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Alone Together

Summary:

She didn’t care for the white picket fence and 2.5 kids. He didn’t care for kids. They were a match made in anti-social heaven. If they could be bothered to even figure it out. But as luck would have it, they have a friend of a friend in common. This is how two lonely people find each other. GaaSaku. Modern AU

This is for the 2021 GaaSaku Events, on Tumblr. PROMPT: Week 2: Friend of a Friend.

Notes:

I was originally going to make every one-shot in this series/prompt event just canonish but the stories that are coming out are better than what I'd planned (and actually are coming out), so I'm just going with it. Hope you guys like it too. Series name is changed due to this new outlook, as well.

These are coming out slower than I want but I’m determined to have them all done by the end of the fest. So please enjoy. ^_^

(Maybe a waste of time, but this one-shot now has a Spotify playlist: embedded in the fic.)

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.:.

 

“If you're lonely when you're alone, you're in bad company.” ― Jean-Paul Sartre

.

 

“Honey, I’m home!”

Sakura tossed her keys into the bowl near the front door and kicked off her shoes, narrowly missing the shoe rack, and chuckled as she dropped her bag on the floor. She stretched, yawned and sighed, tired and extremely happy to be home. She looked around, suddenly frowning that she was alone.

“Chika?”

Her Birman cat immediately came sashaying out of her bedroom, with an expectant and answering meow. Sakura scooped her up and hugged her to her chest for a few seconds, until Chika pawed at her to be let down, where she proceeded to rub her body along Sakura’s leg.

“And what have you been up to while I was at work?” She asked.

Chika meowed and sat down, looking up at her earnestly.

“Yeah, yeah. Food now, talk later.” She chuckled.

She hummed as she dished out the can to Chika, not really registering the strange happiness that had bubbled up inside her the moment she’d opened the front door. After so many hours at work, even doing something she loved so much, Sakura was always beyond ecstatic to return to her familiar and welcoming apartment. To her cat and the peace and quiet, stress free environment of solitude. She placed the cat bowl on the floor and watched as her elderly cat dug into it immediately. She wasn’t exactly an inexpensive breed but was at least low maintenance; she’d belonged to her parents before deciding that Sakura was her human, and no-one else. Mebuki had been annoyed but Chika’s decision had been final. So, the pinkette had taken her with her, eight years ago, when she moved out of her parents’ home. She’d never been happier, and Chika had gone from being grumpy most of the time to very rarely.

And like a typical Birman, Chika loved being talked to.

“Did you get up to anything exciting while I was gone?” She asked, to which Chika meowed again, between bites. That one sounded sarcastic. She smiled fondly. “Well, I had a great day. Only got thrown up on once. Lucky me.”

Chika’s sound of disgust made her laugh and Sakura talked to her for a few more minutes, knowing she was listening (in her own way) before leaving the cat to her food. After this sixteen-hour shift of emergency rounds and surgery, she was more than ready to just throw herself on her bed for the rest of the night. She was officially on-call at 6am and technically off until that night (if being on-call could be called that) and whenever she had this much time to spare, she barely knew what to do with it. She’d rather be in the operating room, to be honest. Sakura sighed.

For now, she decided to check the messages on her phone. She didn’t have a landline and was too busy at work to look at her mobile phone for the entirety of her shift (it was also too tempting during her breaks: she hated social media), so all the missed calls and texts were almost sixteen hours old.

Ino wanted to meet up for drinks because, “you work too hard, billboard brow” to which Sakura texted back “because I want to, Ino-pig”. She worked in a hospital, for Kami sake, what did the blonde expect? The other important one was from her work bestie, who’d had the day off. She’d sent texts of her day at the beach. Sakura chuckled at the photos of Karin pulling faces and kissing her very frustrated looking boyfriend. She debated what to say back but eventually decided on some surprised, laughing and heart emojis. The redhead would understand, since she too worked insane hours at Konoha Memorial Hospital.

She also had ten missed calls from her mother.

Sakura hesitated because she knew full well what those messages she left would say.

“I just want you to be happy.”

To which Sakura had already and often said, “I already am happy.”

“Working insane hours is not being happy.”

To which Sakura had already and often said, “It is for me.”

“I’m going to need grandchildren eventually, Sakura.”

To which Sakura had already and often said, “Well maybe I don’t want kids.”

Screeching and disappointed sounds always followed that declaration. She wished she could just tell her mother to have another kid and hope for the best. Sakura had only contemplated having a kid once in her life – in a mildly tipsy moment during university when she thought she might have a shot with this hot piece of meat she’d been ogling for a whole semester; his raven hair and dead stare was such a turn on. Turned out he was happily dating her ex-friend from high school.

Sakura sighed. If she didn’t call her mother soon, the messages would just keep getting worse. She reluctantly dialled the number and put her on speaker phone as she began to rifle through her liquor cabinet. Given the next day’s rotation she could afford to get a little buzzed. Just not too much.

I’m going to need it in a moment.

“Sakura!”

She almost dropped the bottle of sake when her mother’s voice screeched through the phone.

“I’ve been trying to contact you all day!”

“I was working, mum,” Sakura said, unscrewing the top of the bottle and foregoing a glass.

“You’re always working. It can’t be good for your skin, your social life or your ovaries.”

She coughed, trying not to choke on the bile that rose up in her throat. “Mother—”

“Don’t you mother me.”

I could say the same thing, Sakura thought, rolling her eyes. “I love being a Trauma Surgeon,” she said instead. “I—”

“You’re not even looking for a man, are you?”

“I’m fine.”

The conversation continued until Sakura had finally had enough and told her she needed sleep. “Bye, mum.” Sakura hung up and sighed. That woman was going to be the death of her. Ever since her father retired due to workplace injuries, Mebuki had been on the warpath for grandchildren.

“The next accident in the family could get us killed before I get to meet my grandchild.”

Logically, she had a point. But Sakura wasn’t going to point that out.

Was it really so tragic that she hadn’t found anybody? She was only twenty-six, not thirty. That hurdle was still in front of her, and Sakura was still free to pretend the number didn’t scare her. So, what if she was on her own right now? She’d been alone for all the random days before her mother’s sudden freak outs began. And since the last time she’d bothered to get in some guy’s pants. Working in trauma didn’t afford her much time, nor the luxury of contemplating a family life. And she was just fine with that. In her teens, she’d been a little more rambunctious, but she didn’t get that itch anymore. People who judged her for it pissed her off, but she could only bite back at her mother for so long.

Chika meowed at her, and Sakura sighed. It was her first semi-free night of the week, so she decided to make the best of it. She reheated the lasagne from the day before and settled down on her living room couch to watch some weird romantic movie with a story being told from a nursing home. She’d heard it was really popular. But by the end of it, she was disgusted. The guy was a stalker, and the girl should’ve called the cops on him.

I need to stop watching romcoms. They were far too romanticised and unrealistic.

Sakura sighed, washed her plate and stared at her cat who had spent the entire movie on top of her cat tower staring strangely at the television.

“That was stupid,” she told her, and Chika meowed in agreement. “Fuck it.”

She texted Ino to find out what she was doing, then quickly showered, dressed in one of her few decent going out dresses, then left Chika sitting on her perch and miserable.

“I’ll give you lots of pets when I get home,” she promised, rubbing her chin. “And treats.”

She wasn’t looking to replace the monotony of her life with some random guy. She just needed to get out and do something. After her shift, she’d been tired. Now, she just wanted some fresh air. Maybe it was because of that awful conversation with her mother. Or maybe it was a toxic remnant of that stupid movie. Either way, she was heading out.

Sakura didn’t drive (she’d lost her license because she sucked so bad), so she called an Uber and made it to Ino’s within half an hour. She would have to rely on the kindness of strangers (or a certain blonde) to pay for her drinks. Ino met her at the door and hastily ushered them both outside. Her boyfriend was going to meet them at the club, so Ino was driving. Which suited the pinkette just fine.

The club was called Club Stone, and it was popular for being safe, gender diverse, and not overpriced. And also, not swimming in druggies or aggressive security.

Maybe I can pay for my own drinks, after all.

Ino clearly knew the bouncer, so they were let in easily; she took Sakura’s arm.

“Hinata’s ex said there’s this guy you might like. Not as a romantic partner,” Ino added when the pinkette glared at her. She was slowly learning her lesson about setting Sakura up with random people. “But maybe as someone to emo it up with. He’s just as anti-social as you, apparently. Maybe even worse.”

So, a possible new friend that Ino is secretly hoping I’ll wanna bang?

Well, it had been a while since she got laid. It wasn’t something she actively looked for anymore and Sakura definitely didn’t have the itch to let someone climb inside her tonight. But perhaps a stranger who is on the same page as her, relationship-wise, would be a good person to talk to. It might be boring to Ino, but it sounded fun to her. A refreshing conversation on her night off sounded just up her alley, right now. And it might just get Ino off her back for a while. She really couldn’t foresee any other ending to the night.

Maybe I can get him to agree to pretend to be my boyfriend to shut my mother up.

“He’s over there with Naruto.”

“Naruto?”

Ino pointed. “Weird blond with the big cheesy grin.”

“Weirder than you?”

“Bleurgh, you’re so nice to me, billboard brow.”

Sakura laughed as Ino walked away, presumably looking for her boyfriend. She turned to look back in the direction that Ino had pointed. She assumed this Naruto was the odd-looking blond who seemed to think orange was cool. A brunette stood to his left, and a redhead to his right. The latter was definitely the emo that Ino was talking about.

Sakura watched him for a few minutes; the way he scowled when some stranger walked too close to him and then smiled when that Naruto guy engaged him in conversation. She smiled lightly at that. When he wasn’t twisting his features to scare someone away, he was very nice to look at, she’d give him that. But Sakura had a bad track record on interacting with men she found attractive. She was either a bumbling fool or paying way too much attention to their hands to focus on anything they said. That was the part she missed about sex: the things that could be done to her with large hands.

She’d been hoping this potential new friend was below average, in her personal tastes. At least then she could focus on what he was saying and not how perfectly chiselled his face was. She felt nervous all of a sudden and clenched her fists, trying to decide whether or not to give in to the urge to just flee.

The decision was ultimately made for her when her pager beeped at her. Even in this day and age, doctors still used beepers. They were just better than phones when it came to working in a hospital, for multiple reasons. Not the least of which was that they never lost their signal. No matter where she went, her attending would always find her. She cringed. Tsunade had promised her the night off, “barring a galactic emergency” and it just had to be that night, when she’d actually decided to let loose for a change, when the Chief of Medicine herself had decided to page the interns. Sakura sighed, then took one last look at the gorgeous redhead and turned to leave.

My cat is going to kill me.

 

.:.

 

“No.”

“Gaara….”

“I won’t do it.”

“Please?”

“Find someone else.”

“Come on, your big sister is asking you really, really nicely.”

Gaara groaned. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his nephew. It was just the projectile vomit and explosive shits he couldn’t handle. He wasn’t cut out to be a surrogate father-slash-uncle to someone who couldn’t even wipe his own arse. Watching Temari and her husband had only strengthened his decision to never be a father. Being an uncle was bad enough. What the hell was he supposed to say to a small, innocent and boring infant that only communicated through blowing bubbles at him?

Temari shifted on the other end of the phone, and he could’ve sworn something had just burped then giggled.

“Think of this as practice for your own kids one day,” she said.

Gaara scoffed. Did his own sister not know him better than that by now?

“Just wait until you find the right woman,” Kankuro had told him the one and only time Gaara had deigned to inform either of his siblings that he wasn’t the fatherly type.

How asinine.

“I’d rather roast myself over an open stove.”

Temari sighed heavily on the other end, shifting again.

“I’m getting an incoming call,” Gaara said, before she could complain again. Indeed, there was a beeping on his end, and he was all too happy to cut the call with Temari short.

“Fine,” she said through clenched teeth. “Remember this when you need me for whatever life thing you ultimately decide to do.”

“Will do.” He hung up on her and answered the incoming call. Gaara almost dropped his mobile phone when the annoying voice of his only friend rang through his ears.

He didn’t call Naruto a friend for no reason. The blond was the only person that had learned to stop trying to set him up on blind dates. So, this respect for his social ineptitude planted him firmly in the friend category. More than even his siblings. And he appreciated that Naruto didn’t care if Gaara wanted this or that, as long as he was happy. But that didn’t mean he didn’t annoy the redhead in other ways. He pulled the phone away from his ear as Naruto’s voice echoed through his now throbbing head.

Gaara!”

Gaara winced and rubbed his head before tentatively moving the phone back to his ear. “Naruto, lower your voice you baka.”

“Sorry Gaara, but I was beginning to think you’d never pick up. Did you wake up on the wrong side of your princess bed or something?” The cheek in his voice told Gaara that Naruto was just pulling his leg, so he let that go.

“What do you want?”

“To know what you’re up to!”

Gaara rolled his eyes.

“Me and the guys are going out soon, wondered if you’d hang.” Naruto paused before adding, “the bastard’s on daddy duty so he won’t be there.”

“Fine, I’m coming.”

“Woo-hoo!” Naruto told him where they were meeting and Gaara hung up on him. He liked hanging up on people. He sighed and reluctantly headed to the shower.

Half an hour later, he was walking into Club Stone where he quickly found Naruto sitting at a table with Kiba, talking animatedly. They both greeted him; Kiba’s “hello” was more of a grunt of recognition.

“It’s a boy’s night,” Naruto proclaimed.

“Minus Sasuke,” Kiba added.

Gaara scoffed and ordered a Umeshu as he sat down on Naruto’s other side. After a few rounds, Kiba headed up to the karaoke stage and started to sing. Gaara was surprised by the deep tenor and the gentleness of it. “He can sing.”

“He’s a dick about it too,” Naruto threw back his rum in one go. “Look, you might’ve guessed I have another reason to invite you out tonight.”

Gaara narrowed his eyes.

“I’m not trying to hook you up, I swear. Not for a fuck anyway.” Naruto grinned at the offended look on his friend’s face.

Gaara sighed and dug his hands into his pockets uncomfortably.

“She’s a doesn’t-talk-to-her-much, friend of Hinata’s,” Naruto was saying. “And Sasuke remembers her from college. She’s just as unavailable and socially disinclined as you, apparently.”

Gaara groaned. When would Naruto learn? Just when he thought the blond had finally respected his decision not to get set up again, he goes and does this. He started to seriously re-evaluate whether they were really friends or not.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Naruto said seriously. “And like I said: I’m not setting you two up. I know you’d kill me for that.”

Gaara’s jaw dropped for an instant before he quickly shut it. “Then what is this?”

“I’m not telling you to take her home and introduce her to mini-Gaara in a wild night of sex or propose or whatever emo people do for fun,” Naruto said, ignoring the redhead’s glare. “Just talk. Even if only platonically. You could have a lot in common. You’re always busy or whatever and she’s a doctor, so busy is pretty much in her DNA. It’s a good foundation to bond over. Someone who would understand that part of you, at least. A friendship exercise, if you will.”

Amidst the sudden spike in his respect for Naruto’s ability to logic, Gaara felt his face flush a little at the previous sexual insinuation. He hadn’t gotten laid in so long he wouldn’t remember how to even do it. And he’d been too drunk to recall the only time he’d ever done it. He used to want to have a connection with whomever he let that far into his life. He’d romanticised courtship and dating to the point that sex had never been the end goal of his social interactions. He’d just wanted someone who understood him.

And Naruto’s a good judge of character, so maybe this girl will.

“She’s not here yet,” Naruto continued. “But I’ll point her out when she comes. She’ll be with Ino, some other friend of hers. Can’t miss her. She has pink hair. Not Ino, her friend.”

As Naruto babbled on about this girl and her friends, Gaara mused on his life. On how he always seemed to end up as someone’s pity guest. He’d grown accustomed to the bitter silence of his life that came from a long string of failures. He was well aware of the attention he got when he dressed up but that was just for sluts, both male and female. He had no interest in them. They weren’t worth his time. He’d rather be alone. And he was now oddly comfortable with that. He liked his life just fine. In this crazy world where people were killing each other for turning down dates and catfishing others due to their own insecurities, it was nice to step back from the chaos.

To be above being that desperate.

Kiba stayed on stage for half an hour, in which Gaara got tipsy in his sudden nervousness about this potential new friend, and Naruto had taken some girl to the bathrooms for a quickie before returning to the table, his face split open in a wide, obnoxious grin. The redhead knew immediately what Naruto had gotten up to because he actually had colour on his skin. He didn’t even flush this deeply after working out.

Kiba returned five minutes after Naruto did and sat down heavily, clearly exhausted. He ordered another round and started talking with Naruto about work for a few minutes before Gaara finally tuned them out. He looked around the bar, wondering where this mysterious woman was. He didn’t want to admit that he was more nervous than he looked.

This isn’t a hook up.

He had to remind himself that men and women could still be friends without having sex. He used to be friends with Naruto’s ex, after all. The woman was so meek and shy that she hadn’t bothered being annoying enough to get kicked off that list. Until she left Naruto for the bastard. The blond had also moved on and his Uchiha friend was welcomed back in the group. But Gaara hated the man long before that, so he didn’t consider him a friend to begin with.

Movement to the right caught Gaara’s attention.

“Hang on, wait.” Naruto stood and waved over a blonde woman who whispered in his ear then gave Gaara a look of sympathy before bouncing away with a dark-haired man that reminded him of Sasuke.

He realised what had happened before his friend even opened his mouth.

“She just got called in to work.” Naruto sighed and looked up at Gaara, genuinely remorseful. “Sorry.”

Gaara ignored the pang of disappointment in his chest. Having someone else to talk to about this would’ve been nice. He sighed. “Not your fault.”

 

.:.

 

Sakura was beginning to regret not pretending some crazy drunk had broken her pager. Konoha Memorial Hospital was understaffed for an emergency of this magnitude. It wasn’t a surprise and all doctors, whether they were interns, residents, or attendings, knew to expect it. It was a freak accident, and the place was already in disarray when Sakura dragged herself in, still dressed up from her short visit to Club Stone. She received a few weird looks and some compliments from work friends as she headed for her locker, to change into her scrubs.

It didn’t take long to find Tsunade and find out she was going to be working on several crash victims at once. So, no biggie, even given the enormity of this accident.

Sakura was still an intern and couldn’t wait to become a resident. She felt ready right now. It was the only important thing in her life, at the age of twenty-six. Everyone took the road through their studies at their own pace. A lot of people even waited to get started. But Sakura had known she’d wanted to be a doctor since she was six years old. She’d never pursued any other career or taken time off, deciding to just plough right through.

The only pause for concern had been what to specialise in. It took her a while, but she eventually decided on Trauma Surgeon. Her attending tonight was Rin Nohara, and she followed her quickly, not surprised that Tsunade was also hovering. The woman seemed more stressed than usual, but the Head of Medicine rarely wasn’t.

Sakura moved to scrub in, standing next to Karin at the sink. Her friend gave her a wry smile.

“I had a great day at the beach,” Karin sung, hip bumping Sakura.

“Oh, did Suigetsu drown?”

The redhead laughed. “No, but it was a close one.”

“Next time,” Sakura said, now miming pressing a head down, “push harder.”

Karin laughed even harder. See, this was why she liked Karin. Though she could be as temperamental as Sakura or even Tsunade, she knew how to take an actual joke. Once you got to know her, she really was more laid back than your average “crazy woman”.

“Let’s get to work!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sakura and Karin both said to Tsunade before heading in.

Ten hours later and after her final visiting triage, Sakura collapsed onto the lower bunk in the on-call room. She was officially done for the night so she should probably head home but this was a much more comfortable way to spend her time. She rested for about ten minutes before she was hunted down.

“Ugh, what time is it?” Karin asked, pushing Sakura’s leg so she could lie next to her instead of climbing on to the top bunk.

“Don’t know.”

They fell silent, both just enjoying the simple pleasure of not having to move. After a while, Karin finally shifted to check the clock on the wall and sighed deeply.

“Ugh, it’s 4 am.”

More silence. Sakura was actually trying to sleep when Karin started again.

“I had to cut dinner short with Suigetsu. I think he was going to propose.”

“Nice.” Sakura smiled without opening her eyes. “I was at a nightclub.”

Karin tapped their feet together. “Good for you. Meet any cute guys?”

The hot redhead popped into Sakura’s head, but she hadn’t actually met him, so she shook her head.

“Too bad,” Karin said. “You know what?”

Uh-oh, Sakura thought.

“Suigetsu has a friend who’s recently single.”

Sakura barely managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. Her chest felt slightly constricted, knowing where this was going. Karin was a good work friend, but she was just as pushy as Ino sometimes. More, if one took into consideration that Sakura spent more time with the redhead, because she was at work so much. As Trauma Surgeons they were always on the clock, so to speak. None of her nervousness had registered on her face, it seemed, because the redhead wasn’t deterred by her silence.

“His name’s Juugo. You’d like him.”

I doubt that.

Sakura thought of the redhead she’d almost met last night. She didn’t even know his name, but she’d rather spend the night with him than get some sympathy date from this Juugo. She tried to avoid answering Karin’s question, but the feisty redhead started poking her to get her attention.

Sakura opened her eyes reluctantly and glared at her. Karin stared at her until she relented.

Sakura didn’t want to have to deal with this. “I’ll think about it,” she lied.

 

.:.

 

Gaara signed another form and pushed it aside, sighing. Something had been bugging him the last week and he couldn’t figure out what it was. But whatever it was, it had a gnashing feeling to it. It wasn’t related to anything he’d been doing, both at work and when out with Naruto. It definitely wasn’t connected to his siblings, who hadn’t gotten any less or more annoying than usual. He’d first thought maybe it was because the board of directors were giving him a headache over his latest decision.

“Just because you’re Rasa’s son, doesn’t mean you know the business better than we do.”

Gaara scoffed. Given that revenue had increased since he’d been named C.E.O. of Sabaku Industries, he’d argued that the correlation was invalid. They hadn’t liked that, but he had a no-nonsense policy, and everyone had learned it was better to just go along with it. His father hadn’t put him in charge because they shared DNA. No, Rasa had put his youngest offspring in charge because Gaara got shit done. He was responsible for the major corporate decisions, the overall operations of the company, acting as the main point of communication between the board of directors and being the public face of the company. Which he was surprisingly good at, despite his usual demeanour.

It was like he was born to it or something.

So that was how he’d found himself as the youngest ever C.E.O. in his family’s company, at twenty-six.

No, work wasn’t what was bothering him. The niggling feeling at the pit of his stomach wouldn’t go away though, even as he worked through the company expenditure to make sure he was happy with the output, which had traditionally always excited him. He couldn’t understand what it was. And he was so lost in his thoughts on the subject that he didn’t hear his brother knocking at the door for a full five minutes before barging in.

“What?” He snapped.

Used to Gaara’s moods, Kankuro just sat down in the chair opposite him, staring at his brother over the elegant desk.

“What?” Gaara tried again, this time less menacing.

“The board just harassed me over your decision to cut off trades with the Snake Oil Salesman.”

Kankuro loved calling the criminal, Orochimaru, by that name. It always got a smile out of Gaara.

“They need to shut up about it.”

“And how exactly are you going to get them to do that?”

“Fire them.”

“You don’t think that’s overreacting?”

Gaara shook his head. “The old biddies should know when to back off by now.”

Kankuro scoffed. “An old biddy is an unpleasant old woman, not a room of doped up old men.”

“They act like one.”

His brother laughed and wiped away a tear. “You got me there. But you’re going to need a new intake for those pharmaceuticals if you want to cut the snake out altogether.”

Silence. “Did you just come in here to tell me something I already knew?”

His older brother sat up straight and cocked his head at Gaara.

“Matsuri wanted me to invite you around for dinner tonight, but I think you’ll still be sorting this mess out until five in the morning again,” he said, lifting one of the manilla folders off the desk. He frowned as he read it.

“Put that back down. And tell your wife I’ll visit when she gets a babysitter.”

Matsuri had a kid from a dalliance before she married Kankuro, so Gaara didn’t see the little girl as his niece. She was more interesting than his actual nephew (who still thought blowing bubbles was the funniest thing ever), but she was currently in her terrible two’s phase, and he had no obligation to put up with that. How Kankuro did it, he would never understand. It wasn’t even his kid. Matsuri had once wished it would be Gaara’s though, since she’d had a crush on him for years. Apparently, her sprog was the result of a drunken night in which she’d screwed some guy in a sulk after the millionth time Gaara had rejected her. But luckily, Kankuro had swept her off of her feet when the guy bailed on her and the rest – as they say – was history. Despite her previous insanities, Gaara was happy for her (as well as himself) that she’d moved on. She did deserve better than some grumpy anti-social.

Kankuro put the folder back down. “I’ll run it past her. But you know, you can’t avoid Kaeda forever.”

I can certainly try.

“You’ll have to get used to kids eventually,” he said, waving at his brother. “What woman will want the father of her children to be a gigantic, anti-social pain in the arse?”

Kankuro darted out of the room as Gaara threw a paperweight with the company logo on it at him; it landed with a dull thud against the wall. That was a good throw, he mused. His brother’s laugh could be heard down the hall and Gaara was beginning to think Kankuro only kept bringing this up to annoy him. He couldn’t tell if Kankuro genuinely understood his disinterest or was acting out because he didn’t understand it.

He sighed and returned to the stack of work on his desk. To most people, paperwork was tedious and annoying. He understood that. But Gaara felt the tedium in the people attached to the paperwork. His father had taken a leave of absence to treat their mother to a whirlwind of romance and travel; they sent postcards and occasionally answered emails, but Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari hadn’t seen them for four months now. Not in person, anyway, since Gaara had facetimed his mother just the other day.

She deserved this extended holiday, after the things she’d been through.

Refocusing, Gaara spent the next few hours organising various aspects of the company. It wasn’t until his secretary told him that she was going home for the day that he realised what time it was. He put the paperwork aside, deciding on a break. But with his secretary gone, he’d have to get his own coffee, so he pulled himself out of his chair and headed into his personal break room. Other than himself, only his siblings and his secretary (when she was fetching his food or coffee), and the 3am cleaning staff were allowed in here. It was spacious and opulent. His father had definitely gone overboard with the décor, but he didn’t mind.

Gaara was just pouring his third cup when his phone vibrated.

He looked down at his phone. One new message. A notification on Twitter. His personal Twitter, as some corporate lackey was responsible for the official Twitter of the company. This account didn’t have many followers and he was happy about that.

The notification was a quote.

“Normalise being alone and not feeling lonely.”

He liked it without thinking.

Then, before he could fully back out of the app, the phone vibrated again. This time, it was a text from Naruto.

“Wanna hang tonight?”

That was a giant NO.

And that was the moment Gaara realised what had been bugging him all week.

That girl.

The one that Naruto wanted him to meet. It was such a strange realisation. He’d never seen her or even knew her name, but the thought of there being someone else who was openly against all the same things (socially speaking) that he was, had burrowed into his brain. This could be someone for Gaara to talk to when he got pissed at his family. She could be a comfort in his internal angst. It was just inconvenient that she was female. Not because he considered it beneath him to befriend women. But because he didn’t want to risk the chance of it becoming even more.

Back when he used to use Tinder, there had been some women who’d appeared to share his disinterest in starting a family. But it took more than that to form a connection and he found them to be (otherwise) boring. So, this friend of a friend was either boring or something more, that he wasn’t emotionally or physically ready for.

Will I ever be?

Perhaps the idea of being alone had settled so deeply inside of him that he’d subconsciously ruined every chance he got to not be alone. Gaara could summon no grief at the idea of passing on this opportunity, but the “what ifs” began circulating in his brain. Plenty of people were single and got along just fine. Some people were happier without that spouse that they had to constantly run things by.

But there was a difference between that and actively working against himself.

He stared down at his phone and glanced in the direction of his office, where hours upon hours of paperwork were waiting for him. Did he dare to put it off? It wasn’t like one more night out would hinder the business. He could just pass much of it off to other corporate officers for the time being. Temari had told him he needed to delegate more.

So, what was stopping him?

He had no idea and that scared him. A little. The most important thing in his life was his work. And he needed to be more concerned about the pickle he’d created for himself by breaking the deal with the Snake than some woman he’d probably never meet again.

But it still bothered him.

 

.:.

 

Gaara sipped the coffee and grimaced. Hospitals actually sold this crap? He double-checked the automated coffee machine and yes, it did indeed claim to be coffee and not dirty water or piss. What a fucking joke. He picked up his brief case again and looked around the room, finding a comfortable looking chair at an empty table and was grateful at least that it did as implied. Most of the stress from his shoulders and back seemed to ease away as he sunk into the knitted material. The lobby had had leather chairs, which he wasn’t opposed to, but this chair was far superior.

And that was saying something, given the budget of a place like this.

He had, thankfully, been directed to what looked like a waiting area crossed with television room and self-service coffee room. There was one other person in here – another redhead but with her face so buried in what looked like a medical text that he didn’t notice at first that she was wearing glasses. She hadn’t noticed him, and he was grateful, but just in case had chosen to sit with his back to her.

Musing as he glanced at the muted television suspended up against the opposite wall, Gaara absentmindedly sipped at his coffee before spitting it back into the cup and coughing a few times and putting it on the table. He forgot how revolting that was for a minute. He had never tasted anything so disgusting. Waiting for the Chief of Medicine while ingesting this piss poor excuse for caffeinated holy water was not the way he’d pictured spending his Saturday night. He was here to negotiate the intake of those pharmaceuticals Kankuro had reminded him that he needed, and the woman was supposed to be the opposite of tardiness, but he’d been waiting for half an hour already (including his time in the lobby). The stupid receptionist had insisted she was simply running late and was not to be disturbed. To him, this meant the woman was either in a meeting or entertaining some dalliance.

How people like Tsunade Senju got such positions of power was a mystery to him.

“Just delegate for fuck’s sake!”

Kankuro had been mildly annoyed at Gaara’s complaints about having to come all the way out here to do this, and he was right. Temari, too. But this needed to be handled delicately and it was after hours anyway, so it wasn’t interrupting his daily routine. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do on a weekend, anyway, except for catching up on more work. And it did occur to him to just leave and make another appointment, but this one had been difficult enough to arrange and he needed to fix this oversight as soon as possible. Especially since it was a result of his own business decisions.

The only problem was that Gaara was supremely bored. He’d already checked his Twitter and Facebook again as well as his email – both work and personal. He thought it rude to play something in a public spot (anything not in his apartment or at his work was public, to him) so he couldn’t even have a look through the videos he’d been tagged in by Kankuro, though likely that was a good thing since his brother had a depraved sense of humour.

He was just debating what to do now when someone else entered the room. Someone that stood out in her scrubs and short pink hair. Gaara cocked his head to the side as he spotted her. Was that Naruto’s friend? The cherry blossom, anti-social might-be-a-friend? She clearly worked here, and Naruto had said the woman in question was a doctor. How many women in Tokyo both had pink hair and worked in scrubs? If she wasn’t her, this was a hell of a coincidence. He continued to watch as she started slipping her money into the machine.

He smiled to himself. Even in the pyjama-looking work clothes she looked cute. Not that this had to be that woman. Gaara certainly wasn’t going to approach her to find out. No, it would be best she finishes up with the coffee machine and leave. She bent over as she did so, clearly annoyed with the machine. His eyes drifted down to the definition of her bum in those scrubs. They weren’t very flattering, but he could see the rough outline of her person, and she seemed to be well proportioned, despite being petite.

In his absentmindedness, Gaara lifted the discarded coffee cup and brought it to his lips. He almost swallowed before hastily putting it back down, embarrassed.

Get a grip.

The woman finally got her coffee and turned around, noticing him watching her. If Gaara had any shame about being stared at, he might blush and look away right now. Instead, he just looked back, his face a little blank. He hadn’t intended to stare, so once he realised what he was doing, he looked down at his phone, now feeling like his skin was indeed flushing at the attention.

“You’re Gaara, right?”

Too late he realised she’d walked over to him, coffee in hand and a surprised look on her face that was strangely not at odds with the genuine but shy smile. How had she guessed his name?

Don’t jump to conclusions about that woman Naruto talked about.

At the question on his face, she slid into the chair opposite him. “I’m Sakura. And yes, you’re hot, but no, I’m not hitting on you.” He couldn’t help the chuckle. “I saw you at Club Stone. My friend said we should meet.”

His eyes widened with surprise. But he wasn’t sure why he felt that way. “You’re Naruto’s friend?”

She laughed. “No. I’m a friend of a friend of his. I think the line of succession goes,” she held her coffee awkwardly while counting on her fingers, “Ino, Hinata, Naruto. Or Hinata, Naruto, someone I’ve never met and then Ino.”

It was his turn to laugh. Naruto knew a lot of people. It was both annoying and fascinating how he did that. Gaara leant back in his chair, deciding this was an interesting diversion to his boredom. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

She pouted but he could tell she was just pretending. “I’m on a break.”

“And what does your supervisor think you’re doing?”

The smile on his face elicited a half-smile from her. He was clearly joking. It was exhilarating how easily they were conversing. It felt really natural, as though they’d known each other for years.

“I’m still on-call,” she said, indicating to the pager on her hip.

Gaara noted the strange device. He’d only heard about these things. Temari was into antiques and had mentioned them in passing. They weren’t used anymore by anyone except doctors.

“I’ve always wondered…” his eyes drifted between her face and hip curiously.

“Why doctors still use pagers in this day and age?”

Gaara nodded.

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first to ask.” She sat back in her chair, hugging the coffee cup with her hands. “It’s just better. It takes weeks to kill the battery, unlike smartphones and tablets and whatnot.” She jerked her head to point at the ceiling. “Hospitals can be dead zones for smartphones, while a pager’s frequency goes right through these walls. It doesn’t matter where I go, I’ll get the page. It’s low maintenance and still works when all other communications die, like in a power outage. Also, it’s cheaper for the bosses to shell out for us.” She smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. “It still has some disadvantages, but it’s funny how this one technology that dates back to the 50’s is still so integral nowadays.”

“Hm.”

He looked genuinely interested in that, which only made her smile wider. She sat forward, leaning her arms on the table. “So, Mr Business suit, what do you do for a living?”

He felt his skin warm at the nickname. “I’m a C.E.O of Sabaku Industries.”

Sakura whistled. “Sabaku? That’s a family-owned business, if I remember right.” Gaara nodded. “So, you’re Ruthless Rasa’s son?”

It was a moniker that his father had earned for his merciless business ways, over the years. If you spent any time researching the company, you’d hear it. It had always bothered Gaara, mostly because it was accurate. Rasa had sacrificed much with his family, as well as broken other people, to keep the business going. But coming from Sakura, he found the words oddly funny. The corner of his mouth quirked up before he could stop it.

“It’s an apt title,” he said, not elaborating.

“So, you’re not like that?”

Gaara was surprised by the wariness in her voice. Was she sizing him up? He hoped so. She was surprisingly easy to talk to. He could see himself having many more of these conversations with her and future communications would require some sort of relationship. He would be down for that. Naruto really was very good at judging characters. And no matter what kind of relationship they may end up having, he suddenly wanted Sakura to want to spend time with him. He didn’t feel drawn to many people in his life. First, it was his mother. There was a bond between them that everyone had always remarked on. They understood each other. They gravitated toward each other. His mother was his confidante. Second, was Naruto. The closest he’d ever had to having a best friend, though if you asked the blond, they were best friends.

Now Sakura.

He didn’t know her well enough to put her on the list, but Gaara put her on it anyway. She was easy going, beautiful, and (seemingly) had the same disdain for the matchmakers in her life that he did for his, if the information from that friend of a friend could be believed. And if she didn’t want the marriage and 2.5 kids, he could foresee himself getting quite attached to her.

One thing at a time.

“I’m trying to change the way business is handled,” he said, surprised at his honesty. He didn’t want to say too much else, either: both because it was too early in getting to know her and it was really quite personal. “What about you? Do you enjoy being a doctor?”

She nodded vigorously and took a sip of her coffee. “I’ve always wanted to be one. I had no idea what I was getting into, but I love a challenge.” She smiled sadly. “My friends and family don’t understand, though.”

He remembered the claim that she didn’t want the marriage ring or kids and swallowed heavily before asking, “so you’re not the type to get caught up in social expectations?”

She shook her head, now watching him closely. “I don’t want that stereotypical life.”

And I’m tired of being expected to.

He felt like he could read her mind on that. “My siblings keep pushing me too.”

She laughed, some of the tension releasing from her. “Yeah, it’s like they don’t realise the more they try to push us into dating someone or getting married, the less we actually want to.”

She smiled into her coffee as Gaara returned the sentiment.

Who’d have thought she’d be enjoying her break like this? Seeing him in the breakroom had been surprising. Tsunade didn’t normally let non-workers in here, so she must’ve made an exception for him. Dressed up in his suit, he looked so handsome and official. So, he must’ve had an appointment with the Chief of Medical, but Sakura couldn’t bring herself to care about why. Only that he was here.

They talked for a few minutes before her pager went off. She groaned and looked down at it. Tonight’s attending was often late and nonchalant himself, so she didn’t mind being a few minutes late to him this time.

“So, you doing anything tomorrow?” She asked Gaara.

He blinked heavily. Tomorrow was Sunday, the only day he didn’t go into the office. Temari wanted him to come over and help with her kid or be at some barbeque… he couldn’t remember which one. And Kankuro and Matsuri were talking about a Sunday brunch.

“No,” he said, honestly. They saw him quite often enough and Gaara felt like if he turned Sakura down for this, it’d be a while before he could see her again.

“I’ll be getting off about 4am,” she said, “depending on emergencies. I’ll get a few hours of sleep and you can come round to wake me up for some coffee.”

He looked down at the hospital coffee he hadn’t touched since it almost choked him. “As long as it isn’t hospital coffee.”

Sakura laughed, her entire being glowing with happiness. He didn’t know how else to describe it. “I guess I’m just used to it. But yes, I have the good stuff at home.”

He just smiled at that.

“Anyway, it sounds great,” she said, hesitant to call their plan a date. “And we can share horror stories about rude and pushy family and friends.”

He nodded.

They exchanged numbers and she gave him her address. “Just call me when you’re coming over, okay?”

He nodded again.

“See you then, Gaara.”

Sakura left the room after looking back at him one more time and he let out a deep sigh.

Tomorrow could not come fast enough.

 

.:.

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