Part 5

A bargain had finally been made to keep her in Suna with him. It was something neither of them was ready for and he had debated furiously to change it, but Konoha held firm. They were given two years and they had yet to succeed in the circumstances that would allow her to stay by his side.

They still could not conceive a child.

She stopped crying after the ninth miscarriage and it killed him how the love of his life, who valued all life so much, grew colder and more numb as time passed. The loss of the unborn children tore their insides apart, staining their hands more fiercely than any fellow ninja they killed in cold blood. The blood of their children refused to wash away.

She went to the Shinto shrine everyday and begged the kami for a living baby; for the infant developing within her to not die like the rest. Sometimes it was all he could do to kneel beside her as she prayed herself hoarse and the heavy sandalwood incense burned itself out to gray ashes. And each time, he would carry her home and do his best to comfort her. There was still time, he would tell her.

"There's still eighteen months left."

"There's still a year left."

"We still have three months left."

Time was slowly ticking away.

He held her tightly as she sobbed into his chest and caught sight of the silver charm she wore around her neck. He knew what it said very, very well. Katsuro. The only child of theirs that she had successfully given birth to. A son. Stillborn. She stopped crying after that. It had been a beautiful baby, its hair a lighter shade of red than his, with flawless gray skin. They had named the infant "victory child" for being the first baby she had given birth to, stillborn or not.

He could never forget the shattered look on her whiskered face.

"Come on, Naru! Push!" he told her firmly, holding her hand like a lifeline.

She bit back a scream, trying to force the infant out of her body. Sweat and tears mingled across her cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed, something he found himself doing more and more as time went by. Prayed that this time the baby would be alive despite being dangerously premature. That all would end up okay and the love of his life would be able to stay with him. If this child wasn't alive… they'd only have one more chance; two at best.

Her lips began to bleed under the pressure of her teeth and he leaned down and kissed her fiercely, as if that itself could ensure that, even if the child was dead like the rest, it would all still be okay.

Then they heard a wail.

Weary blue and silver-green eyes snapped open in shock. There was another cry and she began sobbing uncontrollably. He stared in awe at the medic-nin, or more specifically, the child in the medic's arms.

The child was tiny, hardly longer than the medic's hand, dangerously premature. But it was alive, pink-faced and shrieking. The babe's hair was a unique shade of red, with a brighter, more orange tint than that of his own ruby locks. Its eyes were squinched and teary and he could see the glint of a blue so dark it almost seemed black. The umbilical cord was cut and his eyes burned as he looked upon his daughter.

His living, breathing daughter.

Her golden hair spider-webbed across her face and she pulled away trembling like a leaf. "Our baby, Gaara. Where is our baby? I want to see my baby. I can hear her. Where is she? Where is Akane?"

He tightened his hold on her, hands pressing into the small of her back. Akane: deep red. He didn't have to ask his mate to know that she wasn't describing the infant's hair color. She had been named for the blood of her many miscarried brothers and sisters.

But they were not permitted to hold their newborn, living daughter. He clutched his kitsune to him as the medic-nin pulled the screen and began hooking up the child to machines and ran diagnostics; working furiously to make sure that Akane did not die.

His beloved sobbed and clawed at his back, struggling in her bed. "Where is my baby? Is she okay? Is she alive? Please, please, I want to see my baby. She needs me!" she wailed, on the verge of hysterics. Medics moved to crowd around the Kazekage and his lover, but he leapt onto the bed and knelt over her form, his body pressed firmly against hers, his lips firmly enveloping her mouth.

"She came too early, Naru. They're taking care of her. They're going to make sure she lives."

Her tears were hot against his cheeks. Her thin arms wrapped around his neck; she'd wasted away so much from the stress, grief, and child-carrying; it had taken its toll on him too.

"I can stay now," she whispered in sudden realization.

His response was to kiss her, the wailing of their child filling their ears.