[Log] If You Can Mend It, You Can Break It [Part 1 of 4] BACKDATED
Characters: Gaara and Sakura
Date: Late June 30th
Location: Streets of Celo, Sakura's apartment
Warnings/Notes: PG-13; Violence, language, blood, Gaara's general creepiness
Summary: A simple stroll home after a busy day at work goes terribly awry.
Well, damn.
He had sworn he would deal with his wound, when the time came. He had promised himself to steer clear of that wretched pink-haired wench. She had tricked him; had forced his hand into giving her his... (He shuddered to think about it)... trust. And now, standing in front of the oh-so-familiar clinic - he'd been there once before -, Gaara found that he wasn't quite sure what to do.
What was he supposed to do, in a situation like this? He didn't trust her - or himself, really - enough to meet her in her element. There were just way too many sharp things that might be too tempting for a frazzled victim to ignore.
Still, the clouds had grown thick and heavy with rain, and a light drizzle had already picked up. His more recent wound protested this fact - it ached, oddly enough.
Stubborn as ever, though, the red-head crossed his arms and leaned against the building opposite the clinic, the lines of his face drawn in brooding concentration. He was waiting...
Waiting for Sakura.
It had been a long night.
Granted, things were still far quieter then usual with all of the barricades keeping the majority of her clientele away but she was still tired. There had been the prerequisite number of knife wounds and bumps and bruises to pass the time away and keep her moving through-out the very, very long twelve hour stretch.
She was sure her feet were probably a whole other size larger then what they were when she started out that morning.
There was a quick check to make sure everything was turned off and things were in their proper place before she reached out and turned off all but the emergency lights, a relieved sigh escaping from her lips as she finally got to escape, almost gleefully turning about to lock the door behind her.
The streets were quiet, barely even a soldier to be seen wandering about.
She was on the move. Gaara debated on whether or not he should come right out and confront her, but decided against it. They hadn't left on the best of terms, last time.
He moved with the shadows, suddenly grateful for the gloomy sky. It made the dim light of twilight nearly nonexistent. It was a matter of hugging the side alleys, and keeping with the darkness. White light didn't carry far in such dreary weather - the very air seemed soaked with a muggy kind of darkness. Not the best weather for a stroll, but it suited his purposes.
There weren't many Arma or Arceos out tonight - most had been sent to Cena, as reinforcements -, and the few that Gaara had already passed were embarrassingly inattentive.
His mind wasn't fully grasping the importance of a plan, at the moment. The only thing he could think about was: Follow.
A particularly harsh blast of wind ripped a good portion of Sakura's hair out of the already destroyed bun she had painstakingly pinned up early that morning. Moving briskly through a quick alleyway shortcut that trimmed a few minutes off her trip home, it was there that a second set of soft footfalls reached her ears, unnoticeable until now with the walls on either side of her for the noise to reverberate off of. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her purse as she gradually increased her pace, the warnings her mother had hounded her with prior to her relocation always coming back to haunt her in moments like these.
Because, really, she wasn't that paranoid. Really she wasn't.
But it certainly wouldn't have hurt to have one of those 20lb old lady purses at the moment, something she could swing around and knock someone out cold with.
Stupid.
Absolutely stupid.
Gaara might have hoped for a little challenge, a little thrill in following this medic. The moment she turned down an empty alleyway, his high dissipated. Someone clueless enough to put themselves in that kind of danger...
Well, they were barely worth killing.
He wasn't here to kill her - yet -, though. He was here to have her mend a few new wounds, and finish her job on the old one.
The set of her shoulders changed as his presence was made known. There was a certain tenseness about her - her body seemed to sense him there before her mind could catch up with it. He could see the struggle play out between her shoulder blades, her hands, the pace and rhythm of her steps.
Pressing himself flush against the wall, Gaara allowed the deepening shadow to engulf his being, evening out his breaths to make them just below unnoticeable.
Any telltale sounds of her unwanted companion disappeared with the light whipping of wind flowing through the pass-through. Even though she held her breath in hope of being able to tell if the other person had perhaps simply taken a wrong turn or were still just traveling in the same general direction that she was.
There were other very decent and normal people who took these odd little off-streets in the desire to shave a few minutes off the trip home.
Obviously, since she was one of said people.
It took quite a bit of self control not to whip her head around to scan the alleyway, instead continued on as if she were completely unaware of the other presence lurking at the edge of her mind, idly reaching down to rummage through her bag without breaking her pace in the slightest.
She was panicking, just a bit. Not enough for it to overwhelm her, or cloud her judgment... but Gaara knew fear when he saw it. Still, the pink-haired medic didn't turn around, and instead kept walking. In a few moments, she would be too far head for him to comfortably follow, so the red-head decided to push off of the wall and pursue.
There was nothing to hide him now. Nothing but wind, and a light drizzle, and the cover of clouds.
He drew closer to her nervous form, intent on revealing himself now - the rain only made his wounds a little more achy.
There was no doubt now, she was being followed, and the irrefutable truth of the matter had Sakura's heart pounding in her throat. The possibility had haunted her every now and again being here in this place that was a whole other world then the one she was familiar with but she'd been lucky. Rin's influence had reached far beyond the clinic when she had first been taken under the other woman's wing and since her mentor's disappearance, Sakura's own brand of 'influence' kept away any questionable figures.
Either that or she just camped out at the clinic far too often to take notice of such people.
Neither excuse helped her in the slightest as she felt the rapidly decreasing distance between her and this other person though, and if wasn't for her crash course in 'don't run from the crazy person as it only makes them want to chase you even more' - she would have torn down the alley like all hell about five minutes ago. Instead she did her damnedest to exude an innocent cluelessness while frantically fumbling around in her purse for something, anything she could use to fend off this creep if he should try anything.
Or if it was Ino playing a trick and then would doubly deserve whatever happened to her for being such a freak.
Her pride still ached from the last time she had found herself helpless at another's hands and Sakura swore to herself that she would not allow herself to be manhandled into any such position ever again. So when she could clearly hear shoes moving against the damp pavement and could almost imagine the heat of another body nearing (she swore she could feel it) her fist clenched around the first thing it could, ripping it out of her purse even as her heel ground into the pavement with a quick twist of her body, her arm swinging around wildly to show this person she meant business - stopping only when she felt her spur-of-the-moment-weapon contact with the hard wall of flesh.
"WhatkindafreakstalksyounggirlsdownalleywaysandwhatinthehelliswrongwithyouGETAWAY!" The long tirade burst forth under the pressure of her calm facade finally shattering, which funnily enough worked in harmony with the splintering feel of her impromptu weapon doing the same in her hand.
Five yards turned to four. Four to three. Three... two... One more yard, just a handful of feet left, and he would be right up on the medic. He didn't have a plan, really. Only that she was close, and he needed to be closer, because those annoying wounds of his were aching from the weather, and she was the only one he knew who could mend them.
A moment more, and he would have spoken, would have made his presence known... (Maybe. Frightening this girl seemed wholly amusing, though.)
Half a moment later, she spun around; a wild, almost feral look in her eyes. There was a fierce determination there, a fire that couldn't be quelled by his presence, or dampened by the rain. A spark of madness, too, in a way. Not as deep as his own insanity, but more of a dark desperation. Her pink locks clung to the sides of her face, framing her soft, yet striking visage - bringing sharp contrast between the ferocity of her words, and the gentleness of her features.
He didn't comprehend that the word 'Beautiful' flit through his mind. Gaara barely understood such... human thoughts. But, in a flash of clarity, his madness acquainted such a word with one other: 'Blood.' Gaara blinked, not fully understanding this connection at first. He might have spent more time to think about it, too, if a blunt pressure hadn't jabbed him in the side at that very moment.
Glancing down at the weapon in question, the red-head could only smirk.
"A tongue depressor? Do you really think me so harmless?"
Of every weirdo or psychotic killer that existed in their world, why did it have to turn out for him to have been her stalker?
For a moment she gaped openly, her mind still trying to register the damp red hair, the same scowly face though it was leaning more towards amused at the moment - and far less blood and skin then the last time but the end result was the same.
"What in the hell is your problem! You don't go sneaking up behind women in dark alleyways! If I had been anyone else I could have shot you!" Her exasperation was getting the better of her, even knowing what had happened the last time she had the misfortune of meeting this guy but this time there was no cramped elevator or dark lobby for her to be confined in and here, well. Screams echoed very nicely in wide open areas such as these.
Sakura was gearing up from a completely spastic fit when his only words finally sunk into her brain and she glanced down quickly at the splintered piece of balsa wood in her hand, that was still partially jabbed into Gaara's ribcage.
Pity it wasn't a knife.
She tossed the destroyed tongue depressor off to the side as if to toss away the evidence of her poor choice in weapons but her cheeks more then gave her away with the light flush of her anger and embarrassment.
He couldn't help but chuckle at the look on her face. That intensely strong will to survive had crumpled at seeing him. Now she just looked annoyed. A bit frazzled by the confrontation, yes, but mostly just an underlying current of frustration tainted her features. Amusing.
Gaara smirked, taking a step closer when the wooden obstacle was removed from his side. He knew no such thing as personal space - only the kind that benefited him and his own odd touch-based needs. Or lack of them, rather.
Admittedly, the light blush tinting her cheeks was half-way intriguing. He leaned in a bit to get a better look.
"If you had been anyone else, I would have killed you." His tone was almost pleasant, not threatening in the least - genuine, even -, which only served to make his words seem all the more demented.
It was purely instinctive, the urge to step back to replace the distance between them, a meager one to be sure but more then what was there a second ago. Already this was resembling their last encounter a little too closely and after that disastrous and traumatizing evening, Sakura was having none of it.
"You know, I've heard this song before. And I was sick of it the last time I had this misfortune of bumping into you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a friend of mine expecting me."
Of course it was a blatant lie, but it wasn't like he would know any different.
Gaara had been following this girl for a little while now. He knew her routine, her schedule. He knew that she came into work at an impossibly god-awful hour of the morning; knew that she didn't leave until every last medic on call had clocked out.
And he certainly knew that she didn't go see 'friends' after a busy day at work.
"No, you don't." His smirk only widened.
For a brief moment, Sakura merely responded instinctively to uphold her lie.
"Of course I do, I told my best friend I'd help her bleach out her roots...." her voice trailed off as his words finally sunk in and her glare hardened further as their knowledgeable tone pricked her nerves.
"....And just what makes you the authority on what my plans are? You don't know anything about me let alone what I have made arrangements to do with my own time. Go find someone else to torment because I'm not putting up with this again." With the harsh set of her words she turned on her heel and made to continue walking.
And he followed right on her heels. Gaara lived with Anko. He was used to verbal assaults, and would most assuredly be ready for a physical one, if this girl got up enough courage - or annoyance - to attack him in such a way. He was curious, too, as to where she might be going. Despite the time he had spent watching her at work, Gaara had yet to actually follow her home. His boredom didn't reach that far, but now, with her antagonizing him, the idea seemed pleasant enough.
Her reactions might be even more violent, if he were to provoke her on her own turf.
A part of him thought, too, that with the rising crime in Celo, this little medic shouldn't be wandering the streets alone at night, anyways. Despite what she may have thought, Gaara wasn't the worst person who could have found her. In fact, with his current mindset, he may have been the best.
He wouldn't kill her. He wouldn't physically harm her in any way. Yet. He was intrigued, and in this curiosity, would become her inadvertent 'protector' if the need arose.
"I know you like chocolate covered pretzels," he said offhandedly, still in step with her, but hanging back and to her left by half a foot.
Sakura's teeth were almost grinding audibly by this point, the sheer audacity of this little troll actually seeking her out after his treatment of her before. And if all that wasn't bad enough he was still following her and talking to he-wait what?
She stopped dead in her tracks with that seemingly innocent statement running track through her brain.
"...And just why would you think that?"
He nearly ran into her from behind, but shifted his body to miss her frozen form at just the right moment. The rain seemed to pick up, clinging to his blood red hair, darkening the locks and turning them a deep shade of burgundy. His eyes, too, had darkened with the weather, the deep rings of black giving him an almost brooding look.
Gaara blinked once, then lowered his voice, speaking softly.
"Because you eat them every day."
It was true, from what he knew. The several occasions he had watched Sakura from afar, working on her patients in the hospital, busying herself with menial tasks that only she seemed capable of doing right, he had noticed a few things. Her food of choice being one of them.
Her heart rose up into her throat another few inches with another seemingly innocent observation.
"That's really odd to hear coming from someone whom I haven't laid eyes on since I ran like hell away from you nearly a month ago." Her tone was almost conversational even though a flare of temper was building its way into a hotflashover once she got the confirmation that was only an admission or slip of the tongue away.
His self-assuredness with her 'plans' and now this little revelation was only heading towards one disturbing conclusion - her little ticks of paranoia weren't just paranoia anymore, but instead a founded reason for feeling as though there was someone watching her.
He merely smirked, not responding to her baited comment in the least. But he let her know, through the look he was giving her, that yes; her assumptions were correct. Sometimes it was best to follow your instincts, even when those feelings felt too paranoid to be true. Gaara knew this by personal experience.
Crossing his arms, he straightened up, leaning a bit on his left leg. In an odd sense, he wanted Sakura to feel less uneasy around him, for now. He needed her help, after all, and it wouldn't do to have her frightened - or angry - out of wit's end. Blinking away the rain drops that had fallen to his lashes, the insomniac tilted his head and gave the medic a curious look.
... And asked the most untactful question he could possibly have asked at this moment.
"Where do you live?"
It was all that Sakura could do to not bash him in the head with her purse. The sheer audacity of the guy to even ask her such a thing after more or less admitting to stalking her!
"I knew I should have screamed for the Arma the first chance I had," she growled through tightly gritted teeth, glaring him down for all that it was worth. Fingernails dug harshly into her palm as she fought for self-restraint. It had been a long day with no breaks at the clinic, she was tired, she was chilly and now she was wet, the damp mist easily dissolving into a steady shower that saturated everything within minutes. And now she's realizing she has an honest-to-God stalker.
Freaking fantastic.
"If you don't already know, I'm sure as hell not telling you. I have nothing for you, why can't you just leave me alone?"
His grin was a disturbingly smart-assed replica of one of Kankuro's own trademarked sneers.
"But you didn't," he reminded her unnecessarily.
He could see the stress taking a toll on her nerves, and his gaze shifted to her hand as he took in what else she had to say.
"Nothing... for me...?" His voice sounded wistful, if a bit confused. What? She thought he was here to steal from her? He chuckled at the thought, closing his eyes for a moment and shifting from foot-to-foot. When he opened them back up, his bright jade gaze had settled back on her face.
"You can do something for me," he asked suggestively - though not in the 'suggestive' way most people would attribute the words to. His meaning was expressed through the hand he settled across his stomach. Across the stitches that were still sewn securely into his skin.
The rain picked up.
It wasn't necessarily the tone it was said in, it was just the fact that those words were said at all. For a moment Sakura just stood there blankly, her long work day and the rain both doing their part to destroy the intricate bun she had fought her hair up into, the pink tresses now clinging to her head like helmet in the rain. But that moment passed very quickly and she was instinctively moving, her arm swinging around using her purse as the ballast as she swung it forward hard.
Too late, her mind caught up with the physical momentum just as the bag impacted the side of Gaara's head.
Light green eyes widened comically as did the rapidly growing 'O' of her mouth, the full weight of what she just did slowly sinking into her mind. Instinctively she stepped back a few paces to avoid any instantaneous retaliation. When nothing happened immediately, Sakura took advantage of the apparent stun tactic, turning quickly on her heel and bolting out of the alleyway.
The rain washed away any semblance of beauty she may have possessed in his twisted mind. Now, he only saw her in the foggy haze of the increasing downpour they had been standing in since the beginning of their conversation. Night was coming on quickly, and with the dull gray clouds hovering above, a certain darkness had descended upon the White District.
His hand was still resting gently against his stomach, though his eyes had strayed to a ridge in the side of the road, his gaze following the progress of a little temporary stream. When he glanced back, instead of seeing the frightened face of the medic he had been terrorizing, he only saw a streak of tan as it blurred out of view.
...Out of view, and directly against the side of his head.
Gaara stumbled a few steps backwards, his hand rising to thread through blood red locks, palm pressed gingerly against the spot where he had been struck.
Wait, struck? He waited a few moments, anticipating the familiar sensation of his instincts overriding his common sense. He waited for the natural reaction of attack to intoxicate his mind; waited for defend, defend, defend, to overload his senses.
It never came.
Blinking rapidly to clear his mind of the haze it had been put under, Gaara looked up, only to find he was staring at the back of Sakura's head, instead of the front. It wasn't until she rounded a corner that he realized exactly what had happened. That he had been hit - that this weak little girl had landed a blow on him...
And that she was running away right now.
That last part stuck with him the most, and in a matter of moments, Gaara found his feet moving swiftly in the direction she had fled.
Sensible rubber soles slapped harshly against the pavement, kicking up puddles of muck and rainwater as she fought to put as much distance between her and the red-headed menace as humanly possible.
What in the hell had she been thinking?!
Last time she hadn’t even really struck out at him and she had been covered in her fair share of bumps and bruises…if he actually got a hold of her this time?
The hell with that.
Harsh breathing echoed off the silent buildings, nearly lost in the cacophony of rainfall that drenched the city. Buildings and signs passed by unseen as she ran on pure instinct alone, not looking back just focusing on getting away.
So when she rounded the block and her own apartment building came into sight, Sakura skidded forward a few paces and wholeheartedly cursed herself for not paying attention.
It certainly didn’t do to lead the bastard to the very place she didn’t want him to find. A quick glance over her shoulder showed the redhead closing in quickly. Abruptly turning in a completely different direction, Sakura began to run again, rapidly turning corners and eyeing potential hiding places all the while.
Like a hunter following after the trail of its prey, Gaara's mind seemed to stir into a frenzy; every instinct screaming at him to not lose her, every muscle tight with tension, ready to pounce. She had had a head-start to this little chase, but the red-head caught up soon enough. He was used to running, after all. Used to hunting down people as if they were nothing more than mere animals, placed on this earth to better amuse him.
He wasn't amused now, though. If anything, the fury in his veins had overrode his senses - more powerful and volatile than any amount of adrenaline.
She hesitated a moment, and Gaara took advantage of her pause to push forward with an extra burst of speed. The girl was nimble, he would give her that, but there was simply no way she could escape him now. He wouldn't allow it.
Growling like a panther having just caught the scent of fear mingling with the delicious anticipation of a successful kill, the insomniac inched closer to the girl, his feet splashing carelessly through the many puddles lining the street.
Oh, she would regret her actions, mark his words.
His footsteps were louder now, sounding as though he was right on top of her though she didn’t dare turn around again and lose even more ground. Panic bubbled up in her throat with what she imagined to be his harsh breath wafting against the back of her neck, urging her to jolt forward, to get away. Her chest was heaving from the unexpected exertion, burning as she pushed herself to run harder and faster and faster.
There was a loud crash as she rounded a corner just a little too closely without seeing a trash can blocking the way, just barely keeping upright as she pushed herself forward. Had she had known that this was what she had to look forward to, Sakura would have just crashed at the clinic, not like it wouldn't be the first time, after all. It was as if she hadn't been punished enough by their first encounter, that she would have start the torment of it all over again and that's when she decided that running herself to the point of exhaustion was useless - causing her to stop dead in her tracks before turning around to face Gaara dead on.
He was so close now, he could hear her harsh puffs of breath, could practically smell the shampoo she used to wash her hair with that morning. Droplets of water flew back, flinging from the ends of her pink locks, to land harmlessly against his cheeks. Two more seconds, and she would be within reach - close enough for him tug her to a halt, and spin her around to face him.
Turns out, she did her own spinning.
Gaara barely had time to register the fact that she had stopped dead in her tracks and turned around to face him, before he went hurtling into her prone form.
Sakura had just opened her mouth to really give him a piece of her mind when the impact knocked whatever air she had remaining in her lungs out and just when she thought that things couldn't get any worse, her rear impacted the ground with a jarring amount of force and Sakura found herself sprawled out on the pavement of some random alleyway with some psycho-maniac who was probably about to kill her at any given moment.
Lord knows he'd threatened her with that enough before.
And then he was falling. The rush of wind through his ears was unmistakable, and in a last-ditch effort to right himself, Gaara grabbed the girl's shoulders and pushed. It only served to make her hit the ground sooner, as he teetered a split-second on the edge of balance and imbalance, toppling over soon after. He landed on something soft, thankfully. The bad news was, his cushion had a temper.
Blinking rapidly to rid himself of the dazedness that had descended upon his mind, the red-head tilted his head downwards towards the medic he was now sprawled atop of.
Giving Sakura a heatedly dangerous sneer, Gaara whispered, "...Caught you."
A blank stare was all that Sakura could muster as she fought for breath, the solid weight pinning her down and only making it harder to refill her lungs. But too soon the implications of those two words and the all too sure tone that they'd been delivered in...
"You only caught me because I stopped," she practically growled, shoving at his shoulder so that she could actually breathe. Her clothes snagged against the rough pavement as she did her best to shimmy out from underneath her stalker (she could officially label him as such now, though to be able to categorize him didn't really help her mind all that much), trying to get some distance between them again before his perverted tendencies kicked in again.
"There is seriously something wrong in that head of yours, you can't treat people like this! You can't go making perverted requests of a practical stranger! And then you can't chase them when they retaliate against you for it you weirdo!" As was the case before, this guy brought out the worst possible aspects of her time and time again, as was clearly evident in her not so gentle pushes and shoves to try and squirm her way out from this very uncomfortable and overly suggestive position - not a good thing when dealing with a pervert anyway.
His hunter's instinct willed him to stay where he was, chanting over and over in his head that his best option was to keep her motionless. His hate for touch suggested otherwise, and it was this last one that won out - not because he couldn't stand her near him, though. Quite the contrary, actually. It was the fact that her touch made his skin shiver, instead of crawl, that pushed him to move away.
Righting himself quickly, Gaara stared down at the girl with what could only be described as disdain. He was disgusted with himself that he had let her live for so long; sickened by the fact that his curiosity had fixated itself on this strange girl, and he could not redirect it.
And he blamed her for everything.
Growling dangerously, the red-head slit his eyes and glared down at Sakura - the thought to help her up never crossed his mind.
"Perverted requests?" His voice no longer held that smug, self-assured tone. It was pure anger that wove within the threads of his words. "I'm only here so you can finish your job. Thesestich-"
He never got to finish his sentence. The trash can that had been knocked over earlier was suddenly hurled in his direction - someone had kicked it. The loud bang of a shoe hitting metal sent Gaara's instincts in a frenzy, and before the large projectile could touch him, he had pivoted out of the way - closer to Sakura, yes, but that was merely coincidence.
The slightly-crouched, near protective stance he took up in front of her was just a coincidence, too... Or so he kept telling himself.
The trash can ricocheted off the brick wall and landed somewhere out of the way. The man who kicked it was just a silhouette - a dark shadow standing against the light -, until he stepped forward.
"Well, well. Look wha' we got 'ere."
Gaara slit his eyes, that familiar smirk sliding into place. His blood was boiling at the prospect of a fight - it might do him some good to shed some blood, so his anger might not be directed so pungently towards the pink-haired girl behind him.
Sakura had just been about to reach up for a quick rake of her fingernails to Gaara's face when suddenly that warm body wasn't there any more and the deafening sound of hollow tin echoed through the alleyway. For a moment she continued to lay there, unsure of what exactly was going on but the reappearance of the cold rain woke her from her stupor and she hurriedly scooted back, feet slipping on the slick pavement as she tried to pull herself off the ground. Granted this newest development only worked in her favor, she couldn't help but notice a difference in the dangerous threat of Gaara and this other new threat...and she wasn't too sure that she liked it. Regardless, she slid back, trying to meld with the shadows in the alley as her stalker and this new person stared each other down, trying best to disappear completely.
Or at least that was the plan until she backed herself into a more pliable wall then expected - one that locked it's arm around her waist and a big meaty hand over her mouth before she could utter a sound.
Something bubbled up from the depths of Gaara's being - something that made his heart ache, and his throat tighten as he watched this newcomer stalk towards him in a lazy (stupid) manner.
Injustice.
That girl... Sakura... was his. Her interest was his, her arguments were his... her death would be carried out by his hands. It wasn't right for someone to try and steal something that belonged to him.
"Pretty lil' girl ya' got there," the man said, stepping into the dim, hazy light that streaked lazily across the alley walls. "Mind if I take 'er out for ya'? 'M sure she won't mind." He sneered, then, which only made Gaara curl up his lip in a vicious snarl.
He had degenerated to a wordless state by now - he expressed himself in a defensive, dangerous crouch, and verbalized his distaste in the form of growls and snarls. His hand shifted lower, settling in his pocket so he could wrap his fingers around the handle of his knife. The movement was slow and unobtrusive enough to not be noticed. Instead of wasting his time taunting with this man - Gaara had the pink-haired medic to taunt, now didn't he? - the red-head looked for any openings, then lunged forwards when he spotted one.
The stranger didn't know what was happening. One moment he had stepped forward, ready to pull out the pistol stashed in the back of his pants, and the next...
The next, Gaara had thrust the blade of his knife straight into the other's stomach, cutting a deep, jagged line through the flesh and cloth hung up on the gleaming metal. One hand clamped around the other's throat, cutting off his air supply, and his entire being was focused on bringing him down.
He didn't notice the commotion going on just behind him.
Sakura thrashed against the vicious hold, fingernails gouging into the thick arms binding her into place. She wanted to scream, to draw herassaulter's attention back towards her but all breath was robbed from her with the gleam of metal in the other's hand, before both disappeared in the darkness between them. Unnaturally widened eyes grew even larger with the hot breath she could feel burning against the clammy skin of her shoulder, her nostrils flaring as her own breathing quickened with the realization that she and she alone held the attention of her own unwelcome guest.
"Guess them people really knew what the're talkin' 'bout when they go preachin' 'bout patience. My buddy got stuck w'yer boyfriend but 'cause I waited, I get to play with such a pretty lil thin'...Who'da thunk it?"
The hand gripped firmly over her mouth pressed her head back against his chest firmly, angling it back so that she could she thegapped tooth leer shining down at her and holding it in place. Her heart jumped another foot into her throat as she felt her feet drag back another couple of feet - another couple of feet into the darkness of the alleyway and a couple more feet away from where the last person in the earth she wanted to see that night was completely ignorant of what was going on behind him. But even as the shadows enveloped the two of them, that iron band around her squirming waist loosened slightly, still hooked over her hip to hold her in place but the hand skimmed against skin this time, those grubby fingers mapping out the smooth plane of her stomach even as she whimpered behind the man's palm.
It was barely a conscious thought. Gaara had been hovering over his own victim, knife in hand, hand held high to deliver a final killing blow along the man's jugular - the spray of blood would have been a magnificent show -, when those words flit across his mind.
The girl.
He froze, staring down at the man writhing in agony beneath him, wild eyes widening a fraction when his mind caught up to his instincts.
... Didn't men like this run in packs?
The idea was staggering enough to make him loosen his grip on the handle of his blade, and toss a worried glance behind him. His eyes met only darkness.
Growling low in his throat, the red-head pushed off of the man he had been straddling - he was injured enough to make any kind of threatening movement obsolete -, and turned his attention to the shadows beyond. He paused a moment, squinting his eyes to try and make out any figures in the darkness, then startled when he saw two silhouetted figures scuffling in what appeared to be a hopeless fight.
No.
He wouldn't allow this. He didn't know why he wouldn't allow it, save for the fact that he now viewed that pink-headed girl as his possession. If anyone were to dare touch her, it would be him.
"Let go of her," he intoned evenly, stepping closer and trying to contain the intense hatred surging through his veins and making his body shake.
The silent threat to hold still was reiterated with another sharp tug pushing her head back into his chest, effectively baring her throat like a lamb's for the slaughter. The knowledge that it would take very little to snap her neck in such a position was the only thing limiting her struggles, having nothing tangible to fight back with - all she could do was stand there and hope for some sort of divine intervention.
And while it wasn't necessarily her knight in shining armor, that familiar low rumble still cut through the deafening sound of her pounding heart and she cracked open her eyes to see Gaara hovering in front of her. Unconsciously, her eyes dropped down to the stained metal he was brandishing and then to the other form that seemed miles away. Even when caught between two other psychos she couldn't help the small shiver of relief seeing the other still moving just over Gaara's shoulder.
Severely maiming she could handle. Anything more...she honestly didn't think she could stomach despite the other's obvious intents. And despite the fact all of his threats amounted to nothing in her case, Sakura didn't doubt Gaara's capabilities in the slightest.
The groping hand paused in it's exploring with Gaara's attention focused wholly on the two of them, instead jerking her to the side to become his shield rather then his toy.
"Now, now, now, lets not do anythin' rash now. Was jus' keep'n yer pretty lil girl company while y'were off play'n w' tha' asshole o'er there. Right girlie? Havin' ourselves a good ol' time, weren't we?" He punctuated his taunting words with a slow drag of his tongue from the base of Sakura's jaw to her temple, his smirk widening further by her flinching and another whimper muffled by his hand.
Gaara growled low in his throat, the knife in his hand making an indention where he clutched it too hard. The sound of the other man struggling in the background was evidence enough that the red-head was not someone to be messed with. And that had been done when he was calm. Now that he had been antagonized - now that one of his possessions had been threatened -, he had no doubt in his mind that the man holding the medic captive would pay.
Maybe he would go for the stomach? Rip a hole through his body, and let his insides spill out before delivering a final blow.
The stranger licked a line up Sakura's face, making Gaara's own features twist into a look of pure malice.
...Maybe he wouldn't deliver that final blow, and just leave the man to die a slow death.
"Let. Her. Go." Each word punctuated, emphasized, so his point would get across. The agonized whimpers from the shadow behind him only seemed to bring more definition to just how cruel the red-head could be.
"She's mine."
Date: Late June 30th
Location: Streets of Celo, Sakura's apartment
Warnings/Notes: PG-13; Violence, language, blood, Gaara's general creepiness
Summary: A simple stroll home after a busy day at work goes terribly awry.
Well, damn.
He had sworn he would deal with his wound, when the time came. He had promised himself to steer clear of that wretched pink-haired wench. She had tricked him; had forced his hand into giving her his... (He shuddered to think about it)... trust. And now, standing in front of the oh-so-familiar clinic - he'd been there once before -, Gaara found that he wasn't quite sure what to do.
What was he supposed to do, in a situation like this? He didn't trust her - or himself, really - enough to meet her in her element. There were just way too many sharp things that might be too tempting for a frazzled victim to ignore.
Still, the clouds had grown thick and heavy with rain, and a light drizzle had already picked up. His more recent wound protested this fact - it ached, oddly enough.
Stubborn as ever, though, the red-head crossed his arms and leaned against the building opposite the clinic, the lines of his face drawn in brooding concentration. He was waiting...
Waiting for Sakura.
It had been a long night.
Granted, things were still far quieter then usual with all of the barricades keeping the majority of her clientele away but she was still tired. There had been the prerequisite number of knife wounds and bumps and bruises to pass the time away and keep her moving through-out the very, very long twelve hour stretch.
She was sure her feet were probably a whole other size larger then what they were when she started out that morning.
There was a quick check to make sure everything was turned off and things were in their proper place before she reached out and turned off all but the emergency lights, a relieved sigh escaping from her lips as she finally got to escape, almost gleefully turning about to lock the door behind her.
The streets were quiet, barely even a soldier to be seen wandering about.
She was on the move. Gaara debated on whether or not he should come right out and confront her, but decided against it. They hadn't left on the best of terms, last time.
He moved with the shadows, suddenly grateful for the gloomy sky. It made the dim light of twilight nearly nonexistent. It was a matter of hugging the side alleys, and keeping with the darkness. White light didn't carry far in such dreary weather - the very air seemed soaked with a muggy kind of darkness. Not the best weather for a stroll, but it suited his purposes.
There weren't many Arma or Arceos out tonight - most had been sent to Cena, as reinforcements -, and the few that Gaara had already passed were embarrassingly inattentive.
His mind wasn't fully grasping the importance of a plan, at the moment. The only thing he could think about was: Follow.
A particularly harsh blast of wind ripped a good portion of Sakura's hair out of the already destroyed bun she had painstakingly pinned up early that morning. Moving briskly through a quick alleyway shortcut that trimmed a few minutes off her trip home, it was there that a second set of soft footfalls reached her ears, unnoticeable until now with the walls on either side of her for the noise to reverberate off of. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her purse as she gradually increased her pace, the warnings her mother had hounded her with prior to her relocation always coming back to haunt her in moments like these.
Because, really, she wasn't that paranoid. Really she wasn't.
But it certainly wouldn't have hurt to have one of those 20lb old lady purses at the moment, something she could swing around and knock someone out cold with.
Stupid.
Absolutely stupid.
Gaara might have hoped for a little challenge, a little thrill in following this medic. The moment she turned down an empty alleyway, his high dissipated. Someone clueless enough to put themselves in that kind of danger...
Well, they were barely worth killing.
He wasn't here to kill her - yet -, though. He was here to have her mend a few new wounds, and finish her job on the old one.
The set of her shoulders changed as his presence was made known. There was a certain tenseness about her - her body seemed to sense him there before her mind could catch up with it. He could see the struggle play out between her shoulder blades, her hands, the pace and rhythm of her steps.
Pressing himself flush against the wall, Gaara allowed the deepening shadow to engulf his being, evening out his breaths to make them just below unnoticeable.
Any telltale sounds of her unwanted companion disappeared with the light whipping of wind flowing through the pass-through. Even though she held her breath in hope of being able to tell if the other person had perhaps simply taken a wrong turn or were still just traveling in the same general direction that she was.
There were other very decent and normal people who took these odd little off-streets in the desire to shave a few minutes off the trip home.
Obviously, since she was one of said people.
It took quite a bit of self control not to whip her head around to scan the alleyway, instead continued on as if she were completely unaware of the other presence lurking at the edge of her mind, idly reaching down to rummage through her bag without breaking her pace in the slightest.
She was panicking, just a bit. Not enough for it to overwhelm her, or cloud her judgment... but Gaara knew fear when he saw it. Still, the pink-haired medic didn't turn around, and instead kept walking. In a few moments, she would be too far head for him to comfortably follow, so the red-head decided to push off of the wall and pursue.
There was nothing to hide him now. Nothing but wind, and a light drizzle, and the cover of clouds.
He drew closer to her nervous form, intent on revealing himself now - the rain only made his wounds a little more achy.
There was no doubt now, she was being followed, and the irrefutable truth of the matter had Sakura's heart pounding in her throat. The possibility had haunted her every now and again being here in this place that was a whole other world then the one she was familiar with but she'd been lucky. Rin's influence had reached far beyond the clinic when she had first been taken under the other woman's wing and since her mentor's disappearance, Sakura's own brand of 'influence' kept away any questionable figures.
Either that or she just camped out at the clinic far too often to take notice of such people.
Neither excuse helped her in the slightest as she felt the rapidly decreasing distance between her and this other person though, and if wasn't for her crash course in 'don't run from the crazy person as it only makes them want to chase you even more' - she would have torn down the alley like all hell about five minutes ago. Instead she did her damnedest to exude an innocent cluelessness while frantically fumbling around in her purse for something, anything she could use to fend off this creep if he should try anything.
Or if it was Ino playing a trick and then would doubly deserve whatever happened to her for being such a freak.
Her pride still ached from the last time she had found herself helpless at another's hands and Sakura swore to herself that she would not allow herself to be manhandled into any such position ever again. So when she could clearly hear shoes moving against the damp pavement and could almost imagine the heat of another body nearing (she swore she could feel it) her fist clenched around the first thing it could, ripping it out of her purse even as her heel ground into the pavement with a quick twist of her body, her arm swinging around wildly to show this person she meant business - stopping only when she felt her spur-of-the-moment-weapon contact with the hard wall of flesh.
"WhatkindafreakstalksyounggirlsdownalleywaysandwhatinthehelliswrongwithyouGETAWAY!" The long tirade burst forth under the pressure of her calm facade finally shattering, which funnily enough worked in harmony with the splintering feel of her impromptu weapon doing the same in her hand.
Five yards turned to four. Four to three. Three... two... One more yard, just a handful of feet left, and he would be right up on the medic. He didn't have a plan, really. Only that she was close, and he needed to be closer, because those annoying wounds of his were aching from the weather, and she was the only one he knew who could mend them.
A moment more, and he would have spoken, would have made his presence known... (Maybe. Frightening this girl seemed wholly amusing, though.)
Half a moment later, she spun around; a wild, almost feral look in her eyes. There was a fierce determination there, a fire that couldn't be quelled by his presence, or dampened by the rain. A spark of madness, too, in a way. Not as deep as his own insanity, but more of a dark desperation. Her pink locks clung to the sides of her face, framing her soft, yet striking visage - bringing sharp contrast between the ferocity of her words, and the gentleness of her features.
He didn't comprehend that the word 'Beautiful' flit through his mind. Gaara barely understood such... human thoughts. But, in a flash of clarity, his madness acquainted such a word with one other: 'Blood.' Gaara blinked, not fully understanding this connection at first. He might have spent more time to think about it, too, if a blunt pressure hadn't jabbed him in the side at that very moment.
Glancing down at the weapon in question, the red-head could only smirk.
"A tongue depressor? Do you really think me so harmless?"
Of every weirdo or psychotic killer that existed in their world, why did it have to turn out for him to have been her stalker?
For a moment she gaped openly, her mind still trying to register the damp red hair, the same scowly face though it was leaning more towards amused at the moment - and far less blood and skin then the last time but the end result was the same.
"What in the hell is your problem! You don't go sneaking up behind women in dark alleyways! If I had been anyone else I could have shot you!" Her exasperation was getting the better of her, even knowing what had happened the last time she had the misfortune of meeting this guy but this time there was no cramped elevator or dark lobby for her to be confined in and here, well. Screams echoed very nicely in wide open areas such as these.
Sakura was gearing up from a completely spastic fit when his only words finally sunk into her brain and she glanced down quickly at the splintered piece of balsa wood in her hand, that was still partially jabbed into Gaara's ribcage.
Pity it wasn't a knife.
She tossed the destroyed tongue depressor off to the side as if to toss away the evidence of her poor choice in weapons but her cheeks more then gave her away with the light flush of her anger and embarrassment.
He couldn't help but chuckle at the look on her face. That intensely strong will to survive had crumpled at seeing him. Now she just looked annoyed. A bit frazzled by the confrontation, yes, but mostly just an underlying current of frustration tainted her features. Amusing.
Gaara smirked, taking a step closer when the wooden obstacle was removed from his side. He knew no such thing as personal space - only the kind that benefited him and his own odd touch-based needs. Or lack of them, rather.
Admittedly, the light blush tinting her cheeks was half-way intriguing. He leaned in a bit to get a better look.
"If you had been anyone else, I would have killed you." His tone was almost pleasant, not threatening in the least - genuine, even -, which only served to make his words seem all the more demented.
It was purely instinctive, the urge to step back to replace the distance between them, a meager one to be sure but more then what was there a second ago. Already this was resembling their last encounter a little too closely and after that disastrous and traumatizing evening, Sakura was having none of it.
"You know, I've heard this song before. And I was sick of it the last time I had this misfortune of bumping into you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a friend of mine expecting me."
Of course it was a blatant lie, but it wasn't like he would know any different.
Gaara had been following this girl for a little while now. He knew her routine, her schedule. He knew that she came into work at an impossibly god-awful hour of the morning; knew that she didn't leave until every last medic on call had clocked out.
And he certainly knew that she didn't go see 'friends' after a busy day at work.
"No, you don't." His smirk only widened.
For a brief moment, Sakura merely responded instinctively to uphold her lie.
"Of course I do, I told my best friend I'd help her bleach out her roots...." her voice trailed off as his words finally sunk in and her glare hardened further as their knowledgeable tone pricked her nerves.
"....And just what makes you the authority on what my plans are? You don't know anything about me let alone what I have made arrangements to do with my own time. Go find someone else to torment because I'm not putting up with this again." With the harsh set of her words she turned on her heel and made to continue walking.
And he followed right on her heels. Gaara lived with Anko. He was used to verbal assaults, and would most assuredly be ready for a physical one, if this girl got up enough courage - or annoyance - to attack him in such a way. He was curious, too, as to where she might be going. Despite the time he had spent watching her at work, Gaara had yet to actually follow her home. His boredom didn't reach that far, but now, with her antagonizing him, the idea seemed pleasant enough.
Her reactions might be even more violent, if he were to provoke her on her own turf.
A part of him thought, too, that with the rising crime in Celo, this little medic shouldn't be wandering the streets alone at night, anyways. Despite what she may have thought, Gaara wasn't the worst person who could have found her. In fact, with his current mindset, he may have been the best.
He wouldn't kill her. He wouldn't physically harm her in any way. Yet. He was intrigued, and in this curiosity, would become her inadvertent 'protector' if the need arose.
"I know you like chocolate covered pretzels," he said offhandedly, still in step with her, but hanging back and to her left by half a foot.
Sakura's teeth were almost grinding audibly by this point, the sheer audacity of this little troll actually seeking her out after his treatment of her before. And if all that wasn't bad enough he was still following her and talking to he-wait what?
She stopped dead in her tracks with that seemingly innocent statement running track through her brain.
"...And just why would you think that?"
He nearly ran into her from behind, but shifted his body to miss her frozen form at just the right moment. The rain seemed to pick up, clinging to his blood red hair, darkening the locks and turning them a deep shade of burgundy. His eyes, too, had darkened with the weather, the deep rings of black giving him an almost brooding look.
Gaara blinked once, then lowered his voice, speaking softly.
"Because you eat them every day."
It was true, from what he knew. The several occasions he had watched Sakura from afar, working on her patients in the hospital, busying herself with menial tasks that only she seemed capable of doing right, he had noticed a few things. Her food of choice being one of them.
Her heart rose up into her throat another few inches with another seemingly innocent observation.
"That's really odd to hear coming from someone whom I haven't laid eyes on since I ran like hell away from you nearly a month ago." Her tone was almost conversational even though a flare of temper was building its way into a hotflashover once she got the confirmation that was only an admission or slip of the tongue away.
His self-assuredness with her 'plans' and now this little revelation was only heading towards one disturbing conclusion - her little ticks of paranoia weren't just paranoia anymore, but instead a founded reason for feeling as though there was someone watching her.
He merely smirked, not responding to her baited comment in the least. But he let her know, through the look he was giving her, that yes; her assumptions were correct. Sometimes it was best to follow your instincts, even when those feelings felt too paranoid to be true. Gaara knew this by personal experience.
Crossing his arms, he straightened up, leaning a bit on his left leg. In an odd sense, he wanted Sakura to feel less uneasy around him, for now. He needed her help, after all, and it wouldn't do to have her frightened - or angry - out of wit's end. Blinking away the rain drops that had fallen to his lashes, the insomniac tilted his head and gave the medic a curious look.
... And asked the most untactful question he could possibly have asked at this moment.
"Where do you live?"
It was all that Sakura could do to not bash him in the head with her purse. The sheer audacity of the guy to even ask her such a thing after more or less admitting to stalking her!
"I knew I should have screamed for the Arma the first chance I had," she growled through tightly gritted teeth, glaring him down for all that it was worth. Fingernails dug harshly into her palm as she fought for self-restraint. It had been a long day with no breaks at the clinic, she was tired, she was chilly and now she was wet, the damp mist easily dissolving into a steady shower that saturated everything within minutes. And now she's realizing she has an honest-to-God stalker.
Freaking fantastic.
"If you don't already know, I'm sure as hell not telling you. I have nothing for you, why can't you just leave me alone?"
His grin was a disturbingly smart-assed replica of one of Kankuro's own trademarked sneers.
"But you didn't," he reminded her unnecessarily.
He could see the stress taking a toll on her nerves, and his gaze shifted to her hand as he took in what else she had to say.
"Nothing... for me...?" His voice sounded wistful, if a bit confused. What? She thought he was here to steal from her? He chuckled at the thought, closing his eyes for a moment and shifting from foot-to-foot. When he opened them back up, his bright jade gaze had settled back on her face.
"You can do something for me," he asked suggestively - though not in the 'suggestive' way most people would attribute the words to. His meaning was expressed through the hand he settled across his stomach. Across the stitches that were still sewn securely into his skin.
The rain picked up.
It wasn't necessarily the tone it was said in, it was just the fact that those words were said at all. For a moment Sakura just stood there blankly, her long work day and the rain both doing their part to destroy the intricate bun she had fought her hair up into, the pink tresses now clinging to her head like helmet in the rain. But that moment passed very quickly and she was instinctively moving, her arm swinging around using her purse as the ballast as she swung it forward hard.
Too late, her mind caught up with the physical momentum just as the bag impacted the side of Gaara's head.
Light green eyes widened comically as did the rapidly growing 'O' of her mouth, the full weight of what she just did slowly sinking into her mind. Instinctively she stepped back a few paces to avoid any instantaneous retaliation. When nothing happened immediately, Sakura took advantage of the apparent stun tactic, turning quickly on her heel and bolting out of the alleyway.
The rain washed away any semblance of beauty she may have possessed in his twisted mind. Now, he only saw her in the foggy haze of the increasing downpour they had been standing in since the beginning of their conversation. Night was coming on quickly, and with the dull gray clouds hovering above, a certain darkness had descended upon the White District.
His hand was still resting gently against his stomach, though his eyes had strayed to a ridge in the side of the road, his gaze following the progress of a little temporary stream. When he glanced back, instead of seeing the frightened face of the medic he had been terrorizing, he only saw a streak of tan as it blurred out of view.
...Out of view, and directly against the side of his head.
Gaara stumbled a few steps backwards, his hand rising to thread through blood red locks, palm pressed gingerly against the spot where he had been struck.
Wait, struck? He waited a few moments, anticipating the familiar sensation of his instincts overriding his common sense. He waited for the natural reaction of attack to intoxicate his mind; waited for defend, defend, defend, to overload his senses.
It never came.
Blinking rapidly to clear his mind of the haze it had been put under, Gaara looked up, only to find he was staring at the back of Sakura's head, instead of the front. It wasn't until she rounded a corner that he realized exactly what had happened. That he had been hit - that this weak little girl had landed a blow on him...
And that she was running away right now.
That last part stuck with him the most, and in a matter of moments, Gaara found his feet moving swiftly in the direction she had fled.
Sensible rubber soles slapped harshly against the pavement, kicking up puddles of muck and rainwater as she fought to put as much distance between her and the red-headed menace as humanly possible.
What in the hell had she been thinking?!
Last time she hadn’t even really struck out at him and she had been covered in her fair share of bumps and bruises…if he actually got a hold of her this time?
The hell with that.
Harsh breathing echoed off the silent buildings, nearly lost in the cacophony of rainfall that drenched the city. Buildings and signs passed by unseen as she ran on pure instinct alone, not looking back just focusing on getting away.
So when she rounded the block and her own apartment building came into sight, Sakura skidded forward a few paces and wholeheartedly cursed herself for not paying attention.
It certainly didn’t do to lead the bastard to the very place she didn’t want him to find. A quick glance over her shoulder showed the redhead closing in quickly. Abruptly turning in a completely different direction, Sakura began to run again, rapidly turning corners and eyeing potential hiding places all the while.
Like a hunter following after the trail of its prey, Gaara's mind seemed to stir into a frenzy; every instinct screaming at him to not lose her, every muscle tight with tension, ready to pounce. She had had a head-start to this little chase, but the red-head caught up soon enough. He was used to running, after all. Used to hunting down people as if they were nothing more than mere animals, placed on this earth to better amuse him.
He wasn't amused now, though. If anything, the fury in his veins had overrode his senses - more powerful and volatile than any amount of adrenaline.
She hesitated a moment, and Gaara took advantage of her pause to push forward with an extra burst of speed. The girl was nimble, he would give her that, but there was simply no way she could escape him now. He wouldn't allow it.
Growling like a panther having just caught the scent of fear mingling with the delicious anticipation of a successful kill, the insomniac inched closer to the girl, his feet splashing carelessly through the many puddles lining the street.
Oh, she would regret her actions, mark his words.
His footsteps were louder now, sounding as though he was right on top of her though she didn’t dare turn around again and lose even more ground. Panic bubbled up in her throat with what she imagined to be his harsh breath wafting against the back of her neck, urging her to jolt forward, to get away. Her chest was heaving from the unexpected exertion, burning as she pushed herself to run harder and faster and faster.
There was a loud crash as she rounded a corner just a little too closely without seeing a trash can blocking the way, just barely keeping upright as she pushed herself forward. Had she had known that this was what she had to look forward to, Sakura would have just crashed at the clinic, not like it wouldn't be the first time, after all. It was as if she hadn't been punished enough by their first encounter, that she would have start the torment of it all over again and that's when she decided that running herself to the point of exhaustion was useless - causing her to stop dead in her tracks before turning around to face Gaara dead on.
He was so close now, he could hear her harsh puffs of breath, could practically smell the shampoo she used to wash her hair with that morning. Droplets of water flew back, flinging from the ends of her pink locks, to land harmlessly against his cheeks. Two more seconds, and she would be within reach - close enough for him tug her to a halt, and spin her around to face him.
Turns out, she did her own spinning.
Gaara barely had time to register the fact that she had stopped dead in her tracks and turned around to face him, before he went hurtling into her prone form.
Sakura had just opened her mouth to really give him a piece of her mind when the impact knocked whatever air she had remaining in her lungs out and just when she thought that things couldn't get any worse, her rear impacted the ground with a jarring amount of force and Sakura found herself sprawled out on the pavement of some random alleyway with some psycho-maniac who was probably about to kill her at any given moment.
Lord knows he'd threatened her with that enough before.
And then he was falling. The rush of wind through his ears was unmistakable, and in a last-ditch effort to right himself, Gaara grabbed the girl's shoulders and pushed. It only served to make her hit the ground sooner, as he teetered a split-second on the edge of balance and imbalance, toppling over soon after. He landed on something soft, thankfully. The bad news was, his cushion had a temper.
Blinking rapidly to rid himself of the dazedness that had descended upon his mind, the red-head tilted his head downwards towards the medic he was now sprawled atop of.
Giving Sakura a heatedly dangerous sneer, Gaara whispered, "...Caught you."
A blank stare was all that Sakura could muster as she fought for breath, the solid weight pinning her down and only making it harder to refill her lungs. But too soon the implications of those two words and the all too sure tone that they'd been delivered in...
"You only caught me because I stopped," she practically growled, shoving at his shoulder so that she could actually breathe. Her clothes snagged against the rough pavement as she did her best to shimmy out from underneath her stalker (she could officially label him as such now, though to be able to categorize him didn't really help her mind all that much), trying to get some distance between them again before his perverted tendencies kicked in again.
"There is seriously something wrong in that head of yours, you can't treat people like this! You can't go making perverted requests of a practical stranger! And then you can't chase them when they retaliate against you for it you weirdo!" As was the case before, this guy brought out the worst possible aspects of her time and time again, as was clearly evident in her not so gentle pushes and shoves to try and squirm her way out from this very uncomfortable and overly suggestive position - not a good thing when dealing with a pervert anyway.
His hunter's instinct willed him to stay where he was, chanting over and over in his head that his best option was to keep her motionless. His hate for touch suggested otherwise, and it was this last one that won out - not because he couldn't stand her near him, though. Quite the contrary, actually. It was the fact that her touch made his skin shiver, instead of crawl, that pushed him to move away.
Righting himself quickly, Gaara stared down at the girl with what could only be described as disdain. He was disgusted with himself that he had let her live for so long; sickened by the fact that his curiosity had fixated itself on this strange girl, and he could not redirect it.
And he blamed her for everything.
Growling dangerously, the red-head slit his eyes and glared down at Sakura - the thought to help her up never crossed his mind.
"Perverted requests?" His voice no longer held that smug, self-assured tone. It was pure anger that wove within the threads of his words. "I'm only here so you can finish your job. Thesestich-"
He never got to finish his sentence. The trash can that had been knocked over earlier was suddenly hurled in his direction - someone had kicked it. The loud bang of a shoe hitting metal sent Gaara's instincts in a frenzy, and before the large projectile could touch him, he had pivoted out of the way - closer to Sakura, yes, but that was merely coincidence.
The slightly-crouched, near protective stance he took up in front of her was just a coincidence, too... Or so he kept telling himself.
The trash can ricocheted off the brick wall and landed somewhere out of the way. The man who kicked it was just a silhouette - a dark shadow standing against the light -, until he stepped forward.
"Well, well. Look wha' we got 'ere."
Gaara slit his eyes, that familiar smirk sliding into place. His blood was boiling at the prospect of a fight - it might do him some good to shed some blood, so his anger might not be directed so pungently towards the pink-haired girl behind him.
Sakura had just been about to reach up for a quick rake of her fingernails to Gaara's face when suddenly that warm body wasn't there any more and the deafening sound of hollow tin echoed through the alleyway. For a moment she continued to lay there, unsure of what exactly was going on but the reappearance of the cold rain woke her from her stupor and she hurriedly scooted back, feet slipping on the slick pavement as she tried to pull herself off the ground. Granted this newest development only worked in her favor, she couldn't help but notice a difference in the dangerous threat of Gaara and this other new threat...and she wasn't too sure that she liked it. Regardless, she slid back, trying to meld with the shadows in the alley as her stalker and this new person stared each other down, trying best to disappear completely.
Or at least that was the plan until she backed herself into a more pliable wall then expected - one that locked it's arm around her waist and a big meaty hand over her mouth before she could utter a sound.
Something bubbled up from the depths of Gaara's being - something that made his heart ache, and his throat tighten as he watched this newcomer stalk towards him in a lazy (stupid) manner.
Injustice.
That girl... Sakura... was his. Her interest was his, her arguments were his... her death would be carried out by his hands. It wasn't right for someone to try and steal something that belonged to him.
"Pretty lil' girl ya' got there," the man said, stepping into the dim, hazy light that streaked lazily across the alley walls. "Mind if I take 'er out for ya'? 'M sure she won't mind." He sneered, then, which only made Gaara curl up his lip in a vicious snarl.
He had degenerated to a wordless state by now - he expressed himself in a defensive, dangerous crouch, and verbalized his distaste in the form of growls and snarls. His hand shifted lower, settling in his pocket so he could wrap his fingers around the handle of his knife. The movement was slow and unobtrusive enough to not be noticed. Instead of wasting his time taunting with this man - Gaara had the pink-haired medic to taunt, now didn't he? - the red-head looked for any openings, then lunged forwards when he spotted one.
The stranger didn't know what was happening. One moment he had stepped forward, ready to pull out the pistol stashed in the back of his pants, and the next...
The next, Gaara had thrust the blade of his knife straight into the other's stomach, cutting a deep, jagged line through the flesh and cloth hung up on the gleaming metal. One hand clamped around the other's throat, cutting off his air supply, and his entire being was focused on bringing him down.
He didn't notice the commotion going on just behind him.
Sakura thrashed against the vicious hold, fingernails gouging into the thick arms binding her into place. She wanted to scream, to draw herassaulter's attention back towards her but all breath was robbed from her with the gleam of metal in the other's hand, before both disappeared in the darkness between them. Unnaturally widened eyes grew even larger with the hot breath she could feel burning against the clammy skin of her shoulder, her nostrils flaring as her own breathing quickened with the realization that she and she alone held the attention of her own unwelcome guest.
"Guess them people really knew what the're talkin' 'bout when they go preachin' 'bout patience. My buddy got stuck w'yer boyfriend but 'cause I waited, I get to play with such a pretty lil thin'...Who'da thunk it?"
The hand gripped firmly over her mouth pressed her head back against his chest firmly, angling it back so that she could she thegapped tooth leer shining down at her and holding it in place. Her heart jumped another foot into her throat as she felt her feet drag back another couple of feet - another couple of feet into the darkness of the alleyway and a couple more feet away from where the last person in the earth she wanted to see that night was completely ignorant of what was going on behind him. But even as the shadows enveloped the two of them, that iron band around her squirming waist loosened slightly, still hooked over her hip to hold her in place but the hand skimmed against skin this time, those grubby fingers mapping out the smooth plane of her stomach even as she whimpered behind the man's palm.
It was barely a conscious thought. Gaara had been hovering over his own victim, knife in hand, hand held high to deliver a final killing blow along the man's jugular - the spray of blood would have been a magnificent show -, when those words flit across his mind.
The girl.
He froze, staring down at the man writhing in agony beneath him, wild eyes widening a fraction when his mind caught up to his instincts.
... Didn't men like this run in packs?
The idea was staggering enough to make him loosen his grip on the handle of his blade, and toss a worried glance behind him. His eyes met only darkness.
Growling low in his throat, the red-head pushed off of the man he had been straddling - he was injured enough to make any kind of threatening movement obsolete -, and turned his attention to the shadows beyond. He paused a moment, squinting his eyes to try and make out any figures in the darkness, then startled when he saw two silhouetted figures scuffling in what appeared to be a hopeless fight.
No.
He wouldn't allow this. He didn't know why he wouldn't allow it, save for the fact that he now viewed that pink-headed girl as his possession. If anyone were to dare touch her, it would be him.
"Let go of her," he intoned evenly, stepping closer and trying to contain the intense hatred surging through his veins and making his body shake.
The silent threat to hold still was reiterated with another sharp tug pushing her head back into his chest, effectively baring her throat like a lamb's for the slaughter. The knowledge that it would take very little to snap her neck in such a position was the only thing limiting her struggles, having nothing tangible to fight back with - all she could do was stand there and hope for some sort of divine intervention.
And while it wasn't necessarily her knight in shining armor, that familiar low rumble still cut through the deafening sound of her pounding heart and she cracked open her eyes to see Gaara hovering in front of her. Unconsciously, her eyes dropped down to the stained metal he was brandishing and then to the other form that seemed miles away. Even when caught between two other psychos she couldn't help the small shiver of relief seeing the other still moving just over Gaara's shoulder.
Severely maiming she could handle. Anything more...she honestly didn't think she could stomach despite the other's obvious intents. And despite the fact all of his threats amounted to nothing in her case, Sakura didn't doubt Gaara's capabilities in the slightest.
The groping hand paused in it's exploring with Gaara's attention focused wholly on the two of them, instead jerking her to the side to become his shield rather then his toy.
"Now, now, now, lets not do anythin' rash now. Was jus' keep'n yer pretty lil girl company while y'were off play'n w' tha' asshole o'er there. Right girlie? Havin' ourselves a good ol' time, weren't we?" He punctuated his taunting words with a slow drag of his tongue from the base of Sakura's jaw to her temple, his smirk widening further by her flinching and another whimper muffled by his hand.
Gaara growled low in his throat, the knife in his hand making an indention where he clutched it too hard. The sound of the other man struggling in the background was evidence enough that the red-head was not someone to be messed with. And that had been done when he was calm. Now that he had been antagonized - now that one of his possessions had been threatened -, he had no doubt in his mind that the man holding the medic captive would pay.
Maybe he would go for the stomach? Rip a hole through his body, and let his insides spill out before delivering a final blow.
The stranger licked a line up Sakura's face, making Gaara's own features twist into a look of pure malice.
...Maybe he wouldn't deliver that final blow, and just leave the man to die a slow death.
"Let. Her. Go." Each word punctuated, emphasized, so his point would get across. The agonized whimpers from the shadow behind him only seemed to bring more definition to just how cruel the red-head could be.
"She's mine."