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Hatsu	By : dragonslover1 Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1420 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 7
- 8
- 9
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto in any way, shape or form.

Hatsu

Chapter Eight

�Tadaima.�

�Okaeri nasai.�

Gaara really didn�t understand why Suzaki had said that, but he was completely baffled why he�d replied. He supposed he could blame it on habit -- if he�d had such a habit. He�d been living alone since he was six, and though he knew the phrases, he�d never really used them. The closest he�d ever come to that was shortly after the first Chuunin Exam, when he�d had his senses knocked into him by Naruto; when they returned to Sunagakure, the word �tadaima� had been in his mind, though he hadn�t said it aloud.

He almost felt like frowning at the situation. He didn�t really want to become a guy like that, who came home every day and said the same thing to the same reply. Even so, he couldn�t help but think that it would be pretty nice to return home to find Suzaki here every day.

He wanted to shake his head of that thought. Instead, he opened his mouth. �Did Temari talk to you?�

Suzaki had been standing and staring as though locked in place by a genjutsu until that point. More or less kicking herself into motion, she took a step forward, nodding. �Yes, she did.�

�For how long?�

�Almost all day,� she answered, not looking at him.

�You wouldn�t tell me,� he started slowly, �anything that you spoke about, even if I ordered you.� He didn�t bother making it a question.

To his surprise, she smiled. �Nope.�

He didn�t realize it till then, but he liked her smile. She�d shown it so rarely, which bothered him; it seemed all he could do was make her unhappy with him. �Did you eat?�

She shrugged. �Snacks only. I was thinking of making something.�

That brought him to another point he�d been wondering earlier in the day. �Did you ever look through the cabinets in the kitchen?�

She shook her head. �I looked in the fridge once, but that was it.�

�So you don�t know what ingredients I have,� he finished.

She shrugged. �I might not have been trained to cook, but my mother was. I know enough.�

He came down the hall to stand near the opening to the kitchen, and lifted his hand towards it. �Then be my guest. I haven�t eaten yet either.�

She nodded and passed by him to go to her room. As she did so, he noticed the smell of her, stronger now than before because she�d been out training and sweating. He�d already been expecting to feel an urge to reach out and grab her, but he hadn�t been expecting for her to smell inviting like that --

Stop.

He wanted to follow her, unsurprisingly. He knew better, though; it was always so much more difficult to stop than to avoid starting. Logically, as long as he kept his hands off her, he wouldn�t have too much trouble trying to take them off her later. This was even more pressing now that he�d talked to Kankuro, though he hadn�t thought his elder brother would bring up the subject of Suzaki.

It was even more odd that Kankuro seemed to know everything there was to know about Gaara�s situation with her. Had he known that this relationship was so clear, even to his siblings, he might�ve tried harder to hide it. How Kankuro found out itself was a bit of a mystery -- anything that happened between he and Suzaki had been here or in his office, when no one else had been around.

Then again, how Kankuro learned of this hadn�t been a subject of discussion for the day.

He was getting off-track. Earlier today, he�d gotten off-track as well; his main order of business for today had been assigning a mission to Suzaki and her team. But when Kankuro showed up and had to have a talk, things had grown away from that purpose. If nothing else, he wanted to achieve something before the day was over -- perhaps consulting Suzaki?

She wouldn�t be able to offer much, he knew. That didn�t matter so much; even three words could count as progress. He heard her door open and realized then that he�d been leaning against the wall for a bit too long, looking over his shoulder to see her.

Oversized shirt and sweat pants again? At least he could say she was relaxed enough around him to not bother with what she wore. Which was too bad, in a way; he rather liked her Chuunin vest and skirt, himself. Sure, she was still alluring even now, but more so the more skin she showed.

She passed by him with a glance and a nod, entering the kitchen. She opened one cabinet, another, still another; she was scoping his foods.

Watching her shirt as it stretched and folded was fun, it really was. It made it a game, wondering what her back looked like under that extra cloth. Which, again, was something he shouldn�t be thinking about. He was staring at her as it was; she was likely uncomfortable under his gaze.

He stepped away, choosing to lounge on the sofa, feet up. Without looking at her (an effort, to be sure), he said, �You�ve heard about the animal attacks growing more fierce?�

�Yeah, I did,� she agreed. Something in a bag was put on the counter, it sounded like.

�Kankuro and I had a talk today,� he explained, �so I didn�t get around to it. But I was thinking of sending your team to investigate.�

�I also heard the attacks recently lessened,� she pointed out.

That was true -- since the rain, the attacks minimized greatly. But they were still happening. �Yes, but they�re still at it. I�ll call your team in for a briefing tomorrow.�

�I�m sure we�ll have it cleared up in no time,� she said with confidence.

He glanced at her then, partially visible between the counter and cabinets. He couldn�t see her face, but the part of her he could see was straight-backed, perhaps even arrogant. He frowned. �Confidence is one thing,� he advised her, �but pride can get you killed.�

�That�s why we�re in teams,� she countered smartly.

He was unsettled. Somehow the thought of Suzaki getting herself killed out of arrogance was greatly disturbing; he hoped it�d never happen. He wasn�t even sure enough of himself to accurately judge how he�d react to such news.

Suddenly the thought of sending her and her team out there sounded like a bad idea, track record be damned.

�Gaara?� she asked.

Somehow that surprised him -- hearing his name from her lips, spoken so easily. He looked over at her again, this time in question.

�You went very quiet,� she told him, leaning down to see him through the space in the kitchen, arms folded.

It would be a lot easier to find his tongue again if the neckline of her shirt wasn�t hanging down; he could see a partial amount of skin there. She didn�t seem to notice, their distance great enough that she probably thought he had met her gaze.

�Sorry,� he apologized, �but I was thinking.�

�I bet you do that a lot,� she said with a laugh, straightening up. A pan was set on the stove, filled, turned on. . .

Sounded like she was making rice and something else. Diced vegetables and chicken? There was a frozen packet of it in the freezer, unless she took it out. He didn�t imagine she would be actually dicing vegetables anyway; he doubted she knew how to. Most kunoichi didn�t, that was for sure.

�What are you making?� he asked.

�Sweet and sour chicken,� she answered happily.

He raised nonexistent brows. She tone suggested she really liked it. He queried, �You like it a lot?�

�Second favorite,� she told him. �First is orange chicken.�

�Chicken and chicken?� he echoed with a laugh. �At least you�re consistent.�

�Oh ha ha,� she replied flatly. �What�s your favorite, then?�

�Salted tongue,� he answered.

She made a sound he couldn�t quite decipher, but he already knew why -- she thought he was bizarre. Most people did, hearing his favorite food was salted tongue. Hell, most people wouldn�t touch the food, let alone try it.

�So. . .you like salted foods,� she said at last.

What a gentle way of saying it, he thought. �In a sense.� He could see her shaking her head, either in disagreement or to get the idea out of her head, he didn�t know which.

�Don�t worry,� he laughed, �I won�t make you eat it.�

She was laughing now. �I wasn�t really afraid of that,� she replied. �Just thinking about how disgusting it sounds.�

�Like a food that�s both sweet and sour wouldn�t be?�

�Hey, now, don�t disrespect the chicken,� she warned. �That dish treats me right.�

What an odd phrase. He found himself thinking that without passion getting in the way, he could actually have fun with this woman. �But the orange chicken treats you best,� he deduced.

�That it does. Well, currently it does,� she amended.

�That means. . ?�

�My taste in foods can change a lot,� she informed him. �A few years ago it was blueberries -- nothing but blueberries. Before that, ramen. It�s. . .pretty random,� she laughed at herself.

�So tomorrow it could change again,� he finished.

�Very possibly.�

He had the sudden thought that, if her favorite food could change so radically and so often, could everything she like do the same? His insides seemed to freeze for a moment as he considered it. She claimed to love him, after all -- what if, tomorrow, she didn�t? Could the two be related, love and food?

The prospect scared him. What if he found himself truly in love with her, what if they consummated their love, and what if, afterwards, she realized she didn�t love him after all? The entire situation was getting far too complicated.

Once, his belief was that love would appear strongest through sex, through making love. But what had he learned, if not the opposite? Those women hadn�t loved him in the least -- not in the way, nor the extent, he needed. Now he was living with the one woman he seriously considered to be the only woman who really loved him, and she refused sex altogether.

That refusal made him want to try that much harder, even as he respected her need for distance. And in giving her that distance, controlling his own needs (or trying to), he was getting to know the woman she really was. He liked her, in a friendly way. He thought her very attractive. He wanted her in more than a few ways. Hell, he might as well say it: he needed her with him. Needed her presence, her attention, her smile, her taste and feel.

A shiver went through him, focusing on the little tastes he�d had of her. But this was a horrible time to be thinking of such things, he knew -- she was preparing dinner, of all things, and his mind couldn�t have been further from the prospect of food.

On the contrary, his focus was on the cook. He found himself listing, one by one, all of the things he knew about her. At first it was the obvious (hair color, height, the shape of her lips, sound of her voice), and then it expanded into the tiniest things (blonde eyelashes, self-amused quiet laughs, the way she would silently inspect her hands). It grew to the point that he remained mute, watching what he could see of her between the cabinets and counter, until he heard her tell him the food was ready.

He went to the kitchen, but instead of taking up a plate, he spun her around. He took her own empty plate from her hands, set it aside, and kissed her.

She gave a jerk of surprise, though he wondered if it was because of the kiss, or because of the odd lack of passion he was giving. Unlike all their previous encounters, this one was different: quiet, slow, tender. He wasn�t trying to seduce her or devour her. He just wanted to tell her. . .something. Something that wasn�t coming to mind, yet he felt it was reaching her anyway.

He drew back from her slowly, with effort, knowing that each and every kiss he gave her counted as an added pressure on her. The last thing he wanted was for her to crumble from it, but he hadn�t been able to stop himself this time -- not even to come up with a reason why he shouldn�t.

At once he wanted to apologize, just in case. Her eyes were wary as she studied him, a one-worded question easily read in her expression: why?

The apology didn�t come out. Instead, he answered that question, �I like your smile.�

She gave a kind of shaky laugh, half-smiling. He was glad of that.

But, like he knew would happen, he wanted her a little more with every second he spent so close to her. He stepped aside and grabbed himself a plate. He said, �Shall we see how well you did?�

Her answer was another laugh and a full-blown grin. �I hope I won�t let you down, sir.�

He gestured the pan of chicken, noticing for the first time that she also made fried rice with vegetables in a pot. �Ladies first.�

�Normally the cook eats last,� she told him, even as she took up her plate again.

Whatever happened that night, he was happy it did. They ate, they talked quietly, they laughed -- she smiled -- and later, when she started to stifle her yawns, he sent her to bed. Surprisingly, she gave him a playful slap on the shoulder when he did so. As she headed down the hall, he had the urge to go after her, though that was expected.

And when her door shut and he was left with the dishes they�d left on the table, he dropped his head back on the sofa. Despite all of the passion, all of the furious desire and desperate need to have her, it was as though something had clicked in him. He had a control now that he hadn�t before. Was it the talk with Kankuro, the knowledge that Suzaki had a similar talk with Temari, the fact that Suzaki was smiling so much today?

Whatever it was, it was clear that he was more relaxed now than ever before. He still wanted her and, if he thought about her from the neck down, he was still aroused by her. But now he was content just knowing she was around.

Then he remembered, with startling clarity, that first word out of her mouth when she came back earlier. Tadaima.

He shut his eyes, thinking deep about it. That meant, didn�t it, that she considered his home as her home? Could he -- dare he -- believe that, in saying that word, she had just as well told him that she wanted to remain here, with him? Was his calm, quiet kiss his way of accepting her feelings?

He didn�t want to doubt it, to think of reasons why it wasn�t so. Not tonight, after such a pleasant evening and food and talk. He would much rather just sleep and dream happy dreams.
- 7
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- 9
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Hatsu