Naruto Tales: The Next Uchiha | SasuSaku, NaruHina, InoShikaTema, NejiTen +

XXXVI: Fifty Shades of the Kazekage

QOTC: Gaara: Bed.

Hotaru:I woke and you weren't there.

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Chapter 36: Fifty Shades of the Kazekage

It was a wonderful night. Hotaru wasn't in the jailcell anymore, but she was cuddling next to Gaara below the star-studded sky.They were outside, barefoot, the sand laying soft on their skin. They kiss, the sand dragging Hotaru closer as he pulls her in his arms. It's a mystery how ninjas seem different whenever they aren't in any battle. They just talk, flirted, Hotaru doing most of it. Then he took her hand. He brought her into his room.

The red-haired nin runs a finger along her neck, her jawline, and then cup her chin in his hand. And stop. They stand there for a moment, staring at each other, savoring it. He was whispering something, something that made the kunoichi laugh and blush. And then all at once, they slam together. Hotaru's legs are off the ground, as she giggled, wrapped around his waist, her hands digging in his spiky hair, his hands tangled in hers. And their lips. There isn't enough skin, enough spit, enough time, for the lost years that their lips are trying to make up for as they find each other. They kiss. The electric current switches to high. The lights throughout all of Suna must be surging.

Everything made no sound. It happened so fast. Gaara's kiss trails into her neck, to her jawline, each peck implanting a feather-like touch on her skin. He was mumbling something like 'don't go,' but Hotaru couldn't find her words. He kissed her again, pulling her at the edge of the bed. He started zipping her torso, and there was a heavenly smirk that curved on the Kazekage's lips.

When Hotaru was awake, it's still dark. She had no idea how long she's slept. She stretches out beneath the comforter, and she feels sore, deliciously sore. Gaara is nowhere to be seen. She sits up, staring out at the cityscape in front of me. There are fewer lights on amongst the townhouses of Suna, and there's a whisper of dawn in the east. She could hear the music. The lilting notes of the piano, a sad, sweet lament. It was beautiful.

She slipped on a robe Gaara left on the table, the soft silk massaging every stiff part of her body. Quietly padding into lodge, she followed where the music leads her, careful not to disrupt his siblings.

Gaara is at the piano, completely lost in the music he's playing. His expression is sad and forlorn, like the music, the fairy-nin observed. She didn't know Suna was engaged in modern music. Leaning against the wall at the entrance, Hotaru wondered if this is what the Kazekage does on his alotted time, enraptured. He sits shirtless, his body bathed in the warm light cast by a desolate freestanding lamp beside the piano. With the rest of the large room in darkness, it's like he's in his own isolated little pool of light, untouch-able... lonely, in a ripple...

So she pad quietly toward him, enticed by the sublime, melancholy music. She was mesmerized watching his long skilled fingers as they find and gently press the keys, thinking how those same fingers have expertly handled and caressed her slender body. She smiled at the memory and pressed her thighs together. When he glances up, his unfathomable blue-green orbs bright, expression unreadable.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to, er—disturb you..." Hotaru whispers.

A frown shifts across his face. He finishes playing and placed his hands in his legs. "You should be in bed." He admonishes.

"That was a beautiful piece."

"Composed by Toshiro Masuda," he whispered. "It has a sad, melancholy melody in it." His lips quirk a light smile.

"Bed," he ordered. "You'll be exhausted in the morning."

"I woke and you weren't there."

"I couldn't sleep." he murmurs. Hotaru can't fathom his mood. He seems a little dismissive, but it's difficult to tell in the darkness. Perhaps it was the tone of the piece he was playing. He puts his arm around the blushing fairy-nin and gently walks her back to the bedroom.

"How long have you been playing? You play beautifully."

He was silent for a moment. "Since I killed my own uncle."

"Oh." Gaara as a seven or eight-year-old boy... Hotaru's mind conjures an image of a beautiful, auburn-haired little boy with pale eyes and my heart melts - a juvenile-haired kid who likes impossibly sad music. "Sorry,"

Gaara clambers in besides the fairy-nin, and pulls her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around the sleeping beauty so that she's against him. He kisses her hair gently, then he inhales deeply.

"Sleep, sweet Hotaru," he murmurs, and she closes her eyes, but she can't help feel a re-sidual melancholy either from the music or his true story. The Kazekage has a sad side. She could hear him whispering something, as he gently nuzzled her ear, so sad and broken. "You don't really have to go."

                                              ≫≫ TᕼE ᑎE᙭T ᑌᑕᕼIᕼᗩ ≫≫

                                              FAIRIES AND VAMPIRES ALIVE

*creek*

As Hotaru flicked her eyes open, she blinked repeatedly, savoring the sweet and quickly-fading mantra from the man she's slept with.

It's only a dream, she thought. Perhaps the poison is starting to cause her some hallucinations. The swirling motifs from her shoulder was gleaming, shimmering in golden sparks. Her grandmother used to tell her that when the mark burns, it's a sign that one is ready to embrace their death.

Matsuri brought a pillow with her, and something from the corner of her nose left her mouth watery. Blood.

She slid the pillow and a bowl; where the blood was coming from. "Hotaru-san, you need to hurry before Temari-san sees you. Gaara-sensei told me to bring these for you."