His living quarters have been outfitted with a bed despite his wishes to the contrary. The bed is an atrocity when set against the simple efficiency of the rest of Gaara's personal domain. The bed is much too large, possessing the ability to contain 3 people comfortably by his estimate and swallowing nearly all the free space in his meditation room-which he supposes is now a bedroom.
His desk has been removed as has the simple shelf he uses to store his various scrolls (He'll need to inquire into the location of both later). His small bureau and the desk's chair remain in the room, along the small garden he maintains. The garden contains mostly flowers and a few edible items from more hospitable climes. Not practical, strictly speaking, but Gaara gets a sense of pleasure from coaxing something to grow in the harsh desert environment of Suna.
Gaara finishes surveying the room, cataloging what items remain to him and checking for explosive seals and other traps (He knows the latter is unnecessary since a black ops squad has already made a sweep, but childhood habits are difficult to break). His first impression of the bed doesn't change. It's almost as if it was specifically chosen to be disharmonious with its surroundings. Given that Temari arranged to have it moved into his living quarters, he can't rule out that possibility.
Though, most likely this is some well-meant gift from Konoha. He doesn't know any other nation besides the Fire Country that produces red-hue wood. The bedframe is a stark contrast to the dark simple mainstays of his now bedroom. But, rather than a malicious assault to his sensibilities, he assumes the red wood is a homage to his well-known preference for the color. He just wishes the hue wasn't so bright.
Gaara sighs running his fingers over the intricate carvings in the frame. Even he can tell this is a beautiful piece of furniture befitting of a kage. No doubt the mattress is the best the council could import from Suna's surrounding allies. The pillows will be soft and plush. The comforter will be smooth and comfortable against his skin and provide suitable warmth for the cold desert nights. No one could ask for a finer bed to sleep in.
He misses his mediation mat already.
The bed represents just one of a series of baffling initiatives to ensure his continued well-being. After the Akatsuki incident, his siblings, subordinates and the citizenry at large have taken a great interest in his health and, in a sense, he is indescribably pleased about this. Three years ago, Gaara could not imagine a single person being sad if he died. Now an entire city worries about whether he overworks himself by refusing to enlist the help of aides with his paperwork—A service he doesn't need because he doesn't sleep and hasn't for the better part of two decades.
At least until tonight.
He supposes that he should be happy that his sister has developed such advanced negotiation skills over her time as an ambassador for Suna. He knows from several weeks of frustrating experience that Temari will not be entering into any unwise agreements on Suna's behalf. However, Gaara wishes that she would devote her energies to more worthy pursuits than his sleeping habits—or rather, lack thereof—pursuits such as watering rights with neighboring Kawa, or better trade and travel agreements with Iwagakure.
This is ridiculous. He's the military leader of one of the most powerful nations in the world. He shouldn't be beholden to written agreements regarding his sleeping habits as if he is an unruly child. He's already very behind in his paperwork due to the forced bed rest by his medical staff and the resultant reconditioning regime afterward. For nearly a month, he'd had no time to attend to his administrative duties. Weeks later he's still behind, though gaining ground. He should go back to his office and continue filling out the mountainous pile of paperwork there.
Gaara lifts the covers off the bed with his ever-present chakra-laced sand and pads over to the bed planning to do no such thing. Likely, the paperwork in his office is carefully hidden wherever the scrolls and writing instruments in his room are (He's impressed with the foresight to take the pens and ink. Kankurou always did have an attention to detail).
Sliding into his monstrosity of a bed, Gaara resolves to privately ask Lady Tsunade during her diplomatic visit tomorrow how she survives such indignities on a near daily basis.