(2023/04/24) Author's note: Hey everyone!

I intended on posting this chapter earlier, but some unforeseen health events happened which prevented me from posting. I was in the hospital for a very painful ruptured ovarian cyst and had a lil internal bleeding - I'm okay now! Just on bed rest for a little bit, but I should be all good. So if you're a person with a uterus and have bad pelvic pain, loss of appetite, and nausea, please see your doctor or go get checked at an ER! Health things aside: this chapter sets up what's to come in the final act and it's a Nomasaki POV. Next chapter should be posted sometime in May (I'm hoping to post 2-3 chapters next month so we'll see what happens). We're getting close to the last third of the fic (!) so it will be full speed ahead from here on.

As always, thank you for reading xx


Content advisory: sexual abuse reference, dark themes


Chapter 27
Nomasaki VII


Winter arrived in the desert lands.

It had been months since the ill-fated meeting at the Earth capital. Although the Fence-Sitter agreed to end the bounty on Nomasaki's head, the Earth daimyo remained firm on his stance towards Yamagakure – a dangerous decision. Ōnoki would not budge on his desire for the mines either, prompting Kyō to meet with the Mountain Court in preparation for a conflict. Gaara urged him to keep all movements secret and to instead write to Ōnoki himself, but whenever an owl from Yama was sent to Iwa, it did not return. Nomasaki thought about the troubles as she roamed within the sprawling grounds of the Kazekage estate, but an easy solution was slim to none. Although on house arrest, she was still permitted to leave the estate – as long as she was accompanied by ANBU and remained in Sunagakure. Being heavily pregnant, she was not leaving Suna anytime soon.

The flowers in the greenhouse bloomed beautifully, even in the dead of winter.

A cold blew through the desert lands, making the sweltering sands at least bearable for a few brief months. Nomasaki was grateful for that. Being eight months pregnant was difficult as it was, but to be pregnant in the desert was horrific. Even before her childbearing years, she found the temperatures to be harsh. She craved the snow, the ice, and the cold that came with the winds of winter. She was not built for the heat of the desert and craved air conditioning and shade whenever she left the shelter of the estate. Thus, the arrival of winter allowed her to leave the house freely and without much stress. The lack of a blood-seal this time around meant her second pregnancy was a rather easy one. Her morning sickness subsided, her head was clearer, and her cravings for apples and lemon cakes were at least controllable. However, her lower back ached from the weight of her swollen belly, and her steps sometimes turned to waddles.

But in a few short weeks, the child would be born – and she could hardly wait.

Her sunflowers were giants compared to the others.

Gaara would be proud, she thought, watering her yield.

But unlike most days, Gaara did not meet her in the gardens. With Shijima tailing her in the shadows, Nomasaki waddled her way to the Kazekage's office only to catch Gaara in the middle of discussions with Baki and Kankurō. On his desk was an open scroll. Even from far away, Nomasaki could see the elegant handwriting.

Her heart dropped.

Baki left shortly after, bowing his head and wishing her a good day. Kankurō shrugged and mumbled something under his lips as sand closed the door behind him. When she met her husband's face, his stoic expression held a hint of guilt. And she had an inkling of where the conversation was headed.

It was Hakuto.

She did not hold disdain towards the Hōki heiress, but she tensed whenever her name was mentioned within earshot. Shijima picked up on it but understood completely. She had only met the heiress in person once and saw how beautiful the woman was. Dark, ebony hair, ocean blue eyes, serene grace and elegant poise. The council eventually came around to softening Nomasaki's presence, more so after the birth of Kyokurō – and slowly after the discussions with Iwa. Even still, the few dissident elders on the council voiced their disappointment in Gaara's reluctance to marry such a 'prize' – as one elder put it. Nomasaki shuddered and bit her tongue when the elder felt bold to say such in her presence, swollen belly and all. She promised herself she would be the one to punish him for such remarks, as equated women as prizes to be won utterly disgusted her. But no remarks disgusted her as much as talks of the Hōki heiress having children of her own – or possibly using forbidden ninjutsu to steal away the Kazekage. All were nothing but alleyway gossip, but all eventually found their way to Nomasaki one way or another.

Gaara told her the truth – he was summoned.

When questioned why, he was not sure. Nomasaki hoped it was not another prophecy – as she put it. She nearly died during her last pregnancy, and she did not plan on dying for the second. Kankurō would be going with him, no doubt, so she was at least comforted by the fact that her brother-in-law could not be held to keep a secret, even if it was for the Kazekage. She would discover the visit's purpose sooner or later – and if the Hōki woman had another dream of her demise.

It only hastened her desire to meet with Hakuto and prove her wrong.

That next morning, she saw her husband off at the village gates with Shijima at her side.

Temari and Shikamaru were due to arrive in Sunagakure any time with their five-month-old son, Shikadai, but Gaara would have to wait until nightfall to meet his nephew in person. And as per the new custom, Nomasaki was to assume Gaara's clerical duties while he was gone. Even with Temari soon at her side, Nomasaki dreaded that uncomfortable wooden chair. Her lower back ached enough. Dawn was barely creeping over the desert horizon as the Kazekage took his leave. Kankurō was waiting just beyond the gates, graciously giving them a moment of privacy. The thin cloak that clung to Gaara's shoulders cracked in the rising wind, and the flaps of the Kazekage's hat grazed his cheeks as he met her pleading stare.

"Must you go?"

"I won't be long. Hakuto-sama said the matter was urgent, so I will return by nightfall." Gently, he placed a sand-ridden palm over her pregnant belly. The moment he did, a kick bumped his touch from beyond the blue fabric. A genuine, soft smile lined his lips as he looked into his wife's eyes. And all fear and doubt left her heart, warmed by his gesture. "I promise I'll be back as soon as I can."

Nomasaki smiled, near coyly. "Be careful, Kazekage-sama."

She swore she heard him give a brief laugh as he started on his way.

"Don't spoil our nephew too much while I'm gone."

She shouted back. "No promises!"

A wind of sand swept towards her, catching her by surprise.

Gaara delicately pointed her chin up and kissed her. Soft, protective, and full of warmth. Nomasaki felt her heart pound, begging him to stay and drag her back to bed. She felt his lips curve as they parted from one another. A sly smirk painted his face as he looked at her one final time, to which she gave him a flustered wave as her cheeks turned red-hot. As the wind rose, Gaara disappeared again, reappearing at his brother's side. She heard Kankurō give him flack, which Gaara answered with unmoving stoic sarcasm. She could not help but smile as she watched them depart.

He will be fine, they will be fine, she reminded herself, All will go smoothly. All will go smoothly…

She gently massaged her belly, soothing her worries.

"My lady," Shijima entered. "We should head back to the estate. You need your breakfast."

She was right.

Hunger panged through her, and lemon cakes and apples soon barraged her thoughts, along with toast, eggs, and lots of bacon. She swore she felt her mouth water and her fangs grow. "Would you mind if we stopped by the market? I'd like to grab some leeks and rabbit for soup."

Shijima nodded accordingly. "That can be arranged."

"Perfect!" Nomasaki walked past her, heading for the streets. "Dango may be needed as well."

Shijima raised a brow. "Dango for breakfast?"

"Why not?"

Shijima did not argue, seemingly in agreement.

And the market, fortunately, was as uneventful as watching paint dry. No wine sellers, assassins, and mummers putting on an offensive play of meaningless propaganda. The heavy presence of ANBU sullied any motives, thankfully. Nomasaki bought her skinned rabbits, leeks, and potatoes, and the two kunoichi were the first customers at the nearby dango stand. The shopkeeper even gave Nomasaki one extra serving on the house out of respect for her status. She obliged, but only after insisting she donate one thousand ryō to the stand. When leaving, the shopkeeper bowed profusely as they wept tears of joy.

If being the Kazekage's wife had its perks, like her generous allowance, she might as well use them.

In the months following the meeting with Iwa in the Earth Capital, Gaara uncovered some missing files and letters left behind from his father's tenure as Fourth Kazekage. They were classified documents, but thanks to Baki, they were securely transported to his office one autumn morning. "My father… as cold as he was, apparently supported your father's marriage to your mother," He sighed, reading the old parchments torn with age, "He gave him his blessing as Kazekage. Yet, his blessing didn't matter when Kenzō charged him with high treason". Nomasaki stood behind his chair, placing a hand gingerly on his shoulder, and replied, "That's surprising, I suppose". She felt Gaara's arm tense and release, "There's more," he said, "It says here… Father sent envoys to Yamagakure once a year to deliver an allowance to your mother, Mikomi. She was married to a Suna-nin. It was even recognized by law… So with your father, Kyō in exile, it seems my own father pulled some strings so his friend's family would still be looked after". The revelation shocked her at first, but then she realized. "When I was a little girl, strange shinobi wearing cloaks and turbans would come to visit my mother… usually once a year," she explained, drawing his surprise, "They left her ryō, like an offering the villagers would sometimes give us during the winter… I never knew". Gaara held her hand then, staying silent as he read the rest of the documents. Not once had she ever expected Rasa of the Gold Dust to be a sentimental man, one who would go beyond the reaches of the Suna Council to ensure the family his exiled friend started in Yama would be looked after.

She only wished he were so to his own children when alive.

If Rasa were alive right now, would he love our children?

She placed a gentle hand on her belly.

Maybe… someday he would.


Temari arrived a few mere hours before noon with her baby boy.

Shikadai was swaddled in a green sling emboldened with the Nara clan insignias. He had Temari's brilliant emerald eyes, but every other aspect belonged to that of Shikamaru. It seemed as though both of their children were the spitting images of their respective fathers, but yet had their mother's eyes. It was a fair trade. She already imagined how close Shikadai and Kyokurō would be once they were old enough to play. She was looking forward to that precious time. When Nomasaki asked why Shikamaru was absent, Temari groaned and said he felt compelled to go with Gaara and Kankurō to the Hōki Family settlement. They crossed paths in the eastern desert en route, and Shikamaru suggested she go ahead. Temari suspected something was up, but she did not know either. Dismayed, Nomasaki kept pleasantries and looked forward to catching up with one of her dearest friends.

It was sunny with mild winter winds, so Nomasaki suggested they converse in the estate's gardens.

Kyokurō played with his wooden train and crawled upon the ornate rug the handmaidens laid out while Shikadai looked on from his mother's lap – as guards posted at the doors stood by, and Shijima took her place under the shadows of the canopy. Temari told story after story of how different Konoha was to Suna, culminating in Nomasaki near snorting out her lemon water. Things did not seem to change between them – they might as well have been sisters their entire time knowing each other. If one did not know, one might have mistaken them for blood. Meiyumi wasted no time making her presence known to the eldest Sand Sibling. She sat at Nomasaki's side, boastfully telling their visitor how she beat Kankurō at shogi so many times he hid the board.

All was well.

Until…

"My lady, a kunoichi of the village is requesting your presence."

Nomasaki turned to the messenger, confused. "Who?"

"A genin, ma'am." The Suna-nin replied.

Uneasy, Nomasaki caught a glimpse of Temari's furrowed brow as she turned to meet Shijima. Something was off, no question about it. She could sense the faintest flicker of chakra just beyond the gates, but as for its nature, she was unsure. "Shijima?"

The bodyguard coughed into her fist. "I believe I recognize her from the party Meiyumi held for you before your son was born."

That alone made Nomasaki suspicious. Who is it? And how did they know we were here?

"My lady – Nomasaki-sama, it's Matsuri," The voice called. "Can I… Can I come in?"

Temari tensed, alarmed. "Matsuri? You mean Gaara's former student? Why is she here?"

Nomasaki was not sure in the slightest. "I… don't know,"

I never expected a visitor today, let alone her.

It was especially odd, considering their last conversation. Matsuri made it a point to recall how Gaara saved her once – the words seething from her lips. And the way her eyes conveyed their bitterness… Nomasaki thought Matsuri held a certain disdain. She sensed hurt – an emptiness. She knew Matsuri was one of Gaara's many adoring fans when he was first Kazekage all those years ago. Still, she never felt any animosity until that fated meeting at sundown. Gaara saved them both – Matsuri from the Three Celestials and Nomasaki from Tenbu. They could not help their respective circumstances or the fates that led them there. And Nomasaki could not help that she fell in love with the adored Kazekage. It was not the best way to end a meeting, that was for sure.

Nomasaki offered her curiosity. "Maybe she wants to talk?"

Temari sighed, straightening herself against the cushions at her back. "It's your house – your call, Nomasaki."

Taking her time, Nomasaki stood from the cushion-adorned bench and, with a hand cradling her swollen belly, made her way to the messenger and followed him to the gates where their guest awaited. "She may enter. You as well, Shijima." Shijima fell behind, watching over the kunoichi carefully. When Nomasaki saw a sheepish Matsuri step out from the shadows of the gates, her chest tightened in anticipation. Breathe, she reminded herself, Be friendly. She put on her best sheepskin a wolf could wear, her lips feigning a smile. "It's nice to see you, Matsuri. It has been a while since our last chat." She gestured to the benches, encouraging the timid Suna-nin. "Please, sit."

When Temari saw her, she immediately drew her guard with her stare. Matsuri must have sensed it as Nomasaki felt her chakra tremble. Meiyumi watched closely as if trying to wonder why her acquaintance was acting so nervous. After taking her seat, Nomasaki waved Matsuri to the vacant bench across from them. She obliged and sat with her fists balled on her knees.

"T… Thank you," Matsuri bowed. "Nomasaki-sama, Temari-sama, Meiyumi."

Matsuri's brown eyes flitted to the red-haired child playing on the rug before them, then back to Nomasaki's very pregnant belly before settling on her violet eyes. Temari drank her tea, watching closely. Silence then entered, making the uncomfortable situation near unbearable. Meiyumi tried to coax Matsuri with small talk, but she did not budge.

"How is Sari? I've meant to catch up with her now that she's joined the Medical Corps."

Matsuri shook her head. "I haven't talked to her in a while, sorry."

"What about Yukata?"

"No, I don't know. Sorry."

Nomasaki heard Temari grumble as she put her tea to her lips. "Just how I wanted to spend my afternoon after travelling with a baby all day…"

She pretended to not be aware of the horrid conversation, smiling softly at their guest. "Gaara may be away, but I'm sure I can be helpful in his stead." Matsuri turned to her, meeting her glance again. "So, what did you need help with? Looking for a new assignment? I understand you have stepped down from border duty along the northern fortress. Are you looking for a return to standard duties?"

Matsuri averted her glance. "T-This… isn't about my duties, m-ma'am."

"Oh?" Nomasaki raised a brow. "Then what's this about?"

"I… I wanted to apologize."

Nomasaki's smile faded. "For what?"

Surprising them, Matsuri bowed her head. "For being curt with you last time we talked. It was… rude of me to bring up Gaara-sama in that way. I was out of line, and for that, I'm sorry. I was his student once, and… a part of me still feels attached, I must admit."

Attached, Nomasaki ruminated, Odd choice of words. "I see. That's alright, I understand." Dissipating the awkward tension, she gave a genuine smile. "My husband was your sensei for a time, so I don't hold it against you at all. He respects you as well, Matsuri. It's a shame he isn't here, or else he could join us in conversation. Perhaps another time?"

Matsuri's eyes gleamed, honoured. Excited, even. "That would be great, my lady."

"But for now, we can enjoy a conversation amongst ourselves – as fellow kunoichi of Suna." Nomasaki grabbed her lemon water, easing herself into the cushions to comfort her throbbing back. "What brings you to the estate this afternoon?"

"Oh, I… I just wanted to see you." Matsuri sighed. She averted her eyes again, her eyelids masking her intentions. Her right hand disappeared behind the pillows surrounding her seat. Nomasaki saw but did not concern herself. The kunoichi was nervous enough as it was. "If I… can be truthful, I've… always admired you but was intimidated. You're so strong, and Gaara-sama highly respects you. Well, you're married to him, so…"

A soft winter breeze blew past, fluttering the shrubs and palm trees that flanked the gardens and sweeping the white veiled canopy above. When Nomasaki breathed in, her heart came to a stop as she took in the scent of ill. Memories of the wine-seller at the market flashed before her eyes. The burning of the blood-seal that once painted her forearm in its curse.

That scent. It's unmistakable.

Wolfsbane.

Her heart sank.

Instinctually, she placed a protective hand on her belly, great with child. Meiyumi sensed her alarm, and Nomasaki leaned close to whisper. "Meiyumi, take Kyokurō and Shikadai."

Matsuri noticed. "My lady?"

Diligently, Meiyumi scooped up Shikadai from a willing Temari and guided Kyokurō to the estate's grand doors. They disappeared inside, with a new slew of guards falling into place at their backs. Tension swirled on the winds, the garden suddenly becoming a dangerous place. Once tranquil and peaceful, it harboured ill intent and dark wishes. Feeling her blood boil and surge, Nomasaki lifted from her seat and stood as strong as an unmoving mountain.

"You're holding a kunai laced with wolfsbane at your back." She spoke through fanged teeth. "Drop it."

"M-My lady -!"

A snarl erupted on Nomasaki's lips, fangs gleaming and her face twisting into a beast. "I demand you to drop your weapon in my presence! Now!"

Matsuri shuddered.

Shaking, she revealed the trembling kunai and sank to her knees on the red and gold carpet. Nomasaki heard her muffling sobs into the ornate fabric, and she did not feel anything for her other than surging rage. Temari stood behind, opening her war-fan to its first moon. Nomasaki's nostrils flared, her blood boiling under her clawed fists.

"Matsuri," She growled with eerie elegance. "Did you really intend on poisoning me?"

Matsuri trembled and sobbed. "I-I'm so sorry! I didn't want to! Please, forgive me!"

Her cries struck them.

They were pained, grieving, and frightened of what was to come.

"This isn't like Matsuri," Temari tsked, whispering to her ear. "I knew her from when she was Gaara's student, but I never suspected she could be capable of doing something so vile. She was always foolish at best, but she was harmless. I don't think she could go through with this alone…"

Nomasaki thought about her words, but her anger proved to be a stronger persuasion. "Was all this about Gaara when you arrived? Is that why you wanted to poison me, his wife and mother of his children? Do you feel slighted by my status and title?"

"It had nothing to do with Gaara-sama, I swear!" Matsuri shot up to her knees, her cheeks hot with tears. "I… I love him! I still love him! But I would never even dream of harming you! He loves you, so I must respect that – no matter how much it pains my heart to see him so happy with someone else, someone I envy!" She lowered her head, shoulders shuddering as she continued to sob. "And I failed… I failed him! I'm so sorry… I never wanted to do this!"

Nomasaki's anger quelled, perplexed. "Did someone put you up to this?"

"Y… Y-Yes,"

She glared. "Who was it?"

Matsuri's lips quivered as she looked into the wolf's eyes. "G… Genji -,"

A blare of chakra erupted.

Matsuri screamed, her cries concealed by a swirling vortex of winds. Nomasaki fell behind Shijima, who held the winds back with her blade. The winds were violent and untamed, slashing apart the trees and shattering the glass of the greenhouse. Then, with one swish of Temari's third moon of her war-fan, the winds dissipated.

And standing over Matsuri's limp body was Temujin, violet eyes and all.

Temari gnashed her teeth. "Bastard!"

The winds unleashed from her fan struck where he stood, but with a single movement of his honed war-axe, the winds fell silent. Dead. From just a slash in the air, his chakra radiated with a bestial power that rivalled that of his estranged sister. His stance alone emanated a warrior's skill, invoking his killing intent to the three kunoichi.

Temari held her fan back, gauging the situation. "Damn it! The bastard is fast… Who is he?"

Wide-eyed, Nomasaki stared at her brother from behind Shijima's blade.

He's here. Why on earth is he here?

And then she remembered.

He was here… to follow through on Matsuri's task.

Her heart sank.

"Temujin," Was all Nomasaki could say.

"Stupid girl," Temujin scoffed, looking down at the unconscious kunoichi. "She should know better than to invoke our wrath." He must have sensed Nomasaki's stare as he met her distraught with a sharp glare. "I see she was unsuccessful. Genji-sama will be disappointed, no doubt."

"So he's aware then," Nomasaki breathed, making her way to Shijima's side. "He's aware that we know!"

Temujin glared darkly. "And what of it? No one will believe you," A smirk lined his thin lips, and Nomasaki swore she saw fanged teeth. It was a wolfish grin she saw. "Especially the Earth Court. The Wind Court may need convincing, but they'll come around… eventually."

"So, Genji-sama has been conspiring with Tenbu all along and planting lies in our own nation! You people make me sick!" Temari solidified her stance, her war-fan surging with her chakra. "How does a Yamamori clansman willingly work with such trash? Tenbu wants your kind destroyed! Isn't that right?"

"The clan, yes," Temujin replied coldly. "As for me… Genji-sama considers me a powerful asset. One powerful enough to one day succeed him when he conquers the lands he was promised by birthright." His glare drifted back to Nomasaki, burning through her strong front and hardened expression. But he saw through her fragile façade and smirked at her distress. "Unlike you… sister."

Temari whipped her head. "Sister…? What's he on about?"

Nomasaki remained silent, aghast.

"Nomasaki?"

Temujin's glare stared Nomasaki down, unforgiving.

Nomasaki kept firm, even if her heart broke. "You know the truth then?" She forced herself to say through fanged lips. "That we're -,"

"Siblings by blood and nothing more," He snorted. "You and the clan are monsters in human flesh, and that child growing in your belly will be the worst of them. A half-blood, at that."

"But you're a half-blood, my brother!" Nomasaki shouted, surrendering to her emotions. "Our mother was a proud Yamamori, the clan's heiress! And our father was a shinobi from Sunagakure! We're of the sand and snow – half-bloods!" Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, her voice cracking from her angry sobs. "I can't stand by and see you used by Tenbu and Genji as a mere puppet… You're family!"

Temujin's sharp features hardened like ice, his eyes steely. "I have no family but Genji-sama. Mother didn't want me, and father doesn't even know I exist."

"But that's because you were stolen! Stolen from the moment you were born!" Nomasaki yelled, her blood boiling. She wept, overcome with sorrow. "I wish they stole me instead… because at least… At least I wouldn't have to see you suffer!"

A flicker sparked behind Temujin's purple eyes.

And Nomasaki sensed his chakra come to a sudden halt.

She could feel his chakra on the winds that blew past, the certain darkness surrounding it quelling only momentarily. Did she possibly break through to him? She was unsure. Temari's grip on her fan relaxed slightly, bewildered by their foe's change in demeanour. Something in him cracked in two.

Shattered.

Temujin's glance was wide, fixated on Nomasaki as she stared back at him with a glare firm on the coldest and unbending iron. And he saw all the hurt that swirled behind her gaze of violet. "You… -,"

Catching the kunoichi off guard, he clutched his chest as if he were about to rip the leathers off to tear out his heart. He staggered, breathing heavily. Temari leaned to Nomasaki's ear, keeping her glare locked on their foe. "What's happening?"

The seal on his heart, Nomasaki realizes, It's recoiling.

Huffing, he straightened his back and released a bitter snarl from his lips. Then, with utter ease, he scooped Matsuri under his arm and faced the kunoichi a final time. "Let this be a warning," He spat. "If you cross Genji-sama again, I will show no mercy. Even if you are my sister by blood… I will show no mercy to those who dare threaten my master."

And in a burst of violent winds of the north, he was gone.

Shijima sheathed her blade. "My lady, are you alright?"

"Yes," Nomasaki nodded, feigning a light smile. "Thank you."

"Nomasaki-sama! Temari-sama!" Guards soon stormed in, aghast by the scene of splintered trees and broken glass. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

Nomasaki shook her head. "We're… okay."

She took in the sight of the shattered greenhouse and saw her and Gaara's plants destroyed. Petals of sunflower and snow lilies were littered upon the tiled floor. All those hours of hard labour and love – wasted. However, the sight of a single surviving snow lily softened the blow. Its petals were shining in the winter sun, brilliant blue and white.

Resilient.

She bent down and grazed the flower with her finger, feeling its coldness.

"He didn't attack," Temari said.

Nomasaki shook her head. "No,"

"But why? He had his chance, and you…-," Temari stopped herself.

Silence was born between them.

The guards who were knocked out began to awake, and the ones who arrived dispersed to cover the grounds of the winding estate. Shouts and calls to arms rang throughout the destroyed gardens and courtyard, all before the sun could sink to its place in the sky to mark the afternoon. The Hōki woman summoned Gaara on the worst day possible if she had anything to say about it. And to make matters worse, his prized greenhouse was destroyed. A sigh passed her lips as she stood back on her feet, her belly weighing heavily onto her back. She breathed carefully, steadying herself.

"Something stopped him. I don't know what, but something stopped him from following through." Nomasaki's gaze drifted downwards, soon lost in grieving thought. "Perhaps deep down he truly didn't want to harm his own sister…?"

Temari tsked, folding her arms across her chest. "That Genji-sama… If he's sending Matsuri to do his dirty work, then that must mean he's felt confident enough to flee the village. And then there's the matter of retrieving her… what a mess."

Truly, Nomasaki thought.

And Matsuri… It was still difficult for her to process the kunoichi's betrayal. She knew Matsuri held disdain towards her affections for Gaara, but for her to go so far – no doubt Genji coerced her into giving in to the command. She wondered what she had been offered if it were coin, an escape from Suna, or a chance at Gaara's hand once he had been widowed. But Matsuri was kind, timid, and deeply afraid of weapons. Nomasaki chose to believe her innocence – for now.

She was trapped… like I once was.

She started for the estate's guarded doors. "Shijima,"

"Yes, my lady?"

"Send a rider to the Kurogane Clan's settlement," Nomasaki paused, meeting her bodyguard's covered face with a firm glare that could have been carved from stone. A mountain, she was. "Have them confirm Genji-sama's presence. If they are harbouring a traitor, they are an enemy of Sunagakure and must face justice… by order of the Kazekage!"

Shijima nodded. "It will be done."

Upon seeing the Hōki leave, Temari could not help but be impressed. "Taking the role of the Kazekage's proxy seriously, I see."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all," Nomasaki replied, watching the back of Shijima disappear into the distant gates. "Gaara has enough to deal with… now the economic crisis in Suna will only get worse without water from the Kurogane clan's oases. It's only a matter of time before the elders on the council start picking sides and civil unrest erupts… just as Tenbu and Genji wanted."

Temari met her eyes firmly. "Don't worry about Gaara. Worry about you. Gaara can handle things as he always has – he's the Fifth Kazekage for a reason. You're on house arrest and are eight months pregnant! Laying low is your top priority." She sighed, putting a hand on her hip. "I know you want to put those bastards in their place, but they'll have their day of reckoning." She looked back to Nomasaki, her green eyes full of conviction. "And you will have my fan when that day comes."

Tears once more swelled in Nomasaki's eyes.

"Temari," She said quietly, nodding her head. "Thank you…"


The afternoon was spent in Gaara's office.

Guards stood outside the closed door, with Shijima keeping solace in the doorway. It was a long few hours of discussions with Baki and other senior ranking Suna-nin. Temujin had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, with the ANBU suspecting he used a transportation technique. Nomasaki was not convinced. She did not sense his chakra – her chakra until he appeared in the gardens. It was the same as in the mountains when Tenbu cornered her in the frosted thicket. And for all she knew, it might as well have been Temujin then.

As for Matsuri, Temujin had taken her somewhere they could not find.

Baki suspected Tenbu's hideout – wherever that may be. Temari suggested the Kurogane clan compound, where Genji supposedly was hiding, too. Nomasaki could see the latter being the more likely answer – and hopefully, the rider she sent would report back before nightfall.

Hopefully before Gaara returns so I don't cause any further stress, my poor husband.

"Is this true?"

The ANBU captain nodded. "Yes, Nomasaki-sama. We found evidence of Matsuri's ties to the Kurogane clan." He slid the papers across the desk. "It appears the girl's family once had business dealings with Genji-sama and the Kurogane but fell through. Her parents were murdered by hired thugs affiliated with the clan… the insignia of their blades matched that of our records."

Nomasaki was right.

She was blackmailed… Matsuri, I'm sorry.

She pushed the papers away, eyeing the ANBU sternly as she nodded in thanks. "…I see. Thank you,"

"And… there's something else,"

Nomasaki raised a brow, and Temari caught their hesitance.

Begrudgingly, the ANBU led the kunoichi to the estate's stables.

The horse was corralled while two stable-hands tried to calm the beast. It huffed and whinnied, rearing its head as efforts to restrain it were met with frightened resistance. When Nomasaki stepped foot inside the stables, the horse buckled and cried, rising on its hind legs and kicking violently. Nomasaki did her best to not seem annoyed, but it was a difficult task – for its smell burned her nostrils. She scrunched her nose.

But then she realized a crucial detail.

She turned to the ANBU. "Where's its rider?"

The horse's panicked cries prevailed over the disgruntled stable-keepers who tried to subdue the creature. A young stableboy – younger than ten – came from the barn and gave the beast a carrot, which seemed to calm the horse down.

"Nomasaki-sama," The ANBU began reluctantly. "This is the horse of the rider you sent to the Kurogane clan."

It was then she could smell it.

The stench of blood entered her senses.

Lots of blood.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and approached the cowering beast.

The horse saw her approach and squealed, snorting and jerking its head in its reins. As she drew closer, the stable-keepers pulled the boy away and kept back. She put out a hand, breathing deeply to draw a calm. Her chakra surged at her spread fingers, her fingernails becoming claws. Her blood simmered beneath her skin.

I am no sheep, but let me calm you.

The horse grew more frightened, sensing the wolf that stared it down. Hushing through fanged lips, Nomasaki took a final step closer and coaxed the beast to a still. A silence then entered, and the witnesses stood bewildered. She placed her clawed hand on the horse's shoulder, feeling its smooth brown coat. If only its stench was more pleasant, Nomasaki might come to love the creatures.

But alas, it was not the time.

Once the beast was calmed, she took her hand away and forced herself to open the engorged satchel. The rider's head was severed at the neck, his eyes open wide and mouth agape. Flies buzzed in and out his ears while his lips and nape oozed crimson into the satchel's fine-honed leather. A sight not for the faint of heart. Bile swam into her throat, but she swallowed it down as she closed the satchel.

She sighed. "So Genji fled… Coward."

"The riders we sent to retrieve him reported an empty outpost. Not a single person in the settlement at all!" The ANBU said. "As if they vanished…"

Nomasaki turned back, stern-faced. "They didn't vanish. They're hiding."

"But where?"

"It's a genjutsu," Shijima entered. "It sounds like a very powerful one at that. Genji may have unleashed it himself to mask his presence from Suna and the Land of Wind."

"A genjutsu?" The ANBU repeated.

Nomasaki looked at her bodyguard. "How do we dispel it?"

"Only the user can," Shijima replied. "But my eyes can see through the jutsu."

It was enough to make Nomasaki storm out of the stables.

"No way you are going," Temari called after. "You're forbidden from leaving the village! And what would Gaara say if I let you escape?! There's no way I'm letting you risk your life or the life of my niece or nephew like that!"

Nomasaki paused and smiled coyly. "What if I had a chaperone?"

Scrunching her nose, Temari raised a brow.


Cold winds swam past them in the skies.

Flanking a crouched Temari, Nomasaki and Shijima joined her atop her war-fan as they flew towards the southwestern territories belonging to the Kurogane family. Shijima was alright, but Nomasaki clutched the fan with clawed fingers and dreaded the feel of the wind under her. Temari must have sensed it as she chuckled a bit under her breath.

She glanced back. "You really don't like flying, do you?"

Nomasaki shook her head, shutting her eyes tight. "It hasn't yet grown on me, surprisingly."

"There it is!" Shijima pointed. It was the far west from where they were, an outpost barely visible among the orange horizon. "I can sense the jutsu. It's radiating from there!"

There was no chakra in that desert save for their own.

Abandoned, the outpost seemed as if everyone had disappeared in a single stroke. It was a small village littered with thatched-roofed houses with a great oasis located in its centre. Nomasaki wondered if the settlement was constructed to surround the little water it beheld. And she wondered what the Kurogane family did to save Reto's wrath one hundred years ago.

And his legacy gave birth to the mess we're in now… Gods save us.

She treaded carefully amongst the sandy roads, weaving into the porches of the many houses. Not a whisper of life lingered. Chakra was all but gone. She could smell the blood of the rider when they first walked through the open gates. Under the orange rays of the evening, the settlement seemed as if abandoned for one hundred years.

She saw Shijima in the yard of another thatched house. "What can you see?"

"There's… a woman."

She followed her bodyguard, stunned. "A woman?"

She and Temari raced after Shijima, who ran to the manse at the mouth of the oasis. It was a spectacular building, with a curved roof and immaculate cobble against its white granite. Surely it was the house for the head of the family. Genji, Nomasaki realized. Shijima followed the path her eerie eyes carved for her, which eventually led the kunoichi to a grand room with a dais and throne. The audience chamber.

Shijima slowly made her way to behind the throne, an elegant chair of red cushions and bronze craftwork along its armrests. Kneeling, she formed a hand-sign Nomasaki did not recognize and placed both of her hands in the air. When Nomasaki blinked, she sensed chakra and a young woman was held in Shijima's grasp. She was as if in a trance. Her silky ebony hair shielded much of her fair face, but the woman's beauty was shattered by the obvious fear that Nomasaki beheld in her light green eyes. Her kimono was one of brilliant orange and yellow, one that would not have suited such a dreary and cursed place. The woman's shaking hands held the fabric over her chest tightly, shivering.

Shijima's touch lingered on her shoulders. "She's in shock,"

"Did… Did something happen?" Nomasaki approached. "What's wrong with her?"

The woman's lips quivered, parting at last. "…Curse… Iron… Sand…"

"She's catatonic," Nomasaki gently took her trembling hands, holding them close. When she met her eyes, they were empty and unseeing. Trapped within her own horror. Nomasaki tried her best not to weep. "Please, let me help you. Are you all alone?"

The woman shuddered. "…Iron… Curse…"

"A genjutsu,"

Temari turned. "What?"

"Nomasaki-sama," Shijima met Nomasaki's distraught expression, sensing her empathy for the girl. "Remember what I told you about some genjutsu users being able to see your thoughts?" The Hōki looked back to the woman, the red glow of her eyes subsiding. "This woman had her mind broken by a genjutsu user. A powerful technique, it must have been… near as strong as a Mangekyo Sharingan. Whoever did this is a monster…"

"Who even is this woman?" Temari narrowed her glance, suspicious. "A clanswoman of the Kurogane?"

It was hard to say.

Nomasaki sensed her chakra, but it did not remind her of Genji in the slightest. No blood lingered upon her scent. But an inkling whispered of the lands to the northwest – of the wastes. And they just abandoned her like this? Is this the true nature of the noble families of Suna? Nomasaki was firm in her resolve. "We're taking her back,"

Temari hissed. "My fan can only carry the three of us, just barely!"

"I'll go on foot, my lady." Shijima stood, obeying any and all orders. "Allow me to give you assistance."

Grateful, Nomasaki blinked back her tears. She held her hands tighter in promise. "We must take her to the hospital… Maybe we can free her from her state?"

"Let's hurry, then." Temari sighed, giving in. "I don't want Gaara to come home before we do. It'll be a troublesome conversation."

Nomasaki bit her lip, quelling her tears.

Thanks, Temari.

Softly, she massaged the woman's hands in comfort. "Easy, this way,"

And they left the abandoned outpost as the desert sun faded into the dark.


The hospital corridor reminded Nomasaki of her last visit.

A happy memory, she and Gaara sat in surprise to find out she was once again pregnant. It had been six months since, and standing before the two ANBU in the hallway was a difficult task. Her feet ached from walking all day, and sleep began to gnaw at her psyche. And hunger bellowed, and not even the chocolate bars from the nearby vending machine did her any justice. Soon, she could go home and eat all the lemon cakes and apples that were in her fridge. The ANBU held steely glances that were visible through their shrouds, drawing Nomasaki's stern calm.

"Her name is Haruna, my lady." The first one spoke. "But that is all we managed to get from her."

"I see," Nomasaki sighed, hands cupped under her belly. "And of her condition?"

"Dire," Said the second ANBU – a medic-nin, by his white coat. "She's… beyond our help, unfortunately. Her mental state has greatly deteriorated from the genjutsu she was afflicted with. We're unsure if it's a trauma response, but her vitals are all normal, and so is her prefrontal cortex activity. It's going to be a long haul, I'm afraid."

A wave of hopelessness sank into her chest.

Keeping pleasantries, she nodded. "…Thank you."

Once the two ANBU took their leave, Nomasaki proceeded into Haruna's room.

A standard inpatient room, with a large window where the whole sleeping village could be seen amongst lantern light and the full moon. Haruna lay sitting up in the hospital bed, an IV in her arm and donning a blue smock. Her gaze was empty, staring directly at the wall ahead. Nomasaki's heart sank to her gut at the sight. Even the clicking of the door did nothing to draw her stare away.

This poor woman, she thought, How could someone use a jutsu so foul?

Nomasaki sat at her bedside, positioning her weight slowly as she breathed back a cramp. Haruna did not turn her head, but Nomasaki still did her best to smile softly. "Your name is Haruna? It's such a pretty name," She sighed, massaging a loving hand over her swollen belly. And just like that, she felt utter adoration for the baby that was to be born in only a few short weeks. "I'm with child, you see. I hope to give them a name as beautiful as yours. I really like flowers… especially the snow lilies of my homeland." She raised her head, smiling gently at the patient. "Is… the desert your homeland? Did you come from away?"

Haruna said nothing and only stared blankly at her lap.

"The rest of my family is in my homeland. I only have my husband and son here," Nomasaki asked. "Do you have a family?"

Silence.

Sighing, Nomasaki turned to the window. A gentle breeze swam against the pale pink curtains, caressing her cheeks with the cold she loved. "I'm so sorry I didn't get there sooner… If only I would have known…-,"

"…Curse…"

Haruna spoke.

Stunned, Nomasaki turned back. "Were you cursed?"

Slowly, Haruna blankly nodded.

"I'm sorry…" Gently, Nomasaki took her by the hands. Haruna's hands were cold, as empty and ghost-like as her stare. "You can stay here in Suna if you would like. We have doctors who can help you, and there's a… shinobi with special eyes that can maybe help your case. I will help you in any way I can if you let me. Please, let me help you."

Silence.

But then…

"…Iron… Curse…" Haruna's lips quivered. "…Help… me…"

Nomasaki held her hands a little tighter. "I promise."


When Nomasaki took to her bed that night, she was alone.

Gaara had not yet returned. Temari slept on the couch in anticipation that she could confront Shikamaru on his tardiness. However, it was all for naught – as by midnight, the two kunoichi fell asleep with no signs of their respective husbands. Meiyumi kept watch in the chair at the corner of the bedroom, ready to spring at the slightest noise should Kyokurō or Shikadai wake before their mothers.

For a long while, Nomasaki lay on her back. Her thoughts prevented her from resting at first. Tenbu, Gaara meeting with Hakuto, Matsuri's betrayal, Temujin – and now Haruna. She saw herself in both Matsuri and Haruna. A spider's tangled web had surrounded the two women, just as it had once entangled her. No doubt Genji was the one who used the genjutsu on Haruna and rendered her catatonic.

If Genji could manipulate Temujin, who was to say he could not have done the same to Haruna?

It shattered her.

At last, she fell asleep. Dreams flickered behind her eyes that night, dreams of the hunt and the snow and the mountains. She dreamt she had her true form again, her giant paws thundering upon the tundra. She felt the cold and the frost and heard the howls of her clansmen.

And when she awoke that morning, the ANBU informed her Haruna was gone.


Notes: This chapter drew inspiration from Cleopatra (1963) - particularly the scene where one of Cleopatra's attendants attempted to poison her drink, and from Game of Thrones season 2, episode 2 "The Night Lands".