Hiya.

13-07-2020 edit: From one perspective, this chapter looks like a filler, but it's important too—and a steppingstone to bigger and more exciting things. Enjoy! ^_^


Chapter Eight: Best Intentions.
...

Temari loved being waited on (in a domestic sense, not as a Kunoichi), so watching the strange, dark haired girl as she rummaged through cupboards, half climbed into the refrigerator and then snapped at the kettle to hurry up and boil, gave her a special kind of happy. Her temperament was fascinating to watch, and knowing that Sayuri was obviously intimidated by her, the blonde quite liked this side of the weird, unpredictable civilian. Making this girl squirm moments after meeting her had been an incomparable kind of thrill, true, but this was still nice. Back then, this girl had just been a potential fangirl, no matter how "conservative" her clothes had been. Nutcases came in all shapes and sizes after all. But she was different—the variety of things Temari could do to make her uncomfortable seemed endless.

She'd decided it might be nice to keep these kinds of people around.

Her arms crossed over her chest, she tapped her arm pensively, looking around the small apartment. It was quaint, compared to the Kazekage mansion, but she supposed, for a civilian, Sayuri and her flatmate didn't need as much room. That elusive brother of Sayuri's was apparently a samurai, and Kankuro had warned Temari that he was just a well-behaved nut job, as far as nut jobs went. He was a retired samurai, and as a result, not technically loyal to any village or country; the name Hayato Nakayama struck fear, but only in the underground. He was one of those shady characters that only did enough to stay out of the bingo books.

Not that it mattered.

"Do you prefer Jasmine Tea or Green Tea?" Sayuri called from the kitchen.

"Jasmine," Temari replied, her eyes now falling on the sofa; she'd yet to sit down, despite the offer from Sayuri, as the blonde didn't feel comfortable getting comfortable in other peoples' homes—even the new and/or temporary ones. And the Nakayama siblings had definitely made this their home, if the pictures, strewn books, and unorganised, miscellaneous objects were anything to go by.

Temari sighed in exasperation when the dark-haired girl finally re-entered the living room (carrying a single, steaming teacup) and gave her an irritated look for having not taken the offered seat. She'd rehearsed it in her head, the things she needed to say, but nothing ever came out right. She wasn't here to warn Sayuri against herself, Kankuro or even someone who could actually be negotiated or reasoned with, like for example, the council. She felt tetchy just thinking about this. This conversation was going to make her sound absolutely bat shit crazy.

Temari accepted the tea and took a sip to calm herself: Jasmine was one of her favourites, actually.

After a moment, Sakura sat down, fidgeting. "I know the whole protective, big sister routine—it's the same for brothers, and I get it all the time from Hayato. I understand where you're coming from, but..."

All of Team Seven, actually—they were an unruly bunch when it came to "protecting" her.

"I'm not trying to hurt him," Sakura said softly, meeting those dark green eyes full on. "I promise."

She'd had a crush on Gaara for years. The idea of hurting him honestly would never occur to her. But a part of Sakura was regretting this mission—he had obviously enjoyed their time together more than she'd anticipated, and the Kazekage wasn't some heartless bastard who fucked and then moved on. He was better than that. She wasn't going to part with him on good terms... call it a gut feeling. Nothing good was going to come out of this, and she hated herself for it.

Sakura had honest eyes. She wore her heart on her sleeve. And despite the colour change of her eyes to disguise her identity, she couldn't hide this. Temari smiled at her; the first genuine smile that the former pinkette had seen on her since this ridiculous mission began.

"I came here to find out what your intentions are with Gaara," Temari said tentatively. "And I get that you don't want to hurt him... It's just, his fangirls..." She trailed off, looking uncomfortable; her hands clasped her teacup almost possessively.

"I know," Sakura said. "They're insane."

The blonde laughed. "Yeah, they are. They're also dangerous."

Sakura frowned at her, not convinced, shaking her head slightly.

"Firstly, I have to know, are you going to see Gaara again?"

Sakura hadn't spoken to Gaara all day, so maybe she was reading too much into this whole fling, thing. But she wanted to see him again, regardless. "If he wants to," she said honestly.

And that was what Temari was worried about—if the decision was solely up to Gaara, she didn't see her little brother stopping any time soon. She sighed.

"Alright, then you need to be careful. Of all the bimbo fangirls," the blonde added, when her rapt audience returned to looking sceptical.

"What do you mean?"

Temari sighed, now taking the offered seat (holding her cup tightly). "A long time ago, the council made it so that the Kazekage must marry a Kunoichi. It doesn't state anything other than that, since a lot of the documents from the aftermath of the war that preceded the forming of the great nations was lost, but it's an unspoken agreement that Gaara is going to marry a Kunoichi one day, not a civilian. His fangirls fall into both categories."

"I get that."

But really, she didn't. Sakura had never understood how some nations could hold unspoken agreements up like they were holy. Arranged marriages were expected in the more noble houses—clans, close knit communities, for example—and the idea of marrying for love was a lot newer than people realised. It was sweet, but not the accepted norm for people in any kind of power. Sakura had promised herself when she was a child that she would marry for love and she found it difficult to respect those who didn't, but on some level, she understood. It would be too easy to wake up one day and realise that the world was going to leave her behind. Of all her friends, back in Konoha, she was the only one that didn't have some kind of life plan.

At this rate, she was going to end up like Kakashi. That thought alone made her want to hurry up. But she was like him—anyone she'd loved either didn't love her or died.

Sakura visibly shook herself of her morbid thoughts.

"It's politics," Temari said. She really didn't want to explain that part of it, but the meaning was clear... ish.

Sakura raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you saying that the council might do something to me?"

Temari laughed. "Dear Kami, no." Her laughter died down to a giggle—a little nervous perhaps. "The council are used to Gaara's flings and don't seem to care who he sleeps with, prior to marriage," Temari added, waving her hand in the air. "Not that he's anywhere near as bad as they claim though." She smiled. "No, you wouldn't bother them, if they actually do know about you."

Sakura nodded slowly. If she were indeed Sayuri Nakayama, and not herself, she might actually believe that story. Oh, she knew that they wouldn't approach her, threaten her or have her "mysteriously" disappear—there was no need, since she wasn't a candidate to marry Gaara—but they would definitely care about her involvement with the redhead potentially tainting the Kazekage's image. And by default, the hidden sand village. It was just good politics.

But Temari didn't know she knew how closely the councils of every hidden village probed into the love lives of their Kage (or respective leader, if not a Great Nation).

She really is trying to be nice to me.

This was weird.

"I still don't get it."

"The fact that Gaara will wed a ninja when the time comes is common knowledge amongst his fangirls. What I'm trying to say is that the Kunoichi of this village, and the female civilians, have an agreement."

Sakura baulked. "Agreement?"

Bat shit crazy.

"It's rather twisted, and I don't know the full details, but you're new, and a foreigner to boot, so kind of free-game too."

Sakura's eyes widened. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Uh," Temari rubbed her chin nervously. "Since you're a civilian, they probably won't do anything—not the Kunoichi, I mean. But the civilians will still see you as a threat to whatever it is, they agreed to with the ninja fangirls. If you and Gaara go on long enough, I'm not sure what the Kunoichi will do. Um... I feel stupid saying it like that. Please tell me you understand, so I don't have to repeat myself."

"Uh... huh."

This was insane.

Sakura nodded slowly, feeling slightly terrified now. The law about the Kaze-hime (not to mention similar ones for the other nations) was familiar to her, since she'd done Kage level paperwork before. The Mizukage was currently engaged to a Shinobi from a neighbouring nation, after all. She figured this meant that Temari was really only warning her to keep her eyes peeled, not that one of those crazy fangirls was going to murder her in her sleep.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

"But how can I be a threat to any agreement, long term?" she asked.

"I don't know," Temari said, standing up. "You're not eligible to dash anyone's hopes of marrying him, but if Gaara holds onto you as tightly as I think he's going to, they could cause trouble. Just... be safe, okay?"

Sakura had been listening to every word Temari was saying, the entire time, but was surprised by the concern in her voice.

"I believe you when you said you don't want to hurt him," the blonde reiterated, answering her silent question. "I know I didn't trust you before, and I was rude, but Sayuri—" (Sakura shuddered at that) "—you wear your heart on your sleeve, and that makes you easy to read. You really care about him, so I promise I won't be on your back anymore."

Sakura nodded. After that long-winded explanation, she was just grateful that Temari was one less thing she needed to worry about.

"I better go."

Sakura followed the blonde to the door, opening it for her. "Thank-you for coming to me, Temari."

"Thank-you for opening the door."

The gruff voice startled them both. Sakura snapped her head toward the hallway outside her apartment to find a slightly swaying Tenzou staring at them interestedly—which only made the former pinkette wonder if he was indeed drunk.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" Tenzou asked gruffly, grabbing the door frame for a moment, to balance himself. Not completely wasted, he managed to find his equilibrium a moment later, and wipe the dazed look off of his face. At least he managed to talk without slurring or stuttering.

"Temari," the blonde introduced herself, offering a hand to the samurai and watching him carefully for the signs of insanity that she'd heard of from Kankuro—not to mention Shuin as well. Speaking of which, she was getting the sneaking suspicion that Gaara had sent the ANBU who had hit on Sakura at that night club, The Zephyr, off somewhere on some long-term mission for no reason other than jealousy.

"Hayato," Tenzou grunted, grasping the blonde's hand with both of his own and turning her hand over. He peered at the lines on her palm. "Palm Reading dates back to before the forming of the Great Nations. Did you know that the first Daimyo of the land of wind loved having his fortune told?"

"No," she said, smiling at him. "I didn't."

He gave her a cheeky smirk. "Neither did his wife."

Temari gave a nervous chuckle. "Okay... goodbye."

Once Temari was gone, and the door closed, Tenzou sighed, leaning against the wall for support. "Such a pity."

"Did you just make a pass at Temari?" Sakura asked warily.

He shrugged. "Hayato likes 'em buxom."

"She's in a not-real-just-in-denial-but-is-actually-dating relationship with Shikamaru."

"Hayato doesn't know that."

"Does Tenzou?"

"Yamato."

Sakura frowned at him, wondering if he'd answer her if she asked him what his real name is. "Multiple personality disorder?"

"You develop that after years in ANBU," he said dismissively. "I was already peculiar before that."

"So, we're blaming Orochimaru, then?"

"Whatever works."

"And you're at least tipsy; in the middle of the day, I might add."

He grunted. "I just had a few—you should've seen Haruka, the Grand Master Extraordinaire!"

"Just take a pill or something, whatever you do to sober up, you stink."

"But I have information for you, my sweet, sweet, little lily."

Sakura was torn. She glanced toward the bathroom. "Shower first, shop talk later."

He shrugged and left her alone in the living room. Tenzou was having way too much fun with this mission—he had been acting peculiar from the moment they arrived, drink, or no drink.

Sakura thought about what Temari had said, as Tenzou did as he was told. She'd never thought of fangirls as dangerous before—back in Konoha, they hovered around guys like Neji Hyuuga (regardless of his "taken" status), but weren't crazy, in the psychotic sense. She couldn't do anything about it without jeopardising her cover, so Sakura decided to just let it go, for now. She just waited for Tenzou to finish instead—they made weekly reports that the wood master would then send off to Naruto, but if Tenzou had found out something important, they'd probably be contacting him sooner.

She looked up from her position on the couch when Tenzou finally exited the bathroom and stood up.

"What did Temari want?" He asked, still drying his hair as he stared at her pointedly. He looked sober...

"To warn me that Gaara's fangirls are insane."

"You already know that."

Sakura smiled weakly. "Yeah, but this is on a whole other level, apparently."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I decided I'd jump off that bridge when I come to it."

"Don't you mean cross that bridge?"

She shrugged. "My way is more appropriate."

"Well whatever, we should pool what we've learnt so far."

Sakura nodded silently in agreement, following Tenzou's example as he sat on the living room couch.

"My contacts hang around the dojo mostly, so that's where I've been spending most of my time." He pulled out an envelope, opening its contents.

"They love you over there," Sakura said, fiddling with the pictures now strewn across the coffee table. "They stood there and let you photograph them?"

He grinned at her. "Yep: they were group photos, so no-one got suspicious."

"Oh, and look!" She snapped up a picture, showing Tenzou, and some blonde—she looked like an overpriced whore. "Here's you and Miss July!"

"She's a contact."

"Since when do whores know any politics?"

"Escort," he corrected her, swiping the photo back. "And you'd be surprised what men will tell a naked, beautiful woman."

Sakura frowned at the picture as Tenzou replaced it on the coffee table, feeling annoyed as her mind went straight to Gaara. That was what she had done to him, but he'd said nothing. She was just so clueless. "What did she tell you?"

"That the Kazekage's brother is good in the sack."

She laughed. "Kankuro?"

"Okay, so nothing substantial came from The Candy Suite, but it's still early."

"Great name for a brothel."

"Fascinating," he agreed. "But what I found out today is much more interesting—apparently, the Kazekage really isn't happy with his alliance with the leaf, and he might just be looking to replace Konoha."

Sakura let out a shuddering sigh and sat back against the couch. Her heart was pounding as she gripped a cushion tightly. This was too much. "How sure are you that Gaara is looking for other allies?"

"My contact at the dojo told me."

"But he's just a civilian," Sakura insisted. "What would he know about—"

"Sakura," he interrupted, and she let out another shuddering sigh. "Basic rule of covert espionage?"

"Civilians always know more than you think?"

He chuckled. "Not always, but often: civs from hidden villages at least." He sighed. "There's someone the Kazekage is communicating with, someone that has necessitated the need for a civilian liaison—my contact's son just got promoted from personal assistant to a councillor, to inter-civil advisor to foreign liaisons. He'll be a part of it, when this all goes down."

Sakura nodded silently, trying not to cry. She'd worked hard over the years, not to turn back into her former, blubbering self, and until now, it had worked. She needed to get a handle on her emotions; turning her head away from Tenzou, Sakura bit her bottom lip, hard—her eyes were stinging, but that was all that happened, thankfully.

"I know you don't want Gaara to be the enemy," the wood master added sympathetically. "But if he is, then he is—there's nothing we can do about that."

Sakura fingered the cushion in her hands, refusing to answer Tenzou. But he saw through her forced calm.

"With that in mind," he said. "Maybe you should spend less time with him: just back off from your mission for a while."

Sakura scowled at him. "Even if I wanted or agreed to do that, don't you think he'd be a bit suspicious that I suddenly avoided him? Technically, I do work for him."

Tenzou smiled. "It's interesting how desperately wanting something can make even the lamest excuses seem justified."

"It's not lame, I do work for him."

"Technically."

He chuckled as she groaned.

"We need to contact Naruto with this," he said. "I'll do it—you get some rest."

...

As soon as he was sure Sakura had fallen asleep, Tenzou started writing his letter to the Hokage. The former pinkette was more exhausted than she'd let on, worrying herself over what was going to happen with Gaara. And this in turn worried him. Naruto had asked that he keep him informed about Sakura's interest in Gaara. The blonde acted like an idiot a lot of the time, but he knew Sakura better than anyone, so wasn't blind to her three year-long crush on Gaara—despite having never seen the two of them in the same room before. It was a head scratcher, but Tenzou trusted he knew what he was doing.

Their weekly check-ins with the Hokage were via the summoning toads that Naruto would send to the apartment, so anything they needed to send to him outside of their scheduled contact would be difficult—it wasn't like they could risk using Suna provided messenger hawks, for example. But he'd decided upon their arrival in Suna that his Wood Clone would have to do. It wasn't without its risks, given everything, but he was positive he could make it work. This one would be a little different, as it needed to sneak out of Suna, and he would be transforming it, to hide its identity, but he believed he had the plan down pat.

The same thing went for the letter itself.

Civilian contact has confirmed fears. However, investigation is ongoing, as contact has only circumstantial proof. Unknown, new player may be evidence needed. Will keep advised.
T/S.

Short, but sweet.

The lack of attention and names on the letter was important. When he was in the ANBU, Tenzou remembered writing letters even more vague than this. But it wasn't finished yet. So, as a friend and not as a suspicious colleague (yet concurring with his Hokage's personal request), Tenzou added in postscript to the end of the coded message to keep him apprised of Sakura's growing affections for Gaara:

p.s. Additionally, S is concerned for his well-being. Interest is increasing. d.s.

That was cryptic enough, he supposed—the S, was clearly Sakura, and his, being Gaara. He trusted that Naruto could figure that out. Still, things were going to get complicated on the Gaara/Sakura front, and that was one thing that Tenzou found himself mentally questioning Naruto over. This wasn't going to end well.

Tenzou had just finished encoding his message and rolling it up when he felt a chakra spike heading toward the apartment—well, the hallway outside at least—and he paused, to see if it would pass. It didn't. The chakra that had now stopped on the other side of the door was powerful, and he guessed it was the Kazekage. He knocked lightly; Tenzou hid his message scroll in his room, checked on Sakura, to confirm that she was still asleep and quickly moved to the door to open it. Feigning surprise came easily to him, so he decided that was the best reaction to seeing Gaara standing there, looking nervous, despite his stoic façade.

Tenzou didn't bother to ask him why he was here; he kept the door open, but didn't move out of the way for Gaara, if he decided to enter. "She's asleep."

"I see." Gaara looked past him. "May I come in?"

Tenzou grunted, stepping aside.

Gaara was quick to enter before the door was closed behind him. This was uncomfortable, even for him. He looked around, not concerned that this weird former samurai hadn't even offered him a beverage. He had no idea why he was here. He just wanted to see Sayuri, figure out where they stood now, and try not to sound like a woman as he did so. There was no future for them, considering her civilian status, and he found that knowledge more painful than the idea of sitting through one of Kankuro's "infamous" poetry readings.

"What's wrong with you?"

The samurai's sudden question startled him. "Excuse me?"

"You're a handsome man, apparently," Tenzou said. "You could have anyone you wanted. Why would you go after a civilian? The Kazekage has always married a ninja, not a civ, so why would you bother getting involved with one?"

Annoying the Kazekage probably wasn't the smartest move, but Hayato was reckless like that. Tenzou smiled inwardly at that—Sakura had been spot on about him enjoying this persona too much. It had served him well in the past, and he sure as hell wasn't going to change it now. Besides, even if he got clapped in chains overnight for his disrespect, he could handle it—what was temporary incarceration to a former ANBU? So, he was going to have fun with this situation.

Gaara frowned, letting his eyes drift over the quaint apartment once more. I should've left right away.

He sighed, refocusing his attention on the samurai, who was staring at him oddly.

The Kazekage didn't answer him, and Tenzou sighed, letting it go. Given that Gaara was not an idiot in disguise (unlike Naruto—and Tenzou would loyally deny that statement, even on his deathbed) he knew that the Kazekage was not as easily scared as the Hokage, but he put his best scary face on as he spoke dangerously, yet eerily calm to the Kazekage.

"I trained with some Kirigakure ninja a few years back, so I know a few of their water jutsu—perfect against sand." He gave a twisted smile as Gaara's eye twitched. "So, don't break her heart, okay?"

XXX

...

AN: Now wasn't that the perfect big brother speech? ;) Lotsa love! ^_^

R&R.