Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Lather ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Kishimoto does.

 

Lather

By Niobe Jones

 

oOo

 

“What's this?” Gaara asked pulling a pink flowered bottle out of Sakura's travel pack.

 

The pink-haired kunoichi looked up from the medical scroll she was reading. “It's my shampoo,” she answered curtly before returning to her studies. She wanted to concentrate. The scrolls she was being allowed to read were too sensitive to be allowed to leave the administrative building. She was just lucky that the Kazekage's personal quarters were in the same building.

 

Gaara nodded and pulled out another bottle that was a lighter shade of pink. “And this?”

 

“That's conditioner.” Her voice betrayed her annoyance. “Why are you going through my pack anyway? Don't you have work to do?” she asked, pointing at his desk across the room.

 

“I am thoroughly briefed on the critical and time sensitive items.” He shrugged, then. “Besides, I was curious. It was so large that I wanted to know what you were carrying. I initially assumed scrolls, books, and medical supplies. But I know that you prefer to carry your tools on your person.”

 

Sakura's eyebrow twitched but she held in her anger. “And satisfying your curiosity is reason to go through my personal stuff?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And I suppose you didn't think that your customs guards hadn't already looked though my pack and determined I wasn't carrying anything dangerous.”

 

“It does not matter. It is my prerogative as Kazekage to do as I please.”

 

Sakura sighed dramatically. It wasn't worth getting into a full blown argument about this. She carefully re-rolled the scroll, noting her place absently. When she was finished, she stood up and walked over and knelt down next to where Gaara was going through her things. If she couldn't keep him out of her pack, the least she could do was make sure he didn't break or misplace anything.

 

Her clothes were piled up to one side along with her rations, sleeping pack, and extra bandages. She sighed again, this time in relief. At least he hadn't gotten to her tampons just yet.

 

Meanwhile, Gaara was scrutinizing the two bottles. He turned them so he could read the ingredients, frowning the whole time. Carefully he unscrewed the lid and peered down into the shampoo bottle. “Why is it pink?” he asked.

 

Sakura shrugged. “The manufacturer decided that it would sell better if it were pink, I guess.”

 

“That is a frivolous waste of resources,” Gaara snorted.

 

Sakura didn't bother to say anything. She agreed with him to a degree but he didn't need to know that. Besides, she liked that her shampoo was pink.

 

Gaara brought the bottle up to his nose and sniffed it. He frowned and held the bottle out away from him to regard it solemnly. Then, almost timidly, he brought the bottle up to his nose again and inhaled. “What is this smell?”

 

Grabbing the bottle from his hands, Sakura turned it so that he could read the label. “Look, it says `lightly floral scented.' Which means that it is a mix of different flower scents.”

 

“What a ridiculous idea.”

 

Sakura's eyes narrowed dangerously. “I like the smell of this shampoo. It's one of the reasons why I chose it.”

 

“What were the other reasons?”

 

The pink-haired kunoichi blinked in surprise. She didn't think that she wanted to him to know that she liked the pink color or that she thought the packaging was pretty. “Well, it makes my hair really soft,” she started.

 

Gaara reached up to finger one pink lock then he lifted his other hand to his own red hair, as if he were comparing the textures. He grunted once and dropped the hand from his hair, but kept stroking hers. His fingers started near the shell of her ear and then would trace along her hairline until he reached the other side. He would then find a loose lock and rub it from root to tip feeling its texture.

 

“Gaara. what are you . . .” Her voice trailed off as his fingers grazed her neck.

 

He found another lock and caressed it. “It does seem to be soft. It is pleasing to the touch.” His fingers found her hitai-ate and gently slipped it from her head. With that obstacle gone, he started stroking her hair in earnest.

 

“Gaara, you can stop petting me. I'm not a dog, you know,” she protested. Even though his fingers felt wonderfully soothing against her scalp, she wasn't sure how she felt about the contact.

 

He ignored her request and continued his actions. “Are there other reasons?”

 

“What?” she asked stupidly.

 

Gaara just stared at her patiently until understanding dawned.

 

“Oh, you mean about the shampoo!”

 

He grunted in acknowledgement.

 

Trying to forget that the Kazekage was still running his fingers through her hair, she mustered her thoughts. All of the carefully thought out reasons had seemingly fled from her. “I just like it. It makes my hair smell nice as well as look and feel good. I don't need any more reasons than that.”

 

He pulled her towards him abruptly.

 

Sakura felt her body stiffen as he buried his face in her hair behind her ear. She could feel his breath tickling her skin.

 

“It does not smell unpleasant.” His words raised goose bumps on her the back of her neck.

 

“Thanks, I think,” she murmured.

 

Suddenly, he pulled away from her. “Still, it is impractical for a ninja to use such a product.”

 

She felt an eyelid twitch. “Oh?”

 

“An enemy could track you by your scent. Not to mention the time you spend on your hair could be spent training or in some other useful pursuit.”

 

Sakura quashed the memory of her first Chuunin exams before more than just a trickle of thought rose to the forefront of her mind. “It has its uses in undercover work for just the reasons you said. No one would think a ninja would use a product like this.”

 

“You are not fit for undercover work,” Gaara scoffed.

 

Her eyes narrowed. “Why do you say that?”

 

“You stand out too much. Your eyes and your hair both make you too noticeable. You are not good spy material.”

 

She debated the merits of attacking the Kazekage in his own quarters for a moment or two. However, in the end, she decided against it. As much as she would enjoy pounding him to a mushy pulp, she didn't think that he would let her. Besides, it wouldn't be a good idea to start an international incident over something as trivial as hair care products.

 

“It doesn't matter, Gaara. I like the shampoo. I am going to keep using it, even if it is impractical. I never claimed to be practical in any case.”

 

He seemed to consider her words for several moments then nodded curtly. “It is true, you are not practical.”

 

“Yep! If I were practical, I wouldn't be here alone with you. But I am, so what can I say?”

 

Gaara looked at her, his eyes unreadable but very intense. More intense than normal. “Do you dislike being alone with me?”

 

“Gaara, I . . .”

 

He moved closer to her, his aquamarine eyes boring into her own. “Do you still fear me?”

 

All of a sudden, she understood what it was he was asking but couldn't bring himself to voice. He had so few friends, so few people who cared about him that he was uncertain how do deal with it. He was so used to people fearing him for Shukaku's madness that he didn't know what it was like any other way. Even his siblings were still wary, they didn't know how not to be.

 

Deciding to let her actions speak for her, she reached with one steady hand and stroked the side of his face gently. Her other hand slid forward and grasped one of his own.

 

His eyes widened then softened. He turned his head slightly so that she could cup his face easier.

 

“I don't fear you anymore, Gaara,” she said huskily. “Other things scare me now, like how I feel when I am with you. But you don't scare me, not at all.”

 

“I do not wish you to be scared of me. I want other things from you . . .” he trailed off.

 

The silence stretched out between them as they gazed into each other's eyes, the items from her pack lying forgotten on the floor around them. Sakura's legs began to cramp from the position they were in and she shifted slightly. Her movement shattered the moment. His masks, which briefly had been down, were once again in place.

 

She sighed, annoyed at herself and started repacking her backpack. When she reached for the shampoo, his hand stopped her.

 

“What?”

 

“Could I try it?”

 

“I thought you said it was impractical,” she pointed out.

 

“We do not always have to be practical. Especially when we have the strength to compensate for the advantage you give your enemies with your luxuries.”

 

“We?”

 

“Are we not friends?”

 

She considered for a few seconds, absently putting a few more items back in her bag. “I suppose so, yes.”

 

“And do not friends protect one another?” he pressed.

 

“They do.”

 

Gaara smiled a ghost of a smile. “Then I will protect you.”

 

“What if I don't want, or need for that matter, your protection?” she challenged.

 

“You still shall have it.”

 

“And when I am not in Suna?”

 

“I will have to trust that you will be able to take care of yourself.”

 

She smiled at his words. It made her feel better knowing that he thought her capable. “Okay. You can use my shampoo, then.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Sakura finished packing the rest of her belongings in her backpack and closed it. She then stood up, stretching her back with a few soft pops.

 

Gaara rose as well. However his eyes never left her form, his hand clutching the pink bottle.

 

She sensed that there was something more that he wanted to ask her. “Is there something else?”

 

He met her eyes. “I am not certain. There is something more that I wish to know, but I am not certain how to ask.”

 

“Just ask it, don't worry about the words. We'll figure them out somehow.”

 

He nodded. “I think I would like it if you were more than just a friend,” he started hesitantly. “But I don't know if you would like it. So I am nervous about asking you because I do not know the answer.”

 

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” She wasn't sure if she believed it.

 

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “At least, I do not think so. That doesn't seem permanent enough.”

 

“Oh . . .” Her voice trailed off. “I don't think I'm ready for that. I mean, I'm only fifteen. I haven't even had a real boyfriend yet,” she admitted. “I mean I like you, Gaara . . .”

 

“Do you?”

 

“Yeah, I do. But I don't know if I like you, like you. You're interesting and I feel this bond with you that I've only ever felt with my teammates.”

 

He nodded.

 

“But I don't know if I love you yet.”

 

“But you could.” It was a statement, like he already knew the answer.

 

“Yeah, I think I could.” She blushed, embarrassed at her admission. Nodding her head and murmured. “Maybe someday.”

 

He reached forward with his free hand and grasped her one of hers. Slowly he traced circles on her palm and along her fingers, coaxing it open. He then placed the shampoo bottle in it, closing her digits around it so that she wouldn't drop it. Folding his hands around her hand and the bottle, he brought them to his chest. “I will wait to use this until you can show me how to use it properly.”

 

Her blush deepened at the implications, but she nodded shyly.

 

Gaara smiled again at her, then went back to his desk and the paperwork piled on it.

 

Sakura stared down at the bottle clutched in her hand. She could never think of taking a shower quite the same way again.

 

oOo

 

 

AN: Written for challenge 28 for the Lethal Empathy LJ comm.

 

Not really sure where this came from. But inspiration probably struck me in the shower. ^_^