(2021/11/19): Hey everyone!

As promised, here is this the next chapter - two in one week, the first time I posted this consistent in... years? This was one of my favourite chapters to write so far and deals with the ups-and-downs of a relationship. The main pairing of this series has been through so much, but I haven't even reached the tip of that iceberg! Lots of exciting things to come in the chapters to follow. I'm near complete in story-boarding the chapters of this fic, and it looks like it might amass 200k words by the end - hopefully I don't exceed that prediction!

As always, stay safe and thank you for reading! xx

Content advisory: smut

Chapter 7
Nomasaki II

The winds were cool when they rose that morning.

Autumn made its brisk reminder clear in the desert lands, breaking through the swelter that lingered on from a brutal summer. The Yama-nin stood beyond the gates while a teary-eyed Nomasaki bid them farewell with Gaara at her side, while her acquired bodyguard watched from the shadows of the gateway in diligent silence. The Kazekage might as well have been a ghost that day, his presence was quiet and his chakra near dim to her blurry senses. For her father's entire stay, the Yama chieftain and her husband met behind closed doors without the intrusion of council – and when the meeting was over, the Kazekage remained in his office all through the still hours of the night. Their shared bed was hers alone since his departure to the Hōki Family homestead a week ago, and his change in demeanor since his return made her heart sink with worry. His interactions with her were scarce and brief, varying between promises to come back soon with a soft kiss to her forehead or telling her he would be late to come home. Not even Kankurō could give an explanation for his brother's scarceness, and Meiyumi only assured her that it was nothing to worry about. Never before had Gaara acted such a way towards her.

Nomasaki felt a disconnect – and it stung as if a blade itself.

Despite her father's visit being brief, it was still a welcome one. As a gift, she was presented a new kimono with the insignia of her clan stitched onto the back – a triangle drawn within a circle, representing a tree within a field of snow. For thousands of years, the symbol survived through times of war, disease, and extinction – and now it held new meaning and new life. She decided she would wear it once she could again fit into her favourite clothes – but that was still months away. Meeting Sana again was a pleasant surprise to Nomasaki, with the young kunoichi's towering willowy height catching her off guard from the gaunt and imprisoned girl she met in that cave months ago. The Kumatsume were thriving with the Yamamori, her own people – and it made her heart swell with pride knowing she did the right thing by voicing for their freedom to the mountain lands.

"Can you train me?" she remembered her asking the other night, "I'm learning the ways of the blade from Ekashiba-sama, but I want to learn how to be a strong kunoichi – like you! Can you take me under your wing, my lady?"

The proposition took Nomasaki by surprise.

She had not imagined herself as a tutor – or a sensei, for that matter. She remembered Gaara was a sensei once, although briefly. Matsuri was his student's name, a doe-eyed genin who used a rope javelin – who later became one of his many admirers when he was chosen as the Fifth Kazekage. Gaara told Nomasaki of it one day as they took a break from his paperwork before the arrival of the Akatsuki those four years ago. When she asked him if he would ever do it again, he admitted he was unsure. "It's a great responsibility," he told his assistant, "When you are a sensei, you're responsible for teaching them the way of shinobi. What they learn from you might be a matter of life and death, it's not to be taken lightly." But Sana was no ordinary kunoichi – she was a beast, like her. It only seemed proper that a bear learn from a wolf. After some careful thought, Nomasaki agreed on the condition that Sana wait until the birth of their child.

And then she would be her sensei, instructing her in all she knew.

As she stood before their Yama guests, Nomasaki wished her father could stay longer – or that she could return with him to her cold homeland. Her last journey to Yamagakure was months ago and her heart ached for the snows desperately, her winter skin craving release from the dry heat which only made her condition more unbearable. Still, she appreciated the scarce time they had.

"You have to go so soon?" Nomasaki brought herself to speak. "You can stay longer, if you like."

Her father smiled. "Yama needs me. I am the chieftain, after all."

"This heat is so exhausting…" Sana sighed, adjusting the fur cloak that was slung heavily over her shoulders. "I can't wait to get back to the mountains. Bears don't do well in the desert… I don't know how you desert-folk do it."

Wolves don't do well either, Nomasaki agreed, Even us half-breeds.

Her father's hazel eyes flickered to his bodyguard, as if a forgotten thought jolted his memory. "Before we go… Sana, hand my daughter that scroll from Ekashiba."

With a nod, Sana reached in her fur-laded pack and brought out a tattered scroll. The young kunoichi towered over Nomasaki as she passed it to her. Taking it from her hands, Nomasaki examined it curiously. Strangely enough, it reminded her of the scroll given to her by her dying mother those many years ago - the one that gave her Hanone. Its binding was aged and torn, with the gold ribbon that tied it closed over the sealing tag near falling apart in her fingers. By the looks of it, the scroll appeared to be a thousand years ago.

"What is this?" She questioned, turning it over in her hands. "It's so old…"

"Ekashiba found it deep within the temple located beyond the Yamamori Shrine. The temple was near completely frozen, buried under snow and ice." Kyō smiled. "An intriguing find, indeed. He said it may contain the history and knowledge of your clan's ancient ninjutsu. Perhaps you can teach your clansmen what's been lost to time?"

"But why me?" Nomasaki stammered, near overwhelmed. She felt as if her heart had grown too full in her chest, beating with excited anxiety under her controlled façade. "Ekashiba is very skilled – and the others! Certainly, he could -,"

"He declined." Her father said, a proud smile curved under his beard. "He told me the heiress should have it. Afterall, you are the last living descendant of the main branch through your mother. Ekashiba told me in confidence that someone from the branch family shouldn't be the one to have this – but you, the Yamamori clan heiress."

Nomasaki stood in bewildered silence. Tears began to form in her light purple eyes, but her calm expression remained strong to ward them off. "…I don't know what to say."

A warm presence touched her shoulder.

Surprised, she turned and saw that Gaara had his arm against her back with his hand grasping her shoulder gingerly. Looking to her hand, the rising grains passed the scroll to her bodyguard who lingered behind the gate. It was not his sand that held her shoulder – but his own actions. His comforting grip brought her closer to the warmth of his body, the closest she was to him in days. Even as still and sullen he was that morning, he seemed to at least be aware of the emotions clear within her eyes. Perhaps he was not a ghost, after all. As stoic as a person he was, the young Kazekage looked on at their departing visitors with his wife under his arm in delicate embrace. And for that, she was grateful.

"Thank you for your counsel, Kyō." Gaara spoke, his tone calm and even. A light smile formed on his lips, but his eyes appeared empty. "Have a safe journey. We'll be seeing each other again in… a few months."

Her father let out a chuckle. "Of course!" He nodded. "Take care, Kazekage-sama. Watch over my daughter for me." His glance moved towards Nomasaki, a fatherly tint to his eyes as he met her teary face. "And remember… If you change your mind, you will always have a home in the north…"

Keeping her emotions at bay, Nomasaki pushed on with a feigned smile. "Thanks, dad…"

"Kyō-sama," Sana said, her husky voice drawing his attention. "We should go. We don't want to get caught in a sandstorm on the way back."

She even sounds like a bear, Nomasaki realized, I wonder what my voice sounds like to other people. Entertaining the thought, she imagined a stuttering mouse or a snarling wolf. But the only idea that came to mind was a sniffling rodent.

"You're right." Her father turned back. "Lead on. We shouldn't keep the village waiting."

Sana started off first, pausing for a moment to wave. "Bye, Nomasaki-sama!"

Shortly after, their figures soon became silhouettes against the wide expanse of desert that lay before them. While the sun rose against the orange dunes, the foreign visitors finally disappeared on their path to the lands which lay north. With a heavy heart weighed down by duty, Nomasaki kept silent and held in her oncoming tears. Perhaps the desert will dry them for her.

"What did your father mean by that?"

Gaara's voice jolted her.

His embrace left, leaving a void between them as she turned to meet his tired eyes. Just as the last few days, his face had been drained – exhausted and troubled. He was not angry – but to say he was sad was an understatement. "Oh," She started, trying to search for the right words. Softly, she smiled up at him. "He… offered me to come back to Yamagakure. He said they can host us until after the birth, so I could be safe in case more assassins arrive. You'll be forced to stay behind, which I understand… but you could join me before the birth if we decide to go -," Something flickered behind the Kazekage's worn eyes, striking her as concerning. Her smile faded, washed over with worry. "What's wrong?"

He waited a moment to speak, his expression stern and stoic. "Are you going?"

His words surprised her.

"N-No, why would I?" She questioned, unprepared for his reply. "You wouldn't want that. Besides… my home is here. I want our child to be born here – in Suna." Solemnly, she looked down and averted her saddened glance under a shroud of gold strands. "I know it's risky to remain here, but I'm not scared. I've been hunted my whole life by mercenaries, so why should this be any different? I've accepted my fate long ago because of my clan, and now because of my marriage." Forcing away the sorrow, she lifted her glance back to him and gave a light smile. "I have to stay here with you – you're my husband. And I want you to be there… for the birth. You're the father."

A silence stood between them.

Before her, Gaara's expression remained firm – but the turquoise that painted his ringed-eyes was faded by insomnia and a pain she could not understand. It worried her. She grew more convinced his travels to the Hōki settlement was a dire mistake – all it seemed to do was make him miserable. And in that moment, she felt a sinking in her chest as her gentle smile of pride faded from her lips.

Something was lingering behind his eyes.

"I have some duties to attend to." Gaara spoke as he turned on his heel, headed back towards the estate. "Shijima, I entrust my wife to you."

"Gaara -,"

But by the time she said his name and reached for him, he had already disappeared with the winds and his sand. Emotion near overcame her, the tears rising back to her violet eyes. A wife to a Kage is no easy feat, she reminded herself, I'm his second wife – the first wife is duty. Always. Even so, the distraction was not enough to convince her thoughts.

"Nomasaki-sama," Shijima approached, clad in her shinobi attire. "Allow me to be your escort for the day. Your friend Meiyumi has been temporarily relieved from her duties, so I will be in her stead."

"Relieved?" She questioned. "Why? Under what orders?"

"I cannot answer that." The Hōki replied. "That would break my oath of trust."

Gaara's doing, Nomasaki convinced herself. "Fine… But if you can, I'd like to see her."

The Hōki nodded. "That is permitted. I can escort you to her when she returns from her present assignment."

Nomasaki bit her tongue. So this is how it is… She submitted, her face cleansed of emotion. "Very well."

Never before had eating been so uncomfortable.

The plates made small clatters on the table as the meals of sauteed chicken and kimchi rice finally arrived. At a street-side restaurant, Nomasaki and her newly acquired bodyguard sat across from each other in stiff silence. Usually, it was Meiyumi who sat with her, talked with her, joked with her – but today sat a kunoichi clothed in dark garbs who still refused to show her whole face. Nomasaki was behind the mask herself at one point in her life, but she seldom realized what others saw when looking at her shroud.

Wary of getting off on the wrong foot, Nomasaki decided to speak after they finished their meals. "Shijima-sama -,"

"Shijima." The kunoichi corrected.

"…Sorry." Nomasaki acknowledged, averting her eyes at first. Putting on a pleasant face, she decided to start with a question. "If I can ask, why is it that you are not 'Shijima-sama'? You're the firstborn, correct? Isn't Hakuto-sama your younger sister?"

A moment of hesitance marked the Hōki's hidden expression.

The silence spoke for itself.

"My lady, you're right. I am the firstborn." Shijima answered. "However, I was deemed not fit to rule… so I resigned my status as heiress and my sister was granted the title of heiress instead. My father insisted, so I complied." Her voice relaxed, although the tension was coated on her tongue while she said the words. "Since then, I devoted myself to training in the arts of shinobi so I may protect her with my very life if necessary."

"…Why did you resign?" Nomasaki asked, clutching her cup of water in her hands. "Am I permitted to ask?"

"Yes, yes you are, my lady." Shijima nodded. "Are you familiar… with the man named Orochimaru?"

Nomasaki's heart near dropped from the words.

Orochimaru.

The grip on her water became tighter. Fortunately having never met the snake in her life, the stories she heard second-hand from Gaara and the Konoha-nin over the years left her frightened of the power and destruction left in the Sannin's wake. Experiments, torture, and forbidden jutsu. It made her skin crawl to imagine what would have happened if the snake found the last Yamamori hidden away in the mountains all those years ago. She might as well have been Uchiha Sasuke, if that were the case. And the snake murdered Gaara's father in cold blood – her late father-in-law and the paternal grandfather of her future child.

And now the creature roamed the lands east, all because of his role in ending the war.

The thought made her shudder.

Her violet eyes watched the kunoichi carefully. "What did… that snake do to you?"

"I'll show you…" Shijima said.

Hesitantly, the Hōki woman reached for the hood that covered her head from view. Pulling it down, silky sandy-blonde hair was revealed, tucked behind her ears carefully. For a moment, Nomasaki thought she was looking through a mirror. Over her eyes was a thick cloth marked by sealing jutsu, its black ink striking against the white that lay behind it. Slowly, the Hōki woman whispered a jutsu and formed a hand-sign. With deft hands as Nomasaki looked on, she untied the cloth and rested it onto the table. Opening her eyes, the Hōki woman met her startled glance with eyes marked with pure crimson.

A Sharingan.

Nomasaki could hardly contain her shock. "Is that -?"

"Yes, a Sharingan. A fake one, I should say." Shijima admitted, closing her eyes. "I was kidnapped as a child and was subject to grueling experiments I still don't completely remember. When my father and his men stormed the hideout where I was taken, everything was abandoned – it were as if that Sannin were never there to begin with." Tying the cloth over her eyes, she allowed the seal to reform and pulled over her hood – appearing as she once did. "Orochimaru gave me an incomplete Sharingan. I keep it sealed with this cloth, but even as unstable as it is… I can still see everything. It's a curse." Straightening her back, the Hōki woman met Nomasaki's bewildered expression with sternness. "My apologies, Nomasaki-sama – but I'd appreciate it if you kept this secret. I'd like to not further disgrace my family's name any further."

"I see… I understand." Nomasaki breathed, calming herself. Meeting her bodyguard's glance, she nodded. "I'm sorry." Hesitating, she averted her eyes to her water. Swallowing her hesitancy, she looked back. "And… you're alright with your younger sister being the heiress?"

Shijima sat firm. "I don't have a choice. I love my sister, and I have trust she will prove to be a good heiress with strong sons from her husband, or… consort, for lack of a better term. It would be a disgrace to the Hōki family if the heiress were to give birth to descendants carrying a failed experiment. Wouldn't you agree? You must understand the responsibility, being a heiress yourself."

Her words made Nomasaki pause.

Thinking carefully, she nodded. "I do. But… -," Her glance drifted down to her lap, sadly. "In a way, I don't understand." Emotion was cleansed of her expression as she rose her glance back to the bodyguard, meeting the Hōki's stern presence with equal measure. "I was only aware of being heiress after the return of my clan, being that the ones who hid their bloodline were of the branch family. My mother kept it secret to protect me..." A faint smile formed on her lips, averting her glance to her lap for a moment. "I never wanted this fate, but I'm going to make the best of things."

"That's fair, I suppose." Shijima agreed. "Kazekage-sama must be proud to have such a strong-willed woman as his wife. And an heiress, nonetheless… such as my sister, who he declined for you."

I can never escape that, Nomasaki reminded herself, And she didn't hesitate to bring it up.

"I didn't plan on falling in love with the Kazekage. That was pure accident." Nomasaki spoke, her voice both soft and firm. "That being said, there's never been a time where I felt the most scrutinized. I'm carrying our child, but are the elders happy? No. Before the wedding, I was used to being treated as an outsider, a traitor, half-blood, whatever else they called me… but using my pregnancy as a way to attack me is nothing short of impudent. It's not fair to me, or Gaara."

"You're a half-blood, my lady?"

Nomasaki nodded. "Yes."

Shijima let out a sigh. "Then it appears we are both women scorned."

"We women should stick together, don't you think?" Nomasaki smiled, lightly. "I'm only getting to know you, but your presence today has been… pleasant."

The Hōki woman was surprised by her choice in words, her stiffness in her chair finally relaxing. She nodded. "…Thank you, my lady."

A sudden pinch spread across Nomasaki's ribs.

Biting her lip, she held onto the spot and breathed carefully. It felt as if something was twisting inside her. "Ow…!" She spat under her breath. "That hurt…"

"My lady?" Shijima stood. "Is something wrong?"

Surprisingly, the pain faded. Nomasaki let out a sigh, and stood from her chair as cautious as could be. "Probably just a cramp. Anyways, I think we can leave our lunch. Can you escort me home?"

Shijima nodded. "Yes, my lady."

After leaving a tip for the server, the two women started for the estate.

Following close at her side, Shijima walked silently with careful watch over their surroundings. Civilians were crowding the streets, adorning every sandstone building with decorations of brilliant golds, reds, and varying shades of bronze. Masks were worn by the children who darted through the crowds, weaving through those walking with shrouds resembling demons and laughing gods – some even wore the masks of kitsune and tanuki. Nomasaki saw the holiday once before. It was Setsujin – the festival of gods and demons. An old tradition in Sunagakure, the holiday was said to be the day where the spirit world and the mortal world converged – and when vengeful gods could wreak havoc on the lives of unsuspecting humans.

Being unfamiliar with the customs herself, she never celebrated it. As a genin, Shinto and Meiyumi invited her to some of the shadow-puppet plays happening in the square. Shinto bought her a mask to wear – fittingly, a white kitsune. It was not a wolf but it was close enough. At one point, she remembered Meiyumi grabbed both her and Shinto by the hands and led them to a game stall where the prize was dango. While Gaara's assistant, Nomasaki was either too busy to attend or Kenzō forbade her from attending - even when her duties for the day were done. For the first time since her genin days, she could experience the holiday as she was supposed to – although her tiredness and incessant hunger did nothing to help.

At least the desert heat was waning.

"Why is everyone wearing masks?" Shijima questioned. "Is there some sort of holiday?"

Nomasaki nodded, a light smile on her lips as she continued on her way home. "It's a festival held once every year in Suna, the festival of gods and demons – Setsujin." She replied. "It's said that the mortal world and the spirit world are the closest during the fall equinox, so we wear masks to ward off evil spirits."

"How strange." Shijima muttered, watching the young masked children weave through the crowds in laughter. The Hōki woman turned to her. "Do you believe in these gods and demons? I don't mean to offend, my lady."

"Oh no, it's alright." Nomasaki assured. "I'm not a religious person. The only god I grew up believing was the god of death, but to worship them is to worship death itself. Only fools and the misguided would make that mistake."

Shijima sighed. "I suppose the mountains have their traditions as well."

"They do," Nomasaki chuckled. "But in a different way."

Something whispered upon the winds made her come to a pause.

Along an entrance to an alleyway, a group of small old women and gangly men clad in masks and tan-coloured desert garbs. Although Nomasaki was a fair distance away, their voices were still clear to her in what they were saying. Her chakra sense may have been dulled by her pregnancy, but her hearing and sense of smell remained attuned and heightened. No doubt they were making remarks about her, their gestures pointing towards her and her small visible bump. She heard "bewitched", "tricked", and "whore" uttered amongst them.

The one that bothered her the most was "mutt".

"Nomasaki-sama, it's best to not pay them any mind." Shijima spoke out, noticing the glares from across the street. "We should move on."

Nomasaki looked away, masking any and all sadness with a dignified calm. "You're right."

Focusing on her path home, she saw the mirage of the estate in the distance and pushed forward with Shjima close to her side. Tuning out the muttered curses under the breaths of the elder civilians, Nomasaki paid their voices no mind. She was used to those remarks by now, but being a walking target made it difficult to maintain a thick skin. She even heard rumours about Gaara on the grapevine as she passed. A tale whispered by a scattered and few voices along the streets in Suna implied that Gaara was not the son of Rasa, and was instead fathered by the son of the reigning daimyo of the Land of Wind. It was not the first time she heard the rumour, the first time being when Gaara first became Kazekage. The tale even stretched further to claim that Rasa cursed Karura intentionally by making her son a jinchuriki. Nomasaki found it hard to believe, considering how much alike her husband resembled the late Fourth Kazekage.

And how cruel their lies were - and hurtful. If Kankurō heard before Gaara did, he would surely silence them.

Another rumour she heard while on her path was that the child she carried was not Gaara's but the child of another man. "She's pregnant with some beast-man's leavings", she heard an elder whisper. Her face remained strong, unmoved. Thick skin, she reminded herself, Ignore them. Don't bare your fangs. Be a sheep.

"The crowd is dense up here," Shijima said. "We should go around, and not risk too much public attention."

"It's too late for that," Nomasaki lamented, sensing her legs grow tired. "But yes, we should take a detour."

A loud cheering and drunken banter echoed towards them.

In the centre of the plaza, dozens of masked villagers flocked to the stage where a shadow-puppet play was taking place. Unlike the kabuki plays that lasted hours in Suna, shadow-plays were short and brief – usually comedies tainted with dark intentions. Elsewhere, the shadow-plays were merely an act of fun. The roars of drunkards were of mockery, she realized. Eyeing the stage, she saw a masked man clothed as if some jester or mummer wailing without the aid of puppets. The man stood atop a large cask of wine, flapping his hands about while the crowed jeered.

"Gather around and I will tell of a tale / A thousand years between / Where a demon tricked a mortal / And a curse was unforeseen!" The man roared in laughter. "A wolf in sheep's clothing took the form of a maid / Betrothed to a lord's youngest son / The wolf revealed its beastly visage / And soon caused all to run!"

"Nomasaki-sama," Shijima spoke.

Wide-eyed and aback, Nomasaki stood in stunned quiet. Shock made her deaf to Shijima's voice, with all of her attention locked towards that stage. Against her better instincts, she kept watching at the back of the crowd.

"Ōkami are trickers and malevolent beasts / Masking their jaws behind sake cups / The wolf-demon tricked the good lord's son / Into siring her pups!" The man's voice sang. The roars of drunkards nearly drowned him out, their applause quaking the air. "Now you know this tale of woe / Of the demon who cursed the man / History bears repeating it seems / As the tanuki and the wolf have joined clans!"

A loud raucous applauding and cheers bellowed.

Frozen, Nomasaki stood with her purple eyes filled with hurt. Of all the days she could have ventured outside - it had to be the day a shouting peasant shame her before dozens. Tears crept into her throat, and sorrow soon painted her expression. She had a thick skin as always, but she did not have the Sand Armour like Gaara did. She had a human's skin. Even the skin of a beast was flesh, and flesh could be harmed – by actions or words.

Shijima intervened, blocking her view of the stage and crowd further. "My lady, this way."

Obliging, Nomasaki gave a solemn nod and followed her.

Leaving the festivities behind.

She could hardly sleep that night.

Tossing and turning, Nomasaki clung to her pillow wishing that sleep would soon arrive. But nothing came. It had been hours since Shijima escorted her back home, and near a day since she saw her husband. When she asked Kankurō, all he said was that Gaara was buried in his work – and with no assistant, he was working overtime. "And if you're talking to Meiyumi when she gets back, tell her I'm sorry," He told her. Nomasaki rose a brow, "What do you mean?" she asked. Kankurō hesitated before telling her -"I kind of forgot to mention Temari's wedding… and she stormed off to her mission before I could explain myself." Meiyumi was one to get hot-headed. "Let her cool off first," Nomasaki advised him, "Then say you're sorry. She'll forgive you. She really likes you." But when asked to tell Gaara to come home, it was met with averted eyes and an awkward nod.

He's hiding something from me, Nomasaki realized, All Gaara does is keeps secrets…

She wondered if he began to regret her.

Drifting in an out of sleep, the sound of the door opening awoke her. Rubbing her eyes, she saw a figure enter the darkened bedroom in mere silence. Her heart jumped in her chest when she saw him, nearly jolting her fully awake. "G… Gaara? Is that you?"

"I didn't think you'd be awake." He admitted.

Sitting herself on the bed, she placed her feet to the floor and her glance followed. "…Why are you avoiding me?" She pressed. "I know you're busy with your duties, but… you're keeping something from me. I know it."

"…we don't need to talk about that right now."

She stood. "Yes we do!" Tears near escaped her. "Ever since you came back from the Hōki settlement, you've been avoiding me. So please tell me, why?"

Gaara's ringed-eyes appeared surprised, even in the dark. As she stood looking up at him with her violet eyes shimmering with tears, his face soon turned emotionless. "Yes, I have my duties… but I'm not avoiding you out of spite." He chose his words carefully, it seemed. "Some things… have been said. I don't feel the need to tell them to you right now. I don't want you to be upset."

"But I am upset, Gaara!" She shuddered. "I feel… so… -,"

Comfortingly, Gaara held her in his arms.

Giving in to her tears, all the hurt she bottled down throughout the day came gushing out. Grasping his shirt tightly, she sobbed into him. She felt one of his hands move through the strands of her hair, while the other held her closer against him. Taking in his scent, she could sense his emanating warmth, protection, and love. In his arms, she always felt safe – even when feeling her most vulnerable.

"Alone… I know…" He said quietly, near a whisper. "I'm sorry…" Resting his head against hers in embrace, he sighed. "I never meant to hurt you. Being Kazekage is my duty… but sometimes, those duties require me to keep secrets from those close to me. I promise I'll tell you everything that's transpired, but first I need to come to terms with what lays in the future."

With wide tearstained eyes, Nomasaki looked up to him. "Is it Tenbu?"

Gaara hesitated a nod, averting his eyes from her pleading glance. As Nomasaki lowered her head, she felt him lift her chin so their faces could meet. "I promise." He pledged, his turquoise eyes barely visible in the dark – but she could see the hurt and devotion that lay within. "I love you. All I want is to protect you."

Closing her eyes, she nodded. Burying her face into the clothes that covered his chest, she wrapped her arms around him. Feeling his arms hold her close, she finally felt at ease. At least she would learn what it was at another time, but nonetheless she would learn. And what was all that she could ask for.

Stepping out of his arms, she stood on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek.

Before she could react, Gaara put his lips against hers. Something stirred inside her heart, moving her to put aside her grievances and take him in. Gently, she kissed him, placing her hands along his strong jaw. His hands slowly left her back, feeling the curves of her body that lay beneath the fabric of her nightrobe as they trailed down to her waist. The cold metal of his wedding band tingled her exposed skin as his hands swept over her, enticing her further. Sensing the bed behind them, Nomasaki timidly held onto the buttons of his collar as she resisted every urge to undo them.

"We shouldn't… -," He breathed.

"We should… Gaara," Her fingers pausing at the buttons of his shirt, she met his tanuki-like eyes in the night. A burning urge ached within her, her desire to have him close provoking a deep sadness that lingered behind her pleading gaze. "Please… It's been months since the honeymoon and I miss feeling you in my bed…" She whispered, her voice near quivering. "Your duties have been keeping you from me. I understand that your duty comes first, but still… I can't help but miss you being so close to me…"

Gaara stayed silent.

As his teal eyes looked down upon her, Nomasaki thought she saw something flicker behind his gaze. His hands eased their grip at her waist, trailing down the silken fabric of her nightrobe until his touch parted and the warmth he left along with it. A cold hugged her body, devoid of comfort and peace of mind. Averting his eyes from her, strands of crimson hid his expression in the dark.

"I miss you – all of you, but… -," He hesitated. Slowly, he lifted his gaze back to her, his ringed-eyes concerned. "…I don't want to hurt you, or… -,"

"It's fine," Nomasaki assured, stepping closer. She gave a soft smile, hoping it would comfort him. "I talked to Meiyumi about it when my morning sickness got better. She said it's normal for couples to continue to… do this while expecting… -,"

He flinched. "You asked her?"

She nodded. "She's my doctor - and my friend. We tell each other everything." Seeing his face turn blank and flustered, she held his hand soothingly. "Not everything, don't worry." A brief chuckle escaped her fanged smile. "I didn't tell her you're a monster under the sheets…"

Surprising her, she felt Gaara lift her hand to his lips. His kiss was as gentle as the warmth of a summer breeze, sending a tingle down her spine and causing a blush to spread across her cheeks. Even as her husband, he still rendered her shy and bashful with his stoic charm. She felt his free hand place itself onto the small of her back, pressing lightly over the thin fabric that concealed her body.

"A monster, eh?" He repeated, a smile curving on his lips.

"We're both beasts, remember?" Nomasaki blushed, meeting his eyes in the moonlit bedroom. "I'm a monster, too… only a different breed."

Gingerly, Gaara cradled her face in his hands and put his lips to hers. Her sadness melting away, she returned his affections and lay her hands upon the fabric that covered his chest, sensing the warmth that drew her in. Although his kiss was soft upon her lips, already she could feel his want for dominance emerge. Enticed, she gave in and allowed her fangs to make an appearance within her jaws as she kissed him harder. As Nomasaki felt his lips curve into a smile, he parted from her and placed a tender hand upon her cheek. His eyes were as teal as the ocean bathed in sunlight, and haunting as if a tanuki were gazing back at her. She always loved the mysterious nature hidden behind his gaze – and she knew the truth of it all, and the love he held for her in his heart.

For a moment, his tongue hesitated at the words he wanted to speak. "Are you sure about… this? Is it alright?"

She nodded.

"If I hurt you -,"

"You won't." She assured, her voice as soft as a whisper. "I trust you, Gaara. I trust you…"

Their lips met in hunger through the dim lantern light.

His hands hastily searched for her, pulling her close to his warmth while she fought every urge to grow feral. Moving his lips to her neck, his breath felt hot against her cool skin and she let out a moan tickled in laughter as she felt the sensation of his teeth brushing her ice. Already she could feel his hands untie her obi and push away the fabric that concealed her. Following his lead, her hands traveled to the collar of his fine shirt and undid the buttons that were in her way. Feeling his strong chest, she smoothly moved the shirt away and felt him and his closeness. Parting their lips in heated breaths, their clothes soon pooled to the floor behind them.

Startling her, Nomasaki felt him lift her onto the bed that lay behind bathed in moonlight. She forgot how easily he could sweep her up in his strong arms, even in her current state. To her surprise, her petite figure was still slender and feathery, save for the small bump under her silk. Meiyumi assured her that it was normal, as a woman's first pregnancy would hardly show until four months – and she was on the cusp. A wave of nerves swept into her, her heart jumping in her chest as they embraced.

Covered only by her kimono's inner silk layer of white, Gaara slowly slid a hand down to her thighs as their lips met again in lustful hunger. She let out a gasp as she felt him enter the wetness between her legs. It had been so long since he last touched her in such a way – not since before the wedding and all that soon followed. Her airy moans between breaths only proved how badly she craved it.

And now he had her bent to her will.

"Mmm," She breathed into him. "You're teasing me…"

That made Gaara chuckle. "Perhaps I am…"

His fingers delved deeper into her folds, arousing a gasp from her lips. Her clear enjoyment enticed him, his want for her only growing strong between every lust-filled breath of each kiss. Slowing down his movements inside her, he moved his other hand to her breasts and felt the perked curves beneath the silk that concealed her from the night. He felt her give a fanged smile as their lips crashed into each other – and his want for her became impossible to ignore.

"Gaara, please…" Nomasaki breathed. "I want you… I'm yours… I love you..."

That set him off.

Sitting up, Gaara cradled her face into his palms and put his lips to hers. Hungrily, she returned his affections and grasped the red hair of his head in her fingers. Before she had any time to react, she felt him lift her to her lap as the cool air of their room tickled her legs. Running his hands smoothly along her thighs, he pushed the inner layer of her dress up to her hips and felt her soft porcelain skin under his touch of rough sand.

Caressing her hips with his callused hands, he eyed her in the night. "I'm yours." He said. "Always."

Softly, her lips met his amongst the darkness. As their lips parted, he slowly pulled the silk shroud over her head. As it pooled to the floor, Nomasaki felt a shiver run down her spine. Growing shy, she held her head down and hugged her arms against her exposed human body. Golden strands hid her face from his, her heart lightly jumping in her chest.

A silence entered.

Looking upon her timidness in the scarce moonlight, he was near speechless. "You're so beautiful…"

Nomasaki felt her heart swell in her chest. Tears near formed in her eyes from his words. She was so full of comfort and love, and he had the nerve to make her feel as if she were everything to him – but she knew she was, and that was what she loved the most. Placing a hand over her small bump, she averted her glance in her sudden nakedness.

"Are you sure? I feel so… large…"

Touching her hand soothingly, he gazed deep into her eyes as she timidly looked back. "You're always beautiful. I love you, Nomasaki."

"I love you, too…" She breathed into him, putting her lips to his. Startling her, she felt the tip of his cock enter the wetness between her thighs. "Gaara… -,"

Moving against him slowly, she felt all nervousness of him seeing her disappear. If the hardness within her was any way to judge, it seemed to make her only love him more. Even with his recent absence, it did not seem to waver his affections for her. The same Gaara she fell in love with on that snowy day years ago was with her in the flesh - holding her, worshipping her, loving her. And she knew she would always feel the same for him – no matter how long she had to wait.

Rocking smoothly against his strong hips, she let out an airy gasp as she felt his teeth graze her perked breasts. Bunching his red hair into her palms, she breathed out and focused on the movement of her hips against his. As she began to slow down her rhythm, she felt his hands caress her hips and forcefully hold her down to his lap, plunging him deeper inside. Pleasure mounted within them, with Nomasaki trying her best to keep quiet even as her fangs fully emerged between heated breaths. Through her hazy vision, she saw the faint gleam of her wedding ring in the moonlight, appearing near as bright as the moon itself. Power coursed through her, her blood near coming to a boil.

And then something shattered.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders with a force near beast-like, shattering the Sand Armor that covered his body and spilling onto the bedsheets and pillows. Never had she felt pleasure in such a way, her entire body feeling as if a livewire – and Gaara was pushing her as far as she could fathom. She could feel his lips curve into a smile as she kissed him, leaving him to grasp her long gold hair into his palm tightly.

Between breaths, their lips met passionately under the moon's glow and his grip on her soft hips strengthened as time went on. Nomasaki let out a moan, unable to resist the pleasure any further. Before she knew it, her hips clenched and she erupted into a state of bliss and love. Stars painted her vision, her body quivering from the euphoria she felt. Moments later, she felt Gaara tense under her. His body jerked against hers, filling her with his seed as a husky moan escaped his lips. Strongly, his arms held her close as breathlessness found them that night.

Alarming her, Nomasaki felt Gaara shiver as she wrapped her arms around him. And then she heard a muffled sob escape him, burying his head into her shoulder. He was crying. Crying. Startling her greatly, her body froze and all of her happiness retreated, replaced by a sense of care and worry.

"G-Gaara," She spoke, her soft voice breaking the silence "What's wrong -?"

His embrace around her tightened, his callused touch of sand holding her strongly against his body. "I won't let anything happen to you… I promise on my life!" He pledged, his voice strong with conviction. "I'll kill anyone who dares to lay a hand on you, if it's the last thing I do…!" His hold eased of tension, protection emanating from his touch. "I love you, Nomasaki…"

His words surprised her.

The memory of the assassin from the market soon entered her thoughts, realizing where his actions were coming from. A Kage's life was no doubt one of great responsibility and undue stress, but a Kage's loved ones would always be at risk of becoming targets by their enemies. And I am no stranger to being a target, she reminded herself, I probably put him through hell dealing with that… all over wolfsbane and my wolfish pride. Perhaps she was a curse to him just as the kabuki play depicted, the wolf-demon who tricked a tanuki.

"I love you, too…" She said, quietly. "Gaara, you don't need to -,"

Before she could say anything more, he held her closer in his strong arms.

And the silence spoke for itself.

In her dreams that night, she found herself surround by a realm of white and silver.

Her breath turned to vapour before her, and it was then that she realized she was amongst her mountain homeland. The snow fell softly from the skies above, powdering her rosy cheeks as she walked. A rising wind flapped against her fur-collared cloak, the cold biting her half-breed skin and sending a chill down her spine. Looking around herself, she saw the frosted pine and cedar trees that surrounded the snowy meadow where she tread, shielding the mountain lands from the rest of the outside world. Winter trees broke through the expanse of white through subtle glows of red, their brilliant leaves flecked throughout the forest like stars in the night sky. In the distance, she saw the Yamamori Shrine further up ahead, its presence drawing her in. In that instance, the world was alive. She could sense the villagers and her clan, the rabbits and cave bears that roamed the wilderness, and the snow lilies that grew along the mountain slopes. Even every rock and babbling brook seemed alive.

And the wolf statue called out to her.

And a lone howl soon sounded upon the frigid winds.

Notes: Setsujin, roughly meaning "season of gods" (節神) (the holiday mentioned in this chapter) is inspired by Halloween - which was happening before I wrote this chapter - and the Japanese holiday Setsubun (節分) which is a festival that marks the first day before spring. Like Halloween/Hallow's Eve/Hallowe'en in Celtic traditions, Setsubun in Japan involves the wearing of masks to ward off evil spirits.

It might be too late in the game for this fun-fact, but I always imagined Nomasaki having a soft voice similar to Haku in the English dub.