Born of Lust and Envy...

It had certainly been some time since she’d seen Sakarias. Lips parted, she’d have to wait until the woman was done before speaking. Wouldn’t want to mess up what she assumed was an impeccably good job.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked once Sakarias was done.

   She smiles, admiring how the purple lipstick looks on her former lover.  The last time she’d seen Kohaku, well, things had been a lot different.  “It was less messy than kissing you.”

    “I really do need to deliver some documents.” Businessman spoke – calm and matter-of-fact. Glancing over his shoulder – steel eyes wandered across her form. DRINKING HER IN. The desperation written on her face made him hesitate – not because he cared. Right? Yoshikage was incapable of that. He had a SEVERED BODY back home that needed attending to – but, he lay back down on the mattress beside her. “Thirty minutes.”

Insomnia used to seem so easy.

Sitting in a tree, propped against the trunk, the Kazekage watched with weary eyes as the first beams of golden sunlight began to break through the the leaves of the forest. It was a rare view for him, in the sense that as Kazekage, he rarely left Sunagakure these days. Even this mission, a simple goodwill trip to Konohagakure, had been strongly advised against by the elders of his Village. But things had been peaceful, and Gaara had enough faith in his siblings that things would be well in hand for the few days he would be gone.

Besides; there were people in Konoha he wished to see.

What was not a ‘rare view’, was the morning sun, the blending colors in the sky as the sun began to dispel the shadows around him. It was a view he had seen nearly every night and day for as long as he could remember, signalling the end of yet another long, lonely and sleepless night. It was one of the many things he had been looking forward to leaving in the past.

But it turned out that even though the group known as Akatsuki had ridded him of one demon, it would seem that it had merely made room for more, making sleep still a rare luxury, but also something to fear. In other words; nightmares. After the extraction, he had slept long, and deep. It was an amazing feeling, but had been accomplished via an increased and temporary sense of safety. Since then, he lay awake at night, terrified to close his eyes lest he somehow regress to his monstrous ways, lest the memories of his acts trap him in illusions like a genjutsu created for him, by him, to suffer through until he was shaken awake by his siblings, or attendants, or managed to pull himself up in a cold sweat. Something that he used to dream if doing had turned into a nightmare.

And so, his sleepless nights had resumed. Unable and unwilling to sleep and face what awaited. But now, without the energy aid of the tailed beast formerly sealed within him, the sleepless curse was no longer free of major consequence. His energy dwindled, his wits and skills would be amiss, he could not think clearly. After one or two nights of this at a time, he would *have* to sleep. For the sake of his village. But no matter the remedy, teas, herbal concoctions, he took to try and keep him sleeping soundly through the night; it was no use. An hour or two was the best he could hope for. And he knew that he couldn’t go on like this.

And so brought him here.

His second, personal reason he had organized this trip. Why he had specifically requested both his protective siblings, who had made it their personal goal to help him, and would always take it upon themselves to watch him at all times, stay behind in the village, where they were out of range, leaving him free to do as he wished without explanation. Free to push his guards forward much longer then was reasonable, ti ensure that without one to wake them, they would sleep soundly while he ventured off on his own for a few hours.

After making sure that everyone was soundly resting, Gaara had made his way deeper into the forest. He wasn’t concerned about about running into anyone. Tired or not, he had more then enough faith in his own abilities. He always did. But he wasn’t so sure about his thought process.

/This is rather foolish….even if she exists, whose to say she, or her products are trustworthy. Perhaps Konoha will have something…/

But he had been that route. He had sent envoy to both Sakura-san and Tsunade-sama herself, and none of the provided medicines had helped. He just needed to sleep. So, he was searching for a mysterious poison maker, known only as Cas Sudou, rumoured to reside deep within these woods. It was said that she could create powerful poisons, but also medicines that were beyond the skills of any medic nin. Of course, those were..the more tame versions. Others claimed she was a witch, an unearthly being, who stole away children and men with a mystical charm. Really, Gaara didn’t believe it. It sounded like folklore. Superstition. Perhaps even a twisted myth formed from the stories of the Sannin Orochimaru. No mattet what, should the mysterious lady truly be dangerous; or exist, for that matter, Gaara doubted it would pose a problem. He was the Kazekage for a reason, and he would never allow himself to be 'lured’, or overthrown. But it was a desperate time, and if there was a chance that this Cas would have something that could help him, he would take that risk.

And, as the sun began to shine brighter and the birds settled from their early morning song to the chirps of daylight, to his own surprise, his gamble appeared to pay off as a cottage came into view. Perching in a nearby tree, Gaara observed it. He was not accustomed to the ways of camouflaging with the greenery of the trees as the Konoha nin, but it was probably better then openly approaching it right of the bat. Just because he didn’t believe in the stories, didn’t mean that there was not a chance this woman was a shinobi. And some shinobis liked their alone time.

Crouching in the tree, he examined the cottage closely. It looked fairly nondescript. Gardens, small but comfortable. Really, like any cottage you would see that relied on self sufficiency. But where was the inhabitant…?

/Is this truly worth it…?/

A hint of caution flashed through him once more, but the haze of exhaustion answered it for him.

*Yes.*

Jumping down from the tree, Gaara straightened his travelling cloak, his Gourd at the ready, just in case. And then, he approached the house, slowly and carefully, pausing at the door before reaching to knock, his eyes glued forwards, ready to face anything. And he knocked.

“Pardon me…?”

     She heard the knock -- kinda just barely -- and gets up from her garden at the back of the house.  She rarely gets visitors, and when she does it is usually the incredibly desperate, the lost, or the entitled.  There are a few people she’s usually somewhat happy to see, but even they haven’t shown up in a while.

There are days when the loneliness is a blessing.  Days when she’s unsure of herself, days when she hates the every inch of herself, days when she wants to erase her face and change it until she can’t see his influence anywhere.  Days when she’s flooded with memories that are so distant, so many, many years away, but all the same so close, creeping up on her like hands reaching for her back.  When everything is so bad that there’s nothing to stop her from drowning it all in something.  It’s always in the wake of those times, when someone to comfort her would be nice, that she’d curl up in bed with her jewelry box -- the jewelry box -- the one that stays locked.  She feels the weight of the mementos inside and remembers sweeter things.

Today is a good day, however, and a visitor is welcome.

She’s still not too good at sensing chakra.  Magic, yes, but chakra isn’t her bailiwick.  When she pokes her head around the side of the house to look at her visitor, it really only takes one look to tell that he’s a shinobi.  Only shinobi have that distinctive look.

Even though Gaara would likely not have any experience with magic, it is likely he’d still get a weird feeling from this person.

        Somewhere towards the south along the border between River and Fire country, closer to where forest gives way to plains with rivers that run through them, but deeper in the woods, there is a small cottage.  Three rooms, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a study, as well as a small separated area for bathing.  A small little thing, largely overshadowed by the gardens surrounding it, patches of plants exotic and mundane, managing the flourish in the soil enriched by the river.

Villagers in the closest little settlement -- in River Country -- tell stories of a witch in the woods who will steal away husbands and children, a story that is believed wholeheartedly by many of them.  Some of them have even seen her, one woman claiming the purple-eyed demon herself appeared at her doorstep one morning, looking incredibly disgruntled, and asked if she could spare a cup of rice.  Not a very scary story, but the old woman claimed she felt unable to resist the demon’s request, beholden to some unknown, otherworldly charm.

Cas woke up that morning with a strange ache in her back, but ignored it.  She ate some quick breakfast, took her medication, checked on a few things she had brewing in her study, and then got to work.

“Good morning,” she chimed softly, tying on her apron and pulling on gardening gloves.  She paused after a moment, noticing something out of place.  There was a new mound of freshly dug dirt near the roses.

The smile dropped off her face.

She pushed forward a wheelbarrow stuff full of sprouts in little pots and plopped down next to the mound, patting it.  “I don’t even remember... oh well, you must’ve had a rough night.  Datura sound good for you?  Datura sounds great to me.

After a moment, she got to work planting the sprouts for new bushes on top of the fresh mound, making sure the soil was good and softly talking to the plants.  Datura wasn’t a particularly important plant that she needed, but there were certain shinobi who preferred their poisons to have very specific effects.  This would introduce... a fun variety.

HOLY DAMN ITS A VENOMANIA BLOG