Trouble on the Temple Steps

Sex, when filled with love, becomes something rare and precious to mortals. Eyes filled with nothing but affection, gentle gasps of delight and the soft brushing of fingertips against bare skin, can make even the most cynical of humans bear witness to something magical. Like flowers in the sunshine, any woman can unfurl when a man looks at you, but only Ai was lucky enough to suffer from Gaara's love. For he, who never knew how to touch something as gentle as a moonbeam, could not help but let his love chain her to him and bind her to his every whim.

Gaara was hopelessly in love with Ai; like the tide to the moon, he was pulled towards her by forces unknown and unexplainable. He loved to watch her delicate figure cease up and her hair unfurl as her head trashed in ecstasy. More than that, beyond anything physical or human, Ai and Gaara found themselves amidst the heat and frenzy of the blood-love. He longed to cool his heated brow against her cold beauty and she loved to feel every inch of her body burn in lust for him. They sat up for hours every night, in each tower's embrace, vowing never to let one another go. On these nights, both left the Earth and found themselves somewhere near paradise.

The young Kazekage had lost himself in Love, until he was no longer himself. He could not recall her name, nor his, for all they were was Love.

***

Two months had passed since Gaara's return and the village had seen many changes. The place still jubilant, still ecstatic and uplifted; gifts were still being sent to the palace every day to bless the Kazekage, his family and his Love. Villagers would request meetings with the Kazekage to hear his advice on all sorts of curious topics. They all seemed to forget that Gaara was only nineteen! He was no better equipped to answer their inquires than another teenager in the village. He was a shinobi, not a farmer or a jeweller or a carpenter or an architect, and yet…they valued his opinion. They all knew he was right, the moment he had said it; Gaara brought the beginning of fortuitous days.

The village's opinion of Gaara was not the only thing that had changed since his return. His students, his female students, all looked on at him as he walked past them, with sorrowful, heartbroken glances. Temari and Kankuro, who often only spoke to Gaara when it was necessary, were now wandering into his office at all hours to discuss meaningless and frivolous things. Gaara was learning things about them he had never even thought to ask about before. Only the other day, Kankuro had barged into his office and announced that Gaara should learn tehonbiki, a gamblers game; if Gaara were to ever meet with a few feudal lords, he should know how to cheat. Needless to say Gaara threw his brother out of his office before the playing cards had even hit his desk. Temari also sauntered in occasionally, and had once even asked if she could visit Konoha for a while. When Gaara asked why, Temari became angry and told him that he should understand by now. But Gaara had no idea what she was talking about. It was an odd, confusing and chaotic time for the young Kazekage and finding peace in his own village was becoming difficult.

Now, the Kazekage sat at his desk, reading through papers, grateful for a moment of silence. As he signed off another proposed mission for a group of chounin, he put down his pen and reached over for a clay cup of jasmine tea. It was warm and fragrant and gave him a second to breathe. He glanced up at the clock. It was almost four in the afternoon, the working day would be over in three more hours and he could call Ai down from whatever balcony she was perched on. At the thought of her, he smiled.

The past two months had passed as though from some sort of dream. Gaara had to remind himself that this was his life now, that he had finally gained the respect and trust of his village, all thanks to that glittering moonbeam he had chanced upon in the Spring. Ai tumbled into his life and brought with her an end to his solitude, an end to his grief. She had opened up new worlds to him, ones he did not think it were possible to find on earthly planes.

Sex, which had once been completely alien to him, now clustered together with his instincts for violence and love for her in some strange, twisted, romantic way and resulted in nights of Gaara completely losing himself to lust. Ai was, of course, trained in the art of love making but her gentle nature and delicate figure were merely a catalyst to the Kazekage's appetite for her. Without Shukaku,Ai and Gaara assumed that it would be safer for them but they were wrong. Gaara had been so used to keeping his guard up when he was a jinchuriki that, without Shukaku, he had no gauge on his emotions. It was like feeling everything all over again, for the first time. Without the pressure to restrain himself, Gaara had caused Ai pain without meaning to. It was not as though he were completely to blame though. Ai pushed him, teased him, tested him, showed him things he could never have imagined of and made him beg her to do it again. Sex with Ai was a twisted, beautiful, violent and loving affair. One which Gaara, a cynical and apathetic man, would call as close to the divine as he dared.

The divine, Gaara pondered over this thought for a moment. He had heard whispers in the corridors, from courtesans and palace members, that the blood-love had returned to earth. He had heard about it, of course he had, great poems and legends were written around the relationship of Renai and her lover, Senso. Was it true? Was this that legendary, divine love? How could it be when he had been denied love for so long? How did it make any sense to suddenly be at the centre of an ancient love story?

"Gaara?" The Kazekage looked up as his elder sister entered the room. "Do you have the reports?"

"Yes, here you are, Temari." Gaara stood and picked up a sheaf of papers from his desk. He walked over and handed them to his elder sister. She smiled at him.

"At the temple." Gaara raised an eyebrow as she spoke. "The answer to your question." She responded to his quizzical look and laughed as he smiled bashfully. "Go and see her, it will be a while until you see one another again." Temari left with a faint smile as Gaara nodded his agreement.

The walk to the temple in the centre of the village was quiet that afternoon; most villagers were at work and the children must have been in school. In fact, Gaara did not see anyone on his walk and he was grateful for it- he was never one to welcome attention with such open arms. As he approached the temple in the square, the bells began to chime from the towers above, as he ascended the steps that lead to the entrance. At the sound of the bells, white doves fluttered out of the temple with haste, escorting a figure, dressed in silver, who was walking out into the sunshine.

"Kazekage," a girl nodded to him with a barely-concealed smirk, as she left the temple, leaving Gaara to stare at the back of her in surprise. Ai forever loved to irk him. He lowered his gaze and shook his head with feigned annoyance. The pair stood back to back as he spoke.

"Have you so easily forgotten me?" Gaara asked, making the girl stop in her tracks. Ai smirked to herself and spoke clearly like a birdsong into the morning:

"The sea does not remember the shore with which she so fleetingly visits." As she spoke, Gaara smiled before turning to her.

"I am not the shore." He humoured her before kneeling down at the top of the temple steps and gently clasping hold of the end of her silvery veil that trailed so freely behind her.

"Then?" Ai turned to him suddenly and tried to stop a look of surprise crossing her face as she came upon the sight of him kneeling; what was he going to to? She appraised him, lifting an eyebrow, pouting at him as though daring him to answer her. "You are broad and strong; a cliff, perhaps?" Gaara pulled her veil taught, causing the colour to rise in Ai's cheeks; she knew what he was planning.

"You have named me before, Ai." Gaara whispered dangerously. And it was that flash of malevolence in his eye that Ai recognised. She gave a small smile.

"The tempest." She whispered, barely noticing Gaara begin to pull her veil towards himself.

"Which cuts through the sea-" He pulled her veil a little harder, forcing her onto her knees before the temple steps.

"Ah!"

"Controls it, tortures it, makes it write for mercy." As he spoke, her eyes filled with remorse, begging him not to continue. But Gaara, being Gaara, wanted her. He did not stop, he continued to pull her veil so her head was brought down to the step in front of him. Ai practically lay on the temple steps before him.

"We are on the steps of a temple, you blasphemous fool." She whispered, their eyes locked.

"And you are desperate," Gaara murmured, moving closer to her, "helpless, to the need to sin with me." Ai could not stand it any longer; his stare, his lips, his touch, she needed it now.

"Take me to the palace." She breathed.

"Later." Gaara dropped her veil and stood suddenly. "I must speak with a monk here." And with that, he left, leaving an open-mouthed Ai staring after him.

***

Gaara was hunched over his desk, reading through a long and very boring mission report. He had stood in an attempt to make his boredom lift a little. It did no such thing.

"Yes?" Gaara spoke as the door to his office opened. He stole a quick glance at the clock beside the door; there was only a half hour of the working day left. Then he and Ai could…but his thoughts stopped at once as that silvery nymph walked into his office. "Ai?" He stood gently and spoke her name softly, wondering why she would come to him early.

The girl, who had kept her eyes cast down, let her gaze gentle trail along the floor, up to him. The way she flicked her eyelashes up in the last moment, a soft smirk on her face, the gentle jingle of her jewellery, was enough to tell Gaara what she wanted. Before he had time to react, she lowered herself to her knees. Gaara stood straight, looking intrigued.

"Now?" He asked, trying to hide his excitement. Ai nodded, her eyes softening into a come-hither stare. "Here?" He asked a little more urgently. Again, Ai said nothing, simply nodded. He came to stand in front of her, curious to see if she was being sincere or if this was punishment for abandoning her at the temple. "I have papers to sign." He reminded her as though he would not heed her call, but something still pulled him to his knees in front of her.

"Sign them later," she whispered, kissing his neck.

"I have council members to meet." Gaara protested, although somehow his Kazekage robe fell from his shoulders as Ai's lips found his.

"Meet them later," Ai advised, taking a deep kiss while he was distracted with pulling her veil from her head.

"I have students to teach." He pleaded with her as Ai removed her blouse and lay down, pulling Gaara on top of her.

"Teach them later." Ai giggled as he kissed her, opening her legs to welcome him into embrace. Instinctively, her hand travelled from his neck, along his shoulder and arm, to grasp his hand. What she found there, however, surprised her. She pulled away from him and looked to his hand. Gaara smiled guilty as Ai saw the pen in his hand, attempting to sign the last report of the day that had somehow ended up on the floor beside them. Ai stared at him indignantly before grabbing the pen.

"Ai, no!" But it was too late; keeping eye contact with Gaara, Ai drew a thick, black line straight down the middle of the report. She threw the pen across the room and looked at him as tough daring him to speak. "Such is your vanity that you will not come second to my work?" The dancer said nothing, simply stared at him, wondering what he was going to do. "Why do you do this, Ai?" He whispered to her, looking down at her lips, his mouth watering. "Now I have no choice." His hand followed the curve of her waist, along her breasts and up to her neck. There, he held her with a little pressure. "Why do you insist on me causing you a little pain?" He asked her but Ai had begun to smile, she helped him to lift up her skirt so he could make love to her.

The girl could not explain it, neither could Gaara. What was it about a little pain, a little control, a little madness that made this so much better? Sometimes, Ai let him use her entirely, and she did not seek her own pleasure. It was enough for her, to satisfy him. Perhaps it was her courtesan upbringing that made her so keen to please, or perhaps it was the odd combination of being his slave and his goddess at the same time. She didn't know. But he never let her stop to think too much about it.

That evening passed like this; with Ai clinging to him, moaning underneath him as he fucked her with such frenzied lust that neither had time to remove their clothes. It was the strangest mix of beautiful and painful Ai had ever experienced. In his last moments before climax, Ai was surprised when Gaara looked down to her and kissed her with tenderness.

"I love you," he whispered to her before his body began to shake and tremble with pleasure. As Gaara peeled himself away from her, Ai fell into his embrace on the floor.

"Are you ready to leave tonight?" She asked softly.

"Yes," Gaara replied, slightly breathlessly. "I will miss you." He smiled a little; he couldn't remember ever missing anyone.

"Do not forget me." She looked up at him and the Kazekage kissed her softly.

"Never," he assured her.

***

Endo Yori had lived through the reign of three Kazekage's; the third was his nephew who met his demise to Sasori of the Akatsuki. The Akatsuki. That damned group of outlaws, of fallen ninja, shameful, disobedient characters who putrified the earth with the stink of their sins. The fourth Kazekage, Raza, had been a great shinobi of his time; pragmatic and loyal, he turned sour under the influence of Orochimaru. Yori had even been there, the day the youngest child of the third Kazekage was born.

He remembered Raza exiting the hospital room where his wife lay, preparing to give birth, his hands shaking, his lips turning a blueish hue; something was wrong. Yori could remember putting a hand on Raza's shoulder as he sat beside him, and whispering something secret to him. Something that gave the Kazekage an idea. All knew too well that the village of Sand was under threat of extinction; the weapons and shinobi they produced were not up to the same standards as other villages. So what if, from an ancient iron tea kettle, could come forth a great asset to the village? Raza could not deny that it was a shining opportunity for Sunagakure, a glimmering beacon of hope that he could hold up to his people and announce that the world should fear the village of Sand once more.

Yori had been an older shinobi, the day of Gaara's birth. He had looked on in hope and triumph as the child wept in the arms of his slowly dying mother. But that was the last time Gaara gave Suna a reason to believe in him. He was born into the world out of the death of his own mother. And after that a trail of death, destruction and devastation was left behind that malevolent boy who smirked and stirred with anticipation as he itched to kill again. Some of the softer, more gentle elders of the village could not see through those opal eyes that charmed them with warmth and skill and clarity. But Yori could see it, just as he saw it the moment Karura's hands fell limp around the child. Gaara was the epitome of evil.

And now, Yori's knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists at the thought of it, he was Kazekage! And to add salt to an expanding wound, the treacherous boy had taken a whore for a partner! It disgusted him, repulsed him, to see his village become this. And they all spoke about her so fondly! Villagers, elders, shinobi and alike, all spoke of the two star-crossed lovers, claiming they were the first on earth to witness the blood-love. Yori took a sip of bitter, cold tea as he winced in disgust. Blood-love! That wretched, unsightly, unholy, unworthy whore had cursed them all with some enchantment! Just as Gaara had done! And many had sat back and let this happen! Well now, it had gone too far. The Kazekage and his courtesan were in the public eye, the reputation of the village would be in tatters by the Winter. Not under Endo Yori's watchful gaze. He would be sure to put things right.

Two months had passed since Gaara's return and much had changed, and was still changing, in the village. Many were jubilant, the palace was often in chaos of celebration and even the younger shinobi had gained a new lease of life. Everyone saw the shallow and superficial improvements of the village to be to the credit of the hopeless Kazekage. That girl, Ai, had remained in the palace as a guest- scrounging on the kindness of the higher ups! That was Yori's ancestors' hard work and riches she so frivolously took for granted. She was asked to leave the Tea House and renounce her title as a courtesan but she was yet to do so. It was shameful, what the village of Sand had become; in awe of a young whore!

Sitting in an underground meeting room, Yori now took another sip of his tea, swirling the bitter and sour contents of his cup in his mouth, swishing it around his teeth with eager hastiness; he wanted the meeting to start quickly. Around a large round table, sat many of the elders of the village, and even younger shinobi, all ready to partake in the destruction of the Kazekage. Yori's thin and fragile arms emerged out of the sleeves of his robe as he clasped his hands together in front of him and rested his chin against his finger tips, his long white beard falling onto the table. Those gathered around the table fell quiet as Yori took this position every time he was about to speak.

"Friends," Yori began, his voice rattling out of his throat as though he had never spoken before, "the time is near."

"We have waited months!" A younger shinobi spoke out of turn and was immediately silenced by another village elder:

"Hold your tongue! This is not a simple matter of assassination!" An elder called across the table.

"Indeed," Yori continued, nodding his head in agreement, "our previous attempts to remove the Kazekage from his position have been easily thwarted. This," Yori held up a single finger, "this requires time and thought. We must not grow impatient!" The old man shouted and brought his fist down on the table suddenly, making those around him jump. "We all know what is to happen?" There was a general murmur of agreement around the table. "Good, now be gone." As members of the rebellion against Gaara stood from the table, Yori turned to the shinobi next to him. "I notice were are missing a few of our friends. See to it that they are never seen again." With that, and on shaking legs, Yori stood slowly to leave.

Ai was smiling down at a village mother who was handing her a basket of fruit in the main hall of the temple in the square. It was just after dusk; there was a little sunlight to see the village and the lamps were being lit in the street. Inside the temple, beneath candlelight, Ai took the basket with a warm smile; it was beautifully tied together with blue and green ribbon, affectionately chosen as the colour of Ai and Gaara's eyes.

"I trust the Kazekage and his siblings left in good time?" The mother asked sweetly.

"They did." Ai responded as she looked into the basket full of sweet, juicy mangos and plums.

"And they shall return…?"

"In a few days, not to worry." Ai assured her. Many of the villagers did not want Gaara to leave them again since his abduction. But Ai stood faithfully by the statement that he was stronger and wiser with their support.

"Goodnight, my dear." The woman said, wrapping a shawl around herself as she exited the temple.

"Goodnight. Thank you again!" Ai called to her before placing the basket by the other offerings to the gods. the priest would bless them in the morning. With a quick doe of her head to the deities in the hall, Ai picked up her skirt and left the temple. She came across the sight of the village at night; with the bustle of villagers walking from shops to restaurants to their homes, the air was thick and warm with the smell of honeysuckle. Ai smiled around at the scene and proceeded to descend the temple steps.

"Ai?" At the sound of her name, on the last step, Ai turned slightly to see Baki, Gaara's teacher and advisor, stood with a group of shinobi. The look on his face was solemn, it wiped the smile from Ai's lips.

"Yes?" Ai said softly, aware that the men around Baki had begun to shuffle towards her with an unspoken aggression.

"You are under arrest for high treason by attempted assassination of the Kazekage."