Chapter 18
At the early morning due, he walked to secure the area, the constant threat of an ambush was fresh on his memory. Last time he was prepared but caught completely off guard, many lives were lost on that night, faces of people he barely knew but she did.
She remembered their names, their birthdays and what they preferred to eat. The mass funeral had to be quick and bittersweet. His memories of her struggling to keep everyone alive and responding to her treatments were imbedded into his mind.
Gaara wasn't much of a healer, all he knew was how to kill and defend, his wounds would be minor as the sand kept him from danger. So, he barely needed to seek out her medical touch, but he still did.
Not because he was concerned by the possibility of being poisoned or by an infected wound, but because when he had just a few cuts and scraped, she would worry.
After she lost her beloved teacher, she became the one responsible for everyone's health and safety. Those times he would sport a small hairline scratch on his face or on his hands from his own training, she would rush to him and create a peaceful bubble of just someone caring for another.
A small gesture that she was more than capable of treating and would mean her patient would survive. It gave her purpose, and it made him gullible to allowing her touch.
Because, every time she had a patient, he saw her resolve start to crumble. As the war went on, the medic who had a perfect survival score on her patients became nothing amongst the dozens of bodies they had to bury the next day.
There wasn't enough manpower to keep up with the injuries and poisoned victims of the war. Death and sickness were a daily occurrence, and it ate her up day by day, patient by patient.
They would talk, small moments of truths shared between the pink haired medic who needed someone solid to proudly take care of and not see them witter away by their cruel world.
He was one of the most important figures of his people during this period, and the pressure was on her to keep him on his best. She did not crumble under that pressure; her mind was stronger than to let comments and orders to get the better of her.
Their first conversation was as simple as any other normal person would have. The weather – how ironic. She loved bright blue skies and fluffy clouds that drifted leisurely with the cool breeze. He liked the calm nights with nothing but the dreams of thousands of his people adoring the night sky with those small diamonds that felt so far to reach.
Stars that would never be bothered by their world and would continue to shine no matter what.
The next few conversations had to change as the sky began to drift into a murky dark neverland of death, grey clouds rained on them, and black smoke was often in the distance. They talked about their first time meeting each other, she was honest about her fears over his strength. – "I did believe you could kill me at any point, but I was more afraid of them having no one to help them once I was gone." – she told him. – "But I am glad- and surprised- by how hard you worked and how far you've come. I spoke with Temari, and she told me all about your new life." – she would continue on about how the old Gaara was just an episode of his life he should never be ashamed of, because "It builds the future of our decisions".
She was honest about how much she felt those ranging emotions of shame, fear and regret that pushed her to be violent herself, but in a smaller scale since she held no power like he did. But she understood the change, her violence was just a mask to protect herself when she was a child.
Now that they had to grow up quicker than ever, in their teen years, their character became a complete opposite to their younger years.
- "Gaara, can I be honest with you?" – she whispered as she began cleaning the cuts in his hands. His silence was her cue to continue. – "Once this is all over…" – her eyes shadowed over, small dears boiling at the corners of her eyes. – "I wish I would never remember any of this." –
He could not answer, what would he say? Her notes were the most detailed about the occurrences during the war, her journals were used to report to others what had happened, she was the one to provide the names, dates, and notes about every single dead soldier.
Gaara was even surprised at her when she began to give every detail of the squads that did not belong to her own village, his own people's identity was imbedded into her own mind.
He knew she had lost most of the people she grew up with and those she fought during many missions had long passed on. People she had befriended and loved were now shadows in her eyes. Those beautiful and bright green eyes filled with wonder and hope had died into hard emeralds that could only see what wasn't in front of them.
He wondered – at some point – if she was seeing ghosts. Her eyes would take a sudden interest in a specific point behind him when they talked about the next strategy and her co-workers expressed their worry when the pinket could be seen smiling or talking to thin air.
But he had to assume she was in pain. More than one of his men had begun to lose their own sanity and turn into shells of a person he used to trust to fight.
Sakura kept fighting and saving lives, they could not afford to remove her from the ranks since she still did her job to the best of her knowledge, risking her sanity.
- "I know it sounds so selfish of me." – she continued, her hands were kind and clinical while her mind spoke above her own volition. – "But when Ino died…" – her voice cracked. – "I just could not live with her memories. I could not sleep with all those years of friendship I tossed away for stupid, stupid reasons." – her voice waivered as she berated herself over and over. Fat hot tears falling to the side of her rosy cheeks. – "I just wished I could forget everything. I don't want the dead to be forgotten- I wouldn't want to be forgotten." – her words began to mash up in a surge of statements over how awful her thoughts were and how she should be stronger and better than she was.
- "I am not a good person, no matter how hard I try." – she sobbed. At this point, he had to stop her. Holding her chin lightly, he used his other hand – now clean and taken care of- to now care for her scars.
Invisible scars that haunted the little medic into a sobbing mess. Gently, he brushed away each tear as another fell. – "You are one of the best people I've ever met, Sakura." – her sobs fell silent as those cloudy eyes struggled to stare at him beyond those fat tears, her chin quivered with unspoken words. – "We are very lucky to have you." – he let those words sink in, because they were true.
His own siblings would have died on many occasions if it weren't for her and the way she organized the team of medics and nurses in their makeshift medical tents. The war wouldn't have lasted this long if she hadn't awakened that light green diamond shaped seal on her forehead, summoning the creature that healed hundreds of men and woman.
He admired how much she pushed her body into becoming better each day and hated how much she only saw her own shortcomings and failures as if any other person would be able to do better or even more than she had.
Yes, she had lost many by injuries that were too extensive or poison that was too developed for her hand to treat, but she still did her best and never gave up until their hearts refused to beat once more.
She would forever live with the memories of the soulless faces belonging to the bodies of people she once knew and laughed with.
Gaara only saw the reports and numbers decreasing on each of her reports. To him, he was having a vail over his head that kept him from seeing the picture of death and only the level-headed thoughts of how to deal with the next step in a war-filled world.
So, he would comfort her. – "Then do it, once it all ends. Forget it." – he wanted to push those shadows away, keep the Sakura they all needed. – "Once the war ends, we will need to rebuild it all." – another hard fact, a hope of the war leaving some survivors to live on. – "Once it all ends, we will start over." –
But he could never hold up to that, his last moments alive were filled with her shouts as he drifted away into nothingness. She yelled and cried out his name. – "You have to live!" – she continued, but his body felt numb. – "Please, I can't do this without you!" – his eyes would no longer respond to him, his breaths were shallow, and his heart would beat his last seconds of life in this cruel world.
He lost everything.
The movement beside him caught his attention, in that same room, in the dorms of squad 11. Under the moonlight of another day about to start over, she was resting her eyes. The shadows that once haunted her were nowhere to be seen, they had all agreed to wait until morning for the others to arrive, hoping someone would jug her memory or have something to add.
But he felt regret over that, how could he live with himself when she once wished to forget it all?
Gaara stayed in that room, keeping a watch over her sleeping form as Sasori was on a nightshift. The man who once could never sleep… now back again, keeping watch over the dreams of the small pinket. It was something he felt so familiar about. After arriving in this place, he could feel a freedom over his body that was like no other, this is how everyone else felt when the moon would shine above them, sleepy and tired eyes would let him rest a full night's sleep.
As long as he had someone to watch over, he would never sleep again, he promised.
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