained Kankuro.

The fog in Sakura’s mind cleared. So that’s why he hadn’t taken her paper…

“Anyway, it was lovely lunching with you ladies, but I need to get to bio,” said Kankuro.

“We’ll talk about that puppet later. I’ll get your number from Sak’s phone,” called Ino.

Kankuro nodded and waved, jogging towards the school.

“What the fuck is going on in crazytown?” mumbled Sakura to herself as she packed up her bag.

“Hot guys are hitting up your phone and you’re complaining?”

“... yes?”

Ino sighed and tugged her to her feet. “Girl, we need to work on your boundaries. And lowering your expectations.”

###

Gaara and Sakura fell into a sort of wintry rhythm in their classes thereafter. They only spoke when necessary, they completed partnered work with a minimum of interaction, and they handed everything in early so they could get the Hell away from each other as soon as possible. It worked very well for them.

—until their language arts teacher, Mister Hatake, broke the awful news to them about their latest group project.

“No one is choosing their own partners,” he drawled, yawning as he read off his pre-planned course outline. Rumour had it that he’d stolen it from the previous AP language arts teacher and hadn’t changed a thing since. Even his exams were carried over word-for-word from year to year.

Sakura and Ino looked at each other. They had already started on their project, as they’d been banking on being able to choose each other. It’s what had always happened in Mister Hatake’s classes. Forever. He’d never been arsed to do anything new before.

“Unfortunately, there’s been some suspected cheating due to the unusually high number of well-marked pieces of work,” he sighed.

Sakura seethed, it was his own fault if there were! Lazy piece of shit teacher!

“So we’re going to change it up. I have a cup with everyone’s names in it. You choose a name, you’re partnered. If someone’s name was already pulled, just throw it out and pull again,” said Mister Hatake. He stood up, shook out his wrinkled pants (had he pulled them straight out of his dryer? Sakura suspected so), and walked to the first desk offering the cup.

“It’s still w-wet and smells l-like coffee,” said Hinata quietly, leaning away.

“The bottom ones may be a bit soggy,” admitted Mister Hatake.

Poor Hinata swallowed and reached into the biohazardous cup to pinch out a name.

“N-Neji,” she said, confused.

“He’s in grade 12,” said another student.

“This isn’t the grade 12 class?” said Mister Hatake.

“This is the grade 11 class, s-sir,” said Hinata.

“Oh,” said Mister Hatake.

The class turned warily silent for a moment.

“Oh well. Sakura, Gaara, you’re together. Everyone else, pair up as you please.”

“WHAT!?”

The class turned to stare at Sakura for her outburst.

Mister Hatake, however, just shrugged.

“Teach the new guy,” he said, turning back to his cup of soggy names. “Guess I’ll save these for the real grade 12s,” he muttered to himself. “The assignment is already in the Google classroom on your Blackberries—”

“Chromebooks!”

“—whatever. Work on it for the rest of the afternoon.”

“I’m going to kill that man,” vowed Sakura.

“Work first,” said Gaara, already opening the assignment.

At his voice, Sakura turned and for the first time found him with his brows drawn together… or, where his brows should have been, drawn together.

“This looks like…”

Sakura opened her own Chromebook and her heart sank. This was not the assignment that had been previously posted.

“This… is a grade seven home economics assignment,” said Sakura hollowly. She read it aloud, incredulous. “You and your partner will create a family! Roll the dice (see Attachment A; print and assemble dice) to see what events happen in your life, and create a poster board presentation to give to the class on what happened and why or why not,” read Sakura.

Gaara looked at her. “Poster Board?”

“Like, Bristol board?” wondered Sakura. “We would normally do a Powerpoint or Google slideshow.”

They looked at each other a moment before, luckily, someone else in the class raised their hand.

“Yes?” said Mister Hatake.

“Uh, can we substitute a Google slideshow instead of a poster?”

Mister Hatake sighed. “Do both.”

Sakura’s fingers curled into fists. “I hate that man,” she hissed under her breath.

To her surprise, Gaara, still watching her, swallowed.

“Him, not you,” said Sakura quickly.

Gaara continued staring at her.

Her neck warming, Sakura looked down at the assignment again.

“Welp. Your place or mine, Gaara?” she asked tiredly, shoulders slumping. “Where do we start our family?”

“Yours,” he said tightly.

Sakura nodded. She quickly typed her address on screen. She glanced at him and he nodded that he’d memorised it. She then deleted it.

“I live about ten minutes away from school. What days are you free?”

“All of them.”

Not exactly trying to fit in, are you, thought Sakura uncharitably, before mentally calling herself a grouch. Given what Ino had said about his family’s history, she couldn’t exactly blame him for wanting to be on his own.

“I’m free Tuesdays and Fridays,” said Sakura. “How about we each come up with our ideas for this tonight, and tomorrow, Friday, you can come over and we’ll hammer this out. Work for you?”

He nodded.

“OK, let’s get started, I guess,” muttered Sakura, digging into the more detailed outline.

Beside her, she assumed Gaara did the same for he did not speak to her again for the rest of the class.

—though she thought she caught him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye once or twice.

###

It was bad.

Gaara stared at himself in the bathroom mirror at home that night.

It was bad.

It was unsightly.

It was uncomfortable.

He looked down.

“Go away,” he snapped at it.

Fuck, it was so stupid.

It didn’t. It stayed.

He hated it so much.

Kankuro’s heavy pounding on the door startled him.

“Hey, you almost done? I was gonna run the dishwasher.”

“Fuck off,” snarled Gaara. “I’m showering.”

“Yeah, then you’d be using the damn water!”

“Cut it out, both of you,” Temari’s no-nonsense voice cut through their argument from the other side of the bathroom door. Going by her footsteps, she was beside Kankuro. “Gaara, you have fifteen minutes to shower before Kankuro turns on the water.”

Gaara glared at them through the door, but just turned back to the shower stall and turned it on before flipping the faucet control to the COLD side.

Bracing himself, he stepped under the water and hoped his issue would resolve itself.

###

“I’m going out after school,” announced Gaara in the car the next morning.

Temari nearly drove over the curb as she whipped around to look at him. “What?”

“Whoa, whoa! The road, watch the road!” burst out Kankuro, grabbing the wheel to straighten it. Then he, too, turned in his seat to stare at Gaara. “What, you’re serious?”

“I have an assignment.”

“So?”

“A group assignment. It has to be done in person.”

“What a dick move by your teacher. Oh wait, is it Mister Hatake?”

“Yes.”

“I heard he was nuts.”

Gaara bristled.

“But OK, that’s cool. Invite over whoever, no big deal.”

Kankuro and Temari were giving each other A Look that left Gaara frowning.

“Out. We’re going to her house.”

“Her?!”

“Temari, for fuck’s sake eyes on the road!”

“Watch your mouth!”

“Watch the road!”

Gaara closed his eyes and laid his head back on the seat, leaving his siblings to squabble. A few minutes later, as they approached the school parking lot, Kankuro glanced over his shoulder again at Gaara.

“You said ‘she’.”

Gaara ignored him.

“What’s her name?”

Gaara debated ignoring Kankuro but thought it easier in the long run to just get it out of the way. “Sakura.”

“Sakura was… nice,” said Temari hesitantly, glancing at Kankuro as she parked.

“Fucking crazy as Hell is what she was,” muttered Kankuro. “She might be hot as fuck but that level of insane is—”

Gaara left the car, slamming his door on his way out.

“I thought you liked her,” said Temari to Kankuro as Gaara stalked off.

“I do!”
“Well you just pissed him off by insulting her,” she said.

“I didn’t mean to! Why would he care… oh.”

“Oh what?” asked Temari, bristling.

“Oh shit.”

###

“Hey,” tried Sakura when Gaara stormed into class and took his regular seat beside her in calculus. All their teachers had paired him beside her. As if she was his own personal gaoler.

He ignored her, choosing instead to pull out his books, calculator and mechanical pencils, then cross his arms angrily across his chest. He stared poisonously at the whiteboards at the front of the class as other students gave them a wide berth.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Sakura debated what to do.

Eventually she flipped to the last page of her notebook.

You good?

She turned the book his way, leaving the pencil on the page.

He glared at it, then at her.

Did I do something? You seem mad.

His glare remained but, after a second, he shook his head.

She pulled the book back towards herself and was about to flip back to their current homework when Gaara lay his hand overtop. His hands were larger than she expected, his fingers long and narrow. He may be a bit short, but he had a man’s hands.

For some reason, Sakura then noticed the sinewy muscles of his forearms.

She swallowed.

He was strong.

Of course he’s strong, he took on four bullies at once and had little more than a few bruises the next day, she chided herself. Still.

His nimble fingers picked up her pencil, and in an elegant script she would never have anticipated from him, he wrote,

Just my brother.

Then, he added,

You didn’t do anything.

He set down her pencil and waited for her to take the notebook back again before he glanced at her, some of his tension ebbing away.

Sakura read over his note and gave him a small smile.
Which she then illustrated, adding a smiley face under his words.

No worries.

Biting her cheek, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes before writing beneath it,

You seem like the smarter one.

To her surprise, he glanced at it. Then at her.

And for a split second, he smirked.

… Sakura’s face warmed.

###

“You’re sure you don’t need a chaperone, being alone with a boy who isn’t Naruto or Sasuke?”

Sakura’s expression soured at Ino’s text message.

“Go fuck yourself,” typed Sakura. She hit SEND.

“Hn?” asked Sasuke from beside her.

“Not you,” said Sakura. “Naruto’s got that covered.”

Sasuke glared at her for a second before glancing away, cheeks pink.

“Oh my god, I was kidding,” said Sakura, aghast. She nearly tripped as they walked to her locker. “Really?”

“Jealous,” muttered Sasuke, turning to look at her smugly.

Sakura stared at him before shaking her head.

“No. Happy for you two,” she said instead. And she was. She smiled at him. “Really.”

“Hn,” intoned Sasuke, pausing at her locker. She opened it up and traded out her books as he continued. “I was going to have a few people over tomorrow, since Itachi’s supposed to be home this weekend. Naruto suggested you could come over and catch up… Hn?”

Sakura glanced up at Sasuke to find him staring at someone on her other side.

Gaara stood there, knapsack over his shoulder, silently waiting beside her.

“Hey,” said Sakura, smiling up at him from where she knelt in front of her locker. “You ready?”

“Ready?” repeated Sasuke suspiciously. He took a step closer to Sakura, his eyes on Gaara.

“We’re working on an assignment together,” said Sakura to Sasuke. “Let me know what time to pop by tomorrow, I haven’t seen Itachi in ages.”

“Ah, I’ll text you,” said Sasuke. Still he remained where he was. “Where are you working together? The library?”

“Sasuke, if Naruto hears you like this he’ll be devastated,” said Sakura, standing and locking her locker. She looked Sasuke dead in the eye and raised her brows. “Do you seriously want to hurt his feelings?”

A muscle ticked in Sasuke’s jaw as he looked between Gaara and Sakura.

“Call me later,” Sasuke said, finally relenting. He hitched his backpack over his shoulders and turned away.

“Tell Naruto I send my love,” she called after him.

Not turning back, he gave her the finger, making her laugh. Eyes still shining, she faced Gaara to find him studying her.

He cleared his throat. “Your…”

“Very ex-boyfriend. He and Naruto have been a couple for like two years now,” said Sakura. “Trust me, it was a confusing time for all of us. We’re all much happier this way.”

Gaara watched her for a moment before nodding once.

“So, how are you finding your classes so far?...” asked Sakura as they started towards the exit.

###

“Ice? Juice? Lemonade? Water?”

Gaara glanced around Sakura’s apartment as she kicked off her shoes at the front door and offered him a pair of guest slippers.

“Lemonade. With ice,” he replied, setting his shoes neatly beside the entrance step.

“C’mon in. Bathroom’s on the left, living room is on the right, kitchen is sort of in the middle, and back there is off-limits,” said Sakura, gesturing to each room they passed.

Gaara nodded, shifting his backpack on his shoulder.

“Did you find anything weird about the assignment questions,” asked Sakura as they settled in the kitchen. She poured their lemonade over ice and set the jug between them.

“Like?”

“Starting with the fact that Hatake gave us a dodecahedron dice.”

Gaara shrugged before opening his palm and setting the custom, resin-cast dice on the table.

Sakura paused. “That’s not the one he made us make.”

“It has the same number of sides.”

Sakura looked at him shrewdly before her eyes lit up.

“Which campaign? More importantly, what class?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb. Which series of D&D do you play?”

Gaara exhaled tiredly.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed. She clapped her hands excitedly. “Fifth edition is most common, so assuming you play that version—”

“Everyone plays that version—”

“Lemme guess, you’re—”

Gaara gave her a look before nodding at their assignment.

Sakura’s shoulders fell. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

Pushing his slippered feet into the linoleum, Gaara shifted his weight in his chair.

“You can show me your dice collection after. And talk campaigns after the assignment is done,” he said.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it with her. Knowing now for sure that she was into it, after suspecting it for some time, he wanted to speak with her even more. That was the problem. He wanted the assignment done, but at the same time, he needed it as an excuse to converse with her.

“We have to be together when we roll the dice for each of the events, and talk through what our strategies are,” recited Sakura from their instructions.

“I printed off the questions and events.”

“Me, too.”

He nodded and offered her the dice first.

“You roll. Even we’re married, odd we’re single.”

Sakura rolled.

“12.”

“Married - strong relationship,” read Gaara from the notes. “Why do we have a strong marriage relationship?”

“... common interests?”

Gaara nodded, writing it down.

“And good communication.”

Gaara nodded again, still writing.
“Your turn to roll. Even we have kids, odd we don’t. If it’s even, we roll again to see how many.”

“Six.” He rolled again. Paused. “Eleven.”

They stared at each other. Sakura flushed.

“I guess we can add that we have great bedroom chemistry to question number one,” she tried to joke.

Gaara was frozen, however, the back of his neck blazing, the heat glowing on his normally pale skin.

“Moving right along,” mumbled Sakura, reaching for the dice. “Oh, now we get to roll for our jobs. I’ll roll for mine first. Seven. Doctor.”

“Nice,” said Gaara, picking up the dice. “Seven. Doctor.”

“Maybe we met in med school?” she teased.

“No wonder we can afford so many kids,” he said softly.

Sakura laughed aloud before remembering, “Oh, what was our motivation for choosing this many kids and these jobs?”

“Money.”

“Works for me,” agreed Sakura, humming along. “Next question is a situation. A death in the family and how it affects us. Well this sounds like it’s going to suck. Depending on the number on the dice, we select from the list of people and consequences.” She rolled. “What does four mean?”

“Uncle died. You inherit his estate of three million and his debt of one point five million. Net result: gain of one point five million and a one hundred acre farm property.”

“Sorry uncle but thank you!” chuckled Sakura.

She glanced up from her notes and noticed Gaara hadn’t written any notes from their latest roll.

“Would you like to roll again? Did that not sound… right?” she asked him.

But Gaara couldn’t figure out what to say or how to respond.

It was just a stupid game for a stupid assignment.

It didn’t mean anything.

Sorry uncle but thank you.

“—ra? Gaara? Do you want me to re-roll the dice?” asked Sakura, slowly reaching for him. She touched the cuff of his shirt gently but the sensation was so foreign that Gaara panicked, ripping his arm from her grasp.

“Forget it,” he bit out, chest heaving in spite of his attempts to regulate himself.

“Um. OK,” said Sakura. “Your turn.”

Ducking his head for a moment to catch his breath, Gaara forced himself to calm. When he tossed the dice next, he looked at the question instead of the dice for the answer.

“You’re hit with an unusual property tax bill. The number on the dice face indicates what percentage of your assets are taken.”

“Two,” said Sakura. “Could have been worse.”

“Ah,” he agreed. He pushed the dice towards her.

“Someone in your household needs surgery. How dangerous is it? The dice number will coincide with the list provided,” read Sakura. “This assignment sucks. Eight.”

“Roll again.”

“That bad, huh?”

Gaara nodded.

“Ten.”

Gaara remained expressionless and Sakura sighed. “One of us didn’t make it, huh?”

“You or one of the kids.”

Sakura’s hand froze as she reached for the dice again. “One of the kids?”

Gaara nodded.

“Me, then,” said Sakura.

“Why?”

“Why not? I’d rather suffer than have my kid suffer, if I was a parent, I think. You could always marry again and have more kids without me. You and the kids could still find happiness.”

“Without you?”

“Yes.”

Gaara looked at their earlier scores. He lifted the sheet. “Does this look like a man who would ever find happiness again without you in his life?”

Sakura blinked.

“You have a point… But I think it would still be better if the parent takes the hit rather than the kid. Parents often divorce or blame each other, if they lose a child,” said Sakura. “Statistically speaking.”

“I think we could use this question as an example that we diverged in our thought processes,” said Gaara.

“Good idea.”

It was quieter for the next while as they worked through the following questions.

What car did they drive?
How did they afford their first house?

Did they give to charity, and if so, how much?

Did they choose to foster children later in life? If so, how many?

What did they do when the kitchen stove broke on Christmas day?

“Beat it with a wrench,” wrote Sakura.

“Suffused it with explosives,” wrote Gaara.

Sakura’s lips curled into a grin as she read his answer. “Neither of us thought to try and fix it.”

“Does that surprise you?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

He smirked.

An hour or so later, Gaara’s stomach betrayed him by braying with hunger.

Sakura flushed as she looked at the clock. “Sorry, I lost track of time.”

Gaara shook his head. “It’s alright. We don’t need to finish everything at once. I’ll call my sister for a ride.” He glanced around. “Are your parents coming home soon for supper?”

“I was going to grab a bite from the ramen stop downstairs in the main lobby. Want some? It’s the best in Konoha.”

“Ramen?”

“It’s really good, I promise! I’ll cover yours,” she offered. “Grab your things and when we finish you can call Temari to swing by.”

For a moment, he stood, watching her. Then, with a slow nod, Gaara packed up his things, following Sakura out. She locked her apartment door behind her.

True to her word, Sakura paid for his bowl of ramen and Gaara vowed to repay the favour for it truly was the best noodle soup he’d ever devoured—and he went through three that evening.

Sakura grinned at him over her steaming bowl. “Told ya.”

Gaara shook his head but smirked. “I’m two up on you.”

“Savour it! It’s so good!”

“Does Naruto have a challenger?” asked Teuchi, the chef, from behind the stand’s counter. He smiled at her over the roll of pork belly he was wrapping with string to prepare for the next day’s chashu pork and broth.

“Possibly,” said Sakura. “Thank you for saving us some food.”

Sakura’s sneaker deftly whacked Gaara’s shin under the counter.

“Thank you very much,” Gaara choked out, mid-swallow.

He glared at her out of the corner of his eye for a brief moment before returning to the food.

“Anytime,” said Teuchi.

Finishing her bowl, Sakura nudged her bowl out of her way, wiped the counter in front of her, and relaxed, resting on her forearms.

“We did a lot today,” she said, smiling at Gaara.

He nodded, ‘savouring’ his soup so as to avoid answering. Not that he wanted their time together to end; he found the notion of leaving irksome. But he wasn’t sure how to extend the conversation in a way that wouldn’t sound awkward.

Sakura saved him, again.

“You should check out the clubs and extracurriculars at school,” she suggested. “You could meet a few more of us. We may not be the best school in terms of bullying and shitty behaviour, but we do have some really good people.”

Gaara watched her over his steaming noodles, considering her words.

“Is that why you’re busy so often after school?”

“That and work,” she said, nodding. “And volunteering.”

His brows drew together. When did she rest?

“We have a mandatory 50-hour volunteer requirement to graduate,” explained Sakura. “Your old school didn’t have this?”

Gaara shook his head.

50 hours.

“I did mine already, but sometimes I still go in to help out during their busy periods. Christmas, holidays, things like that,” Sakura went on. “And work is work. I try to fit in my extracurriculars and clubs during school hours, but some, like dance committee or the enviro team, usually happen after school, so,” she shrugged. She pressed her face into her shoulder to stifle her yawn. “Sorry. Had to get up early today to fit in my workout before class, since we were meeting after.”

Gaara looked down into the third bowl of soup he’d been enjoying while she had been struggling to stay awake. He felt like a heel suddenly for not recognizing how tired she was.

“You don’t need to stay,” he said. He pulled out his phone. “I’ll call Temari.”

“No! Eat, enjoy it! It’s my treat,” said Sakura, straightening up. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have complained. Working with you has been good.”

His movements slowed to a stop as she touched his sleeve again. She released him and retracted her hand immediately, but he couldn’t stop looking at the spot on his cuff where she’d taken hold of him. Was that the second time that day? Third?

“Sorry, I’m more touchy-feely than you’re maybe used to,” muttered Sakura, her chin dipping and cheeks warming. She planted her hands in her lap, wringing her fingers.

There was a beat of silence before Teuchi called warmly from over the counter, “It’s because of your great heart, Sakura! Never change!”

Sakura rubbed her red face as Teuchi teased her gently before she turned to Gaara again, only to find him watching her carefully.

With that, he texted Temari before returning to finish his soup. Sakura stayed with him, occasionally chatting about this or that event at school, or a fundraiser, or how funny it was that their assignment had chosen medical careers for them both.

He glanced at her, brows raised before she confessed, “I’m aiming for med school to become a doctor.”

Spotting Temari’s BMW lights turning onto Sakura’s street now that darkness had fallen like a blanket over the city, Gaara lay down enough money on the counter to cover all his food, and hers.

“Never change,” agreed Gaara quietly.

Then he left, nodding to her and Teuchi as the bell over the door tinkled his goodbye.

###

TBC