Temari stood in the crowd of people; furious, embarressed, awkward, and altogether unhappy. Her purple kimono hugged her body, restricting her movement very much like the matching mask that restricted her eyesight.
She wasn't one who was particularly fond of formal events. Especially not when she was Chief Advisor to the Kazekage and therefore had people walking up to her every few moments to tell her something dreadfully importent. The worst part was that it was a masquerade. so she had no clue who was talking to her (well, if they had decent masks) and yet they all seemed to know who she was. Why the hell am I here again? Oh right. Because all the daimyo's and kage's were holding a summit in order to try and establish greater peace in the world. Like that was going to happen. "Ah, Temari-san?"
She turned to see a face she could identify through the mask, the Prince of the Land of Lightning. He had a crush on her, and it was starting to rub her the wrong way.
"Yes Hiromu?" She inquired politely. She hoped she didn't have to destroy his hopes for love. She'd been doing that with too many hopefuls, but she liked Hiromu and didn't want to be the one to break his heart. He bowed, the tips of the feathers that graced his mask brushing her elegent kimono.
"My father would like to know if you will be attending the meeting on agriculture tomorrow afternoon?" Thank God. He's not confessing to me. She thought for a moment.
"I believe so, but I'm not entirely certain. It depends on what the kazekage wishes for me to do. Please thank your father for thinking of me." He bowed to her once more before walking away.
Temari looked around her. She was in a sea of expensive. Jeweled kimonos decorated in complex embroideries, Feathered masks with even more gems; masks that had most likely cost more then she made in a year, and yet would never be worn again. It was a sickening waste of resources and money, one that she dispised. Someone tapped on her shoulder.
"A moment of your time, Temari-sama?" A sleazy voice asked. She spun around only to be hit by a whiff of alchohal. Alchohal meant this was a daimyo's man, few ninja drank, especially when there were so many potential enemies around. She paused to control her gag reflex before answering.
"Of course, what can I do for you?" Her voice was sickly sweet. The man leered from behind his exceedingly bejeweled mask.
"I think there's a lot you can do for me," his eyes slid away from her face, traveling down her body, then snapped back up to her face, the leer replaced by primal hunger. Temari's blood boiled. She chafed at the fact that she couldn't slap him into tomorrow; unfortunatly that was considered undiplomatic. But before she could respond a hand appeared on the man's arm.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt," A deep, cultured voice said. "But I was hoping I might get a dance from the charming lady in the purple mask." The man in the black mask froze, pain evident on his face. The hand was obviously much stronger than it looked. He muttered some excuse and fled, revealing Temari's savior to her.
He was taller then her by about half a head, the dark greem kimono he wore and his excellent posture accenting his height. His kimono was similar in style to those of almost everyone there, except his brushed the ground and hid soft boots which she saw as he shifted. His hands were also gloved, making her wonder what he had to hide. Long black hair hung down to his shoulders from behind his mask, a style that differed from every other man she'd seen. Most had their's intricately braided, or pulled up; his hung undecorated around his face. His face was the most intriguing detail of his. The green of his mask matched that of his kimono, and was completely undecorated save for a few elegent golden-brown lines that ran around the mask randomly, yet somehow expressing a picture she couldn't understand. But what had shocked her slightly was that there were no eyeholes in his mask; she couldn't see any detail of his face from the nose up. How does he see? But she recovered from that minor shock, as the relief flooded over her.
"Thank you," she said. "I was trying to find an ... uh ... appropriate response to his... statement," He chuckled. It was smooth and deep, and she felt almost entranced by it.
"I'd say my pleasure, but I truly hope I never have to do that again." He smiled. "And if it we were in any other situation you would not have needed me; I'm sure you could've handled him yourself easily." She smiled at that. It was true. "Anyways," he continued. "I was planning on asking you for a dance, your friend just happened to give me a good reason to." He held out a gloved hand to her. "May I have this dance, Temari-san?" She gave him a mock curtsy.
"Of course," she simpered in her best imitation of one of the many thoughtless, materialistic court ladies that decorated the hall where the masquerade was held. He laughed in response.
"Well if you use that voice then I'm afraid this dance is over before we even begin it," Temari grinned. Finally, someone who didn't fall all over her just because she was Gaara's sister and advisor. Here was someone willing to play the games of words she loved. He led her out onto the floor, and began spinning her around the circle to the beat of a viennese waltz. They bantered a bit, shooting jibes back and forth Temari finding herself enjoying the dance more then she expected. She wasn't one who went dancing often, and had thought she would despise the dancing at the balls she would have to attend during the peace summit. So far she had, but this was a welcome change. As a lull came into their conversation, a question that had been bothering her came to mind.
"How come everyone, including you, seems to know who I am?" Her partner spun her before answering.
"A beautiful lady like yourself, of course everyone did their best to discover who you were. process of elimination helped." She decided to play along.
"How?"
"You outshine every woman here." She arched an eyebrow at his response. He smirked.
"How could you really tell? It's driving me crazy?" She asked him, letting exasperation creep into her voice. His smirk became a grin.
"Temari no Sabaku is famous for her love of purple, her hair the color of sand, and her piercing green eyes. She's also known for her grace and poise." He waved a hand indicating the ballroom as a whole. "How many other people do you see here wearing purple, let alone fulfilling the rest of the requirements?" She looked around. She did stand out, going by what he had just said.
"But why go to all that trouble just to find me?" She wondered out loud. As her masked partner dipped her down to the floor he answered.
"Everyone wants to dance with a beautiful woman like you," his voice was as smooth as his words. Temari blushed. Wait. She was blushing? She couldn't believe it. She couldn't think of a single other time when the blood had rushed to her cheeks as much as it did now. And then the song ended. Her partner spun her so that they were facing each other. A gentle smile appeared his face.
"May I have another dance?" He asked, his voice now soft. She was about to say yes when another voice interrupted.
"Actually, if you don't mind, I was hoping to dance with her myself," they turned to see Gaara, dressed in a royal blue kimono standing there.
"Of course Kazekage-sama," The green-clothed man replied as he bowed to her brother. "I didn't mean to hog Temari-san." He took her hand and bowed over it, brushing it lightly with his lips as he did so. "Good night, Temari-san." He turned his covered face up towards hers and she felt his gaze. They stood like that for a moment, staring at each other, until he abruptly stood up and walked away. Temari followed him with her eyes until he dissapeared into the crowd. Gaara cleared his throat. She jumped turning towards him.
"Oh, I'm sorry Gaara, you wanted to dance?" Her brother nodded solemnly. They began to move about the circle once more, this time to a slow waltz. It was a little while before Gaara interrupted the silence.
"You seemed to enjoy that man's company," he stated rather then asked. Temari thought about it.
"Yes," she answered his unspoken question. "I enjoyed it because he treated me as me, not as your something." Silence once more.
"I'm glad," her brother's even voice said. "I know how much you hate these things and being here in general, so I'm glad you found some enjoyment." He thought for a moment. "If you wish, at the end of this dance you can retire to your room, you don't have to be here all night." For the second time that evening relief washed over her.
"Thank you Gaara," she said, meaning it deeply. He chuckled at her enthusiasm to leave. The waltz came to a close.
"Good night sister," he said.
"Good night brother," she replied before slipping away through the crowd, using the skills she had mastered as a shinobi to avoid detection. As she exited through the grand entrence to the hall, she didn't notice a man in green follow her out.