Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ To Hold the Moon ❯ To Hold the Moon ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Throughout the first twelve years of my life, I’d always believed I’d had everything I could ever want. Sure, there had been some downsides to it, but those were only natural. Everyone has their off days. But other than that, my life could be seen as nothing other than a paragon.
The only terrible memories I have, really, would have to be when I was little--when the other children liked to bully me for the size of my forehead. But even then, I had Ino. My best friend, and eventual rival for the affections of Uchiha Sasuke. Yet, despite the harsh words we sent each other during our time as enemies, there was never any true fire behind them.
I was a Genin. I had friends, family, and while I had little true skill as a shinobi, I did not mind. I had love to make up for it.
It was one-sided love. I knew that. But my mind and heart both refused to acknowledge this, thinking and feeling that if I could just show him enough it would be reciprocated. And for I while I’d believed it to be true. After all, I was the one he leaned on for support when he was wounded; I was the one who got to see his rare smiles; I was the one who he at least spoke to--even if it was just to call me annoying or criticize me. I loved him enough that I could overlook that.
Such was my life. To me, everything was perfect. All the little pieces of my life came together to form a full moon I could cup in my palms, close to my heart.
But everyone knows the saying--all good things must come to an end. It’s inevitable, really.
That doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.
I want to say that it began when Sasuke left for Orochimaru, but my heart tells me this is not so. The perfected illusion that was my life began to fall apart much earlier than that. Just before we met the Sand Siblings, in fact.
After so many years of rejection, Sasuke’s most recent shouldn’t logically have had any effect on me. But for some reason, it did.
“No.”
One word.
“You’re annoying.”
Two words.
“Give up, Sakura.”
Three words.
Never in my life, had those six, simple words hurt so much.
But I hid it, like I always did in the face of his condescension. It would ebb, like usual, but it wouldn’t truly wane until I met the eyes of an angel.
Gods, his eyes. When I’d chased Naruto and Konohamaru to the elder Sand Siblings, I’d had no idea that in just moments, I’d be seeing the most beautiful shade of crystalline cyan eyes. The moment he’d glanced my way--oh, so briefly--and our eyes had met, the pain had alleviated. Just like that, it was gone.
I could breathe easier.
This reaction was caused, I believe, due to the fact that I saw something in his eyes I recognized.
Rejection.
His was sharper than mine, however. There was more mixed in with his, as well. Betrayal, loss, pain. Emotions I’d only had tastes of ran on in an everlasting smorgasbord in his twin crystals.
For the moment our gazes connected, I felt a kinship with this boy. He of all people could understand, could empathize. But if he felt the same, I never knew. I didn’t ask. A second later, and he’d already cloaked them, and turned away before I could read any deeper.
The entire encounter, I wanted so badly to ask who he was. My own shyness, coupled with the acute sense of danger he held about him, kept me from voicing my question. It wasn’t until he turned to leave, that I finally forced myself to speak--resulting in my embarrassment when the blonde pointed out the Chuunin Exams, something I’d already been aware of.
I wanted to jump for joy when Sasuke finally asked what his name was. Yes! I’d wanted to scream. Tell me who you are!
“Sabaku no Gaara.”
I didn’t hear any of the conversation after that, not really. Gaara, my mind breathed, his name is Gaara.
And for just the shortest of moments, Sasuke’s face was replaced with messy, blood red hair, pale skin, and two black rimmed, crystalline cyan eyes.
This didn’t last long, because with the arrival of the exams, I forced his image to the back of my mind. I focused on Sasuke instead, placing a cheery façade on for the world.
The encounter with Orochimaru in the Forest of Death shook me to my core. This is insanity, I thought. We’re just kids. How can we be expected to fight this when we’re barely old enough to understand and fight ourselves?
Not that I did any fighting, though. I was out of it before it really even began--standing off to the side and as my teammates risked their lives while I watched. And when the fight was over, I couldn’t even defend myself, let alone them.
I was truly, and utterly…weak.
And so the Preliminary Round came, and Gaara fought Lee, then the Finals, and Gaara fought Sasuke. I couldn’t help noticing how much my skills paled in comparison to his. In one fell swoop, I’d come to a single, shattering realization--I was the weakest person there.
It was pathetic.
When this fact finally sank into my head, I didn’t have time to feel disgusted with myself. We were already in the woods by then, Gaara half formed into the Shukaku, and I was standing in front of Sasuke at a poor attempt at protecting him.
All at once, I was angry.
I don’t know where the exact source of the anger came from, or if it was derived from many different sources. I think it was the latter, if the things my anger was directed at was any indication.
Because I was angry at myself; angry at my weakness; and angry at my mind--which forced my heart to fear Gaara as everyone else did, when in truth it wanted to go to him, comfort him, fill Sasuke’s place with his image.
I refused to let it.
But this anger, this burning fury, made my eyes lock with his in one glorious, breathless moment.
Not for one second did I let myself look away.
And then it was over, and I was pinned by his sand to a tree.
As I inhaled the scent of blood from that which bound me tighter than any chains, I couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t killed me yet before all faded to black.
“Thank you.”
That’s all he said before he left, leaving me to wake up on a concrete bench; where anything could have happened to me.
Sasuke.
The person I had devoted so much of my life to.
Just to have it thrown back in my face by his handsome, smirking, cold one.
And though we tried to find him, tried to bring him back, we couldn’t.
Blessed Naruto; he tried his best, just as he said he would. I’d sort of expected it, I suppose. You can’t force someone to stay where they don’t want to anymore than you can a wild fire--if you try, you’ll just get burned.
So when I realized that he wasn’t with them upon their return, it didn’t hurt as much. It was still enough, however, that, as the cyan crystals of someone I hadn’t seen since the day in the woods, and those of my friends watched on, I hid my face.
Just before running away to grieve in peace, I met Gaara’s gaze once more. There were differences this time, from the first time I’d seen them. They were warmer, less painful than before now that he was slowly, finally, gaining the acceptance he deserved.
My eyes in contrast were dimmer, as though a film had been passed over them. The full moon I’d once held so dearly, found so precious, had been cut to a third the size it’d previously been, as my own acceptance was ripped away.
Sometimes, when I reflect back this occurrence, I think he might have seen this.
Slowly.
That is how I can best describe the disappearance of the last vestiges of the moon Sasuke left me with.
It started out simply, with the removal of Naruto from my life. After the Uchiha left, I’d focused on him as my last anchor to normalcy. With him around, I could forget that my love had abandoned me as easily as he’d toss a kunai at a target. It was as simple as drowning myself in ramen and Naruto’s laughter.
But suddenly, he, too, was gone.
I don’t hate him for it. He’d earned it, after all, and he had a dream to achieve.
That didn’t make it hurt any less watching him leave.
I thrust myself into my work as Tsunade’s apprentice, using it to distract myself from my slowly deteriorating lifestyle. Besides, if he could work hard for his dream, then I would do so as well. It was the least I could do, for all the burden I’d put on him and Sasuke since we’d been made a team. I swore I would never again be the weak, pathetic little girl I’d been. For Naruto. For Sasuke, Tsunade, myself…
For crystalline cyan.
And for a while, everything was fine. The pain held at bay by my constant working out without pause. But this method could only last for so long before it shattered, too.
This happened in the form of my parents.
One day, they were waving to me as they exited the village gates, wishing me to be careful while they were gone visiting relatives in a smaller town on the border of Fire Country.
The next, Tsunade summoned me to her office, face worn, and eyes sad.
“Sakura…,” she whispered, honey browns closing as she took a deep breath, reaching under her desk for something. “On the way to your relatives, I’m afraid your parents ran into some bandits.” She pulled her hands out, revealing the item she’d been searching for. She opened her eyes, “Sakura, I’m so sorry.”
She needn’t have said anymore.
The music box my mother took with her everywhere, now in Tsunade’s hands and covered in blood, said enough.
It took five seconds for me dash from Tsunade’s office, tears painting my cheeks.
I didn’t know where I was running to until I’d already slammed open the door of Ino’s family flower shop.
Ino looked up from the magazine she was reading behind the counter, a sneer already on her lips. “What’s the rush forehea-”
The word froze in her mouth as her baby blue eyes widened, finally noting the exact state I was in.
“Sakura?” Her voice was a hesitant whisper, as she rounded the counter and approached my now shaking form.
I staggered forward two steps, the door swinging shut behind me, and collapsed into my rival’s arms as I sobbed. “I-Ino.”
“Shh,” she cooed, petting my hair delicately. “What’s wrong, Saku? What happened?”
For a few moments I was unable to speak, but finally, I stuttered out, “my, m-my…my p-p-parents…” A choking sob tore from my throat. “They, th-they’re…”
From that point I could no longer talk, unable to force anything from my lips other than the word ‘no’ over and over again.
Ino held me the entire time, not speaking, cooing soft noises as we sank to floor of her shop as she rocked me back and forth. She didn’t bother looking up when a customer came in, leaving it to her parents and ignoring the strange looks we were receiving.
That night, and for several nights after, I stayed at Ino’s house--rebuilding a friendship that was never really destroyed.
The next three years marked the darkest ones of my life thus far. The house had never seemed so quiet before. I spent as little time as I could there, hanging out with Ino and the rest of the group in my spare time when I wasn’t on missions.
Every night before going to sleep, however, I couldn’t resist opening mother’s music box and quietly singing the words to the lullaby it played before falling asleep.
My moon was shattered, only a small piece of the original remaining through my friends and training.
And it was at this point in my life that another saying comes to mind.
Only when you’ve reached the bottom, can you begin to make everything right again.
It began with Tsunade assigning me my first solo mission to Rain, for an assassination. I’m rather proud of how much I had improved in my skills by this point, having dedicated enough of myself to training that I was almost on par with Tsunade herself.
My mood that day was already better than usual. Naruto was coming home soon, and the mission had gone off with nary a hitch. I was now heading back to Konoha, three days earlier than expected. I chose a clearing near a small copse of trees--one of the few dry places I was likely to find as long as I was in Rain Country--for my campsite that night.
As I set up my tent and built a fire, a soft whimpering caught my attention from one of the nearby trees. Straightening, curiosity getting the better of me, I stealthily approached the tree, peeking hesitantly around the trunk with kunai in hand.
Those kunai immediately went back into their holster when I saw just what was behind the tree.
A little boy, little more than three years old, curled in the tree roots, hugging the small ragged blanket he had tight about his form. The child whimpered in his sleep, sounding almost like a sob as tears leaked from beneath closed eyelids.
Breath catching in my throat, I crouched next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to shake him to wakefulness.
The child jerked, crying out as he caught sight of me on opening his eyes. He tried to pull away, but I swiftly wrapped my arms around his struggling form, shushing him as calmly as I could. “Hush now, shhh, it’s alright. I won’t hurt you, it’s okay. Shhh.”
Finally, the boy stilled, looking up with fearful jade eyes and nibbling his lower lip. “You wone ert me?” he whispered, too young to properly form the consonant on the word ‘won’t’ and the ‘h’ in ‘hurt’.
I nodded. “I swear, little one. You’re safe with me.”
He looked suspicious for a moment, a strange look to see on a three year old child, before reluctantly relaxing in my grip. Carefully, I picked him up, and took him back to the campsite with me.
Sitting next to the fire, I placed him on my lap as I wet a towel with water from a pot I’d filled. “What’s your name?”
He frowned softly as I began to wipe the dirt from his face, revealing the scratches that he was lucky hadn’t been infected. “I don’ ave one.”
I frowned, considering that. “Where are your parents?”
His jade eyes became sad, and he looked away. “I don’ ave any.”
My hands stopped in their movement at this admission, and I stared at the top of the boy’s head. Who would leave a three year old to fend for themselves in the woods? And why in the hell hadn’t his parents had the decency to have given the child a name?
My eyes caught one of the few clean bunches of hair on his head, and quickly found my answer.
His hair was stark white.
I know that to most this seems insignificant, but in this situation it explained everything. All lands and cultures have their own legends and superstitions, ranging from ludicrousness to actual believability. And just as those in the Land of Fire believed it was bad luck for a black cat to cross your path, the people in the Land of Rain found the white hair of albinos to be even more so.
It all came to me with bitter clarity, as the child’s exact situation made itself known.
He’d been abandoned for being born with white hair.
I sighed, as understanding flooded my being. Naturally, he wouldn’t have wanted to stay in one of the villages. If any of the townsfolk so much as spotted him, he’d have been beaten or mercilessly taunted on sight. It was only common sense that he’d choose to hide in the forests--where he was at least safe from his own people.
I ran a gentle hand through his hair, and he turned up his head, sadness lingering in his eyes. I couldn’t have stopped the next sentence from tumbling from my lips anymore than I could keep the sun from setting.
“Would you like to live with me?”
I was momentarily shocked at myself, but that was quickly overshadowed by the boy’s own startled gasp. “L-live wid you?’
Blinking once, I nodded. His wide, shining jade gleamed with happiness, and it appeared he was about to cry again. He shook his head up and down fiercely, and I suddenly found myself tackled to the ground with his arms wrapped around my neck.
As he buried his face in my hair, I barely heard the small, hesitant question he whispered. “Wiwll-wiwll you be…my mommy?”
My breathing hitched, and some type of foreign emotion swept through my chest. It felt incredibly warm.
Biting my lip, I hugged the boy against me, and knew for sure that I’d never been more certain about anything in my life as I whispered back, “yes.”
And I meant it.
“Come on Yuki, it’s okay. No one will hurt you here--I won’t let them.”
The small boy, who’s pristine white hair glowed in the afternoon sun, bit his tiny lip. I’d gotten him to take a bath with me on the way back to Konoha, which showed just how beautiful the little one really was. His jade eyes were rimmed in a smoke black--years of not sleeping out of fear of what could get him if he did so taking it’s toll. In all honesty, I thought he looked like a little Gaara, with white hair instead of red.
Thus came the name I’d chosen for him. Yuki, meaning snow. It fit his white hair perfectly. When I told him this, he smiled at me with such happiness, I though for sure that I would cry.
Now he stood, hiding behind one of the trees just outside the gates of Konoha. The guards posted at the gate--Neji and Tenten--watched curiously, wondering what it was I was doing.
“Yuki,” I sank onto one knee, arms open in his direction, “come on. Come to Mommy, baby.”
His white head peeked cautiously around the trunk, before he darted out and shot into my arms as fast as his tiny three year old body would allow.
I picked him up gently, and he buried his face in my hair and gripped my neck with his small arms. I stroked his back as I walked to the gates, Neji and Tenten now showing open displays of confused curiosity.
“Who’s the kid, Sakura?” Tenten asked as I approached.
I smiled at her softly. “My son, Tenten.”
Her eyes widened imperceptibly as I walked past, and she shot a quick look at Neji, who shrugged. I shook my head lightly. “You’ll get the story later, Ten. It’ll be all over Konoha by noon, I guarantee.”
From there I went to the Hokage Tower, opening the door to Tsunade’s office leisurely. “Tsunade? I’m back.”
She looked up from her paperwork, sake bottle in hand, lazily sitting back to observe me drunkenly. When her eyes landed on Yuki, however, she seemed to sober up immediately in favor of leaning forward and looking closer. “Sakura…?”
“Tsunade, this is Yuki.” I rubbed my nose against the top of his head. “My son.”
Blinking rapidly, Tsunade sat back again as she zoned in on the small boy in my arms. “Explain, Sakura. Now.”
I smiled at my mother figure, as that’s precisely what Tsunade was to me, a mother, as she saw me as her daughter, and sat down in front of her desk in one of the chairs. Quietly, so as not to wake Yuki, who had fallen asleep in my arms, I told Tsunade the story of how I’d come to find my precious little boy.
She listened quietly, eyes wandering between Yuki and I, a small smile beginning to form on her lips. When I finished, Tsunade’s expression was positively manic.
“You know what this means?” she said.
I cocked my head. “What?”
“It means I have a GRANDCHILD! WOO!” She hopped up from the desk, hands thrown in the air. “Shizune! Bust out the tequila, we’re celebrating!”
I laughed at her exuberance, and Yuki stirred awake in my arms. Lifting himself up, he rubbed his eyes with a little fist, yawning slightly. “Mommy…?”
Tsunade might as well have jumped over her desk with how quickly she scrambled around it, placing herself about a foot away from the child. “Hello, Yuki,” she smiled. “I’m Tsunade, your Grandma.”
Yuki bit his lip cutely. “Gandma?”
Tsunade’s eyes shone. “That’s right. Gandma.”
Yuki smiled. “Gandma.”
To say Naruto was pleasantly surprised upon discovering Yuki when he got back would be a harsh understatement. The man was ecstatic.
“I have a nephew,” he’d mumbled. Then louder. “I have a nephew.”
He’d continued to repeat this sentence, over and over, until it got so loud people started giving him stranger looks than usual. He’d then proceeded to scoop Yuki up and spin him around, much to the little boy’s surprise.
It was then at Naruto’s insistence that we took Yuki with us on a mission to Suna a few weeks later. Kakashi had immediately adopted him as a grandson, and Sai took a shine to him as well.
The mission was supposed to be simple, just taking a few documents to Suna. But then we received word that Suna’s Kazekage had been kidnapped, and Kankuro poisoned.
Gaara, my mind breathed. Gaara’s in trouble!
Sai, Kakashi, and Naruto turned immediately to start helping in the search for Gaara, while Yuki and I continued on to Suna.
I went to Kankuro immediately on arrival, leaving Temari to watch over Yuki.
“Keep in mind, however,” I’d murmured to her before heading to Kankuro’s aid, “that if he is harmed while in your care, allies or not, I will kill you. Don’t think I couldn’t.”
I was gone before she could answer.
It took a little less than a day to heal Kankuro of the poison, and I set out almost immediately afterward to help Naruto in his search. Yuki was left to the care of Temari, who seemed to have fallen in absolute love with the poor child. She already had him calling her ‘Auntie Temari’.
With me was Chiyo, a Sunaen elder. The same Sunaen elder that sealed Shukaku within a baby Gaara. I liked the old woman, and learned many useful things from the medic.
Our battle with Sasori was long, and more drawn out than I would have liked. Gaara needed us, but this Akatsuki was keeping us from getting to where we had to be. While I admit that I felt sorry for the man, now puppet, that didn’t keep me from being happy when the battle had ended.
The first sight of Gaara nearly made me reel back in shock. He’d gotten taller in the years I hadn’t seen him. His frame was stronger, his face more masculine. He seemed devastatingly handsome. But there was no denying the fact that he was gone. His closed eyes testified to that.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Naruto cry so hard. I cannot deny having shed tears in that moment myself. For years, his eyes had been haunting me. The thought that those eyes would never open, that I’d never get to see them heal as I knew they could…
It tore me apart.
Because where my mind still held out for Sasuke, my heart had cleared itself for another.
For him.
But now, that could never be. And my heart wept.
For the love it had always secretly wanted, but was destroyed before it had a chance to even start.
To say that what Chiyo did was a miracle is inaccurate. It was a miracle, a blessing, and an answer to our prayers all in one. I don’t think any of us will ever be able to thank her enough for what she did.
I leaned over Gaara, tears falling down my cheeks at a rate beyond comprehension as his lids opened to reveal the twin crystals I remembered. The first thing those cyan orbs met were my watery emerald, and I felt a sob tear it’s way up my throat.
His eyes were even more beautiful than I remembered.
Yuki and I opted to stay in Suna for a little while afterward, a sort of mini-vacation for behaving himself in my absence. It also gave me the chance to observe and monitor Gaara’s condition, and I jumped at the opportunity.
“How are you today, Kazekage-sama?” I asked as I entered his office late one night, a stack of paperwork Temari had asked me to deliver in hand.
“Quite fine, Sakura-san,” he answered in that soft voice of his.
I smiled. “That’s wonderful.”
I was about to leave but his voice stopped me. “That boy…,” he started, “Yuki. Temari says he’s your son.”
I turned back and smiled at him. “Yes, he is.”
He cocked his head slightly. “Who is the father? You are unmarried, yes?”
I chuckled slightly, and took a seat in an open chair in front of his desk. “I’m not Yuki’s biological mother.” Gaara blinked once, but it was clearly an invitation to explain. “I found Yuki after an assassination mission in Rain. I was on my way back when I discovered him.” My eyes glazed over in memory. “He’d been abandoned.”
“Why?” Gaara’s voice was as soft as ever, but the undercurrent of anger was undeniable as well.
“In Rain, children with white hair are considered extremely bad luck.”
His eyes clouded with fury. “So they just abandoned him?” His tone had taken on a harsher note. “Just like that?”
I smiled sadly. “You know better than anyone else how people with superstitions can be.”
For a minute, neither of us spoke, and then a knocking at the door made us both turn as it opened.
“Mommy?” the quiet voice belonged to Yuki, and he was clutching a music box close to his small chest, eyes wide with fear.
While in Suna, Yuki and I had taken up a guest room in the Kazekage Tower, and I’d left him asleep in our bed before coming here. I glanced out one of the windows, noting the dry lightning storm going on outside.
“Come here, baby,” I said, opening my arms and scooping him into my lap when he toddled over. I placed the music box on Gaara’s desk, and smiled sheepishly at him. “Yuki’s afraid of lightning,” I explained. “Ah, back in Konoha I’d sing him to sleep during thunderstorms…so…”
Gaara grunted once. “Go ahead.”
I smiled gratefully at him, opening the music box and letting the soothing piano score play. Softly, I began to sing the words to the lullaby that went to the music--the same lullaby my mother sang to me when I was little.
“Little child, be not afraid The rain pounds harsh against the glass Like an unwanted stranger There is no danger I am here tonight Little child Be not afraid Though thunder explodes And lightning flash
Illuminates your tearstained face I am here tonight.”A particularly loud boom came from outside the window, and Yuki jumped, tears starting to stream from his eyes. I reached forward and brushed them away gently with my thumb.“And someday you'll know That nature is so This same rain that draws you near me Falls on rivers and land And forests and sand Makes the beautiful world that you see In the morning.”
Carefully, I placed a hand on the back of Yuki’s head, stroking his hair as I rocked him in my lap. By now I had completely forgotten that we had an audience of one, and was solely focused on Yuki.
“Little child Be not afraid The storm clouds mask your beloved moon And its candlelight beams Still keep pleasant dreams I am here tonight Little child Be not afraid The wind makes creatures of our trees And the branches to hands They're not real, understand And I am here tonight And someday you'll know That nature is so This same rain that draws you near me Falls on rivers and land And forests and sand Makes the beautiful world that you see In the morning.”
Yuki began to sag against me, his head coming to rest on my shoulder.
“For you know, once even I Was a little child And I was afraid But a gentle someone always came To dry all my tears Trade sweet sleep for fears And to give a kiss goodnight Well, now I am grown And these days have shown Rain's a part of how life goes But it's dark and it's late So I'll hold you and wait 'til your frightened eyes do close.”
I brushed the hair from Yuki’s face as his breathing evened out, not bothering to stop singing though he’d already fallen asleep.
“And I hope that you'll know That nature is so This same rain that draws you near me Falls on rivers and land And forests and sand Makes the beautiful world that you see In the morning Everything's fine in the morning The rain will be gone in the morning.”
I placed a feathery kiss to the child’s forehead, my voice dropping to a whisper as I finished the lullaby.
“But I'll still be here in the morning.”Sighing quietly, I closed the lid of the music box, gaze soft as I stroked Yuki’s cheek with the pad of my thumb. Something warm burst in my chest, just as it had the first time Yuki had called me his mother.
“Love you, little one,” I murmured.
“Beautiful.”
My head jerked up, finding the wonder filled eyes of Suna’s Kazekage on myself and my child.
“Wha-?” my brows furrowed, a half-hearted chuckle lodged in my throat.
“Beautiful,” he repeated, voice coated with just as much wonder as his eyes.
“Ah, um,” I bit my lip, “thank you?”
I blinked, and suddenly Gaara was back to his stoic self, and if not for his eyes, I might have guessed the entire thing had been an illusion.
“The music box,” he mused, running his fingers over the aged wood, “is bloodstained.”
I smiled sadly. “It was my mothers.”
“Was…?”
“She died.” I lowered my head, absently rocking Yuki in his sleep. “They both did.”
I smelled the faint scent of blood before I felt the sand gently pushing my chin up to meet Gaara’s eyes. “What happened?”
“Bandits.” I shrugged like it was nothing. “Happens to a lot of people. No big deal.”
But it was a big deal. One look at my forced smile showed that all too clearly. My own home didn’t feel safe anymore. It felt…empty.
I took a deep breath, and stood with Yuki in my arms. “Well, goodnight, Kazekage-sama.”
Just before I closed the door, he spoke once more.
“Gaara,” he said, “call me Gaara.”
I smiled happily, and closed the door.
“Goodnight, Gaara.”
The next day, Gaara asked that I stay another week in Suna with Yuki.
After that week, he asked that we stay another month.
After that month, he asked us to stay another year.
After that year, he asked that we live, permanently, in Suna with him and his siblings in the Kazekage’s mansion.
We agreed.
“You know, Gaara,” I chuckled, “if your fangirls saw you right now, they’d probably be swooning.”
Gaara looked up, scowling, from his place pinned shirtless to the floor by his own sand. “Not funny.”
Yuki giggled, a look of concentration on his face as he focused on the sand. Gaara had been showing him how to manipulate the element for the past few months, and Yuki had been learning pretty quick for a four year old.
At that point, Gaara must have decided that they’d had enough practice for one day, and broke Yuki’s hold over the sand. “We’ll do some more tomorrow,” he promised, standing and dusting himself off.
Yuki shrugged, bouncing over to my side and grabbing my leg. “Mommy, Uncle Kankourlo says you’re my tu-…my tu-,” he huffed, frustrated, “my tutelary.”
I gave a short laugh. “Well, I suppose I am.”
He frowned. “What is a tu-tutelary, dough?”
“Well,” I crouched to look him in the eye, “a tutelary is a guardian, or a protector.”
“Oh.” Yuki blinked, “so it’s a mommy?”
I smiled tenderly. “Yeah, it’s a mommy.”
“Yuki!” Temari came into the living room, Kankuro following behind. “Come play with Auntie Temari!”
Yuki laughed brightly, running to the blond and letting her pet and coo over him.
“Jeez, Temari,” Kankuro drawled, “don’t cosset the kid.”
“Be quiet, Uncle Kankourlo, before I make you,” she answered back sweetly.
Kankuro gulped. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna go now.”
He left the room, Temari following after with her hand firmly clasped in Yuki’s.
I couldn’t keep myself from laughing as they left, eyes closed in happiness.
“Yuki forgot his gourd,” Gaara monotoned, picking up the specially made mini-version of his own gourd.
I smirked, moving to stand beside him and touching the object. “You know, if you keep making stuff like that for him, Suna’s going to start viewing you as his father.”
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Is that a bad thing?”
For a second, I could have sworn my heart stopped beating. “That depends.”
“On?” He’d turned to face me now, the gourd placed on the ground at our feet.
“Well,” I licked my lips, meeting his eyes, “Suna already knows me as his mother, so…”
“So?” We were now barely two inches apart, and I could feel his breath on my face. My cheeks flushed red.
“S-so if they saw you as his father, they’d assume that-that we were…”
I didn’t get to say anymore, because the next thing I knew, Gaara’s lips were on mine--and I thought for sure that my chest would burst.
I closed my eyes, the smell of sand and wind surrounding my senses. His lips were warm and soft, and I found myself not wanting the moment to end.
“Mommy?”
We pulled apart, both turning to Yuki in the doorway. Slowly, I removed my hands from Gaara’s chest, as he pulled his arms back from where they’d wound themselves around me. Funny thing was, I couldn’t remember either of us putting them there.
“Yes?” I asked, a bit breathily, much to my embarrassment. I noticed Gaara smirking with smug male pride from the corner of my eye. “I thought you were going to play with Temari and Kankuro?”
“I am, but I forgot my gourd.” He paused. “Does dis mean Gaara’s my Daddy now?”
The question made me pause. “U-uh…” I looked to Gaara, asking silently for him to answer the question--I didn’t even know the answer to that one.
Gaara gazed back, the smallest of smiles tipping his lips. “Yes.”
The smile on Yuki’s face could be described as nothing short of dazzling. “And Daddy loves Mommy?”
Gaara’s hand took mine with natural ease.
“Yes.”
A soft breeze blew through the balcony, blowing the curtains just enough to cast small shadows on the floor.
I stood on the balcony, searching the night sky with bright eyes. Glancing through the doors back into the room, my gaze caught the two sleeping figures of the two men in my life.
My heart expanded in my chest, and for once my mind thought along the same lines as it. Turning to the sky once more, I cupped my hands in front of me, just high enough that if you looked right, it seemed as though the moon was cradled in my palms.
I didn’t need Sasuke anymore for my moon to be complete. I’d managed to create my own.
A pair of warm arms wrapped around my shoulders, and I sank back into his chest. “Come to bed,” he whispered softly in my ear.
“Okay,” I murmured back.
And as I crawled into bed, Yuki tucked between Gaara and I, I felt perfect for the first time in years.
So this is what it feels like, I thought, as my legs tangled with theirs beneath the sheets, to hold the moon.
I smiled lazily as I drifted into sleep.
It was nice.