Hello lovelies,
I love this chapter, it finally reveals some back story to the mystery of Gaara and the tension between him and his grumpy pink haired mate continues to escalate. This chapter has also received attention and reworking but it's perhaps not as noticeable, I still hope you love it and enjoy it!
Thanks for reading and extra love for you reviewers!
xoxo
Rose
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I am not sure what I did this time but the frosty silence that my pink haired mate has kept up assures me that I did indeed do something. Though none of my puzzling has given me a clue as to what, I have decided, based on her stony silence, to take this time to conduct further observations.
As she sits on the ground, leaning against a metal pole with a strange picture on it and the words "Bus Stop" in black letters, she seems to have the neurotic need to sort the debris around her. Breaking the twigs into inch long pieces she creates a tiny stack of wood, like logs for miniature people. On the other side of her shoe she piles all the pebbles in a mound and all the loose grass she has managed to scrape up she pushes together into a pile before hollowing out the middle.
The actions, while completely lost on me, seem to soothe her and when she looks up at me again, this is probably the fourth time now, she doesn't flinch like she has been, as if frightened by the very sight of me. Instead, when she looks at me this time she sighs, as if she's resigned herself to my presence.
Her mouth twists into a rueful half smile and she pats the ground beside her. I don't know exactly what that means so I only edge closer uncertainly.
When she realizes that I don't understand her meaning she huffs in exasperation. "Are you going to sit down or are you going to stand there staring all day?"
Thrilled at the invitation I carefully seat myself on the ground beside her. It's odd that I feel so tentative around my mate but I have to admit, her sudden and violent mood shift are a little disconcerting.
"So," she says slowly, plucking at some leaves, "I'm on my way to see my therapist today. I'm going to talk to her about you and maybe she and I can figure out why you're here and how I can get rid of you."
I scowl, somewhat offended. "I will not be gotten rid of."
"Hey now don't go getting all offended. You're the one who showed up out of nowhere and then you keep freaking me out or being a rude jerk!"
She tells me not to get offended yet she uses such offensive and defensive language. "I have not been rude in the least." I respond patiently. "You are the one who is uncomfortable with honesty."
"You really want me to be honest?" She looks at me for a moment, eyebrows raised as if asking for confirmation, like she's expecting me to retract my request. I tell myself to remember to always be very clear with her on this sort of thing so that maybe one day she'll learn to trust my words without having to question them. Perhaps this is part of the key to why she is so vigilant in keeping the walls between us. For now I nod at her seriously, eyes holding hers. She huffs in response and then says, "Fine. Anyway I was asking you to sit down because I wanted to try and call a truce for the time being but now you've gone and pissed me off again."
Truces are a good start. "...I would like a truce." I say.
"Well," she says hesitantly, "you have to know I can't promise to be totally truce-y all the time if you want me to be honest with you."
It seems like she is being honest already. I feel a tingle of optimism. "If you tell me how I've upset you then I can fix it more efficiently so I see no problem with this."
"And I might forget sometimes. And I'm still going to get rid of you."
"I shall just have to remind you then. And I assure you that you will not be successful. There is only one thing that can prevent me from staying and I will ensure that that does not happen."
"Wait, you know how to get you out of my head?"
"As I have already told you I am not a figment of your imagination. I am quite real and cannot just be willed out of existence." A very large metal machine is pulling up beside us now. It looks like the same one that she rode away on yesterday.
"Wait you know how to-"
The glass doorway folds open and she snapped her mouth shut, frustration sparking in her eyes. I suppress a chuckle at the expression and watch as I see thoughts flicker rapidly behind her eyes. I enjoy these types of exchanges. The warm feeling our bantering and my own laughter leaves in my chest is foreign but incredibly pleasant.
She stands up and I rise with her, preparing myself to leap onto the top of the metal machine as I did yesterday when, suddenly, I feel every nerve ending as if I have been electrocuted.
She has grabbed my hand.
Sakura. Is. Holding. My. Hand.
She jerks her arm, silently urging me to follow her but my muscles are locked in place so overwhelmed I am from the unexpected physical contact. I look at her and she seems almost as surprised as me. As if even now, after having already felt my hands and previously shoving me to the ground it's still a shock to her that I have a corporeal body.
Or maybe she can also hear this chorus swelling under my ribs?
"Are you gonna get on or what?" I look up and see the bus driver, a heavy set man with a hairy face and thick eyebrows, scowling down at us.
I take a deep breath and tug her hand a little. I've gathered myself enough that I can process other thoughts beside her touch.
Sakura still seems a little shaken but her grip tightens and she practically tows me along with her up the steps and into the tube like metal and plastic space. She releases my hand to pull a small plastic rectangle from her pocket and slide it through a thin slit. I am not totally sure I trust this large contraption we have entered but that only makes it more necessary that I am in it with her.
I follow her down the aisle and when she slides into a seat at the back I perch on the far edge of the one next to her. As much as I want to I can't stay too close to Sakura at the moment; my self control has yet to develop fully when it comes to her and I don't want to push things too far.
She rummages around in her bag and pulls out her small talking box. She holds it to her ear and then says, "So Gaara I wanted to ask you about what you were saying before. About, you know, knowing how to make yourself...be gone?"
I scan our surroundings, searching for something to explain why she's talking to me without looking at me and holding the talking box. Finding nothing I look back at her. "What you doing?"
"Well, no one's close enough to hear what I'm saying but I don't want anybody to look back her and wonder why I'm talking to myself. So I'm pretending to talk to you on my phone."
The world outside is flashing by. It's odd how fast this machine can move while inside we are still. However I am learning that my mate is odder still. "Why do you care what strangers may think?"
She plucks at her hair, turning her head towards me slightly as she answers."Because enough people already think I'm crazy. I don't want to add to the list."
Why does my mate seem so convinced that she is mad? "Why do people think you're crazy?"
"...there was a bit of an incident." She responds reluctantly, "It wasn't pretty and the aftermath hasn't been either."
"What aftermath?"
"Oh you know, people glaring at you, talking down to you, avoiding meeting your eyes, ignoring you. General social ostracization. That sort of aftermath."
This strikes me. I have known these things, I have looked into faces twisted with revulsion and hatred. I have felt the rejection and judgment of the masses. There is no way that she could have done what I did. But I must ask.
"Did you attack someone?"
Her eyes focus on me as her expression turn incredulous. "Do I seem like the attacking type?"
I think about her ever occurring mood swings "...possibly."
"Well I'm not. Well,", she smiles awkwardly, "not since I was a kid anyway."
I picture a small pink haired child with blood on her fists. "You were violent as a child?"
She shrugs. "I punched a few people in the face. But you never answered my question."
I had hoped she had forgotten. "And I do not intend to. I cannot."
"What do you mean you can't?" Her voice rises with frustration. "You just told me a few minutes ago that you know."
She will simply not let this go. "But I am bound not to tell you."
"Bound? Bound by who?"
I wish I could tell her everything. I wish this could be simpler. But if I fear if I continue to answer her that she will learn too much and the contract will be broken and I will lose her and myself forever. I must remain silent for fear of this.
She watches me, waiting. Then her jaw sets and I see she has realized that I am through answering her questions.
"Oh now you play the silent game. Fine." She huffs, "I can play too." And with that she turns her back to me and begins to fiddle with her talking box.
I am learning quickly that when Sakura gets into a testy mood it is best to give her a moment to herself. And I feel as if I need a moment to myself as well. I've been so wrapped up in meeting my mate that I have not given myself a moment to think on what has transpired in the past two days. To reflect on the unexpected turn my life had taken. Only yesterday morning I had been trying to end my life...
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I figured the only way to kill myself was to go to the sea. There the ocean's powers would be greater than my own. There I could drown myself. There I would find a peaceful, endless oblivion where even I couldn't be lonely.
So I went. The path I traveled was short but it was still far too long for my weary heart. When I finally smelt the sea's brine I ran faster than I ever had before; I ran towards death.
And then, there it was. Before me, becoming closer with every second, were the towering cliffs that looked out over the open sea and my soon to be grave. The water was blue and white and it crashed with sucking roars against the jagged earthen faces of the resistant land. Filled with an emotion closer to glee than anything else I ever remember feeling, I sprinted still faster. With one great leap I threw myself from the edge of the cliff.
As I soared out over the ocean I had a thought: Perhaps if I could fly, living a while longer wouldn't be so bad...
But it was a foolish thought; flying alone would be no less lonely than running alone.
And then my flight ceased and I was falling; falling to my welcome death.
I closed my eyes. I had seen enough of this world. In these last moments I wanted to feel life. Feel everything with every part of my being. The air against my skin, the spice of salt in my nostrils, the sea's mist on my tongue-all before the icy plunge that would burn like fire through my lungs before tucking my mind under a blanket of merciful black sleep that wouldn't end...
I felt the jarring pain of impact but...no wet, no ice, no rocking lullaby of life stealing waves. I was dry and warm and the surface I laid against did not move...
I opened my eyes and saw sand beneath me. I felt the shift of the grains under my palms in horror.
"No!" I cried as I leapt to my feet. I whipped around to look back towards where I had jumped from and saw, stretched out over the distance, a ribbon slim path of slithering pale brown all the way back to the shore. The ribbon connected to the platform of sand on which I stood and fed my little island from the stock pile of sand from the beach. I watched the edges of my isle in shock while they continued expanding outwards as the volume of the brown grit increased. It seemed even the powers of the ocean could not deter the earths dedication to preserving my cursed life.
I had to move quickly before there was too much sand to escape from. With a bestial roar I sprang forward as far as I could, attempting to jump off the island and swim below the waters surface, but the damned substance reached out across the distance I had jumped and formed a bowl for me to land in. I switched tactics like lightning and crouched down, using all of my muscles to spring as high as I could I tried to overcome the gritty lip of the bowls curve, but the barrier simply grew upward and pushed me back down with a gentle nudge.
Snarling like a caged animal I tried running, digging, beating my way through the walls that separated me from death. I used all of my impossible strength, strength that would kill a beast in one blow, but my loyal sand did not yield, never showed any signs of giving at all.
Hours later, exhausted, my hands and voice both raw from angry use, I fell to my knees in despair.
"Why! Why won't you let me die! I want out! I'm sick of living alone! I have nothing to live for; my existence has no meaning...I'm suffocating..."
"You! Boy!"
My head snapped up and I glared in the direction of the voice, my mind quickly processing the rapidly shrinking distance between me and the sea cliffs while my eyes picked out the wrinkled and ancient figure of an old woman from against the ridge of the cliff.
"Yes, you boy! Do you see anyone else I could be yelling at around here?"
I snarled at the hag; of all the times in my life for someone to try to talk to me right now was the very worst of times to have chosen.
"Oh stop your growling you over grown lap dog and get up here before you do something stupid."
Her voice creaked like the wheels of a splintering gypsy wagon and annoyed me immensely.
"Leave me in peace old woman!" I yelled up hoarsely at her, "Today is the wrong day to taunt the demon spawn."
"I'm not taunting you you idiot and we're on a schedule so get your angsty ass up here and let's get a move on!"
My sand rose in fury and I rode the raging swell up the crest of rock that she stood upon. "Do you want to die old woman?" I thundered down at her, "Because if that is what you want you can just throw yourself from the cliff! Please! Remind me again of how I can't ever have what I long for most!"
The layers of her wrinkled face creased and refolded into what looked like a smirk. "Bout time you got up here angsty ass."
Blood rang in my ears and I felt tendrils of sand reaching out towards her, hungry for the rich liquid that beat through her veins. It had been so long since I had allowed myself to kill anything but animals for my food. So long since I had given into more demonic tendencies and let myself enjoy the sound of human screams...
No. I am not...I am not a monster
No, no, no, no, no, no...Eyes closed I let the word chase itself around my mind as I focused on the flow of air through my mouth and out my nostrils. In, out, inhale, exhale, calm, anger, in, out, in, out...
When I opened my eyes I saw that the stout figure of the infuriating old woman hadn't moved an inch since when my sand first began to approach her. Instead she had stayed completely still, her eyes examining me with an unnerving intensity.
I stared back at her, my blood cooling as I studied the ancient creature.
Her skin hung heavy around every feature, the scarf wrapped around her head only created more shadows along her brow and her eyes bore out through the darkness. Penetrating and unabashed they searched me for something that I knew not of.
"Come with me."
I blinked in surprise and watched as the old woman turned away and hobbled swiftly along the edge of the cliff.
"What?"
She turned back towards me, irritation at my disobedience of her command woven into the wrinkles around her mouth.
"I have someone who can help you with your problem." Her words were abrupt and she spun around as soon as they were out, shuffling away purposefully.
I stood there in shock for a moment; staring after her swiftly disappearing figure-wait-where did she go!
Jumping down from my sandy dais I ran to where I just seen her lumpy form vanish, arriving at the spot in a few seconds of rushing air. Where was she? There were only so many directions she could go...
I looked down, the only direction she could have gone that my half demon eyes couldn't have seen her take. Sure enough, there were rough hewn stone steps cut into the cliff side a few inches from my bare, dust covered foot and, hobbling down them and cursing under her breath, was the old crone.
I flashed down the stairs, my feet light on the crumbling rocks that didn't look as if anyone has passed over them for countless years.
"You mean you know someone who can kill me?" My voice had returned to its usual softer timbre but was filled with urgency unusual to it; what if this woman held my answer?
"No you dim wit!" Her harsh voice cut across the space between us and rammed itself offensively into my ears. "Suicide is selfish, hasn't anyone ever told you that?"
I stopped and stared at her hunched back in stark incredulity. "What are you talking about? I have no loved ones to leave behind. I have only myself."
She kept on down the stairs that were now doubling back, huddling closer to the cliff face as the wind around us picked up and cold sea spray reached up to the low slung sky that roiled with different shades of grey. "You'd be leaving her behind!"
"Her-Who are you talking about?"
The crone just continued further down and a second later I realized that, while I might be able to hear her responses over the roar of the wind and the sighs of the waves, her ancient human senses were not as acute as mine and couldn't detect my question from so far away. But I needed to hear her answer, needed it now, and so I leapt down from the stretch of cliff that I stood on, sailing through the air and landing in a crouch on the stairs in front of the woman. I straightened and she glared at me, unimpressed.
"Who are you talking about?" I demanded.
"Your mate you idiot!"
Those words changed everything.
That moment changed everything.
In that moment everything froze. The wind kept blowing but I could not hear it. The waves licked up the ragged rock walls but I could not feel their spray. Could not feel the edges of the earth beneath my bare feet, could not sense the movement or the breath of the world around me; there was only the world inside me, a world thrumming with a word and a meaning I had yet to fully process.
"My...mate?
"Yes." her voice had moved beyond me and I whirled around to see that in my stupor the old woman had maneuvered around my body and was proceeding though the rain down the quickly slickening steps. "Yes you dim wit, everyone has one. She needs you just as much as you need her; are you going to leave her all alone?"
I followed her, my mind a haze of desperation. "I have a mate?"
She stopped in front of a stretch of soaked stone wall and prodded it with her bony finger. "Are you deaf?"
My chest was tightening; heart was humming with unfamiliar hope. "Where is she?"
"Well that's the problem isn't it?" Her finger traced out patterns against the rock. "Finding mates is always tricky, especially for people with parents from different dimensions like yourself...makes things very complicated let me tell you." She pressed her palm against the sediment and a portion sunk back with a rumble and then began to slide sideways, disappearing into darkness while I stared in astonishment at the sudden doorway. "Mates can end up anywhere in the fabric, any dimension, any era you name it! Helps that you're part demon though, generally narrows down the gender field by about half though we do get those free swingers from time to time..." The sliding portion of stone had vanished completely and the crone stepped forward into a lightless tunnel. "Ahhh here we go-watch your head."
I followed her into the shadows, small pools of water marking each step I took. "If she could be anywhere...is there any way to find her?
She walked on assuredly despite the darkness. This path was familiar to her and though I wondered what she was leading me too I knew the question didn't matter. I would follow the old woman, and the light of hope she had held before my long desolate heart, anywhere.
"Didn't I say I was bringing you to see someone who could help you?" I heard her palm scrape against the stone again and a sharp clink of rock against rock before another section of wall began to slide away into the unknown, revealing a faint pink glow beyond the woman's figure. "And people say that I'm hard of hearing." The crotchety creature mumbled to herself, "Heh, it's you youth who just need to listen better..."
The cavern we were passing through now was vast. Pools of water were scattered throughout, stalactites and stalagmites were everywhere and, embedded in the floor and ceiling of the cave, were massive chunks of glowing pink crystal that lit everything as far as I could see. "Who," I asked, "are you bringing me to see?"
"Oh the lady goes by many names. Possibly the most accurate depiction of her is Xochiquetzal but she's also known as Venus, Aphrodite, Branwen, Sjofn, Freya, Turan, Astrild...None that you would recognize of course but I suppose you can just address her as My Lady." We had reached another tunnel again, this one lit by small lavender gems, and I felt pressure begin to build in my ears as we went down further and further in to the earth. "What's important for you to know" she continued, "is who she is."
A thought was niggling at the edge of my dizzied consciousness, struggling to be heard, then- "Wait." I stopped, completely furious with myself for not having asked myself this earlier.
The crone paused as well but kept her back to me. "What?"
"I need to know;" I asked, voice low, tight, controlled, "why are you helping me?"
Please, please don't let this be a lie. Please.
"...I knew your mother." For the first time the old woman didn't sound brusque, assured. She looked smaller than she had a moment ago and her voice was...sad. "I owed her a great debt but she...died before I was able to repay it."
I had never before met anyone who had known my mother, had no way to prove the truthfulness of her words yet...I sensed the sincerity of her pain and that I could understand, could believe. "...I see."
"Ahem." She shook herself and turned enough to glare over her hunched shoulder at me, "Good well, before we go any further you need to know who we will be summoning."
"Summoning?" I watched her hand reach out and disappear into a crevice, heard her fingernails scratch along a smooth surface before coming to a stop.
" Yes you idiot!" She snapped in impatience, "Gods don't just live in one temple all the time!"
Did she just say-"...Gods?"
"Yes," Her frail arm twisted something within the shadowed space and with a now familiar clink, a massive rumbling filled the tunnel and steam and light rushed out of the new opening to illuminate and obscure her elderly figure. "You see, I am the high priestess of the Goddess of Love."
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