Chapter 58
Midnight

As occurrences of Tenbu assassins began to slowly spread to various outposts within the Land of Wind, their shadows soon spread.

Sunagakure stepped up their border security in the weeks following the encounter with Tenbu in Konohagakure. Dotted along the towering cliffs that shielded the village from the elements, dozens of Suna ANBU were posted at every nearly every corner, while a scattered amount of troops patrolled along the village streets, scanning the area thoroughly for invaders and assassins alike.

Although the Kazekage Clan lived far within vast desert, their descendants were unknown and scarce, meaning Tenbu's prime targets were within the heart of Suna - the Fourth Kazekage's legacy, the famed Sand Siblings who gained their notoriety during the Konoha Crush mission many years ago. Following the reports of similar assassins being discovered in their lands, the Kazekage's mansion began to become heavily guarded by ANBU, making it near impregnable to the outside.

"Remember, if you see any of those men… attack on sight!"

Tenbu were indeed a group hellbent on taking over the previous niche of the Akatsuki, and their political motives were beginning to become disruptive.

Darkness soon came.

Late into the night, sitting on her bed with a book cracked open, Nomasaki began to grow more tired as the clock ticked past midnight. She was only ten pages away from reaching the story's end, but her sleep was beginning to make an appearance – interrupting her focus however briefly. While her internal struggle with disappointment showed no sign of resistance, she often felt some form of comfort by grazing through the pages of the vast amount of novels that cluttered upon her shelf. To some degree, it offered a decent distraction from her unpredictable wolfishness that sprang at each opportunity to throw her off-balance. Still – one month later - she was unable to fully change form willingly.

Remembering the object across from her, she lifted her gaze towards the front of the room. Across from her upon her nightstand, the gift she received from Gaara was sitting idly upon the desk – the sand inside of its glass prison swirling smoothly as her eyes examined it from afar. Wondering to herself if she would ever have to use it, the memories of Tenbu and her burning wound pulsed through her, chilling her. As she felt her eyes grow heavy with approaching sleep, she could not bring herself to focus on the book laid out before her, surrending her head to rest upon the blankets at her lap, dozing off on her hand.

Jolting her awake, she sensed a cold desert wind enter through her open window, causing her to rise with a flinch. Swirling from the rising winds, a stream of sand blew through almost instantly. Alerting her immediately, she sensed his warm familiar chakra enter the room, surprising her in the night. Within a wisp of wind from the drawn curtains, the sands slowly took the form of Gaara. At such a late hour at night, the Kazekage was her guest.

"Ah!" She hopped towards the window, closing it to stop the draft, placing her novel upon the windowsill. Lightly, she chuckled to herself from his surprising arrival. "You startled me!" Tiredly, yet with adoration and cheerfulness within her gaze, she looked up at him within her darkened bedroom. "I thought you weren't coming over until tomorrow. Didn't you say you had some council business to take care of?"

Longing in his stoic and calm eyes, he gazed into hers of warm lilacs, a soft smile forming on his lips as he stood before her. "I couldn't wait," He spoke, quietly. "I had to see you."

Warmly, she smiled up at him. For a brief moment, he stared at her, intently, as the moonlight filled the room in illuminating fragments of night. As she could feel his mysterious ringed-eyes gazed deep into her timid glance, she could feel her face begin to redden. Even from a mere glance, she felt defenseless in the most comforting way.

"Can you… be still?" He asked, in hush tones, his expression seeming timid. "I would like to… try something. Is that… okay?"

Blushing and nervous, she nodded. "Y-Yes."

For a brief moment, he hesitated, pondering how exactly he was going to proceed. As he found himself getting lost in her wondrous violet eyes, he felt his unwavering longing for her take the forefront of his mind – his heart pounding with desire as they stood only breaths apart from another. In that moment, he could not hold himself back any longer. Closing his eyes, his lips softly met hers. As they parted with a breath, she returned the favor as gentle as could be, placing a soft palm upon his warm cheek. Taking another silent breath apart, he held the back of her head as their lips met once more, his fingers gingerly grasping the strands of golden silk while his idle hand trailed to her waist, feeling its alluring and subtle curve. Letting him know the feeling was definitely mutual between them, she brought herself closer to him as she softly placed her lips upon his, her delicate fingers running through his hair of crimson as she fought the internal urge to have her fangs make an appearance from their rising passion. The insurmountable excitement building within her fluttering chest was provoking her wolfishness, and the desire to become all that she was grew with each moment she spent in his arms.

She took the risk.

Their foreheads touching as their lips parted, Gaara looked deeply into her eyes that night. Her face blushing as she stood in his arms, her heart raced in her chest from his embrace and from the draft that entered through the window. The moonlight that entered was their only source of light in the darkness, the bed exerting its gravitating presence behind them. As he stroked the side of her soft face with his callused fingers, he came in contact with the long strands of gold that fell over her shoulders. In the moonlight, her hair shone as if woven silk. Intertwined in his fingers, he near became lost in his fascination. With her hands around his neck, she timidly inched herself closer.

"Gaara, you can... touch me."

Her voice was as gentle as a whisper. Surprising him, his glance in her eyes froze with his ringed-eyes wide in nervousness. He felt as if he could combust at that moment. She was looking up at him with her eyes of gentle lilacs, her soft face illuminated by the moonlight. In only moments, he found himself lost within her. Taken aback by her timid plea, he was unsure of what she meant.

"Touch... you?" He repeated, silently. "Nomasaki–,"

"I was... never touched before," She confessed, her timid eyes glistening with desire and longing. "You were never touched either..." Softly, he felt her place her palm over his. "Here, let me... show you..."

Gingerly, she guided his hand from her cheek and slid it down the smooth material of her blue silken robe. Startling him inside, he felt the soft curve of her breast as he grazed the fabric with his fingers, and with her gentle guide, she took him further. Her eyes gazing into his as they stood only breaths apart, she slid his palm down to the curve of her waist. Swallowing his nervousness as he relaxed his hands upon her, he felt the shape of her hips, the gentle touch of her hand over his assuring him that it was alright. Timidly, her palm guided his further below towards the soft curve of her backside. The feel of her in his palm near made him breathe aloud from the sensation, never having touched a woman – or any woman – and so intimately. The pleading glance her glistening violet eyes gave him only made his want for her stronger. Desire suddenly flowed into his thoughts, shutting out the nervousness as his grip upon her strengthened.

With a sudden force, he kissed her amidst their passionate embrace, surprising her from his change in dominance. As she wrapped her arms around him, she could feel him push her down onto her mattress, their bodies pressed against each other on top of the blankets. As things became heated, he found his hands straying to her waist as his throbbed for hers, holding her tight against him as his lips continuously crashed into hers with no sign of stopping. Her breaths growing heavy in between their passionate kisses, she traced her fingers along his jawline while she could feel him press against her with his unhinged desires. As if in a single night, the calm and collected Kazekage had unraveled.

His clothed body felt so warm to her as he lay over her on the bed, his strong and gentle hands exploring her cautiously under her robe's cover as they became lost in another. His fingers timidly grazed over the cotton fabric of her underwear, relaxing upon the soft skin of her waist. To him, her skin was as smooth as porcelain itself and surprisingly cold to the touch. At the back of his mind, he worried that he would break her in his hold. Trailing, her delicate ivory fingers found their way to the buttons of his shirt, undoing the first few before one of his kisses upon her made her gasp from the rising passion. His skin was so warm, so comforting, and so gravitating. She could not stop thinking about how she fantasized of him, and now he was there. Caressing her skin on her bed, her body ached for him to go further.

It was at that moment where she decided she wanted all of him.

She was becoming overwhelmed with the fire that was burning within her, a strange feral hunger awakening within her blood. Without thinking, as she lay submissive under him, she led his hand over the smooth fabric of her silk robe again, wanting him to free her from her clothes that bound her. Caressing the smooth fabric of her full chest, his palm traced over a soft curve as his hand slipped inside. Cupped under his sand-ridden palm was her breast – smooth, cold, and perked from his touch. Her heart raced inside as she felt his strong hand glide over her skin beneath the shield of her silken robe.

She was near certain that he could sense her trembling heartbeat.

Feeling her soft skin on his fingers, he flinched, his lips parting from her suddenly. Meeting his wide eyes, she was lost on breath, speechless from it all. Pausing, he backed away from her, turning and sitting on the edge of her bed, his feet upon the cold floor. Sitting up on the sheets, she looked to the back of his burgundy shirt that was facing her, sensing a disconnect as concern entered her pleading eyes.

"Gaara," She spoke, confused. "What's wrong?"

In silent embarrassment, he closed his eyes while averting his glance from her, shame painting his solemn expression. Feeling a cold draft upon her chest, she glanced down and realized her position. Her robe was beginning to slip from her shoulders, her breasts nearly exposed to him in the night. Flinching timidly, she swiftly fixed her robe, pulling her obi tight in its knot. As he continued with his silence, she edged closer to him on the bed, her lilac eyes worried for the sudden stop of his affections.

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry," He spoke, quietly, not meeting her glance. Opening his eyes, he averted his gaze to the side, his glance narrowed in shame. "I'm… afraid…–," His words trailed, unable to finish his explanation.

"Afraid?" She repeated, curiously. "Afraid of what?"

Swallowing the last of his remaining pride that night, he gave in to her pleas for answers – exposing himself and his fears in the process. "I'm afraid of being… intimate…" He confessed, his tone quiet. "I was never… in this position before… What if I… hurt you? I would never be able to forgive myself if I did…"

Slightly surprised by his words, she looked upon his back with a sympathetic glint to her lilac eyes. "Gaara…"

"I've been trying to overcome it since we returned from Yama, but…–," He held his head down, shamefully. "I never thought I would be with someone this way at all, or would even want to be with someone physically… But with you," Turning to meet her glance, his saddened gaze locked onto her gleaming lilacs before him, his seafoam eyes pained and full of shame and deep longing. "I would do anything."

His words surprising her, she gently smiled at him. "Hey," She cooed, as she placed her hands on his shoulders, comforting him. "It's alright, I understand. I'm nervous too, but… we can get past this, together."

Humbled, gave a subtle nod, relieved of her understanding and grace. A small smile on his face in a near playful nature, he glanced towards her. "Don't tell Kankurō." He joked, almost whisper-like. "I mean it."

"I won't! Why on earth would I do that?!" After a quiet laugh, Nomasaki moved in closer towards him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I… might have an idea… to, um… try to make you more comfortable."

"What's that?"

Looking down in her thoughts, she blushed vividly at the thought. "Sleep with me, just for tonight," She whispered, her soothing breath caressing his ear. "I know you still have your

struggles with insomnia, and I asked last time, but…–,"

To her surprise, he softly kissed her forehead in the silence. Looking deep into her wide eyes, he nodded, smiling warmly at her flustered expression. "Okay."

As she made her way into the bedsheets, Gaara laid down on the blankets as he did that time while they were in Yama together, resting his head on the pillow next to her. "I'm… not ready to try sleeping in the blankets, but I can hold you, like last time."

"As long as you're comfortable, I'm happy."

While he could feel her curves nest beside him, he began to feel hot in the face, faintly blushing from her sleepy closeness. Wrapping his arms around her, he noticed her skin was not only soft, but slightly cold to the touch, as if it were the smoothest and most comforting ice.

"Your skin," He said. "It's cold."

"Hm?" She turned. "I've never noticed. You desert-folk are more sensitive to the cold, anyways."

"Desert-folk?"

Sleepily, she chuckled to herself. "It's what we called anyone from the Land of Wind, when I grew up in Yama. Hanone would call you that all the time to me."

Sadness entering her eyes momentarily, she remembered her late wolf guardian. His thick white fur, the presence of his protective chakra – her comrade. Because of him and his sacrifice, she was able to survive the war. Not a day has passed since where she had not thought of him – and she wondered what he would think of her current state. Would he consider her a failure – or would he have offered some form of guidance? Her lilac eyes enveloping with shame and sorrow, she became lost in her thoughts.

"I know it's been more than two years since, but... I miss him…"

For a moment, Gaara thought to himself, feeling her grief and sorrow from her great loss. Although he did not quite like Hanone or what he had to say at times, he acknowledged that the wolf meant a great deal to her. Resting his head on the pillow beside her, he turned to her, sympathetically gazing into her eyes, hoping to ease her pain somehow. "We don't exactly have a word for your people here," He replied, changing the subject back to its main path. "Since Yama was isolated and we had little contact."

"What do you call others not from the desert, then?" She asked, looking up at him with a soft smirk. "Anything at all?"

"'Foreigner'."

Noticing how comfy and at ease she appeared in the blankets beside him, he could not help but gently smile to himself in awe. Even just being close to her was enough to fill him with content. Remembering what his late uncle Yashamaru spoke to him as a child, love was indeed something precious, he thought.

"Or in your case, we can now say… 'mountain-folk', if that's alright."

While she gave a comforted smile as she lay enveloped in the blankets with her back towards him, his glance grew concerned as he averted his eyes – pondering about the mysterious attack that occurred in Konoha over a month ago. Although she appeared calm and at ease within the sheets at his side, he could feel her subtle trembling – wondering if she was still struggling with control over her Kekkei Genkai. His curiosity getting the better of him, he brought himself to ask his question.

"I've never asked, but… how are you able to sense things?"

Catching her attention from the beckoning comfort of sleep, she turned to him groggily. "Hm? You mean my sensory skills?" Seeing his nod, she turned her back towards him, her eyes narrowing in self-pity. "I've never really thought about it because it's so second-nature… but I think it's the same as the animals, so nature energy, I suppose."

Pushing her troubling thoughts to the backburner of her mind, albeit briefly, she lightly smiled to herself, taking in the comforting and strong chakra that surrounded her in her bed from her visitor. It filled her scattered senses with warmth and peace, distracting her from the unnerving reality in which she was trapped. The fire to her ice, the sand to her snow – the complete opposite from another, yet still so meant to be.

"It requires precise chakra control. If I can't control it, I revert to my wolf form… so I always have to concentrate." Remembering her scarred wound, she gazed down at her faded mark upon her forearm, her eyes narrowed at its imperfect and burgeoning impact. "I… still haven't been able to control my Kekkei Genkai since that day… My sensory skills have turned patchy, my wolfishness makes unwarranted appearances – it's awful. Each day, it's been getting easier, but…–," Her words trailed, frustration entering her strained throat. "I can't maintain my transformation for long. I become stuck within the change, my blood boils and I…–,"

Sensing her quivering sadness, he gave her an empathetic glance from his seafoam eyes. "Is that how you're able to sense me?" He asked, silently, hoping to detract from her silent upset. "Even as my sand?"

After giving a gentle nod, her expression grew worried under the cover of her blankets. "I noticed the Kazekage's mansion being under tight surveillance as of late. Tenbu… I hope we're able to put an end to them before something terrible happens."

"You have nothing to worry about, they're not after you." He assured. "Even so, they're nothing but mere bandits with a vendetta against my family."

"They could be after me," She answered. "That weapon they used nullified my powers. For all I know, they could be. As for you…–," Flipping over to face him, her concerned lilac eyes met his gaze, despite his attempt to ease her thoughts. "I worry about you. Just because you're the Fifth Kazekage doesn't mean I won't stop worrying about you in times like these."

"No matter how many times I tell you not to worry?"

Gingerly, she placed her cold palm upon his cheek, nodding once as she gazed into his ringed-eyes. "I will always worry about you, because I care about you." She whispered, preparing for sleep. "I love you."

Surprised by her choice in words, he felt warm inside – her touch soothing and assuring all at once. Gently, he smiled to himself, placing his hand on hers. "I love you, Nomasaki." He whispered. After a shared moment in tenderness, he gave a brief sigh in approaching tiredness – his insomnia finally catching up to him. "You should go to sleep. You need your rest."

Turning over in the bed, she glanced at him for a moment, a playful light smile curved upon her lips. "And you? Where will you go? I'm not sure if you're the real 'Gaara' or just a clone. Should I open the window?"

Very briefly, a silent chuckle escaped his lips, amused by her questions. "I'll try my best to… stay here." He replied, his tone quiet. "Sleeping isn't exactly easy for me. In case I can't stay for long, I will say…–," Curiously, as she turned her head to meet his gaze within the darkness of the night, he gave her a gentle smile. "Goodnight."

Humbled by his words, she turned back to her side of the bed, a smile of warmth and comfort etched upon her face as she welcomed the approach of sleep. For all but a moment, she forgot about the boiling blood under her skin.

Allowing herself to enjoy her humanity for another night.

Dawn soon arrived.

When Nomasaki awoke that morning, she stirred amongst the sheets with a fang-riddled yawn of her jaws. Turning over in the bed, her fingers grazed the cold texture of the blankets beside her. Startling her, she touched nothing - only the space between. Sitting up with a nimble stretch in her wrinkled robe, there was not a trace of him left in her bed except for the tiny grains of sand in his place. With wide lilac eyes, she examined the grains in her palm, letting them slip smoothly through her fingers. Although unable to sleep himself, he still stayed with her as long as could – whether he was a Sand Clone or not. It humbled her, in a way.

Sighing to herself, she slid out of bed and started towards the hall. As she walked past the window, something gleamed at the corner of her eye. Pausing, she turned towards it. To her surprise, there was a tiny plump cactus on the windowsill dotted with glistening blue blossoms. A rare and beautiful find, she could tell that it was the cactus species from the Land of Frost they talked about on their first date. Humbled, she smiled to herself from the surprise gift. Catching her attention, she noticed something was nestled beside it in its pot – a note. Opening it, she read its contents to herself in a hushed tone.

"This is for you – Happy Birthday. See you soon. From the desert-folk… Gaara."

Flattered, she warmly smiled to herself, catching a flush of reddening upon her cheeks. He truly was a thoughtful man, she thought. Although she only mentioned the date as an afterthought, she was honored that he remembered despite it all. Turning twenty was off to a great start. Not only had she survived a war, she managed to live past the fatal ripe age of a shinobi emerging adulthood - cheating death for yet another year. Although her bones ached for the cold of winter, her skin was growing accustomed to the warm winds of spring, beckoning her towards the faint sunlight of her room.

Turning, she placed the note by the cactus and walked towards her closet at the corner of her darkened room. Opening its worn handles with a slight creak, her lilac eyes suddenly turned

ashamed. Staring ahead at her mission attire, her tracker-nin mask was snarling back at her, facing her in its menacing and mysterious expression. Its shape likened to that of a wolf, with pointed ears, elongated snout, and slanted eyes, it struck a chord within her – to be reminded of the failure she was. Her tracking unit comrades often called her by the moniker 'the Wolf of the Desert', but as of late, she felt the name was inappropriate. Donning her black shirt, she adjusted its long sleeves, grazing over the tear she sewed when she returned from Konoha – the sting of her scarred wound echoing through her mind as she merely touched its threaded texture. After putting on her pants, she zipped her flak jacket and stepped towards her nightstand, directing her attention towards the flask of sand. Grasping it, she placed it into her satchel, and stepped back towards her closet.

Reluctantly, she placed her snarling mask on her porcelain face.

Prepared for her next mission…