Author's Note (2020/06/08): Hey everyone - I'm going to be posting two chapters this week to move things along fic-wise. I want to move on to other things both writing-wise and time-wise (I am a notorious multi-tasker so I have a lot on my plate right now). I'm going to try to post chapters for this story twice a week (every Monday and Thursday) until it's finished. The final chapter (or epilogue) will be posted by itself at the end of the month.
As always, thank you for reading and for your feedback xx
Chapter 68
Love
It was not long after the sands swallowed Koga of the Wastes when the forces from Ishigakure finally arrived…
Detaining every surviving member of Tenbu, the shinobi from the Land of Claws returned to their homeland with the scant amount of mercenaries and missing-nin under custody. The gleaming of their black-plated armor turned dull and their emblems were stripped from the metal with their helms thrown away. A lifetime of imprisonment within the dungeons of Ishi seemed fitting. Judgement would be swift, for their crimes extended into the reach of four countries – Claw, Mountain, Wind, and Fire each sought to see the matter settled as quietly and diplomatically as possible. The lands were left in shambles, the battle of the mines forming a scar upon the blackened earth of twisting wastes and death. It appeared as if one of the tailed-beasts ran amok in times of old.
The heart of Sunagakure was silent that afternoon.
In the shadows of the great manse of the past and present Kazekage, the cracks and exposed beams from the attack were still visible from below as if its face were torn clean off from one side. Still, it stood strong against the heat and merciless desert winds that passed it by – although the winds now howled within its sprawling chambers when night fell. The square was absent with life, not a soul or stray dog dared to wander near.
The funeral service proceeded with a dirge.
Sand Priests weaved their way to the front of the memorial with their chants and incense, the colours of their red and gold garbs the only life within a still sea of black and sorrow. The dead were near twenty in count, their names carved onto the headstones that stood before their clay coffins for burial. From shinobi of genin-rank to shinobi bearing the ranks and titles of the Suna ANBU, the etching of their names stood out for all to see. Sohei and the other slain tracker-nin from the mission had their bodies recovered, but Commander Moro was forever lost amongst the ashes that he painted across the forested lands in his final act as a shinobi of Suna. His grave would be marked by a headstone regardless, his titles etched onto the stone that bore his living name. Further amongst their headstones was the one belonging to Shinto. The kanji of his name was etched into the clay stone, the Sunagakure emblem carved underneath.
His name meant "way of the gods" - perhaps he was with them now in the Pure Land.
Rain never graced the desert lands in centuries, but as Nomasaki stood before his closed coffin and headstone her heart prayed for the rains to return. She could hear the faint sobbing of Meiyumi at her back, her choked back sobs striking her heart strings. Kankuro stood still at the medic's side, offering a glance of empathy while the visiting Konohagakure shinobi looked on nearby. It was the second Sunagakure funeral that was graced by the presence of the foreigners, their colored garbs standing out against the black mourning clothes of the villagers. Beside Nomasaki during the service was Gaara, standing as still and as silent as the statue he appeared to be. As Kazekage, it was his duty to give the opening eulogy. As if stone, he wore his stoic expression with eyes marked in emotional fatigue while he spoke in front of the hundreds of shinobi who came to the service. He had to do the same with the funeral for Elder Chiyo after her sacrifice those four years ago, but standing straight-faced that silent day before the shattered husk of the Kazekage's estate was by far the most difficult goodbye he had done in ages. When he was finished, the Sand Priests returned and said the closing chants.
As he looked to Nomasaki beside him, he saw her blank and drained eyes watching the priests somberly. She appeared as if a ghost, all the life and vibrance gone from her face and mired with a deep and painful loss. Not a word was spoken from her that day, not since returning from the Land of Claws. They spent the night separately due to his injuries, his bed being at the hospital the previous night. Before she could fall asleep at his bedside, she agreed to stay with Meiyumi at her home towards the far east of the village. Taking refuge at their home was a far-off hope. Their home in the great manse was under repair by the village artisans and carpenters until further notice, the bulk of it destroyed by the blast that claimed the lives of many guards – and Shinto, inevitably. Even though Tenbu would never raise as a threat to them or Sunagakure ever again, returning to the normal life they had together would not be an easy path. From the dulled sheen to her purple eyes, he could see the sorrow within them. She lost comrades, friends, and a leader.
A shinobi must not show emotion.
A shinobi must never show weakness.
Standing silently beside him, she somberly listened to the final chants of the priests amongst the crowd of black garbs. Her eyes glistened in the fading desert sun, but she refused to let the tears grace her face. It would be an insult to their memory, she convinced herself, Stay strong. Between them, the sand guided their hands together. From her clasping his hand lightly, he could feel a small tremor through her fingers.
Mourning in silence, she stayed strong – for them all.
"Are you sure you have to leave so soon?" Gaara asked. "It's a long way back to Konohagakure and the Land of Fire from here. We can provide you all hospitality."
With a light smile, Naruto gave a nod. "Thanks, but we better get going. Kakashi-sensei is waiting for us to report back from the mission."
Understanding, Gaara took in the words. He was grateful for their presence – albeit a near complete surprise. Having them arrive when they did was a fortune. If not, resolving the mess left behind from the battle in the wastes would have taken days. Still, the extra company they provided was needed. After the burial of their fallen, everything around them seemed as if hollowed. Empty. Seated at his desk, the Kazekage's office was one of the only rooms in the great manse to emerge from the Tenbu attack unscathed. Behind him, Kankuro stood and listened, watching the Konoha shinobi with calmed eyes of gratitude.
Narrowing his slightly, Gaara remembered what he wanted to ask. "And Sasuke?"
"…He said he had to return to his assignment." Sakura said, her green eyes somber. "He's probably halfway to the Land of Earth by now."
Gone.
Just as he thought.
"In case you see him before I do, give him my thanks." Gaara nodded, a light smile on his lips. "Without him, the outcome in the wastes could have been much grimmer. He helped saved the surviving Kumatsume clansmen that were rescued, so we owe him one."
Sakura nodded back, relieved. "I'll be sure to pass along your message."
"Speaking of which," Shikamaru entered, his eyes guarded. "It was the heiress of the Hoki Family who informed Hokage-sama of what happened. Hakuto-sama and Shijima-sama told us of what transpired at the family's compound. The hawk from Suna received arrived shortly before we departed, to tell you the truth."
Kankuro looked to Gaara in surprise. "How would they have known?"
"She said they encountered a man named Moro and his tracker-nin." Shikamaru spoke. "They mentioned Nomasaki-sama by name, so I'm guessing it was before she was taken captive by Koga and that Tenbu organization."
Gaara nodded, his saddened eyes wandering to the surface of his desk. "I see."
"In any case, we should get going." Temari said, eyeing her younger brothers. "It's a three-day journey to Konoha from here, and it's the dry season. We don't want to be caught in a sandstorm on the way back."
"Take care," Gaara said, feigning a light smile. "Best travels to all of you."
"Until next time, Gaara." Naruto nodded, his smile solemn.
After the door closed behind them, he glanced down at this lap. Breathing easy, the wound in his abdomen pained only slightly. The dressing over the gash was still fresh from healing, heaving lightly with each breath from his lungs. Under his black funeral garbs, his mortality lay hidden from others but his ribs ached from each step. Thoughts eased through his exhausted mind, the day's events seeming as if a strange blur.
"Kankuro," He spoke, turning towards him from his seat. "Have you seen Nomasaki?"
"Not since the funeral, but she can't be too far." Curious, he raised a brow. "Why?"
Averting his eyes, the Kazekage eased back into his seat. "It's nothing, it's just…" Glancing towards the window at his right, he came to terms. "I need to speak with her, that's all."
Under the departing desert sun, the skies soon turned a rich orange.
Seated on a stone bench beyond the lively streets below, Nomasaki sat and watched the world before her. The village was alive with the sounds of summer, but inside she felt dead and the cry for winter in her bones. The wind passed her by lightly, flowing her long golden strands as her eyes plead for the pain still felt in her heart to stop. Solitude was her crutch, hiding out her pain where no one else would see. She was one of the first to leave during the burial. She decided she had seen enough. For hours she watched the village from above the hill of sands and scattered desert scrubs, the odd flowering cactus giving her some form of comfort. She only wanted sleep to arrive, hoping that everything was just a horrible dream with the hope that tomorrow would be different.
The winds picked up, swaying her hair against her drained face.
Sensing his chakra appear from his sands did nothing to draw her attention. Unmoving her melancholic gaze from the streets painted by the growing sunset, Gaara sat beside her on the stone-carved bench. Eyeing her in a glance tinged with empathy, he waited for her to say something.
"Shinto told me once… that he wanted to see the ocean…"
Looking down at the black lap of her skirt, she hesitated to get the words out from her throat. Her voice was calm and quiet, but the sobs she withheld still lingered beneath. The pain was a silent essence wedged between them. Only the soft winds seemed to bring some form of ease.
"He said he wanted to see what it was, what it looked like…" She said, quietly. "It was then that I realized I never seen the ocean either. I only knew the mountains of the north and the sands of the south. I told him… I would join him, so we could both see it for ourselves one day. I guess that seems impossible now…"
Following her gaze, he watched the streets as well. "I didn't realize."
"Gaara,"
"Hm?"
"Can you… take me to see the ocean someday?" She asked, quietly. "I… want to see it with my own eyes – and for him, too…"
"Yes." He nodded, in understanding. "We can."
"Thank you, Gaara… It means a lot…" A faint laugh escaped her lips momentarily, the sobs hidden below rising through the cracks of her silent voice. "He loved me, you know. He told me… on the last day I seen him alive. He said he did all this time… and I only thought of him as a friend – and now… he's gone…"
"…I knew."
Turning to him, her dulled violet eyes widened. "You did -?"
Looking down at the sands, he gave a subtle nod from his messy hair of crimson. "Before he died,"
Rising his head to meet her eyes, he felt the painful memory resurface. His confession, the red that painted his flak jacket, and his dying smile. All tore him inside to remember. He felt his chest grow heavy with the burden, his ringed-eyes tinged with her shared grief and upmost sympathy.
"Shinto risked his life not only for the good of the village – but for you, too. He really loved you, Nomasaki… I could tell. He was a man of his word."
Gazing back towards the streets coated in sunset, she breathed easy in her sorrow while his eyes followed towards her view of the desert village below. "Everything feels like such a blur to me… The failed mission, my tracking unit, Tenbu, his death - everything…" Looking down to her lap, the tears returned to her eyes. "I feel almost guilty for feeling so happy with you where I know Shinto will never be happy again. It feels as if whenever things are peaceful, something horrible happens and I… -," Wiping the silent tears from her cheeks, she gave a humored sigh. "Sorry. It's… been difficult for me to process."
"It's alright, I understand." Turning to her, he gave her a pleading glance. "…but Shinto would want you to be happy, Nomasaki."
"I know, it's just… -,"
She felt her words come to an end.
Her head hung low, she hid her drained expression by the cover of her long gold, the winds silencing around them. A quiet sigh escaped her lips, tired of the emotional toll of living and wanting for the pain to end. Seeing her the way she was pained him just as equally, his heart wanting nothing more than to remedy what plagued her. He never seen her eyes so dull, the lilac appearing as if wilted.
"How can I be happy?" Her voice lamented. "My heart is broken…"
Warmth graced her.
Startling her, Gaara took her hand in his. Guiding her softly, he placed her palm over his chest as he looked into her wide eyes in stern devotion. His hands felt comforting and warm over her touch, her fingers sensing the fabric of his funeral garbs and his beating heart. His heart. Striking her, she met his eyes with a glance of glistening silence.
"Do you feel that?" He said, clasping her hand gingerly. "It's beating. Flesh, blood – alive." Slowly, he moved her hand over her own chest, resting it gently upon her. She could sense her own heartbeat beneath her palm, fluttering as she felt his fingers over hers. Alive – just as he said. "You feel it, don't you? Your heart… It's beating, too."
The slow release of his hands from her left a cold between them, the winds at their backs returning. Feeling her fragile heart sound lightly through her fingertips, she listened carefully. With his eyes firm, he watched her beside him.
"Life is for the living – and you're alive, Nomasaki – because of his sacrifice and because you believe in yourself."
Averting his glance towards the sands, he held his head down in remembrance of the words of his late beloved uncle. Yashamaru. He was a child back then, he remembered, a child who knew nothing of what would later befall him as a hated and feared jinchuriki. A monster. The memory of his uncle's wound upon his finger struck his recollections, his caring eyes of deep violet looking down at him as he said the words…
"Love is… the unconditional care and devotion you feel for the precious ones around you," Yashamaru said to him that day, "What's troublesome are wounds to the heart… and sometimes they never heal…"
Remembering the rest, Gaara placed his hand over hers on the bench, grasping it gently. Looking into her glistening eyes as the sky turned to a deepening orange, he felt his chest swell with warmth. Smiling gently, he gave a sincere and loving glance from his ringed tanuki eyes.
"The only cure for a broken heart is the love from another… and I love you, Nomasaki. I'm here for you… always."
With teary loving eyes, she felt her lips form a soft smile upon her face. Nodding once, she felt the warmth return and the weight of her sorrow finally left her at peace. A man of few words, she recalled, but he knew the right words. "Gaara," She spoke, heartfelt and eyes glistening. "I love you more than anything... Thank you."
Catching her by surprise, she saw a thin and gentle stream of sands swirl together in his open palm. When they solidified, she saw the sands take the shape of a rose. It appeared as if one of the roses she saw within the gardens of the Kazekage's estate with nearly every fine detail etched by the grains.
Hesitating at first, she took it from his held-out palm. She could not help but smile as she examined its detail and likeness. A desert rose. "It's so pretty," She awed. "How did you -?"
"I practiced making them a few years ago, after the war ended… for you." He smiled to himself, looking back towards the village. "I… planned on giving you one, but… the timing seemed to always be against me."
A quiet laugh escaped her lips as the tears began to flow from her eyes again. Rising to meet her, she wiped them away from her cheeks with her fingertips. "I'm sorry, Gaara." She smiled, painstakingly. "I can't stop them! Really, I'm trying…" Glancing down at the lap of her skirt, she smiled softly to herself in her thoughts. "The timing was never perfect for us… When you first found me, the war, falling in love… Time seemed to always be against us no matter what." Lifting her gaze towards the sunset-ridden streets of the village, she felt the wind pass by them, soothingly. "We are shinobi. Time is never on our side. Isn't that what we're taught? Although…-," Glancing at the desert rose she held close, she felt her heart warm. "…For once, it seems that the timing is changing to our side."
The winds passed them by again, swaying crimson and gold in its path.
"I have to ask… Did you… really mean what you said – when we were in the wastes? About… being engaged?"
He nodded. "Every word."
As she turned to meet his face, her heart fluttered within her chest. From the protective and loving sheen to his turquoise eyes, she could tell he meant his word after all. Betrothed. A faint sheen of warmth flushed to her cheeks, prompting her to avert her gaze.
"I see," She nodded, smiling warmly. "So that means… I will one day be your wife."
A light smile formed on his lips. "I'll have to tell the council tomorrow, and we have to get the blessings from the Sand Priests at their temple… It's bothersome, but it's tradition in these lands." He turned to her, meeting her vibrant purple eyes that he loved. "We'll be joining clans. You'll be joining my clan – of the Kazekage."
"That's right," She nodded with a smile. "That means you're also joining my clan, the Yamamori. There's... something I want to tell you as well,"
"What's that?"
Smiling, she eyed his curious expression warmly. "I'm keeping my clan name. I may be joining your clan, but I will always be a Yamamori at heart. 'A wolf has their pride', as they say… and I'm not abandoning mine until the grave."
With a sigh, a smirk passed his lips. "You drive a hard bargain."
"Bargain?" She mused. "Just wait until my father issues the dowry."
His eyes grew stunned, taken aback. "What dowry -?"
A chuckle escaped her as she seen his surprised expression, a playful nature sneaking through her smile. For a brief glimpse, her canines poked through her laughing. "Don't worry, I'm only kidding! What do you take me for, Kazekage-sama? A piece of property?"
"My wife." He said, his eyes unwavering from hers.
She paused.
Blushing from his words, she looked back down towards the flower she held on her lap. Wife. The sound of the word coming from him was strange yet comforting to her all at once. "Yes," She said. "But jokes aside, we still need to tell my father. We'll need his blessing, too, so how about once we -?"
Catching her attention, she heard the rustling of his clothes as he stood. Before she had the chance to ask what he was doing, she witnessed him kneel before her on the sand-ridden ground. She felt as if her heart stopped in that moment. Holding her hand gingerly in his, a faint aura of sand flowed between them. Swallowing his pride and nervousness, he gazed into her stunned lilac eyes with a protective and devoted sheen. His heart was held on his sleeve, exposed for her to take for all it was.
"Nomasaki of the Yamamori clan," He began, his voice steady. "As the Fifth Kazekage… I'm asking you to be my wife."
Feeling her tears begin to form and swell, she closed her glistening eyes and held her head down. Holding his hand softly in return, her touch surprised him slightly. As she silently sobbed while the tears streamed down her cheeks, she nodded twice.
"Gaara the Fifth Kazekage," She sobbed, quietly, remembering the words of the exchange. "As a Yamamori clansman, I accept…!" Opening her eyes, she met his unwavering gaze of adoration and devotion, her eyes exerting the same to him. Gently, she placed her palm on the side of his face. As her tears fell from her eyes of lilac, she warmly smiled. "I will accept you as my husband."
Under the fading desert sun, their lips met as they embraced in each other's arms. Her heart fluttered as if back to life, overjoyed with what she felt in that moment. Unlike the last time, her lips did not taste like iron. Everything was in its right place – the timing finally on their side. When they parted, he gingerly wiped away the last of her tears from her closed eyes as he cradled her blushing and smiling face in his palms.
"I'm sorry, Gaara," She smiled, warmly. "I've always been a crier… but they're happy tears, I promise…"
Touching his forehead against hers in embrace, he smiled from the heart. "It's alright," He said, closing his eyes. "I know…"
Never before had their hearts felt fuller. Lost in their comforting embrace, they forgot about the world around them and all that plagued it. Softly, the sands circled her finger, forming into a band of hardened minerals. A ring of the desert, the grains within it shining from the dimming sun above them. It put even the beauty of the rose to shame. Promising themselves to each other that day until their last, the desert village would come to play host to an unexpected wedding that arriving late summer.
It was to be a wedding between a tanuki and a wolf.