Romancing the Kazekage- A Gaara Love Story

Fade to Legend

The prison cells in Sunagakure had never housed a woman, let alone a courtesan. They were unaccustomed to her delicate, dewy skin so only let in light from between the cracks of the wooden boards that blocked out a view of the sky. The cell was dingy, dusty and the iron bars looked like they could break when a little force was applied; the orangey-brown flakes of rust fell like autumn leaves from where the iron met the stone and settled in tidy piles at the door of her cell.

No, they were not accustomed to a woman, or any prisoner for that matter, so imagine the storm of whispers and rumours of shock and betrayal that swept up around the Village of Sand like a desert wind, as they all watched the moon being captured and shackled in the middle of the square. She had held her head high with dignity and poise as disbelieving tears filled their eyes and hands covered gaping mouths. They watched that delicate moonbeam being dragged straight out of the sky and into a pit. The village was met with silence. Unnerving and unwilling to face the reality; their delicate songbird had been accused of treason.

Ai sat now, on her knees, her head bowed as though in prayer, waiting for her guard to re-enter the complex. The dungeons of Sunagakure were kept under close watch by the head of the police; a middle-aged shinobi by the name Ishimaru. He had a kind but stern face, the sort of face Ai expected a father to have. He had greeted her with a look she had never seen in an adult's face; a look of disappointment. She refused to show any trace of emotion, any sign that they could bring her down from her stark position as a supporter of the Kazekage. She could barely understand the charges; when they had brought her in, they had rattled off something about security interference on her part and Shukaku's incarceration and then left her on her lonesome; with only the rust and brick for company. So she had remained in the same position for two days now; sat on her knees, hands clasped in her lap, sitting in the sole sunbeam that filtered in through the cracks between the wood above her. She had asked no questions and refused to answer any until Gaara returned.

The dancer lifted her gaze from the floor as she heard Ishimaru enter the dungeons with her breakfast. Her big blue eyes narrowed on him as he approached her cage. He had long brown hair, tied in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck, and strong masculine features. Ai imagined in his youth he must have been very handsome, but now his face was cracked and scratched like the desert plains for the stress of his job was beginning to manifest on his skin. He held a bowl of porridge and looked down at the girl who sat in the corner, at the back of her cell, with a sympathetic look.

"You won't eat, utsukushii (pretty one)?" He asked in his kind voice, only to be met with a haughty stare and a turn of her head so she was no longer looking at him. "You shouldn't be so difficult." He lowered the bowl through a small door and placed it inside her cage. Under his breath, he muttered: "I have enough trouble getting my Noriko to eat, and she is four!" Suddenly, Ai was angry. In her youthful, foolish, naive character, she finally broke her silence:

"I demand to know why I am being kept here!" She exclaimed. Ishimaru, who had a look of surprise on his face, as though he did not know she could speak, folded his arms.

"They explained that to you when you entered the cell." Ai frowned as he spoke; he was an odd man, he almost had a smirk on his face!

"No. They told me they had reason to believe I was involved in the assassination of the Kazekage but did not explain my links to the event exactly. I demand to know!" Ishimaru was smiling at her now and it infuriated Ai. She pouted and turned away from him, raising her head high with indignation.

"You remind me of my wife." He said suddenly. "She had a beautiful face and fierce temper." Ai raised an eyebrow and turned to face him. "It's so sad to think you are a courtesan." He mused a little longer, staring at Ai with a look of deep sympathy. "What kind of parent would give up their daughter to a whore house, I have no idea-"