Chapter 346: Fustian

v. pompous or pretentious speech or writing

Disclaimer: I do not own that which belongs to another.

Gaara couldn't believe that he'd agreed to this last week. He had argued with the Council against it, even going as far as to throw Kankuro into the ring of marriage, but his elder brother's earlier refusal had led to Gaara being approached. Every argument that Gaara had attempted had been successfully renegotiated until all he could do was agree to a simple meeting.

"Where's Kagome?" asked Gaara resisting the urge to swat Temari's hands from readjusting his collar for the third time.

"She has a meeting with someone," answered Temari airily, her tone leaving Gaara suspicious. Gaara narrowed his eyes as he took in his siblings, Temari adjusting Gaara's hair while Kankuro was leaning heavily against the table giving out pieces of what he thought comprised advice.

"The council set up this whole 'gathering of dignitaries', there is bound to be free alcohol, which you should take advantage of." Was one such piece of advice that Gaara planned to ignore completely.

Kagome's absence was evident in Gaara's mind. He had been attempting to stop his mind from wandering but with a small lull of preparation Gaara allowed himself to consider if Kagome would be the one he was meeting.

The ancient steps sagged in their centers; their surfaces polished from the millennium of ancient footsteps making this exact trek. The length of stairs stretched on into seeming eternity as it wrapped around and into the canyon's face, its destination hidden around curvaceous bends.

As Kagome approached the final turn, she gapped in awe of the megalithic temple carved into the canyon walls. The temple's colossal columns showcased carvings of the likenesses of ancient heroes and gods, while its floors were covered in brightly glazed radial designs.

Besides Kagome the temple boasted one singular human occupant, sweeping the intricately tiled grounds, their ancient body stooped and limping.

"Excuse me," called Kagome as she scampered towards the old man, his bright orange monk robes flowed around him, his expression surprised as he turned towards her.

"Yes, miss?" he returned, bowing in greeting.

"I'm told that I might be able to meet Shukaku-sama here?"

"Hmm," the man drawled, his eyes turned piercing, looking Kagome up and down, seemingly assessing her worthiness, "Why?"

"I wanted to ask him some questions," explained Kagome, shifting nervously on her feet, hands clenching uncertainly at her side.

"What about?" he wheezed gruffly, eyes like slits.

"About before."

Gaara felt both frozen and distant as he watched wandering dignitaries drift in and out of the room. Their trailing desert robes swirled at their feet sending gusts of dust about their ankles. The low murmur of discussions drifted in such a way that made it almost impossible for him to pick up any actual thread of conversation. Baki stood tall at his side, together they imitated statues at the edges of the party, eyes taking in the groups more like security than socialites.

"Kazekage-sama," nodded Ebizō, his bushy eyebrows drawn in such a way that seemed focused and cautionary. At his side stood a beautiful woman, her hair shiny and straight as it fell down her back like a sheet. Her eyes were clear and demur as she glanced towards Gaara through the edges of her eyelashes.

Gaara felt the first prickling of awareness sending pins and needles up his back, while his mouth felt dry, and his heart pulsed anxiously in his throat. Even as the beginnings of panic struck, a sense of remarkable disappointment sunk into his gut. She was beautiful, but she wasn't the friendly face he had been expecting. He had been hoping for Kagome.

Words: 600