Of runaways and caffeine addicted demons [GaaSaku]
I got a very much expected package via FedEx today... my lovely sistah zelha sent me this very lovely item:
IT'S GAARA'S GOURD AND IT'S GORGEOUS!!! ♥_______♥
Sis, I simply cannot thank you enough! I love it sooo much. And am naturally using it as a purse.
Thus, as a way of saying thank you, I wrote this one-shot it's too long to be a drabble for my ivol!twin. ♥
~***~
The guy had to live in the neighbourhood. There was no going around it. She’d seen him at the coffee house every single day. If she didn’t know any better, Sakura would’ve thought he lived there.
Of course, if she considered things from his perspective, he could’ve said the same thing about her.
The pink haired fugitive had arrived in the city the week before. Cradled among the mists of the surrounding moorlands, it was the perfect destination for those who didn’t want to be found. Like herself. It was big enough to be a hiding place but not large enough to be called a metropolis. Compared to the Capital, Fog Gate was just a little egg nestled in the far uninviting north of the country.
A bizarre little egg, as a matter of fact, made up of many types of strange eggshells all glued together. The city was famous for allowing people to start anew, no questions asked. Therefore, it was no surprise for folks of all kinds to gravitate towards it and find small niches in which to fit in. In simple terms, Fog Gate was an outcast’s refuge. It offered shelter to all those who had been rejected someplace else and who, grudgingly or not, wanted to sever all ties to their past.
For Sakura, the city had been a godsend. Even if someone were to look for her here, the citizens would give them a very difficult time. Answers were never given if it could be helped and anyone who came around asking suspicious questions was immediately noted. Outsiders who prodded too much into other people’s business were always unwelcome. Outcast helped outcast; it was an unspoken law. If not, inquisitive strangers were quickly reminded of why the city’s inhabitants had been sent away in the first place.
All in all, her efficiency was something Sakura had been proud of. In just under a week she had found a suitable job and a place to live. It was just a one room apartment (conveniently located above the coffee house) with no stove or microwave but it was clean and didn’t have a leaky roof. She could not ask for more. Moreover, she could afford 3 months’ rent from the savings she’d brought with her. In her haste, she hadn’t had time to access her bank accounts and in truth, she hadn’t dared. Going into a bank and politely asking to withdraw all her money would’ve have been like placing a blinking neon sign above her head.
She could just imagine it, big and yellow, floating a few inches above her head: RUNAWAY SCIENCE RESEARCHER WITH A BIG SECRET.
No, she would have to make do with the money she had. At least the job she’d found as a receptionist at a local doctor’s office was unremarkable enough. The man was a second-class medic but did his job as best as he could. No one in their right minds would look for her, Haruno Sakura, award-winning genetic scientist, in his shabby second-floor office.
Sakura knew she had been extremely lucky to escape with her life. The laboratory had been burned down during the night. She hadn’t been in it exclusively because Ino had begged her to go out for dinner. When she got the news sometime during the early morning hours, she felt a very eerie chill run along the entire surface of her skin. She knew she had discovered something big... just not this big.
Tsunade-sama had ordered all of them to lay low, to disappear as best as they could until she could gather more information and do something about the ominous enemy hiding in the shadows. Sakura had protested loudly but her mentor would have none of it. She wasn’t about to let her best student and most prized researcher be murdered in cold blood on the street. Sakura was forced to pack her things and left 2 days later, heading towards Fog Gate without looking back.
Now, all she could do was wait until some kind of news came her way. She was sure something would show up in the newspaper or on the evening reports even here in the north. There was nothing to do but grit her teeth through the pangs of fear that came and went and be patient.
That and wonder with open curiosity about the strange chakra emanations coming from the redheaded man sitting by the window.
Forced to seek some alternative means of procuring food due to the lack of cooking appliances in her newly acquired apartment, she had been forced to eat her dinners at the coffee house downstairs. The food was good, though not exactly healthy, but she would have to make do until the weekend when she could go and buy some household equipment. The doctor had asked her to start her job right away and, considering the situation she was in, she wasn’t about to decline. In typical Fog Gate fashion, the man had not asked too many questions in regards to her naturally faked credentials. After making sure she knew some pharmaceutical basics and was experienced with giving first aid, he welcomed her onboard. The pay was obviously a meagre fraction of what she used to make but it was enough to live by. She was not about to complain.
Something her stomach was doing in that very instant. She was waiting for the fish sandwich she had ordered to arrive, cradling a cup of strong tea in her hands. Her drink wasn’t doing much to stifle her hunger. She’d eaten some crackers for lunch (the only thing available in her cupboard) and was, as expected, starving by the time she got off work. One could only hope the waitress would hurry up.
In an attempt to diverge her attention from her bubbling gastric acids, she turned her emerald eyes towards the redhead once more. Sitting to one side of the coffee house, she had a clear view of the door and of the adjacent tables by the windows. He was sitting at one of these, a cup of espresso (his third since she had arrived) near his hand while he read the newspaper. Sakura wondered if he drank the coffee as a kind of addictive fix or if he did it to prevent himself from sleeping. Whatever the case, it was evident the man wasn’t getting much rest. There were dark rims around his eyes and he looked a bit pale. She didn’t know if he stayed at the coffee house until it closed around midnight; she had left before he had every night. He’d sit at his table (it wasn’t always the same one, though), not talking to anyone except for the waitress whenever she came along to ask him if he wanted another espresso. He always said yes.
The man was undoubtedly handsome. His features were chiselled and the dark rings around his eyes made his already bright jade eyes stand out even more. He wore a navy blue sweat-jacket, a black t-shirt underneath and a pair of jeans. From her vantage point, she could tell he was in shape, something that wasn’t exactly concordant with his worn-out complexion. But what caught her attention above everything else were the strange wisps of chakra that circled him, encasing his body in a fluctuating cocoon.
As a precaution, she always made sure to activate her chakra-sight whenever she entered a building; it was a certified way to know if there was someone suspicious around that might be trailing her. Not many people were gifted with chakra-sight and it was one of the reasons why she was such a prized researcher. Thus, when she went into the coffee house for the first time, the redheaded man had looked like a burning torch in her vision. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint the colour of the wisps; they were unquestionably bright but shifted in hue constantly. It was as if he was made of two entities that were in constant battle with each other and could not reconcile their differences. This was, quite obviously, complete and utter lunacy. There weren’t two redheaded men sitting before her; there was just one.
Because of this, all of Sakura’s empirical curiosity came to the fore like a tidal wave. She had done all she could to prevent herself from going up to his table and overwhelm him with a scientific questionnaire. It was inevitable to remind herself that she was not a researcher in this city; she had left that life behind. She was now a receptionist at a doctor’s private office and hence, had absolutely no inclination towards medical investigations... even if these had the objective of finding the cure to a countless number of terminal diseases.
She let out a long loud breath. Damn, she missed her job so much.
Besides, if she went up to the redhead and started badgering him with questions, she’d be kicked out the door before she could blink twice thanks to the unspoken code of Fog Gate. It was exactly this kind of questioning that she herself was avoiding so she couldn’t exactly whine about it, could she? If she was being offered a cloak of protection then she should at least show the same courtesy. Furthermore, the redhead looked innocent enough but Sakura had seen him flex his metaphorical claws. A passing customer, hustling and bustling with his backpack, had bumped into his table accidentally and spilled his espresso. The change in the redhead’s jade eyes was akin to seeing mercury shift. He went from calmly reading the paper to lethally angry in nanoseconds. The murderous intent in his gaze made Sakura flinch even though she was sitting some distance away. She might not have had her chakra-sight activated but in that moment, she didn’t need it. The waves of ire rolling off him were entirely palpable. The other man could only whimper out an apology and run for the door.
The redhead had bared his teeth in the man’s direction before rolling his shoulders and going back to his paper. The deadly energy he had been emanating suddenly disappeared and everything returned to normal. The waitress had walked up to the table to clean the spill and tsked at him while shaking her head.
Sakura thought she was the bravest woman she had ever encountered.
Instead of lashing out, the redhead grinned at her deviously and shrugged. Another cup of espresso was brought to his table soon after.
The whole incident had helped Sakura to re-affirm her conclusion of staying away from him.
The waitress finally approached her with her fish sandwich and offered to refill her tea cup. Sakura gracefully accepted, almost snatching her food off the plate before the woman could place it on the table. She munched gloriously on her sandwich, feeling it was a meal fit for kings in that instant. Sitting back in contentment as she chewed, she pulled out paper and pen from her satchel.
It was time she jot down her grocery list and get on with her supposedly mundane existence.
XXXXXXXXX
She was watching him again
.
It wasn’t an intrusive vigilance... it was more like intriguing. The girl was openly curious about him even though he had absolutely no idea of why that should be so. Used to people actually avoiding him openly, her reaction was proving to be equally interesting to him. Gaara conceded that much. It was the sole reason why he’d let Shukaku convince him into staying at the coffee house longer than usual for the past few days and visiting it much more often than he usually did.
The demon didn’t actually talk inside his mind but that wasn’t a detriment when voicing an opinion. Shukaku could be very expressive whenever it felt strongly about something. It conveyed its messages quite effectively and was impossible to ignore. Communicating through emotions and instinct, the demon’s ways of getting a point across were louder than words. And since the first moment he’d laid eyes on the pink haired girl, Shukaku had made his keen interest in Sakura very plain.
So much so that Gaara had been reduced to the role of pseudo-stalker: waiting at the coffee shop until she came in after work to eat her dinner. Naturally, the sand demon had nagged him until he asked Anko, the waitress, about the girl. Due to the nature of Fog Gate, new people appearing almost on a daily basis was something usual and it was normal for the permanent residents to show some sort of curiosity as long as it wasn’t too probing. This was the lucky reason Anko didn’t make much of his question.
“She arrived just last week,” she’d told him as she brought him yet another coffee fix. “She’s the new tenant upstairs. Genma, the idiot, sneaked in to knick the microwave last month so he could have an extra one down here in the kitchen and left the apartment without anything. She’s been forced to eat almost all her meals here, the poor thing. The moron said that she didn’t complain about it when he handed her the keys so there was no reason to return the microwave. Can you believe the scum?”
She’d gone over to another table then, leaving Gaara to his thoughts. It wasn’t long before Shukaku started threatening him, making it clear it wanted to be here every evening when she came in to eat. The redhead would’ve reminded the demon of its place but the way the girl had looked at him came to the fore. Her emerald eyes had seen him... truly seen him, as if he were an intriguing person she wanted to get to know and not a demonic abomination.
Still, this didn’t mean he was going to impose on her with his iniquitous presence. That would be going too far. Besides, Shukaku needed to be reminded of its limits. It could sway Gaara to action but only to a certain extent. He had spent most of his life going through serious training to gain a position of power over the demon he shared his body with and he wasn’t about to relinquish it. Thus, he would sit at the coffee house, providing Shukaku with the espresso it craved so much, and observe the girl. Thankfully, due to his permanent demonic resident, this didn’t imply looking at her directly. The sand demon’s perception was a great deal more developed than his, increasing the radius of his awareness greatly. He could sense a great deal of things at a distance.
Gaara was very aware of her hunger, of her tiredness and above all, of her curiosity.
But that was as much as he would allow. He didn’t care if Shukaku wasn’t satisfied with this and wanted to get closer to the girl. The impulses he felt from the demon were bizarre, something he had never felt it emanate before... all the more reason to treat them with caution. The redhead knew the fiend well and was too aware of its capacity for bloodshed and its erratic cravings for violence. He wasn’t about to expose the girl to them if he could help it. Nonetheless, the urges the demon was radiating in regards to her were different; it was as if the girl was pulling at Shukaku (and consequently Gaara) in a way the demon could not help responding to. He had risked opening his mind to the demon’s impulses once and was overcome with the urge to wrap himself around the girl and never let go.
Needless to say, the experience had left him intensely shaken and thrown off balance. He was not repeating it if he could help it. It wouldn’t do to explore such urges further... Shukaku was behaving in unpredictable ways and Gaara didn’t trust his control over these highly unexpected emotions.
He would have to make a visit to the temple and ask Minato-sensei if a demon was capable of experiencing ‘touchy-feely’ impulses.
The redhead seriously doubted it... which meant he was finally, after years of sharing his body with a sand fiend, losing his mind.
All in all, Shukaku would have to make do with being in the same coffee house as the girl. Gaara refused to initiate any sort of contact. Besides, she had definitely made her way up here for a reason and, like most of the population, wanted to remain inconspicuous.
Respecting her wishes was the least he could do.
XXXXXXXXX
Donning her light jacket and swinging her satchel over her shoulder, Sakura was more than happy to call it a night. Her new job wasn’t exactly demanding but the stress and uncertainty she had lived for the past 2 weeks had taken its toll. Her sleep was always restless and her dreams, though not exactly nightmares, weren’t reassuring either. The exhaustion was accumulating and she should try to rest as much as she could whenever possible.
She was looking forward to a long hot shower up in her apartment as she walked towards the door, thanking the waitress again as she went. The redhead was seated at one of the window tables to the right of the door, reading his newspaper and taking no notice of her. She smiled wryly to herself, ready to walk out, when he lifted the paper to turn the page he had just finished reading.
Sakura stopped dead in her tracks, the bold black letters of the headline causing her heart to leap into her throat.
“ROOT LABORATORIES ACCUSED OF LEAKING INFORMATION TO TERRORIST FACTION.”
Before she could think twice about it, she veered towards his table and bumped slightly against it in her haste.
Luckily, his espresso cup was empty.
Jade eyes blinked a couple of time before he lifted his gaze up to her.
Sakura swallowed visibly at the intensity of his stare but her frantic need gave her courage. “I know this is going to sound strange but do you think you could lend me that sheet you were just reading?”
The man looked at her curiously for a couple of seconds as if debating with himself. Then, without saying a word, he separated the sheet from the rest of the paper and placed it on the table, sliding it across towards the empty chair in front of him. He nodded towards the vacant seat.
Sakura didn’t know what to make of his behaviour but she didn’t care. She plopped down on the chair and made to grab the paper. The redhead’s hand did not lift from the sheet until she was completely seated.
Her emerald eyes devoured the words she was reading and disbelief clouded her features.
Gaara was very much aware that something had greatly upset her. He was conscious of the exact moment when her composed attitude had turned into chaotic turmoil. He had been allowed to contemplate the possibilities of what had disturbed her for only a few short moments. The way she had matter-of-factly asked for the newssheet had made the answer obvious.
‘So much for keeping her secrets safe,’ he thought dryly. It was more than evident that she was new at this hiding game. She would have to build up her skills if she wanted to remain completely anonymous. It was true that Fog Gate was a haven for outcasts and its people would never sell anyone out but this didn’t mean it was completely secure. He’d have to teach her a thing or two.
The redhead caught himself on that last thought, incredulity and irritation flowing through him. It didn’t take a genius to realize where the impulse had come from. He gave Shukaku a mental kick and forced it to back down. It had already done enough by urging Gaara to leave her no option but to sit down to read at his table.
Now that the girl was actually in front of him, the demon wanted nothing more than to pounce on her. The objective of this action was lost on Gaara; what the fiend would do after he pounced remained unclear. Therefore, he would do his best to keep their interaction completely casual and civilized.
Jade eyes surveyed her as she read, taking in the widening of her eyes and the changes in her expression. His conclusion when seeing her for the first time held true: the woman was beautiful. True, the hue of her hair wasn’t exactly standard but she had her right to her eccentricities. Besides, it didn’t seem like it was dyed (like most of those who boasted roseate locks), so it meant she hadn’t had much of a choice when it came to hair colour.
By the time she finished reading, the anxiety she was emanating escalated greatly and she looked somewhat paler.
“Disturbing news, I take it,” he offered, cocking his head to one side as he gazed at her.
Sakura had to control herself at the sound of his voice. It wasn’t fair for a man to speak in such velvety tones. Especially not when, despite being a stranger, she noted genuine concern in his words.
“Yes, well,” she said, waving her hand casually in the air and not looking him in the eye, “it wasn’t exactly unexpected.”
It was all she could do to prevent herself from breaking down into desperate laughter.
Gaara duly noted her unease and, despite himself, allowed Shukaku to sway him into distracting her.
“That happened in the Capital,” he commented, nodding towards the sheet on the table. “You’re a long way from home.”
“Indeed,” she replied, biting her lip. Her nervous fingers started crumpling the corners of the newssheet. “A long way from home is good in this instance.”
“I guess that’s the case for all of us here.”
She looked up at him then, emerald eyes boring into him. “Are you far away from home too, then?”
“A lot farther than you,” he replied with a cynical smirk, “if you consider the place where you were born home. I don’t, you see. Fog Gate is where I live now.”
She nodded understanding. Her eyes surveyed his face for a moment, quietly considering, as if she wanted to make up her mind about something. In the end, it seemed she did.
“I’m Sakura,” she said, offering her hand.
The redhead silently wondered if it was her real name. It was a common enough name for there to be no real need to actually hide it. Her last name would most likely present more of a clue of who she was, hence, she didn’t offer it.
“Gaara,” he replied, lifting his hand to take hers.
It was the worst thing he could’ve done.
“Nice to meet you,” she returned with a smile, completely oblivious to the whooping howls of triumph Shukaku elicited when their skins touched.
They weren’t exactly howls per se, more of an elated wave of conquest accompanied by thrills of dark delight. He took back his earlier conclusion: he wasn’t the one losing his mind... it was the damned demon that was going insane! As he let go of Sakura’s hand, the redhead trampled the emotional assault as best as he could lest it show on his face and he ended up scaring the living daylights out of the unsuspecting woman in front of him.
“You come here often, right?” Sakura supplied conversationally.
‘Every damned day since you got here,’ he thought deprecatingly. Out loud, he said, “Yes. I’m very fond of the coffee here.”
“Yeah, I kind of noticed.” She nodded towards the empty cup of espresso.
He graced her with his wry grin once more but didn’t supply anything else.
They shared a moment of silence, awkward in it not being uncomfortable in the least. Sakura finally let out a deep breath and decided to make her exit.
“Well, I’ve got to get going,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
He nodded in assent.
“Thanks for lending me the paper,” she offered as she stood up from her chair.
“No problem at all.”
She gave out a chuckle as she turned towards the door, stopping for a moment and looking at him over her shoulder. “I’m glad we made each other’s acquaintance. You may not say much but, being a new in town, I’m happy I have someone to talk to now.”
With that, she made her way out and left him sitting there with his empty cup, looking as dark and mysterious as ever. She wondered how long it would take before he asked for another caffeine refill.
Gaara saw her open the ground door to her apartment to one side of the coffee house. Straining his perception, he heard her climb a flight of steps and open another door upstairs.
He couldn’t decide if the events that had just transpired were a good or bad thing.
Shukaku’s opinion in that regard was perfectly evident. The sand fiend was gloating, curled up in a corner, content as a recently fed cat. What was even stranger was the fact that he seemed to be of a similar mind with the demon. Speaking with Sakura after trailing her for a few days had left him feeling strangely lightheaded and pleased. Was the sand monster’s insanity contagious?
Gaara would have to make that visit to the temple very soon. He didn’t know how long he would be able to cope with Shukaku in this state. It was unchartered territory and when it came to the demon, he needed to have sure footing or else all hell could break lose.
He’d faced many threats during his life, faced death and destruction without flinching. But this new menace was starting to make him feel rather uneasy.
After all, he’d never faced a pink haired assailant with gorgeous emerald eyes before.
~***~
I'm kind of happy with how Shukaku turned out. xD I might just have to turn him into a character in a future fic.
IT'S GAARA'S GOURD AND IT'S GORGEOUS!!! ♥_______♥
Sis, I simply cannot thank you enough! I love it sooo much. And am naturally using it as a purse.
Thus, as a way of saying thank you, I wrote this one-shot it's too long to be a drabble for my ivol!twin. ♥
~***~
The guy had to live in the neighbourhood. There was no going around it. She’d seen him at the coffee house every single day. If she didn’t know any better, Sakura would’ve thought he lived there.
Of course, if she considered things from his perspective, he could’ve said the same thing about her.
The pink haired fugitive had arrived in the city the week before. Cradled among the mists of the surrounding moorlands, it was the perfect destination for those who didn’t want to be found. Like herself. It was big enough to be a hiding place but not large enough to be called a metropolis. Compared to the Capital, Fog Gate was just a little egg nestled in the far uninviting north of the country.
A bizarre little egg, as a matter of fact, made up of many types of strange eggshells all glued together. The city was famous for allowing people to start anew, no questions asked. Therefore, it was no surprise for folks of all kinds to gravitate towards it and find small niches in which to fit in. In simple terms, Fog Gate was an outcast’s refuge. It offered shelter to all those who had been rejected someplace else and who, grudgingly or not, wanted to sever all ties to their past.
For Sakura, the city had been a godsend. Even if someone were to look for her here, the citizens would give them a very difficult time. Answers were never given if it could be helped and anyone who came around asking suspicious questions was immediately noted. Outsiders who prodded too much into other people’s business were always unwelcome. Outcast helped outcast; it was an unspoken law. If not, inquisitive strangers were quickly reminded of why the city’s inhabitants had been sent away in the first place.
All in all, her efficiency was something Sakura had been proud of. In just under a week she had found a suitable job and a place to live. It was just a one room apartment (conveniently located above the coffee house) with no stove or microwave but it was clean and didn’t have a leaky roof. She could not ask for more. Moreover, she could afford 3 months’ rent from the savings she’d brought with her. In her haste, she hadn’t had time to access her bank accounts and in truth, she hadn’t dared. Going into a bank and politely asking to withdraw all her money would’ve have been like placing a blinking neon sign above her head.
She could just imagine it, big and yellow, floating a few inches above her head: RUNAWAY SCIENCE RESEARCHER WITH A BIG SECRET.
No, she would have to make do with the money she had. At least the job she’d found as a receptionist at a local doctor’s office was unremarkable enough. The man was a second-class medic but did his job as best as he could. No one in their right minds would look for her, Haruno Sakura, award-winning genetic scientist, in his shabby second-floor office.
Sakura knew she had been extremely lucky to escape with her life. The laboratory had been burned down during the night. She hadn’t been in it exclusively because Ino had begged her to go out for dinner. When she got the news sometime during the early morning hours, she felt a very eerie chill run along the entire surface of her skin. She knew she had discovered something big... just not this big.
Tsunade-sama had ordered all of them to lay low, to disappear as best as they could until she could gather more information and do something about the ominous enemy hiding in the shadows. Sakura had protested loudly but her mentor would have none of it. She wasn’t about to let her best student and most prized researcher be murdered in cold blood on the street. Sakura was forced to pack her things and left 2 days later, heading towards Fog Gate without looking back.
Now, all she could do was wait until some kind of news came her way. She was sure something would show up in the newspaper or on the evening reports even here in the north. There was nothing to do but grit her teeth through the pangs of fear that came and went and be patient.
That and wonder with open curiosity about the strange chakra emanations coming from the redheaded man sitting by the window.
Forced to seek some alternative means of procuring food due to the lack of cooking appliances in her newly acquired apartment, she had been forced to eat her dinners at the coffee house downstairs. The food was good, though not exactly healthy, but she would have to make do until the weekend when she could go and buy some household equipment. The doctor had asked her to start her job right away and, considering the situation she was in, she wasn’t about to decline. In typical Fog Gate fashion, the man had not asked too many questions in regards to her naturally faked credentials. After making sure she knew some pharmaceutical basics and was experienced with giving first aid, he welcomed her onboard. The pay was obviously a meagre fraction of what she used to make but it was enough to live by. She was not about to complain.
Something her stomach was doing in that very instant. She was waiting for the fish sandwich she had ordered to arrive, cradling a cup of strong tea in her hands. Her drink wasn’t doing much to stifle her hunger. She’d eaten some crackers for lunch (the only thing available in her cupboard) and was, as expected, starving by the time she got off work. One could only hope the waitress would hurry up.
In an attempt to diverge her attention from her bubbling gastric acids, she turned her emerald eyes towards the redhead once more. Sitting to one side of the coffee house, she had a clear view of the door and of the adjacent tables by the windows. He was sitting at one of these, a cup of espresso (his third since she had arrived) near his hand while he read the newspaper. Sakura wondered if he drank the coffee as a kind of addictive fix or if he did it to prevent himself from sleeping. Whatever the case, it was evident the man wasn’t getting much rest. There were dark rims around his eyes and he looked a bit pale. She didn’t know if he stayed at the coffee house until it closed around midnight; she had left before he had every night. He’d sit at his table (it wasn’t always the same one, though), not talking to anyone except for the waitress whenever she came along to ask him if he wanted another espresso. He always said yes.
The man was undoubtedly handsome. His features were chiselled and the dark rings around his eyes made his already bright jade eyes stand out even more. He wore a navy blue sweat-jacket, a black t-shirt underneath and a pair of jeans. From her vantage point, she could tell he was in shape, something that wasn’t exactly concordant with his worn-out complexion. But what caught her attention above everything else were the strange wisps of chakra that circled him, encasing his body in a fluctuating cocoon.
As a precaution, she always made sure to activate her chakra-sight whenever she entered a building; it was a certified way to know if there was someone suspicious around that might be trailing her. Not many people were gifted with chakra-sight and it was one of the reasons why she was such a prized researcher. Thus, when she went into the coffee house for the first time, the redheaded man had looked like a burning torch in her vision. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint the colour of the wisps; they were unquestionably bright but shifted in hue constantly. It was as if he was made of two entities that were in constant battle with each other and could not reconcile their differences. This was, quite obviously, complete and utter lunacy. There weren’t two redheaded men sitting before her; there was just one.
Because of this, all of Sakura’s empirical curiosity came to the fore like a tidal wave. She had done all she could to prevent herself from going up to his table and overwhelm him with a scientific questionnaire. It was inevitable to remind herself that she was not a researcher in this city; she had left that life behind. She was now a receptionist at a doctor’s private office and hence, had absolutely no inclination towards medical investigations... even if these had the objective of finding the cure to a countless number of terminal diseases.
She let out a long loud breath. Damn, she missed her job so much.
Besides, if she went up to the redhead and started badgering him with questions, she’d be kicked out the door before she could blink twice thanks to the unspoken code of Fog Gate. It was exactly this kind of questioning that she herself was avoiding so she couldn’t exactly whine about it, could she? If she was being offered a cloak of protection then she should at least show the same courtesy. Furthermore, the redhead looked innocent enough but Sakura had seen him flex his metaphorical claws. A passing customer, hustling and bustling with his backpack, had bumped into his table accidentally and spilled his espresso. The change in the redhead’s jade eyes was akin to seeing mercury shift. He went from calmly reading the paper to lethally angry in nanoseconds. The murderous intent in his gaze made Sakura flinch even though she was sitting some distance away. She might not have had her chakra-sight activated but in that moment, she didn’t need it. The waves of ire rolling off him were entirely palpable. The other man could only whimper out an apology and run for the door.
The redhead had bared his teeth in the man’s direction before rolling his shoulders and going back to his paper. The deadly energy he had been emanating suddenly disappeared and everything returned to normal. The waitress had walked up to the table to clean the spill and tsked at him while shaking her head.
Sakura thought she was the bravest woman she had ever encountered.
Instead of lashing out, the redhead grinned at her deviously and shrugged. Another cup of espresso was brought to his table soon after.
The whole incident had helped Sakura to re-affirm her conclusion of staying away from him.
The waitress finally approached her with her fish sandwich and offered to refill her tea cup. Sakura gracefully accepted, almost snatching her food off the plate before the woman could place it on the table. She munched gloriously on her sandwich, feeling it was a meal fit for kings in that instant. Sitting back in contentment as she chewed, she pulled out paper and pen from her satchel.
It was time she jot down her grocery list and get on with her supposedly mundane existence.
XXXXXXXXX
She was watching him again
.
It wasn’t an intrusive vigilance... it was more like intriguing. The girl was openly curious about him even though he had absolutely no idea of why that should be so. Used to people actually avoiding him openly, her reaction was proving to be equally interesting to him. Gaara conceded that much. It was the sole reason why he’d let Shukaku convince him into staying at the coffee house longer than usual for the past few days and visiting it much more often than he usually did.
The demon didn’t actually talk inside his mind but that wasn’t a detriment when voicing an opinion. Shukaku could be very expressive whenever it felt strongly about something. It conveyed its messages quite effectively and was impossible to ignore. Communicating through emotions and instinct, the demon’s ways of getting a point across were louder than words. And since the first moment he’d laid eyes on the pink haired girl, Shukaku had made his keen interest in Sakura very plain.
So much so that Gaara had been reduced to the role of pseudo-stalker: waiting at the coffee shop until she came in after work to eat her dinner. Naturally, the sand demon had nagged him until he asked Anko, the waitress, about the girl. Due to the nature of Fog Gate, new people appearing almost on a daily basis was something usual and it was normal for the permanent residents to show some sort of curiosity as long as it wasn’t too probing. This was the lucky reason Anko didn’t make much of his question.
“She arrived just last week,” she’d told him as she brought him yet another coffee fix. “She’s the new tenant upstairs. Genma, the idiot, sneaked in to knick the microwave last month so he could have an extra one down here in the kitchen and left the apartment without anything. She’s been forced to eat almost all her meals here, the poor thing. The moron said that she didn’t complain about it when he handed her the keys so there was no reason to return the microwave. Can you believe the scum?”
She’d gone over to another table then, leaving Gaara to his thoughts. It wasn’t long before Shukaku started threatening him, making it clear it wanted to be here every evening when she came in to eat. The redhead would’ve reminded the demon of its place but the way the girl had looked at him came to the fore. Her emerald eyes had seen him... truly seen him, as if he were an intriguing person she wanted to get to know and not a demonic abomination.
Still, this didn’t mean he was going to impose on her with his iniquitous presence. That would be going too far. Besides, Shukaku needed to be reminded of its limits. It could sway Gaara to action but only to a certain extent. He had spent most of his life going through serious training to gain a position of power over the demon he shared his body with and he wasn’t about to relinquish it. Thus, he would sit at the coffee house, providing Shukaku with the espresso it craved so much, and observe the girl. Thankfully, due to his permanent demonic resident, this didn’t imply looking at her directly. The sand demon’s perception was a great deal more developed than his, increasing the radius of his awareness greatly. He could sense a great deal of things at a distance.
Gaara was very aware of her hunger, of her tiredness and above all, of her curiosity.
But that was as much as he would allow. He didn’t care if Shukaku wasn’t satisfied with this and wanted to get closer to the girl. The impulses he felt from the demon were bizarre, something he had never felt it emanate before... all the more reason to treat them with caution. The redhead knew the fiend well and was too aware of its capacity for bloodshed and its erratic cravings for violence. He wasn’t about to expose the girl to them if he could help it. Nonetheless, the urges the demon was radiating in regards to her were different; it was as if the girl was pulling at Shukaku (and consequently Gaara) in a way the demon could not help responding to. He had risked opening his mind to the demon’s impulses once and was overcome with the urge to wrap himself around the girl and never let go.
Needless to say, the experience had left him intensely shaken and thrown off balance. He was not repeating it if he could help it. It wouldn’t do to explore such urges further... Shukaku was behaving in unpredictable ways and Gaara didn’t trust his control over these highly unexpected emotions.
He would have to make a visit to the temple and ask Minato-sensei if a demon was capable of experiencing ‘touchy-feely’ impulses.
The redhead seriously doubted it... which meant he was finally, after years of sharing his body with a sand fiend, losing his mind.
All in all, Shukaku would have to make do with being in the same coffee house as the girl. Gaara refused to initiate any sort of contact. Besides, she had definitely made her way up here for a reason and, like most of the population, wanted to remain inconspicuous.
Respecting her wishes was the least he could do.
XXXXXXXXX
Donning her light jacket and swinging her satchel over her shoulder, Sakura was more than happy to call it a night. Her new job wasn’t exactly demanding but the stress and uncertainty she had lived for the past 2 weeks had taken its toll. Her sleep was always restless and her dreams, though not exactly nightmares, weren’t reassuring either. The exhaustion was accumulating and she should try to rest as much as she could whenever possible.
She was looking forward to a long hot shower up in her apartment as she walked towards the door, thanking the waitress again as she went. The redhead was seated at one of the window tables to the right of the door, reading his newspaper and taking no notice of her. She smiled wryly to herself, ready to walk out, when he lifted the paper to turn the page he had just finished reading.
Sakura stopped dead in her tracks, the bold black letters of the headline causing her heart to leap into her throat.
“ROOT LABORATORIES ACCUSED OF LEAKING INFORMATION TO TERRORIST FACTION.”
Before she could think twice about it, she veered towards his table and bumped slightly against it in her haste.
Luckily, his espresso cup was empty.
Jade eyes blinked a couple of time before he lifted his gaze up to her.
Sakura swallowed visibly at the intensity of his stare but her frantic need gave her courage. “I know this is going to sound strange but do you think you could lend me that sheet you were just reading?”
The man looked at her curiously for a couple of seconds as if debating with himself. Then, without saying a word, he separated the sheet from the rest of the paper and placed it on the table, sliding it across towards the empty chair in front of him. He nodded towards the vacant seat.
Sakura didn’t know what to make of his behaviour but she didn’t care. She plopped down on the chair and made to grab the paper. The redhead’s hand did not lift from the sheet until she was completely seated.
Her emerald eyes devoured the words she was reading and disbelief clouded her features.
Gaara was very much aware that something had greatly upset her. He was conscious of the exact moment when her composed attitude had turned into chaotic turmoil. He had been allowed to contemplate the possibilities of what had disturbed her for only a few short moments. The way she had matter-of-factly asked for the newssheet had made the answer obvious.
‘So much for keeping her secrets safe,’ he thought dryly. It was more than evident that she was new at this hiding game. She would have to build up her skills if she wanted to remain completely anonymous. It was true that Fog Gate was a haven for outcasts and its people would never sell anyone out but this didn’t mean it was completely secure. He’d have to teach her a thing or two.
The redhead caught himself on that last thought, incredulity and irritation flowing through him. It didn’t take a genius to realize where the impulse had come from. He gave Shukaku a mental kick and forced it to back down. It had already done enough by urging Gaara to leave her no option but to sit down to read at his table.
Now that the girl was actually in front of him, the demon wanted nothing more than to pounce on her. The objective of this action was lost on Gaara; what the fiend would do after he pounced remained unclear. Therefore, he would do his best to keep their interaction completely casual and civilized.
Jade eyes surveyed her as she read, taking in the widening of her eyes and the changes in her expression. His conclusion when seeing her for the first time held true: the woman was beautiful. True, the hue of her hair wasn’t exactly standard but she had her right to her eccentricities. Besides, it didn’t seem like it was dyed (like most of those who boasted roseate locks), so it meant she hadn’t had much of a choice when it came to hair colour.
By the time she finished reading, the anxiety she was emanating escalated greatly and she looked somewhat paler.
“Disturbing news, I take it,” he offered, cocking his head to one side as he gazed at her.
Sakura had to control herself at the sound of his voice. It wasn’t fair for a man to speak in such velvety tones. Especially not when, despite being a stranger, she noted genuine concern in his words.
“Yes, well,” she said, waving her hand casually in the air and not looking him in the eye, “it wasn’t exactly unexpected.”
It was all she could do to prevent herself from breaking down into desperate laughter.
Gaara duly noted her unease and, despite himself, allowed Shukaku to sway him into distracting her.
“That happened in the Capital,” he commented, nodding towards the sheet on the table. “You’re a long way from home.”
“Indeed,” she replied, biting her lip. Her nervous fingers started crumpling the corners of the newssheet. “A long way from home is good in this instance.”
“I guess that’s the case for all of us here.”
She looked up at him then, emerald eyes boring into him. “Are you far away from home too, then?”
“A lot farther than you,” he replied with a cynical smirk, “if you consider the place where you were born home. I don’t, you see. Fog Gate is where I live now.”
She nodded understanding. Her eyes surveyed his face for a moment, quietly considering, as if she wanted to make up her mind about something. In the end, it seemed she did.
“I’m Sakura,” she said, offering her hand.
The redhead silently wondered if it was her real name. It was a common enough name for there to be no real need to actually hide it. Her last name would most likely present more of a clue of who she was, hence, she didn’t offer it.
“Gaara,” he replied, lifting his hand to take hers.
It was the worst thing he could’ve done.
“Nice to meet you,” she returned with a smile, completely oblivious to the whooping howls of triumph Shukaku elicited when their skins touched.
They weren’t exactly howls per se, more of an elated wave of conquest accompanied by thrills of dark delight. He took back his earlier conclusion: he wasn’t the one losing his mind... it was the damned demon that was going insane! As he let go of Sakura’s hand, the redhead trampled the emotional assault as best as he could lest it show on his face and he ended up scaring the living daylights out of the unsuspecting woman in front of him.
“You come here often, right?” Sakura supplied conversationally.
‘Every damned day since you got here,’ he thought deprecatingly. Out loud, he said, “Yes. I’m very fond of the coffee here.”
“Yeah, I kind of noticed.” She nodded towards the empty cup of espresso.
He graced her with his wry grin once more but didn’t supply anything else.
They shared a moment of silence, awkward in it not being uncomfortable in the least. Sakura finally let out a deep breath and decided to make her exit.
“Well, I’ve got to get going,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
He nodded in assent.
“Thanks for lending me the paper,” she offered as she stood up from her chair.
“No problem at all.”
She gave out a chuckle as she turned towards the door, stopping for a moment and looking at him over her shoulder. “I’m glad we made each other’s acquaintance. You may not say much but, being a new in town, I’m happy I have someone to talk to now.”
With that, she made her way out and left him sitting there with his empty cup, looking as dark and mysterious as ever. She wondered how long it would take before he asked for another caffeine refill.
Gaara saw her open the ground door to her apartment to one side of the coffee house. Straining his perception, he heard her climb a flight of steps and open another door upstairs.
He couldn’t decide if the events that had just transpired were a good or bad thing.
Shukaku’s opinion in that regard was perfectly evident. The sand fiend was gloating, curled up in a corner, content as a recently fed cat. What was even stranger was the fact that he seemed to be of a similar mind with the demon. Speaking with Sakura after trailing her for a few days had left him feeling strangely lightheaded and pleased. Was the sand monster’s insanity contagious?
Gaara would have to make that visit to the temple very soon. He didn’t know how long he would be able to cope with Shukaku in this state. It was unchartered territory and when it came to the demon, he needed to have sure footing or else all hell could break lose.
He’d faced many threats during his life, faced death and destruction without flinching. But this new menace was starting to make him feel rather uneasy.
After all, he’d never faced a pink haired assailant with gorgeous emerald eyes before.
~***~
I'm kind of happy with how Shukaku turned out. xD I might just have to turn him into a character in a future fic.