Unbearable

Sabaku no Gaara was pacing his generously sized quarters with a tiger’s fury. His sister sat on his counter, legs swinging idly. She licked at the melting icecream cone in her hand. His brother leant against his refrigerator, stuffing his mouth with popcorn and looking bored. “Honestly, Gaara, if you’re that pissed about it, just say no.” Kankuro said practically.


Gaara scowled at him. “Brilliant idea. And then I’ll invite their whole army into Suna and say ‘Here, have fun.’ It would come to the same result.” He kicked viciously at the coffee table to his right, hearing a satisfying snap as the leg dislodged from the rest of the structure.


Temari rolled her eyes. “Quit being such a drama queen, little Lord Kazekage. You think Sakura’s happy to be roped into this?” Sakura, that was her name, Gaara thought. He filed the information away. “She probably blew up a training ground or something. She’s pretty strong. Last time I saw her, she was sparring with the Copy Ninja. And not losing. That says something. I think this is a good idea, myself.” She’ll be a good match for Gaara’s temper, that’s for sure. Maybe she’ll be the one to finally keep him in line. Temari thought, trying not to laugh at the rising colour on her little brother’s face.


“The fact that you think she’s a good idea because of her ability to break things disturbs me.” Kankuro replied, throwing his bag off popcorn onto the counter. Temari inched away from the greasy kernels that spilled from the bag. “But I have to agree that this is a good idea. For Suna, at least. I’m not sure how you’ll fare, little brother. She’ll probably drive you insane. But anyways, isn’t she some sort of medical prodigy? She could help get our hospital into the modern world. And train some better medics. I swear they didn’t fix my arm up right the last time you broke it, Temari.”


“Make sure she brings Shikamaru here for the wedding.” Temari said thoughtfully, ignoring her brother’s comment on her abuse of his person. She was more focused on what tactics she would need to use to rope Shikamaru into staying in Suna with her. She had nearly had him convinced last time. “Though I guess that Ino bitch will be coming too…well, I’m always up for a little deadly competition.”


“Could we please focus on my impending matrimony?” Gaara asked wearily. There was really no reason for his sibling to be talking at all. All they needed to do was look sorry for him and promise the disembowelment of his wife-to-be. Honestly, that’s all he asked for.


“Have you thought about the ceremony? Have your advisors even talked to you about it? I bet they’re hoping to get out of this without paying a cent. Make you sign some papers, and then send you home, for the honeymoon.”


Gaara’s pale skin got considerably paler. “Honeymoon?”


Kankuro growled out a laugh. “Sure. I mean, they want you get acquainted with your wife, right? Maybe have her pop out a bunch of baby Kages.”


“I think I’m going to be sick.” Gaara said, his voice bleak. Temari scrunched her nose up.


“Me too. Thinking of you naked just makes me queasy.”


“You two really aren’t helping.” Gaara said, rubbing his forehead. He could feel the beginnings of a pounding headache.


“We were supposed to be helping? Whatever, we’ve been listening to you bitch about this for nearly an hour. I’m going home. Temari?” Kankuro strode towards the door, his sister not far behind him.


“Yep, I can’t stand this alone, that’s for sure.”


Gaara watched as his siblings left, feeling indignant rage course through him. He felt like a sulky teenager, yet they could at least indulge his whim to whine about the worst thing to happen in his modern life.


We could teach them a thing or two about pain. Their screams would echo through the desert.


Gaara shook his head, feeling the bloodlust of the Shukaku rise within him. Running a hand through his messy hair, he ignored its muttering heartily. Entering his bedroom, he stripped his clothes and pulled on a pair of black sweatpants to sleep in. Shivering slightly in the cold, he threw himself onto his large bed, still fuming.

The cold desert night prompted him to burrow beneath the comforter, and soon, he was under the seductive spell of sleep. His breathing evened as consciousness slipped away.


Rip. Tear the flesh, rip the bones. Blood. Blood. Yum. Scream for me, bitch, cut. Cut it deep. Want it, want it. Hungry. Let me at her, rip her apart. Make her scream for me.


Gaara awoke as he always did, sweating and uncovered by blankets. He pushed thoughts of a pink haired girl begging for mercy from his mind. It was not a good sign that his demon opposed so vehemently to Sakura’s existence. Shukaku had long ago voiced his opinion on mating. He expected Gaara to choose a mate, and was disgusted by the idea of a mate being chosen by a subordinate. Gaara agreed with the demon somewhat, but he did not feel that killing the unfortunate girl was the best course of action. He wiped his forehead, panting heavily. The demon was no longer able to take him over during sleep, but it did have most of the say about his dreams. Pulling the blankets back over him, Gaara willed himself back to sleep, hoping for a slumber without the Shukaku.




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Sakura awoke suddenly, but not sharply. She glanced at her surroundings, which were a bit odd. She had never fallen asleep on her living room floor before. The afghan that had covered her couch now kept her and Sasuke nearly pinned together. She extracted herself and stood quietly, collecting her clothes from her kitchen, before going to her bathroom. She flicked on the harsh light, remembering to close the door, so the light wouldn’t wake the man sleeping on her floor. Running the cold water, Sakura washed her sweaty face, cleaning away the smudged makeup. She glanced down at the plain ring at her finger. She slipped it off sadly, placing it on the ceramic counter.


It was not an overly showy ring, merely strands of gold wrapped around each other. No jewels on it to speak off. Sakura guessed it was an heirloom. It had a classical kind of beauty that appealed to her. The ring that adorned Sasuke’s finger was nearly the same, except for the inscription on the inside. “Forever, always.” Sakura figured that the couple that had bought the rings originally were deeply in love, to forego the flashy rings available for sale, instead opting for the simpler, more meaningful ones.


It was a cruel twist of fate, to have what she had wanted her whole life be readily available, but so out of reach. Her duty was to Konoha, and Konoha demanded marriage to a man she couldn’t love. Sakura harboured no delusions abut Gaara. He was a cold, emotionless man who would never love her. And she would never be able to love him. It was so horribly unfair. Sakura choked back a sob. She pressed her hand against her mouth tightly, trying to keep the sound of her pain quiet. She leant against her wall, sliding down until her bare skin hit the tile. Then, naked on her bathroom floor, Sakura wept.


It didn’t take long for Sasuke to wake and pick the lock on her bathroom door. He was just as naked as she was, covered in the marks that told of their escapades that night. He sat down next to her, and wrapped his arms around her, and held her as she cried. For Sakura, this made everything so much worse. Sasuke was finally being the man she had always wished he would be for her. But duty told her she couldn’t have him.


“Shh…” he said, his deep voice soothing. Sakura clung to him.


“I’m sorry.” she sobbed. “I’m so frightened.” He must think her so weak, to break down like this. To be scared of something so silly. “I don’t want to leave… Sasuke…I don’t want to leave you.”


“Shh…” he said again, his hands rubbing her back. He could not ask her to stay; to pull at her loyalties like that would be wrong. But, he ached to ask her anyway. He had been a coward for so long, putting off telling her how he felt, and now, things were too late for her. “Let’s go to bed. It’s a few more hours until sunrise. I want to wake up to you in my arms.”


This elicited one last sob from Sakura as he helped her up. She quieted herself as they walked hand in hand to her bedroom. They slipped under the covers together, and Sakura snuggled against Sasuke.


“It’ll be okay.” he whispered. “We’ll come visit, all of us, and I’ll try to take as many missions to Suna as I can. You won’t be alone. I promise.”


Sakura fell asleep to the sound of Sasuke’s whispers, his assurances that everything would turn out alright, of his arms around her, to his face in her hair.




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“Black. Black. Black. Wow, Ino, it’s good to see you’ve been branching out while I was away.”


Sakura dumped the pile of lingerie on the table in front of the change room. Ino scowled at her. “Well, I know what looks good, don’t I? Married women have to be able to keep their husbands occupied.” Ino sniffed knowledgably.


Sakura snorted. “I hardly think Sabaku no Gaara has a lingerie fetish, Ino-pig. And I don’t think I’ll be the one keeping him, occupied, as you say. This marriage is arranged. He probably has someone else.”


“Yes, I’m sure he’s quite the ladies man.” Ino said, rolling her eyes. Sakura ignored her friend, picking out her favourites from Ino’s selection. Before going into the dressing room, she chose some more colourful pieces, in red and green, respectively.


After trying on the garments, Sakura handed her selections to a saleswoman and waited as they were wrung up. Smiling at Ino, she hand her gift card over to the cashier. “I never would have been able to buy such nice things if it hadn’t been for Hinata. I should thank her again. Maybe I’ll make Naruto take her out somewhere.”


“You’ll have to come back for the wedding,” Ino replied. “It’s gonna happen soon, I wager. I hope Hinata will let me help plan it. I see purple and silver in her future.” Ino smiled longingly. Sakura could practically see the flowers swirling around her head as the wedding crazy woman dreamt.


Sakura smiled. “Real original, Ino-pig. But it’s better than what I’ve got. Blue and white are what I’m doomed to.”


Ino sighed wistfully. “But a summer wedding, with a strapless dress, to a Kage, no less. The sky is the limit with that budget, I’d guess. And your hair…” Ino fingered a strand of Sakura’s hair thoughtfully. She shook herself briskly. “Well, it’s obvious that I need to come with you and plan this whole thing. You’ll probably just let those pushy advisors have you sign some papers, with no proper ceremony. I think not!” Ino sniffed.


Sakura was slightly stunned, yet extremely grateful. “You’ll come to Suna with me?” she asked, hugging her friend tightly. “Ino-pig! This means so much to me. You really have no idea.” She felt tears prick her eyes, and she wiped them hastily.


“I’m sure Lady Tsunade will let me leave.” Ino said confidently. “She’s got to feeling guilty for throwing you to the sharks.” Ino had a few choice words she wanted to say to their esteemed Hokage, but not until Sakura was gone and married. Ino wanted to rage, and Sakura’s presence would tamper that.


Sakura nodded her agreement. Tsunade would never send her off to Suna alone.

“I won’t be wearing a strapless dress,” she reminded her friend. “I’ve got the robes for the ceremony. And the reception, I’m sure I’ll be expected to wear the formal robes. Blech. They’re so…boring. I mean, beautiful, yes, luxurious, yes. But interesting? Not so much. Come on, I’ll let you have a look at them. My next appointment’s at the tailor’s.”


Ino nodded her agreement, scooping up her own purchases and handing Sakura hers. “Who ever knew that being twenty five came with so much carrying?” she mused. She nearly fell over with the weight of her bags. Sakura and Ino had been shopping for nearly four hours, in anticipation for Sakura’s desert life. They had raked up quite a bill, with Ino insisting that a whole new wardrobe was necessary for herself as well. “It’s not like I’ll ever get another month long vacation to the desert again, will I?” she had reasoned to herself. “I might as well enjoy it.”


“It’s true.” Sakura said, laughing. “There really should be somebody to do all this for us.”


“Like a husband?”


“Like a very bored Uchiha!”


Sakura called out Sasuke’s name and he turned at the sound. When he caught sight of her, his face broke out into an uncharacteristic smile. Sakura waved him over. He moved across the crowded street quickly, coming to Sakura’s side immediately.


“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice low and seductive. Sakura shivered as he wrapped an arm around her waist. He pressed his lips to her temple, causing Sakura to shudder with delight. Ino’s brows rose in surprise. Sakura smirked slightly at her friend.


“Actually, yes. Can you carry these? I’ve been out all day, and I’ve still got another appointment…”


“Sure,” Sasuke said easily, taking the bags. Peeking inside, he grinned wolfishly. “Black. My favourite.”


Ino smiled at her friend knowingly then, handing her bags of to Sasuke as well. “We’re going to the tailor now. We’ve got to fit the robes. You’re welcome to come; otherwise you can just wait with the bags.”


Sasuke frowned at her ordering him around, but was mollified when Sakura kissed his lips lightly, a playful light dancing in her eyes. “Are you staying, or coming?”


“I’ll come,” he agreed, following the two women through the marketplace, none of them noticing the very distressed Hokage watching them through the window of a restaurant.




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“Fucking hypocrite!”


Her cry was punctuated by a dry sob and the projection of a breakable object across the room. This time, it was an empty sake bottle. Shizune sat nearby, supplying the Hokage with tissues as she drank and raged.


“Could have told her? She could have told me! One word, one fucking word, and I’d’ve picked a different girl! But now, she’s stuck, and…and…”


“And you feel horrible.” Shizune supplied. Tsunade nodded, her eyes shining with tears threatening to spill. She hated crying, and wasn’t looking forward to the looming event. “Now you’ll have to go to the wedding, and watch as the last Uchiha watches his lover marry a man she could never truly love, all for the sake of duty. Tragic, really.” Shizune was getting wistful, her romantic side taking over.


“Yes, Shizune, that’s the basic idea.” Tsunade snapped, “Did you see them? They were all over each other! She could have told me! Why didn’t I already know?” she shrieked, throwing a vase in the direction of the opening door. The silver haired man dodged it easily. He took in the sight of the weepy, drunken Hokage and her frazzled looking assistant.


“I’ll just…come back later.” he said quickly, darting out.


“Hey! Hatake!” He was nearly out the front doors when Shizune caught up with him. “Find Jiraiya.” she told the Copy Ninja quietly. “She’ll be drunk off her ass in no time, and he’ll be the only one who can talk some sense into her.”


Kakashi looked at her a long moment before nodding curtly and disappearing. Shizune heard another crash and hurried back upstairs to investigate.




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“Is this truly necessary?” asked Gaara, on the verge of ripping the building down around him. The elderly woman clucked her tongue thoughtfully.


“Yes.” she replied tersely, jabbing more pins into the fabric. “Honestly boy, you’ve got no meat on you. All muscle. Don’t you eat?”


“Yes. Small children and other mammals.”


The woman faltered for a moment, before frowning. “Lord Kazekage, I realize your impatience, it’s obvious you’ve got other things to do, but I swear, if you keep fidgeting, I will make you sorry.” He refrained from glaring at her. The old woman scowled at the fabric for a moment, before inserting another pin. She stepped back, smoothing her frazzled hair. It was dark brown; Gaara had the suspicion that she dyed it, and escaping the confines of the bun it was in.


Gaara tried to stay still. He was very uncomfortable, and he saw no reason for the robes to be fitted on him again. They had fit when he had first become Kazekage, why shouldn’t they fit now? Obviously this tailor was intent on making them as tight and confining as possible. He suppressed the urge to kill her on the spot for being so demanding of him. Didn’t anyone respect the Kazekage anymore?


Kill a few cubs, that would teach them all. Make them fear to speak your name.

Gaara pushed the bloodlust away, sighing in relief when the tailor released him, gathering his altered robes in her arms. She dumped them in a pile on her table. Gaara picked up his clothes and got dressed quickly. “When will the bride be coming in?” she asked, writing down some numbers on a notepad. Gaara blinked. What bride? Oh, right. That bride.


“She won’t be. The Lady Hokage requested her robes be sent to Konoha. A tailor there will see to her fitting. The Elders wanted her to arrive in the formal robes.” Gaara replied,


The old woman pursed her lips in disapproval. “Never saw much sense in those Konoha tailors. The Land of Fire seems to flaunt skin a tad too much for my liking. Not much they can do to sully the Kage robes, I suppose. Oh well, I’ll have to allow it. When is she arriving in Suna?”


Gaara floundered. When was Sakura supposed to arrive? He really had no idea. Soon, he assumed, else this robes fitting would have been put off. “Within a week,” his assistant supplied helpfully. The woman nodded, writing something down in her notepad.

“Send her around when she arrives.” the old woman ordered. “I’ll take care of a few things.”


She waved the Kazekage from her sight and Gaara left, his assistant at his heels. “Lord Kazekage, we got an answer from Lady Tsunade this morning. She informed us that Miss Haruno will be here in a week, after her birthday plans are settled in Konoha. Would you like something to be picked out for her birthday?”


A birthday present? Gaara hadn’t thought of that. “Yes,” he told the squirrelly man finally. “See that it happens. Nothing with sakura blossoms, either. She’s sick of that, I’m sure.”