-Chapter Nine-

Gaara sat on the roof long after Hinata had left. On the outside he looked calm, emotionless, nothing was out of order. But on the inside he was nothing short of utter turmoil. Why had she touched him like that? Why had his protective barriers let her touch him so intrusively. He barely knew her and tried to keep his guard up, but even subconsciously, he knew there was nothing threatening about her. If anything she was kind, sometimes unsure of herself, but that quality was almost….what? Endearing? Gaara scoffed, he didn't find things endearing, people couldn't be endearing. At least not for long because inevitably, they were going to, at some point, turn and stab you in the back. Gaara didn't find that aspect of human relationships very endearing.

Finally deciding that he was hungry enough to eat, Gaara slipped off of the roof onto the balcony in front of his room and went down the hall through the living room to get to the kitchen on the other side. As he passed by the couch, a hand shout out and touched his thigh. (There were very few times the young Kazekage had screamed in his life and had he had any less composure, he sure as hell would have shrieked like a little girl then and there.) He jumped, visibly hopping back about a foot, and turned to look at what had breached his personal space.

A pale hand stretched out over the arm of the couch, hanging limply against the side. Cautiously, Gaara stepped over to the side, his suspicions confirmed when he saw the Hyuuga Heiress, tossing and turning in the throws of a fitful sleep. Gaara watched her for a moment, noticing the slight rise and fall of her chest as she leaned back against the plush pillows of the couch. He could tell by her breathing she wasn't very deep into sleep, she probably wouldn't be for the rest of the night. As comfortable as that couch was, it was a couch, not a bed, and it probably wasn't the most comfortable thing to sleep on.

Deciding that he wasn't quite ready for another awkward encounter with the strange girl sleeping on his couch, the Kazekage turned away and proceeded into the kitchen before she had a chance to wake up and see him watching her. He doubted that help their tense situation any, not only was her future husband reclusive and anti-social, but he also had stalker-like tendencies. (Yay!) That was definitely something to tell the in-laws.

Gaara tried to stop thinking about the whole thing before he could let it get ahead of himself. With this whole new arrangement, he felt so tied down. Sure, he'd wanted to start connecting with humans on a friendly level, trying to get the people he watched over and protected so diligently to think he was something other than a cold-blooded murderer. But Gaara was slow to trust, and when it came to him, other were the same way, progress was going to be slow and take years, but eventually, he was determined to have people see him for who he truly was. But bettering his human relationships didn't really mean get married. Possibly, he thought, that when he was older someone could learn to love him, and maybe he could love them in return. But now, glancing back at the woman in his living room, realization hit him like a brick: Gaara was unlovable.

Why else would the council have set up an arrangement like this? To keep war from breaking out? Not necessarily, they could have married off any number of warlord's sons and that would have done just as well to keep the peace, Suna warlords were an intimidating people, to cross them would be like a curse settling upon your family. No, the reason they set up an arranged marriage was because from the day he was born and Shukaku placed into his body, they knew no one would be able to love him. That's why they called in a girl from another country, someone who knew very little about him and was loyal to her clan, shy and willing to do anything to preserve the peace. She had no will of her own, no choice in the matter, and that was the only type of affection Gaara was ever going to become acquainted with in his life, forced, unfeeling, and fake.

Gaara stopped, halfway through opening the fridge and let the door fall away from his grip, suddenly he wasn't so hungry. He stood up straight and closed his eyes to compose himself, running his fingers through his short, vermillion hair, trying to pull it together before his did something stupid. When was the last time the Kazekage had allowed himself to cry? To feel pity for himself? He honestly couldn't have answered that question even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself be weak.

He walked back into the living room, Hinata had rolled onto her stomach, one leg hanging off the couch, both arms out in front of her, she still looked extremely uncomfortable. She'd probably have been better off just sleeping on the floor. Slowly Gaara approached her, reaching out and tapping her lightly on the shoulder, "Hey." He whispered, "Hinata, wake up."

He paused. Hinata. He allowed his mind to register the fact that he'd allowed himself to say her name. Out loud at that, in her presence. Would she be offended? Though surely he had the right to address her as such, he out-ranked her by a long shot. By why did it feel like it was doing something he shouldn't? Like her name was something more than just what people called her. Like he needed permission to address her in such as casual way because her name meant that much.

She stirred lightly in her sleep, turning over onto her back , her eyes fluttering open. She looked up, eyes groggy, though instantly shooting up and alert at the sight of the Kazekage, "Yes Kazekage-sama?" She asked politely.

Gaara froze, why had he woken her up in the first place? He grappled his mind for the reason which had left him as soon as it came, leaving him struggling for a good answer, "This couch is going to give you a bad back if you sleep on it…" He said quietly. (Thank you captain obvious!)

Hinata smiled and shook her head, "No, I'm fine Kazekage-sama. You've been so kind to me, allowing me to stay here and adapt, you've even allowed me to paint and make renovations to the room I've been given, the least I could do is not complain about my temporary sleeping conditions."

Gaara motioned for her to get up, he really didn't know why he was being so forward with her all of a sudden, "Its no trouble, we actually have an unused bed in the house that I was going to offer you. You'd be much more rested for tomorrow when you have to come to my office and fill out all of the paper work, that's best done with a clear head." Gaara rambled, thinking up a logical excuse.

"Oh," Hinata looked pensive, "Well okay, if you're sure Kazekage-sama, I'd love to sleep in a bed tonight, the couch is a bit…stiff," She stopped when she realized that she was complaining, "But it's a lovely couch when you're not sleeping on it."

Gaara resisted the urge to smile. (A believe me when I say there was a lot of resistance to keep our loveable insomniac's face stoic.) This woman had seen some of the worst things the world had to offer. She was a ninja, even if he didn't know her that well he knew as well as anyone that shinobi experience the death of comrades, of charges, and people in general. it's a tough life, one that doesn't come without burden. Though Gaara could tell that even through all of the negative things the Hyuuga Heiress had seen, she'd seen some of the beautiful things too and that allowed her to keep her outlook positive, even in some of the worst situations. Gaara admired her for that.

Slowly she stood up and stretched, joints cracking in protest to her movements and the possibility of having to go back to sleeping on the couch.

Gaara turned and started walking down the hallway, Hinata hadn't realized he left and had to jog to catch up to him, "Where's the room?" She asked quietly, "No too far out on one of the wings I hope, I'd hate to make you walk all over the house just so I could have a comfortable place to sleep…"

Gaara shook his head, "No, it's a short walk, near your room." Came his flat reply.

"Oh…ok."

Gaara opened the door to the room and gestured for her to enter, not going in himself, "You can sleep here tonight, no one really uses this room so it won't matter if you stay in here tonight."

"Thank you Kazekage-sama." Hinata replied with a smile and a bow.

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, face completely devoid of emotion, "Don't worry about it. The room hasn't been slept in for years, no one's going to mind."

"As long as you're sure…"

Gaara nodded, turning and walked back down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Hinata watched him leave, waiting until he'd completely disappeared down the stairs before turning and walking into the room Gaara had shown her.

The room consisted of a beige carpet with maroon walls and black trim and curtains. The bed frame was black and the bed was maroon and beige. Along the wall was two black doors, one probably lead to a closet and the other to a bathroom, accompanying them were two dressers and a mirror.

She walked around the perimeter of the room, knowing it was rude to be nosy but not being able to help herself. There were no pictures on the walls and the room smelled clean, almost new, as if to stress how little it'd been used over the years. She opened the first black door and almost jumped. She'd half expected to find a closet, instead there was a full bathroom, complete with a shower and tub. Quietly she closed the door and went over to the other one, gasping when she finally managed to get it open.

There, hanging on a hook on the door to the closet was the Kazekage's robe. Across from that, on hangers along the back wall of the closet, the clothing consisted mainly of blacks and reds. Hinata had no doubt in her mind whose room this was now. She almost didn't believe it.

The Kazekage had allowed her to sleep in his room? Where was he going to sleep? Then she remembered him saying something about how the room was never used. Did he sleep somewhere else? Did he not sleep at all? Hinata had heard roomers, many roomers, about the mannerisms of the Kazekage, of his violent history as a cold-blooded murderer, that he was an insomniac, even some that were clearly false, even if you've never met him. He was an intimidating person, it was easy to see how he could make people cautious, but scary enough to make people think so terribly of him? To accept him as their leader but not allow him to put the past behind him?

Hinata thought the whole situation was hypocritical. But she wasn't originally of the Sand and it wasn't her business to get tangled up in politics. Not yet at least, she'd barely been in the house a week, she wasn't about to start a village-wide conflict because she didn't feel as though some of the people here weren't treating their leading with the kind of respect her deserved.

Though maybe he does deserve it…

Hinata instantly regretted thinking such mutinous thoughts. The Kazekage had been kind enough to allow her to live in his home and even gave her his bed when she had no place to sleep other than a stiff, rather uncomfortable couch. When she looked at the Kazekage, she didn't see a tyrannical killer or a violent person. Yes, she was extremely intimidated by him. But when she just stood back and looked at him, he looked like a lonely teenager who wants nothing more than to be accepted. Maybe even loved…

Hinata walked over to the bed and pulled back the covers, slipping inside and laying down on the pillow, a strange jolt of nervousness spiking through her stomach. She knew she was going to be alone tonight, and knew she was going to be alone in the morning when she woke up, but soft cotton of the sheets set fire to her skin in a way she couldn't really describe, something she'd never really felt before. And the feeling stayed with her long after she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.