Romancing the Kazekage- A Gaara Love Story

Lessons from Lady Karura

The month of August passed with muted colours and deathly heat. The Kazekage remained unseen most of the time; he very rarely left the palace and the village felt the pain of his loss. Sunagakure was living as though in mourning; the festive and jubilant atmosphere that Ai and Gaara's relationship had created was no replaced with a sombre and even bitter ambience. Villagers would pass by the palace, hoping to sneak a glimpse of the Kazekage as he walked from a meeting to his office but there was no sign of him; the palace seemed empty.

Only Gaara's siblings knew of what was happening behind closed doors; Gaara remained in silence most days, only speaking to them if he needed work done urgently. The Kazekage sometimes missed meetings or cancelled his lessons with elders and other shinobi at short notice. Gaara had drawn back into himself; barely uttering a word to anyone, not greeting his students with the usual nod of his head. Twice that month, Temari or Kankuro would find Gaara slumped over his office desk, breathing heavy, an empty bottle of sake rolling under his desk. Temari could barely stand it; her little brother had had to endure so much and now he had to intoxicate himself when the pain of being alone became too much. He had hated the taste, the smell, the feeling of intoxication only a month ago. Now, however, it seemed he was living to plan the nights where he could get away with it. It was, in Temari's opinion, the sick and twisted fate of a childhood of neglect. Not only that, Kankuro mused, it was this bizzare, almost magical, fantastical experience Gaara was having that caused him to drink. He mumbled to them in his unconscious state about hearing Ai's voice, about hearing Shukaku. Kankuro had ever suggested Gaara come with him, back to the Tea House, to remember that there are other women out there in the world. But it was no use. The siblings were at their wits end; who could they call upon to talk sense into their little brother?

It was Temari who thought of her. Hana-sama, Gaara's tutor in everything outside of the shinobi world, was a kind and pragmatic woman. With an aged face, thin and translucent like paper, Hana came with wisdom and grace to rival any scholar. Surely she, who had watched Gaara grow up, who had taught him since childhood, would know a few wise words to say to this lost soul?

Now, she ascended the steps to his office, taking slow, careful steps, wincing at the pain in her hips with every movement. She wore a simple, blossom pink kimono and had her hair tied in her usual tight bun that sat proudly on top of her head. As she approached the door to the Kazekage's office, she panted a little, reflecting on the fact that it was clear she was not long for this world. Without knocking, she entered Gaara's office.

"What is this selfish nature of yours, Kazekage, that you refuse to see me three weeks in a row?" As she spoke, Gaara jumped slightly, away from his book shelf from which he had taken a brown aged book from. He bowed to her as she entered, his long red cloak licking the floor as he did so.

"My deepest apologies, Hana-sama," he sounded sincere and stood again, "I have been busy with work-"

"Nonsense." As she spoke, she noticed Gaara stop as though she was going to carry on, as though she was going to make the conversation a little more light-hearted. But the woman did not; she simply called his excuse nonsense and stood waiting for him to say more. The Kazekage was a little disturbed by this sudden interruption and recovered from it before walking over to his desk and saying casually:

"I-I have a backlog of missions to review-"

"Nonsense." Again, Gaara stopped at his desk chair. That single word that saw right through him. He had been ignoring her and everyone else in his council, but Gaara thought he was doing it very stealthily. It seemed Hana-sama was not buying into his ruse.

"They are," Gaara spoke slowly, lowering himself into his chair, trying to figure out if she had figured him out, "pressing matters."

"Non-"