Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Unraveling of a Dune ❯ Chapter 4

 

 

Unraveling of a Dune

PART IV

By: emeraldoni

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Doy (< that came all the way from 2nd grade. Mature, I know).

 

 

Gaara's eyes couldn't help but linger on the bustling figure in the kitchen. He had never, in all his years, imagined to have someone in the kitchen, cooking for him. Yet there she was, short-pink hair pulled back, loose strands framing her flushed face. Sakura even wore an apron, and though Gaara didn't care to admit it, it made him feel… something.

 

She turned her vibrant, fey eyes back to him and grinned, then waved him over, “Come taste this. Tell me if it needs anything else.”

 

He hadn't wanted her in there before, the musty place had seemed barren, a room he never wanted to enter. Yet, somehow his kunoichi had made the kitchen a place he didn't want to leave. This was probably his favorite room, at the moment.

 

“Hurry up. Don't be so slow!”

 

No one else would ever be able to talk to him that way, but Gaara didn't mind. It was almost refreshing, the fact that she did not fear him. She cared for him. She had even said so.

 

It showed in everything she did: bringing him a cup of tea when he was stressed, holding his hand, making him dinner, the way she looked at him… he could even feel it in the food he tasted at the moment—which was perfect, by the way.

 

“Good.” She said, “I was worried there was too much salt.”

 

He worried about her. He never wanted her to be hurt, to be afraid, to be anything but happy. Somehow she had calmed him, even Shukaku inside of him. It had seemed impossible, but hadn't she done impossible things before?

 

“Sakura…”

 

He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind her, nuzzling her neck as he found comfort. She never pushed him away, and always relaxed in his embrace. Her body soothed him when he felt the world tilting.

 

“Are you feeling tired? Maybe you should go rest on the couch.” The simmering supper had been forgotten as she shifted in his grip to face him. Her worried eyes stared up at his, and he felt everything would be okay, as long as she was around.

 

He didn't say anything to her question, just shook his head and rested it on her shoulder. He could gain enough energy by just being near her. It was a gift from her to him. She was a gift to him, a hope beyond hope, a dream that he could never imagine stepping into reality.

 

Yet not everything in reality is perfect, and that is why dreams are dreams, that was the first thing he had learned.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

Sakura sighed as she ambled down the near deserted street. The day had been long, and quite boring. Gaara had been busy with duties—duties which he had been neglecting. She would have found Naruto and Sasuke, but they were on a mission, never there when a fog of dullness settled in.

 

So she had puttered around with no purpose while the sun crossed the sky on its lazy pathway. Each moment seemed a year, and each minute seemed a decade. Eating had not done the trick, as neither did shopping or daydreaming. It seemed she was doomed to a quiet day of solitude.

 

It was almost over now, though, and the bored kunoichi rejoiced with the thought Gaara would be ready to go home.

 

Home…

 

She could hardly believe the time she spent with Gaara had reached the numerous amount it had. She was so…happy with him. Everything seemed to fast. She savored every second in his presence, every hour a holiday that brought more joy than all the real ones combined.

 

Of course, some things about him annoyed her, like his stubbornness, for one. He would just not let go of some of his ridiculous notions, like not letting her go anywhere, as though she would disappear when out of sight. Or the fact that he was a teensy bit… aggressive when other men were around her. She liked to say it was him being protective, but possessive was probably a better word for it.

 

And they weren't really together, either. Nothing had really happened. A few kisses every here and there, and the multitude of tender touches, but nothing like well… she blushed even thinking about it… sex.

 

So immersed in her thoughts, Sakura didn't even notice the dark setting she slipped through. She really had no reason to fear ally ways, she could over power even the strongest of men. At the moment though, she was completely unaware of her surroundings, so when the gen-jutsu caught her she was shocked.

 

Her limbs stiffened like boards as her muscles latched in odd positions. And at that moment, Sakura cursed her world with every phrase she knew, lamenting the day when she became so laid-back.

 

She glared furiously at the man stepping out of the shadows, a scraggly creature who she would like nothing more than to castrate. His leer burned into her memory, as his oily fingers traced disgusting patterns on her convulsing skin.

 

And the anger, such that she never knew before, turned to fear, for she couldn't even make a sound.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

Gaara stepped out of his office, striding through the hallways with an air of fatigue, though he hid it well. His gourd was strapped to his back, like usual, but he wished nothing more than to lean it against the wall, and lean himself against a certain kunoichi.

 

But when he strode into the rooms, she wasn't there. He knew, just passing through the doorway. Her scent was a little stale, and the place was completely silent. He shifted. Something wasn't right; she was always there, though normally she would meet him in his office. He could assume she was with her former teammates, but they weren't in Suna, they were quite a ways away.

 

And for the first time in his life, Gaara felt fear. This wasn't the shallow fear of his own pain or death, but the fear for a loved one.

 

Instantly the windows burst open as sand blew up from the streets, caressing every corner, studying every shadow. He was still, frozen, eyes wide as he stared at something not in the room, but outside of it. He would know where she was, he would find her.

 

And so he did.

 

He felt her struggle, her entrapment, and the horror of the jailer. His rage bubbled up at the sight of her being pressed against a stone wall, crumbling with age.

 

Shukaku had control, and he was furious that something of his was being hurt, being taken.

 

Gaara, in a whirlwind of sand, disappeared; a whisper of bloodlust was all that was left behind.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

She was terrified. How could she have ever let this happen? She was a fucking shinobi for Kami's sake. This guy, the one touching her, defiling her, probably wasn't even a genin. The jutsu was probably a half-formed attack learned by watching the guards, or reading a textbook.

 

She wished she could at least scream. But no… he controlled ever muscle, allowing her only enough freedom to draw in just enough air, though dark spots were imminent.

 

“Quite the struggler.” His voice was like slime in the air, smooth yet distasteful. He repulsed her. The only telltale sign of her fear, her disgust, was the trembling incasing her entire body. It was the only expression she could make.

 

His fingers roamed her face, her neck, up her arms, ruffling the sleeves of her shirt in teasing manner. She felt like throwing up. This was so wrong. Sakura had heard of things like this happening to other girls, but she had never thought it would happen to her. She was a ninja, for fucks sake, this was not supposed to be happening.

 

Her mind whirled, yet was strangely dim, not wrapping around the happenings, she supposed. She wanted someone to be there, someone to save her. Why wasn't anyone on the street, didn't they pay any attention what-so-ever?

 

She thought of Naruto and Sasuke. She thought of all her friends in Konoha.

 

She thought of Gaara.

 

It wasn't until the man started tearing at her clothes that her mind came into a further frenzy. She had always been taught to keep calm, cool, in such situations, and thinking of it from a third person perspective she had thought this easy. It wasn't, though, if anything, a clear thought would be far more impossible than the desert flooding. It occurred, somewhere deeply in her mind, that if she lived, she would not live unscarred.

 

He ripped her shirt, a strait, but ragged line, revealing the binding covering her chest. She couldn't breath, she felt suffocated. He skin pimpled as a cool breeze ran over it, whirling around her as though in a final embrace. Her eyes widened. It couldn't be, it—

 

She almost sobbed in relief. She would have, if she could, but the jutsu still held her tight. It didn't matter so much anymore though. There was Gaara. Even as his face snarled, his eyes wide with fury, she took comfort from him. The man, withdrawing from her, tried to make an escape.

 

“W-wait! I didn't mean to! I d-didn't know!”

 

He was cut off though, for a barrier of sand drew up around him, silencing him in a splatter of blood. Silence, it hung in the air like a blanket that pierced. With the man's death, the jutsu had been released, and Sakura had sunk down the wall. Her knees were weak as she shivered; the places touched burning in an almost painful feeling.

 

Gaara was still. His breathing slowly calmed, and he cursed his self for not bringing the offender a more painful death. He should have drawn it out. The molester had deserved it, and more.

 

He turned towards the shocked kunoichi, reaching out for her, but drew back. She flinched, and he hadn't even touched her.

 

It wasn't him, she knew that. She didn't think she could ever be afraid of Gaara now. No, it was the faint, pulsing memory, vibrant behind her eyes. She saw his hand, and she saw the hand of the man. Her rational mind told her they weren't the same. They shouldn't even live in the same world, that's how different they were, but her body paid no heed to that practical voice, not at the moment. She saw the pain in his eyes, though he quickly hid it, backing a step away as his hands hung loosely at his sands.

 

Sakura struggled up, arm supporting her against the wall.

 

“I'm sorry. It's not you, it's—”

 

She choked, walking on unsteady feet towards him as he stiffened, unsure of what to do. Quickly, ignoring the screaming hesitation in her body, she buried herself into his body. She was wracked with tears, using him as her pillar, her comfort. And so, slowly, he held her, hands lightly rubbing calming circles on her back.

 

“Thank you.” She whispered, “Thank you thank you thank you thank you.”

 

It was all she could say. Slowly, Gaara slipped an arm under her knees, the under cradling her back as he picked her up, carrying her silently back home.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

Sakura blinked to the persistent light burning her closed eyes. The blankets wrapped around her in a childlike embrace, and the kunoichi felt completely relaxed. Moving slowly, she stretched limbs, making a strong attempt to keep covered as she did so. It was about the tie she was stretching like a cat—her rear in the air with her chest touching the bed—that Gaara came in.

 

Sakura blushed slightly at being caught in such on odd position, but she quickly sat up and smiled at him.

 

“Gaara.”

 

He nodded to her. Slowly striding to her, cupping her cheek just a little but roughly, Gaara searched her face with shadowed eyes.

 

“You are…unhurt.” It was a tentative statement, almost a question.

 

Sakura's smile, at the reminder of the previous night's incidents, became a little more strained. She looked down at herself, the ripped shirt had been removed, but she still wore the chest binding and the same pants. She was feeling a little more than disgusting.

 

“Yeah… I just need to take a bath.”

 

Gaara nodded, backing away to giver her room to stand. Flipping her legs, her skin dimpling at the rush of cool air, Sakura attempted to stand up. She hadn't realized it, but she was more affected than she thought. Her legs gave out, knees buckling as she reached out to catch the bed. A flurry of sand caught her instead, cradling her gently as warm arms encircled her.

 

“I will take you there.”

 

She nodded, face flushed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

 

“You probably think I'm weak, huh?”

 

“No.”

 

She looked at him, confusion in her yes, “B-but… look what happened! Most people would think of me as weak.”

 

“I am not most people. It does not matter what they think.” He allowed small smile, one so rare, so easily unnoticed, that she felt her spirits lighten almost instantaneously. They both remained silent after that.

 

Sakura trained her eyes on Gaara's neck. When had necks become so attractive? His especially so. Muscles jumped slightly, as ligaments came into sight. The hollow under his chin was shadowed, and for some reason she wanted to trace her fingers on his skin, which seemed especially soft.

 

She resisted though, sighing gladly when Gaara set her on the floor softly so he could start up shower for her. Steam filled up the bathroom with the heat of the water, and the facet squeaked as Gaara searched for a good temperature.

 

“Do you need any help?”

 

Sakura shook her head, but for some reason, as he made his way to leave, she caught a hold of coat.

 

“Wait…”

 

She pulled him closer, and he didn't resist, much, as she pulled him into her arms. Like the night before, his arms around her were tentative, but there, and Sakura felt completely safe.

 

His face nuzzled her neck slightly, pressing against her, him on his knees as she sat on the bathtub ledge. The small room was filled with steam, the water running unheeded as Gaara began to kiss her.

 

They were just small pecks against the neck, at first. Soon, though, they grew a little more intimate, a little more passionate. He leveled with her face, and she leaned forward, pushing her lips against his. Their mouths sucked and danced with one another, moving together, allowing for a small amount of pleasure.

 

Gaara's hands brushed across her back, and she felt him picking at the binding as it slowly loosened. She did the same with his coat, fumbling with the buckles while at the same feeling him as much as she could.

 

His coat fell away, a black puddle on the ground, and a simple undershirt was presented to her. Sakura felt her binding unraveling, falling away from her, but still covering her up. Gaara growled in slight frustration as Sakura had been successful in pulling his shirt off. She ran her fingers over his smooth, pale skin in light brushes. His muscles rippled with her, and the sensation of touch completely consumed.

 

She wasn't sure where it came from, but Gaara produced a kunai knife, slicing though the binding, then throwing it to the floor. Sakura laughed slightly, breathlessly, which ended in a moan as his attention was turned to her breasts. He caressed and rubbed, gripping her as his mouth released hers and moved its way down her neck once more.

 

Sakura's legs wrapped around his waist, and with an unspoken agreement he picked her up, stepping over the edge of the tub and into the warm shower water. Instantly they were soaked, and Sakura found her pants clinging to her, and she wished they were off.

 

Something about the water ruffled her, making the heated feeling her in lower belly bloom until she felt as though she would burst. The muscles in her thighs tightened as the tight spot between her legs convulsed. She whined slightly when Gaara's hands left her, but sighed again when they came back, trying to loosen her pants.

 

It was a difficult, but Gaara seemed to have a talent, for her pants were off in no time flat, leaving her wrapped around him in just her underwear. Vaguely, Sakura realized that cleaning up the water on the floor would be a bitch, but that was quickly pushed out of her mind as Gaara started sucking on a hardened nipple. Her head was thrown back slightly as Gaara supported her, one hand under her rear and the other mid back, fingers splayed. She burned where he touched her, and where she touched him, in a delicious way, completely unlike the dead stranger from the night before.

 

Sakura caressed his shoulders and neck, gripping him when another wave of delightfulness fell upon her. He sucked, goading his tongue in the most amazing of ways as Sakura let him do as he willed.

 

“Gaara.” She grounded out, her voice tight with need.

 

Something about her voice set him off, but not in the way she would have liked. He let her go completely, dumping her unceremoniously to the floor. Looking at his face in a daze, she saw confusion, and a slight hint of fear.

 

“Gaara…?”

 

He was gone. Sand whirled around in the small space, leaving her all alone, body aching for more. Granules of sand leaked down the drain, avoiding her through little rivulets as she sat, back slumped.

 

She cried, but it was unnoticeable in the now cold shower water.

 

Oooo000OOO0000oooO

 

A/N: Well, this is just never going to end, is it? It was supposed to be a THREE-shot… go figure that that didn't end up happening. My planning skills go for crap. And is it just me, or (I think I've said this before) but has the tone of this story completely changed? Hmmmmm.

 

I was going to try to make this the end, but… well, look how well that went. Maybe one or two more? Dunno.

 

Anyway, about the ItaxSaku vs AU GaaxSaku: Gaara is in the lead, but Itachi is close behind. So give me you opinion. I plan on writing them both (Keyword: `plan'=unreliable) but which one are you most impatient for? Tell me in a review, or PM me, and I'll figure it out.

 

Anyways, wish me a happy birthday. It was yesterday (8/25) and it was stressful. I got an iPod though, which was pretty cool, and I bought some books and clothes. I don't really care for shopping, but a means to an end… I guess.

 

Well, until next time…

 

emeraldoni