The Prince

Gaara?

The Kazekage looked up as his name was whispered on the breeze that swept through his office. He waited a moment, his eyes darting this way and that, wondering who it was that whispered his name. But his office was empty; the only movement was the rustling of leaves that belonged to a pot plant, put next to his door by Temari. He thought no more of it and went back to his work.

I know you can hear me, Gaara.

He sighed; of course he knew the voice well, for it was a part of him since birth, it had spoken to him more than any human being for the demon was his only company in his lonely and desperate childhood. But Shukaku had not been speaking as much or as loudly over these last few years following Gaara's attempt to quieten the biju. Of late, however, it was proving difficult to shut him up. Gaara spoke to himself:

"It is unlike you, Shukaku, to talk nowadays without being addressed by me; perhaps you are forgetting the way we left things-"

The way YOU left things, you heartless boy! Cooping me up in here, without a moment for me to defend myself. It's positively sickening the way you've treated me. ME the demon-

"Get to the point, please; I have a lot of work to do now, I'm-"

Kazekage now! Oh yes, I keep forgetting in the moments you take for air before scolding me again-

"SHUKAKU." Without even realising it, Gaara had entered the plane on which he and Shukaku communicated face-to-face. He had materialised in front of the demon's cage so quickly, that Shukaku jumped back at the sight of him and trembled in the cage Gaara crafted for him. "Do not test my patience. What do you want?"

Gaara's subconscious was a dark, cold place, it took the form of his childhood bedroom; the place where he and Shukaku first became acquainted. He had built this setting in his mind and housed the demon in a large, sealed cage that seemed to hover in empty space where his bedroom door should have been. The crimson-haired shinobi stood in his room, amidst the horrible white light, surrounded by soft toys and presents, to face his biju who was curled up like a ball in his cage, his tail curling over his eyes to hide himself from the Kazekage. Gaara stood at the edge of the carpet where it faded away to the darkness which housed Shukaku.

The biju lifted his tail and saw that nonchalant, disinterested expression on Gaara's face and, out of frustration, moved viper-quick up to the bars of his cage, pushing his face against the red wood that imprisoned him. The wood strained and cracked against the pressure Shukaku put on the cage for he hurled himself at the ninja who kept him here, with all his might. His large black eyes bulged out of the space between the wooden bars, each eye the size of Gaara's skull, looking on at that arrogant jinchuriki with distaste. "Why did you send her away?!" The demon bellowed and shook the cage violently. It took a moment for Gaara to realise what the beast was asking and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Ai?" He asked and Shukaku whined.

"Yes!" The sand monster screeched, forcing Gaara to put a hand up to his eye and wince.

"Stop making that noise, it's irritating." As he spoke, Shukaku reduced his whine to a whimper. "My actions are no concern of yours." Those dark eyes flashed as the monster huffed, clearly unsatisfied with the answer, before he retreated back into the darkness. "What makes you think I would let her remain in my company, with you screeching her name every time I see her?" Shukaku's tail became limp and rubbed the ground as though the monster had become coy.

"I only wanted to speak with her." The biju protested. Gaara folded his arms.

"Of course you did," he replied sarcastically, "that was evident in the remarks you made about her skin and blood." There was a moment of silence before Shukaku whispered:

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't alone in those thoughts." The demon smirked.

"I wouldn't let you anywhere near her." The shinobi spoke loudly and at his words, the racoon-like monster stirred, his voice became deep and gentle:

"You care for her?" Shukaku asked. Gaara folded his arms with impatience.

"I care for anyone more than I care for your bloodlust." He retorted and let no emotion show on his face at all but Shukaku could see, in Gaara's gait, in his eyes, in the confident way he stood there, barely breathing, that something was new.

"No," Shukaku whispered, "…something's different about this one-"

"Be quiet." The Kaekage interrupted so quickly that Shukaku knew he hit a nerve. More than that, the demon pondered, this idiot of a boy didn't even know what he was getting himself into. Shukaku raised his head and gave a sickly smile.

"You," Shukaku's smirk widened to a deathly grin and his shoulders began to shake as he held in laughter at Gaara's ignorance.;"you don't know who she is, do you?" Try as he might, Gaara found it difficult to control his emotions; unwillingly he unfolded his arms and took a pose as though he were ready to fight.

"I'm not interested in your lies." Gaara said heatedly.

"Ahahahaha," Shukaku's booming laugher flooded Gaara's head, "you fool: caught Love staring you in the face and you dismiss her because she's a whore-"

"I dismissed her because of you!" Gaara tried to speak over the demon who was now rolling around in his cage in blissful satisfaction. "And she's a courtesan, not a whore-"

"So she can rattle off a bit of rhetoric; you're still paying for her aren't you?!" Shukaku bellowed through his laughter.

"I've had enough of this." Gaara said, shaking his head. As he felt himself sucked up back into reality, leaving the biju in his subconscious, he continued to hear Shukaku's taunts:

Ahahahaha, she came to him as bold as a full moon on a cloudless night and he sends her away! AHAHAHA!

Gaara snapped his eyes open, shook his head, looked around his office to make sure he was not disorientated, and went back to work. Shukaku continued to murmur and laugh in the pauses the Kazekage took from his work. The one tails was such a nuisance and continued to be one for the rest of the day.

"The Kazekage threw her out of his room, can you imagine?"

"I don't understand why she doesn't just give up and go back to the Tea House. Give Akina house a chance. We have decent performers."

"You know what Megumi is like; she only ever sings Ai's praises. Like the girl was dropped on Earth by the Creator himself: Ai is destined for Kage and royalty. It takes more than a pretty face-"

"Or a virgin."

"To seduce someone like the Kazekage. I think Gaara must have a very specific taste in women, that's why he got rid of her-"

"Years of being a psychopath and social embarrassment are bound to have given him some strange fetishes."

"To be fair, I can think of a few women who would happily indulge him." The giggles and rumours that drifted in through Ai's open window did nothing to console her. She was frustrated, torn, embarrassed and ashamed of what she had lead herself to believe. Gaara had played her for a fool and the shinobi had won. Ai had to forget about him, she had to leave him behind, in the depths of her mind and focus on the task at hand.

The dancer glanced up into her mirror and gave herself a reassuring look; seduce Nobutara, get Gaara the information that didn't exist (for she knew straight away the royals were not involved with the Akatsuki, only an idiot would think otherwise), report back to the Kazekage and leave the palace. Her gaze lowered from the mirror; leave the palace. Leave him behind.

"Ready?" Ai looked up again to see her teacher's reflection, stood by her door. Megumi walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder, lowered herself into the reflection in the mirror alongside Ai and smiled.

"You are so beautiful; Gaara is a fool for giving you up- ah!" Megumi gasped quietly as Ai shrugged her away and finished putting blush on her cheeks.

"Gaara is a fool regardless." Ai snapped impatiently and put her blusher brush back down on the table, before standing and correcting one of her three necklaces. Each pearl necklace was a different length to give the illusion of a single tiered necklace. She wore it with a dress the lightest shade of lilac and red lips, for what are more enticing, to calm the wild and wondering minds of men, than red lips? The colours, against her snow-white skin and raven-black hair, made her eyes look like crystal and her lips look like rosebuds.

As Ai was escorted out of her room with Megumi and they took the stairs down to one of the many courtyards in the palace, heads turned, whispers swept about the pair like butterflies. There was the girl who made the Kazekage create such a frenzy, before he abandoned her for more experienced women. Or: there was the girl who had seduced the demon, Gaara, before setting her sights on royalty. Either way, it did not paint a delicate picture of either of the pair, but Ai was determined to do her job well and finally be rid of these palace walls.

The courtyard she entered was smaller than the other she had danced in for it was the prince's private courtyard in the palace. It had those same white pillars shimmering like moonstone in the twilight hours, and white doves that fluttered around her as she entered. Megumi retreated to the darkness of the palace and left Ai to walk into the centre of the courtyard as though it were a stage, her anklets the only sound echoing in the stony square.

"I was a little surprised to receive an invitation to see you, Ai." At the sound of her name, Ai stole a sideways glance into the corridor that was housed by the pillars to see the prince stood, leaning lazily against the stone. She turned to him fully and smiled before bowing.

"I believe I am indebted to you, your highness," she replied and stood to her full height. The prince nodded and took a seat beside a low table. Ai sat before him, shimmering, glittering, sparkling as though the diamonds she wore were already dancing for her. The prince and courtesan looked on at each other with curiosity; both sat in colours near-white, feeling as though the outside world were forgotten, watching one another for a chance to glimpse a smile.

Nobutara was different to any royal she had ever encountered; good looking and good natured, his stare arrested all her thoughts. What would it be like, she wondered to be with someone so….simple? So beautiful and unaffected?

A harp struck a note, breaking her reverie but she did not break eye contact as she sat before the Prince and blood-red lips parted for her to sing:

"A weightless kite, a starling, I drifted through the sky at night.

The scent of jasmine on my hair lifted up to the stars

As I swayed, lost in a flurry of starlight and moonbeams,

My sight caught hold of him and he locked unto my heart.

I found a fellow traveller, waiting, like me, for someone.

Hoping, like me, for someone.

At his gaze, the night stilled, the breeze that carried me to heaven was extinguished,

And like a fallen star, I fell down to Earth, only to be caught by him.

After moments, barely breathing, barely swaying,

He heard destiny call his name for greater things.

He wove his black magic into the kohl of my eyes

And like the moon, I was alone again." There was a dip in the music as though someone struck the wrong note; the musicians were waiting for Ai to sing the next line but something had stopped her. As the harp player lead the rest of her accompanying ensemble, Ai's head tilted to the sky and shot the moon a look of distaste. There was a figure watching from a distance and her eyes narrowed on him. Unmistakably, unashamedly, the Kazekage stood watching from a higher floor.

Infuriated, is not a word that does justice to the way Ai felt, as she watched Gaara watch her. Angry questions tumbled, stumbled over each other into her mind as she took a breath to stop herself from calling him out from his hiding place. Did he not think she was capable of doing her job? This was courtesan territory, this mission was hers alone. Gaara: so controlling, so unyielding, so overbearing. That fool was more trouble than he was worth.

The musicians, who were looking at one another out of the corner of their eyes, were all wondering if the usually flawless performer had forgotten her own song but as they looked on they became aware that Ai had not forgotten the song, she was changing it. Bringing her right hand to meet her right ankle, she began tapping on the chains that bound he feet. She was changing the rhythm of the song and the musicians, who knew Ai well, followed her lead and seamlessly, an untrained eye or ear could never tell, the song changed. The drumbeat echoed over the harps now, filling the courtyard with something like a war song, signalling attack. The tinkling of chimes and anklets no longer sprinkled over the song as though floating through the breeze towards the audience; each tap, each jingle of a bell seemed purposeful, defined, awake.

The Prince, who assumed the last few moments had all been for dramatic effect, leaned in a little to see Ai almost scoff in disbelief before continuing the performance:

"Wanderer, abandon any false pretension that you have scarred me," even the way she sang changed. No longer was she the nightingale, no longer was there a sweetness to every note she sang; her of; her voice was filled to the brim with an arrogance.

"Once we met I tied a thread of fate to you, of debt to you,

So your heart will not release its intoxication of me.

Each moment passes you is coiled with sighs of your lonesome nature.

Nights without me will see you restless

My eyes may be filled with your curse but you are left with nothing but the sight of me;

Your want of me will drive you to madness and see you search above heaven for the girl you swore was the moon." The dancer scoffed and tore her gaze away from the sky..

"As though I would be wrapped in some dark cloud of the monsoon,

As though the night could hold me.

Search beneath the oceans, wanderer, you may find some trace of my beauty there.

You are wounded by my affection, dear one, handsome one, dark one.

Accede to your devotion of me and I will unlock our last night from your eyes.

Freedom and imprisonment come in the form of Love, dear one."

The drum beat stopped, the harps struck their last note that seemed to carry on into the night as though they were perplexed and undue of how to stop themselves. Nobutara stood and watched the girl as she seemed to shake her head at someone on a higher floor. What a strange turn the song took; almost as though Ai had performed a song half-written, as though the tale had not reached its true ending.

What a strange, beautiful, elusive creature she was. So full of fire and sweetness and ache; the courtesan stirred the curiosity of many and the Prince found that he too had been caught under her spell. The man stood as the musicians exited the courtyard and Ai rose to her feet slowly, her coyness came back to her as she looked a little flustered.

"As much as I appreciated your poetry, Ai," she jerked in surprise for, as the prince spoke, he turned away from her and began to walk back into his room, "I believe it was a bangle, that was owed to me." Ai took a quick glance up to the floor that Gaara was on but he had vanished. Good, she thought, with him out of the way she could do what she was sent here to do. Ai took a breath and followed the prince, walking by swaying her hips in a slow deliberate manner.

Once he was in the room, Nobutara turned back to her and sat on the end of his bed, watching her approach him. Ai entered the room and stole a hidden glance around; everything about him was golden, rich and warm. From the lavish silk bedsheets he so cooly lounged on, to the colour in his eyes, so dark and arresting. Ai smiled at him from his doorway before lifting her left hand up to her face. Everything was thought out, every careful movement, every delicate glance, was seduction and Ai was accomplished in it.

With her elbow lifted, she left her left hand hang limp besides her face. Nobutara leant back and sighed a little as he found he could not focus on the gold bangles on her wrist when they were placed so close to her red lips. Ai kept her gaze lowered, on her bangles and gently, began to slip them off her wrist with her other hand. The sound of them clattering on the marble floor seemed to make the candles in the room quiver in fear for they flickered and shimmered on her face as the prince watched her.

When Ai's wrist was bare, she finally looked up to him.

"They are yours," she whispered.

"And you?" What a commanding, authoritative voice he had. The courtesan took of a brooch that was placed on her shoulder and the silk she wore slipped from her figure, caressing her curves as it fell to the floor.

"Yours."

Sleeping with the prince was not at all how Ai had expected. It still hurt, she was unsurprised by that but his manners, the way he treated her, was shocking. Nobutara was playful, slow and affectionate; it was almost as though sex came second to spending time with her. They spoke and laughed while he held her hand and kissed her neck. He seemed to adore her, to be completely at ease and happy. The Prince even made her giggle with kisses and bites as he explored her body. Sex with him was fun and not as intense as her first time, Ai relaxed in his arms and even smiled when he felt bad that sex was too painful to see her climax. What a strange man, that he should care for her pleasure.

They slept soon after and before she drifted into dreams Ai confirmed her plans in her head; she would question him at breakfast.

"AI!?"

"Ah!" Ai woke with a start to the sound of her name being screamed. She sat bolt upright, the sound of her heart pounding in her chest was flooding her ears as she strained to listen for him again. She was breathing heavily, shaking with shock, looking around the dark room as though Gaara was near her.

But there was nothing. No one. The room was empty except for her and Nobutara who lay soundlessly asleep, unperturbed by the shout she was so sure she heard. But the silence stretched on, her heart slowed, her breathing returned to normal. She glanced to the prince who lay beside her, his dark hair flopped onto his handsome face in a way that made her smile.

Ai's smirk faded as she thought of the shout she heard; perhaps it was a dream? Perhaps Gaara had not called out for her? She threw off the bedsheets and got out of the bed slowly, being careful not to wake Nobutara. Once up, she walked to the full length mirror that sparkled in the corner of the room and placed her white night robe on. She needed fresh air, it would be fine to step out into the courtyard at this time.

She stole a glance at the mirror and pushed her hair to one side. Ai stood in the silvery light of the moon and looked at herself as though to reassure her that she was not going mad. Her robe was made of an opaque white chiffon, figureless but almost dreamlike, the soft waves of white silk flowed around her. The material was pinned by a silver brooch in between her breasts, giving the robe a very low neck which Ai had always liked but never been allowed to wear. She sighed as she retreated from the mirror and walked out into Nobutara's courtyard.

The night air was crisp and cool as she took a deep breath; this is what she needed, a moment just to clear her h-

Ai's thoughts of relaxation were interrupted as she came across an unusual sight on the palace balconies opposite her, a few floors up. The lights were on. Dark figures were running back and forth, on closer inspection they were shinobi. It was the middle of the night, what were they all doing up at this hour? Ai took a step forwards and strained her eyes to see in the darkness that the shinobi were all carrying scrolls. Red ribbons with lead weights on the ends, tied the scrolls together. That was generally how sealing scrolls were fastened. Why would they have sealing scrolls on them?

Ai's breathing stopped all at once. That was the Kazekage's quarters she was looking at.

It took a moment for her brain to fully comprehend what was happening.

"Gaara." She whispered before picking up the skirt of her robe and running.