I swear, within 6 hours of putting up chapter one, I have 4 reviews. This has never happened before. I don't generally reply to reviews, but there are one or two I would like to address.
Domini-chan- I'll fix that "completed" thing, and you'll just have to wait and see what they do, won't you?
KagomeMarie- Yeah, she does that a lot and I think it's cute.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed. My nipples explode with delight!
One more thing- I wish to give everyone fair warning on because I know where this plot it going and what that will involve and I'll have you know...
Warning: This is a story that deals with real life and real issues. If you cannot handle real life, I suggest you read something else. I refuse to sugar coat anything simply to keep it fiction and protect people. If you want to read a story where everyone is light and happy, sex is always amazing and only little things go wrong, I suggest you read something else. Having said this, any flames will be dealt with by my alter ego- Smartass McBitchypants. Thank you.
Please enjoy.
xXx
As promised, Kankuro came for her the next morning but dressed out of his usual attire. He had adopted the dune colored trousers and pale tunic that were prevalent here. He looked more frightening without his face paint than with. Hinata supposed that it was the unfamiliarity. She, herself, had thought carefully about what to wear. She hadn't brought much to wear, the trip wasn't supposed to be all that long, and most of it was brightly colored. She wore light blue capris, her usual white undershirt and closed toed sandals. Getting sand between one's toes was most uncomfortable and distracting. Hinata felt oddly naked without her parka, but she knew better than to wander around in the desert wearing artic attire.
Kankuro approved. He murmured compliments and nodded to himself while he looked at her as if considering something of great importance. He met her questioningly raised eyebrow with open palms as if to say "it's nothing too life threatening" then offered her his arm. "Shall we?" he said with an over pronounced drawl.
Hinata stifled a giggle. "I'd be honored."
As it would turn out, Kankuro had been sizing and appraising her for a new wardrobe- one more fitting to the revised length and purpose of her stay in Suna. He explained, "There are a lot more functions here now that Temari's in charge. Pretty much anywhere you go on any night you can find a party. I'm thinking that you want to keep relations with Suna on the up and up, yes? Chances are you'll be conned into going to at least two a week."
Hinata protested, "I didn't bring much money with me. I don't even think I have enough to cover a blouse, much less a formal outfit or two."
The sand ninja winked at her. "You let me worry about that, ne? You concern yourself with looking as beautiful as possible, though I admit, it's hard to improve upon perfection." Blushing madly, Hinata began the laborious task of shopping.
xXx
Overall, the day was turning out uneventful, which was welcome. Hinata rehearsed her political rhetoric in her head while choosing colors and prints. She thought carefully over her economic mental notes as shopkeepers sized her and suggested accessories. When the sun approached the horizon and the city streets were awash with red brilliance, Hinata felt she had done a good day's work. True to his word, Kankuro settled all the money matters refusing to let her see even one price tag. She would have to find a way to thank him later.
She hefted her two bags over her shoulders, sighing contentedly. Kankuro strode easily alongside her, pointing out places that were good to eat or that played good music. Hinata declined his every offer to treat her. "You have done so much for me already, I can't accept more. If you will, I would prefer the solitude of my own room." Kankuro shrugged and complained, but graciously escorted her back to her room for the evening.
"There's an upper-class 'meet and greet' tomorrow evening. Temari instructed me to make sure you're there. I'd prefer you to come of your own will but," he said, rubbing his hands together, "I wouldn't say no to clubbing you over the head and dragging you there in a sack!"
Hinata giggled. "I'll be there."
"Awww," pouted Kankuro. "Oh well. Goodnight then."
"Goodnight." Hinata removed the carefully wrapped packages from their bags and stowed them in the wardrobe, but she couldn't resist opening just one kimono. She spread out the jewel blue material on the bed and traced the delicate gold butterflies that gathered thickly at the hem and tapered off elegantly to the shoulders. The shopkeeper had suggested a black obi to match, but Hinata disagreed. She hadn't yet concluded what she wanted, but she would think about it until she did. Until then, she was happy merely to let the silk run over her skin.
xXx
Yet another sleepless night for Gaara. Last nights documents had chased themselves silly in his brain and though he had solved the issues, the Kazekage would much rather have had the sleep. It didn't help that the flushed and angry face of his latest foreign ambassador worried him. Would she send a bad report back to the Hokage? The last thing he needed was for Konoha to be pissed off with him. He probably should have treated her better. Looking up at her a few more times might have helped.
Gaara gave up lying in his hot bed, naked and sweating under the one sheet. He stood, stretching and scratching at the places where the sand had cracked from his lack of concentration. Why did it have to be so bloody hot? Gaara looked quickly around him, though he knew no one was within 100 yards of his bedroom door. Then, he closed his eyes. Slowly, flake by flake, his armor of sand fell away from his body to hover in the air. He brushed off the last clinging specks and directed the sand into its gourd; then took a few steps and reached out to open the large window-door that led to his balcony. Gaara stood completely unclothed in the moonlight and faint breeze of Suna.
Gaara didn't stand like this very often, though he used to do it a lot more when he was younger, less responsible and didn't yet understand what danger it was for him. It made him edgy and his hearing was tuned more finely now that it ever was for even the slightest hint of a footstep. At that point, the sand would fly from its shelter to protect him once more and he would become invulnerable again. He wondered if there had ever been a time he was completely free. Maybe when he was young, he thought as he sat on his wide balcony railing, dangling his feet over the edge. It was six stories to the ground, but he was unafraid. Even completely exposed he was stronger and more agile than most ninja.
The young man let his thoughts wander, content to watch the waxing half-moon rise for a few more hours. Earlier this evening it had been gold, colored so by the dust of the desert, but now it was only white; the color of a woman's face, or so said Kankuro. Gaara tried not to listen to Kankuro very much. His older brother was too loud, too crude. Still, he was older and he had been less sheltered than Gaara and so had many more experiences and more wisdom than his little red haired brother. Gaara remembered lessons on how to be a man. Some lessons had ended with bleeding (a shaving tutorial) and others in fights, but some of the information had proved to be very useful. Gaara had no other man as a role model.
Was he a man now? Gaara looked at himself. He certainly had grown as tall as a man, yet his stubble was so sparse and fine that he only needed to shave once a week. His shoulders were broad and his body hard with long ropes of muscles, but Gaara hadn't seen any of the regular men in his village that looked this way. Most men did not have veins popping out at their elbows and ankles, hell; most men couldn't lift a woman, much less a cart full of people. The pool of things to call himself was very shallow. He was certainly no longer a boy, yet neither was he a teenager and he refused to call himself a monster. What did that leave?
He yawned suddenly and stretched, turning his head from one side to the other to clear his mind. His thoughts always led him here. If he let them, he would be here until dawn chasing his question. Gaara was starting to become tired and in another hour or so, he would be ready to sleep, but not quite yet.
He wondered what other people did when they couldn't sleep. He had often walked the empty streets of Suna, trying to find the elusive. He had looked into people's open windows at their darkened rooms. Sometimes moonlight streamed in and put shadows where there normally would be nothing. It was always so oddly surreal, this pristine night town, and put him in a peaceful mindset.
Of course, he sometimes was allowed the rare privilege of glimpsing a person's bedroom. Most were asleep at two in the morning, but sometimes someone was awake. He had seen things that made his body flush with heat. Gaara preferred the sight of a tender young couple just before they drifted off into an exhausted sleep. That moment was so fragile and warm, it should be stored in a crystal case. He would see these people later on the street, perhaps holding hands, and he would smile to himself. What if it were him? he always thought. Mostly he wondered if he would be able to look the girl in the eye the next day. The awkwardness would give him a coronary.
He jerked suddenly and realized he had been on the verge of sleep. His feet tingled unpleasantly. Now it really was time to sleep. Dawn was a ways off- he'd get an acceptable number of unconscious hours under his belt before he had to deal with tomorrow. Resentfully, he gathered his chakra-laden sand about himself again until his crust was complete. Not bothering to shake the sleep from his eyes, he stumbled into his bed and surrendered to sleep instantaneously.
xXx
A/N- This chapter is a bit shorter than the first one; which I went back and read and realized that I said a lot about things that just didn't matter at all. There may be some pretty heavy revisions to chapter one before I move on. Advice would be appreciated.