(2023/03/31) Author's note: Hey there,

Two chapters in one month?! What is happening!?

My update schedule is getting better and - good news - my outline for this fic is now complete, so updates should be running smoothly from here on out until the fic's completion! This chapter marks the halfway mark for this fanfic, so that means Desert Flowers will be roughly 50 chapters. However this may change depending on the writing process, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Also, the crowning achievement of this chapter is nearly half the chapter is smut... so take that with what you will. Next chapter will be a third person POV and I'll most likely post it by mid April at some point.

As always, thank you for reading xx

Content advisory: lots of smut ahead, you have been warned

Chapter 25
Gaara VII

Shijima stood guard beyond the residence doors, as Gaara commanded.

At first, he did not tell Nomasaki why the morning was so tense, why Kankuro was waiting in the kitchen, or why there was an Uchiha in the porch. Gaara woke up to her sleepy face, a familiar sight he had missed all too much. Her soft violet eyes shone like lilacs in the sun the moment her gaze met his, and all the tension built like stone between them instantly crumbled. He could not help but smile back, relieved.

But there remained tasks to be done.

He at least allowed her time to gather herself, wished her good morning, and then informed her once they were dressed before they could become tangled in each other's arms. Her smile faded immediately, followed by her hesitant path to the door. Gaara followed close behind her as if ready to grab her with his sand in case she lunged at the Uchiha, who now stood in their kitchen. Nomasaki sat at the kitchen table, pulling her chair away so she could stare at Sasuke's glare directly. Gaara stood behind her, keeping a firm hand on the top rail.

Once there was a moment's silence, they began talking.

And then the dam burst.

Nomasaki's chakra tensed, her breath taken. "I… I have a brother?"

"Apparently so," Sasuke answered, his mismatched eyes narrowed towards her bewilderment. "It was a match… 50% DNA shared. The tests don't lie."

She averted her glance, hands clasping the armrests tightly. Then, she shot her glance back, and Gaara swore he thought he heard a snarl. "I don't know how to feel… I don't know if I should be shocked by this or angry with you for trespassing in my father's home! My clan's ancestral seat! How dare you!"

Sasuke huffed, unamused. "It's not trespassing if I have permission."

Nomasaki glared back but resigned her head into her lap. "How could this have happened? After all this time… I have a brother, a sibling I knew nothing about. And his name was Temujin, too…" A laugh escaped her lips, followed by a pause. "Those bastards in the cistern thought I was him, and they were terrified! I don't even want to know what made him that way. It's so horrible…" Her head shot up, urgency marking her glare toward the lone Uchiha. "Still, it should be impossible! I was born, and then my father had to leave -,"

"Not impossible," Gaara intervened, drawing her calm. Her face was aghast. Scared. He met her expression with stoicism, saying the words as clearly as he could manage. "Your mother could have been pregnant when Kyō departed from Yama to Sunagakure when he was summoned by my father. It might have been too early to know."

Nomasaki withdrew, wrapping her arms around herself as if to hold back anger or tears. "My mother…" She said quietly. Her shoulders quaked, and she raised her glare back at the Uchiha. Unrelenting. "If I truly have a brother, as you say, why haven't I heard anything of him? Why?! No words, no hints – nothing! Even with my father, she at least spoke vaguely of him."

Sasuke's mismatched eyes spoke the truth.

Gaara narrowed his glance but said nothing as Kankuro addressed him first. "…Uchiha?"

"Speak." Nomasaki barked. "I demand it."

"Sasuke," The Uchiha glanced to Gaara. Less hostile than his brother and wife, the Kazekage asked his question. Winning him over. "What's on your mind?"

Sasuke sighed tiredly, the exhaustion of his eyes wearing down at last. "…I suspect they used a complex genjutsu on her after she gave birth. Not from a Sharingan, but there exists genjutsu so powerful it can wipe memories. It's a by-product of the trauma inflicted by the jutsu… The bastards must have used a jutsu like that to steal her son," He met Nomasaki's held stare, unmoving. "Your brother."

A shudder passed through Nomasaki's shoulders.

She held her head down, her expression masked by curtains of gold. But Gaara knew she was devastated. "Mother always looked so sad, so empty… She was not only grieving for her husband but for her son, too." She said, her voice broken. "Only a monster would do something so horrific. I couldn't even fathom someone doing that to steal Kyokuro… -,"

Gaara placed a hand on her shoulder. "Should we tell your father?"

Nomasaki shook her head. "No, not now." She glanced up at him, revealing her teary eyes. It was as if the lilacs had died. The only sign of life was her hand gently clasping over his. "At least, let me break the news to him… once we have more proof. The situation with the Land of Earth and Iwagakure is very delicate right now. I don't want to cause him further strife." Her gaze narrowed and drifted to the floor, but her hand remained clasped over his, clinging for comfort. "It might be too much, to realize he has a son he's never met…"

A flicker of dark chakra pulsed.

Gaara directed his attention to Sasuke, who was fuming where he stood. "Speaking of war," The Uchiha spat. "Your wife is doing a fine job starting the conflict for Tenbu." Sasuke glared at Nomasaki, drawing her ire. Gaara felt her tense. Her chakra erupted under his touch. "You set our progress back decades over your selfish strike. For the good of Yama and its existence in the Shinobi Nations, I hope you're forbidden from leaving this room."

"Brave talk in my presence, Uchiha. But do go on," Nomasaki snapped, her voice crisp as a winter's harsh wind. "It's not like I'm dealing with enough as it is. So go ahead, belittle me. Scold me. Tell me about the charges I already know. You'll just be hearing yourself talk."

Sasuke scoffed, angered. "Why you…-,"

The dark chakra fumed.

Sasuke's mismatched eyes were unmoving from their fixation on Nomasaki's countered glare. It was often said that when two shinobi were silent, one could make clear their thoughts. If that were the case, it would seem that Nomasaki and Sasuke were about to kill each other. The moment Gaara felt a flicker of Sasuke's chakra flare, his sand mobilized by his arm. He held Nomasaki's hand tightly, grounding himself.

"Hey!" Kankuro snapped his finger between them, drawing their attention. "Eyes over here, Uchiha! Use your jutsu on me if you're pissed, but hands off Nomasaki!"

Annoyed, Sasuke quelled his chakra.

Nomasaki remained firm, staring him down and testing his strength. Gaara was nothing short of impressed. He leaned in by her ear, his lips slightly curving into a smile he thought best to hide from their guest. "Now you're playing the role of the Kazekage's wife… Quite well, I should say."

Nomasaki said nothing except a brief "Hmph,"

Gaara straightened his back, eyeing the Uchiha in cold calm. "We have an audience with the Tsuchikage in the coming weeks. Tensions will no doubt be eased then, following meetings amongst the feuding daimyos."

Kankuro smirked. "Gaara, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound optimistic."

Gaara crossed his arms. "If it thought it was pointless, I wouldn't bother."

"For our sakes, let's hope that's the case." Sasuke quipped. He started for the door, pausing by the porch. "I have to resume my Ōtsutsuki investigations as this whole Tenbu mess has interfered greatly."

Nomasaki furrowed her brow. "And you believe that's our fault, isn't that right? Or just mine?"

Sasuke glared back. "You also like to hear yourself talk."

She stood her ground, crossing her arms against her chest. "Be careful my claws don't come out, Uchiha." Her lips snarled. "I ripped off the ear of the last man who dared to provoke me."

"Gaara," Sasuke turned his cloaked back to the Suna-nin. "I expect you to handle this from here on… and to keep your wife out of my way."

Gaara glared in exchange. "Uchiha."

The door closed with what could be interpreted as a slam, and his chakra with it. At least that's been put to rest, Gaara thought, easing his tensed muscles with a slow breath. Nomasaki sighed, the weight of her held frustration clattering down as her fists struck the wooden armrests. Gaara felt his lips curve, but he held back his praises. There would be another time and place.

Kankuro did not seem to think so.

"Wow, Nomasaki," He snorted, lying on the couch. "You really don't like Sasuke, eh?"

She huffed and turned away. Crossing her arms, she slumped in her seat. "Wretched bastard… His eyes are bad enough!"

"Everything will be fine," Gaara touched her shoulder gingerly. "We'll meet with Ōnoki-sama and have your charges withdrawn. The daimyo of Earth and Mountain will have no choice but to abide."

"Yes…" Nomasaki sighed, lowering her gaze to her lap. "But the bloody history between my homeland and Earth is well known… even to outsiders. Earth always wanted our territory because of our mines and farmlands. I want to be optimistic, but… I don't know. I feel unsure about how the discussions will proceed." She looked up at him, concerned. "If it comes to war and I fight for Yama, what will Suna do? We're married, so you also have an obligation to pay favour to Yama - regardless of what the Alliance wants. Will you side with Yama or the Alliance?"

Gaara's comforting touch to her shoulder slowly grazed away.

His expression blanked, masking the turmoil of the question that swirled in his thoughts. He felt Kankuro's glance upon him, waiting to hear his answer. Gaara spoke using his firm voice and a stoic face, putting his emotions aside.

"I must side with the village. I'm the Kazekage."

Nomasaki turned in her seat, prepared to object – to argue.

But Kankuro beat her to it.

"But it won't come to war," Kankuro interrupted, drawing her glance. "Gaara got it all under control, Nomasaki. Like he said, everything will be fine."

Panic swirled behind Nomasaki's eyes, but she said nothing. Easing herself into the chair, she straightened her back and breathed slowly. Gaara watched with a weight settling heavily upon his shoulders. If he genuinely had to answer, he would support the village and Yama – for he owes his allegiance to both through blood and marriage.

But before he had the chance, the door clicked open.

"My lady," Shijima called. "Maki-sama is awaiting your arrival for your fūinjutsu lesson."

Nomasaki rose from the chair and started for her bodyguard. Gaara took one step towards her but stopped himself. "Are you alright to go?"

"I'll be okay," Nomasaki turned. Although her expression was calm, her eyes were exhausted with emotion. Faded, dull, grey. It pained him. "I have a lot to process, but I think the training will take my mind off things. I'll… see you later."

The door closed quietly as she left.

Kankuro sighed. "It's going to be rough for a while, huh?"

A breath passed from Gaara's lips as he leaned against the wall. To say things were rough was an understatement. The infiltration mission was complicated enough, but now to have proof that Nomasaki had a secret brother for her entire lifetime… Gaara's thoughts paused. Seeing her anguish broke him, pained him. He would inflict a thousand wounds on Tenbu for what they had done to her family – to their family. He pushed his emotions aside, accepting reality. Besides the chance of war between Earth and Mountain, Tenbu now had a pawn in their midst.

And its name was Temujin.

They had to be careful moving forward, for a wrong turn could mean Tenbu unleashing their caged wolf upon the world in all its wrath. Or even the elimination of their prized pet. Gaara knew they had to play smart if retrieving Temujin was to be successful. Further, her brother would have to be willing to leave Genji's side if they had any hope of saving him.

He thought of Naruto – then of Sasuke.

A curse escaped his lips. "It can't be helped. We're being pulled in each and every direction… such is the fate of a shinobi village."

"And Nomasaki… It's always her, isn't it?" Kankuro folded his arms behind his head, stretching his body across the cushions. "She's got enough going on with her being in the Bingo Book, her memory recollection, and now her brother… Gods, I feel bad for her."

Gaara agreed. He looked out the window, watching the desert sun spread throughout the waking streets. A peace amongst strife, it seemed. His ringed-eyes closed halfway, the weight of his emotions bearing down. "She's resilient. I have faith in her."

"Don't you think you should… I don't know, treat her?"

Gaara turned, narrowing his glance. "Like how?"

"Why don't you two go on vacation? Take her to the beach house! I can take care of the clerical duties, and you can do some big-picture things from away. Meiyumi and I can watch the nephew. For all it's worth, it might be good for you, too." Kankuro chuckled upon seeing his brother's perplexed face. "Hell, I would even suggest marriage counselling, but I think I'm stepping a line by implying that."

Gaara smirked briefly, amused.

The marriage counselling comment was out of bounds, but the idea of a break from it all seemed a decent distraction. Being away from Sunagakure at their beach house might help ease her spirits before meeting with the Tsuchikage. For all it was worth, it would do Gaara some good himself to be away for a short while. They had a lot to discuss with each other, whether that meant arguing or talking. Gaara was willing to take the risk.

But his duties as Kazekage posed a problem.

"It's not a terrible idea," He admitted. "But I just can't leave at the drop of a hat. Being Kazekage doesn't exactly guarantee time to spend away relaxing."

"Take a few days," Kankuro yawned. "The village will still be here when you get back. I might just teach Kyokuro a few new words here and there. Some of my favourites, at least. The vulgar ones, too."

Bastard. "You wouldn't dare,"

Kankuro snorted. "You bet I would."

"You wouldn't be an uncle if you didn't," Gaara sighed, slightly smiling. "Alright, I'll consider it."

Nomasaki insisted on making supper.

It had been a while since they last had a shared meal together. And a good while since she last cooked. Gaara did as he was told and sat at the kitchen table when he returned from his office. He kept Kyokuro occupied with his sand, making stars and shapes floating in the air just beyond his son's grasp. Kyokuro was eight months and growing rapidly stronger. He could crawl out of his crib – much to the horror of the handmaidens and Meiyumi – and grew ambitiously dangerous. Cupboards were no longer safe with him around, as slamming them closed was one of his favourite past-times. But he could now eat solid food, and thus he sat on his highchair with his mashed carrots and squash. Kyokuro babbled while he played with the sand at his fingertips, his deep purple eyes following the grains with wonder.

"Mmm, mmm,"

Nomasaki repeated back, "Mmm, mmm."

Gaara hoped their son's first word was 'momma.' That would make Nomasaki very happy if he did. "He's close, don't you think?"

"Soon enough," She agreed, sautéing the chicken. "Could be any day now."

Nomasaki nearly burnt the veggies in the oven, but the smoke detector saved the day. She yelped when it went off, cupping her hands over her mouth in panic. Gaara stood from his seat and shut the alarm off, his sand reaching the device easily. She was unexpectedly jumpy at home, and Gaara found it both endearing and adorable. He missed it while she was away.

Despite the crispy coating of the bell peppers and zucchini, supper was delicious. And they had dinner as a family for the first time in a long while. After that, things were calm – normal. She asked about his day at work, he asked how her training went, and both cooed and entertained their son with smiles and laughs. A family was something he never knew he wanted for most of his life, and seeing his wife and son at the dinner table at the end of a long day was the most rewarding feeling.

He would give up the world for it all.

Meiyumi arrived from the hospital at the end of dinner and took their son to the nursery, leaving them time alone to wash the dishes. Gaara thought the timing was right to drop the question he was pondering while in his office. Nomasaki told him she was alright drying the dishes and putting them away, so he did as she wished and sat back at the kitchen table where hot green tea awaited. The ceramic clattered as she stacked the plates on each other, and Gaara watched as she stood on her tiptoes to reach the top shelf. Without thinking, his sand lifted her to eye-level with the cupboard. Stunned, she froze from the jump but soon placed the bowls away and closed the door, allowing the sand to put her feet back on solid ground. He heard her snicker amongst the clatter of the last plates, and he decided it was time.

"I was thinking… of the two of us going away for a few days."

Nomasaki turned, curious. "Away? Where?"

Gaara put his tea to his lips. "Somewhere safe, for you. For us. The beach house, just to clear our heads." The tea was hot, so he placed it back on the table. He sighed, eyeing her bewildered glance with cautious optimism. "It should give us privacy to talk… and work on some of our issues we've been having."

Nomasaki stilled but turned around to face the sink of the remaining dishes. Her hands carefully placed the last dishes on the drying rack, and she only seldom spoke. "…I see."

Dismayed, Gaara pressed. "What's the matter?"

She sighed, leaning over the sink as she gathered her response. She slapped the towel against the countertop and turned back, her expression distraught. "I just came back. I've barely seen our son -," She averted her glance in an attempt to hide the tears that were already streaming down her cheeks. "And I'm being hunted thanks to the damned Bingo Book entry… There's so much…" She looked at him, concerned. "Are you sure it's a good idea?"

Gaara gave a light smile. "They would have to face me to get to you. I say the odds are in your favour." He drank his tea while Nomasaki sat in the chair beside him. "And Kyokuro will be watched by his uncle and… aunt, godmother…?"

"I say both," Nomasaki laughed. "It makes Kankuro nervous."

Gaara chuckled, a rare occurrence.

But in private, away from the prying eyes of the council and his villagers, the Kazekage was often in high spirits and enjoyed a good sense of humour. At least when it was appropriate. Kankuro's sense of humour often got under his skin with his jests and jabs, provoking his annoyance and sometimes anger. In contrast, Nomasaki opted for gentle sarcasm and light-hearted jokes. The latter he enjoyed most, especially when she laughed, too.

"When do we leave?"

"At dawn," Gaara sighed and rested the cup on the table. "The roads are quietest at that hour."

Nomasaki shook her head, her short gold hair swaying across her shoulders. "No horses, please. Or carriages. None of that. Please, none of that."

"You want to go on foot?"

She nodded. "Yes,"

Perplexing, as usual.

Gaara nodded, accepting her choice. "As you say so. We'll leave on foot."

The journey to the cottage was not long if one decided to take the carriage.

Nestled by a lonely oasis of palm trees and flowering plants and fruits, their beach house stood with a desert to its back and an ocean at its doorstep. Two guards remained stationed at all times – another part of Kyō's generous wedding gift – who lived in a bunkhouse which flanked the gardens and courtyard. For such a desert, it was astounding the property even had a yard. Albeit one lacking grass. A wall of fortified stone from the beach surrounded the cottage, protecting it from the odd wanderer who stumbled on the distant dunes and the harsh salt winds that blew from the encroaching waves.

It was a manse rather than a cottage.

It might as well be a cottage to a daimyo, Gaara thought as he viewed the house for the first time. Kyō was too proud to realize he ordered the construction of a glorified villa. Humble as always, Gaara did not know what to think when his future father-in-law proposed the plan, but he went along with it knowing it was Kyō who would inevitably foot the bill. "I've always wanted a place like this, but things have changed, and my life has other callings that need answering. You're young, and you and my daughter may someday have a family of your own. This is a place for that, away from the demands of duty and village," Kyō went on to say. Grateful, Gaara hired a team of builders from Suna to ensure Kyō's ryō did not all disappear.

By carriage, the house was a few hours from Sunagakure.

On foot, they would arrive by nightfall at best.

The desert sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon as they left Suna that morning. Concealed with a thin tan cloak, Nomasaki walked beside her husband on the main road that led into the mouth of the endless desert. She seldom spoke until the village was out of sight, provoking Gaara to start the conversation.

"We'll be there at dusk," He began, glancing at her solemn procession.

Although her hood masked her expression, he saw that a slight frown was drawn on her lips. Not too far from a distant memory, he remembered her in her true form – her beast form - thundering about the dunes and dashing against the sands from one land to the next. Travel always came so easy to her, so effortless. Only now, she was resigned to a human form – contained in a cage beyond her doing. Carriages and horses were the standards for a lady of her status, but her boiling blood was too proud to accept the reality.

Guilt pulled at his sympathies.

"It's been a while since you…?"

"Yeah," She finally spoke, her glance locked on the dunes ahead. "I can only transform parts of me, but not my full form like I… used to. My lessons with Maki-sensei only helped to confirm my suspicions."

Gaara turned, intrigued. "Of what?"

Nomasaki fumed, clenching her fists at her sides. "My chakra has been imbalanced," She revealed. "First, I suspected it was from my pregnancy with our son… when I passed out before the wedding. However, when that assassin grasped my wrist and gave me that mark from the blood-seal, it didn't fully disappear. It poisoned me, almost… seeping into my chakra and disturbing the nature energy in my blood. His jutsu, whatever it was, blocked something within my psyche. The memory recollection training with Shijima seems to help, but I'm not totally there yet." She looked down, but Gaara could tell she was distraught. Angered, even. "I'm so close, Gaara. I ache and scream when I can't do it, and the frustration mounts. I want to be myself again… to be in my natural skin. I feel so… so trapped. But I'm so close to solving this, and it gives me hope I can return to normal – for me, at least." Her fists eased, and her chakra grew ominously calm. "In the scroll Ekashiba gave me, I might have found something…"

Gaara narrowed his ringed-eyes. "What is it?"

She glanced at him, meeting his gaze with one of hardened determination. "A ritual."

"What sort? Of blood-sealing?"

Nomasaki nodded, returning her gaze to the desert. "It's the ancient ritual used by my people before the times of shinobi to mark those of age with the blood of the wolf. Only the most skilled of the clan get the honour, but the ritual has been lost to the ages. No one in the clan I talk to recognizes it, but I haven't met with the matriarch about it yet. She may know… and if she does, I'm willing to do it." She sighed, her voice softening. "It reads like it's the opposite of what I was subject to in that oily black cave back then… when my chakra was being siphoned out from me. The ritual… will restore my nature energy balance, and my Kekkei Genkai should be fully restored. So now, the only thing stopping me is the fear of what might happen should it go wrong."

Gaara looked back to the sands, thoughts swirling.

If the ritual she spoke of truly worked, it would be a miracle. If it could restore her chakra to its natural state uncorrupted, he had no doubt it was the correct route to take. But if the ritual ended badly, it could make her chakra further tainted – or worse. Nature energy was a volatile power, known to change men into stone should they fail at claiming its strength.

It could take her life.

But Gaara allowed her to make her own decisions, despite his selfishness.

"It's your choice, Nomasaki." He said, his voice unexpectedly rough. "Decide what is best for you. I will support your decision in every way I can, whether I agree or not." He met her violet eyes, giving her a firm glance. "If this is what you believe is right for you, then I also believe it's right. You have my word on that."

She snorted a laugh. "Already so romantic."

The winds picked up as the sun rose into the blue skies. The flaps of the Kazekage's hat whipped against Gaara's cheeks while he walked, prompting him to hold it as a gust struck them directly. Such a thing might blow away if he was too distracted. He looked at her and noticed she was watching him. Her face was as it always was – familiar, kind, and timidly pleasant. But a boldness he seldom saw was brimming in her purple eyes.

And a warmth he always had for her filled his chest.

He turned back to the desert. "You seem… as if you've grown more. I sense a confidence in you, a confidence I haven't seen in a long time." He met her face, but even his stoic nature could not hide the relief behind his seafoam eyes. "For all that you've had to endure, I'm relieved you're becoming like yourself again. It… pained me to see you that way."

A soft smile formed on her lips. "Me, too."

Nomasaki suddenly came to a pause, and Gaara knew why.

Her glance was locked towards the far northwest, where the lands of Earth and Iwa lay. Chakra was mobilizing in the distance, no doubt triggering her attuned senses. She was in the Bingo Book for not even a week, and the moment she set foot outside Suna, a storm of chakra seemed to zone in from afar. Gaara knew it would take hours for them to reach where they now stood, but he was not chancing it.

"Stand close to me,"

She turned, snapping out of her daze. "Hm?"

"Don't move. Just stay still."

Crouching down, he opened his palm at the sand by their feet. Swiftly, the grains moved and grew into a floating platform as he stood, lifting them from the desert. He knew Nomasaki dreaded heights, but this was the only way to steer whoever felt ambitious off their trail. Nomasaki grasped his arm immediately, pulling herself close to him. It reminded him of the war when they first flew together. She grabbed his arm without a second thought, clinging to him as they flew high above the world destroyed by fire. But today, the threat of war remained just a nagging nightmare and harsh words. The skies were clear, the sun beaming, and the wind hopeful. Today, they could fly uninterrupted by the plagues of shinobi life.

The sands lifted them higher, and the harsh winds were but a breeze.

Gaara leaned close to her ear, his eyes fixated on the distance. "Hang on, and don't look down."

She nodded, biting her lip.

And then they flew.

High above the desert sands, they were carried by the winds. The cool air fluttered his hat and swung back Nomasaki's hood, revealing her top knot as golden strands kissed her cheeks. She clung to him tightly, and he thought he could feel her heart pound frantically as she pressed against him. Her glance was locked ahead – frozen. But after a few moments, some of her fear subsided.

She scoffed, laughter finding her. "How do birds do this constantly every day? It's terrifying!"

"There are no birds in this desert who fear flight," Gaara smiled back. "Imagine a hawk gliding in the hot air. That's what we're doing."

The sands flew faster, bounding upon the winds.

She clutched his arm tighter. "I'm a wolf! Not a hawk, Gaara!"

Gaara breathed a laugh.

He guided her to a crouching position, nearly sitting on the sands. His arm around her held her close, sheltering her from the threat of looking down. If she did, she would probably scream. Or faint. Possibly both. It was a long way down from where they were. Sensing her nervousness, he sent a tiny sliver of sand to perk her chin up so she may view the skies and the desert in the distance.

"You're doing fine, Nomasaki," He pointed, drawing her attention. "There's a hawk there, just ahead."

Flying beyond their reach, the hawk hovered upon the hot air with wings spread, eyes focused on what lay below. Its feathers were a rich brown dotted with splashes of white, and its eyes were a brilliant yellow that took in all the deserts in its sights. Its cry echoed on the winds, signalling its presence.

She gasped. "Oh, wow! It's so beautiful,"

And then she was calmed.

Before long, a smile beamed across her face.

Fangs and all.

Looking at his wife at his side, Gaara felt the warmth he so desperately missed. Her absence and his duties kept them apart, and their clashing pride nearly drove a wedge deep enough to consider separating, at least temporarily. It hurt him to think about what may have happened, but he was relieved that things were looking up and returning to what they once were. The similar bliss that followed their wedding was in his heart, with all thoughts of Tenbu and their recent strife put aside. Because in this moment, he wanted to simply admire the woman he chose – the woman he married.

And she was so beautiful, in her body and soul.

As she always was.

It was merely late afternoon by the time they reached the beach house.

Once they returned to solid ground, they were met by the two guards at the gates, and the carriage with their belongings had only just arrived. The horse buckled and panicked in their reins the moment they took in Nomasaki's scent, and she shot the horses a dirty look of repulsion. Gaara advised her to go inside, so she did without saying as much as a grumble. The subtle stomp in her steps to the house humoured him. Although they had planned for a few days, the luggage the attendants pulled from the carriage implied a few weeks. Even boxes filled with his paperwork were brought out. When Gaara questioned the haul, they simply said, "Kankuro-sama insisted, Kazekage-sama," leaving Gaara no choice but to resign himself to the walls of their small beachside estate. However, if they were to be at the beach house alone for the next week or so, it would be wise to make the most of things.

The box of papers made a thunder when the attendant dropped it on the desk's surface.

It was situated by a great window that stretched from floor to ceiling. No curtains clung to its frame, allowing the sun to shine through. Even with his sand for assistance, it took them until dusk to bring everything inside. Finally, Gaara turned, meeting the two attendants. "That would be everything. Thank you."

They both nodded. "We'll send for the remaining housekeepers to arrive by morning,"

As they left the living room and its hearth behind, Gaara discarded his Kazekage hat and cloak to the closet in the master bedroom. Some remnants of their honeymoon remained. A snow lily was alive and well in its ceramic pot, basking in the sunlight that shone through the curtain slits. He had not seen Nomasaki in the house since they arrived, but her cloak was hung up behind the door, and her shinobi tools were placed under the armoire.

Hopeful curiosity prompted him to seek her out.

He strode out the back door and descended the steps to the quaint courtyard and gardens. They were smaller than the gardens of the estate in Suna, but to see this garden thrive was a marvel in itself. The blooms were vibrant shades of pink, yellow, orange, and red – even as winter blew its cruel and cold winds from the north. The land would never know a snowfall, and the flowers were clearly grateful.

He found Nomasaki sitting on her knees, clad in a sunhat and gardening gloves. It amused him, warmed that she had grown serious about their shared hobby. He approached with slow steps to not disturb her clear focus as she trimmed the leaves back on her giant sunflowers. She must have sensed his chakra, as her shoulders jumped slightly when he stood still. He missed her little quirks more than he would admit.

"I'm really glad they survived," She said, trimming the leaves carefully. "It's been over a year since I first planted these…"

Gaara inclined his head to take in the sunflowers' brilliant golden pedals. "Your skills have improved since your first attempt," A smile curved on his lips. "It also doesn't hurt that the guards have been watering them."

She chuckled. "That's true."

Gaara left her to tend to her flowers in peace and took up reading on the porch.

When he made it halfway through his novel, he heard Nomasaki enter the hallway and close the bathroom door. The pipes groaned, and soon he heard the sprinkling of the shower. She was in there for almost an hour but emerged from a fresh cloud of steam clothed in a thin yukata of blue fabric with red trimmed along its sleeves. Her gold hair was shiny from the water, and her top knot had a tiny hint of frizz. He glanced back at her briefly, watching her fumble in the hall mirror with her knot. She tied it at least three times over to get it just right, but even when finished and smoothing out the hair she let graze her shoulders, she let out a sigh in dismay. Nomasaki told him she was best suited for long hair, but there was something about the short hair that he thought suited her well.

Perhaps it was her petite stature.

He was not sure.

They reconvened for supper, which was prepared by the housekeeper. Salted grilled fish with peppers and rice. Nomasaki ate all save for the fish, as any and all seafood was her mortal enemy. Gaara did not mind. When he thanked the housekeeper for the meal, they were appalled and bowed so much Gaara thought they might hurt themselves. He wondered if their last client was a rich fool of the Wind Court who lacked manners. And from that interaction onward, the housekeeper had a spring in their step towards the Kazekage and his wife.

Dusk fell.

Sliding the porch door open, Gaara saw Nomasaki leaning over the veranda to watch the ocean waves crash upon the rocks. The water appeared orange from the setting sun, coated in all its warmth and dying radiance. She did not turn to greet him or say anything, for that matter. She wanted silence, and Gaara understood. She had been through a rough time – and had been all her life. To ask for a brief quiet was more than what she deserved. Her stance against the wooden railings conveyed all he had to know. Her elbows rested upon the rails as her form leaned forward, the wind caressing her shortened golden hair. Her legs were crossed and relaxed, yet he knew she was grieving from her stance alone. Grieving the loss of the brother she never knew. Her family and all that they had suffered. Her village. Her mother. And most importantly, herself.

But this place was also where she grieved for another.

Shinto.

She told Gaara about her promise to her teammate those many years ago while they were still young genin, too naïve of the world around them. She promised Shinto that they would see the ocean together – but Nomasaki would end up arriving alone. His sacrifice for her and the village devastated her deeply, even still. After that, she seldom spoke of him, only to Meiyumi if the medic ever brought him up. Perhaps she felt guilt for thrusting the dark fortune of Tenbu's will upon him or for not returning the affections he held for her most of his short life.

Gaara did not have it in him to pry, not that he wanted to.

He joined her on the porch, standing beside her in shared silence. Her violet eyes were hazy, locked on the crashing waves that sprayed salt into the winds. She paid him no mind and stared off into the distant sea. He followed her gaze, watching the orange waves dance into the sunset.

"I didn't know you were poisoned,"

Nomasaki jolted slightly, off guard. With a sigh, her eyes closed halfway in guilt. "I… tried to tell you, but…-,"

"I know," He said, his voice low. "I'm sorry for not being there. I should have been. You were… You were in danger."

"You were there, in a way." Nomasaki eased. "Well, I should say Shukaku was, sort of."

Shukaku?

Gaara turned, bewildered.

"That scar you found on my shoulder… Do you remember it?" She asked, watching the sunset in calm. "Because of that, the poison didn't affect me in the slightest. However, I did lose a lot of blood… due to my recklessness. So, I guess I owe you a thank you, or Shukaku, rather. It was the tailed-beast's residual chakra that saved me from an embarrassing end."

"That wouldn't have happened,"

She looked at him, curious. "How so?"

He felt his lips smile as he answered. "You're too good to lose."

Nomasaki smiled back, warmed.

As a wind passed by over the sea, his smile slowly died. The more he looked at his wife, the more hurt and despair he was reminded of. But also the warmth, the love, and the happiness he knew. He blinked back any damned tears that dared to shine in his ringed-eyes, and leaned over the railing to admire the sea with her.

"I… owe you a thank you."

"For what?"

"For choosing to stay," He spoke earnestly. "I don't know what I would do if you…-," He breathed, forcing back the emotion that swam up his throat. He felt her glance on him, but he averted his sorrowful eyes. "I'd continue on, fulfill my duties… but things wouldn't be the same. I wouldn't be the same. But as long as you're happy and safe, that's all I would ever want – wherever you choose to be."

A soft touch grazed his hand.

Upon looking down, he saw Nomasaki's fingers laced with his, her hands assuring him of her presence. He raised his glance to meet her face, and her eyes lit up when she took him in as a gentle smile curved on her lips. "Of course, I'll stay," She promised. "Gaara, I made a vow to be with you. Until death, after death… all of it. I'm not going anywhere."

He blinked the relieved tears from his eyes, smiling lightly. "I think I've heard that before."

Nomasaki agreed, and a laugh passed her lips. "Sounds familiar,"

Her laugh – that was also something he had missed.

Guilt ate away at him further. "I'm sorry for what I said when we argued," He confessed. "I didn't mean it, not for a second. I wanted to tell you sooner, but it's hard when pride gets in the way."

"Gaara,"

He leaned away from the rails, standing over her with heartfelt conviction. "I married the right woman. It's you, Nomasaki."

Nomasaki stared up at him, wide-eyed.

It felt as if something had tethered them closer, pulling them into each other's gravity. Tension was in the salt winds, simmering in the silence the longer it went on. As Nomasaki opened her mouth to speak, no words came out – only breath. Only breath, a breath of wanting – of need. Gaara's body answered before his mind, cupping her delicate face in his hands as he put his lips to hers. Her lips were so soft, just as he remembered. He felt her arms swing around his neck, pulling them closer in embrace.

When they parted, their foreheads touched, and the hot breath from another's lips became mystifying. Craving the affection, the lust, the love that was always there. The tension was palpable, the threads of control inches from bursting. Nomasaki's glistening purple eyes gazed into his of turquoise as she touched the side of his face, her fingers lacing into his unruly red hair.

Utter undying devotion was in her stare.

"And I married the right man,"

Their lips met under sunset as the ocean crashed its swan song.

Hunger had erupted, snuffing out all the sorrows and guilt that plagued their thoughts. She returned each of his affections with a passion that tested him, baiting him to be forceful. His hands smoothed to her neck and down her bosom, massaging the thin fabric that clung to her figure. He sensed her nipples perk from his touch, and a wolfish smile curved on her lips as they crashed into each other once more. Only to breathe did they ever part, and it was only a matter of time before the breaths grew airy and restless. Her hands cradled his strong jaw while her body pressed into his as close as she could.

And just from the mere graze of her fingertips, the fire was set between them.

Gaara was unsure how they reached the bedroom, but they did with stumbles and haste. Cool air kissed his chest as Nomasaki undid the buttons on his shirt. He pulled away briefly, caressing her cheek with his thumb as he met her loving glance. "I missed this face, these lips…" He kissed her once more and cradled her face in his palms. The words gnashed out his teeth, passion overcoming his thoughts and feelings. "I swear I'll bury all the bastards who hurt you in a desert grave… Tenbu, all of them,"

She breathed a laugh, humbled. "Always the charmer,"

"I mean it," He growled. "They dared to harm you… I'll silence them all,"

Her fingertips traced the scar over his heart, following the grooves to where his shirt sat open. With just a single glance up at him, her nightshade eyes under the orange rays of dusk enticed him with a lure like no other. Timidly, she slowly smoothed her hand over his skin, and his shirt slid off his muscled shoulders.

"I want you to silence me," She spoke as low as a whisper. "Please… Gaara,"

Something in her words sparked him.

Without a second thought, he kissed her with the force of a thousand burning suns. His shirt fell to the floor as he swept his arms over her, embracing her for all she was. Passion came to a boiling point, the hunger blocking all sense of reason. Her touch was soft and clumsy in its haste, sliding from his face to his chest as her airy breaths broke free between each kiss. The yukata she wore hung loosely to her figure, and soon it slipped from her shoulders, exposing her to the cool ocean air. His lips trailed to her jaw and neck, his teeth gently grazing her prickled skin.

She let out a whimper as he moved to her collarbone. "I love you…"

"I love you, too…" He put his lips to hers, the hunger pushing him closer. A smile curved on his lips, amused. "Silence, remember. You can't speak… that's an order."

She scoffed. "From Kazekage-sama himself?"

He leaned close to her ear, near whispering. "Not yet… Be silent,"

"Yes, Kazekage-sama…"

Damn her.

Already she was pushing the limits of Gaara's patience. Using his title in intimate situations proved dangerous, and if she wanted to be truly silenced, she was baiting the opposite. As when things in their bedroom grew heated, their biggest concern was keeping Nomasaki quiet. The handmaidens and guards might have heard on the odd occasion, as her moans were hard to mask, even if she used a pillow to muffle her cries. Next to her laugh, it was Gaara's favourite sound of hers. And to know it was in response to what he could do sent him over the edge every time. Hopefully, the housekeepers and guards were far enough away to avoid any unwanted broadcasts. And if not, the ocean crashing at their door would surely cover the sounds of carnal lust for as long as they needed.

Their lips met passionately under the frayed sunset of their room, and clothes soon pooled upon the wooden floor. Between breaths, hasty hands migrated to where clothing lay upon their entwined bodies. Nomasaki's fingers grazed the muscles of his abdomen as she found his belt buckle, unlatching it and pulling it open. He throbbed at her touch, waiting for the moment to be deep inside her wet folds. He pressed his lips to hers as he pushed away the fabric of her yukata, his callused hands massaging her smooth and perked breasts. She untied the obi of her waist and wrestled free from the garb until it fell around her ankles, leaving her at last. Embracing him in return with a fanged kiss, Gaara's fingers traced the silken stitching of the underwear that clung to Nomasaki's hips. It was all the concealed her, and only a matter of time before Gaara tore it to shreds.

A wind swept under, knocking them from their footing.

When Gaara opened his eyes, he was leaning over his wife on the pillow-adorned bed. He was unsure how they got so close to the bed in such little time. But the bed was calling to them, beckoning them to resign themselves to their carnal urges. He met her face, blushing vibrantly and timid, and kissed her once more, moving over her scantily clad body. Their lips met softly under the glow of the sunset, and the passion was clear from the feel of her grasping his red hair. Her lips let out an airy gasp as Gaara broke away and kissed her neck down to her shoulders. Reaching her well-endowed breasts, he ran his callused hands over them smoothly. His tongue was hot against her cold porcelain skin as it met her perked nipples. His teeth grazed them lightly, provoking a giggle-laced moan from her lips.

And he continued south.

He softly kissed nearly every inch of her torso, down to her inner thighs.

"Gaara… -,"

Before Nomasaki could get the words out, he was between her legs.

His hand slipped under the thin fabric, smoothing her silky blonde curls. She was always too shy to show when they were alone, but Gaara did not care. Every inch of her body was perfect – hair, scars, and all. He slowly slid her underwear down her ankles, allowing her to kick the garb to the floor. Then, kneeling at the foot of the mattress, he guided her to spread her legs. He gripped her milky thighs tenderly and felt the wetness that coated her lips, slowly tracing over her flower's opening. One finger delved into her wet folds, then two.

Her core buckled and a husky moan escaped her lips, enticing him further.

"Silence…"

She breathed playfully, challenging the tease.

Gaara plunged deeper into her wet, smooth folds. She was drenched, and the evidence of her arousal only made his unbearable. He thrust his fingers slower, savouring every moment of watching his wife bend to his will. Her lips spoke his name, but no sound came out. Only the airy gasps of heat. Her breath hitched, begging for a release.

And so, he devoured her.

Her core buckled again as soon as he put his tongue inside her slippery wet folds. With a smooth grip on her thighs, he took all of her in. Her taste. So warm, so wet, and so sweet. He had never tasted her in such a way, and he regretted taking so long to think of it – but he decided it was well worth the wait. And he owed her so much for all she went through. He wanted to absolutely spoil her.

But now that he had an insatiable hunger.

And her scent – a musk of honey and lavender.

Nomasaki writhed, her moans unable to be silenced by her will. "Please… Gaara,"

Sinful.

Slowly and lustfully, his tongue circled her sweet wet lips and plunged deep inside, over and over the engorged pink folds. He felt her tighten her grasp on his hair, hearing her soft, airy breaths as he continued to pleasure her in such a forbidden way. Just from her moans alone, he felt as if he would combust. He throbbed, hardened and waiting for her to say the words. Until she begged again. Delving deeper into her wetness, his tongue relentlessly lapped against the bud hidden within her petals, tasting her, fucking her, loving her.

"Gaara… you… ah-!"

Nomasaki's thighs quivered from the euphoria, her fingers digging into his red hair to quell her cries. Gaara felt he could have been driven insane. Her taste was surprisingly sweet, and now he had a hunger for her that could never be satisfied. Deciding to try reading Icha-Icha while Nomasaki was away in Yamagakure was both a blessing and a curse – and now Gaara had to learn how to make himself stop from his newly acquired bedroom skill. His tongue traced her drenched folds slowly to savour and relish what he did, teasing her for her release. When he finally left her, he joined her on the bed, naked, breathless, and flushed. She swung her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, tasting herself on his lips. Their lips crashed as their bodies joined in a tangle of limbs, unable to stand the tension.

She pulled away, a blazing fire set in her violet eyes. "What you did… I want that. I need more, please… Please, Gaara…"

"Is this what you want?" He put a hand on her cheek. "Tell me what you want…"

"I want you," She blurted, her breathing still hitched. Her fingers traced his loose belt, dying for the chance to ride. Tears formed in her eyes, and her voice rasped. "I want you… to have me any way you like. As long as you want me… I'll do anything,"

He stroked her cheek. "I'll always want you… and I'll have you the way I like best."

"What's that?"

"Just you, for all you are…"

His lips met hers passionately, embracing her on the bed of feather pillows.

Lust soon overcame them, with Nomasaki hastily reaching for his belt and zipper as Gaara felt her valleys and curves. He tossed his pants to the floor and moved over her, pressing her into the pillows while she grasped his boxer briefs. Slowly, his lips parted from hers. When she looked at him puzzled, he snapped his fingers, and his briefs disintegrated into floating grains of sand, disappearing into the gourd he left by the closet. Nomasaki could not help but laugh, cupping her hands over her mouth to silence her giggling fit. But her laughter died once she saw him and his enlarged member pulsating. Awe was in her eyes as if it were the first time she saw her husband naked. The innocence he saw in her face aroused him further, especially how she tried to hide her nakedness by folding her arms over her full breasts. Her timidness.

Gaara pulled away and drank all of her in.

It had been two long months since they last saw each other naked, but seeing Nomasaki this way after so long made it hard for him to contain himself. She was so beautiful to him in the shadows of dusk. The sheen of her hair, the shade of her eyes, the alluring curves of her womanly body… and the look from her eyes that spoke volumes of all the love she held for him.

He kissed her with a force of hunger that she returned fully.

He sensed a smile curve on her lips and soon realized her fangs had lurked in her closed jaws. He could hardly contain himself. Positioning herself under him, she spread her legs and gently guided him for entry. It only took one slow thrust for his hardened, pulsating cock to enter her wet folds, and the feeling was near enough to send him over the edge. She was warm, tight, and soaking wet – all for him.

He moved against her slowly at first, but once he realized how comfortable she was, he began to move at a steadier pace that lingered on the forceful territory. She dug her sharp fingernails into his back, breaking his Sand Armour with her beast-like strength. Then, meeting his face as he looked up, she burst into a fit of laughter, and he soon found himself laughing, too. Sand soon painted the bedsheets beneath them, his thrusts growing stronger and stronger with each passing moment. The slap of skin on skin and their airy moans filled their ears, and Gaara felt his strength to go on waning further from his reach.

"Oh… Gaara…"

When he heard her moan his name, it set him off.

Without thinking, he grasped the headboard above the pillows, which shattered into a thousand pieces as it made from fragile glass. Splinters of carved wood rained down upon them, and soon the entire canopy above fell to the floor with a loud crash as it burst into a mess of silk and pine.

"First the desk, now the headboard…-," Nomasaki breathed. "It never ends,"

He cracked a smile. "Happy anniversary,"

His wife let out a lovely laugh, and they returned to their bliss.

It lasted for two hours.

Out of breath, Gaara lay beside his wife upon the floor on a makeshift futon. They destroyed the bed, leaving it a mess of feathers, sand, and splintered wood. And more evidence of their congeal duties lay elsewhere. The dresser, the wall, the chair, and the floor. Anywhere they went, tapestries were ripped to shreds, blankets were torn, pillows bursting of feathers, and surfaces slick with sweat. The chair survived, however, barely. When they were done using the mess of a bed, they took to the chair, where Nomasaki rode him vigorously until she cried with pleasure. Gaara bit her porcelain skin while she did so, leaving bruises from her collarbone to her breasts. She begged him to bite her more, and when he bit her nipple, her pussy clenched so tight he thought he might never come out.

But the floor was where their night ended, the last place.

He thrust into her roughly, grunting and moaning into her open mouth as she finished and cried out, her body arching like a livewire. She then went on all fours, pressing her face down to the carpet and positioned herself for him to take as he saw fit. His hands grasped her waist firmly as he plunged his cock inside her slippery folds, thrusting into her as hard as she bade. The more she begged, the harder he plunged. The feeling was unlike any other, even compared to the sex they had on the night of the solstice. What they were doing was carnal, sinful.

And he loved it just as much as she did.

He rasped her name, pumping his seed into her as he gave his final thrust. She soon followed, her hips clenching and releasing him as a moan howled out from her breathless lips. And the floor was where they stayed and made their bed, sleeping under the glow of the moon in another's embrace. She nestled her head on his chest, waking up to him that next morning with a glow he had never seen.

She was radiant, as she always was.

When the housekeepers arrived that next morning, the sight of the destroyed bedroom utterly appalled them. One of them dropped the tea tray, which smashed to the floor upon entry. Then, without saying anything, the housekeepers left. Fortunately, they returned an hour later to repair what they could and make note of what had to be replaced. Gaara was not dismayed when they informed him it would take days to construct a new bed, for they had the floor.

And the week continued as such, blissfully.