Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gaara’s hand was steady as his scalpel cut into the offending man’s chest. His wrist was quick and brutal. His stroke graceful and whimsical which was in complete contrast to the blood spilling up, out, and away from his nearly comically small blade, but he ignored the blood, and the beauty of it all to see the terror, and the disbelief in the man’s glistening eyes.

“Yes.” Gaara spoke softly to the man on the table before him. His voice was calm and controlled, disguising the lust beneath the surface, the hunger behind his pale turquoise eyes as he leaned over the shaking body of his most hated foe.

Sweat glistened like melting ice along the man’s brow, and gathered in beads. Gaara watched as they slipped down his temple, and caught in the crook of his ear. Gaara smiled a comforting smile at the Dean of Tokyo University, Tojiro Hatsuhara, age 42, height 170.8cm, weight 62.5kg.

He had never liked this man, even if he hadn’t done what he had done to Sakura Haruno, he never would have liked this man. However, the man’s weaknesses were condemning, and Gaara was more than willing to be his executioner as well as Sakura’s redeemer.

This, was fitting, appropriate, a gift to both himself, as well as Sakura. Gaara continued to smile pleasantly at the man. It was the same smile he wore on his placid face in the board meetings, the pointless, endless board meetings the Dean forced them to sit through, always insisting they were ‘Necessary’.

Some things, were more necessary than others. Such as this. This was not a crime of passion, not this was an action of peace, of love, it was Gaara’s right as Sakura’s, as her, as her…

His eyes glazed over momentarily, his mouth went dry and he licked his lips, barely able to cultivate the moisture to do so. Gaara nodded once, then twice, laying his hand over the man’s eyes, offering his former boss a small reprieve before he truly began, the process of truth.

“This is really happening. I am going to kill you.” Gaara leaned over the barely twitching body, the drugs his uncle gave him worked marvelously well, and whispered in the man’s ear. “You are about to die. However, how much pain you are forced to endure, how much entertainment you provide me, depends solely on your constitution. Are you as strong as you wish others to see you as, as you hope to portray, or are you weak, as weak as most men who speak like you speak really are under the bravado, under the flash and dazzle?”

The man couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move beyond the uncontrollable shaking that was making the medical tools on the cart beside the examination table rattle and clink. Gaara stared passively down at the man. He was disgusting, even more disgusting to Gaara than he had been before this moment.

Like others of his kind, of his breed, he was a disease. He was filth.

“Shall we begin? You will feel every cut, every pull, tear and rip as I render your fragile human shell into something more beautiful, something more than you’ve made of it, for someone infinitely more important than your own existence.”

The redhead drew back from the paralyzed man with a small sweet smile on his lips. “...because I love her.”

He thought of Sakura. The one good thing in his life, the only thing worth anything to him, above all other things as he cut a straight line down the middle of the Dean of Tokyo University’s chest, before jabbing his fingers through his soft flesh, in between his ribs and pulling back the man’s ribs to breaking.

Gaara didn’t hear the ear piercing screams of the man in front of him. He didn’t smell the voided bowels or the urine pooling and trickling off the left side of the table. He barely noticed the vomit and blood seeping from the now, unconscious man’s mouth as he pulled his left lung and stomach from the body’s bone and other muscles, no. He didn’t hear a sound other than the beating of his own throbbing, pulsating heart because he knew, this, this sincere act of love and devotion would finally be enough to show her.

She would finally see him for who he was, and would understand. He had done this for her, for her.

Her.

Four and a half years ago...

”Are you Sabaku san?”

Gaara turned slowly, his left hand on the stairway rail to the next level of the Namikaze Building where he taught Physics, his right gripping the handle of his professor’s bag as a woman peered up from the bottom step at him, her pink hair falling back from her shockingly green eyes.

“Yes?” Gaara rolled his eyes internally. Was this one of his students? She was rather rude, addressing him so informally if she was. No, he looked her over slowly from head to toe. Pink hair. He would have recognized the hair. He sighed. She may not be a student but she was preventing him from getting to where he needed to be in a timely manner. He turned on the stair to face the woman, his eyes clear and focused on her in a mock gesture of sincerity, and waited for her to speak again.

He hoped she would hurry. He was already running a little late because of Naruto’s phone call. Naruto’s unexpected phone call to let him know one of his friends from his academy days would be starting work at the same university that he, Gaara worked at, today.

“I’m Haruno, Sakura Haruno, Naruto’s friend.” The woman bowed politely to Gaara, her long pink hair falling over her shoulders as she did so.

Gaara noted with slight disdain, she bowed not only her body but her head as well, it was foolish of her to break eye contact with him. Hadn’t she heard the rumors? Did she have any idea who she was speaking to? Naruto’s friend. Probably not.

“Ah.” Not really a grunt but not precisely a word. Gaara nodded to the woman. He never knew what to say in these sorts of situations. His awkwardness was palatable. He shifted his weight from his left foot to his right. What did Naruto tell the woman about him? Surely his friend wouldn’t tell her about his darker past, even as long ago as it was.

No, Naruto would never betray him like that. So, this was the woman Uzumaki spoke so highly of? She looked nice, he supposed.

Except.

She was smiling a knowing sort of smile at him, like she knew something about him, what? What did she know? Perhaps he was mistaken. Perhaps she had overheard the gossip in the staff room, had heard any number of falsities about him, that constantly surrounded and followed him.

Perhaps. He growled, quite unconsciously.

Sakura burst out laughing, dropped her bag at her feet and covered her mouth with both of her hands. She was slightly embarrassed by her untoward outburst, but she couldn’t help it.! Did he just growl at her? Her eyes sparkled as they crinkled up into little half moons of delight. It was adorable. He was just as Naruto described!

“Did you just growl at me, Sabaku san?” Sakura’s eye sparkled as she looked up into the red head’s placid eyes. She could see the storm brewing beneath the forced calm. This man, try as he may, was not as tranquil as he wished to appear. “By all means, growl at me if you like. It doesn’t bother me.”

Gaara blinked. Did she just...was she really…

Sakura laughed out loud again. The man’s cool veneer was cracking and it was absolutely adorable!

This is my first day. No doubt Naruto, the big dope called you and told you I was coming right?” Sakura waited but Gaara didn’t speak, he merely shrugged and continued to watch her carefully, as though she were some sort of unpredictable wild animal. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me, I already know he did by the look on your face.”

“The look on my…” Gaara started, then stopped. He had a look on his face? Impossible. He narrowed his eyes at the pink haired woman. She was guessing, she didn’t know. No one ever knew what he was thinking. He stood alone. No one ever understood him. There simply wasn’t anyone else alive in the world, like him. No one thought like he did, cared for what he did, or saw the world the same as he did. He had come to accept this, long ago. After he met Naruto, he understood exactly how different he was, but that it was okay too.

It was okay to be alone.

He would be alone, forever. It was okay. He understood how...different he was. It was okay. He didn’t mind being alone.

He didn’t mind. Did he?

“Of course.” Sakura cocked her head to the side, openly considering the man higher up on the stairs, nodded once and smiled again as she climbed the rest of the stairs so they were face to face. “It’s called an expression.”

Gaara looked past the woman to a pair of students who were making their way up the stairs, rolled his eyes internally as they stopped, stared, then ran back down the stairs to avoid him. With a tearing, loud clearing of his throat he inclined his head to Haruno Sakura.

“I know what an expression is Haruno san, I am just not accustomed to people observing such miniscule actions in me, and then pointing them out after introducing themselves for the first time.” He said in his signature monotone voice.

“You’ll find, Sabaku san, that I am like you, like naruto, and am not like most people.” Sakura adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder and nodded to the next flight of stairs. “Shall we?”

Gaara watched the woman move up the stairs, one foot in front of the other. Her feet were sure, her smile, possibly sincere, and followed her, slowly at first, then more confidently as she put forth an effort to speak with him.

Later that same day…

“Yes Naruto I met your friend.” Sakura leaned her back against the wall between the medical lab and the lecture room as she spoke to her childhood friend.

“He’s nice. Quiet but yeah I think you’re right we’ll get along just fine. It will be nice to have a friend so far from home, even if he doesn’t think of me like that. Maybe, in time he will. I mean, he does like you after all.” Sakura laughed at something Naruto said, so focused on her conversation that she didn’t notice the shadow behind the lecture room door to her left.

‘Friend?’ Gaara swallowed hard. She wanted to be his friend?

It was so disturbing to him. The way she spoke to him without hesitation, just like Naruto. The way she smiled so easily at him, just like Naruto and the way her eyes sparkled when he spoke to her.

That, was not like Naruto. Not at all. What was it? He laid his hand over his chest and looked down at his feet. Naruto never made his heart jump or his palms sweat.

Sakura snapped her phone shut and tucked it into her back pocket, turned and walked through the lecture door, right into Gaara Sabaku. “Oh!” She laughed, her small hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

“Forgive me. I didn’t see you standing there. What are you doing over here at this time of the day? Aren’t you teaching your last physics class?” Sakura tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, watched Sabaku san watch her, and shifted her weight nervously to her other foot.

It was strange, this feeling. At first, when they had met that morning she thought the thumping of her heart was due to the nervousness everyone has when starting a new job, but now, as she lifted her chin and looked Sabaku san in the eyes, she wasn’t too sure.

No, in fact she thought that ‘This’, might be something else entirely, but she still wasn’t sure what ‘It’ was.

“My period is free, my students are free study today for a group project I gave them at the start of term.” He explained his presence. I was on my way to the cafeteria for dinner before leaving for the day.” Gaara nodded, then moved to walk past her but she reached out and took his arm gently.

Gaara’s eyes widened slightly. She was, touching him?

“Do you always eat dinner in the cafeteria after work Sabaku san?” She asked him.

Gaara nodded. What a ridiculous question. A pointless inquiry. Why did she care if he ate at work or at home? It didn’t matter. Not to him. Either way, he ate alone. What did it matter to her if he ate alone here or in his apartment?

“That seems horrible to me somehow. Hey, I have an idea. I too am done for the day. Let’s grab dinner together. You can show me around Tokyo and I will buy you dinner, how about it?” Sakura smiled that sweet smile of hers at him again.

Gaara swallowed what little spit he had in his mouth. Was she, did she mean…

Impossible.

“Sure.” He ducked his head, his eyes on the ground. When he looked up she was still there. He blinked. She was still there. Why was she still there?

“So, where is a good place to eat? I like dumplings a lot but I should probably have something more responsible now that I am a doctor.” She laughed. “Not everyone can live off of ramen and power bars like Naruto right?”

That’s right. Gaara almost smiled. Naruto really did live off of ramen and power bars. “How is he, Naruto I mean. Is he, well?” Gaara asked the woman before pushing the door open for her and walking out into the bright spring sun behind her.

Chapter Text

Gaara grunted as he hoisted the now dead mangled body of the Dean of Tokyo University, Tojiro Hatsuhara, age 42, height 170.8cm, weight 62.5kg, up into the front yard tree of Sakura Haruno’s home, centered just so, in front of her picture window.

He could see the glittering lights of her Christmas tree in the window. It was beautiful and peaceful, just like she was and he couldn’t help but imagine her decorating her tree, and placing the lights just so, to give him enough lumination to work by.

With one arm around the still oozing body he flung his heavy rope up over the thickest branch and tied the other end securely around the Dean’s neck. With a great push and great skill, Gaara heaved the body over the side of the branch, trapped his foot in the knot provided by his forethought and swung down the other side skillfully hoisting the nearly unrecognizable body of his former boss into the air at eye level from the picture window.

With a smile, he adjusted the knot, double checked the time and slid from the tree into the same footprints he had left there the day before when he came to help Sakura carry her Christmas tree into her house. Gaara turned before walking down the road to his parked car and looked back at the tree.

Soon, it would be their tree and not just Sakura’s. Soon, they would have a house of their own, not just hers and not just his. He was sure this would show her, tell her how he really felt about her. No matter how hard he tried, no matter where they were or what they were doing it had never been the right time to tell her he loved her.

Actions speak louder than words. He had always believed that and he felt, with Sakura she would understand. She wouldn’t misunderstand his gesture. She would see his intent clearly, like the dried blood on the former Dean’s lapel, she would see his love clearly defined.

Four years had passed since that first day. It was four years and nine months since he had met her in the stairwell of Tokyo University and yet, it felt, even now, like another life. Before he had met Sakura Haruno he was a different person. An introvert, a nobody. Just another over privileged foreigner in a foriegn land but now, now he was…

Gaara pulled the door to his car open and sat down in the driver’s seat.

This was going to be the best Christmas ever, even better than last Christmas when Sakura had agreed to go back home with him and meet his family, because soon, she would be a part of his family in a way no one else was, she would, she would…

”Haruno san, may I see you in my office please?” Tojiro Hatsuhara, smiled an oily smile at Sakura, gave Gaara who was beside her a narrowed look and ushered the woman into his office without a backward glance.

Gaara stood alone in the wide office hall and stared heatedly at the Dean’s door. This wasn’t the first time the man had separated them, the second nor the third. It seemed to Gaara the man tried to interfere in their relationship every chance he got.

Was it...jealousy or something, more. Gaara turned from the door and walked down the hall to the professor’s cubicles and waited beside Sakura’s chair. She would come find him, like always and they would go home to either her apartment or his and eat dinner together, like they had done every day for the last year.

She was a creature of routine and he was just pleased to be a part of it.

“Sakura.” Tojiro Hatsuhara, age 42, height 170.8cm, weight 62.5kg, sat on the corner of his desk and took one of Sakura’s hands in between his. “I would like you to have dinner with me tonight. I’ve made reservations.”

Sakura’s brow twitched. Six months ago, Tojiro Hatsuhara, began making passes at her, which she ignored, but this, was a bit more difficult to ignore than sly comments, or gentle caresses on the back. What would the man do if she boldly refused him? Would he fire her?

...and since when did he call her by her first name? She had not given him that privilege, she was certain and did not care for the man’s assertiveness. She wasn’t interested.

What would Gaara do? She, unlike her co workers, unlike the Dean knew Gaara controlled his darker, deeper urges by a hair, barely holding onto his sanity. She, understood that. Growing up with Naruto who had his own mental problems from childhood taught her many things and gave her an outlook on mental health that others did not possess.

It was one of the reasons she went into the medical field in the first place.

“Hatsuhara san…” Sakura began, but was rudely interrupted by Hatsuhara san himself.

“Tojiro. Please call me Tojiro, Sakura.” Tojiro tugged her hand until it was flat on his leg and twined his fingers with hers. “I would like to get to know you better, outside of work.” His thin lips spread and curved into a loose smile.

Sakura thought he looked like a fish when he did such things, or perhaps a newt. It sickened her and she drew back carefully, forcefully pulling her fingers from his grasp.

“Sir, I do not think that is appropri…” She began but was cut off once more by Tojiro.

“Just dinner, and perhaps a walk by the river after?” He insisted.

“Well…” Her head turned back to the closed door. Gaara was waiting for her. They always had dinner together and…

“You’re not dating Sabaku, I know you aren’t my dear. No one would choose that poor excuse for a man over me.” Tojiro leaned closer to Sakura. “I mean, look at you, you deserve someone more…”

“Enough.” Sakura’s eyes flashed. “No, I am not seeing Sabaku san, but Gaara is my friend and a very good one. Do not speak of him with such disdain. I know what you are doing. I know you would not keep Gaara if he wasn’t good at his job. Do not belittle him to make yourself look more grand.” She broke from his unwanted advances and stomped across the office, opened the door and then slammed it shut behind her.

Gaara, as she thought, was waiting for her by her desk. Green eyes met calm teal. No, Sakura smiled a little smile as she walked up to her friend. Not calm, controlled. Gaara always provided the appearance of serene calm but he was always, always anything but calm.

Controlled.

That was a better word to describe the man.

Controlled, by a hair. An illusion of calm to hide the raging hatred within.

“Are you alright?” Gaara reached up to touch the side of Sakura’s face. “Your makeup is smudged. What happened?” His eyes darted past her to the Dean’s door behind her.

Tojiro Hatsuhara, age 42, height 170.8cm, weight 62.5kg, stood in his office door, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at not Sakura Haruno, but Gaara Sabaku.

“What did he do?” Gaara growled. Fury. Suppression. He had to…

“Nothing Gaara. It’s nothing. Come on.” Sakura took Gaara’s hand and pulled him down the hall. She knew the dean was watching but she didn’t care. “Let;s go back to my apartment tonight. Naruto sent me some Ichiraku instant ramen and I know he would want me to share it with you. We can stop and get a bottle of sochi on the way home.”

‘On the way home?’ Gaara’s heart pulsed momentarily. On the way home, as though they were… No, she was walking faster than usual, her eyes darting back and forth. Something happened. What?

He could see the stress in her eyes, could feel the tremble of what, anger? Fear? In her hands and wondered, how far, how far had the weasel taken his touches with her this time?

“Sakura.” He pulled back on her hand forcing her to stop and look at him. “Did he…”

“He asked me to dinner, nothing more.” Sakura looked him in the eyes. She knew with Gaara, there was no room for misunderstandings. She knew he maintained a very thin, short line of control and she swore, after the first week of their friendship, that she would never be the one to set him off, to cause his control to break or to…

“You swear?” Gaara interrupted her thoughts. “He didn’t try to, to…”

Sakura smiled. Misunderstood. That is what Gaara was. Always misunderstood and misunderstanding..

“I promise Gaara. Nothing happened.” She smiled and took his hand in hers again. Nothing happened, this time. “Now, come on. I’m starving.”

Sakura spoke very little on their walk to her apartment and Gaara wasn’t sure what he should say to cheer her up, or if he should try to cheer her up. The Dean wasn’t the only man who had asked her out since she joined their staff roster and Gaara was sure he wouldn’t be the last.

However, unlike the other men that asked her out and were denied, the Dean had a bit of influence over Sakura, as well as himself because he was their boss. Would the man cause trouble for them, for Sakura? Gaara didn’t care about the man causing trouble for him, but Sakura was different.

She didn’t have the professional connections that he did, as a Sabaku. Sakura had influential friends, but no influence herself. She was from a broken clan with no old world ties. She was basically alone in the professional world.

Without a title, or a well known or wealthy Clan head to support her, she had only her natural talent and wits to fall back on. Unfortunately those two very admirable qualities fell woefully short of effectiveness in situations such as the one she was currently in.

...and there was only so much he could do to help her, as a friend.

A month later…

“Sakura, may I see you in my office before you leave today dear?” Tojiro Hatsuhara, smiled from the end of the hall where Sakura taught her last class.

Sakura nodded briskly before entering her classroom, a nervous twitch in her left hand, a drawn in clenching of her gut. She knew he would try again, the bad ones never gave up.

She met Gaara in the second hallway after her class. He was coming out of his lecture room as she rounded the corner. Their eyes met. She nodded just as he opened his mouth to speak.

“I have to meet with the dean, but I won’t be long.” Sakura moved past Gaara, the tips of her fingers trailed across the back of his hand before she stepped back and around him toward the doors.

“Wait for me.” She called out over her shoulder as she pushed the doors open.

“Forever.” Gaara mumbled under his breath, turned back around and followed her through the double doors at a distance giving her time. Just as he was pulling her chair out from her desk the doors to the Dean’s office flew open and Sakura ran out, past him, down the hall and into the stairwell.

“What…” Gaara turned back round to face the Dean who had come out of his office, his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his puffing, bloody lip.

“So close.” Tojiro Hatsuhara, replied before walking back into his office and shutting his door.

Three months after that…

“Haruno san. I’m afraid your last performance evaluation was not to the standards we here at Tokyo University require from those who wish to teach the next generation. It pains me to say this but...you’re fired.” Tojiro Hatsuhara, the Dean of Tokyo University spoke out of the side of his mouth.

Sakura rose to her feet, bowed slightly and left the room, leaving Gaara alone at a table with her former co-workers.

A month later…

“I can’t stay here Gaara. I’m sorry. I have to move back to Konoha. My old shisou runs the Konoha General Hospital. She will give me a job. I can’t afford to live in Tokyo, not anymore.” Sakura ran her hands through her hair.

“I wish, I mean...I will miss you. A lot. Come visit me will you, Naruto and I?” Sakura threw her arms around Gaara’s neck and hugged him to her chest.

“I’m really going to miss you.” She whispered into his neck before she could stop herself, and before she could pull away, for the first time since they had met four years and nine months ago, Gaara lifted his arms and hugged her back.

“Gaara.” She began to sob.

“Sakura.” He began to plot.