Anxiety—Noun

A feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.

Ami had never had the luxury of being able to define herself as a 'calm person'. She was quick on her feet, able to think well in crisis situations, but when it all broke down to it, she was a nervous woman. Prone to think that the worse would certainly happen, prone to feel as if there was some sort of weight on her chest when a problem arose until the problem resolved itself.

Now though as she made her way through the streets, left hand pinching her earlobe in a nervous tick she'd picked up from god knows where, right hand on the hilt of her sword, just in case.

More and more the past few days, with dead coming back to life, Ami could not shake off the feeling of dread that had been building within her. She'd been getting the same feeling she had the entire time she had been in her native village just a few years before.

Like there were demons nearby.

Like her life was in danger.

Like everyone's life was in danger.

Still, she wasn't entirely sure that this sort of gut feeling could be trusted. There hadn't been demons in Sunagakure since Shukaku had been extracted from Gaara, and the large beasts chakra still lingered to such an extent that the smaller demons were too afraid of being eaten to come near.

Ami did her best to think logically about the entire thing, and she could feel the anxiety and nervousness lift off of her just a bit, though the ice that felt like it was flowing through her veins did not leave, and the small hairs on the back of her neck refused to lay flat. Taking a deep breath, as she ducked into a corner store, Ami gave a quick nod to the shopkeeper that greeted her.

It would be all right.

There were no demons in Sunagakure.

There was no reason for her to be anxious or nervous or any variation of those emotions.

Though, as she walked through the aisles of the corner store, grabbing a box of green tea and a few other miscellaneous things that they'd run out of at home, Ami couldn't help but remember that there was a good reason to be nervous even if it wasn't because of demons.

The people that Gaara had killed had come back to life, and it was easy to tell they were discontent with their new Kazekage.

Walking with Gaara to work had changed from the special moment they shared together before their busy work day, something private and intimate before the demands of being a Kazekage, a Kazekage's body guard and wife robbed them of any private time together before late that night.

Now though, Kankuro had joined on as an extra bodyguard for her husband—just in case. Until it was decided if those brought back to life could be trusted to not attack him, having an extra person to help protect Gaara seemed for the best. Though he hardly seemed happy about the change. As much as Gaara loved and cared for his brother, he had never been one to like having any guards at all.

Was it pride? Ami still found herself unsure what motivated her husband in that regard.

Deep in her thoughts, she couldn't help but jolt when she felt a hand on her shoulder—letting out an audible sigh of relief when she saw it was Gaara. "Don't sneak up on me like that." A half second's pause, keeping a tight grip on the tea in her hands, "What're you doing here? I though Kankuro was supposed to be looking after you."

"I'm not a child, Ami. I don't need a babysitter." A frown, on the Kazekage's lips as he looked down at his wife. He recognized the danger of the present situation well enough, but getting out and having a moment to himself—at least five minutes to himself, was something that he needed. Not to be followed around by guards. Glancing down and noting the tea in her hand, "I saw we were out of tea, I came to buy some. I suppose you beat me too it."

Lips set in a thin line; quite aware that he was unhappy with the current position they were in. Not that she could blame him, she herself was unhappy with what was going on.

As much as she enjoyed Karura and Yashamaru's company, Ami believed that the dead should stay dead.

Especially after what happened in the war.

"I was just about to check out." Walking over to the shopkeeper and paying him before she strode out of the shop—glad to see that he was still by her side as she left.

It was hard, to be the wife and bodyguard of the Kazekage. She was very rarely able to balance the two. Protecting his emotions, making sure he was happy and protecting him physically very rarely went hand in hand with each other. This was not to say that she didn't love him, she still loved him with all her heart, but it seemed that so many times in their young marriage it came to a choice.

Be happy with him, and willfully ignorant of any danger that may face him, or be careful, be wary—be everything she had been taught to be as his guard, and be tense with him.

Still, she always chose keeping him safe.

She would always choose to keep him safe.

Free hand leaving her side and taking his own in a rare moment of tenderness in the trying times they were in.

The heavy feeling in her chest refused to go away. If anything, it only got worse as they walked back to the mansion in silence. She felt torn, really—torn between speaking to him like a wife. Assuring him that things would get better soon, that they would go back to normal soon, or speaking to him like a bodyguard. That they needed to be careful, that they needed to expect the worst and hope for the best.

Instead she stayed quiet. If figuring out what to say was impossible, perhaps not saying anything at all was for the best.

She was no longer the bride in red she'd been at their wedding. That moment of being able to drop the role of protector, the time when she could pretend that she didn't have an obligation as a shinobi to keep him safe.

Ami had come back from that realization a few weeks after they'd been married.

Setting the box of tea in its place in the cabinet, Ami's hand hung in the air as she felt herself embraced from behind—a rare display of affection from her husband, especially considering they were sharing the house with his family at the moment.

"I love you." The words were whispered in her ear softly—as if he was afraid what would happen if he said something so precious so loudly. He'd become much more comfortable with the concept of love over the years, but that certainly did not make him believe that the words were any less special. Anything less than some of the most important words you could say to someone.

His hold on her tightening just a bit, drawing her closer as his hands closed—holding tightly to the fistfuls of her shirt.

He knew her. He knew when she was nervous. He knew when she was upset. He knew when she was doubting. Learning her body language, the way she held herself the infliction of her tone and what it meant was what had made them such a potent team. It was what had made it so easy to trust her when he became Kazekage and she became his official bodyguard.

Gaara could read her, even if she wasn't using any words.

Still not one hundred percent certain what was bothering her—though he had a fair guess. The dead coming back to life, especially those that he had killed undoubtedly made her more anxious as well—they had the same effect on him. Though, there seemed to be more guilt he was feeling day by day, seeing this strain put on his village, seeing quite literally the ghosts of his past.

"Tell me what's wrong, please."

A lump stuck in her throat, Ami found herself struggling to piece the words together in a way that would make sense. In a way that would be logical. In a way that she could actually describe as opposed to just think and feel. "I'm afraid I won't be able to keep you safe."

Certainly not all that was bothering her, not even the thing that was bothering her the most, but it was all that she could force past her lips. Gaara pressed a kiss to the back of her ear, "I will be alright. I've been through worse than this, we both have." There was a gut feeling that there was more than this—Ami was always worried about his safety, but it didn't typically affect her this much.

If she didn't wish to speak about more, if she wanted to leave it at that he wouldn't force her to speak.

"I know. Thank you Gaara, I know." A weak smile given to her husband as she broke away from his hold on her waist, turning around so she could place a kiss to his cheek, Ami fetching herself a glass of water, the festering feeling of dread in her chest only getting worse as the time went on.

Hairs on the back of her neck standing up on edge once more, Ami glanced out of the kitchen window only to see night falling on the small greenhouse outside their home instead of the demon she'd been expecting.

Lips pursed in a thin line, Ami continued to stare out of the window—looking closely into the twilight. No comment as Gaara walked out of the kitchen, undoubtedly going to check up on his family. Speaking to him about an unfounded worry like this would only cause more trouble for them. There were so many real dangers present at the moment, to introduce the possibility of one more would be more harm than good.

Still, the blonde set the glass in the sink and walked upstairs to the small study where her texts on demons had rested untouched for so many years.

Perhaps brushing up on her knowledge of the beasts would do a bit to calm her fears.