The Life and Times of the Kazekage's Assistant

Disclaimer:I don't own Naruto. This story is inspired by a novel by Lauren Weisberger. I do own Tsubasa Imamura, any other OCs in the story, the designer labels and names of the magazines/newspapers, and the plot.

Author's Note: Here you go ;)

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Truth Shall Set You Free

Temari's office walls were blood red in color, her favorite shade of crimson. I couldn't help but feel slightly squeamish at the thought of my own blood on her walls, blending so well that no one would even know it was my DNA splattered upon them after she killed me.

She sat at a grand ebony desk, antique in its craftsmanship. Pristinely polished fingers strummed against the darkish wood as she awaited my approach. My feet, heavy and leaded, forced themselves to tread forward against the glare of her critical eyes.

Though she sat in the midst of a fiery lake, she herself was cold and calculating. Her mind was potentially buzzing with countless ideas of how she could finish me off, which would be the most unbearable for me and which would be the most pleasant for her.

I clutched my letters from Kiba and the messages from the blackmailers in my trembling hand, slowly lifting them upward with each agonizing step I took closer to my demise. At last, I placed them onto the desk, sliding them toward Temari.

Arching an eyebrow, she accepted them. She read quietly to herself, reading over every word slowly and cautiously as to not miss anything within them. When she was done, she placed them back into their respectable envelopes and set them down.

Elbows propped by the desk, her hands folded and she placed her chin upon them. "I see we have a dilemma here, don't we?" she asked, but I knew better than to answer. It was rhetorical, and by answering I'd only be forcing myself deeper into the six foot hole I had dug myself.

Instead, I was silent and waited for her to continue. For several moments, she just stared at me, peeling my very flesh off with her melting eyes, and then she spoke again. "You've come to the right person for this situation. Had you gone to my brother, Kankuro, he would have laughed it off or sent some nude photos of himself to the blackmailer, creating an even greater problem than there already is. And had you gone to my youngest brother… Well, I'm not quite sure how he would react. You've placed him in a position of ridicule."

Again, I kept my words and thoughts to myself. That was the incorrect choice because then she demanded in a raised voice that made me quiver, "Have you nothing to say for yourself, you stupid, stupid girl?"

The words cut through me like a vicious hiss of wind. They almost knocked the very breath out of me, whipping me.

I got to my knees, bowed my head out of shame and respect for her and said, "Please forgive me! I know I have shamed Lord Kazekage! I'm not worthy of his assistant! I am not worthy of him!"

Hot tears welled in my eyes and streamed down, eddying around the features of my face. They had broken free of the dam I'd stored them in for such a long time, and I was unable to stop the deluge.

I bit them back as much as I could, choking on my own sobs.

"Suck it up," hissed Temari. "You're a shinobi. Act as one."

Trembling lips sealed themselves together and not a whimper escaped as I stood. I nodded my head in compliance and wiped my swollen eyes of the remnant tear stains.

"Listen carefully," she spoke with a severe tone, "this is what's going to happen. I am going to mop up this disgraceful piss puddle you've wet us all with. However, you're going to scrub the piss from your own skirt and cleanse yourself. What I mean by that is that you're going to lift that pathetic heap of misery you call yourself, walk into Gaara's office and tell him yourself what it is you've done to further complicate his already difficult life. You're going to explain to him why it was so important for you to risk ruining his reputation just so you could swap saliva with a dog. When the episode is over, I will call in an ANBU to analyze the messages."

Again, I nodded. I tried to collect myself, to muster courage and dignity. I don't think I had an ounce of either at that moment, but I did feel horrifyingly regretful and afraid about what I'd done.

She led me out the door, holding it open not out of kindness but to bore two decisively hateful holes in my back with her eyes as I treaded down the winding corridor. Closely, she followed behind me to ensure that I would be fulfilling her conditions.

Average-paced steps were guiding me to the Kazekage's office. I would have walked slowly if not for fear of Temari scolding me again. I'm sure she was holding back the brunt of her frustration to maintain a professional composure. I didn't want to try her patience with me.

I avoided eye contact with Matsuri or Kanoka as we walked through toward Gaara's office. In a single, devastating glare, Temari turned to them and said, "Get out." Wordlessly, they lifted from their seats and quietly left the room.

"What's going on, Temari?" asked Kankuro as he poked his head out from the small kitchen area. He had likely been fixing himself a snack. It wasn't like him to flirt shamelessly on an empty stomach.

"Stand out front and guard the door. I don't want anyone eavesdropping."

"Sure," he offered. Kankuro didn't argue this time, sensing Temari's graveness about her. She was serious, and he knew it. He wasn't going to question her request.

Temari then cut in front of me, knocked on the French doors once and said, "It's Temari. Something urgent has come up."

"Come in," Gaara's voice reached from behind the draped doors.

"Go on," she said, giving me an aggressive sort of nudge.

Awkwardly, I stumbled into the office. When I heard Temari seal the doors behind me, I began to drift slowly. I was having an out of body experience, no longer in true control of my physical form. I was a misguided spirit, floating as I observed the scene unfold between us.

"Is something wrong?" Gaara asked. He rose to stand immediately out of concern. "Imamura-san, are you unwell?" He approached, reaching out slightly, but I withdrew. It must have been out of shame.

"She isn't ill," Temari said, "but something most certainly is very, very wrong. Tsubasa has something to inform you of." I didn't sense malice in Temari's voice anymore. All I could sense was her great concern for her brother. That's when I realized that she wasn't necessarily forcing me to tell Gaara the truth as punishment. She just felt that it was better for him to hear it from me rather than to read it in some skewed tabloid. It was her sisterly instinct to care for him.

That wasn't to say she wouldn't remember to loathe and detest me once she'd felt her job catering to Gaara was completed. She would incinerate me later. It wasn't a threat. It was a promise.

A frown formed at Gaara's face as his eyes filled with worry. I hadn't seen him so fretful and apprehensive since he had the council meeting in which they told him that it was necessary for him to produce an heir. "Imamura-san, what's going on?"

Deep breath. Don't panic. This is only going to be about thirty minutes of your life—your pathetic, meaningless, worthless, you-should-do-everyone-a-favor-and-kill-yourself life.

My relatively good relationship with Gaara, the one I'd worked so hard to build, would be gone after this truth-telling. I supposed that it was an expected result and consequence of my thoughtless actions.

Horrified, my lips parted to speak. I cringed when I heard my voice. "Lord Kazekage, I've received some blackmail," I began, handing him my letters from my unknown enemy and the messages exchanged with Kiba from earlier.

He unfastened the manila folder and gradually removed its contents, bit by bit. First, he looked at the pictures of Kiba and I. He looked for what felt like a very, very long time. It could have been that he was checking for signs of falsity.

Glancing upwards, he asked, "Are these doctored?"

"No," I heard myself reply.

Something flashed within those teal eyes, and my very soul cried out, writhing painfully within me. Was it hurt or disappointment? Perhaps it was both, but he collected himself quickly.

"I see," he said and returned his gaze to the pictures once more to study them. When he had drawn from them what he wanted, he set them down upon his desk and moved on to the messages they sent me.

Those moments seemed eternal in their passing, like I'd be stuck in them forever to feel the anxiety, the lament.

His eyes went to the next messages, the ones between Kiba and me. "When were these exchanged?"

"This morning," I replied.

He sighed as he placed everything back into the manila folder. His fingertips lifted to his temples. He began to massage them slowly, hoping to relieve himself of the unease and the disconcertment of what my actions had caused.

I heard Temari clear her throat and turned my attention to her. "Explain yourself," she mouthed.

"Kazekage-sama, I am so deeply sorry for what I've done. I realize that I've put you at risk as leader of this village. My actions were selfish and inconsiderate. I-I'm not even sure why I did that. I should have known better—I do know better, but against my better judgment, I failed you."

No response to me was made. His eyes had closed, fingers still circulating the pressure-filled areas near them. "Temari, retrieve an ANBU member to analyze the letters. We must make sure first that Inuzuka isn't the blackmailer. The handwriting needs to be compared. After the operative is finished, assign him to shadow Imamura and watch for the one responsible for these letters. Are there any other leads we may have on the blackmailer?"

"Tsubasa?" called Temari.

"Whoever it is broke into my room. He or she went through the door of my back patio, but didn't leave anything behind."

"The ANBU will need to check for fingerprints then," Temari said, "I'll request that as well."

"Good," replied Gaara. At last he opened his eyes and removed his hands from his face. He turned to me, staring me in the eyes. "This is quite a predicament. We can do nothing but adhere to what the blackmailer has requested to prevent this from leaking out to the press. Tomorrow, we will stage a public break-up. We'll meet early tomorrow morning before so that we can work out the particulars of our broken union to ensure it is believable and plausible."

He extended the manila folder out to Temari. "I'll take care of this now," she promised, leaving the room promptly. With her gone, my spirit slipped back into my body and the odd sensations of returning to my casing reverberated through me. It was strange to be back in my physical shell again.

I almost wished Temari hadn't left me there. The last thing I wanted right then was to be left alone with Gaara. I was woefully shameful as it was. Just us two made it worse—so much worse.

"Kazekage-sama," I said, too afraid to call him by his first name, "I know I've caused you a great deal of harm. I understand if you don't want me to continue working here further."

The room quieted, suddenly as cold as winter between us. Would he even consider that an option?

"That won't be necessary at this point," Gaara said stoically, "we'll do what we can. For the time being, keep from anymore trouble or odd predicaments. I advise you to stay away from the Leaf shinobi until this situation is better secured."

"I had no intentions of continuing any kind of communication with him. What occurred between us was a mistake. It should have never happened, and I hope you can learn to forgive me," I said, my back pressing to the French doors as I prepared myself for a most shameful walk to my room.

Gaara sighed. He moved across the office, to the windows. His neck craned slightly as he gazed outside them. "It did happen though," he murmured, "and it cannot be taken back now. I will have to endure this gracefully as Kazekage. I do forgive you so you can be free of a leaded conscience. I don't hold grudges like I used to."

"I understand. Thank you," I said, and I let myself out of his office to contemplate the many reasons why I'd be doing the people around me a favor by committing suicide. Perhaps the notion itself was overdramatic and even a little impractical, but it made a lot of sense in those moments. Everyone there in that office would have been most fortunate if I had not been born to life to ruins theirs.

They say the truth shall set you free, but I felt condemned.

A/N: What did you think of this chapter? Things have certainly taken an interesting turn, haven't they?

How do you think Gaara really reacted as opposed to his exterior reaction? How do you think the staged break-up should go? For what alleged reasons should they break-up their fake relationship?

Let me know what you think in a review!