AN: Hopefully everyone read book 1: Chasing the Wind, because while with the timing, some of this story might stand on its own, there are a lot of references to book one, and I don't really stop to go into everyone's backstory over and over again. Full disclosure, I've been fighting with myself on whether I should post this today or not, because next Thursday, I go on vacation. And the Thursday after that, I am traveling to my sister's for a couple days, so I can't post either of those days. And while I wanted a breather between the books, 3 weeks was going to be too much of a breather. I wanted the first two chapters at least out there.

And don't worry. I will be writing on vacation. Just my internet will be limited. It is what it is. I am currently almost done with chapter 5. So, hopefully with a two-week break, I'll be a lot further along. I feel like after Chapter 5, things are going to start rolling out like last time. Anyway, enjoy!

FFN NOTE: So, since I can't fit it in my summary, this story is 15 chapters total. And because I can't warn or tag here like I can there, there are some references to rape in this story, or nonconsensual sex, and sexual harassment. Just fair warning, it's here.

Chapter 1

Gaara sat in his family's living room making sand figures for his mother who praised his skill at each evolution while his sister excitedly urged him to show off more figures, each one more challenging than before. His brother was in the corner practicing attaching his chakra strings to his artist marionette.

"Hey, Gaara," his father called as he walked into the living room, his gaze shining with pride at his youngest son. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," Gaara chirped back at him.

"The Daimyo brought his daughter this time. She's your age. Can you and your friend let her play with you today?" his father asked.

"Alright," Gaara cheered.

The Daimyo, Hiroto, stepped out of the hallway with his daughter standing next to him dressed in a white dress with a red belt and black leggings. Her hair was ashy blond, reminding Gaara of wet oasis sand, not just with its color, but its healthy shine. "Thank you," the Daimyo, Lord Hiroto, said. "Your father and I have a lot to discuss."

Rasa leaned down to his son, and said, "Treat her nicely, and don't go wandering too far."

"Alright, father," Gaara said obediently.

The princess stepped forward as their fathers walked off and gave a slight bow, saying, "My name's Emika."

Gaara bowed back, and replied, "I'm Gaara."

As he straightened, Yashamaru came in, saying, "Lord Gaara, your friend's here."

Gaara beamed excitedly as he heard Naruto's voice chiming down the front hall. "Hey Gaara! Come on! Let's play!"

Gaara turned to Emika with a broad smile and said, "Let's go!" Emika ran with him outside, and he introduced Naruto to Emika.

"What's she doing here?" Naruto asked.

Gaara frowned, having not thought to ask about it. He turned to Emika and asked, "Why did your father bring you this time?"

Emika looked at him curiously, "They didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Gaara asked.

"That the matchmaker said we were soulmates," she giggled with a little blush.

"Soulmates?" Gaara asked surprised.

"You mean like the ewy-gooey fairytale stuff?" Naruto asked, wrinkling his nose.

She nodded. "Because I'm the princess, my parents have been trying to arrange a marriage for me, and worked with the matchmaker who knows everyone's soulmate. She said Gaara was mine," she stated matter-of-factly. "So, Papa is discussing with the Kazekage about us getting married when we're old enough."

"Married!?" Naruto shrieked. "Yuck!"

"It's not yucky!" Emika huffed offendedly, stomping her foot and putting her hands on her hips. "It's romantic!" Naruto did not look convinced as he wrinkled his nose at her. She crossed her arms and grumbled, "I thought we were going to play a game."

"Yeah!" Naruto cheered, distracted from the previous topic. "Hide and seek, right?"

"Yeah," both Gaara and Emika cheered back.

Emika grabbed three sticks and held them out, and Naruto and Gaara picked theirs. Emika's and Gaara's were roughly the same size while Naruto held up a short stick and pouted. He let out a sigh, then said, "Alright. I'll start counting."

As Naruto started to count, Emika grabbed Gaara's hand and dragged him off to the bushes. Gaara noticed their hands tingled where they touched. Emika chuckled as they crouched together in the bushes. Gaara couldn't take his eyes off her as his heart pounded. Was she really his soulmate? He'd heard his parents say they were soulmates. The person built perfectly to fit them. Gaara had heard of the matchmaker before, although some people thought she was a legend. Maybe she wasn't.

As if sensing his staring, Emika turned to him and whispered, "What?"

"Are you really my soulmate?" he asked.

Emika pursed her lips as if holding back a smile, then said, "There's only one way to find out."

"What?" he asked eagerly.

She leaned over and pressed her lips to his. His heart thrummed hard at the contact and his face warmed. Instinctually, he breathed her in, and let his tongue touch hers. Electricity zinged through his body, settling in his navel as he felt her lick him back. When he pulled away, Emika was fully grown, wearing a wedding dress and veil with a pearl and diamond diadem. He looked down, and saw himself dressed in a suit, and he was holding her hands. "May I present Prince Gaara and Princess Emika as husband and wife."

Emika looped her arm with his, smiling excitedly up at him as they made their way to the edge of the gardens where his friends and family were cheering. His gaze went back to Emika, and her smile like gravity pulled him in, and he kissed her again. She was his soulmate. As he pulled away again, he saw her holding an infant girl who looked just like her and held onto his finger. Emika looked back up at him with a happy, tired smile. He leaned down and kissed her again, and when he pulled away, they were holding hands as their daughter ran through the Oasis Gardens looking at all the cacti, as they laughed. She had her mother's face, and her mother's oasis sand hair, but his seafoam blue eyes, wide with wonder.

"Daddy, Daddy! Look!" she called, pointing at a blooming prickly pear.

His heart soared, and his smile was bright. This was perfect.

Emika tugged him back to her and kissed him, and then they were back in the bush, waiting for Naruto to find them. Gaara blushed as Emika smiled. "Yup. We're soulmates," she declared, holding his hand tightly. He smiled broadly at her, knowing he probably looked a little goofy, but she smiled just as brightly back, and it was like seeing the sun rise. Beautifully radiant.

He knew soulmates meant he was her perfect puzzle piece. Someone who connected with another in every way possible to the point they belonged together. He belonged to somebody. It wasn't just that he was needed, but that there was someone whom he was a part of. The thought warmed his heart, and made him feel both weightless and grounded at the same time. He wanted that future so much.

There was a loud knocking on the door, which stirred him from his reverie. He blinked hard as his hand landed on the paperwork in front of him. He looked at the clock on the far wall, seeing it read 3:30 and realized he'd dozed off, daydreaming about his dream from the Infinite Tsukuyomi. He rubbed his brow hard, cleaning the dust out of his eyes. That was one thing no one warned him about the position of Kazekage. If he didn't have a constant tea in hand, when 3:00 pm rolled around, his brain would just check out for a time. And then he would be behind in paperwork.

He inhaled sharply, trying to get some oxygen in his system to wake him up fully. It had been a while since he'd thought about the Infinite Tsukuyomi. He'd discussed the dreams with his siblings shortly after it happened. He knew Kankuro's was somewhat silly, building a mecha-robot puppet. And Temari's had been that he and Kankuro constantly pestered her for things, needing her opinion on everything. When he'd mentioned his was reliving his childhood happily as a normal child, both of his siblings got bummed out then took him sand sledding. He didn't mention the part about two or three days into his dream world when Emika came over and father arranged for them to be married because they were soulmates. Or that he saw the future of that life with her, and it was wonderful. His siblings tried hard to make him happy. To rectify the heartbreak he'd faced from his father. And Kankuro had done his best to help Gaara get over the princess, since he better knew how deeply Gaara had fallen in love. But Gaara had realized shortly before the war that what happened between him and Emika was a heartbreak that wouldn't heal. A hole that wouldn't close.

He mused it was a residual tanuki characteristics from being Shukaku's host, like the markings around his eyes. While tanuki's were famous tricksters, they also famously fell in love quick and mated for life. And he did fall in love with her quickly. He'd realized it had taken him a day to fall completely in love with her, when she walked out of that bazaar dressed in adventuring gear, and she finally looked comfortable in her skin. The moment he saw the real her, he was in love.

It was either that tanuki trait, or he'd inherited his father's enduringly faithful romantic love. When he was younger, he never understood why his father never remarried. But as he grew up, he realized how deeply his father must have loved his mother. If Gaara's love for Emika was even a fraction of how his father had felt for his mother, it was understandable he'd never loved again.

It was one reason Gaara had dreaded the arranged marriage the Council had set up last August. He had no idea how to explain to a woman about to be his bride that he had fallen in love with a woman he could never have, and that he'd likely never fall in love like that again. He remembered telling himself on the way to the meeting that if he did end up married, he'd try his best. But there was no way he'd be able to reconcile his love of a memory.

Again, someone knocked on the door, and Gaara grumbled out, "Yes?"

"Gaara, you have that meeting at the Academy. Remember?" Kankuro said through the door. "You're going to run late."

Gaara got up quickly, scratching the back of his neck at his forgetfulness. He'd have to run to get there now. It was so unseemly. As he burst through the door, he grumbled, "Thank you, Kankuro."

Kankuro fell in step with him on the way to the elevators and asked, "Have you figured out which programs you need to cut."

Gaara chewed on the inside of his cheek, grumbling, "I have a few to propose." The elevator dinged its arrival as he added, "None of which I want cut completely, though."

Kankuro pursed his lips as they got in the elevator, hitting the lobby button as he huffed, "Goddamn budget cuts."

Gaara could only shake his head and agree.

Two days ago was Gaara's 21st birthday, which meant he had been doing this job now for six and a half years. In that time, Gaara had learned one crucial thing: cutting school budgets was nearly impossible. It cost a lot of money to teach the rising ninja of the village what they needed to know before becoming genin, and with the steady drop in Daimyo funding, the money had to be taken from somewhere. Since the war three years ago, they had a steep drop in funding. Of course when the Daimyo wanted the ninja's protection during the war, promises had been made to pay for everything. But now, three years later, Gaara was still fighting with the Daimyo Regent to pay the bill. Everywhere Gaara tried to negotiate funds from Ginmaru, he was stonewalled.

Half. That was all that had been paid. Half the cost of the war.

Only 1,800 Suna ninja survived the war, when they'd started with 9,600. And only 1,000 of them walked away without permanent injuries, roughly. But almost all of them suffered from PTSD. Gaara still had nightmares of seeing Madara's power unleashed once he "rescinded the contract." Seeing the perfect Susanoo and knowing death was imminent was a nightmare he tried his best to forget.

7,800 casualties meant almost every family lost somebody. Parents had lost teenage chunin, or jonin, and those families needed to be paid for their losses. But worse, many young children lost a parent or both, and those families hadn't been paid their reparations. Many orphans were left in the charge of family friends or grandparents, sometimes even older siblings, with nothing to show for their parents' sacrifice to the world.

And now to cover those costs, Gaara was forced to cutback the school budget. Which was hardly what was needed for a village with a staggering orphan crisis, again thanks to the war. But the money had to come from somewhere.

Telling the school head that staff needed to be cut back a third, after-care needed to be cut, and art classes for younger grades were to be no longer covered in funding was of course met with backlash. Parents and teachers both argued that Gaara needed to get the money from the Daimyo and not take from the children. They didn't see that he'd been calling the Daimyo weekly now petitioning for funds. They didn't see that he'd cut back R&D, active military, and weapons development to skeleton budgets already. They didn't see the school was the last place he was resorting to take money from.

He stayed behind, discussing with the principal how best to bridge the cutbacks, and promising as soon as the Daimyo finished paying what was owed, the programs would be brought back first.

"I won't hold my breath," the principal responded jadedly. "Since when has the Daimyo cared how ninja survive."

Gaara hated to admit he felt very similarly. When Hiroto had died, Gaara hoped things would be easier with Ginmaru as regent. While he wasn't frugal like his brother was, he preferred to spend the money on himself, which was actually more problematic. Everyone had heard of the lavish parties he'd throw regularly in Futen Palace.

As he walked out of the school with his brother, with the last of the parents of the board picking up their kids from the after-care service that was now being cut, he noticed many disparaging glances his way. Kankuro frowned, and muttered, "Like they could convince the Daimyo to give a damn."

Gaara let out a long, tired exhale.

"Aunty Rinri, Aunty Rinri! Look who it is!" a kid cheered from the entrance. "It's Mr. Kage!"

Gaara turned to the school entrance to see a young boy, clearly in the preschool program of the academy, holding the hand of an old familiar face. Gaara smiled, and bowed in greeting as the ex-bodyguard looked at him with trepidation. She gave a small bow back and greeted, "Hello Lord Gaara. Lord Kankuro."

Kankuro smiled the smile of seeing an old compatriot. "Rinri. It's been a while," Kankuro greeted. "Where's your husband?"

"Chie is getting groceries for dinner," Rinri answered. She jostled the boy's hand as she said, "Hira here is growing boy, and eats a lot."

Gaara smiled at him, saying, "I didn't realize he was already in the academy."

Rinri made a face, then coughed, "Yeah. Turned five last year. He started in the fall."

Gaara nodded sadly. Ginmaru had cut Chie and Rinri, like many of Hiroto's old guard, in favor of his own picks almost two and a half years ago, shortly after the war. They'd moved to Suna with their foster son, Hira, with Chie joining the police force, and Rinri working as a librarian and a record keeper in the clerics office.

Gaara didn't get specifics on the boy's parents, although due to the timing, he had to assume they died in war. He would have been one when the war happened, and they came here with him a year later, so it was reasonable. Hira didn't look like either Chie or Rinri. Rinri had black hair and black eyes, while Chie had receding brown hair and amber eyes. Hira had burnt amber or toffee colored hair, and hazel eyes that couldn't decide if they wanted to be brown or olive green depending on the light. He had peachy skin with pale freckling that he'd probably grow out of. For a boy, he had long eyelashes and expressive eyes that shone brightly in the desert sun.

Gaara had seen them around the village several times over the two and a half years they lived here, and always stopped to say hello. He made the mistake once of asking if they were still in contact with their old charge, Princess Emika. Chie had told him they talked to her occasionally, and that she'd been in their wedding. Gaara had wanted to tell them to tell her he said hello, but he kicked the idea aside, realizing the Princess would hardly want to talk to the man who broke her heart.

"Mr. Kage!" Hira said excitedly.

"Lord Kazekage," Rinri corrected.

"No, it's quite alright," Gaara chuckled. In fact, he found Hira's name for him endearing. Several kids around the village who had difficulty saying the title fully called him Mr. Kage.

"Mr. Kage. We learned in class today that you were the youngest kage in history. Is that true!?" he asked excitedly, his eyes lighting up like stars.

Gaara had to think about that. "Youngest Kage, no. I believe Yagura, the Fourth Mizukage was was 13 when he was appointed. But Kazekage, yes. I was appointed at fifteen. My father was twenty-two when he was appointed, and the Third Kazekage was twenty when he was appointed. The Second was thirty-eight, and the First was forty-seven."

"Wow," Hira breathed. "You must be really strong!"

"Well, maybe one day you'll be as strong as me," Gaara offered, hoping to incentivize him.

Hira positively beamed at him. "Really?"

"You'll have to train," Gaara said. "But why not?"

Rinri scoffed, scratching her eyebrow. "Come on, Hira. Lord Kazekage has a lot of work to get back to. And Uncle Chie's waiting."

Hira pouted, then waved. "Bye Mr. Kage!"

Gaara smiled, then turned to his brother. "Come on." He noticed Kankuro looking at the kid oddly. Gaara frowned and asked, "What?"

Kankuro shook his head as if the thought he had didn't matter, and he stepped away, Gaara falling in step with him as they headed back to the tower. Kankuro's odd silence made Gaara uneasy, and he asked again, "What was it?"

Kankuro shrugged oddly. "Something about his brow looked familiar, but I couldn't place it," he answered.

Gaara tilted his head, then said wistfully, "Maybe you fought alongside his father in the war."

Kankuro pursed his lips and nodded. "Possible. It just struck me this time," Kankuro muttered. "Shame he lost his parents."

"It was war," Gaara said sadly. "Hira, like so many other children in Suna, were orphaned in the war. It's why I want to set up a foster system, so they're cared for." Gaara sighed frustratedly. "But convincing Lord Ginmaru to care about something other than himself is near impossible."

Kankuro made a face, then asked, "Why is that?" He looked at his brother as he pointed out, "Before the war, he wasn't generous, but he okayed a lot funding that helped open up the academy to kids like Shira and Lee, and let us open programs like the preschool and after-care. And let us do quite a bit of research. Build the greenhouse. Then a year after the war, he doesn't want to pay for anything anymore? What gives?"

Gaara's jaw stiffened. He knew exactly why the Daimyo Regent was stonewalling him, even though he hadn't told anyone. It was degrading enough to think about. Gaara just shook his head and grumbled, "Ginmaru is a selfish prick. That's all."

Kankuro rolled his eyes as if that were a given. "Did he even pay for the bunkers when the moon was falling?"

"No," Gaara grumbled. In fact, that had come out of Suna's treasury to protect the entire Land of Wind, which is why everything else was being cutback to bare-bones budgets. Honestly, the past two years, Gaara felt more and more like a glorified accountant than a kage with how he had to manage Suna's finances.

Kankuro shook his head. "Serious prick."

The day had been long. The sun had set, and the moon had risen. Gaara and Kankuro had eaten their dinner in relative silence, just enjoying the brotherly company.

Since Temari had married Shikamaru Nara and abandoned her brothers for Konoha's luscious green trees, the penthouse had somewhat lost the female touch. Gaara didn't mind Kankuro working on his puppets at the table. And while Gaara maintained many houseplants, which did give the Penthouse a homey feel, it was in sharp contrast with some things Kankuro would occasionally bring home and Gaara didn't care enough not to tell him to put it on the walls. Like the sign of an old pub that had closed a few years ago. And a board in the kitchen which was styled like a "Live, Laugh, Love" piece, but said, "Eat, Shit, Die" in curly letters. A framed poop joke in the powder bathroom. An artistic version of a cover to a B-rate horror movie that Kankuro claimed was a cult-classic. Stylized empty sake bottles on the kitchen cabinets. Black coasters that said, "Don't fuck up the table."

It had become a bachelor pad, which is what both brothers happily were. Neither had plans to marry and were comfortable with the minimalist décor of half beaten furniture and odd knickknacks.

After dinner, Gaara had settled into his study under the guise of work, but he was caught up for the most part. No. Gaara had other plans that evening that he preferred not disturbed. He turned on his desk lamp, then pulled open the drawer and out the newest magazine he'd bought a week and half ago. On the cover was Emika with her newest fiancé. A man named Ryuki Akarui. Fiance number three. They looked shiny and happy on the surface. Emika wore a glitzy gold sequined dress, and the man wore a black suit with a matching gold tie and pocket square. The title across the bottom said, "Royal Engagement: The Story Behind Ryuki's Rinne Proposal."

Gaara couldn't understand why the man looked familiar to him. According to the article, he was soap opera star for a show called Moonlight Kunai. Gaara was working during it's time slot, so it wasn't that. His dark brown hair was perfectly quaffed, and Gaara wasn't sure if that was the work of the make-up artists or his own careful care. Possibly both. The man also wore light kohl on his lower eyelids, making his blue eyes pop. And perfectly fair skin. Not a blemish or scar on him. He was too pretty. Too well groomed. His lips were pouty for a man. And what kind of grown man had dimples with sharp cheekbones like that? He was too soft.

Gaara decided to focus on Emika, rather than his jealousy fueled scrutiny. He was sure the man was probably nice, though he loathed to admit it.

The last two engagements, Gaara had notice Emika's chocolatey brown eyes had become voids where color and happiness died. But in this photo, Gaara managed to finally see a spark of the Emika he loved. There was glimmer of knowing something others didn't in her eyes. A glint of being in on a prank or a joke. Her eyes were still dark pools where sadness killed color, except they were no longer naïve or empty, but challenging. Like a woman who had lived many lives and was ready to take the world by storm.

His heart ached to see her finally somewhat happy, it looked. He sucked on his teeth as he wished it was him standing next to her in the photo. He opened the magazine to the article and began to read. He did his best to suppress his judgement of how this Ryuki Akarui had proposed to the woman he loved. He'd taken her to a ski lodge in Land of Mountains over Rinne and proposed under the village's large Rinne Tree. How cliché.

He closed the magazine, looking again at Emika sadly, moving his mouth without words as he tried to sort through his mixed feelings. This was her third engagement. The first two tragically never made it to the altar, but she didn't look happy with either of those men either, so Gaara had felt a little relieved by that. From the look in her eyes now, she finally looked as if she found some happiness in this current relationship. He felt the lump forming in his throat as he realized he sincerely wished she finally found a man who loved her as she deserved, and who she loved back.

He opened the cabinet of his bookcase, where he kept his growing stack of magazines of Emika filed away. He shut it, and went to his room where he got dressed for bed, then reached in his nightstand and pulled out the photo he kept. The edges had started to fray a little, so he'd gotten a laminate frame to put it in and preserve it. He always got bittersweet relief seeing this photo and knowing it was his and Emika's moment. It was a memory they would only share together. Sure Kankuro, Temari, Chie, and Rinri had confiscated the cameras, but they most likely had forgotten it. Only he had it preserved in this photo.

His fingers traced over the figure of her body, remembering how soft her skin was. How her nipples perked up under his fingertips. He licked his lips, placing the photo against his heart as he closed his eyes and imagined the life he saw them having in the Infinite Tsukuyomi. It had been a glimpse, and pure fantasy, but it was a beautiful fantasy he'd willingly experience again.

A train arrived in Suna's station at midnight, the last train of the night that was passing through Suna to Tsumi Shi northeast of the ninja village. As the train doors opened, a lone hooded figure got off with only a few tired ninja returning home. Unlike the ninja, the hooded figure carried a few bags at their side. Silently, the figure made its way into the nighttime streets of the sleepy desert village, shunshining to its destination.

The figure stopped in front of a small home on the northern side of town on Futen Boulevard in Suna's second ring, not too far from the Academy, hospital or one of Suna's moderately sized bazaars. Maybe a fifteen-minute run from the Kazekage Tower in the center of town. It was two stories, sitting on a slight incline, as the Northern side of Suna rose to meet the outer wall. With the tower in the center at the lowest part of the basin, it was built tall enough to be seen almost all over Suna. The figure looked at it momentarily before knocking on the house's wooden door.

The lights had been off, but the figure knew this was the house. It knocked again, and a light inside was turned on in the foyer, then the porch light before the door swung open. The figure was met with a familiar face, an old protector who looked at them with confusion.

"Come inside," he whispered, stepping to let the figure in with its baggage.

He quickly shut the door as the figure placed the bags gently on the ground as his wife came downstairs, looking at the scene curiously, and worriedly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

The figure removed its hood revealing a woman with fair features, dark brown eyes with long lashes, and ashy blond hair. She stood straight with a regal posture. She turned to the man, her expression resolute as she said, "I need your help Chie. Yours and Rinri's."

Rinri crossed her arms, coming further down the stairs as she said exasperatedly, "Emika, you're not supposed to be here. You'll put us at risk. Hira …"

"You'll be fine, and nothing will happen to Hira," the princess assured. She licked her lips nervously, then said, "They got Ryuki."

Rinri covered her mouth, shocked by the news. Chie looked at the princess with worried apprehension. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded nervously, then said, "We knew this was a possibility. He and I both agreed on a plan if this did happen. A plan that Uncle and his henchmen won't know about until it's too late, hopefully. And if it goes according to plan, he won't even be looking at you." She licked her lips nervously as she added, "But the window left open to do this is small. That's why I need your help."

Chie and Rinri shared a look, then Chie nodded. "Whatever you need, your highness."

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