He never slept. Countless nights of pointless staring contests had just about convinced her that the male never gave up even a minute's worth of rest. It was unnatural. To some, even uncanny. Humans...no. All living creatures needed to sleep at some point. To abandon sleep meant not living. Matsuri was suddenly reminded of how empty this personal sand coffin can be. She began to wonder, how can a mere sand barrier look so human on the outside? There was more to it, sure. In the nick of battle, however, it would often feel as if the enemy fought nothing more but a shadow of a sand spirit's convictions.

Curiosity beat the gut that feared the little nightmares that went bump in the dark. She lightly tapped a finger over his chest. As always it felt tender, firm, warm. This was the flesh of the human body, for sure. This was Gaara's body.

Naturally- he had never once closed his eyes- he would catch on to his student's odd behaviour. Knowingly harmless, he'd allow her to do as she pleased, but it did strike him as peculiar. Perhaps even silly. It strayed far to humor him, but the curiosity kept him quizzical at best. His pale hues would swoop down to stare quietly at her. He was waiting to see if she'd do anything more. For the usual, his nondescript approach was no surprise, of course. The Kazekage never really had a real selection of expressions to choose from, anyway.

The pause would only last a few moments before he would speak softly through the dark.

"Matsuri, you're still awake."

As if she hadn't seen the obvious pointed out for her. The male's dry voice would sound as if he had just awakened from sleep, but that wasn't right, Matsuri would know. Gaara hadn't slept at all that night. Gaara hadn't slept through any night. Not as far as she had seen.

"Well, so are you, sensei."

And it wasn't like as if it was a proven fact that Gaara didn't sleep. His siblings never commented on it. No one else had ever seen their beloved Kazekage in his chambers or out on over-night missions. Like every other night, Gaara would say nothing about it, as if he had never heard the hints in the female's words that pried for an answer, night after night.

"Go to sleep, Matsuri."

So blunt. So simple. Anyone would ask for more. A little more conversation, a little more interaction, and a little more contact. But it was enough for Matsuri. This was how Gaara simply was, and everyone had come to understand that, and respect his tendencies.

"Not until I see your sleeping face."

She would have guessed, Gaara had always been the one to watch over her sleeping face. The first few nights were embarrassing. Did she drool? Talk in her sleep? Toss around? Snore? Before the presence of their Kazekage, she must have been a joke, yet their Kazekage was kind. He was compassionate. Empathetic. Out of the countless times she pried him visions of her slumbers, he never once said anything against her greatest fears under the blankets. A weakness,as some could say. Gaara was impenetrable, but the least Matsuri wanted was to see her dearest Kazekage sleeping with ease. His days and nights were always quite morbid.

Gaara said nothing as a response, as usual. The window was all he ever looked at if he wasn't focused on Matsuri and her late-night staring contests or conversations.

However this night was much different from all the other nights. A new curiosity had been forming within her for quite a while. The dark circles around Gaara's eyes, how deep were they? The grooves were so narrow, so sharp. It was proof of his lack of slumber. It was his badge-of-honor to the whole world which explained to them that the Kazekage of Sunagakure never slept. Matsuri tried to picture Gaara without those tired eyes, but somehow could not do so that so easily.

The circles under his eyes were a part of him; his identity. Matsuri did not know how to explain it, but the significance they held to Gaara were almost as important as the symbol of love tattooed on his forehead. Even though she was frustrated that she never got to see Gaara while sleeping, it did not anger her. She was never truly disappointed by it.

Once more, she reached up with a light finger, this time tracing an index gently, slowly over the grove that made the dark circles around his eyes. She could look closer and see that they are actually a deep purplish, blue. Like bruises. Scars, almost. She'd tenderly trace a finger around and around the dark areas around Gaara's eyes, first with her fingers, and then with her thumbs where fingers are left to softly hold onto the sides of his head, lightly, as if they were never there.

"Matsuri, what are you doing?"

In which his eyes and hers would interlock their visions between themselves. Gaara's voice, questioning her actions, could not, and would not, ever sound so harsh. In fact he asked with very evenly spoken tones. Calm. As if he were soothed by her actions, but still confused by it all, nonetheless.

"Would you be able to sleep if I kept doing this for you?"

She'd circle and circle; trace lightly with her fingers and thumb the dark area around his eyes. Every so now and then, for the sake of reflex, his eyes would close, and Matsuri would see that the darkness also extended to his eyelids, too.

Interestingly, Gaara chuckled. This time her words left him a little bemused.

"You say such strange things, Matsuri."

A faint, sweet scent of laughter would echo from his voice as he talked. He did not complain, which gave Matsuri a reason not to stop. She felt unbelievably happy just then, for Gaara kept his eyes closed as she weightlessly ran her fingers around his eyelids. To her it almost looked as if Gaara was sleeping. It wasn't picture-perfect, but still it was satisfying enough, and he looked so graciously peaceful through a moonlit night.