It wasn't love; but a cage. Madness couldn't win.


Chapter 5 - Flowers Can't Live Without Water (Or Love)

It was a wedding.

Still mad at Kankuro for not sharing that bit of crucial information with her, Himari inhaled a deep breath to calm her boiling nerves. Fidgeting, she didn't take the time to explore the luxurious room she'd been attributed for the duration of their stay, and she sat on the edge of the four-posted bed. It was a catastrophe. In her mind, the stern councilwoman's face glared at her each time she thought about a potential failure of her role. The Council hadn't thought her fit for the task and they were right, she wasn't. Don't embarrass our Kazekage, the councilwoman had said. Sit still, smile and don't complain.

Except, nobody had said that the 'diplomatic event' was, in fact, a marriage. With a bunch of unknown customs to her. But she wasn't allowed to panic. Himari let herself fall onto the mattress. She already regretted her decision. Gaara hadn't spoke to her since their departure from Suna, as if she didn't even exist. It hurt her more than she cared to admit. Exhausted by the trip, Himari didn't realize she'd closed her eyes before the realm of dreams claimed her.

...

Within an hour amongst the guest, Himari had already learned more than she needed to know. According to some of the gossiping aunts, this marriage wasn't an affair of love, but a cover up for an undesired pregnancy. Of low birth, it seemed like the bride wasn't the first choice of the groom's family for a love match. Like a perfect doll, Himari would stamp a polite smile on her lips, laugh lightly at misogynic jokes and batt her eyelashes candidly. In his formal attire, as Suna's Kazekage, Gaara politely entertained the conversations with various guests, many of them being politicians. At the moment, the groom's father, a nobleman with a lot of political connections, was bragging about his recent investments in charcoal mines. With a frozen smile, Himari wanted to bang her head against a wall out of boredom. Her mind wandered away.

The lovely greenhouse harbored a vast variety of plants. Colorful flowers blossomed beautifully as their head of delicate petals turned towards the vertiginous glass ceiling above them. Soft sunbeams passed through the glass, illuminating the place with an enchanting light. A lovely place for a marriage.

Big, fat laughs dragged her back to the conversation.

"What a dazzling creature, isn't she?" said a crude voice. The man's face accumulated wrinkles, timeworn. Although, his eyes remained as sharp as ever, and Himari didn't feel at ease under his lingering stare on her. "What's your name, doll?"

It took her a moment to realize he was addressing his question to her. Himari fought back the urge to roll her eyes at the man, annoyed. Playing her role of being a nice ornament to the Kazekage's arm, she pushed her bangs out her face, stretched her lips in a sugary smile, and as she was about to politely answer, Gaara stiffly slide his arm around her waist. Perched on high heels, Himari almost tripped over.

"We're expected elsewhere," the redhead lied. "Excuse us."

Without waiting for the man's reply, they left to look for their chairs. Suddenly, she couldn't tolerate their proximity anymore or the way his hand rested on her hip, barely touching it, as if he didn't want her to feel trapped. Or as if he didn't even wish to touch her. A sharp pain pierced her at the thought.

...

They sat down at the second row of chairs. Fidgeting, the groom stood at the altar. The middle-aged man inherited is father's sharp traits, as if sculpted directly from the stone. Although, love softened his eyes as he was waiting eagerly for his bride to appear. His eyes didn't advert from the door. It's as if he didn't want to miss the entrance of his bride, not even a single second of it.

Gaara's unexpressive gaze trailed on the restless audience. It hadn't transpired in any way, but Himari had felt the tension in his body while she had held his arm among the guests. Lips in a straight line, he clearly didn't enjoy himself. Sometimes, it was as if he was far away, even though he was right by her side. Tired of the silence between them, Himari cleared her throat.

"It's a lovely wedding," she said.

At her comment, Gaara scoffed lightly. "Marriage has nothing to do with love."

"What are marriages for, then?" she frowned.

"It's a mere political agreement between two parties."

Himari couldn't disagree more. Her mother had thrown her future with a councilman's son away to elope with her father, even if she knew it meant a life of incessant travelling. Your father is my home, sweetheart. I'll follow him to the end of the world. And her dad venerated the ground's walked on by her mother, always looking for a way to make her smile at him.

"I can't agree with you," she replied with a fond smile at the thought of her parents. "To me, marriage is a promise. It's a promise of eternal love between two persons."

"It's a naïve vision of it."

She huffed. "One day, I'll convince you."

He froze at her words, before a glimpse of a smile lifted the corner of his lips. "I doubt it."

Suddenly, harsh whispers swarmed the audience. Gaara tensed up even if the whispers weren't about him, this time. Rumors about a missing bride reached their ears. Some guests seemed to rejoice at the news, mainly those on the groom's side of the family.

"Good riddance," hissed a woman behind them. 'Wouldn't want a commoner to stain the family tree."

Himari couldn't advert her gaze from the groom as he shoved away the falsely comforting hand of his man of honor, not believing it. He stood at the altar, unwavering, still hoping his bride would appear, eyes full of worry. Such devotion stirred something in her chest.

"I need to freshen up," Himari said, trying to control the tremors in her voice. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

On her way out, the whispers followed her.

...

After wandering off for a while, Himari ended up in a library twice the size of her appartement. The smell of old books and dust tickled her nose, but her nerves effectively calmed down at the soothing scent. She didn't know what she was doing or more precisely, what she was running from. Or why. The sound of sniffles stopped her from picking up a random book off of one of the shelves. In an isolated alcove, a woman wept silently. She hadn't noticed her intrusion in the room yet. Her chin rested on her bent knees as tears fell freely from her puffy eyes. Her voluminous dress of a soft purple shade engulfed her legs. Himari froze and her eyes widened.

"You're the bride," she realized out loud.

As the words came out of her mouth, the bride's face crumbled as more tears messed up her makeup, like she'd accidentally pressed the wrong button and now, Himari didn't know how to undo it. The woman's lips shuddered as no words came out of them. Like a wounded animal, a heartbreaking cry escaped her.

"I c-can't do it," she sobbed uncontrollably. "I can't. He's almost t-twice my age, his f-family loathes me, and the people-"

"Alright, let's take a deep breath," Himari soothed. "What's your name?"

"S-suki," she stuttered.

Her body was shaking like a small, terrified dove. Her siren eyes filled with tears, Suki pushed a strand of golden hair out of her face. She looked around her age, maybe a little bit older than her.

"I'm Himari," she smiled softly. "I can fetch someone for you, if you want."

"No!" the bride panicked, frantic. "Please, don't."

She sniffled, smoothing down the fabric of her dress in an unconscious gesture. Her arms wrapped around her legs, Suki hid her face from the rest of the world. Himari didn't know what to do, or what were the right words to say. Her thoughts wandered to the oldest of the sand sibling. Shikamaru had proposed to her, three months ago. Although they still hadn't decided of a date for the wedding, Temari was already a ball of nerves. Himari wasn't trained to handle a bride's meltdown. But Suki's sadness spoke to her, real and painful. She didn't need a manual to handle this. Himari sat down at the bride's side.

"I'll stay with you, then," she offered, smiling kindly. "We'll sort things out."

"I c-can't do it," Suki stammered out. "Everyone thinks I tricked him into marrying me, his father disapproves of us and the rumors-"

"Do you love him?" Himari cut her off.

Her siren eyes broaden at her question. "W-what?"

"Do you love him, Suki?" she repeated softly.

"So much it hurts to be apart for him," the woman sighed, her lips twisting in a pained smile. "He's my first thought as I wake up, every morning. You'll probably think it's stupid, but I believe he's my soulmate."

Himari didn't think it was stupid for a single second. Love wasn't stupid. Far from it. She could understand the feeling of someone's soul singing to yours in ways you couldn't even start to explain.

Suki's trembling hand opened to reveal an old watch, the leather of the wristband worn with time. "You're not from here, are you?" she asked her.

Himari shook her head. "I'm from Suna."

She sniffled, a small smile on her lips. "Here, in the Land of Earth, we have a wedding tradition for the newlyweds to offer each other two gifts; one made out of stone and one from the heart," Suki explained as she contemplated the watch tenderly. "This was my grandfather's. My grandmother offered it to him as her wedding's present from the heart, so he wouldn't forget to come back to her, every night. And he did. For sixty-eight years."

"It's beautiful."

Suki's face contorted as she hugged her legs tighter, embarrassment coloring her cheeks of a reddish shade. "Yeah, except that I've been gifted a gorgeous greenhouse," she mumbled. Her nose scrunched up. "And all I have for him is a pathetic watch."

"It's not pathetic!" Himari protested. "It's a commitment to him. A promise to reunite together. It's priceless."

"But everyone thinks-"

"It doesn't matter," she argued. "He's waiting for you, Suki."

The bride sniffled. "Is he?"

"Yes, he is."

Himari offered her hand. She took it. As she quickly fixed her makeup, Suki raised a questioning glare at her.

"Have you ever been in love, Himari?"

An oppressing feeling stepped on her chest as she remembered the feeling of Gaara's protective hand brushing against her hips, grounding her. It wasn't the same as Kankuro's or Daisuke's. It felt as if it simply belonged, like an uncompleted puzzle had found its missing piece. She'd been doomed to lose a part of her heart to this boy the moment he'd offered her the tiniest of smile. But love was a double edged knife. It wasn't always pink and bubbly. Imperfect.

"No, I haven't."

The lie left a weird taste on her tongue.

...

The newlyweds couldn't let go of each other, utterly enamored.

After the exchange of the vows, which were written on a thin stone slab as it stood for a timeless love, the wedding's staff directed the guests to a huge ballroom decorated with flowers of every purple shades – the bride's favorite color, and silver accents. At the round tables, the name of the guests were embedded in smooth rocks of various shapes. Feeling full after eating every Land of Earth's delicacy, Himari absently ran her thumb over her own name's engraving, smiling as the dancefloor became slowly overflowed with guests after the heartwarming speeches – mainly from the bride's friends and family, as the groom's side still sourly digested the outcome of the wedding ceremony. The band played a soft, but rhythmic music to attract dancers to the floor. Turning to Gaara, Himari let go of the rock.

"Let's dance," she proposed.

He'd barely touched his plates, throwing a disinterested stare at the small crowd forming on the dancefloor. At her suggestion, he frowned. The idea didn't tempt him. At all.

"I don't dance."

Himari pouted, but she didn't press the matter. "Your lost," she chirped.

With a playful wink, she left their table for the crowded dancefloor. Many Girls Night in Aiya's company had turned her into a terrific dancer. Trapped in five inches stilettos, her feet would probably curse her at the end of the night, but Himari didn't let it stop her.

As she stepped on the dancefloor, a man asked for the privilege of dancing with her. Charmed by his mannerisms, Himari accepted the offer with a slight blush on her cheeks. Through the songs, a handful of man had required a chance to dance with her. They'd twirled her around, proposed her a few drinks, showed her a couple of the Land of Earth's signature dance moves – and also laughed merrily at some of her poor attempts at replicating them. She'd dragged a bored teenager off his chair and her silly efforts at following the dance's complicated steps succeeded at cracking a smile on the boy's face.

As she was about to step off the dancefloor for a small break, Suki's siren eyes met hers, pleading for a dance with her. With a genuine smile, Himari extended her hand to the bride. Waltzing on a highly popular ballroom dance, they'd failed to keep their seriousness as they'd slid, twirled and stepped across the dancefloor, laughing their heart out. Throwing her a pointing look, Suki raised a single brow at her. "The Kazekage, uh?"

Himari stiffened. A sudden warmth ignited her cheeks at her insinuating tone. She resisted the urge to turn around, knowing she would find Gaara sitting at their table.

"I'm just his escort for the event," Himari explained.

"The way he's been staring at you the whole night doesn't tell me the same story," she hummed. As she spied Gaara's reaction not so subtly over Himari's shoulder, Suki smile softened. "I've heard many stories of the unfamous Demon of the Sand, but I find them difficult to believe, now. He smiles whenever you're laughing, you know? No monster does that."

Her stomach twisted. It couldn't be. Suki's eyes saw things from behind her pink glasses, completely under the love charm. After all, Gaara's feeling weren't so transparent. So easy to interpretate. It wasn't love. She knew that much.

"We were childhood friends," Himari retorted. "It's a bit of fondness, that's all."

Suki snorted as her eyes glistened with amusement. "I didn't say anything else about it," she replied teasingly. She put a strand of blond hair behind her ear. "Anyway, I wanted to thank you. Without you, I wouldn't be married to the man I love."

"You're giving me too much credit."

"I'm not," the blond argued as the song ended. "You really are a kind soul, Himari. Please, enjoy the rest of your evening." With a final bow, Suki returned back to her husband's caring side.

Her feet were killing her. She'd probably grown blisters with all the dancing. A tall man appeared before her, asking her to dance. As she was about to politely decline, a cool hand slid in hers. A wave of murmurs rose in the room as the guests noticed the Kazekage's presence on the dancefloor. The tall man's confident posture stiffened.

"Kazekage-sama," he bowed politely. "I'll leave her to your care. Please, enjoy the next dance."

After the man had excused himself to leave, Gaara didn't move as if he hadn't thought his action through. Himari's thought about her hurting feet faded at the back of her mind. Couples swarmed the dancefloor, dancing to the slow-paced beat of the song that came out from the speakers.

Himari guided his hands to her waist, before putting her arms around his neck. In that moment, it felt as if everything had returned to its rightful place.

"Finally joining the party?" she teased him.

She felt his sand armors against the tip of her fingers. She didn't mind it, knowing he couldn't possibly allow himself to be vulnerable in such a crowded space. His fingers spread slightly on her waist. For a second, it felt as if they'd never been apart. With a gentle pressure, his hands guided her around the dancefloor.

Himari looked at him, a bit surprise. "You're not a bad dancer."

"I had lessons," he replied. "The Council insisted that I learned for special events and gatherings."

"It's going to be useful for Temari's wedding," Himari pointed out. Her lips twisted as she remembered one of her duties as Temari's maid of honor. "According to Suna's traditions, the bridesmaids need to perform the Sand's Dance as a wish of longevity and well, as you probably saw, I'm a total mess of a dancer."

The tiniest of smile tugged at his lips at her remark. "You looked… happy," he admitted. "Though, my sister still isn't sure if the wedding will be a Suna's one.

Shikamaru's parents pressed for a Konoha traditional wedding, but Temari had been flipping through her mother's wedding album ever since Shikamaru's proposal and even if she hadn't voicing it out loud yet, the blond had confided to dream of a traditional Suna's wedding, where she hoped to wear her mother's dress on the precious day.

"They could do a mix of both traditions," Himari proposed. As he gently twirled her around on the music's slow tempo, a playful smile stretched her lips as a funny thought crossed her mind. "But if it's a Suna wedding, could you do the bridesmaid's dance in my stead? I'm sure it'll make you really popular with the women."

He rolled his eyes, amused. "Kankuro wouldn't let me live it down."

...

She was tipsy.

Gaara's eyes had widened slightly at the poor state of her feet when she'd taken off her heels, and he'd insisted to carry her back to her room. Her laughter echoing in the silent corridors probably kept any poor souls from sleeping tonight. Gaara's stern expression urged her to poke his forehead, just to see his reaction. Her fingers unconsciously played with a strand of hair at his neck's nape. It was soft.

They finally reached her room. As he put her down, her feet throbbed a little. She winced. Stilettos heels weren't her first choice of shoes, a bit of a torture. Her arms rested around his neck for a while. Frozen in the moment, he didn't take his hands off her waist. It wasn't like when they were dancing. It was different, here, with the two of them alone in her room. It wasn't a friendly touch anymore. It felt… intimate. He smiles whenever you're laughing, you know? She blinked. Himari was hearing her own heartbeat in her chest, distraught. She wondered if Gaara's heart sang a song similar as hers.

"I missed you," she admitted, letting the alcohol push the words out of her mouth. "Haven't you missed me?

His breath caught in his throat at her question. Taller than her, he had to lower his head slightly to look at her. His clothes smelt of dry sand, sunrays and citrus. Sea-foam eyes contemplated her.

"Yes, I have."

Grains of sand rolled under her finger's tips as she tightened her grip around him. Mustering the courage to ask the question that burned her lips, she inhaled a sharp breath.

"Then, why have you been avoiding me, Gaara?"

His body tensed.

"You told me to."

"I didn't-"

The voice of her past snapped in her head, angry. Get out, Gaara. And don't come near me anymore. She'd told him to. He'd simply listened to her, but it didn't explain a lot of other things. Like why he'd still continue to avoid her, even after her attempt to talk to him, or why he'd been denying her mission's requests.

"Please, Gaara. Let's talk."

"You're under the alcohol's influence," he retorted, distant. "You should rest."

On those words, he turned around and left her in the middle of the room, astonished. Her arms fell back at her sides. Deception overflowed her. Then, her lips twisted into a pout. With a fast series of hand signs, roots emerged from the flowerpot at the entrance of the room. In the blink of an eye, thick roots had blocked the access to the bedroom's door. Reflecting her anger, sharp thorns pierced the root's skin.

"You're not leaving until I've gotten my answers."

As he turned around to face her, Gaara's darkening glare threw daggers at her. She'd managed to make him angry. Perfect. Sand twirled at his feet.

"Free the door, Himari." His tone held a warning in it.

Golden speckles tinted his irises, shining under the soft light of the bedroom's glass chandelier. His fingers stretched at his side, and the sand at his feet responded to its master's call by slowly shifting around him. Her feet didn't budge. She wasn't going to back down. She defiantly raised her chin. "Make me."

Arrows of sands flew towards her as vines spread from under the balcony's door, destroying the projectiles with a slash. New waves of sand came after her. Himari jumped out of the way, using the bedframe, the ground and the walls to dodge the attacks. Arms crossed, not moving from his position, Gaara didn't seem to throw much of a sweat. Her jaw clenched. Concentrating chakra in her feet, she sticked to the ceiling for a second, forming hand signs. Thorns flew at him from behind. This time, he moved while she let herself drop on the ground. But she hadn't anticipated his next move. Before she could react, he had her pinned to the bed's mattress. Not with his sand, but with his own hands. Her breath caught in her throat.

"You don't understand," he said between clenched teeth. His body was shaking with an anger that didn't terrify her as much as it did before. Or maybe it was just one of the alcohol's superpowers. He sighed harshly. "You didn't wake up."

"Are you still talking about that mission?" she exclaimed with annoyance. "I already told you that I couldn't predict the ambush-"

He grunted. "I'm not referring to that time."

She tried to shove him off with a hip thrust, but his body only pinned her back in place as if it was an effortless thing to do. She bared her teeth at him like a trapped squirrel in a cage.

"About what time, then?" she snapped, fighting against his grip on her wrists. "Tell me!"

Suddenly, Himari realized the proximity of their position. His ragged breath brushing against her face, sending chills over her body. His scent infiltrated her every cell, intoxicating. But it was his eyes that kept her from uttering a single word, glistening with pain. Emotions flickered on his traits. Guilt was eating him up, torturing his face.

Her face fell. "Oh, Gaara," she whispered softly.

"You weren't moving, Himari," he rasped, sorrow in his voice. "For days. I called your name, but you didn't answer. And it was all my fault."

She shook her head. They were just kids at the time. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't mean any of it to happen." Memories of starry skies, ice cones and sand flowers invaded her mind. She wanted all of it again, with him. "You would never hurt me on purpose." At least, not physically. Her heart still ached from a pain that wouldn't go away.

"But I did," he retorted. "I can't bear to see you hurt again, Himari."

And to ensure so, he'd denied her requests to leave on missions. He'd stayed away from her. As she gazed into the golden of his eyes, a recollection of an encounter with a great beast hit her. The feeling of grains of sand engulfing her in a warm embrace, like the most of comforting blanket. She'd promise to stay with him. With them. How foolish she was, back then. Life wasn't always a fairytale. And love was a double edged knife. She woulnd't let it cloud her judgment.

"You can't chain me forever to Suna, Gaara."

"I can't guarantee your safety if you're out of my reach," he huffed angrily. "I can't lose you. You don't understand. I did everything to keep you safe. I've stopped you from leaving the village, I've made sure you father's job wouldn't be a problem anymore, and-"

"My father's job? What do you mean-"

A position freed itself, she remembered her father excitedly announcing the news to them at the dinner table. It's good pay and a long-term contract. They said the previous guy's been relocated to another position. I can't believe it, Sara. Right after my other contract ended. It's fate.

Except, it wasn't fate. Was it?

"Gaara, what happened to the man who occupied my father's position before him?" she asked in a trembling voice.

He froze. In his silence, Himari presumed what had happened to the poor man. ice ran through her veins, freezing her body. He'd gone far in order to keep her close to him. Too far. Her heart owled in her chest, full of pain. This wasn't love. Or affection. Not the kind she wanted. It was a cage.

A golden gaze followed the change of her expression, cold. "I couldn't lose you," he replied, not a glimpse of remorse about what he did in his eyes.

He didn't understand. She thought he could, with time. But he didn't learn anything. His grip loosened on her wrist. As she raised her arms to clasp her fingers behind his neck, the tips of his long fingers brushed past her forearm. His eyes widened slightly at the intimacy of their touch, while their breath mixed as one. Himari softly nudged her nose in the crook of his neck, memorizing his smell. A part of herself, unreasonable, didn't want to let him go, ready to throw away her freedom if it meant to stay by his side, but the price to pay wasn't one to be considered lightly. Mad love couldn't win. She wouldn't be a bird with clipped wings. Tears fell from her eyes, and she couldn't stop them from falling freely. She took a sharp breath, trying to control her voice.

"You already lost me, Gaara."

He lost her the moment he tried to control her, and her life. He lost her the moment he turned his back on their friendship as if it meant nothing. He tensed at her words. For a moment, his sand armor cracked, deteriorating. Himari used that weakness against him, in order to betray him. She consoled herself; he'd betrayed her trust first. They weren't kids anymore.

Her delicate fingers moved from his neck to slid across his temples. With chirurgical precision, she gathered an infinite amount of chakra to her hands. As she induced a superficial sleep, Himari felt his body slumped against hers. Carefully, she lowered his unconscious form down on the mattress. It wouldn't last for long. Shukaku wouldn't allow Gaara to be defenseless for a prolonged time.

With stiff movements, Himari stuffed her things in her bag, changed into a more comfortable outfit, then jumped out by the window, not looking back.

I'm sorry, Gaara.


SIX MONTHS LATER

Lee appeared out of the bathroom with damp hair, a towel around his waist and a toothbrush hanging in his mouth. Putting on her shirt, Himari rushed into the bathroom to wash off the traces of sleep with splashes of cold water. With a brush, she proceeded to detangle her hair. Casting an annoyed glance at her uncooperating bangs, Himari didn't even try to shape them into something passable. She didn't have much time. Leaning his shoulder in the doorway, Lee took the toothbrush out of his mouth. A smile was tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Good morning, roommate," he humored her. "Are you late to somewhere by any chance?"

Himari grunted. "I'm covering Sakura's shift at the hospital. She's at a medical conference for the day."

Lee's brows furrowed. "Sakura's conference is on Monday."

She applied a bit of sunscreen on her face, more out of habit than out of necessity. "Yeah, and?"

"It's Sunday, Himari."

She stopped rummaging through the bathroom drawers looking for her deodorant and froze, confused. Then, her brain slowly registered the meaning of his words. Sunday.

"Oh."

...

Himari sat at the kitchen's counter while Lee struggled with an eggshell that fell into the pancake mix. His cooking skills were close to disaster, like hers, but Pancakes Sunday had become an inevitable part of their routine. She couldn't get through the week without her dose of buttery pancakes, fruit jam and melted chocolate chips on Sundays.

"I've put your letters on the fridge," Lee informed her as he slid a plate full of pancakes towards her. He stole the blueberries jam from her, before sitting in front of her at the countertop. "By the way, Ino renewed her invitation to come by her family's flower shop. Since you're free today, I thought maybe we could pay her a little visit. You've impressed her with your knowledge. She's dying to learn about Suna's flowers varieties."

"I don't know, Lee. Maybe another time."

She stole back the jar of blueberry jam. Lee wasn't the type to analyze someone's feelings. A bit dense at times, he wouldn't notice a person's change of expression or the reason of it. Or that's what she had thought, at first. In fact, Lee wasn't as careless as people believed. He'd just been exceptionally good at pushing aside negativity and not letting other people's personal feelings interfere with his own happiness. Over the last months, they'd became pretty close. This time, he wasn't buying her excuse. Lee's serious face directed at her, lips tight and eyes squinted, made her skin crawl.

"You know, you're always speaking of flowers with such a peculiar fondness, but I've never seen you brought back a single plant to the apartment."

"Yeah, I'm a living contradiction," the girl joked. She spread a huge amount of strawberry jam on her pancake, before taking a bite. Himari gently brushed off his concern. "How about we take on Naruto's offer for ramen at Ichiraku's tonight?"

Evaluating if he'd better drop the subject, Lee's eyes squinted more intensely at her. Acting as if it wasn't a big deal, Himari dropped off her stool and went to grab the letters on the fridge. Lee's sigh reached her ears, and she internally cheered. She'd won this round.

"Ramen sounds good," he conceded.

"Perfect," she smiled. "Thanks for breakfast, Lee."

Her letters in hand, she left for her room.

...

After she'd left the Land of Earth, she'd wandered from village to village for weeks, landing a hand at hospitals, orphanages, refugee centers and shelters until her travelling path led her to Konoha's gates. As if it was fate, her feet brought her to the training grounds, where she caught a glimpse of a green suit. She'd burst into ugly tears from relief, sniffling and crying, with Lee's strong arms wrapped around her frail figure. You told me to not give up, didn't you? he'd whispered in her ears.

Till that day, two months ago, she'd been crashing at her friend's appartement, occupying its spare bedroom since Lee's previous roommate couldn't deal with a shinobi's inconsistent schedule, and left. With the help of Lee, she'd eased her way into the Konoha's life, and even tagged along on missions with varied teams between her shifts at Konoha's hospital. He'd introduced her as a dear friend of his to the Hokage, and after an evaluation of her medical skills, Lady Tsunade allowed her to stick around as a temporary resident.

Reading her letters always brought a smile to her lips. Aiya's bubblegum-pink letters contained a detailed report of everything happening in Suna while her mother's ones had recipe ideas, questions about her social life in Konoha and updates about her plants' welfare. The letters of the sands siblings never mentioned their younger brother's whereabouts. Sometimes, Himari dreamed about the redhead waking up on the matress, groggy, confused, and all alone. It tickled a guilty part of her, but over time she'd persuaded herself that her decision had been for the best. If she'd stayed, over the years, she would have ended up ressenting him to the point of no return. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the letters.

This time, Kankuro was complaining about his sister's bridezilla behavior, and Temari's frantic calligraphy indicated a really stressed-out state of mind as she ranted about the wedding's staff incompetency, Shikamaru's laid back attitude and her brother's horrible choice of suit for the ceremony. Half of the second page consisted of a plea for her immediate return to Suna, a month ahead of schedule. At the end of the three-pages letter, Himari sided with Kankuro about the bridezilla thing but since she was the blond's maid of honor, the girl couldn't possibly take his side openly on the matter.

After finishing to write back to every letter, Himari dropped on the mattress. Some days, the feeling of something's missing grabbed her by the throat, nailing her body to the bed, but Lee's enthusiastic voice snapped her out of it, most of time. When the young man wasn't there, she would kick the feeling out with a mission to monopolize her thoughts. Overall, she was… content.

Even if the feeling of something's missing never completely left her.

...

Naruto's loudness hadn't tired out with the years. Some things seemed to stay the same, after all. Himari managed to hide her amused smile behind her ramen's bowl as she drank the chicken broth. In the last hour, Naruto had succeeded to concoct an intense training plan with Lee, marveled about his third date with Hinata, told them about his misadventures on his five last missions, and all that while eating four bowls of ramen. As he slurped on a noodle, his eyes lighted up.

"Oh, yeah! I've forgot to tell you," the blond exclaimed excitedly, a huge grin on his face. "Gaara is going to be visiting Konoha for a few days. He'll be here tomorrow."

At the mention of his name, her chopsticks slipped from her fingers, falling on the counter under Lee's worried glance. What. The. Hell? She didn't feel hungry anymore, a tight knot in her stomach. Naruto continued to babble stuff in an overexcited tone about his friend's upcoming visit, oblivious to her change of mood. Lee gently brushed his hand past her knuckles, letting her know he was there. He knew the jest of her situation with Gaara since she'd bawled her eyes out to him after a night out drinking with his teammates. Naruto kept talking, but she wasn't listening to him as if her head was under water. Gaara was coming to Konoha. Tomorrow.

That night, she didn't sleep.

...

He hadn't come to see her.