Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

"Mama, okaasan, your tummy is getting big," Temari pointed out brightly. The pretty little two-and-a-half-year old girl wriggled up into Karura's lap. Toddling after her was her baby brother Kankuro, laughing, his dark eyes sparkling. A year and seven months old, he was getting into everything and following Temari everywhere was his favorite pastime. He tried snuggling into Karura's lap and the only reason he didn't fall off was because both his okaasan and his neesan reached out to grab him at the same time.

Karura laughed. "Be careful, my little daredevil." Her first two pregnancy's had been practically on top of each other. She was thankful that she'd been given a little over a year to rest. When pregnant with Temari, she hadn't been too sure about motherhood, but now she couldn't wait for her third child to be born.

"Yes, darling, my tummy is getting big." Karura tousled her daughter's hair. "You and Kankuro are going to have an otouto."

Kankuro grinned, and Temari's beautiful dark teal green eyes lit up. "Really?!! A brand new baby brother?"

Kankuro shook her leg. "Okaa'", he lisped quietly, "when will brother be here? 'Mawi says babies take a long time to come." He screwed up his face. "Don't wanna wait." Karura knew that the lisp he possessed would dissipate soon enough; Yashamaru had had the exact same lisp, and it hadn't lasted past the age of two.

"You will have to wait for seven months at the most, my little ones. But you will have a baby brother."

"What's his name gonna be," Temari asked innocently, placing her hands on the smooth, expanding dome underneath her mother's dark brown dress.

Karura felt her face twitch. "I don't know yet."

Such folly. It had seemed so wonderful at first. Yashamaru was jubilant; he adored children. Takeo stopped being the absent husband and started paying active attention to her.

But something had seemed strange about his behavior. Even when he was trying to be closer to her, it seemed like he was growing more distant. He had difficulties meeting her eyes.

"Takeo, what is the matter," Karura asked, smiling, her voice full of teasing laughter. "Anyone would think you didn't want me to have this baby."

He didn't answer, tightening his jaw and giving her an almost sad look.

Something was wrong; very wrong. But it wasn't until she neared her fourth month of her pregnancy that the nightmare truly began.

"What?!" the fair-haired Sand kunoichi screamed, feeling her legs come close to collapse. "You can not be serious!" She moved her hands to her belly as if she thought she could protect the child within.

Two jonin came up at either side, clearly to restrain her and to escort her—forcibly, if need be—into the chamber so Elder Chiyo could perform the sealing. The one on the left she knew to be a young jonin in his late teens, Baki, a couple of years younger than her brother. He cast a sympathetic look at her, as if to say—Don't blame us. We're only following orders. She shot him and his companion a look of such utter loathing that they flinched as if she was holding an open flame to their flesh.

"I thought you loved me," Karura called bitterly, her voice going dead. "I though you loved me, Takeo. I guess I was wrong, wasn't I?"

The Yondaime Kazekage—he would never be Takeo or husband to her again—merely stared at her, his dark eyes shadowed. He did nothing to prevent the two jonin from hauling her off.

"Coward!" she screamed hoarsely, struggling with strength neither Baki nor his companion expected, as tears fell from her eyes. "Coward!"

He said nothing, did nothing. He did nothing in her defense, merely watched with haunted eyes as she was hauled away. The silent treachery, perfidy of omission, was worse than any open betrayal. Love warped into hate, and Karura could only think of how much she would love to sink a kunai into his stomach.

After that, she had sickened horribly, and she knew it was due to the sealing of Shukaku. Her first two pregnancies had gone so smoothly; the only glitch was that both Temari and Kankuro had been born a few weeks early. And they had been small but healthy babies, bawling at the tops of their lungs around the clock with healthy appetites.

Nearly as disturbing was the altered behavior of her brother.

"Karura, what's happened?" Yashamaru's voice was grown sharp and worried. The Kazekage had sent him outside the village, to determine the cause of death of two chunin who had been found dead out on the dunes. It was a ruse, of course. Any fool could tell another that two shinobi found dead on the dunes were dead of either heat or thirst. Sometimes both. It had been only to keep Yashamaru away from Suna, to keep him from becoming a "complication."

Karura did not answer. Her fists clenched as she sat on the chair, staring down at her lap. His voice seemed distant, a thousand miles off. Her mossy green eyes, tinted with slate gray, were glazed and unfocused. She was wrapped up in all-consuming rage, so much so that she might have been afraid of tainting the child she carried. No longer. Her child was tainted beyond all cleaning.

"Karura, what's going on?" her otouto's voice rose.

"Yashamaru…" her hands, callused but smooth as new leather, rose to her belly.

"Oh, God," he whispered, his eyes, wholly slate gray, widening as round and large and shuriken, "he didn't. Karura!" Yashamaru shouted. "Tell me he didn't! Tell me!"

Her head snapped up, and Karura saw that his eyes were filled with fear, wild anger, and something else. Guilt. This wasn't adding up. "Yashamaru, what do you know about this." Her voice hardened and her eyes glinted dangerously.

His face flushed; he began to fidget uncontrollably. "I've heard rumors, things in the streets…" he trailed off guiltily.

"You knew?!" she screamed, horrified. Yashamaru did nothing to assuage her fears. "Did everyone know what he was going to do but me?!" Karura howled blackly.

"Has he gone through with it?" the med-nin demanded urgently. "Has he had the sealing performed?"

She did not answer. She did not need to.

His face contorted in rage; his right hand itched towards his kunai pouch. "I'll kill him," Yashamaru vowed, moving to leave the room.

For Karura, time started again. "No!" With the swiftness expected of a kunoichi, if not of a pregnant one, she tore across the room and easily overpowered her brother.

"Karura, this will kill you! Don't you see?" Their eyes met. "Don't you see?" he begged more softly.

"Yashamaru, do I look a fool to you? I know full well I will die." Karura knew that she had to be calm if he was to listen to a word she said. "I am a jonin of the Sand, I do not fear death. I just wish…" she trailed off, her green eyes clouding.

"Yashamaru, promise me, that whatever happens, you'll take care of my baby. Tell me you'll love him like your own."

He stiffened, his eyes growing dark. "Karura, I don't know what you've been told, but if the sealing of Shukaku has been performed, than that is not your baby any longer. Your baby has become a monster."

She gritted her teeth. "Promise me, Yashamaru." Her low voice was deep with purpose.

He agreed, but the look of hate hiding behind his mild eyes filled Karura with foreboding. Suddenly she had yet another reason to fear for the child growing within her.

Karura closed her eyes tightly, drawing in deep, ragged breaths. Her baby. Her baby. What had they done to her baby?

The worst of it was that she knew exactly what they had done to her baby.

Lately, she had been having strange dreams that filled her with dread. Vague messages that she knew had to be the result of the influence of Shukaku growing in her unborn child.

In one, no, in many, she was wandering in the desert at night. She could hear a child crying far off in the distance. Tearing across dune after dune, her long skirt, dark green in this nightmare, fluttered and tangled against her legs, almost of it's own accord, slowing her down. She searched frantically, but the cries seemed to be coming from all around her.

Just when she began to despair, she found the child, her child. His face she could never remember, but she could remember the color of his eyes. Green, a few shades lighter than her own. He would stretch out his tiny arms in longing and desperation.

Just as Karura reached out her arms to take him up, something terrible would happen.

Her son would turn to clay, no, hardened sand, and he would begin to break. As she watched in horror, her clay-sand son shattered into a thousand pieces. He was hollow inside.

When Karura awoke, she would be covered in sand.

If she could not entrust the future of her children to Yashamaru, there was another she could call upon.

"Temari," she whispered in her daughter's ear. "Whatever you do, do not, never, marry an ambitious man. Do not fall in love with one who would sell his soul for the sake of power. It would be your death, as it has been mine."

The look on her three-year-old daughter's face was one of abject terror. "Okaasan?" she asked uncertainly, her voice quavering.

Karura wasn't done. "Always take care of your brothers," she murmured.

"I will, okaasan," Temari promised, her eyes shining with a strange light.

Karura knew it would be the last time she saw any of her children.

Karura wished she could have been able to tell Kankuro good bye. She knew that he was far too young to remember her once she was gone, and that even if she had told him good bye, he would have no memory of it when it would truly count.

She wished she could have told her children she loved them.

Three weeks earlier, she had been moved to a bedchamber with no windows and a bathroom attached. Two weeks earlier, she had woken up one morning to discover that the door was locked from the inside out. All of her shinobi weapons were gone. Kunai, shuriken, paper bombs, explosive tags. Her iron fan was gone as well. Obviously, they didn't want her to try to run and escape.

They expect me to run, out into the desert, in the condition I am in now? Fools.

I should have taken my children and ran, she thought bitterly, the moment I discovered I was pregnant. But then reality kicked in. Ran? Ran where? And I had no inkling of the danger we were both in until it was far too late.

Karura wondered how her children would fare when she was gone. She wondered if Kankuro would take after his father in any aspect other than looks. She sincerely hoped not.

Would either of them show proficiency with her fan? If so, who would it be? Or would it be her unborn son who fought with an iron fan?

She hoped Temari would become a strong kunoichi, and take care of her brothers like she told her to.

She wondered what her son would look like. If he would resemble her, the Kazekage, or some more distant relation. What he would think of her as he grew.

There were times when she feared that Yashamaru spoke the truth. That her son would be a monster.

She had already felt her pains beginning, nearly three hours ago. She would have to tell them soon.

I'm going to die, there's no doubt about that. I just hope I don't screw things up any more than I already have.

Of course, things never had gone the way Karura wanted them to. Because no matter how hard she tried, Karura always found a way to mess things up.

Her screams redoubled as the pains grew worse and worse. Karura could literally see her midsection rippling.

Though it was only January, the height of winter, the chamber was blistering hot. It was as though Karura was giving birth in one of the pits of Hell. It was appropriate.

She could only assume the frenzied yelling and pounding sounds on the other side were the sounds of Yashamaru howling to be let in. "LET ME IN! LET ME IN! KARURA! KARURAAA…"

Soon more cries could be heard. That of an infant. Chiyo stepped forward, her face grim, and performed her task. Karura howled madly, feeling as though she was being ripped in two.

Her head fell back against the cold stone table. She looked at the woman she had come to hate as much, if possible, even more, than the Kazekage. She had only two words for Chiyo. Her soft, hissing voice made Chiyo make an uncertain step back. "Damn you."

She had a few words to say with the village who had been too cowardly to warn her of her impending doom before it happened. Yes, Karura had a few words to say to the village who had stood by and done nothing. "May you never know peace. May Suna be swept away by storms and incoming armies. May this village be wiped off the map!" She was shrieking, deranged. "May the people be blighted, may the people die! May mothers weep for their sons. May fathers weep for their daughters. May Suna tremble and never sleep in peace again."

Karura raised her head to look at the infant bawling in the arms of an unwilling midwife. "As you grow, may your father know fear. May he know that my curse will last for eternity."

Whatever you may think of me, please understand that my hate is against your father, not you. Never you.

"What shall the…the…child, be called, my Lady," the midwife stuttered.

Karura sank against the table for the last time. "He shall be called Gaara," she whispered. Her voice began to die down. "He shall be called…he shall be called…

Ok, that was…so difficult to write. I don't believe that bull Yashamaru (I HATE that worm!) was spouting about Karura never loving Gaara, so I redirected her anger onto what was most likely the real source, the Yondaime Kazekage.

I named the Kazekage Takeo, because I read on a site that the name means warrior. I thought it fit.

Not a lot of people do one of these fics, so please tell me if it stands well with the others. Oh, I want to do another oneshot involving Karura, so I need your insight on something that you will probably consider very trivial. Do you think Karura would wear her headband on her forehead, or around her throat the way Temari did in Part 1?