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bridgetotheskyyy · 1 year

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chapter two.

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Chapter summary: Gaara gives you a tour of Suna and Temari takes you shopping with ulterior motives . . .

Chapter warnings: hints of parental abuse, mentions of death and violence, threats

Word count: 12.9k

A/N: I truly hope this chapter exceeded your expectations. But, if not, I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Next chapter (which I will try and drop mid-September, think September 15th. I'll let y'all know if there are any delays; I'm in the process of moving from the shithole I live in to somewhere hopefully nice, so fingers crossed!) we get our anime beach episode! Embrace yourselves!

Read on ao3 here

Your empty stare fixed on the equally empty stage. Shinobi dispersed into the crowd to initiate calm.

To no avail.

“It’s an attack!”

“Oh, our poor Lord Kazekage …”

“What’s happening?”

You didn’t dare take your eyes off the stage, now serving as your judge, jury, and executioner. If Gaara didn’t return, who else would be blamed? Who could blame them for blaming you? You had been the last to touch him.

In your periphery, Chuuyou inched toward you. An apex predator ready to defend his cub. He would shed blood here tonight if it came to that.

You swallowed a scream.

Had your father not trusted you after all and taken matters into his own hands? Did he have your innocuous gift swapped with something more deadly? The minutes ticked on. Oasis ninja clotted around you.

Your heart drummed in your ears as Baki reappeared. Silence fell, attention rapt as he took the microphone.

“Everything is all right!” he announced. “Lord Kazekage is not normally fond of alcohol and accidentally had the strongest liquor available tonight! He is completely fine.”

An universal sigh of relief; murmurs sounded, coated in a new tone as Baki’s words sank in.

“Our Kazekage is so responsible!”

“Not like his brother … you see how he was chugging those glasses earlier?”

“Oh, of course, yes …”

Your ninja relaxed as well, affording you space to breathe.

Tension wiped the strength in your legs; you collapsed into your seat. You were in the clear.

And … and Gaara was all right.

… Why did you care about that?

Baki abandoned the stage and joined the soothed crowd. You raced to compose yourself as he came toward you, the static of your nerves revving up in anticipation of what he would say.

“Are you all right —?”

“Yes,” You said with too much haste. You ironed out the fabric of your kimono to occupy your hands. “Is … is Gaara all right? Really?”

“He is.”

“… May I see him?”

You hung your head. You feared Baki’s face, the possibility of finding suspicion there, but when you lifted your gaze, his uncharacteristic smile had returned.

“Of course,” he said.

“So irresponsible!”

They had moved Gaara to the Suna Hospital for emergency analysis. Baki led you to his room. Gaara was bedridden, a wet towel on his head. Medical ninja fretted over him, plumping pillows and measuring his temperature, but they dispersed when they saw you coming. Temari was haranguing Kankuro in the corner.

“Gaara.” You came to the foot of his bed. “Are you all right?”

He opened a charcoal-ringed eye. “Yes. I apologize; I wasn’t thinking.”

“Lord Kazekage just needs some water and he’ll be right as rain,” came the soothing voice of a masked nurse.

Baki squeezed the space between his eyes; Temari was still berating Kankuro.

“I knew we should’ve been more careful!” she yelled. “You didn’t even try to help —!”

She beat him over the head with her fan.

“Ow! Temari —! Ah!”

“That’s enough, Temari.” Gaara raised from bed. He removed his towel and looped it over his wrist. “I would like to return to the party.”

Temari paused. “But … but Gaara …”

“There’s still one more thing that needs to be done,” he said, “and I must ensure it happens.”

“Yeah, Temari,” Kankuro said, rubbing his head. “Stop embarrassing him in front of his future wife —“

He recoiled as Temari growled at him.

She relaxed. “Well, If you’re feeling well enough …”

“I am.” Gaara was on his feet, approaching the door. He stopped to nod at the nurses. “Thank you for your care.”

The nurses had hearts in their eyes. “Ye — yes, of course, Lord Kazekage!”

The four of you returned to the halls of the party. The tension had left the party as it had your body. Warm applause greeted Gaara upon his reappearance. Cordial conversations flowed like unblocked rivers . The sky darkened enough to invite the blinking of stars.

Gaara glanced over his shoulder to Baki. “It’s time.”

Baki nodded and hurried away.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

Gaara turned to you. “I was meant to present a gift to you as well.”

What? You blinked. “Oh …”

“I didn’t know what you would want,” Gaara went on. “And … I’ve been told I can give out rather strange gifts. I didn’t want to give you anything useless. I’ve prepared something nice instead.”

He led you to a tower, and the two of you climbed stairs to the top. At the top, a winged roof hooded over the reigning stars.

Gaara grasped the railing. “Come …”

You obeyed and stood beside him, waiting.

Pop. A whistle. A white tip shot into the air. You tipped your neck skyward — an explosion of lights and color.

Fireworks …!

More scurried into the air to become sparkles of green, orange, red, and purple. The light of fireworks descended to illuminate the space between the two of you.

“Gaara …” You stared in awe as fireworks mingled with the stars before tumbling into the desert.

You were speechless. Had anyone ever done something so nice for you? No one. Not even Father. Especially not Father.

You grazed the necklace — that evil necklace — still swung around your neck, along with your mission culminating in its use. You lowered your gaze as crimson light cast on your skin.

“(Y/n)?”

You turned to Gaara. His small smile tipped the edges of his mouth. Your silence tempered it.

“Is this …all right?” he asked tentatively. “Do you like them?”

Green replaced crimson, but you were immersed in the turquoise of Gaara’s eyes.

Your mission became white noise as you smiled to assure him. “I … I love it … Thank you.”

Gaara nodded. “I’m glad. I … hoped you would.”

When he seemed content enough, you resumed marveling at the show, where fireworks of pure white blazed into the sky to rival the dazzle of stars.

Dear Father,

I’m all settled in now. They’ve made things very comfortable for me. Your daughter is well. I want you to know that. They threw a party to honor my arrival — isn’t that nice? It’s been two days since — it went well. I don’t think anyone suspects anything. I haven’t seen much of the Kazekage, though; he’s been so busy since the party.

I have a question to ask.

You never shared the full details of Hideo’s death with me. I suppose you thought I was simply too young when it happened and didn’t wish to traumatize me, but I need to know. Are you sure the Kazekage was responsible for it? I’m only asking because he is not what I expected. He is very kind to me and to his siblings. They seem to love him immensely.

If you’re not sure, is it really necessary to go through with this plan? Wouldn’t it be more prudent to let things carry on as they are? Wouldn’t it be better for both of our villages if we let this marriage come to pass?

Despite the warm welcomes, I miss home, and I miss you.

Much love, (Y/n)

Baki had taken it upon himself to become your official caretaker, escorting you wherever and whenever you wanted to go. He led you to the Kazekage’s office. You looked forward to seeing Gaara, though you knew you shouldn’t.

Baki opened the door for you. You grinned; the cactus you had given Gaara now sat on his desk. One among many plants decorating the room. They livened up the place while circular windows ventilated the small space, granting all a shorthanded view of the village underneath. Towering buildings stood nearby. The windstorm had subsided, only a slight breeze trembling the lines of utility poles.

Temari stood beside the Kazekage’s desk, looking unimpressed. At the sight of you, she managed a smile.

“Good morning, (Y/n). Hope you slept well.”

“I slept great, actually!” You said. “Gaara’s put his gift on his table, I see.”

The desk chair swiveled to reveal Kankuro flinging his hands out.

“Surprise!”

You blinked, confused.

Silence.

“What’s happened?” You asked.

“Nothing good, I promise,” Temari deadpanned.

Kankuro’s enthusiasm deflated with a sigh. “There’s been a new arrangement.”

“Kankuro’s decided to step in and substitute as Kazekage for a few days,” Baki said, “so you and Lord Kazekage can get to know each other.”

“That’s a great idea!” You said.

Free time with Gaara? One thought collided with another: would this give you time to accomplish your mission? Anxiety coupled with dread became acutely aware of your necklace sitting against your chest.

You wanted word from your father first before you proceeded. And still … It was much too soon to try to make a move.

“Um, where is Gaara?” His name sat sacred on your tongue, blasphemous to utter aloud.

“He’s in a meeting right now,” Baki said as the door opened and a servant entered, “as he won’t be taking part in them for a while.”

“What —“

“Here are the papers for today — uh, Lord Kazekage.” The servant dropped a stack of paperwork on the desk, now belonging to Kankuro.

He smirked. “Heh, thanks, but I’ll need my morning coffee as well. How am I supposed to work without my coffee?”

The servant gulped. “Yes, right away!” He scurried out the door.

Kankuro leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “I could get used to this.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Temari huffed. “It’s only temporary.”

You chuckled. You had grown to like the Sand siblings tremendously. Being sequestered in the sand palace with them was not as miserable as you had imagined; the stories, the bickering, the atmosphere of a home lived in. It was like having a sibling of your own again …

You returned to your inquiry. “What is the council concerned with?”

“Oh.” Baki cleared his throat. “It’s concerning … the festivities a few days ago. Gaara’s incident.”

“Oh.” Bad news. What had caused Gaara to drink so much in the first place, you wondered? Was it you? Had you distracted him? Would the council blame you for what happened, though Gaara hadn’t?

Kankuro winked. “Afterward, he’ll be giving you a tour of the village.”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Oh, really?”

“There’s just one thing.” Temari faced Baki. “Why weren’t you chosen to serve as a substitute for Gaara?”

“Gaara recommended Kankuro personally,” Baki explained. “He trusts Kankuro — he’s also very good with people, should the need for such a skill arise.”

“What?” Temari placed her hands on her hips. “And I’m not?”

“You are marrying a Leaf shinobi in a matter of months,” Baki replied. “We believed that would cause some … issues.”

Temari’s cheeks reddened. She wilted into herself. “Oh, right, well …

“In the meantime,” Baki turned to you, “I will be chaperoning you and Gaara during your tour.”

“I see,” you said.

Kankuro scoffed. “Like my little brother needs a chaperon.” He raised his head proudly. “My gentlemanly little bro.”

“You’re completely right, though …” Temari giggled into her hand. “You probably need one more than he does.”

“Maybe so … Hey!”

More time passed, during which Kankuro made more demands, sending servants out as quickly as they came in.

You giggled into your sleeve as an anger mark sprouted on Temari’s forehead, growing ever larger by the second.

“What’s next, Kankuro?” Temari gritted her teeth. “Free ice cream?”

“You read my mind!” Kankuro shot a finger into the air. “For everyone! And the Suna library’ll have an Icha section! We’ll keep Jiraiya-sensei’s memory alive by —“

Temari hit him over the head, and Kankuro fell over the desk.

“Can you at least pretend to take this seriously?”

Your perked, interest piqued. “Hm? Did you say the Icha Icha series?”

Their heads turned to you in mortified silence.

“How …” Baki looked like he had seen a ghost. “How do you know about those books, Lady (Y/n)?”

“Oh, I love them! All the ladies read them in court! And you know the author? How amazing —!“

“You’re allowed to read them?” Temari said.

You tilted your head, confused. “Of course. My father recommended it … why are you all looking at me like that?”

They all stared at you, wide-eyed and in horror.

“Did I … say something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t.”

A fresh voice. Gaara entered, wearing a faint smile.

“And yes,” he said. “We did.”

“Gaara,” You grinned. “Long time no see.”

You were genuinely happy to see him and, maybe, it was all right to be — for the time being. Until your father returned your letter, you would let yourself be.

“Yes. I’m sorry I was away for so long.”

Hope laced your fingers together. “Are you saying you’ve read the books, too?”

Temari gawked with horror. Baki sighed over Kankuro’s snicker.

“Yes.” Gaara tilted his head, considering. “But I didn’t understand them. Perhaps you can —“

Baki cleared his throat unusually loudly. “Perhaps we should get a move on. You both have a big day ahead of you.”

“Right,” Gaara said. “I meant to tell you about what I had planned today. If that appeals to you.”

“Of course it does!” You strode to him. “I’m looking forward to it!”

“Have fun, you two!” Kankuro waved you off beside a facepalming Temari as Gaara led you, like a gentleman, out the door.

Sunagakure made you eat your words.

The village sat in its giant crater, nestled away from wandering eyes, a maze of stucco and rough sand. The buildings shouldered the responsibility of weathering the sandstorms. The orderly streets and marketplaces left you feeling guilty about the footprints you left underfoot. Domed buildings stood squat and quaint. Come nightfall, the gift box windows would cast yellow gazes on you in the dark.

“It’s beautiful …” You said.

“You’re a long way from home, so this must be strange for you,” Gaara said.

In truth, you had always been under your father’s thumb. This mission had taken you out from under it and now you could breathe. No one stood analyzing your every move, ready to correct or chastise or worse.

“It’s …” You trailed as the three of you turned a corner. “Different, to say the least.”

“I apologize for being away,” Gaara said. “I hope you’ve been able to settle in without any problems.”

His courtesy flattered you. “Thank you, but I was fine, really!” You debated sharing your next point. “I even sent a letter to my father telling him I arrived safely.”

“Hello, Lord Kazekage!”

You, Gaara, and Baki stopped to entertain the woman approaching, waving and smiling.

“Oh, hello, Yen,” Gaara said. “It’s been a while. Is the baby all right?”

Your head snapped to him. Yen. He knows her name? Your mouth hung agape; your father would never know the name of a villager, let alone the servants conditioned to scrub his palace.

“Yes, she just started teething!” the woman — Yen — giggled. She noticed you. “Oh, and who is this?”

Another girl crept toward you. “That’s Lord Kazekage and Lady (Y/n)!” she squealed.

Villagers crowded the three of you; déjà vu of the party nights before started you chuckling to yourself.

“Oh!” Yen said. “Your fiancée! A pleasure to meet you!”

“The pleasure’s all mine, surely …” You mumbled.

“Lord Kazekage,” another girl whined. “You said you’d come to my rehearsal!”

“No way! He said he’s coming to our picnic!”

“I’ve got him Sunday —“

“No, I do!”

“Please, please, everyone.” Gaara raised placating hands, albeit with a smile. “I will honor all of my agreements, I swear it!”

“You’re so pretty,” one girl cooed to you.

“What’s the Oasis village like?” asked a man.

Baki hung over your shoulder. “I’m going to have to get the two of you out of here,” he whispered. “I’ll find a quieter street for the two of you to walk.”

You nodded, though you had no idea how he would manage this, what with the villagers ready to carry your fiancée away like some sort of handsome singer. “Understood.”

“What are you doing —?”

Temari squealed, shooting up from the side of your bed.

“Oh.” She relaxed as Kankuro entered. “You scared the shit out of me. Have you ever heard of knocking?”

“I did knock.” Kankuro crossed his arms. “Twice.”

“Well, don’t!” she said before ignoring him to flip pillows and pop her head through the bed curtains.

Kankuro’s eyebrow twitched. “Temari. What are you doing?”

“Looking for clues.”

“Wha—?” Kankuro gawked. “Clues?”

“Yes, Kankuro. Clues. Hints, evidence — anything that could indicate a plot.” Temari rummaged through drawers. “I just know something’s up.”

“You think (Y/n)’d have something where we could easily find it?” Kankuro asked rhetorically. “You think she has some assassination diary laying around that says ‘April 5th. The plan to kill Gaara’s going well. The onigiri was great last night, too’?”

Temari paused. “A diary … I didn’t think of that.” She closed the drawer in favor of the bed. “Kankuro, help me flip this mattress over —“

“Temari,” Kankuro stepped forward, resigned to the fact he had been talking to himself to take Temari’s hand. “Stop. This is insane.”

She drew her hand away. “You know that man has it in for Gaara!”

“No, Temari, I don’t know that,” Kankuro said, blocking her access to your bed. “Stop shoving — ngh! — You’ve gotta let the past be the past —“

“Kankuro, move —“

“As sub Kazekage, I order you to stop!” Kankuro said.

Temari paused, surprised.

“That’s right.” Kankuro grinned, victorious. “You know you have to do as I say.”

Temari sighed. “Fine.” She thrust a finger in his face. “But this. Isn’t. Over.”

She stalked from the room. Kankuro watched her go.

“Yeah, I know it’s not,” Kankuro said.

Not fooling anyone, Temari; I know what this is really about …

Baki did the impossible and secured a vacant street where the two of you could traverse unmolested. But the villagers still took it upon themselves to wave at Gaara from their windows before retreating behind curtains. Baki fell behind to give you some alone time and, though you couldn’t see him, you knew Chuuyou was nearby, foreseeing everything.

“They love you,” You said as he waved back. “They absolutely love you.”

Color blossomed on Gaara’s face. “It’s quite a change … from when I was a child.”

“Did they all know you, then?”

Gaara lowered his hand. “Yes … albeit for a very different reason. I was a very lonely child. The Fourth Kazekage kept me … away from others.”

“I understand.” You chuckled. “I think being the child of a village head always leaves so much to be desired. My father wouldn’t let me have any friends growing up; he always feared plots against our family.”

Gaara lowered his gaze. He said nothing as the two of you came to a bridge. And for a second, you began to think you had misjudged his meaning when he continued —

“I was a very different person then, like I told you before,” Gaara said. “I had my uncle, Yashamaru, but I was feared by everyone else.”

You weren’t stupid. Gaara of the Sand Waterfall. The Beast of Suna. He must be alluding his savage reputation. Oasis shinobi spoke of the terrors of facing him if they were blessed enough to return to tell the tale. When the Fourth Kazekage sent Gaara out on missions to ravage his opponents, opposing villages, yours along with many others.

But still, wouldn’t he have been a little boy then? How could he have been so feared, even then? You were tempted to ask for more, but, fearful of overstepping your bounds, kept your mouth closed.

“There is a reason they treat me this way; I’ve worked hard to redeem myself in their eyes,” Gaara said.

You came to rest beside the railing of the bridge, head tilted in interest. “What changed?”

A long beat before Gaara spoke again.

“I met someone who showed me a different way of living. That … I could be precious to others.” Gaara squeezed the rail as if to ground himself, though you pretended not to notice. “After that, I wanted nothing more than to make the people of this village love me.”

His words set in as you studied his face. This was a man who took it upon himself to know the name of his villagers, who was gentle, kind …

Respect bloomed in your chest. You … you admired him.

But how could you when …

“Lord Kazekage!”

A little boy ran up the bridge, stopping at the hill of it. He leaned on his knees to catch his breath.

Gaara stood upright, commanding. Kazekage. “What is it?”

The boy perked. Something crumpled in his little fist. Something yellow …

He offered it to Gaara. A flower.

“It’s for you!” he said. “My friends told me you were around the village, so I picked it myself!”

Gaara took the flower and inspected it thoughtfully, as did you; a few of the petals lay bent and crinkled from the boy’s well-intentioned hassling, but the creases increased the flower’s beauty. Gaara looked down and smiled.

“Flowers are rare in this village,” he said. “Thank you. I’ll cherish it always.”

The boy’s laugh was music as you approached Gaara.

“Whatever you did to make them love you, I think it worked,” You whispered over his shoulder with a wink.

Color had returned to Gaara’s cheeks. He faced the boy. “Is it all right if I place it in her hair? I think it would look nice on a woman.”

“Sure thing!” the boy said.

You froze, stunned as Gaara fixed it in your hair.

“You look beautiful, Lady (Y/n)!” the boy said. He scratched his head sheepishly. “I wanted to find one for you, too, but I couldn’t, hehe …”

“I’m sure she appreciates it,” Gaara said.

You touched your hand to the flower, gingerly feeling its soft petals against your hair.

Another voice, feminine, called a name.

“That’s my mom,” the boy said. “Bye, Lord Kazekage!”

The boy waved at the two of you as you said your goodbyes. Gaara turned to you.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

The grumble of your stomach gave away your ladylike position. “Hehe. Starving.”

“I know just the place.”

Kankuro tossed a page in his book as Temari opened the door with her back, carrying a new stack of papers.

He looked up — and groaned, sinking into the chair. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! More papers? Ugh, my first day and I’m already exhausted …”

Temari steadied the stack on the desk. “You should read more, anyway … Wait.” She went bug-eyed. “Are you actually reading?”

“Yeah,” Kankuro sighed, returning to his book.

“It’s a miracle!” Temari cried. She nudged closer to sneak a peek at the pages. “What’s the book?”

“I sent for some books about the Oasis village,” Kankuro said. “I figured it’d be a good idea; maybe it’d help us bridge the gap between our villages if we knew more about each other. But …” Kankuro closed the book. “They’re so secretive. They’ve clearly gone to great lengths to hide the secrets of their oasis. Not that I blame them. But there’s nothing on it, really. Just historiographies of the village and some legends. Do you know any?”

“Uh, no?” Temari crossed her legs and leaned against Kankuro’s arm. “Just that they think the oasis was graced by some water spirit a hundred years ago.”

“That’s not all.” Kankuro flipped to the pages at the back of the book to inspect its index. “Apparently, that water spirit blessed the village with an oasis after he defeated some beast who’d gone rogue.”

“Charming,” Temari deadpanned. “I was never much for fairy tales, though. What are you getting at?”

“The oasis is said to have special powers,” Kankuro said.

“I thought you couldn’t find anything concrete?”

“If you read between the lines, that’s really what they’re getting at.” Kankuro leaned back after having found nothing substantial in the index. “What if (Y/n) knows about it? Who knows what we might gain access to?”

Temari snorted. “Now you sound like you’re on the council.”

Kankuro stiffened. “Not what I meant. I don’t want to play their game; I’m not looking to use her or anything. Just … who knows? Maybe it has healing abilities or something? Maybe it can bring back the dead? The possibilities are endless. Aren’t you the slightest bit curious?”

“Sure.” Temari looked out one of the windows. “But, Kankuro, even if it’s real and —“ She cut him with a pointed stare. “— there isn’t some plot we’re unaware of. We’re not just enemies to (Y/n)’s village — we’d considered blasphemous to them. I don’t know how friendly they’d be to us poking around.”

“I don’t know …” Kankuro closed the book but eyed it still, interest lingering. “I’m going to see if I can find anything else, though.”

“Understood,” Temari said. “But let’s tackle the paperwork first. Promise?”

Kankuro’s eyes roved over the stack. He sighed. He abandoned his book for the first sheet in the stack. “Promise.”

The restaurant was placed in a canyon on the outskirts of Sunagakure. The place held intimacy, as it was sparsely occupied with a few lone couples. You could hear their excited murmurings from afar as the two of you ordered food. The icing on the cake was poor Baki, trying to pass off as a simple bystander while so obviously a guard meant to protect Gaara. The man looked so out of place, shuffling his feet on the sidelines, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Maybe you should tell him to go back to the office,” You whispered to Gaara.

“He … insisted,” Gaara said.

Baki awkwardly crossed his arms and looked down the path of the canyon, playing as cool as he could.

“Kankuro told me about this place,” Gaara said, ostensibly to get your attention away from his uncomfortable former sensei. “He took a date here once.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” Gaara flattened a napkin. “Only, I don’t think it ended well … he said something about the girl pouring hot soup all over him.”

“Popular with the ladies, I see.” You giggled into your hand.

“This is a nostalgic place for our family, Gaara said. “My father took my mother here to propose. My uncle, Yashamaru, recommended it.”

You smiled. “You mention him often.”

“He taught me a great deal about love.”

You leaned toward him. “He must be so nice.”

Gaara grew quiet.

“… he was.”

Your shoulders fell. “Oh. I see. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Gaara picked up his glass to immediately put it down — perhaps wary of its contents. “He taught me love is … the heart’s desire to serve someone closest to you.”

A FAMILY of orators, then.

“The heart’s desire …” You ruminated. “That’s beautiful.”

“So when Kankuro showed me this place …” Gaara looked up at the canyon’s ledge; the lights strewn from one side to the other, while umbrella roofs shielded them from the heat. A blade of light whet the side of Gaara’s face. “And told me about how Yashamaru had my father bring my mother here, I couldn’t help but think of his words again.”

“I look forward to learning more about your village and your family,” You said, transfixed. “The other things I know have been enforced by the rivalry between our villages.” Something occurred to you. “I hope I didn’t get you into too much trouble.”

Gaara frowned, clearly in need of clarification.

“With the council, I mean,” You elaborated. “I know you had to meet with them today.”

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle,” Gaara said.

A smile tugged your lips. Was he bragging?

“They feared the incident could make the Sand look foolish,” Gaara continued, and when you tensed with memory, he added, “but I was quick to remind them the party seemed much livelier after what happened. It would have been rude if I had chosen not to engage in the festivities.”

You fiddled with your glass. The idea of playing even a minor role in the reproachment Gaara received needled you with guilt.

“I agreed there wouldn’t be a repeat incident,” Gaara said. “They were also concerned about what could happen if your father heard. Lady Ikanago said he could take it as an insult.”

The mention of Father cast an extra shadow over the two of you, doubling with the umbrellas above your heads. “What did you say?”

“I told them this is only a problem because the Sand has built up a reputation for terrorizing smaller territories around it,” Gaara replied. He cast his gaze down. “I do not deny my part in that terrorization. It is why I keep Joseki on the council.”

Joseki. Memories of the man flooded your mind.

“He doesn’t like you at all.” You said it as though it were not obvious, intrigued by what Gaara’s reply would be.

“No, he doesn’t.” Gaara’s gaze remained on the table. “I do not want to forget about my previous sins, nor the pain I’ve caused. Joseki’s disapproval serves as a frequent reminder of both.”

You tilted your head, stupefied. He kept a man on his council who despised him; was he so dedicated to making amends?

Gaara lifted his gaze at last. “Kankuro has questioned my methods, but this is what I’m comfortable doing.”

“Did they — did they say anything else?”

“There was talk of securing important bloodlines — yours,” Gaara said. “To ensure the Sand is strengthened.” Gaara paused; he suddenly seemed so tired, like an article of clothing excessively worn. “I have to admit: With each passing year, I become more disgusted with the council and their asinine power plays … For years, we have accused Konoha of terrorizing smaller villages, involving them in bigger wars, meanwhile we do the same in secret.”

“Such is politics,” You quipped.

Gaara was not swayed by your show of cynicism. “Despite what you told me before, about you coming here willingly …” He grimaced. “I’m sorry you have been involved in all of this.”

You were silent, too stunned to reply. When all had been said and done, no one had asked you about how you felt to be shipped off to another village. You did what was expected of you. Why did he, of all people, care so much for your well-being?

He is your fiancée, is he not?

Gaara tried for a reassuring smile. “Enough about this. Tell me about your village, your family.”

Chills ran over your skin despite the heat of the day. You? What could you say? What could you safely share that wouldn’t incriminate you? You considered speaking about Hideo, but would you be able to keep your cool? And nevermind your mission — you were a sheltered daughter of a village head. You had no stories, nothing worth sharing.

You gripped the side of your glass, hyper-aware of Gaara’s expectant stare. “I’m afraid I can only tell you stories about other people I’ve known. Your love for your uncle has reminded me a bit of my love for my maid, Hahaoya.”

“Your maid?” Gaara parroted.

“I don’t mean it like that,” You implored. “She was like a mother to me. She was all I had after my mother had died. After we buried my mother, I had nightmare after nightmare. Her death destroyed my father. He said he had no sympathy for me … He said I should get used to having nightmares, to living without her. He would have to. So would I.” You pinched the tablecloth. “But Hahaoya was always there; she would sneak into my bedroom once everyone else had fallen asleep to sing me songs and tell me stories. She was my everything.”

Gaara stared. “… Was?”

Misery creased your face; you did nothing to conceal it. “Was. One day, she was serving me soup, and I got so sick off of it. It was a few weeks after my mother had died and I wasn’t eating regularly, so I’m sure I was only having trouble digesting it. But my father threw a fit, ranting and raving about how Hahaoya had sided with ‘the’ enemy and had tried to kill me. He had her banished from our village and when I confronted him about it, he said she’s lucky he didn’t have her killed.”

Your trained eyes on the table, now too afraid to look up at Gaara. You had said too much; you were sure, but you hadn’t been able to help it. Reliving the memory, you remembered how upset you were with your father when it happened. Hahaoya, your only source of peace in those times … Your brother had been there, too, but as a fully fledged ninja with missions stacked atop each other, not as much as he may have wanted.

Then he died, and you were left truly alone with your crazy father …

Gaara’s hand squeezing yours bore you away from your thoughts. You looked up.

“I’m sorry.” Gaara’s face brightened. “Perhaps, when we’re married, we can find her for you.”

You froze. “Rea — Really?”

“Yes.” Gaara cupped your hand with two hands now. “I can dispatch a team to go looking for her.”

Your lips parted in awe. “Gaara …”

Gaara studied you, and for a second it looked like he would inquire further into your past —

“Here you are!”

A waiter came bearing plates.

You withdrew from Gaara’s touch as the waiter presented dishes.

“Tell me if you need anything else, all right?”

“Okay …” You replied weakly.

The waiter left you two to eat.

“Once you’re full, there’s something else I’d like to share with you,” Gaara said.

You gave him an are you kidding expression. “No more fireworks, Gaara.”

“No.” Gaara leaned from the shade and sunlight brightened his eyes. “Something I’ve been hoping to share with you since you came. Something very precious to me.”

“Kankuro — oh, for gods’ sake — wake UP!”

Kankuro shot from the desk, a sheet stuck to his face.

“Jeez!” Temari cried. “Gaara never fell asleep at his work!”

“Doubt it.” Kankuro plucked the paper from his cheek, now smeared in purple paint. “’Tis the kind of work that could even put an insomniac to sleep. I — wait, whose drool is this … Oh, it’s mine —“

“I’ve had just enough of your lack of concern. You have no sense of urgency for anything!” Temari said. “Show some initiative for once, would you?”

“Fine!” Kankuro snapped. “From now on, it’s your job to get close to (Y/n) and see if she can tell us anything about the oasis. Happy? How’s that for initiative?”

Temari blinked. “That’s … that’s a brilliant idea!”

“Happy to hear it.” Kankuro plopped into his seat.

“In fact …” Temari continued, thumbing her chin. “I know just the thing! A girl’s day out! She won’t suspect a thing. I’ll have it all planned out. I’ll have us go …”

Kankuro zoned out, happy to know Temari was now distracted enough leaving the office, allowing him to go back to sleep.

Gaara’s greenhouse burst with green, plants sprouting from every corner and orifice. A mahogany desk and chair sat in one aisle where you assumed he did his work cultivating. Butterflies fluttered past while ladybugs crawled across the face of leaves. You giggled as butterflies neared, curious about the flower placed in your hair.

“It’s beautiful, Gaara!” You cried out.

“Thank you,” he said from behind you. “We have another greenhouse where we grow plants to counteract poisons and other undesirable things,”

You admired a succulent on his table to deter your nerves. “Really?”

“Yes,” Gaara said. “I prefer only to grow harmless things here.”

You heard him take a step and chose to change the subject. “Where’s the cactus I gave you? Oh, I remember, in the office!”

Gaara came to your side. “I enjoyed it so much I wanted it somewhere I would be sure to admire it every day.”

Baki swatted a butterfly away. “Cacti have been Lord Kazekage’s main hobbyhorse for a while now.”

You inspected the cactus he had propitiated. Verdant green cacti complimented the desk, lined up perfectly. “You’re so good with them. I can’t grow anything!”

“I’m only a beginner,” Gaara said. “I’ve read books on different plants from around the world. I’m not even aware of all the cacti yet …”

You chuckled. “You could’ve fooled me.”

“One day, I’d like to know about every cactus,” Gaara said earnestly.

An image of a wizened Gaara, surrounded by a museum of cacti, flared in your mind. You giggled.

“I don’t know much about them,” You said, grazing the petal of a succulent, “but maybe there are specimens which grow back home I can have sent to you!”

Gaara’s eyes brightened. “You would do that?”

“Why not!” You smiled at him. “Why cactus, though? Is it because they’re easy to find in the desert?”

Gaara’s eyes followed the fingers you had ghosting the succulent petals. “I thought it a nice change. To grow and allow things to prosper, as opposed to destroy, was humbling for me. It is very soothing. Though not much grows in the desert … I came to love planting and watering things.”

“Apologies to the earth,” You remarked.

Gaara considered you. “Apologies to the … earth. I like that.”

Baki caught your eye; he was considering you as if you had materialized anew.

“It’s a beautiful hobby you have,” You said. And adding, due to your respect for him, “Lord Kazekage.”

He blushed, shied into a collection of leaves.

He’s so cute — he really is handsome.

A half an hour passed as Gaara showed you more of his plants — prickly pear (turned out this was the class of cacti you had gifted him), golden barrels, barbary figs, the darling peyotes reminding you of dumplings. He set you in his working chair and let you review the spreadsheets he kept to remember which plants needed watering and when (cacti were not desperate for water, so the schedules were spaced out through a period of days and weeks) as well as the books he read for research.

“(Y/n) …?” Gaara’s voice was tentative behind you as you inspected an index.

You lowered the book. You knew what he would ask. “Yes?”

“You mentioned a brother,” he said cautiously. “A brother who died.”

You smiled in defeat. Did you think you could avoid the topic forever? How stupid.

“If you don’t want to talk —“

“No.” You turned to Gaara. “It’s okay. I can talk about it …”

Concern creased Gaara’s face, looking ready to accommodate your comfort. In your periphery, Baki’s face echoed the sentiment.

You toyed with the corner of a page. “He was older than me, and a great shinobi …” Hideo’s smile came to life in your mind’s eye, behind your eyes as you closed them. “My father’s favorite, obviously. But that was all right; Hideo always said I was his favorite.”

You fought to maintain your composure; Gaara would come to your side if you curled over in pain.

“There was a mission — it was meant to be incredibly dangerous. I don’t know the details. I was never told …” Your hand abandoned the page to fold in your lap with the other. “Even my father wasn’t sure if he should go, but eventually let him. Hideo insisted. He wasn’t afraid — he wasn’t afraid of anything …”

You shoved a tear away from your cheek. The skin reddened and ached there.

“I don’t know what happened after that,” You said. “He never came home. There was — there was nothing to bring back —“ Your voice clipped and broke.

“Enough,” Gaara muttered, a hand slipping to your shoulder. “It’s all right. You don’t have to go on.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was wet. You sniffed. “I’m okay, really.”

Gaara’s gentle touches helped you to put your emotions back where they belonged.

“Your brother sounds like he was a great man,” Gaara said. “We are lesser for having lost him.”

Your feelings gnawed and clawed for the surface. Did I forget to tell you my father thinks you killed him? And the only reason I’m here is to —?

You banished the thoughts with a jerk of your head.

“He was,” You said. “Thank you.”

An awkward silence, clogged with pain, followed.

“It’s getting late,” Baki remarked after a few seconds, studying the sky.

You followed his gaze. He wasn’t wrong; the heavens burned a deep orange, the blue of the sky retreating to darken into a near-black. You were no fool; Baki was saving the two of you from the suffocating silence. You caught his glance toward you before he quickly looked away.

Correction: Saving you especially.

“He’s right.” Gaara’s hand lingered at your shoulder before withdrawing. “We should be heading back for dinner. The others will be expecting us.”

You nodded. “Okay.” You managed a laugh. “I’m sor —“

“Don’t ever apologize for having feelings,” Gaara interrupted, eyes soft on you.

You smiled as Baki opened the door to the greenhouse. Whether it was from the new source of air, or Gaara’s warmth, or both, the place was easier to breathe in.

At the threshold, Gaara looked over his shoulder at you. “(Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“You said you were a fan of the Icha Icha series,” Gaara replied, oblivious to Baki stiffening in front of him. “Would you mind explaining the books to me?”

Baki blanched with horror.

You fought a giggle. “I’d be delighted!”

“Well,” Kankuro’s voice piqued with interest, “it seems you two had a fun and eventful evening!”

“Yes …!” Gaara said. “First we …”

You let him summarize the day. You were content to be off your feet; the walking had murdered your feet, and they screamed in salvation as you sat at dinner. Later, you hoped to run a bath so you could soak before bed.

You wondered how long it would take for your father to reply. Hopefully soon, because … you were losing your resolve. You were never alone with Gaara, nor did you share his bed. How were you meant to do this? You knew Father would either tell you something to push you over the edge and solidify your resolve or the whole thing would be called off. Secretly, you hoped for the latter. You had never been allowed to date before, and if this is what it was like for everyone, you understood why people raved about it so much.

You hoped nothing would be waiting for you tonight; you were tired.

“That’s all wonderful,” Temari said hastily. “Wonderful, wonderful. (Y/n), how would you like to spend the day with me tomorrow?”

The boys lowered their forks to stare, Kankuro looking more in the know than Gaara.

“I’d be delighted, future sister-in-law!”

Temari giggled, waving you off. “Stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Gaara said, turning to Kankuro. “And what about you? How was your first day as Kazekage?”

“I don’t know how you do it.” Kankuro leaned back and rubbed a balled fist in his eyes. “Thought the day was never gonna end.”

“It is grueling work,” Gaara said. “But it’s necessary work in order for the village to run smoothly.”

“Hopefully, I’ll never have to do it,” Kankuro peeked at you. “You — you better give him lots and lots of kids.”

“Kankuro!” Temari cried.

You went red. You had never even thought of having children with Gaara. You looked his way briefly before lowering your gaze to your meal.

“Speaking of which.” Gaara cleared his throat. “(Y/n) has been helping me understand Icha a lot more —“

Temari spit out her water.

“I still have questions about —“

“Mm, Gaara!” You interrupted with a hand on his. “Maybe not at the dinner table, okay?”

“Oh,” Gaara said innocently. “All right.”

Four days later. No letter came for you.

It was the morning after last and every moment you spent holed up in your room was murder; you lay in wake for a hawk to come and throw a curve in your world.

Temari hadn’t taken you out yet, too tired after the dinner the night before last; the four of you had stayed up playing shogi, and she had been so excited about winning nearly every match she forgot about a curfew and fell asleep at the last moment, drooling over the carpet while the rest of you enjoyed yourselves.

So, mostly, you stayed away from your room and spent time with Gaara and his siblings.

You liked them. You really, really liked them.

You frequently lost yourself in the beautiful turquoise of Gaara’s eyes, and when that wasn’t happening, Temari and Kankuro were pampering you or making you laugh, as much your siblings as Gaara’s, and when that wasn’t happening, Baki was treating you like a daughter, knocking on your door to ask you if you needed water or an extra blanket or helping you navigate your way through the palace or to the office. It all left you wondering if Father wasn’t … him. If this is what it was like to have a normal, sane man protecting you.

Friendship was alien to you. But this was even worse: this was a family. Despite their relation to the Kazekage and the responsibilities befalling them, they were a normal, loving family.

Still, you waited with chattering teeth and moist palms for the hawk you were beginning to hope would never come.

“What do you actually plan on doing with (Y/n)?” Kankuro asked, leaning against the door frame of her old bedroom.

“Shopping, of course,” Temari answered absentmindedly, making her bed.

“You don’t even like clothes,” Kankuro noted. “Come to think of it, I’ve never even seen you shop.”

“No, I don’t, but I suspect (Y/n) does,” Temari said. “She’s always wearing the loveliest yukatas around the place. Have you noticed? And anyway, it doesn’t matter; this gives me the perfect time to get her to let her guard down and let something slip.”

Kankuro sighed. “We’re still on that, huh …? Just forget about the oasis, okay? Don’t mention it to her. I’ve had no luck at the library.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Temari said. “I’m sure I can get her to spill something about Lord Boutoku’s plans —“

“What’s this?” Baki said at the door.

Kankuro jumped from the door frame. “Oh, h — hey, Baki, We were just —“

“What are you two up to?” Baki frowned. “This better not have anything to do with (Y/n). Just what’re you planning?”

“Nothing!” they said in unison.

Baki paused to pinch the space between his eyes. “Fine, I relent. Kankuro, you’re needed in the office.”

“What’s happening?” Kankuro asked gravely.

“It seems there was an egregious error in one of the documents you signed a day ago,” Baki explained droningly. “You promised those contractors two-thousand yen, not two-hundred-thousand yen. Now, they think they’ve struck gold and have taken to the streets —“

“Oh, for gods’ sake!” Temari threw her cover to the side. “This is exactly why you should’ve chosen me as sub-Kazekage or appointed yourself! I can’t believe this! Now, I’ve got to go talk to them and explain all this and —“ She pointed to Kankuro as she walked to the door, “ — fix your mistake! I can’t believe —!”

Temari sprinted out the door, lecturing absolutely no one, leaving Kankuro and Baki alone.

“This is why I’ll never get married,” Kankuro said. “Shikamaru’s really a man to be envied.”

And he abandoned the room as well.

“I think I need to up my migraine medication …” Baki spoke under his breath before following them.

Temari was late. You slipped into your sandals —

Squawk.

You froze.

You faced the window: a hawk, a curled letter attached to its leg.

You raced to the window. You untied the letter with trembling fingers. The hawk, unperturbed by your panic, flew away.

You sank against your windowsill. The letter unfurled. You began reading.

You SELFISH girl!

What have I done to vex the gods so that I was cursed with you? That beast masquerading as your betrothed is an absolute MENACE who has killed hundreds of people from our village and beyond. Perhaps I was wrong to trust you — how could you ever understand the complexities of this situation. If you have a shred of dignity left, you will commit yourself to silence and do what you’re told for once! The demise of the Kazekage will lead to the prosperity of our village and others for decades, possibly even centuries, to come! Are you in such desperate need of a reminder? I have entrusted our ninja to protect you and wait until you complete your mission, which you WILL do. After which they will go to work wiping out the Suna council and his disgusting siblings AFTER you are done with the job of killing him, which you WIL do . What is wrong with you? You would ally with the people who killed your brother in cold blood, simply because they smiled at you and gave you a place to sleep? What kind of street rat are you? Are you not my daughter? Well, since you need so much convincing to resist the temptation of allying with the people who have MURDERED members of your family, let alone your precious elder brother — who was the second to hold you after your disgraceful birth — let me enlighten you on how your brother died —

“(Y/n)?” Temari’s voice came down the hallway.

Quickly, you hid the letter under your pillow. You slapped a false smile on, given no time to process the ire of the letter as Temari appeared.

“Hey,” she said, all smiles. “Are you ready? Let’s get a move on!”

“Yes,” You said, your voice shaking from your father’s lashing. “Let’s.”

The shopping centers were bustling. Temari had clearly taken you to one of the more expensive areas of the village; it was not like when Gaara had taken you out; no one stopped to say hello or noticed Lady Temari or you out and about, so transfixed the shoppers were with their vibrant kimonos and embroidered cloths, their jewels and sparkling jades.

The excitement dizzied you. “You didn’t have to take me somewhere so decadent, Temari …” You muttered, looking around at the ornate sand buildings. Their signs would blare to life with neon colors come nightfall.

“Nonsense!” Temari nuzzled closer to you. “Only the best for my future sister-in-law!”

You nodded furiously out of fear of seeming ungrateful. The letter numbed her flattering sentiment. You walked with legs made of cotton, immaterial and ready to buckle any moment. You fought to get a hold of yourself. You had been sure Father would come through the letter to strangle you; his fury had messied his handwriting. If he was that mad in the letter, what was it like to behold him in real life …?

Will do. What would happen if you didn’t do as he said?

What would happen to you?

… Would he … kill you? Could he?

No … no, he couldn’t —

“Something seems to be on your mind,” Temari said, studying you.

Fear shrank you. You faced her. His disgusting siblings. “Just a little — uh — overwhelmed, is all.”

Temari chuckled. “I understand. Perhaps I was a bit too hasty to show off?”

A woman walked past with a layer of fabric slung over her arm.

Temari watched her walk away. “It’s funny … My father, the Fourth Kazekage, was so resentful of the Oasis village he had any and all items branded with scorpions banned.”

You swung your head, taken aback by the vitriol of the past. “What?”

Temari resumed walking. You tailed behind her. “He told me he came to despise the symbol of the scorpion so much he couldn’t bear the idea of people in his village donning it. It couldn’t be on bags or purses, or shirts or even rings. I didn’t totally believe him at the time and went looking — It’s in the records. Can you believe it?”

You suspected you were not being called to answer. Your mouth bobbed.

“I …”

“It was such a dark time.”

You aligned your steps with hers. Temari was taller than you and, judging from the look of her arms and legs, stronger. Her blouse exposed her back and you could detect the lean muscles molded there. You hid behind her, hoping, in your panicked state, she would protect you from …

She glanced over her shoulder at you. “I’m sure your father is still angry about the way the Sand has treated him, despite this arrangement.”

A bitter laugh quivered from your mouth. “He’s always angry.”

“I bet.” Temari spotted a store and beelined toward it. “Let’s go in there! It’s one of my favorites.”

You obediently followed.

Temari stopped abruptly, facing you. “I’ve been meaning to ask you … What even made Lord Boutoku set this up between you and my brother? After all, there were other villages in the Wind country he could have chosen.”

You paused. You met her eye. She’s grilling me.

Father’s voice thundered in your head: I trained you for this, do NOT ruin the plan, selfish girl …

A group of teenage girls brushed past to enter the store. Temari was not deterred.

You straightened and forced your voice airy and polite. “The truth is, the Oasis is willing to share their secrets if it means they and the Sand can be allies.”

Temari was silent. Clearly, you had thrown her.

“But,” You continued, “while we’re on the subject, why did the Sand agree at all? I’m not a ninja after all, so I’m not privy to any hidden techniques or anything the Sand may want. The Sand could have had us offer anything else. It didn’t have to be my hand.”

Silence. Temari stared —

The door flung open.

“Can it be?” A woman stood at the door with huge white hair and pink cheeks. “Lady Temari! What a blessing to have you come to my store!”

Temari blinked. “I —“

“Come in, come in!”

She ushered the two of you inside. Several girls lingered behind the counter with the same rosy cheeks as her.

“Ohhh!” The shopkeeper leaned uncomfortably close to your face. “And who is this?”

“That’s Lady (Y/n), mama!” One of the girls behind the counter said, holding her face. “The Kazekage’s fiancée!”

Galaxies erupted in the shopkeeper’s eyes. “OHH! What a blessing! What a blessing!”

“We — “ Temari struggled. “We were just looking —“

“Well then, I must show you my most prized section,” the shopkeeper said. “Only the finest apparel for the Kazekage’s family.”

She forced the two of you into a section separate from the front of the store. The shopkeeper thrust you into a private mall with floors and stairs to higher ones. Racks upon racks of clothes filled your eyes, along with the most divinely embroidered fabrics for crafting kimonos. Two other women there with you, apparently high class enough to be bestowed the same honor, but were too engrossed in their potential purchases to notice your appearances.

“Really, ma’am!” Temari pressed. “We’re — really not looking to —“

“Oh, don’t be modest, my lady!” said the shopkeeper. “Spend as much time as you want looking! Oh! And don’t be afraid to call me!”

She waved and shut the door, leaving the two of you in the museum of outfits.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind buying a few outfits since we’re out,” You told Temari. “If you don’t mind?”

Temari blinked, defeated. “Not … Not at all …”

You investigated the nearest racks while she got her bearings.

After a few minutes, she started again. “So, I was right to take you shopping?”

“Oh, yes.” You surveyed the racks. “Clothes … they’re really the only way I’ve ever been able to express myself as the daughter of a village head.”

“I can imagine it’s been very stifling for you.”

“Mhm …” You feigned interest in a glittering dress. Temari’s attention spidered up your back and you braced yourself for another set of incoming questions.

“You know,” she began. “Gaara’s kept his promise to your village; the first set of resources has been sent out already.”

You turned to her with a grateful smile. “Really? That’s fantastic news!”

“It is …” Temari leaned against a rack. “But I wonder … if your village is willing to spill its precious secrets, they must expect something truly invaluable in return.”

You knelt down to admire some shoes.

“The basics — water, weapons — that’s all fine, but … Your oasis is sacred, isn’t it?”

“The friendship of a previous enemy is plenty valuable.” You looked at her over your shoulder. “Don’t you think so? You were there for Gaara’s speech. He has such a way with words …”

“He does,” Temari said. “He’s done so much reading the past few years, absorbs words like a sponge. I’m proud of him. We all are.”

“I can imagine.”

“When he fainted on stage, I could’ve sworn you must’ve slipped something into his drink!”

Your heart drummed, but you willed your body still.

“Isn’t that funny?”

You rose with your most charming smile. “It’s hilarious! I can’t imagine what would make you think such a thing.”

Temari stared. Clearly, she was studying your face. The two women in the room exited, leaving you at Temari’s mercy. You collected some dresses, hoping your trembling arms would go unnoticed.

“Oh.” Temari bobbed her head. “I just remembered … Our fathers have only met once, I think.”

“Oh?” You passed her with a few dresses hung over your arm. You were sure of her eyes following you. You climbed the steps. Temari stalked behind you.

“Yes,” Temari said. “I must have been about ten when that meeting took place. If I remember correctly, there wasn’t much rapport after our father was confirmed dead.”

There’s no reason for the Oasis and Sand to become allies — unless one had ulterior motives …

You nodded, crossing into a new aisle. “Orochi … maru, was it? Horrible creature. I apologize on behalf of my father; he can be so classless sometimes. But …” You faced a new rack as Temari sharked toward you. “But … I imagine Konoha wasn’t shedding too many tears over the Fourth’s death, either. I think they should apologize for their silence as well. If they haven’t already. Don’t you?”

You shifted clothes on the rack — Temari’s hand blocked the hangers transferring.

“The Oasis would have much to gain from Gaara being removed. Or otherwise disposed of.”

You froze.

Shit.

You thanked whatever god you had to you were not facing her at that moment, for you were sure you would have blown it.

Think. Think. Have to throw her off.

You wracked your brain, thinking of what you knew about Temari so far.

You faced her after a beat. “Not at all.”

Temari stuttered. “What?”

“If Suna were to fall for whatever reason, it would throw the entire Wind country in disarray!” You said, as though the idea were ridiculous. “Suna is the seat of power on this side of the world. We would all suffer from it. The world of politics is so messy and pedantic as it is without bringing murder into the mix.”

It frightened you how true your words rang. The image of Father loomed in your mind, eager to deliver disapproval.

Authenticity proved your savior; Temari seemed to consider your words, leaving an opportunity open.

“Temari,” You began, feigning bashfulness. “I’ve been meaning to ask … what’s it like to be in love?”

“What?” Her face grew red, throwing hands in front of her face.

You toyed with the hem of one shirt. “I only wondered … I know I’ve only known Gaara for a few days, but I’ve grown to like him so much.”

None of it was a lie. You were growing to like Gaara a lot, a dangerous amount. You only knew romance from books, and a part of you did wonder if this fluttering in your chest was …

Temari recovered inchmeal to answer you. “It feels … good. To have someone understand you on that level.”

You smiled. “It must …!”

“I never thought I’d ever find someone I loved as much as my brothers,” Temari said, facing you again. “It would be a shame if anything happened to either of them.”

Oh no. You kept the guilt from your face.

“If anyone threatened them in any way,” she said, voice low, “I’d tear them apart.”

You would drown in the dark of her eyes. You stood, rooted beside her, silent.

She meant it. Temari crowded her brothers under her wings. If she discovered you, you would be torn apart and by her personally. There would be no excuse, no sob story you could bestow on her to make her reconsider. She would kill you.

But, if you failed, would Father?

Who were you more afraid of?

You swallowed —

The door burst open.

“How’s everything going?” the shopkeeper said. Her daughters’ heads peeked from behind. She spotted where you two stood on the second floor. “Hm? Finding everything okay?”

“Lady (Y/n), what’s the Kazekage like in private?”

“Is he charming? Oh, I bet!”

“Girls!” the shopkeeper barked.

Temari sighed before turning to you. “I’ll pay for everything. Let’s just go.”

Yes, please!

As though the past few moments hadn’t happened, Temari led you out of the section and to the cash register to pay.

It was strange for Gaara to watch someone else do his work. Kankuro sat on the other side of the Kazekage’s desk, his lips as he stamped another document and shuffled it into the done pile.

Anxiety gnawed at him; he of all people knew Temari could be … daunting.

“You don’t think Temari is scaring (Y/n) too much, do you?” Gaara asked.

“Yep,” Kankuro said, stamping another. “She’ll be calling this whole thing off and heading back to the Oasis tonight. Let’s not forget what she did to Tenten — and she wasn’t even trying to marry you or anything.”

Gaara imagined your back broken over the tip of Temari’s folding fan, lifeless and bleeding. He didn’t like the image at all and shook his head blank.

“Kankuro?”

“Hm?”

“What do men … do with women?” Gaara asked, hands in his lap. “I want to be a good host to (Y/n), but I’ve never done this before. I’m running out of ideas.”

Kankuro snorted. “What? Icha Icha didn’t give you any ideas?”

“It definitely plugged up some holes.” Gaara heard his brother snickering but, unable to understand why, returned to thinking. “But there’s much that seems so complicated. How do you date a girl …? And why would a mother pursue her son-in-law?”

Kankuro nearly fell over. “She … she really did explain those books to you, didn’t she?”

Gaara looked to his brother for help.

Kankuro sighed. “All right, well, you’re doing fine as it is, Gaara. Girls like being wined and dined, and they like surprises and gifts. You know, fun things.”

“Fun things …”

“Just take some time to brainstorm,” Kankuro said. “You can bounce some ideas off of me. I’m …” He looked up at his stack of paperwork. “I’m not going anywhere …”

Gaara thought to himself. He and you were both people of the desert. Surely there were more things you could share with one another?

What could he do … What —

It came to him.

“Kankuro, I think I have an idea!”

Pride shone in Kankuro’s eyes. “I’m all ears.”

For the rest of the evening, Temari was noticeably defanged. You had passed whatever test Temari had put you through. Now the two of you were finally having a normal day out.

You wanted to be proud of yourself, but you didn’t know how to be, or if you were allowed. For what? Your assassination plot having not been found out?

“I’ll order us lunch,” Temari said as she placed the menu on the table.

“Thank you.”

“I was thinking about what you said,” Temari said.

You grew nervous, fidgeted in your seat. “Hm?”

“About being in love,” Temari clarified. “I’ve spent time with my fiancée’s family — the Naras — and it was nice. Being around an ordinary family. As opposed to what our families are like, you know?”

You blinked. From your perspective, the Sand siblings were an ordinary family.

“I — Yes, I get you.”

Temari laughed to herself. “It’s rough being the only girl, isn’t it? All the bullshit we have to take from the men. The constant threat of political marriages.”

You perked. This you could understand. “And you’re the oldest, aren’t you?”

“Ugh!” Temari flew back in her chair. “Don’t remind me. You know, my father tried to marry me off once?”

“No.”

“Yes!” Temari leaned in, excited. She twirled a finger to jog her memory. “Some boy from the Land of Rivers — don’t even remember his name.”

“What happened to him?”

“He said something about my ass and I nearly broke his neck.”

The two of you exploded into giggles. You adjusted one of the shopping bags at your feet so as to not knock it over.

“Not for lack of trying. Suffice to say, that ended things and he went home,” Temari said.

You wiped a tear from your eye. “I can imagine!”

“So, Lord Boutoku really lets you read Icha Icha?” Temari said, disbelieving.

“He insists,” You pressed. “He thinks it’s the only thing ladies should read so they know how to please men.”

Temari shook her head. “No offense, but I’m liking the man less and less.”

“None taken. But I started liking them quite a lot on my own.”

Food came at last, a myriad of different dishes — miso soup, fish, steaming rice — and the two of you dove in.

You sipped your jasmine tea to wash your throat. “Mmm …”

“Good?”

“So good.” You inhaled the steam warming your nose.

“So,” Temari began. “You really like Gaara, don’t you?”

You set your tea down. “I do. He’s … nothing I expected.”

“Has he … told you anything?”

You caught her meaning. “He’s told me he’s had a difficult past.”

“Ah.” Temari preoccupied herself with the removal of onions from her salad. “So … no details, then?”

You paused. “No.”

You remembered your father’s letter and how you hadn’t had the chance to finish it. His words rang in your head still, and you hadn’t even endured the full torrent of his ire. Chills snaked over your skin despite the heat of the tea trickling down your throat. Temari sobered up as she minded her meal. You frowned.

“Temari?”

She looked up. “Oh, Nevermind me! We should keep things light!”

“Yes.” Relief replaced the chills. “Let’s.”

“I’ll tell you about the time Shikamaru’s father walked in on my changing and swallowed one of his cigarettes.”

“Oh, gods,” You leaned in. “Shoot.”

Dusk overran evening once the two of you returned to the Suna palace, barring shopping bags and giggling over anecdotes. Gaara and Kankuro loitered around the entrance.

They must have been waiting for us. So cute!

Gaara scanned the myriad of bags with a smile. “You must have had a good time, since it’s so late out,” he surmised.

“We did!” Temari chirped before facing Kankuro. “Hope you didn’t pass any more asinine orders in our absence, Kankuro.”

Kankuro hmphed and crossed defiant arms. “I’ll have you know I finished all the work early today.”

“Good, so you can help us carry bags inside —“

Temari swung bags in Kankuro’s face and he yelped.

The four of you hurried into the living room. Servants relieved you of your bags and moved to leave them in your respective rooms. The four of you piled into the dining room for dinner, for it was not long before varying plates of food — fish platters, potatoes, red wine (you gulped; Gaara fidgeted), figs — were brought to the table.

“The onigiri is immaculate,” You said, admiring the cute rice pyramids. “I have to send compliments to the chef.”

Kankuro shot Temari a look you couldn’t interpret. You returned to your meal.

Kankuro nudged Gaara’s arm with a mouthful of biscuit. “Gaara, don’t you have something to tell (Y/n)?”

“Yes, about that …” Gaara turned to you proudly.

“Well, don’t leave us in suspense,” Temari said. “Spill it!”

“I’ve prepared some things so all of us can take a vacation to the beach.”

You shot up from your chair. “The beach?”

Gaara paused, clearly startled. “Y—Yes,” he said. “Is … is that all right?”

“Are you kidding?” You laughed. “That’s … oh my — it’s fantastic! I’ve never been to a beach! A beach in the desert?”

“You’d be surprised,” Kankuro said. “Weirder things are out there.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, but, Gaara.” Temari faced her brother. “What about the office?”

“Baki will take over for Kankuro for the weekend we’re gone so we can enjoy ourselves,” Gaara explained. “He offered; he thinks it’s a good idea for us to bond, as we’ll all be family soon —“

You flew over the table and enveloped Gaara in a hug.

“Oh, thank you!” You squealed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you —!“

Temari and Kankuro giggled while Gaara pet you on the shoulder.

“I’ve only ever read about beaches in books!” You leaned away, one arm still wrapped around Gaara’s shoulder. “I wish you had told me — I don’t even have a bathing suit!”

“That can be arranged,” Temari quipped. “Another quick shopping trip will fix that, I think.”

“It’ll be like a pre-honeymoon!” Kankuro shrugged. “But, you know, with us.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Gaara said. “I want us all to enjoy ourselves as (Y/n) and I get to know each other.”

“I agree!” You said.

You smiled at him — only to realize your hug had left you situated in his lap. You leaped away.

“S — Sorry, Gaara.” You bowed, your voice a squeak. “I —“

But Gaara took your hand and kissed it lightly, causing you to blush.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Kankuro cornered Temari as she prepared for bed, organizing papers on her desk.

“So,” he said.

Temari dimmed her lamp, leaving them in semidarkness. “So what?”

“So. C’mon,” Kankuro said. “Just admit you like (Y/n).”

“All right, fine,” Temari sighed. “Despite how horrible Lord Boutoku is. She’s … nice.”

“Finally. Told you she’s not up to anything.” Kankuro tilted his head.

“Why are you grilling me, anyway?” Temari asked.

“Because I know what this is really about,” Kankuro said, leaning against the door frame as he had done before.

Temari sat on the edge of her bed, crossed her legs and arms. “Well, go ahead. Enlighten me.”

“You don’t want to let go of Gaara,” Kankuro said matter-of-factly. “He’s your little baby brother and now he’s all grown up, but you’ve mothered him for so long you can’t accept that he doesn’t need you like he used to.”

Temari rose with a scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

“And,” Kankuro continued. “I had hoped that you would realize all on your own, but alas, I have to save the day — again. Sucks being the only sane one around here.”

“That’s just silly!”

“And,” Kankuro went on, “Now, I’m gonna have to call Shikamaru to come get you because —“

Temari held an arm akimbo. “How dare you insinuate I need a man to reign me in —”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Baki entered the room. “What is it now?”

Kankuro and Temari rounded on each other.

“Temari’s being silly —“

“Kankuro’s the silly one!” Temari bit back. “With all his crazy Kazekage orders and —“

“Okay. Enough.” Baki said. “The two of you have done nothing but bicker and fight over Lord Kazekage’s happiness from the moment Lady (Y/n) arrived.”

“That’s …” Temari deflated. “That’s not …”

“The two of you will stop scheming — both of you.” Baki narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care who started what. Kankuro, stop antagonizing your sister. And Temari, let your brothers breathe for once? You’re both too old for this. If you love your brother as much as you say you do, you will band together to help ensure this arrangement goes well, and he has fewer enemies to worry about in the future. Understand?”

Kankuro and Temari faced each other.

“I’m … sorry,” Temari relented.

“So am I,” Kankuro said.

Baki sighed. “Good, that’s a start. Now, get some rest. We have to begin planning your trip in the morning.”

Baki gave them a lingering stare before leaving the room.

Temari retook her seat on the bed. “Gaara … does seem very happy. With her. So far.” She lowered her head, as though considering other things coming to mind. “And I guess it is really something to be set up to marry someone you could actually grow to love.”

Kankuro nodded. “Yeah. Doesn’t happen every day, does it?”

Temari shook her head. “No …” She lent Kankuro her hand. “Truce?”

Kankuro smiled, approached her, and shook her hand. “Truce.”

Your head had snuggled against the pillow when you realized —

The letter.

You rivaled the part of yourself desiring to drift off to sleep and forget the entire wretched correspondence. But you knew you couldn’t, not with the way your chest grew to ache with anxiety, come to reunite with you like an old friend. You hooked a hand under the pillow. Paper crinkled under your palm. You pulled it out and sat up.

With dread cemented in your chest, you continued to read:

That boy is a scourge upon the earth who killed his mother to come into this world. My precious Hideo got caught in his wretched jutsu. His Sand Burial, I’m told. The damage done to Hideo’s body was so egregious we could never collect his body —

You dropped the paper as though burned by it. You stared at it, wide-eyed.

It was a moment or two before you reclaimed it to continue. You read the passage several times to convince yourself the words were real. Teardrops splattered near the edge of the paper, expanding like watercolor suns. Nausea whirled your stomach, but your eyes ran over the words anyway:

You disgrace us. If you do not do this, I will personally have you put you to death once the coup begins. Do not test me again.

The letter abruptly ended, exacerbating the chill of it, the finality. You let it fall away to the side before you could add more tears to its face. Bile rose in your throat, threatening vomit, but your legs would not move; you were too weak to move them.

Hideo’s beautiful face came to your mind, his beautiful smile and eyes — only to drown in blood.

You clutched your head, sunk into your lap. Your two realities sat between you, forever at odds.

No, no. It couldn’t be true. Gaara and his siblings — they had been so nice to you. He had been so nice to you. He would never … could never be capable of such things.

Hideo kept flaring in your mind to die horrid deaths. Again and again, his mangled body reached out to you, begging for help —

“No!”

You knocked the letter over.

You refused to believe it — believe Father. Gaara would never, and even if he had — he would have told you … he would have remembered and called things off.

If he even remembered or knew Hideo’s name. If he hadn’t killed so many, your brother joined a nameless herd —

You shoved your father’s voice aside like a real thing, rejecting it.

A burst of energy had you leaving your bed, letter in hand. You started a fire in the fireplace.

Gaara had been nicer to you than anyone you had ever met. Save for Hideo, who would never stand for this, you knew. You were happier than you had ever been with him and his siblings.

Gaara was kind.

Your father had never been kind.

Corrupt, cruel, capricious. His crimes were stacked up by the dozens as you determined to recall them all. He had yelled at you, assaulted you, called you a disgrace, called you selfish. In what way were you selfish? What had he ever asked of you that you hadn’t given? I’m here because he asked!

No.

You tore the letter in two. Threes. Fours. If only you had a fire, you would thrust it in the flames and let them eat the corners away before disposing of the thing. Your father was insane, you knew. None of it could be true. Gaara was kind and gentle and — and the two of you were to be married soon. He was taking you to the beach.

I don’t believe you, Father.

You collected the letter’s pieces and went to the window, letting the pieces flee from your hands and scatter to the wind like snow. You wrestled with the necklace around your neck, its poisonous contents, and clutched a hand around its pendant.

I’ll keep it. And if Father comes, I’ll use what’s inside to protect Gaara. Or myself .

The rest of the thick of the night was spent sorting out your thoughts. You wouldn’t tell them about your father’s plot yet, and it was entirely due to your cowardice. You remembered Temari’s words and the look she’d given you. If you couldn’t convince them you were on their side, you were sure you would be jailed — or killed. Regardless of your reasons.

No, you would wait after the trip, then you would tell them. The coup could only begin once you gave the word to the other Oasis nin meant to protect you. Father couldn’t do anything until then. And, if your father chose to be impulsive and come, he wouldn’t find Gaara or his siblings here — all of you would be miles away … His plan would fail.

With your thoughts ironed out, you settled in for bed, but it would be long before sleep would claim you. Due to the horrific imagery your father had given you — and what your mind chose to torture you with.

Gaps, endless voids, sprouted in between the horror, and you let daydreams of Gaara and the beach fill those gaps.

#gaara x reader #gaara x you #gaara x y/n #gaara smut #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you

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