"Dammit. She's among us..!" Gaara hissed.
Currently he was in the hallway cursing his luck. Apparently his bride-to-be decided to come live among the Manor a day early. The woman was of average height with a head of amber curls that stopped at her pointed chin. She had a rounded face with even rounder eyes and an ego to boot. Small in stature as well as petite, she was sweet and well-groomed—for a child of ten and five anyway. She carried conversations the way he'd witnessed women often do…tiptoeing around a question, but through wording aimed for the man to answer.
"My…your family resembles each other quite shockingly. So prim and curt…yet your servants are another story. So…diverse? Do you prefer such company, Gaara?"
The nerve that woman—girl—had.
It had only been an evening and already he was tired.
Walking to the Drawing Room he was surprised to see Temari's Select, Ino, cleaning the curtains. After a moment, he remembered that Lee's schedule changed during the weeks…so he walked to the Kitchens. Then to the Library. Then to the Laundry.
He let out a huff. Why was he, a Royal, walking around the world for one servant? After a minutely search, he spotted a chamber maid in the Laundry hall.
Grabbing her arm rather hard, he yanked her to him with a, "Spar a minute. Have you seen the servant, Lee?"
At first the girl seemed hesitant, but she shook her head.
"No, Sir. I haven't seen Lee for two mornings now..!"-she stumbled when he threw her arm away.
"Fine. Do you know his schedule for the evening?"
Blinking, the girl stuttered, "Oh…I'm not sure if Lee has been scheduled to work in the house today."
"Is he shoveling snow out in the garden then?"
Again, the girl was nervous.
"Well…"
"Well?" Gaara narrowed his eyes impatiently. "Well isn't an answer. Is he or isn't he?"
For a moment she hesitated—almost as if contemplating an answer, but instead of saying it, had decided against it. She shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I do not know."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he growled.
Walking off with haste, he scowled.
Quickly, he walked out of the providence to scan the building. All the workers in the field were shoveling snow—and even though there were many, he didn't spot Lee. Angrily we marched into the house—glaring at servants as they passed him by.
Gaara stopped any servant—Select or not—and asked about Lee. It was to no avail though. No one seemed to know anything about the boy's whereabouts. And then a small pain hit him in the gut. He knew the thought was silly…but with the situation as it was…could it really be all that unbelievable?
Was Lee indeed missing?
Gaara grimaced at his own negativity.
I just need to keep looking.
And searched he did—even skipping a dinner date with his fiancé as the evening passed him by.
All that was left to search was the Post.
'The Post' was what servants called the little stone cottage beyond the Sabaku fountain. It was old…a building that Gaara's mother had used as a sanctuary back when she was pregnant with Temari.
He had never stepped foot in there—not because he didn't want to—but when he was one month old, an ice storm that had lasted two weeks froze the roof, and the rocks that were carried by the howling wind had broke it all away. His father, even though frigid, loved his mother. The man had tried to repair the cottage, taking a sledge against the wilted and uneven bricks to replace with new ones. One evening though, during repairs, a wrongly angled swing had caused half of the wall beside him to crumble from top to bottom, burying his father beneath the heavy stones. That type of accident should have rendered the man bone broken and concussed, but miraculously, he emerged out of the ruble, kissed with bruises and nothing more. From then on, his father had dubbed the cottage unsafe for his children to wander in. So, it remained untouched by Royal hand, but like everything, time takes away excuses. An old acquaintance of his father's had visited and asked if they could restore the building. Reed was his name. At the time, Reed was a very handsome and wealthy land collector. But of course, his father had been doubtful of him, arguing, 'I took it upon myself to fix it years ago, and look…the place fell on me. Me! It was almost as if the woman was yelling, "Stop touching my stuff!"
Reed had promised, "My dear friend…let me visit it for a week. If it does not fall on me during my stay, please allow me to fix it. It'll be my gift to you and Karura." And with much hesitation, his father had agreed. Since then, the restoration had been underway. With the labor of punished servants, Reed had finished Karura's sanctuary.
Even to this day, the closest Gaara had ever gotten to it was a foot's distance outside its wooden doors—he had been six years old—screaming bloody murder and clinging to his father for mercy when Kankuro had tried dragging him under the entryway.
"Come on, now!" Kankuro had fussed, "In the room you go! Mother's been waiting for you to pay your respects."
And still, crying and screaming, Gaara had latched onto his father, mumbling 'It's haunted!' into the man's pants leg.
"If you do not want to visit her, then only your childishness is to blame. One day, you will not fear this place and venture in, if only to glimpse her ghost…" His father had looked down at him with very tired eyes and said, "You may leave." And without looking back, Gaara had fled, and with glee.
The supernatural, Gaara would never admit to, was his deepest fear. Having been birthed was the death of his mother, the birth of Suna's worst ice storm, and the fall of his family's name.
He was a living and breathing curse that talked with the devil's tongue. Gaara cringed. The one thing he never wanted to see was a ghost. Especially his mother's ghost. He'd dreamt once that the photo of her in the Dining Hall had looked at him. Void of all feelings, she had spoke the deepest hurts, fears, and truths that he kept locked within his mind. Never had there been another night he'd wept so pitifully.
Taking a cold inhale, Gaara made his snowy trek toward The Post.
In the distance though, Gaara made out what looked to be two figures, walking towards him. It was three blocks more until they noticed him, and then, closing the gap at a foots distance, one of the figures spoke.
"Sir Gaara…I don't think I've ever seen you out this late. Not without a carriage trotting off to some woman's address anyway."
Gaara smirked, "Evening Reed. You would be correct under different circumstances…but my matters are strictly constricted to the Manor today."
"Is that so?" Reed stuck a gloved hand into his bear coat, "Here. I was sent to town during the afternoon on business, and this came to me from a shy lad."
Gaara took the neat envelop with both hands, but not without concern. Flipping the envelop over, he frowned.
"This wax seal is the shape of a Swastika."
While the company at Reed's side stayed silent, Reed sighed.
"It would seem so. Perhaps your relations with the Hyuga's has gone admirably?"
Gaara glared at the note. He wanted nothing more than to rip it up, but opted to shove it down into his coat pocket instead.
"The boy who gave it to you, did you know his face? Name even?"
Reed shrugged, "It was my first encounter with a lad like this. He was pale as snow and stood tall…taller than Kimimaro, I think." He gestured to his silent companion who seemed annoyed and sickly.
"He would have seemed rude had he not been smiling so patiently. It seems the Hyuga's have been employing many male youth's these days."
To that Gaara huffed, "Well now, they seem to be doing splendidly if they can cart around their newfound youths to give out expensive papers and toneless smiles to their enemies!"
"Young master…perhaps your activities can continue tomorrow. Your passion seems to have gotten the best of you."
Reed narrowed his eyes at Kimimaro.
"Do not speak so openly to-"
"No no," Gaara waved Reed's threatening words away, "He has not offended me... for he is right. I am not thinking clear."
Reed's scowl softened, "Well...what were you out here looking for? Perhaps we have seen it."
Gaara shook his head, "Do not fret. It concerns you, not."
Reed bowed his head curtly, "Yes…good night then." He looked to the boy beside him with a sneer.
"And you. Tomorrow morning, 10 o'clock. Understood?"
Kimimaro gave a passive nod. Reed bowed to them before walking toward the front gate where his ride was waiting.
In silence, Gaara and Kimimaro walked back to the Manor.
Gaara gave a curious look over his shoulder, noting that Kimimaro was looking down as he walked, mumbling what sounded like curses.
"You're Lee's friend are you not?"
The boy gave a curt nod. Gaara smiled.
"Well…Kimimaro, was it?"
The boy gave another nod.
"Have you seen Lee recently? You see, I've been looking for him since the afternoon."
Kimimaro's eyes shifted sharply. He shook his head with a, "I haven't seen him for two mornings now."
With a short nod Gaara glared at his feet, "Yes…of course you haven't. A few others said the same."
With that, they stopped speaking.
Having made it up the stairs to the Manor house, Gaara watched as Kimimaro passed him by—marching in the billowing cold toward the shack-like servant quarters across the snowy field.
"Wait a moment." Gaara all by yelled at the servant's back. Kimimaro halted in his stride and turned to face Gaara—amused puzzlement on his face.
"Just a moment," Gaara called, "I need to bring you something." Opening the Manor door, Gaara put his index finger up, signaling that he'd be back, before disappearing behind it.
It was minutes later when he emerged again, this time with a blanket in tow.
"Here…"
Kimimaro took the blanket, but not without concern on his face.
"Sir-"
"If Lee is indeed…gone, then you must be without a bed partner. This will only do so much to make up for the absence, but when I take my father's seat…installing fireplace's in the servants quarts will be my first action."
Kimimaro blinked. Then he smiled wide…
"You're laughing at me? So rude, you are!" Gaara crossed his arms, but the servant in front of him was still laughing.
"Sir, I do not mean to offend—honestly! It is just…the first charity I have heard from anyone of your blood. I would think this blanket a dream if I wasn't deathly cold."
Gaara nodded, a smile in tow.
"Yes well…you have my word."
"I'm sure." Kimimaro gathered the blanket into a tighter hold before smiling, "Lee always spoke kindly of you. The last thing you are is a liar."
Kimimaro turned to leave before Gaara could respond.
Strangely.
Those were the nicest words directed at him in what felt like a long time. The kind words spoken to him during official meetings…even the ones from women he'd bedded could not compare to the pureness of Kimimaro's.
Wisdom from a servant has not failed Gaara yet.
Gaara made his way back into the Manor, feeling a small weight leave him, but when he removed his coat, the weight returned. Silently, he looked at his coat as it hung from the iron rack. He removed the letter, crumbled, from its pocket and frowned. For a long moment, he only glared at it. Then he broke the seal.
Temari trotted down the staircase with a haste and attire that said 'a ball is taking place somewhere and I'm terribly late for it!'
She found Gaara next to the entrance with his back facing her, hunched in what looked to be deep thought. She'd have paid him little mind if it wasn't so late in the day. Quickly, she told her Select, Ino, to open the door for her so that she could make haste. Doing as told, Ino gave Gaara a wary glance before smiling at her mistress. As Temari made her way under the entry arch, a sharp stab to her lower back threw her off the stepping platform and into the snowy lawn. The select screamed after Temari, helping the woman to her feet, all the while staring at Gaara with glassy terror.
He stood in the open doorway with wet eyes that shone sharply in the night.
"I did not sign this." Gaara shook the letter in his grip with a hard shout, "I did not. Sign this!"
"You were distracted…"was Temari's explanation as she stood on trembling legs. "You are to be wed. A relationship between two men as unnatural as you and him cannot exist when you are to marry!"
Gaara started with a running leap off the steps, but before he could close any more distance between himself and Temari, the select Ino threw herself at him, knocking the both of them into the snow.
Struggling against the girl atop him, he watched as Temari fled into the carriage that had been waiting for her. With a loud curse he flailed wildly, hitting the girl several times about her face and chest as she shrieked in terror and sacrifice. Throwing her to the side of him, he leaped to his feet. The carriage was exiting the main gate by then.
Only the aching cry of the bruised select sounded after Temari's carriage. For a time, Gaara stood in the cold, staring at the spot Temari's carriage had left not minutes before.
Abruptly, he pivoted and marched toward the select in the snow. Yanking a fist full of her hair, he shook her as she cried murdered.
"Best you pray that a carriage isn't waiting for you, waiting to take you away in the darkest hour of the morning—crowded with other girls who have been disowned by their Manor—to be sent to a bed where you all will be nothing but a hole for any paying pig!"
She wept sorrowfully—a cry that reached a pitch that even Gaara's rage could not deafen.
His fist slackened with mercy as he let her go.
Making his way up the steps of the entrance, he opened the door.
"Please!" The select called after him, "Please do not hurt the mistress…she is only extreme from sickness, I plead the truth!"
"If she wants mercy, may she ask death for it."
He glanced over his shoulder, but what he thought would fuel his flames, smoldered them.
Slamming the door, he shut away the look of the desperate girl.
That blind devotion…
Gaara held his forehead and glared aimlessly at the floor.
When sleep took him away, he found Lee waiting for him there.
He was dressed in simple clothing and his hands were folded neatly in his lap. Lee was standing before him, but Gaara did not move toward the boy. His ebony eyes were void of recognition and his smile was bleak. Lee's mouth opened, but his mother's voice sounded.
I escaped the belly of Death just to see you.
How long must I haunt you until you come to see me?
Do you hide because you are scared?
Why?
Because you hate me?
Darling
You don't have the right.
Wordlessly, Gaara awoke—a scream trapped in his throat.
He touched his forehead to find it damp. Then he shut his eyes.