Chapter 67
The Beast Within
Waking from a stir, Nomasaki budged within the bed in refusal to rise at a reasonable hour.
Just a few more minutes, she plead internally – daylight trying to make its way into her shut eyes as she tossed within the sheets in hiding. Beside her, the bed was empty. Only scarce grains of sand dotted where Gaara lay the night before, his side of the bed tidied slightly, pillow and all. Although she had the day off, she did not take kindly to waking earlier than necessary. She relished in a good night's sleep and her sleep schedule had never been one to stay regulated. Thanks to cutting back on assignments, she was able to enjoy more rest – unless Gaara's insomnia needed company. Lately, however, she had become increasingly restless since the messenger showed up at their residence only nights ago. She felt an emotional change come over her, sweeping her into a whirlwind of anxiety and dread. Sleeping it off was her main concern.
Pulling herself up with a stretch, her fanged yawn tinged a muscle in her abdomen. Clutching her stomach, she winced in silence as she heaved upon the bed in a sudden wave of pain. Peculiar. Bringing herself to check, she slowly moved the sheets from her lap. Dismayed, she saw the clear bright red signal of her monthly visitor sprawled under her.
It came late – but nonetheless still showed up.
Of all times to make an appearance, the gods of the desert were playing with her. Although thankful she would not bear the council any heirs for Gaara in the near future, she was disgruntled by its surprise arrival. Growling under her breath, she promptly hopped off the mattress, straightening her silken robe as she dressed and pulled the inner dressings of the bed off into the laundry basket.
Hopefully Gaara won't see the bedsheets... or else he would be horrified, she thought to herself.
Having only scarcely interacted with women his entire life, the notion of any bodily function still made him uncomfortable and awkwardly silent. For the first time, she was glad that doing the laundry was her task.
Sitting across from him at the table, she averted her eyes to her lap that morning.
Feeling the discomfort of her abdomen soured her day. Although it was an easy clean-up, she thought of her visit with Meiyumi last week. She would never admit it, but there was a burgeoning thought that would not leave her be. She found herself entertaining the thought of one day having his children. Never having thought about it in her adult years – or ever in her life, for that matter. For a moment of brisk confusion, she wondered if she were wolf enough to be going through heat.
No, she corrected in her mind, I'm not a dog. A mutt maybe, but a dog - never.
Regardless, after their eventual marriage, the prospect of children would be highly welcomed with either relief or disdain from the elder councilmen. They would be of two bloodlines, she reminded herself – if it were to ever occur.
An intriguing yet fearful thought.
She wondered if Gaara would be able to provide her with an answer that could help her decide for herself. Knowing it was a sensitive topic, she refrained from ever asking about his father. There was no telling what his reaction would be if she made the plunge to tell him. Quietly as he sat dressed and prepared for another day's work as the Fifth Kazekage, Gaara watched her with a curious expression while he tried to decipher what was going on in her mind.
No avail.
To him, she appeared saddened and worried, her usual pleasant expression mired in unfamiliar despair. It had to be Tenbu or Kenzō, he thought. Or was it something else entirely? "Nomasaki," He started, his eyes concerned. "You haven't said anything since waking this morning. Is there something troubling you?"
Catching her attention, she glanced at him briefly in her surprise as her train of thought became derailed. He seemed worried. This was her chance. Mulling over her words, she returned her glance down towards her robe-covered lap, hoping that focusing on the stitching of its blue fabric would distract her from her discomfort. "Did you... ever...?" She began, her voice low. "Never mind, it's nothing."
"What is it?"
Her heart fluttered in her chest from his pressing. Gathering her courage, she looked up to him. Meeting his curious glance for but a moment, she quickly glanced away as she felt a wave of warmth flush her cheeks. Even in simple moments, he had a way of making her vulnerable. Unknowingly, a timid smile formed on her lips.
"It's just something that was on my mind recently..." Glancing back to him, she met the gleam of his seafoam eyes across from her. "Did you ever... want to... have a family, someday?"
He froze.
Realizing his stunned expression and widened eyes, she felt a chill cross through her. She knew he would not take the question lightly – her mistake. Then she realized she was not exactly clear, jolting herself from her embarrassment as her face reddened in panic. "N-Not anytime soon!" She said. "I-I was just curious, is all. I... never thought to ask."
"I've... never gave it much thought." Gaara answered, searching for words.
Turning towards the window at his side, his ringed-eyes held a saddened tint as they calmed from his initial reaction. The question she asked was certainly unexpected – as was the prospect of someday having children. Because of death's looming shadow, shinobi were known to have married young to preserve the existence of their bloodlines. One of the many reasons why he rejected the arranged marriage put forth by the council was not just so that he could be with the woman he loved, but to avoid the council's insistence of producing an heir to the near-extinct bloodline of the Kazekage clan – Rasa's bloodline of the Magnet Release Kekkei Genkai.
But things were different now.
If he were to have children, they would not only be his – they would be hers. Briefly, he imagined a rosy-cheeked infant swaddled in a blanket, his red hair and her gentle violet eyes. The thought was also enticing to him the more he entertained it. But then he remembered that he was not the best with children.
In fact, he was scared of children.
They were fragile, unpredictable, and they were dangerously curious. He was definitely not ready to be a father. His incessant caution and protection during their numerous 'nights' together proved that fact. His biggest fear was having history repeat itself. Although he took pride in being nothing like his late father in regard to harnessing the unbridled power of Shukaku, Gaara worried that he would not be able to care for a child in the way that was to be expected. If he were to have a child with her someday, he would promise to himself to raise it with the unconditional kindness and love like that of Yashamaru, his late uncle.
But he still had his doubts.
Turning away from the window, he averted her timid glance by focusing on the tabletop, his slightly saddened turquoise eyes closed halfway in his thoughts on the subject. Having children was something he was not sure he wanted or not, but he also did not want to disappoint her. "I haven't exactly had the best upbringing, so I... can't say if I'd be cut out for it." He spoke, quietly. "Perhaps... someday." Meeting her violet eyes, he felt a tinge of nervousness creep into his throat as he uttered the words. "Were... you thinking about it?"
"Only this morning," She smiled lightly, dissipating the awkwardness of their conversation. "The thought surprised me, too."
Suddenly, she felt her lower abdomen writhe and pulse as she sat. Unfortunately, her pain-med had failed to kick in early. Grasping her stomach with her palm, she tried her best to feign the pain that radiated through her. The first day was always the worst, she remembered – and the least predictable. She could sense her canines growing in her closed jaws as the pain grew fierce and unbearable. If she could barely handle this pain, she was bewildered at the prospect of living through childbirth.
Perhaps she was not designed for it, after all.
"You look pained," He said, concerned. "Are you alright?"
"It... happened." She winced, an embarrassed smile on her lips. "That... time."
He was not following.
"My visitor... the period."
"What happened–? O-Oh," He coughed to himself, standing up from his seat. "I should be going to the office, I'm running behind."
Surprising her, Nomasaki turned towards the porch. Her eyes widened from the feel of the chakra, she felt her heart race briefly in her chest. Warming her, the presence caused her to reveal an anticipated smile. Although not accustomed to visitors so early in the morning, this was a visitor she was glad to have seen coming.
An old friend.
"What is it?"
Looking to his curious expression, she gave a light smile. Before she had a chance to give an answer, their door was swung open abruptly – drawing in their attention from the noise. Panting slightly from her flight up the stairs and into the long corridor, Temari entered their home with a serious glint to her green eyes. In the sunlight from the large window of their kitchen, the silver emblem of her shinobi headband gleamed on her satchel. Konohagakure marked her allegiance now.
"Gaara," She said, her breaths easing as she stood straight. "I'm glad I could find you. I–,"
Catching her eye, she was confused to see her friend in their old home with him at such an early hour. Clothed in a thin simple blue robe that reached her knees, Nomasaki stood from the table with a smile as she shared eye contact with her previous jonin-partner and friend. Although she knew of their relationship, she was surprised to see it progress as fast as it did. It was unlike Gaara – then again, the fact that he was in a relationship was surprising enough.
"Nomasaki?" She raised a brow. "What are you doing here?"
"It's been a while, Temari," Nomasaki smiled with a bow of her head. "How have you been? Are you enjoying Konoha?"
Then, something clicked.
Stunned, Temari whipped her head towards her youngest brother, meeting his calm and unfazed expression while hers was still processing the scene that early morning. "Y-You're living together...?" Nodding once, a faint line of a smile was evident on his lips. "I take it I've come at the wrong time–,"
"No," Gaara shook his head, approaching her. "You must be tired. Please, join us."
A slight frown appeared on Temari's expression, dissipating any relief to see her sibling after such a long time. Living in Konoha was quite the adjustment, but so was becoming a kunoichi of the Land of Fire. Dealing with constant baggage from the fallout of the last war, her assignments were piling up with no clear end in sight. To make matters worse, there was the matter of the assassin who crossed their path months earlier – the one with the strange weapon that rendered her friend powerless.
"I don't have much time, actually." She sighed. "I'm on my first official mission for Konoha."
Gaara's pleasant demeanor changed into a guarded curiosity. He could tell by the mere gleam of her eyes that her arrival was not for a friendly visit. "Is that so? You seem serious."
Closing the door carefully behind her, she twisted the lock shut and stepped inside. Narrowing her eyes sternly, she paused before him, passing him a scroll from her satchel at her side. Taking the scroll, he read its contents with careful eyes, not wanting to miss a single detail. The wording was secretive – yet he understood the implications of the language they used.
It was both dire and ground-breaking.
"So that's it," He said, eyeing her as he passed the scroll back. "They found them out."
Temari nodded. "I have to present the council with this information, but I wanted to run it by you first."
Placing the scroll into her pack, she began searching for something else. "I know the village is in good hands, but I ultimately trust you over our elders. Also," From her satchel, she pulled out the loose and broken fragments of what remained of the ginkō ore. Its substance was as shiny as it was ominous, glowing subtly despite the obvious damage that it was dealt.
It was truly resilient.
Surprising him, he recognized the material from when he was in Konoha. "Is that–?"
"Shizune-sama and Sakura finished sequencing the ginkō ore sample from our scuffle during the Chunin Exams." She nodded. "They've determined exactly what the ginkō is, and apparently... it can deal some damage."
"What do you mean?" Gaara pressed. "What kind of damage?"
Her eyes locked upon him in dire seriousness. "...An explosion. It has the power to ignite."
"It's nature energy, isn't it?"
Catching their attention, the two siblings noticed Nomasaki walking towards them with her expression both fearful and prepared. She appeared frantic through her eyes, her violet irises unwavering from the ore that struck her months ago. Pausing beside Gaara, she watched the ore carefully as she realized her breathing became irregular. Even only a meter apart, the ginkō ore still struck her senses with an unnerving chill.
"Yeah, or so they say." Temari replied, turning towards her. "How did you figure it out?"
"My Kekkei Genkai..." Nomasaki answered, quietly. "It uses nature energy."
Glancing down at her spread palms with saddened eyes, her fingers lightly trembled as she stared into them. Faintly, she could see the pink lines of her scar that marked her arm from under the blue fabric of her sleeve. It almost felt as if it were pulsing. Noticing her silence, Gaara gave her a concerned look while the ginkō ore fragment in Temari's hand appeared to be glowing.
"That's how I can sense chakra... and how I can transform with Ōkamitoko." She said, looking up to her. Straightening her arms at her sides, she sharpened her glance, masking the fear that lay behind. "I had my suspicions, but... I was hoping I was wrong."
"Your scar," Gaara started, his worried eyes meeting hers beside him. "Is it still...?"
Curiously, she pulled the sleeve down from her wrist, eyeing her pulsing scar that was etched forever into her forearm. Strangely, the peculiar burning she felt the day she was attacked returned. It began to feel as if the wound's memory was fresh in her mind, the same scorching agony echoing in her instincts as if a warning. Although her wound was but a mere scar, the intruding thought worried her deeply.
"I'm... not sure..."
The scar pulsed as if her very life was being choked out of her – the ginkō glowing rapidly.
"What the...?! Urnh...!"
A force of fire suddenly erupted from under her blood, boiling under the scar that lay claim to her pale skin. Clutching her arm, she cowered as she held in a scream, her fingernails digging into her skin to the point of small crimson droplets breaking through from the punctures. Her sudden collapse to her knees alerted both Temari and Gaara to the highest degree.
Something was terribly wrong.
"Nomasaki!" Gaara turned towards her, his eyes fraught with worry. "Are you okay? What's happening?"
Writhing before him, a sudden animalistic snarl escaped her breath.
Letting out a wolf-like bark of her fanged jaws, she leapt backwards in a burst of powerful wind. Alerted, his sand activated into a shield before him as the air pushed him and his sister back, knocking the ginkō from Temari's hand and onto the floor. Collecting himself as the sand retreated, he scanned the room to find her. Shocked, he saw her snarling above at them. Clinging to the wall on all fours as if some creature from a nightmare, his once kind and fair partner had become a growling beast of distorted human features. Her eyes were slit like a canid, fangs protruding from her mouth as she snarled while her fingers dug into the wall like claws. Her face was morphing into that of a monster – just as it did that time in the council chambers. With each heavy breath she released from her lungs, she felt as if she were burning alive, her muzzle slowly taking the shape of a beast as she heaved above them.
"Don't come any closer!" She barked towards them, her voice deepening. "Stay away!"
"What's come over you?" Gaara shouted over her snarls, stepping forward with his fists balled at his sides. She truly was monstrous. "It's that ore, isn't it?"
"Don't bring it inside!" She growled, her fangs growing even larger. "Get rid of it! Now! It's burning me from the inside... I can't control... my body...!"
Shocking them, they witnessed a bulge emerge from the backend of her silk robe. From her behind, a thick white tail made its appearance, its fur coarse and feral. The more she shook with each pulse from her bloodied scar, the wolf-like she became. Soon enough, her humanoid face changed into that of a snarling beast. Her instincts fully took over, covering her porcelain skin in her familiar coat of white – only this time it was purely hostile. As her blood boiled under her irritated skin, her muscles contracted, giving way to the beast that lurked beneath her.
Her blue robe was ready to burst at the seams.
"She's going feral," Temari stammered, wide-eyed. "Is this a reaction?"
"I've never seen her like this–!" Gaara replied, stunned at the sight. "Nomasaki, stay calm!"
"I... have to get out of here!" She growled, her voice snarling. "Get back–!"
Before their very eyes, she became dominated by the beast within.
With a bark-like snarl from her jaws, she gave in to the boiling in her blood, transforming into her wolf-form as the seams of her robe burst from her growing size. With a slight thunder and the sound of shredding fabric, her clawed paws hit the floor before them while her growls broke the air between. She became a beast, her height and strength rivalling the tales of direwolves spoken in distant lands. Towering over them for a moment, the massive wolf dashed away from them in a burst of white wind, smashing through the large window at the far end of the room in a haze of shattered glass.
The silence that followed was deafening.
"What the hell just happened?!" Temari gasped, bending down towards the tattered remains of her silk robe that lay sprawled upon the floor. "She ripped through her robe! Doesn't she usually transform with her clothes?"
Making his way towards the path of shattered glass at his feet, Gaara stuck his head out the crater of a window. Peering below into the village streets, gasps and wails of panic erupted as the wolf bounded through Suna in directionless haste. She was never one to willingly frighten the villagers or seldom cause a scene. Today, she had no choice. The commotion below reminded him of his first encounter with Hanone those many years ago – and now it was her who carried the torch in that regard. Hearing their reactions below caused a stir of intense worry to come over him. He had to find her before it was too late. Whipping his head towards her, he gave Temari and urgent glance mired in anxiety.
"Tell the council I'll summon them when I return!" He shouted. "I have to go find her!"
"G-Gaara–!"
Before she had the chance to even say his name, he leapt from the window with his sand in tow, disappearing hastily to the village streets below. Standing on her feet, she let out a dismayed grunt as she observed the gleaming shards of broken glass that littered the floor, the warm breeze of the desert entering the room with the sway of the dismembered curtains. Not only had she traveled three days alone, but the first thing she witnessed upon her return to her homeland was her friend unwillingly becoming a monster.
She felt as if she already overstayed her welcome.
"Goddammit!"
Catching her eye, she noticed the throbbing gleam of the ginkō fragment upon the floor by her feet. Picking it up, she glared at it within her hand, examining its eerie glow as its high-pitched spurts emanated from its touch. Placing it back into her pack, she decided that when Nomasaki returned, she would keep her distance.
The council would have to wait.
As the sun slowly faded beyond the sand-covered hills, time was running out.
Searching all afternoon, Gaara was unable to find her. Despite the path of destruction in her wake from the broken stalls in the market to the shaken villagers that withdrew into their homes, not a single soul knew where the white wolf vanished.
Perhaps she fled the village, he thought, Or returned to the mountains?
No – he reminded himself, She would not go that far.
Still, he was wracking his mind for places to look. A large wolf that towered over any man could not possibly be that hard to recover – even if the wolf stood out in the sands like a sore thumb. There were no wolves in the desert except her – everyone in Suna was aware of that.
Hours later, and there was still no sign of Nomasaki.
From a breeze of the desert winds, Gaara appeared in the silent alleyway with his sands. All around him he saw the remains of broken wagons, wooden carts, and a path of scattered wheat that followed the pawprints etched into the sandy earth below. The area seemed familiar to him, he thought – and then he remembered. It was the alley that was once her home, the cramped apartment where she lived since her arrival in the village those many years ago. As he looked to his right, he saw the winding stairwell that led to her front door. He saw her being bullied in that exact spot seven years ago and stepped in to deter away her adversaries – and it was at her doorstep where they parted after their first date together years later. It was a nostalgic sight to him, bittersweet in its memories.
He heard a rustle nearby.
Cautiously, he followed the path of clawed pawprints before him, leading him further into the secluded confines of the walled road. With careful eyes, he scanned the area around him, hoping for any sign she still may be close. Reaching the end of the path, he came to a dead-end near the absolute recesses of the village boundaries. Looking down, he saw that the path marked by a beast became a path of footprints mired in exhaustion. Beside each step was the faint evident of crimson droplets, following the path to where she gave up.
He found her.
Naked and huddled into the corner of where the walls met, Nomasaki was crying and shivering, grasping her legs close in efforts to stay warm as the desert air grew cool. Her skin was dirtied and bloody, glass shards appearing from the setting sun dotted along her exposed and vulnerable state. Unable to form the words, Gaara stood in shock at her fragility. It hurt him terribly to see her in such a way, as if wrenching a knife to his heart would be more desirable. Clutching her scrapped knees tighter as she felt his presence upon her, Nomasaki buried her gold head further into her position, desperately wishing that he could not see her. Her fingernails gripped into her skin tighter, pleading silently she would wake – but it was futile. Shivering, she choked back her sobs while her spine was chilled with the cold, aching for the warmth she once had.
"Leave–," She uttered, her soft voice broken. "Please – don't look at me... I'm a monster..."
Her words resonated within him, feeling her shame all at once. He tried his best to put on a brave face. "Nomasaki," He said, kneeling down before her. "You know I can't do that. I'm here to help–," Shocked, he realized how large the glass fragments were on her body. Protruding from her were shards of clear glass stained in blood lodged within the skin of her arms and legs. The soles of her feet were covered in it. Never had he ever seen her dealt such damage. Horrifying him, he could not bring himself to look away. "You're cut–!"
Rising her head from her scrapped shield of shame, she glanced at the glass lodged into her bicep. Her eyes were dull from her tears, the pain and trauma from the day still clearly visible within the lifeless violet that claimed them. "I shouldn't have taken the window..." She spoke quietly. "I just... couldn't stand to be in that room any longer... That ore... something came over me and I - I couldn't control myself... and now the world has gone cold around me..."
Slowly, Gaara directed a stream of sand towards her from the gourd at his belt. Gingerly, it pulled the fragments from her body as she winced from each release, dropping the bloodied shards to the cold ground of the alleyway. Free from her protrusions, she huddled into herself as a cold chill ripped through her once more, her eyes widened from the harsh feel. Instead of the comforting cold of her homeland that she craved, it felt as if it were a merciless cold from another land that was sent to destroy her. At the same time, she felt her blood boiling beneath her skin, itching to become a wolf once more despite her body pleading not to give in. The two forces of cold and hot were fighting a ceaseless war within her, with no victor to call upon. Clutching her shoulders with her shaking palms, her dirtied blonde strands fell upon her reddened knees.
"My body... it still burns... and I feel so cold..." Her eyes swollen with tears, she looked up to meet his concerned gaze upon her. "Why is this happening to me?"
No answer arrived in his mind.
Saddened, he averted his glance from hers. If he looked into her broken expression any longer, he felt as if he would be crying as well. "...I don't know."
"I scared the villagers... They seen me like that – a beast, and they ran..." She lamented, burying her face into her knees. "All I do is lose control... I really am just a monster..."
Placing his hand upon her shoulder, he gave her a comforting glance as her eyes looked up to meet his. "You're not a monster – you're you. Wolf or not, you're Nomasaki and you always will be."
In her shivering state, her eyes glistened with forming tears as she felt her heart swell within her exposed chest. Although his words were kind and comforting, she could not bring herself to be convinced they were true in that moment. The faces of fear from the villagers were too recent in her thoughts to agree – and she was all too familiar with fear. Opening the buttons from his burgundy shirt, he removed it from his back and passed it to her.
"Here," He insisted. "Since you ripped yours."
Surprised by his gesture, she looked at his shirt and its fine fabric, then back to him. Sitting before her and holding out his clothing for her to take, his bare skin drew her attention. The winds were getting colder as the night of the desert lands approached, and he was sacrificing his scarce warmth for her. She felt as if she could start weeping again, but at least for a different reason. Taking the shirt from his warm hands with a trembling grasp, she placed his shirt over her shoulders. It was too big for her petite stature, but that made it all the more suitable. It covered her as if a coat. It even smelled of him, comforting her even more as she felt the warmth from its eloquently stitched seams. Her delicate fingers trembling upon it as she held it closed over her breasts, she lowered her head in shame once more as she felt her sobs rise into her throat.
"Gaara," She wept, silently. "I'm sorry..."
"I know," He nodded, shutting his eyes tightly as he held her in his arms. "I know..."
Her shivers chilled through him, causing him to hold her closer as the desert turned cold.