The First Time

The night was a velvet dark, humid, bleak and barren. Candles flickered in the palace, warming the air with the scent of sandalwood as the moon ascended to meet the storm. Drapes billowed and swayed on the Kazekage's balcony, beckoning in the night, calling kismet to throw off the veil and reveal itself to the world.

On nights like this, in these hours of isolation, locked away in his room, his blood used to boil. The hunger for death was insatiable and the need to feel power surge through him was turning into desperation. All Gaara wanted was to let go, to unhinge the door that he had crafted between Shukaku and the world. To be swallowed whole by his insanity and taste blood was an overbearing instinct he was finding harder to silence.

The Kazekage stood in the half-darkness of his bedroom, his shadow flickered against the wall in the candlelight. His hands gripped the chair at his dressing table with such force that his knuckles were white from the pain of clutching to sanity. His head bowed, Gaara's face furrowed and contorted as he fought against his instincts. He staggered his breathing, trying to remain in control, trying not to listen to Shukaku's whispers that were attempting to persuade him that it would all feel better if he followed that scent of blood on the air.

Usually a cold moon would lend him company on nights like this, to cool his blood, to help him part with the lust. But there was no moon tonight.

"Ah!" Shukaku raised his head at the thought of her and Gaara gripped the frame of the chair so tightly a crack formed beneath his finger tips and ran along the wood, splintering the beautiful carvings, as though a blade had been run along the chair.

He couldn't take this anymore. It was tearing him apart. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. But his blood was boiling, his heart was pounding fit to burst -

"Kazekage?" The temperature in the room plummeted, at just the sound of her voice. Delicate and coy, the moon watched him from the doorway.

Slowly, Gaara opened his eyes and looked up to the mirror in front of him, the grand, gold-framed mirror that hung on his dressing table. He saw her in its reflection. The sight of Ai stood in red the colour of blood, her fair skin glowing in the candlelight of his room, her bright eyes narrowing on him with that look that killed him, so pure and innocent…she was to be his undoing.

His eyes were red, she noticed, his crimson waves of hair messy and rugged. The Kazekage stood hunched over his dressing table chair, his Kazekage robes abandoned to reveal his black clothes beneath. She had to take a breath and look away for the feeling of want was turning into an ailment. He was her weakness and she sighed deeply; no woman knew addiction, obsession, insanity, until you knew him.

They looked at one another in the reflection of the mirror. The outside world was forgotten, a distant memory, a dream, no longer a hindrance. The silence stretched on as they appraised one another; the coldness of the moon fighting against the heat of his blood, a war was breaking out between them and both were caught in the cross-fire.

Gaara bowed his head; he couldn't look at her anymore. The candles flickered as though cowering when he spoke suddenly:

"What did I do to deserve this torture?" His voice was husky, as though his throat were sore and dry.

"Torture?" She asked gently. Gaara looked back up at her reflection and growled.

"Two years it took me to tame this beast," he snarled; "this disease of madness!" He shut his eyes tightly as he felt Shukaku tremble. "And yet," he looked up to her, "in just a glance you unravel all that I have worked so hard to restrain." The frustration in his voice withered away, his shoulders slumped as he looked on at her as though defeated.

"Kazeka-"

"Don't." He turned from the mirror to see her properly. "Don't call me that." She bowed her head in respect for his wishes; there was something different about him in this moment. It is as though, all along, she had met the tied up, responsibility-bound Kazekage and finally, after weeks of waiting, she was meeting him, she was finally facing Gaara. "I know you do it on purpose." He interrupted her thoughts, "you do it to appease me; you think all this immorality, will be forgotten if you coat the situation with honey-dipped words." He began to raise his voice against her, as she stood in silence; "You think I don't know the games courtesans play? The games women play? You appease me so I see past what you are." He winced as though the thought of it caused him pain. "A whore." Gaara spoke so bluntly, so cruelly that Ai recoiled. "I detest it. It repulses me. You manipulate men and sell yourself for their pleasure; it is degrading, disgusting, I can't stand the thought of what you are." It was Ai's turn to wince at his words as though they cut her; how could he be so cruel? Did he not know that it was not out of duty that she came here, but out of her own desire? She looked up at him, her eyes beginning to shine as frustration coursed through her; why did he always accuse her of being dishonest? She opened her mouth to speak but Gaara would not let her play her games of rhetoric with him.

"But it doesn't stop." He whispered as though to himself but his tone was enough to stop Ai in her tracks; he was no longer angry, he sounded defeated. Gaara looked to the floor, misery engulfing him. "The pain of wanting you does not reside no matter how many times I tell myself that I should stay away from you." Gaara glanced up and gestured to the girl in the doorway. "Who thought a woman of sin could look so much like an angel?" With a small smile, Ai shut the door with her foot and began to walk towards him. "Why did no one warn me that the price of not seeing you for days would be agony?"

"Gaa-"

"Stay away from me!" He shouted at her suddenly and lashed out his arm to stop her coming close. Ai jumped and cowered a few feet away from him, she held her veil around her tightly like a shawl as it slipped from her head. "Don't you understand what I am, Ai?" His eyes widened, manically almost, as he could not fathom why she would want to get closer. "Doesn't it scare you? After we kissed I almost killed you; is not that in itself enough to warn you that I am trouble?" The Kazekage slid down to the floor until he was sat, his back against his chair, one knee brought up to his chest, his head in his hands, breathing heavily out of frustration. His face contorting in pain as his anger fuelled Shukaku's temper.

Ai stood, unsure of what to do or what to say; one moment he wanted her, the next he didn't.

"I want, so badly," He took his hands from his face and looked up at her, "to make love to you." Ai bit her lip and smiled a smile of relief; like a curse, his words ignited something inside of her, something that had been waiting to hear him say it. "I want to taste every part of you, to know every curve, every dip of your body, to hear every sweet sigh you take when I show you exactly what it is I think of, when I think of you." Gaara watched her melt; Ai lowered herself gently to her knees, her gaze cast downwards and, placing her hands on the floor in front of her, began to crawl towards him.

The Kazekage let out a shuddering breath; how did she know exactly what to do, he wondered as their gaze met, to make his body stiffen and melt at the same time? Her big blue eyes filled with mischief and longing as she crawled up to Gaara and stretched out towards him to meet his lips. The Kazekage closed his eyes as she leant towards him. Inches from his face, Ai stopped and watched his handsome features become pained as he felt her close. She was not about to give in so easily.

"What do you think of, Gaara?" She whispered and watched as his lips part to speak.

"Terrible, wrong, sinful things." As Ai put the arches of her lips against his, he shivered. "No, Ai, please stop." She kept her lips so close to his that as Gaara spoke, their lips brushed.

"Let the priests in the temple pray for you, Kazeakge; I am here to make sure that there is something worth saving you from." He smiled and shook his head.

"Shukaku won't let me touch you. He wants you, Ai." Gaara spoke softly as though fearful the demon might hear him.

"I do not fear him." She said defiantly and retreated a little. Gaara opened his eyes; she spoke as though frustrated. Ai was looking to the floor, her dark thick waves of hair falling around her, licking the floor as she spoke. "Why do you insist on denying yourself what you want?" She asked him and shook her head, "why do you find it so hard to imagine that I could want you as well?" Gaara was going to interrupt but she spoke over him, "this week has been painful and cold without you, Gaara." He sighed; so it was too late to save them from each other. "The pain that has been inflicted on you, I feel it too; we are tied to one another by a thread of fate."

"What do you want from me Ai?"

"I told you, Kazekage," she smiled to the floor, "rain over me. Stain me. Steal me away." Ai placed her hands in front of her and as she lowered herself to the floor she spread out her arms and bowed to him in surrender. "I am you undoubting follower; teach me, Gaara, how it is you make lo- ah!" Gaara had reached out for her and grabbed a handful of her dark clouds of hair, to pull her up to face him. Her eyes shone and glittered as Ai put a hand up to where he gripped her hair, she looked at him with pleading, tear-filled eyes. But there was more in her eyes than simply fear; the pain of longing, the final whisper of surrender to his will, was there in her eyes. Gaara knelt and towered above her, holding her close, his lips inches from hers, her eyes straining with tears of lust. "I am bound to you, Gaara," as she spoke she reached up and brushed hair from the kanji on his forehead; "like the night to the sky." Ai gasped again, her glistening lips quivering as he pulled her hair a little harder. Gaara caged her; he was strong and broad and made her feel petite and breakable in his arms. The young Kazekage's opal eyes looked down at her with increasing curiosity as a tear rolled slowly out of her eyes. "Gaara," Love begged, "let me into your heart," she saw his eyes become deeper, loving almost as he watched her. "I will see it catch fire."

The Kazekage's eyes narrowed on her and with his left hand in her hair, Gaara let his other hand wipe the tear from her face, snake down from her neck to her waist, consenting to her request.

An hour or so later, Gaara was sat besides her, facing the opposite direction, his legs crossed, he was already re-dressed. He had re-buttoned his shirt and sat with his head bowed, eyes closed and eerie and uncomfortable silence filled the room as though Gaara knew he had made a mistake.

With one hand holding her dress against her chest, for he had ripped off the buttons, Ai reached out with the other to push his hair away from his forehead affectionately. The Kazekage sensed her movement and moved out of her reach. Ai gasped; he was going to ignore her, treat her like a mistake, like he didn't want her? She shook her head with a look of offence:

"You are intolerable!" She exclaimed and stood up. The courtesan lifted her skirt and searched the floor for her veil. Ai did not bother to look to him as he stood on his feet shakily. She ignored Gaara as he winced and put a hand over his eye as though something in his head were clawing at his brain. The Kazekage went to sit on the edge of his bed and hung his head in shame.

Love was flitting like a breeze around his room but Shukaku would not let him rest; the demon was breathing heavily, drawing shaky breaths and rattling around in the Kazekage's subconscious. Shukaku was unsure of how he felt about what had happened. The beast was whispering to Gaara that the shinobi did not take advantage of how sweet her skin would taste, of how good it would have felt to have seen the look on her face when he fucked her. Shukaku was disturbed and irritated and he whined inside Gaara's head in a way the man had never felt; he winced as a pain shot behind his eye.

Ai had moved into the Kazekage's bathroom and was finishing washing her hands when she caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror. A mess of dark curls and those diamond blue eyes looked back at her. So that was it. Virginity gone. The corner of her lips curved into a smirk; whether or not it was painful or pleasurable, regardless of the fact he was borderline abusive, she was glad. Ai would not have wanted it any other way. She adjusted her hair as best she could and sighed at her reflection.

Did he not want her any longer; now that he had taken what he wanted? Was Gaara really like that? Is there any way a man could kiss her like that and not want to see her again? To her, he was becoming a drug; she would do anything for the intoxication of him, of Gaara. But he did not want her to touch him, did he? It was over between them. Ai wrapped her veil around her like a shawl and walked out of the bathroom.

The young Kazekage was where she left him; alone and in silence, on the edge of his bed, his head bowed. Fine, if that's the way he wanted to leave things then she would respect his selfish wishes. Ai gathered her dress and walked to the door with a heavy heart; would he ever speak to her again-?

"Stay," Ai stopped dead in her tracks. Her hand hovered above the door handle and her big blue eyes snapped open as she heard something she never thought she would hear. The girl in red turned to her lover slowly, he kept his head bowed, his gaze averted. Her eyes began to mist over as he confirmed her fears; "please, stay." His voice broke, as did her heart.

Without a second thought, Ai released her veil from her grasp and walked to him swiftly. He did not look up as she approached and Ai could tell that it was because he did not want to; his body was trembling and he was biting his lip. As she approached, Gaara turned his head away, almost ashamed of himself for continuing this farce.

One look at him was enough to make any woman weak but in this moment, seeing him vulnerable made Ai aware of what he was asking of her; he wanted her to love him. If only for the night.

"Gaara," his name escaped her lips softly as the courtesan knelt down in front of him and took his hand. Gaara was not distant to her after sex because he was ashamed of having succumbed to sleeping with a courtesan; he was vulnerable following the effort it took to protect her from Shukaku. Ai kissed his hand softly, affectionately, wondering how he would respond. He withdrew his hand quickly and pushed her away a little, "ah," she gasped softly.

"Forgive me," the Kazekage finally turned to her, "I never meant to harm you." He pleaded with her and looked down to the girl he was finding it hard to be parted from. She looked back at his eyes, which were stinging from the effort to hold back what he was feeling, and smiled.

"I know you can never hurt me, Kazekage," she whispered and Gaara shook his head at her. Her skin was glowing as though she were constantly bathed in the light of a star. Ai was everything he wanted in that moment and he could no longer deny what was happening inside of him. "Gaara," Ai spoke softly as his eyes filled with tears.

"The sight of you consoles me, Saku (New moon)." The crimson haired boy whispered and took her face in his hands. "Where have you been for so long?" He asked her and it was the look on his face, one of hurt, and his shaking voice that made her eyes begin to fill with tears too. "Why did you abandon me, Love?" He asked and Ai shook her head. Gaara leant forwards and leant his forehead on hers, "it has left me broken." Ai kissed him quickly.

"I never left you, beloved." She whispered and smiled at him as tears escaped her eyes. "I was marked on you the moment the Gods made me for you" Gaara smiled at her consoling words. "I am here. Always."