A/N: Hi everyone! So, second published fic. It's GaaMatsu this time. I really like them, Gaara needs someone to stand beside him; Matsuri's cheerful, sweet, and (we can assume, from her now being a fully shinobi with a forehead protector) no longer weak. She's also undeveloped enough that she's easy and pretty fun to write. I like the idea of her being totally lovesick, and really just caring about him. Please review if you like it, and especially if you don't like it! More importantly, enjoy.

Like nearly 7 billion other people, I do not own Naruto.

"Gaara-sama!"

The voice jerked the redhead back to reality, pulling him from his thoughts as he stood on the rooftop. Originally he had been surveying the town, his town, the one he ruled- no, guarded- as Kazekage. Then, like always, he had relaxed, something he was only able to do when he stood up on the flat top of the building alone.

"What?" he asked in his hollow voice, not turning. Gaara had already recognized Matsuri's cheerful voice and sensed her chakra.

"Don't be like that, Gaara-sama," she chided, but as he finally turned to face the girl he recognized the laughter and permanent warmth in her dark eyes. She'd grown in the past few years, from a child to a young woman- much as Gaara himself had changed. Matsuri's hair was still as choppy, still as brown as ever, but to Gaara it held a strange luster. Her clothes, when she wasn't in ninja gear, were as carefully selected- chosen to accentuate her body but not reveal it, to hint rather than explain.

"Why did you come here?" Gaara pressed, trying to push his softer thoughts away. How could he even have them? He was Subaku no Gaara, the Kazekage, the Jinchuriki, the cold hearted boy who never cared.

"To see you! Oh, um, is that alright?" Matsuri said, suddenly looking nervous. It was a different kind of nervous than when she met an enemy head on. This one made a blush appear on her cheeks, which Gaara found…endearing. How strange.

"It's fine. I am not bothered," Gaara assured her, turning back to survey his kingdom. He felt her come up beside him, sitting on the edge of the roof. It took more than he would have guessed not to pull her back, to quell the unaccustomed lurch in his stomach when she swung her legs out over the hundred foot drop. Instead he remained standing, looking down at the Sand.

Beside Gaara, Matsuri had turned contemplative. There was a content smile on her face, not as broad as her usual grin. Her hands rested on the adobe beside her, loose with relaxation. The girl stared out over the village, taking in the squat, brown dwellings, the brown streets, the few night-travelers in their brown cloaks. To Matsuri, the world held little other color, but there were a thousand shades of brown. She'd never been far from her home, after all, except when she was taken as bait. For some reason, Gaara neglected to give her many missions that took her very far from their hidden village.

More interesting to Matsuri than the expanse of winding adobe homes was the sky above them, and she watched it, drawn to silence by its awe-inspiring stillness, its unbelievable size. The stars were so many, so bright; you could never count them all in a lifetime. To Matsuri the night sky was one of Suna's precious treasures, one of the unique things that made it Suna and nowhere else. In Konoha, the buildings were too tall and the trees too plentiful to see the entire sky stretch above you, in the Mist, clouds hid the twinkling stars.

"Ne, Gaara, isn't it beautiful?" Matsuri sighed, forgetting her place. Who was she, after all, to speak so familiarly to the Kazekage? Naught but a former student, an admirer, a would-be friend. Gaara. I wish you knew. I wish you could see into my heart with your jade eyes, and understand what lies there.

"What?" Gaara said, a little surprised by her voice. It had stirred the night air, breaking through the stillness, yet he did not regret that it had come. "Suna, you mean?"

"Well, not exactly," Matsuri told him, looking up. It was hard to meet his eyes without blushing furiously, so she let her eyes wander between the jade irises and his bright, painful-looking tattoo. Love. She wondered, as she always did, why he had chosen that word- that word, when it was the one thing he had wanted but never had. "I meant the stars," she explained, pointing up with one hand as she leaned back on the other. He followed the line of her finger, gazing up at the constellations that hung above. Gaara's face did not change, staying as expressionless as always, but Matsuri was sure that she caught his eyes softening a bit- just the smallest amount.

It's enough, though. It's enough that I have this. As long as I can be beside him, as long as he won't push me away. As long as I can call him in some small way a friend. For now, this is enough, maybe even forever. I'm willing to wait.

"You are right." The voice startled Matsuri, who had become lost in her own thoughts. "They are beautiful," Gaara said, and his deep voice was oddly soft. Not mushy, not histrionic, but it had no hard edge or bitter taint. The sound of it made Matsuri smile, grinning up at the Kazekage with abandon.

Buoyed by the fact that he had let her stay, that he had gazed at the stars with her, Matsuri reached up and cautiously pulled on Gaara's sleeve. He looked down, his eyes widening that small fraction that meant surprise, and she tugged harder. "Sit!" the girl ordered, a small edge of petulance leaking into her voice. "Sit with me." And to her utmost surprise- she'd more than half expected him to pull away, to ignore her at the least and send her from the roof at worst- he listened. Folding his deep scarlet and cream robes, Gaara lowered himself onto the roof beside Matsuri.

They stayed like that, a foot apart, not touching, for a long time- neither was sure how long. Gaara felt a strange warmth. It was not unlike the feeling that had rose in him when he awoke from death to see the village waiting, or when he understood at last Naruto's passionate desire to save his friends. This was softer, though. Is this the feeling of being wanted?

"Gaara-sama, isn't it heavy?" Matsuri said softly, looking out towards the horizon rather than at her companion.

"Is what heavy?" Gaara was confused. "Do you mean the gourd with my sand?"

"No." Matsuri shook her head, the motion buffeting her straight brown hair. "The weight of all this. Of the whole village, of all the responsibility? Isn't it hard, Gaara?" Matsuri said, trying to keep the catch from her voice. Her emotions were so fierce within her, jumping, leaping, pressing against her chest like cats fighting by her heart. A feeling of melancholy had swept over her, and she wanted to explain, to make Gaara see. It was not fair that he ever felt alone.

Before Gaara could answer with one of his long, thought-out replies, Matsuri continued, reckless. "If it's a burden, Gaara, I want to help. I'll stay here, beside you, and aid you with anything. If you have a trouble, I'll lessen it. You saved me once, and I want to return the favor- but it's more than that, too! It's not just that I owe you. I want to be your friend; I want to let you lean on me if you need it. Know that the whole world does not rest on your shoulders alone," she finished, desperate. It was perhaps the longest speech she'd ever made to him that was not concerned with business, and she felt the foolishness of it weight down on her the second she expelled the last breath. Her face burned, and she looked down now, at the fabric of her skirt.

"Matsuri." Gaara spoke in a low voice, but it was, for once, not hollow. The girl beside him looked up now, meeting his eyes with more courage than she had thought she had within her. "This is enough," he told her. "You do not have to do anything else; it is enough that you are here."

Matsuri found herself suddenly without air. His voice had been so serious- as serious as with anything else he discussed. There could be no doubt that he meant his words, and her hearth went frantic, not knowing how to properly react. The foot of space between the two seemed at once to be far too small and an ocean vast; Matsuri yearned both to close the distance and to leap away, to run and run until the horizon was at her fingertips.

She became aware, with a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, that Gaara's hand was moving. Matsuri looked down; saw her own hand beside her on the adobe. It occurred to her that even if she tried, it would not have moved; the hand was like something that did not even belong to her body. Gaara's hand, pale and long-fingered, swept over the space till it rested beside hers, their smallest fingers just barely touching. The gesture was so sweet and pure that Matsuri felt like her heart might break, just splitting open from being overfull.

Gaara. The girl reached her hand out, the smallest bit, pushing closer to Gaara's until they lay flat against each other, fingers curled over the edge of the roof. Yet then Gaara moved almost impulsively, covering her smaller hand with his, letting their hands rest together. It was, Matsuri realized, the closest Gaara could come to leaning on her. Just sharing this small touch must be a great step. But it's enough, for now. It's more than I've ever had before.

Yes, this is enough. Someday, Gaara- someday you will see and truly understand. I love you.

Fin

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. Consider reviewing. My last story got 200 hits in a week, and 7 reviews. I was still really happy though ^_^

Also, I was THINKING of continuing, or maybe doing a sequel. PM or review if you like that idea. Also... I could use suggestions, or requests.

-Mira