"Girls, girls, girls!" Temari commanded, her voice a few hundred decibels higher than that of the din caused by overly enthusiastic Konoha shinobi. "And guys," the somewhat overbearing female added hastily, realizing that the males she had summoned as well actually turned up. To her left, Shikamaru let out a carefree groan. Why am I here... the pony-tailed man wondered, not bothering to cover his mouth as he yawned. He could feel Temari's beautiful teal eyes glaring daggers at him.
Wait a minute. Did... Did he just describe the blond tigress' eyes as beautiful? What the...
Shikamaru would have liked to tell himself it was a slip of a thought, a random occurrence... But no, even the great thinker of Konoha himself could identify when he was falling in... The man cringed.
Love. Sighing, he fingered his symbolic earrings... Once he overheard a female student gushing over a male counterpart with her cynical best friend, who replied rather matter-of-factly to the former's much-fantasized about marriage plans with the poor boy. "I think I'd prefer marrying a man with pierced ears," the more mature of the two kunoichi said flatly, an eyebrow raised. "After all, they've experienced pain in a place not many men have and they've bought jewellery."
Upon recalling the incident, Shikamaru rubbed his thumbs against the balls. Marriage, huh... He closed his eyes, tempted to exhale deeply again, but deciding against it. Looked like the Nara curse was still running strong eh...
The first Chuunin of his generation scratched the back of his head nonchalantly. Well... Slowly, he twisted his neck so he could scrutinize Temari's features. Hmm... he thought as his eyes scanned the female physically next to him. Not too bad of a bust, but not better than Hinata's... Oh well, that was forbidden territory, unless he wanted another war. No, he had seen enough bloodshed during the long-drawn battles against Uchiha Madara.
He tilted his head backwards, examining her facial features from a further distance. Meh... Shikamaru frowned, knowing he was falling deeper and deeper into that downward spiral of despair... Not that he'd ever experienced it, anyhow. As if I'd have a chance with her... the man mused at the thought, smiling for himself though he didn't really mean it. She's probably going to get married off to some other lucky dude from another village... Or another country altogether... Like her brother...
Shikamaru felt helplessness at this, sensing the oncoming tears. Damn it, he cursed himself, his eyebrows coming together as he clenched his fists and bit his lower lip. Now she's going to tease me and call me a crybaby again...
"Sorry, Temari," Shikamaru mumbled, turning his body so that all the people assembled could only see his back. "I've got something else to do. Bye."
The Sunagakure ninja frowned, then she shrugged and waved a passive hand. "Do what you want," she said, feeling quite offended. After all, the man decided he had something more important to do after he had just practically spent half a damn day with her? She wasn't going to stay in Konoha for too long, and that bastard was just throwing away their time together... Did she really mean that little to him?
Temari wanted to run after her colleague, to grab him by his pony tail and beat the shit out of him... And then seek his advice about her feelings for him. But no, she was strong. Mentally and emotionally stronger than most female shinobi. The blond woman always was, especially after the death of her mother. She didn't want him to get her down, so Temari continued to order her fellow comrades, who were rather enthusiastic after finding out Gaara's earnest initiatives.
Extremely distracted and partially upset, the female wind user resisted a pout and looked over her brother's wedding plans. It would be a Shinto- style, traditional wedding, nothing less for the Kazekage. Though usually only family members attend the ceremony, Temari decided to bend the rules a little bit - every one of Hinata's friends and comrades would be allowed to go. Then they would follow to the reception and have a feast...
Yes, that would do. A few million, on the Hyuuga and her family's part - still, nothing less than a picture-perfect wedding for her youngest brother. Temari forced an assuring grin, trying to convince the Konoha ninja at her command that the wedding would work out. "Alright then," her voice resounded throughout the spacious training grounds. "Let me tell you guys - and girls - what's on the agenda..."
Meanwhile, in Hinata's room...
The pair had stopped their gentle rocking, and now Hinata nestled in her husband's warm embrace, her eyes still closed, her frame now relaxed against Gaara's strong torso. They simply enjoyed the silence together, their thoughts about each other multiplying in their minds...
"Have you ever been to a Hot Springs bathhouse before?" Hinata murmured softly, her delicate fingers tracing the fabric of Gaara's clothing. He shivered, and he didn't really know why. Hm... This relationship has been driving and forcing him into unknown territory...
"No," he answered rather stoically, wondering where such things had come from, what had possessed Hinata to ask him such a weird question. "Temari and Kankuro have been patrons of one here... But they came without me, so no, I haven't."
Gaara felt his beautiful flower nod, her hair tussling. He felt her long midnight blue tresses brush against his crossed legs. The Kazekage knitted his eyebrows upwards, annoyed at his confusion at what was happening to him.
"I don't really understand the logic of a hot spring anyway," Gaara said, relating his perception of such baths to the girl. "You could just make a fire underneath your own bathtub at home and bathe in it."
Hinata constructed a mental picture, and she giggled with innocent amusement. "Gaara-kun," her smile spreading outward on her lips. "I... I think that's the equivalent of boiling yourself alive..."
Gaara contemplated her take on his. "Hm," he thought it over. "I guess you're right..."
"Do you want to try the hot springs?" Hinata enquired, thinking the hot water could soothe her relatively still-frayed nerves... "It's-it's a shame if you're here already and you don't want to try it... The experience is actually quite therapeutic..."
Gaara mulled over the temperature of the water, the fact that there would be other people in the bathhouse... Naked... Then he thought of Hinata's subtle insistence of his patronage... How he could make her at least a little happier if he conceded.
"Alright," the kage finally said, and he waited for his wife to leave his arms... As she tore away from him Gaara noted that something felt like it was... Missing... Something that ought to be there and sharing his body heat and personal space... Wasn't there anymore... Strange, the word appeared in his brain... Ever since he met Hinata his composure was going haywire...
Gaara stood up, smoothening the creases the white-eyed girl had made. He picked his gourd up and slung it around his shoulders. Hinata put her usual lavender jacket over
her mesh shirt. "Let's go," the Kazekage said, monotonous, as he slid the door open and ignored the puzzled, suspicious looks Hanabi gave him.
"Onee-chan," the girl started, rather disturbed. "You know that Tsunade-sama said..."
Her sister flushed with embarrassment, and she shook her head quite violently. Gaara closed his eyes and sighed, a little amused. "Don't worry, little sister," he addressed, patting an awkward palm on the shorter girl's head. "Your sister and I didn't do anything illegal..." At his words, the kage pondered over their double meaning...
"Let me rephrase," Gaara mused over Hanabi's horror-filled expression, she caught the pun. Hinata felt faint behind her husband. "Hinata and I didn't have -"
"Aren't we going, Gaara-kun!" Hinata yelled, mortified by the thought of what he was going to say next. Flustered and rattled, the girl whose blush almost matched the shade of Gaara's own dark red hair seized his wrist and pulled him away. She turned her head in a flurry and ran through the hallway with the Kazekage in tow, leaving Hanabi flabbergasted and unsure of what she had to be done next.
"We're going to have to do it one day," the man said bluntly, shattering the thin silence that plagued the air as the pair walked down the path to the famous hot springs. Vexed, Hinata cringed at the very thought of the act - how embarrassing! How shameful! How...
Ew...
At her silence, Gaara seemed more bemused than ever. "Do you know how it's done?" he questioned, his hands relaxed. "Or would you like me to enlighten you?"
The poor girl nearly dropped dead. "P-please don't," she mumbled, her words barely audible. "I... I know the mechanics behind it..."
The Kazekage nodded, looked ahead. "Ah well," he sighed, unwilling to let go of this new fun. "Makes it easier then."
Hinata's face flushed more than ever, and her husband marveled at her adept ability to instantly direct blood to her head. She simply nodded curtly, her mind obviously thinking about his words and their meaning... As much as she would have liked to forget all about the conversation. The kage smirked a little, quite pleased with himself. And then he let the girl off, dropping the topic altogether. "Turn right, right?" he pointed to the fork in the street, guessing his way around.
The ex-heiress nodded, believing her voice would betray her unease and nervousness. What on earth had possessed her to ask Gaara out, anyway? She averted her eyes from her husband's body quickly, trying to keep the windows to her own soul occupied with other, less seductive objects.
Wait a minute. Did she just think of Gaara as... seductive? Hinata held her breath, realizing her mistake. Wait... Was that a mistake? It was as though Gaara was messing with her head... And making every thought she had about him into a transgression. But hey, it wasn't as though she wasn't allowed to seek love and true affection in this forced and rather structured relationship...
If it were meant to be hers from the start, then she would end up with eventual happiness. Hinata was already starting to feel a small connection with him... And however minuscule it was, it certainly was there.
Her train of thought went awry as a deep, flat voice brought her back to reality. It was Gaara, and he announced their arrival. The girl smiled shyly, staring at the entrance.
"Are we going to stay the night? Or bathe and go?" Gaara enquired, at the front desk. The receptionist, a fairly middle-aged woman whose eyes sparkled in admiration and wonder at the oblivious redhead, had told him of protocol. Her words prior to his had come out with more stammering than the usual stutters Hinata had, but still, the Kazekage remained quite the innocent customer. His wife. on the other hand, had noticed this and pondered over just how famous the man she had married was.
"Oh, my," the annoying lady gasped in self-induced embarrassment. She could recognize him, as the Kazekage, and that only made her sudden infatuation with Gaara expand. "I'm afraid only married couples or groups of children with guardians are allowed to share a room," she informs, knowing full well the pair in front of her were definitely not siblings... Or cousins.
Sure, he was the Kazekage, the shinobi who had rallied all five hidden villages of Konoha, Suna, Kumo, Iwa, Kiri... And the samurai from the Land of Iron. Gaara was hailed as one of the many heroes, a part of the noble group who had fought against Madara fiercely to bring peace... Gaara was famous, revered, acknowledged... Now all he needed was a wife, the personification of perfection, to complete the picture...
"I won't do anything to you, I still remember what Tsunade said," he mumbled bluntly, making the awkwardness level shoot through the roof. Hinata froze, and the world around her laughed at her unease. "Okay," he murmured, taking the girl's silence as consent. Gaara turned to face the starry-eyed receptionist. "A room, please."
Unable to resist his voice and subtle charm, the woman succumbed and led the pair to their room, Hinata walking as if she were walking on hot coals. The lady slid the door open, revealing a rather large room with tatami matting. "Here is your room, Kazekage-sama," the older woman said as she left in a hurry, giggling.
Gaara tilted his head a bit, quite puzzled by her behaviour. Oh well, the man dismissed the many assumptions that had appeared in his brain. She's probably worse than Matsuri...
Reminding himself of the girl back home, Gaara recalled the conversation they had before he departed for his omiai...
Matsuri frowns, her fists clutching the material of her pants. She sits on a chair opposite the revered Kazekage, her tears held back by pure will.
"I... Why didn't you tell me," the girl sighs, her voice trembling. Her closed fists quiver on her legs, her entire body is shaking. But it isn't a question - even she knows it is impossible to leak such information to the villagers, be it her or anyone else. The Sunagakure can not handle this; since her days as a Genin her Sensei had taught and honed her skills, working with her even though she had been extremely hesitant with handling the basics of being a ninja - weaponry.
Matsuri wants to shout her love for the man sitting stoically in front of her, however she knows it will not change the situation. She knows... Because she knows he is the Kazekage.
"You know why," he finally answers. Gaara attempts to keep his tone gentle - his first student is still very dear to him. His pale green eyes soften - he understands the feelings of abandonment Matsuri is feeling; he felt that way and worse when Yashamaru had betrayed him.
As his invisible eyebrows knit upwards, Gaara smiles a weak smile, a suggestion to the girl to cheer up. "Me being married isn't going to be the end of the world, Matsuri," the kage assures. "I'll be a little busier, but that doesn't mean I won't see you at all."
"Still, I... I..." his student's voice finally cracks, but she resists the tears. Having already pooled at her eyes, they are threatening to flow down her pale cheeks... Matsuri cannot cry, especially not here... Because the man who would witness the evidence of her sorrow and anguish would be her Sensei, her idol... Her Kazekage. "At least tell me her name, please..."
"I don't know her name."
At this, the girl's strong will nearly shatters, it is so unfair! She, she who has known her master for most of her life! She, who knows what he prefers to what he is indifferent to... She, who understands his actions without reasoning... She, who truly loves him. The kunoichi with brown hair slumps her head some more, vexed by her personal feelings for her Sensei.
"Matsuri," he murmurs, and he lifts her face up to look at her. She bites her lower lip, ashamed by the near-appearance of potential tears.
"It's alright to cry," he says, and at Gaara's words the dam breaks, her emotions come pouring out of her eyes... There are just so many closed desires, so many oxymoronic feelings...
Hate, for the detestable woman her master is to marry, loathing for those despicable elders who arranged this abomination... Yet, the overwhelming love for the man himself that Matsuri is unable to abhor the Kazekage... Resignation, as she knows full well nothing she does will change the engagement... Despair, the girl is pumped with that; she can do nothing but watch, watch and congratulate the couple as the man she loves becomes entwined in a relationship she plays no part in...
Matsuri senses herself falling apart, the inconsistent spasms of her body as she gasps and sighs... The stickiness of her skin as the tears flow down, leaving a damp, hot, dry path... Before many other tears come one after another, a relentless waterfall of shattered dreams...
She would have recited the rule of shinobi, where a true ninja does not show his feelings nor his emotions... If she hadn't had become a damn wreck herself... "I-I'm sorry... It's just... I... Gaara-sama..."
"Matsuri," the redhead soothes, rubbing her shoulders rhythmically. "It's okay to cry."
As he finishes his sentence, a small knock is heard, signaling the end of their conversation. Gaara sighs, though his expression remains stoic and aloof. But Matsuri knows there is always more to him than that... She knows that he is forever thinking about something... Would she know?
The Kazekage picks his gourd up from the ground, ensuring his student has calmed down. And then, he turns his back on her, his eyes closed though nobody can see him.
Gaara walks slowly to the door, his shoes making the only sound in the dead quiet atmosphere. His right hand caresses the knob, knowing what he will have to face the moment he sets out from his office.
"Matsuri," he says her name a final time, a sudden gust of wind entering the room. His bright red hair blows lazily to the right with the breeze, his left fist somewhat closed... The girl tries desperately to impart this moment into her brain, the last she'll ever get to see her first love as a bachelor.
"I have to go now," Gaara continues, and the door knob turns slightly, the squeaking noise echoing throughout the hollow room.
Please don't go, please don't go... Please don't... Begging the gods for him to turn around, to race to her and declare his love, Matsuri notices the searing heat of her once-again approaching tears... Her dykes are struggling against the weight of her emotions. She frowns deeply, pinching herself to keep those damn tears away. The kunoichi wants to move, to talk some sense into the man, to make him see what she sees...
The kage opens the door, the wood parts with the frame. His attendants wait patiently for their leader. He hesitates.
"I'm sorry," Gaara finishes, and he leaves, her first love gone forever.