Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Special Thanks: goes out to rao hyuga 18, kiti4life, XxMelony-kunXx, and NarutoShippings for all your reviews! Also thansk to everyone who's added this story to their favorites and follows lists!

Author's Note: Happy late Christmas and early New Year! After a little over a year, I offer to you the next update of Labyrinth! More to follow in the end author's note, but for now, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading!

*~Chapter XXVI~*

~Tea Ceremony~

It normally took ahout a month for a full chaji tea ceremony to be planned, and all the preparations made. Hinata only had two weeks. The tea garden and Roji path, the stepping stones leading up to the tea house, had to be spruced up, while still maintaining an air of naturalness; the structure itself made immaculate, from fresh paper in the shouji, to sweeping the tatami mats on the floor, to polishing the wooden pillars and panels to a silky gleam. Fortunately, Hinata could delegate the actual labor to the gardeners and household staff, though she still had to vet it to make sure everything had been done properly. Additionally, she had a theme to choose, which cost her many sleepless nights; the appropriate flowers and scroll for the tokonoma alcove selected; and which utensils she meant to use picked out.

She also had a menu for the cha-kaiseki meal to design; which consisted not only of choosing what foods would comprise the courses, but also the complementary dishes in which they and the accompanying garnishes would be served. That alone took almost a full day. Thankfully she could leave the cooking of it to the Hyuuga kitchen.

On top of all the physical preparations, Hinata also had to prepare herself mentally, emotionally, and spiritually to enact the ceremony. Her heart wept inwardly the whole time over the pain she would inevitably inflict on one of her suitors. Doubts as to her chosen course of action continued to tear at her. Nor could she talk them out with Tenten: The easy camaraderie between them, damaged by Hinata's frustrated outburst after finding out about the tea ceremony, proved slow to heal, unspoken thoughts of Neji's future hanging between them. Only the heiress's dogged perserverance in getting up however early was necessary to pursue her training regimen gradually began to repair the painful rift.

Gaara arrived the day before the ceremony. At dinner that evening, the barely concealed, self-satisfied smirk on Hiashi's face made Hinata feel sick to her stomach. If the Sunese lord noticed her parent's behavior, however, he gave no indication of it, but behaved with his usual reserved courtesy.

The morning dawned warm and clear the next day. Hinata knew, because she was awake to watch the gradual passing of the night as it yielded to the golden pink hues of dawn. Her inner firestorm of anxiety had burned itself out, leaving behind it a kind of emotional numbness she figured was going to be the closest she would come to the calmness needed to make it through the four hour-plus ordeal lying ahead of her.

The time for the chaji to begin had been set for noon. Hinata, of course, arrived at the teahouse situated in the middle of its own special garden considerably ahead of that hour, making sure everything was as it should be. With difficulty she refrained from adjusting the hanging scrolls and flower arrangements in the waiting room and the tearoom itself, knowing she would only be doing so out of nerves. Instead she forced herself to remain still, waiting passively for the arrival of her guest.

A little before the appointed time, slight noises penetrated the thin walls of the teahouse, letting her know Gaara had entered the waiting room, where he would change into clean tabi before going to the arbored waiting bench located in the garden. A little frisson of - something - tried to wiggle its way through her numbness, but failed. Taking a deep breath, Hinata stood and listened closely for the outer door to open and close again.

When the sound reached her, she counted off the appropriate interval of time before going to the door of the the teahouse. She slid the panel aside, two-thirds of the way with her left hand, the remainder with her right. Gaara stood up from the bench, and they exchanged silent bows. She withdrew once more into the preparation area of the teahouse, mentally picturing him proceeding to the tsukubai - a stone basin filled with fresh, running water - to use the provided scoop and ritually wash his hands and rinse his mouth before entering the tearoom through the small crawling in door. Again she waited, listening for him to close the door audibly, giving her her cue to enter the tearoom.

As expected, Hinata found Gaara standing in front of the tokonoma, studying the scroll with its gracefully depicted haiku hanging there, as well as the perfect blossom in a tall vase below and slightly to the left of it. She noted he was dressed in the height of formality in hakama and five-komen haori, his normally carelessly tousled red hair tamed for the occasion. A pity, she thought distantly. She preferred it in its normal, mussed state.

Bowing, she said, "Welcome, Lord Gaara. P-please, b-be seated." She indicated a low table on the tatami close to the alcove on the opposite side of the firepit where she would be sitting.

"Thank you, Lady Hinata, I am honored to be here." Gaara bowed in return, then moved to take his place, meticulously not stepping on the bound edges of the matting. "May I compliment you on your choice of scroll and chabana? The two are perfectly suited to each other."

"Thank you. The scroll has b-been in the Hyuuga family for n-nearly two centuries." Hinata gracefully sank into the traditional seiza-style seat. "It was made b-by the master calligraphist Matsumoto Tsuyoshi, in thanks for the Hyuuga hosting him d-during his stay in Konoha."

"I deeply appreciate your sharing this information with me." His light green eyes met hers in an intense look at complete odds with his humble tone before he dropped his gaze, obviously trying to moderate it.

Hinata's abdominal muscles tightened and quivered slightly in response. She took a centering breath. "I will lay the fire n-now," she said calmly, and proceeded to do so, ultimately setting the pot, or kama, of water over the bed of coals in the firepit to heat. Once that was accomplished, she withdrew briefly to the preparation room to retrieve the meal tray, which she then placed in front of Gaara. The foods on it consisted of the "one soup, three sides," traditional to a chaji: miso soup; plus sashimi on the far side of the tray; a lacquered, lidded bowl containing a variety of simmered foods; as well as a platter of grilled fish on the side, from which he would serve himself. A small bowl containing a scant mouthful of white rice sat alongside the soup.

After taking the time to appreciate and offer compliments on the arrangement of the food, the seasonal garnishes, and the tableware, Gaara took a bite of the rice, followed by a sip of soup, making his way around the tray in the prescribed order. He ate slowly, savoring each individual dish fully as was its due. Once he had consumed everything down to the last grain of rice, Hinata removed the tray and brought out a little lacquered lidded bowl containing a clear soup meant to clear the palate before the next course. That was followed by the hassun, made up of delectable morsels - gingko nut dumplings and prawns flavored with the merest hint of pickled bonito tripe - depicting the bounty of earth and sea, accompanied by sake and served on an unvarnished cedar tray. She noticed he took only token sips of the warmed rice wine, evidently not caring for its taste any more than she did. And though conversational rules relaxed slightly for this portion of the meal, they kept to neutral, everyday topics.

Yutō, a pitcher of hot water with slightly browned rice in it, along with some pickled items, came next. The cha-kaiseki meal finished out with a small sweet Gaara ate from a special paper called kaishi, which he took from the breast of his haori. When he was absolutely finished with his meal, he carefully dropped his chopsticks onto the tray with an audible click, the eating ends pointing left.

"I have had an excellent meal," Gaara said with a small bow, his knuckles resting very lightly on the tatami to either side of him. "Thank you very much."

Hinata bowed in return. "P-please excuse my p-poor cooking. I apologize for it."

"No, no, truly it was most excellent. I enjoyed it very much."

With this exchange of courtesies complete, Hinata bowed again and said softly but clearly, "I will n-now prepare the room t-to serve tea. Please return f-from the waiting arbor when you hear me strike the g-gong." She indicated it with a graceful motion of one hand.

After Gaara withdrew from the room, she took a moment to close her eyes and take several deep, steadying breaths. Now came the rigidly formal tea ceremony itself, which would require all her focus and concentration. It had to be perfect - flawless. Her fists twitched halfway closed. It had to be.

She rose to her feet and got busy, using the nakadachi break to clear away the used trays, dishes, and cups from the tearoom, depositing them neatly in the preparation area. She also moved the low table out of the way against one wall. With that done, she swept the tatami flooring, opened the tearoom's shutters to the midafternoon sunlight, and brought out the utensils she would use in preparing the tea, arranging them in a precise order on the matting relative to the firepit and Gaara's and her own places. She paused in front of the gong, her pseudo-calm facade cracking slightly as she pressed her palms together and offered up a brief but passionate prayer for the strength to do what she had to do. Composing herself once more, she picked up the striker and rang the gong to summon Gaara back into the tearoom, before going into the preparation area to wait for him and give him time to view the tea utensils.

When they had resumed their places, Hinata placed a bowl of sweets between her and Gaara, saying, "These are the sweets."

"Thank you for the sweets," he responded as he set the bowl to his right, it not yet being the time to partake of them.

Next Hinata performed a preliminary set of motions with certain items. "I will n-now m-make tea for you," she announced quietly. Taking a relaxing breath, she straightened her kimono so it would remain comfortably arranged around her for the duration. With her left hand she removed a fukusa, a square of silk cloth, from her obi so she could ritually clean the utensils she would be using in a precise order, ending by placing the folded cloth on the tatami next to her right knee. She poured herself into the movements of the ceremony, striving to make them flow effortlessly, seamlessly one into the next. Fortunately conversation was extremely limited to set phrases during it, allowing her to weave it into the fabric of what was meant to be a deeply spiritual experience for both of them.

Since it was November, Hinata had chosen the very oldest chawan - cup - in the Hyuuga collection for use in the ceremony. It had been broken many times over the centuries, each time painstakingly repaired with a mixture of lacquer and other ingredients, including powdered gold. After removing the lid from the pot, she scooped a full ladle of hot water into the chawan to warm it, careful to replace the scoop on top of the kama in a line with her legs, then gently stirred the water with the bamboo whisk to help soften the bristles prior to whisking the tea powder with fresh hot water. Discarding the water from the tea bowl, she moved on to the most critical part: the actual preparation of the tea itself.

"It can take years of practice to get the proportions of matcha powder and water right." Anko-sensei's voice spoke softly at the back of her mind as she picked up the ivory tea scoop with her right hand and the caddy with her left. Hinata had been diligent in her practice, and now confidently added three spoonfuls of matcha to the cup, using the scoop to smooth it before tapping it twice on the lip to shake off any lingering grains. She then returned the caddy and scoop to their places before ladling up fresh hot water and pouring a little over half of it into the chawan, returning the unused portion to the pot. Picking up the bamboo whisk again, she took extra care during the whisking process, not wanting any spatters to mar the ceremony. Once she achieved a well-mixed froth on the thick green tea, she drew a の symbol on its top, ensuring the foam floated in the center.

Picking up the cup, she set it on her left palm and turned it twice counter-clockwise so the design on it faced Gaara, and turned her body at a forty-five degree angle to place the bowl across the borders of the tatami in front of his knees.

He at once touched his fingertips to the matting between himself and the chawan. "Thank you for making tea," he said humbly. Lifting the cup, he rotated it so his lips would not touch the design on its front before taking his first sip.

"How is the tea?" Hinata asked.

"It is excellent," Gaara responded. With no other guests present with whom to share the bowl, he continued taking small, contemplative sips until the tea bowl was all but empty. Hinata received it back and immediately cleansed it. As soon as she discarded the waste water, Gaara said softly, "I have had enough. Would you please finish?"

"I will f-finish," Hinata replied, knowing the ceremony was still far from over. Now was the time for Gaara to ask questions about and examine the implements used to make tea, about the tea itself, as well as about where the sweets were made, among other things. During the flow of the dialog, he continued to prove himself as accomplished a guest as she was a hostess, never giving any hint beyond that initial glance what he actually felt - until the formalized question and answer session ended and Hinata gathered herself to prepare usucha, the thin tea.

Gaara extended a hand towards her, but stopped short of actually touching her. "Hinata," he said, his hoarse voice slightly raspier than usual, "please forgive me. I apologize most profoundly for marring what has been a beautiful and perfectly performed tea ceremony. But truly," his vivid green eyes caught and held hers, and Hinata's heart constricted at the pain in them, "it has been enough tea. The haiku on friendship- The yellow rose- I have no hope of you ever becoming my wife, do I?"

She wanted to close her eyes and turn her face away from the pain she had caused, but somehow she managed to keep her gaze steadily meeting his. "I am s-sorry," she forced the words past her tight throat. "I s-seriously c-considered leaving Konoha to be your wife. But I c-cannot reconcile my c-conscience with what that would mean: leaving Konoha to my sister. Hanabi - is not s-suited to b-be the leader of this village, nor has she b-been trained for it. The Council of Elders was d-designed to advise, not g-govern. And that is what they would have to d-do if I were to turn my b-back on my village and my b-birthright. I'm sorry, Gaara. B-but I c-cannot abdicate my responsibility to my p-people." She made a small, helpless gesture. "All things b-being equal: C-could you leave Suna for m-me?"

Regret slowly grew to replace some of the hurt in his eyes. He shook his head heavily once from side to side. "No. I couldn't. Suna is to me - what Konoha is to you." He tipped his chin towards his chest, finally releasing her from his gaze. "I understand the reasons for your decision, Hinata, however much I regret them. I'm sorry for putting you in such a difficult position."

"You d-didn't, Gaara. My f-father d-did." She meant it as a reassurance; but at her words, she saw his shoulders tense slightly as his head came up again, something dark flickering at the backs of his eyes.

"I will tell Lord Hiashi that I withdraw my suit," he said, "but he - does not strike me as a man who will take being thwarted lightly. Hinata," a note of urgency grew in his voice, "promise me that you will be very careful and on your guard at all times."

A tiny shiver ran across Hinata's skin as an image of vicious, attacking dogs flashed through her mind. "He will b-be angry with me, and try to m-make me as m-miserable as possible emotionally," she said, trying to sound calm and confident, "b-but he will not physically harm me. That has never b-been his way."

"Accidents can happen, though." Now Gaara did reach across the intervening space to take her hands in his. "Don't assume that just because you're his daughter, you're - safe."

Hinata gently returned the pressure of his grip. "T-Tenten is, if n-not always actually with me, within c-call of me," she reminded him, hastening to add, "Except for t-today. We are alone."

Some of the tension relaxed from Gaara's shoulders. "Tenten, yes. She is absolutely loyal to you?"

"Yes, she is," Hinata replied with complete confidence. "I will b-be safe, Gaara, I promise."

His gaze searched hers for a moment more before he released a sigh and moderated the intensity of his hold on her hands. "I will always be your friend, Hinata, even if I can't be anything more," he said with all the solemnity of an oath. "May I still continue to correspond with you - as a friend?"

"Of c-course. I would m-miss receiving your letters very m-much." She pressed his fingers one more time with hers before gently withdrawing her hands to clasp them together in her lap. "I will always b-be your friend as well. Thank you f-for understanding why I c-can't m-marry you."

A wry grin touched his lips. "I think I always knew, deep down, I could never compete with Konoha." She noticed how Sasuke's name, even now, had never been brought up between them. "I'll leave now, and go speak with Lord Hiashi." He bowed deeply before getting to his feet. "Again, I apologize for ruining the ending of a truly beautiful tea ceremony." Without waiting for her to reply, he left the tea house.

Only when she was alone did Hinata begin shivering uncontrollably in anticipation of the wrath to come. At least Tenten should be safely back from the errand on which she'd sent her after coming to the tea house. She had a strong feeling she was about to be imprisoned on the estate again, and probably her bodyguard with her. She drew a shaky breath, telling herself she was not the same easily cowed girl she'd been just a few months ago.

Let her father think he had the upper hand over her. She'd made her choice - to stay in Konoha with Sasuke - and no matter what, she would not be swayed from it.

Drat these blasted figures! For a moment, Itachi considered throwing his laptop against the wall, but two things restrained him: his innate aversion to such dramatic, wasteful gestures, and the knowledge that his inability to concentrate was not the computer's fault, but rather his own.

It wasn't that his gentle wooing of Temari was failing to produce any results. They had renewed their previous habit from his time in Suna of taking an after-dinner stroll every evening, holding hands while talking casually of how their days had gone, or sometimes just enjoying a companionable silence. She also occasionally at other times initiated some kind of physical contact - laying a hand on his shoulder or his arm, giving him a quick, light kiss on his cheek or even his lips - which gave him the sense she was testing her own limits, and always left him aching for more.

But the nights were by far the worst. Sleeping in a separate room from Temari had been misery enough. Sleeping in the same room with her proved to be unmitigated agony. Long after she had fallen asleep (which she seemed to do with annoyingly little trouble), Itachi would lie awake, listening to the even cadence of her breathing, to the soft rustling of the bedclothes as she shifted position during her slumber, imagining...

He ground the heels of his hands over his burning eyes. Last night had been particularly bad; Temari's sleep had been uncommonly restless, keeping him awake longer than usual and inspiring thoughts of what it would be like to be in the bed with her, soothing her with his hands and voice and body. It left him nearly to the point of, in his sober, carefully considered opinion, howling at the moon.

That wasn't even taking into account the whole question of how/when to to tell her he was dying. Itachi knew his holding back the truth to be grossly unfair to Temari, but the longer he waited the more difficult it became. Somehow, he didn't think just casually saying to her one night over dinner, "Oh, by the way, no pressure, but you really need to sleep with me soon because I'll be dead in a little over a year," would fly all that well.

Dropping his hands, he tried to focus on the screen of his laptop again. He had to get a grip, he told himself firmly. But instead, he pushed abruptly to his feet, swaying slightly from the dizziness brought on by his sudden change in altitude, and took a couple of unsteady steps to the center of the room. His hands clenched into fists at his side. He closed his eyes again and took one, a second, then a third deep, steadying breath as he fought to control the tumult raging inside him. He stood there for an unknown amount of time, battling himself, not even hearing the approach of light footsteps along the verandah.

"Goodness, but you're looking grim! What's the matter, Itachi?"

Temari's voice, coming from not too far in front of him, startled him badly. His eyes flew open and focused on her where she stood a few paces inside the door, which was open to the mild weather. He met her inquisitive teal gaze, mentally scrambling for some sort of balance.

"Figures aren't lining up the way they should," he managed to say, gesturing vaguely toward his laptop. "I've narrowed it down to Hisao's report. It's riddled with inaccuracies. I know he and Sashiko are expecting their first child practically any day now, but if he's going to take over for his father next year, he really needs to learn to keep his head together." Taking in the air of suppressed excitement around her, he changed the subject by asking lightly, "And to what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your company at this time of day?"

"I was given half a day off." Temari moved a couple of steps closer to him, and he noticed for the first time how she had one hand behind her back. "I needed to go into the village."

Itachi's brow creased slightly. "I thought you went to the village just a few days ago."

"I did, but I had to go back to pick up something." She pulled her hand out from behind her and extended the narrow, flat box it held toward him. "Maybe this will help. Go on, take it and open it."

He accepted the box with a curious look, and did as she bade him. Removing the lid, he brushed aside a couple of layers of tissue paper to disclose a necklace nestled within; a decidedly masculine necklace consisting of three silver rings strung on a black silk cord. With a sharp intake of breath, he lifted it and turned it toward the light to examine it more closely.

"Temari," he said as he marveled at the simple yet elegant workmanship, "this is beautiful. And you got it for me?"

"I saw one similar to it the other day, only it had gold rings instead of silver. I thought how perfect it would look on you if it had silver rings, so I commissioned it right then and there. Here, let me put it on you so I can see if I was right." She stepped right up to him, taking the necklace from him and reaching to clasp it around his neck. The action made her body graze against his, and he felt his heartrate pick up. The silver rings rested coolly on his collarbones as she adjusted it to her liking. "There! And it looks just as good as I imagined it would." Her hands slipped down to lie lightly on his chest. "I know it's a week or so late, but happy first month anniversary."

"Thank you, my dear." His voice sounded husky even to himself. "I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you."

She twinkled up at him. "You don't have to have. You've already given me several things. I just wanted to get something for you." Stretching upward, she lightly brushed his lips with hers, once and then again. The second kiss unexpectedly deepened. One of her small strong hands slid up his chest and around his shoulder, tangling in his ponytail as she leaned into him.

Itachi's eyes closed, his arms lifting and fitting themselves around her, gently holding her softly curved, warmly yielding femininity against him. A tide of fire rose within him, higher with every thudding heartbeat, burning away his self-control. Unable to stop himself, he very lightly traced the line of her upper lip with the tip of his tongue. Temari uttered a gutteral growl deep in her throat as her body curled more tightly against his, her lips parting. His breathing quickened even more. In another moment, promise or no, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep from sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. . .

As from another world, the sound of footsteps barely penetrated the roaring in his ears. An instant later he heard his brother's exuberant voice say, "Itachi! Itachi, she chose me-" The sentence ended in an odd choking sound. Lifting his head with difficulty, Itachi saw through a bright, distant haze Sasuke, who held a scroll aloft, quickly backpedaling, his black eyes wide in a face burning scarlet as he was met with the matching glares of his older brother and sister-in-law. "I - I just - I was - never mind! I'll come back later!" He beat a hasty retreat.

Itachi's hand curled into a fist against the small of his wife's back even as Temari buried her hot face against his chest and began to laugh, a slightly hysterical sound that deeply contrasted with what he felt inside him. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut he rested his forehead on top of her bowed head, her hair tickling his nose as he tried to get his breathing under control. "I love my little brother, I really do," he said unsteadily. "Please excuse me while I go kill him-"

"It was our fault," Temari said, her voice muffled and rather breathy. "We did leave the door open..."

"That's something that can be easily remedied," Itachi said, but made no motion towards doing so, reluctant to release his hold on his wife. Maybe, he inwardly hoped, if he didn't let go of her, the spark would rekindle?

-Or not, as the case may be. Temari somewhat absentmindedly extricated herself from his arms and took a couple of steps backward, a small frown furrowing her forehead. "That - was decidedly odd," she said slowly. "Your brother seemed awfully excited about something. What was that he said? Something about, 'She chose me'? He had to mean Hinata, but- Aren't she and Sasuke already betrothed?"

Itachi tensed inwardly, not wanting to have to get into this topic with her. "Officially," he said slowly, "no, they aren't. Do you remember what I said the day of the picnic, after Sasuke got hurt?"

"Of course," she replied promptly. "You said Lord Hiashi didn't want to accept an Uchiha as a son-in-law. Though I've wondered," she added, "if he's so set against the match, why he allows Hinata and Sasuke to spend time together."

"Because from what Hinata told Sasuke, she and Konoha's chief negotiator, Yamato Tenzou, basically backed Lord Hiashi into a corner," Itachi replied. "Plus, I don't think he realizes how serious they are about each other."

Temari looked even more puzzled. "Then if they're so serious, why the whole bursting in here with the, 'She chose me' thing?"

"Because her father has been trying to-" force her? coerce her? pressure her? Itachi didn't think any of those phrases would be wise to use "-arrange a marriage for her." He took a deep breath, and finished in the gentlest tone possible, "With Gaara."

Temari went white as she took two sharp steps backward. "With Gaara?" Her sandy brown brows arched high before snapping down low over her eyes. "That doesn't make any sense," she stated flatly. "Hinata is the Heiress of the Hyuuga, of Konoha. I know you said Lord Hiashi isn't happy at the idea of having Sasuke for a son-in-law, but trying to marry her off to the leader of another village when that means she would have to leave this one seems - extreme."

Itachi sighed silently. She sounded so severe, as though scolding him for making a very tasteless joke. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, wishing he didn't have to get into any of this, and shook his head. "This whole situation," he began carefully, "has been - sensitive at best. Politics in Konoha can be vicious. Hyuuga Hiashi is manipulative at best, and his machinations encompass this entire village and beyond." He paused before adding, "The same can be said about my father."

He saw in Temari's eyes the exact moment she began to put pieces together, even with the limited information she had to work on. "I - see," she said softly. She lifted her left hand, showing off her wedding ring. "Because the Uchiha have a political tie to the Sabaku, and thus Suna, Lord Hiashi wants one, too - a more powerful one than your family." She paused for a moment, before saying, "Your father's planning a coup to take over the leadership of Konoha, isn't he?"

"That's what we fear, yes," Itachi admitted. "It's why a marriage between Sasuke and Hinata is so important. With our two clans bound together, a civil war would be averted."

"Meaning the next Heir or Heiress would be half Uchiha. Will that be enough to satisfy your father's ambition?" she asked.

"Aside from the legalities governing inter-clan relationships, we believe so." He nodded. "He'll be looking to rule Konoha through Sasuke and Hinata, thinking he'll be able to manipulate them however he pleases. He has no idea how deeply they - and I - loathe him, or how strongly they'll resist him."

"Answer me one more thing." Her eyes took on that flat, hard turquoise color he'd seen so often in the early days of their courtship. "Did you know about any of his plans when our marriage was arranged?" Her gaze bored unrelentingly into his.

Itachi met it unflinchingly and replied with all the honesty within him, "I did not know any of this when the arrangement was originally made. It was only after the betrothal was finalized that Shikamaru - you don't know him, but he's a friend of Sasuke's and a genius at analyzing the political ramifications of situations - figured out what my father intended, and the best way to thwart him. The gods and my ancestors as witnesses, Temari, I oppose his ambitions in every way."

Her nose wrinkled. "Don't know that I necessarily trust the witness of your ancestors, considering they're his, too," she muttered. "But," she drew a deep breath and then released it, "I do trust you and - I believe you." She rubbed her forehead with one hand and grimaced. "Still, this is a lot to take in. I'm going to go for a walk in the gardens, and try to come to terms with all this." She gave him an intense, troubled look before moving past him and exiting their quarters.

Itachi gazed after her, and drew a shaky breath. He sank down into a chair, feeling encouraged on one hand, yet deeply let down on the other. Memories of how closely she'd clung to him, how she'd responded to his kiss filled his mind and told him how close they'd come to becoming truly husband and wife- He sighed. At least Temari had said she trusted him and believed him, which was something positive to hold onto. For now, despite the disappointed ache in his heart and his loins, that would have to be enough.

*~To Be Continued~*

Author's Ending Notes: Happy (late) Christmas and early New Year! After over a year, Mama Jo and I are so, so happy to be updating this story again. The really big holdup on this chapter was the tea ceremony - months of research went into it, and then it had to be written. And a lot of detail was left out, even at that! Mama Jo and I really love that scene, and we hope you do, too. I'm also particularly fond of the second scene, as well - poor Itachi, though! But Temari is starting to figure out and find out what's going on, and things are really heating up! Thank you all so much for your patience as we keep working on this story - we promise we aren't going to abandon it. Though updates are very sporadic, we're not going to give up on this story until we can type The End! Thank you for reading this chapter, we hope you enjoyed it, and we hope to see you again for the next update (hopefully not after a whole year, though)!