His mind still flared with anger when he thought about her. His hands still shook, his voice still trembled, his eyes still watered. Akamaru still rubbed his big head against his back whenever the former felt his companion shiver. But because she had already been gone for over a week, this only served to make Kiba feel more like a weakling.

Lying limply on the fields of lush green in the training grounds, Kiba closed his eyes while he tried to picture her life now – in those long flowing robes instead of the overcoat and Capri pants, having dust and sand being blown into her pure orbs instead of dry leaves on the floor. Having the Kazekage in all his redhead glory next to her.

Akamaru whimpered when Kiba threw a stray kunai at the tree, leaving a scar on its bark.

"Sorry, boy," he murmured, running his fingers through his fur. Akamaru felt rough – it'd been at least two weeks since Kiba had bothered to trim his canine friend. "Sorry," Kiba whispered again, this time apologizing for a thousand other things. "Sorry I'm not strong enough to brush this off. Sorry I've been neglecting you. Sorry I…"

Here, Kiba stopped. His throat was choked up by something he could not identify, and suddenly his eyes went all moist on him. Kiba sniffed, trying to hold his emotions back. He chewed on his lower lip, and he was sure his sharp teeth drew hot metallic blood. It tasted sour.

Then his vision dimmed, and Kiba's head snapped upwards to find the redhead girl who had been Sasuke's companion a while back. Oh, redheads. Oh, Sasuke.

"Scram," Kiba muttered loud enough for her to hear, quickly wiping the leaking moisture from the sides of his eyes. He would detest redheaded people for the remaining years of his life.

He saw her roll her red eyes, watched as she sat down next to him and sandwiched him between herself and Akamaru. She pulled her knees close to her chest, and her spectacles drooped ever so slightly down the bridge of her nose.

There was a silence, and then Karin turned to look at Kiba. "Hurts, doesn't it?" she said sympathetically, and she flashed a small empathetic smile.

Kiba stared at the small blades of grass. "Sucks to be you," he retorted, and the small green plants caught his tears.

~X~

Shikamaru ran his fingers over the crisp envelope of the newest letter. It was a smooth, creamy colour, and inscribed in rather messy scrawl at the front was his own name. He smiled to himself, contented with just staring at her horrendous handwriting that was just so her.

He opened the envelope as carefully as he could, and gently teased the folded letter out from the crevice of said envelope. Shikamaru traced each letter with his forefinger as he read his love's words by the window at her favorite dango shop.

~X~

Naruto played with his fingers as he waited impatiently outside the Hokage's office. He was close to biting his tongue in anticipation, and was about to claw away at the paint when the door opened noisily.

"Sasuke!" he blurted out, hurriedly crossing his arms together to appear as if he didn't really care.

The Uchiha snorted, turned around and dipped his head in the direction of Tsunade. The fifth nodded as she waved him off. Sasuke shut the door behind him, after which he started for the building's exit. Naruto came running after his best friend, a small bit of impudence starting to seep into his expression.

"What do you want? I'm busy, you know," Sasuke told him heatedly while the latter trailed behind the former.

"Just wanted to know how you're feeling, is all," Naruto answered, miffed. "About the Hyuuga Council..."

Sasuke rolled his onyx eyes lamely, his hands in his pockets. "I've helped them, and it was my decision. This isn't just about that. I know you too well."

Naruto blanched. "Well... About Sakura-chan..."

Sasuke raised a knowing eyebrow. "What about her?"

Naruto's eyes narrowed. "She's been crying the whole morning. What'd you say to her?"

Sasuke stopped walking, and by now they were just a step away from the majestic doors that marked the entrance of the Hokage building. A sudden wind swept a few dry leaves into the premises. "I let her go," Sasuke told Naruto, and he looked to the sun. The Uchiha had a small smile on his face, one that reflected a strange type of relief.

"I've never loved her, Naruto," Sasuke explained, taking one step into the sunlight. Dead leaves crinkled under his weight. "And I never will."

"But you," Sasuke continued, turning to look at his friend. "You've always loved her."

~X~

Gaara took a deep breath. He clutched his letter from Hiashi tightly like it was his lifeline, and to some extent it was. Taking another deep breath, Gaara opened the door to his bedroom and found his wife sitting serenely on the edge of the bed, re-reading the letter from her father. Quietly, the Kazekage shut the door behind him.

There was a silence that blanketed the atmosphere as Gaara made his way to his side of the bed, and Hinata only turned to look at him when he had made himself comfortable. Her eyes were reddish but not as puffy as they had been when he came back from his office. His eyes followed her hands as they placed the letter to rest on her bedside table.

"Gaara-kun," Hinata said pleasantly, and he didn't know if he was to take that as a greeting.

"I'm sorry I didn't allow you to go back to Konoha," he replied, but his voice sounded alien; it was trembling and it was choked. Gaara struggled for something to say.

"Thank you," Hinata murmured after a while. Still, her eyes lit up and her tone perked up. "But why? Why did you do it?"

Gaara chuckled nervously. He allowed a hand to stray across the duvet and his fingertips brushed against his wife's. Hinata took a moment to react, after which she smiled a warm smile. The kage gasped softly when she slipped her hand into his, entwining their fingers together. She squeezed his hand gently, as if urging him to continue.

"At first it was because of my duty to Suna," Gaara admitted sheepishly, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. "I could have called the whole thing off, and I was going to, but..." He sighed, gathering his thoughts.

"If I had someone who did for me what I did for you, I would have been a different person," Gaara replied slowly, "I fully understand now why my own father did what he did."

Another deep exhalation, and this time Hinata grasped his other hand with her own. Her hands were smooth and soft, so unlike Matsuri's, so unlike Temari's.

"During our Omiai..." Gaara's visage was shadowed by a small smile. "You were so beautiful. And so sad. And I felt like I had to protect you." Here he shook his head, wistful.

"Naruto would never have understood your family traditions. He would have engaged your family council in battle and that would just have erupted into civil war. Your cousin already found happiness with his lover. If you were to escape the cursed seal, you two would have to be married and he would have harbored resentment for the rest of his life. It's a sad existence, Hinata, I couldn't let that happen.

"So I agreed. And slowly I found myself... Feeling like I was obligated to protect, to defend with everything I've got. That emotion grew stronger and stronger and even though I couldn't express myself through real words I knew what I was feeling inside," the Kazekage frowned, his hands curling into fists. Hinata stroked his palms in a bid to calm him down.

"But goddamnit the communication was the most difficult, infernal thing I've ever had to deal with in my whole span of existence!" Gaara growled irately at the memories. "I've fought a war and countless battles, I've died and been resurrected and that aspect of humanity is still the hardest thing I've had to attempt. I'm just socially inept!"

Hinata laughed a light-hearted trill, a gentle decrescendo. "I was a mess too, Gaara-kun," she offered.

The kage stared at his wife in a pleasant fashion, taking in her features. He cracked a smile. "You're some sort of motherly figure, Hinata. I've heard people tell me I am the luckiest man on earth to have you, because you're such a beautiful and gentle and skilled kunoichi.

"I'm afraid I used you," Gaara shook his head, his slight grin disappearing. "You were like the mother I longed for, for the majority of my life, the parent I never had. I'm selfish."

Hinata seemed to be thinking her husband's last statement over, but her hands were still with his own. Then her eyes softened and she assured with her silky voice, her own unique medication for sore hearts, "I'm sorry. You are like the boy whom I loved but never loved me back. It would appear as if I used you."

There was a pause, during which the Kazekage inched closer to his spouse till their faces were mere centimetres apart, and they felt each other's warm breaths on their own lips. Gaara wore a sort of wearied grin on his visage, and his tire was reflected in his wife's pearlescent orbs.

"Your father loved you more than he did himself," Gaara affirmed as he allowed his hand to slip away from his wife's gentle grasp. He used it to cup her supple cheek, and she turned her head into his palm. Hinata wrapped her own fingers around her husband's. She nodded, sucking in her lower lip.

Then Gaara pulled her closer to the mattress, and Hinata knew what was coming next.

"Thank you."