Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Unraveling of a Dune ❯ Chapter 7

 

 

 

Unraveling of a Dune

PART VII: EPILOGUE

By: emeraldoni

Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto.

 

Gaara scowled as he walked down the bustling street, bags full of oddities in both hands. Plastic rustled, combining with the rhythm of the whoosh clothes as he made his way back to his and Sakura's little home as quick as he could. He tried to ignore the knowing smiles and barely veiled grins as he passed the villagers, for it became an almost regular occurrence to see the KazeKage rushing down the street, groceries in hand. It was no secret that his wife was, well, a little bit demanding in her pregnancy.

 

Shinobi and the working peoples alike enjoyed seeing their leader brought down by a mere woman, his wife, and it rankled at Gaara. Not as though he would do anything about it though, not when she acted like this.

 

When he first found out Gaara was… pleasantly surprised. He wasn't upset at all, not with the way she told him, or the fact that he hadn't been the first to know. No, he was not frustrated at that at all. Of course, them having a baby was definitely something unexpected, and the little post-it note stuck on their apartment door had hit him harder than a Rock Lee kick to the face.

 

Gaara

 

I'm pregnant!

 

It said, a little heart and smiley face adorning the sky-blue slip of paper. At first he thought it was some kind of weird joke, that maybe Sakura had gone temporarily insane. He wouldn't put it past her.

 

But no, that was not it. His doubts were wisped away as he stepped into the apartment, only to see a pink head peeking from behind the kitchen doorway. A slight blush adorned her cheeks as she stared at him with a nervous smile.

 

Her laugh was slightly jittery, “Hello, Gaara! Did you get my message?” Her voice was an octave too high.

 

And for the first time in—well, he didn't remember when, Gaara was shocked speechless.

 

“It's…true?”

 

Sakura nodded shyly, her creepy laugh echoing around the living room. In the end, though it came unexpected, Gaara had been the exact opposite of unhappy, and more than a little amazed. A little him running around, a little Gaara…

 

Maybe it would be better if the kid was more like Sakura.

 

And then time passed, and Gaara decided maybe they shouldn't have a child, because it would certainly be a monster. This was proven by his wife's attitude the past few months. He just wanted to get this over with, and maybe—if he was lucky—the kid would be moved out before he knew it.

 

Of course, Gaara was not one to be ensconced with good luck. Instead, he spent his days in torture, reverting back to sleepless nights—filled with the work of a KazeKage—while his days were spent kissing the very ground Sakura walked on. Never had he felt so… degraded.

 

Ten years ago no one would have seen Gaara bowing to a woman, getting groceries, and being a weakling in general. But then again, he thought, Orochimaru would never stand a chance against his kunoichi, and the Akatsuki? Forget it, they were no match. Really, Konoha and Suna should just gather up all the pregnant women and send them after S-class criminals. The evil shinobi wouldn't stand a chance, and the army of Hippo-like woman would be feared and revered everywhere.

 

Gaara was too afrai—smart, though, to actually try to make a pregnant woman work, like Sakura, because they would probably come after him, his dear Kunoichi leading them in a dastardly attack pf puffed breaths, swollen ankles, and many, many, bathroom breaks.

 

Gaara frowned as a giggle resounded behind him, but his glare could not find the offender. Reaching the apartment, the rusty haired shinobi squared his shoulders before entering.

 

“Ah! Gaara!” Sakura laughed as she rolled over to him (at least, she was so big he didn't know how she walked) and gave him a hug—which didn't at all work with her bulging belly in the way.

 

“You took forever! I was worried!”

 

What was going on? Hadn't she just practically thrown him out of their shared home? She had been throwing stuff at him—or trying, at least. Her voice had certainly worked, as she had screamed him all the way to the street. He should be used to this though, for this was how she had been acting for quite some time, like a hormonal teenager, except worse.

 

No matter though, at least she was happy now.

 

Gaara reached down to kiss his wife on the cheek, while setting down the bags. Before he could reach though, Sakura's face froze, blood draining to leave it whiter than snow.

 

Both of them looked down at the floor, a puddle of water spreading across the floor.

 

“Oh.” Sakura said, “Fuck.”

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

Naruto paced back and forth, eyes trained on a certain door as his face tensed in worry, as well as curiosity.

 

“What the hell's taking them so long!?”

 

Sasuke sighed, exasperated at his… friend, and rival, “It takes more than a bowl of ramen to give birth, dobe.”

 

“Shut up! This is retarded! We should be in there with her!”

 

Sasuke gave the blond the `are you crazy?' look, his shoulders tensing from his lackadaisical pose in the uncomfortable plastic chair in a hideous green shade.

 

“Naruto, would you seriously want to be with Sakura while she gave birth? Do you even remember how she acted while pregnant?”

 

Naruto was defensive, “So what…” but he did not complain again. In fact, he went to the other side of the room to pace when a loud scream and crash resounded from the door his very concentration was directed on. Sasuke smirked when he caught sight of Naruto's darting eyes and spastic fidgeting.

 

Even giving birth—especially giving birth—Sakura was a very imposing figure.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

“GGGGGGAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAA!”

 

Gaara winced as the scream practically blew out his ear drums.

 

He did not like this, not one bit. After her first contraction he had almost decapitated the nurse, and even now—after the explanation (lecture)—he still felt riled up, and more than a little nervous. He did not like to hear her scream, and he certainly did not like to think that she was feeling even a sliver of pain.

 

She certainly was though, if her screams and the destruction about her was and indication.

 

“GAARA!” He blanched as he turned back to her, sending the hardest glare he could ever muster in the hospital workers direction. They returned it though, probably still upset about the barrier of sand he had created around her earlier, in a fit of panic.

 

No more babies. Definitely no more babies, and no more pregnant women. He didn't even see how humanity was still alive, if it took this much trouble to bring them into life. He reached out to her, and she gripped his hand in a (literally) bone-crushing grip.

 

He was worried, as well.

 

Was it supposed to take this long? They had been in there for—was it a few hours now?-and it seemed as though Sakura kept getting more frantic with pain. What if… what if…

 

What if she ended up like his mother? Dead.

 

No, he wouldn't think on that. That was impossible, and he knew something like that would be un-survivable for him. This had better be one damn good baby, to be putting her though this, him through this. And he though dying was bad! It was nothing compared to this torture. Why didn't they just slip heated needed needles under his nails, it might make this easier.

 

Another scream ripped though the air, and Gaara tensed, willing his sand to stay calm. Currently it only whirled around the room in a soft, circular breeze. With every wave of pain coursing through Sakura the sand would become erratic. The doctors didn't really care for this.

 

Not that Gaara gave a fuck, as long as they fixed Sakura, and quick.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

“Kami. He's—he's…”

 

“Ugly.”

 

Sakura gasped, sending a shocked glare in her husband's direction, “No he's not! He's just—”

 

She glanced down at the baby in her arms, a small smile flitting upon her tired features, yet seeming utterly beautiful to his worried eyes.

 

“He's just… eccentric looking.” She sent a harsh glare at him, “You'll see, he'll be very cute when he gets a bit older.”

 

Gaara refrained from rolling his eyes as he stared at the little red-skinned, wrinkly bundle. It slept soundly in his mother's arms, resting after being fed, his shadowed eyes closed with soft breaths.

 

“The boy,” Gaara muttered, “Is definitely going to be made fun of in class.”

 

“He will not!” Sakura shot back, “He's out beautiful baby boy! Leave the poor thing alone.”

 

`Thing' indeed, “Hn.” A few moments Gaara made another comment, “What kind of enemy can take a shinobi with pink hair seriously?”

 

Mistake. Big mistake.

 

“What. Did. You. Just. Say?”

 

Gaara slid his chair back slightly, eyes wide as he realized what he had just said aloud. He wondered whether the terrifying experience he had just gone through affected his brain, because he would normally never say anything like that. And so, in a very un-Gaara like fashion, he retreated.

 

“Nothing.”

 

Another hard look came from his kunoichi, but she let it go, “That's what I thought.”

 

He hadn't meant it in the first place, anyway. For all his sarcastic comments, Gaara was really in awe. To think, this…thing, this life, had come from Sakura, from him. And even if it was a little weird looking (with its pink hair, shadowed eyes, and red, wrinkly skin) he found that he would do anything to keep it alive, to make it happy.

 

It was so odd, this feeling. Not in a million years, adding every grain of sand in the desert, had Gaara ever thought he would have a family. Him, of all people, was loved and cherished, and he loved and cherished in return.

 

It just went to show, anyone would be fixed. Because that was what he had needed. He was broken, and he had been fixed, mended in a way that made him see the sun instead of the night, made him see life instead of death.

 

And then, Gaara smiled, fingers brushing lightly over his child's curled hands, his wife's warm cheek. Sakura smiled back, “See, it's not so bad, is it?”

 

Well, maybe not.

 

At the instant the baby awoke, a great monstrous cry tearing out of his dainty throat. Sakura reached to hand him to Gaara, but before the KazeKage could grab his son, something happened. One of the little dainty curled fists reached out, pounding into the bedside table, leaving a small crater. Shocked silence, neither of them wanted to comment on neither the abnormal chakre control, nor the sand floating around the baby boy, which certainly wasn't being controlled by Gaara.

 

He caught sight of the horror in Sakura's eyes, and he pondered what kind of hellion they produced. The kid might be able to beat Naruto's infamous reputation.

 

“It's not so bad, is it?”

 

Okay, so maybe that was debatable, but Gaara couldn't help but feel anticipation for the future, no matter what it brought.

 

Oooo000OOO000oooO

 

A/N: There we go, the end: completely. So, did you like? It was the epilogue, and you got to witness a pregnant Sakura, Gaara's reaction to her, and what their baby was like. So, have you had enough? Of course you have. Heh.

 

Anyways, got to go, I'm late to my Karate Academy meeting. This was a totally spur of the moment thing. Short and sweet and written really quickly (if you couldn't tell).

 

Until the next story (for real, this time… I think)

 

emeraldoni