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Gaara has decided that he will blame everything on Kankuro, as attempting to place any of the responsibility for this situation on Temari is liable to end in his own suffering. Which is not to say that he is not happy for his sister, in the months since her wedding she has been happier than he has seen her in a long time. For all that her new husband is somewhat odd and unfortunately altogether without ambition despite his high military rank and exemplary service record.
No, the fault is all Kankuro’s, who ceded his position as heir in favor of remaining in his basement with his mechanical oddities, abandoning Gaara to the tender mercies of high society. Such as they are. (If one more lady or lord expresses their condolences over his father’s death he will not be held responsible for his words or actions.)
And the constant hints about finding a wife are getting old. He never expected Temari’s betrayal.
“I know you don’t want to think about,” She says one evening when they are sipping tea on the terrace of the Nara estate, her preferred activities off-limits due to her advanced pregnancy. “But you would do well to marry.”
Gaara frowns at her and carefully places his teacup back on its saucer. “I did not expect that from you.”
His sister shrugs at him, her smile soft but the twinkle in her eyes the same, sharp look as ever. “I know you have no interest in marriage, but there are many reasons to pursue matrimony. You will need an heir, eventually. And a hostess for your house.”
“Or,” Gaara suggests, already knowing that his fate was sealed but still trying to fight it off. “I could cultivate a reputation as an eccentric bachelor, like Kankuro.”
Temari doesn’t respond with words but four months later, at a ball hosted in her home, she introduces Gaara to Miss Sakura Haruno. It is very obvious what she is up to, but Gaara has no room to escape before she leaves the two of them together in a corner.
Gaara is still struggling to find something to say when Miss Haruno cuts him off. “I am going to be frank, Lord Sabaku. You and I both know why your sister has introduced us, so if we could take this somewhere private, I shall be as open about my own circumstances as I may.”
Somewhat taken aback, though he probably should not be surprised that Temari’s friends are as straightforward as she prefers to be, Gaara nods in agreement and leads the way to one of the smaller libraries. He initially leaves the door open, but Miss Haruno closes it behind them, with no regard for her own reputation.
Before he can offer her a seat, she drops into one of the wing-backed chairs in a most unladylike manner and leans forward with her elbows on her knees, green eyes fixed on Gaara’s. “I find myself in a rather difficult situation, Lord Sabaku,” she announces with no hesitation. “And I believe we can help each other.”
“How so,” Gaara asks, feeling rather more like a spectator to this conversation than a participant.
“You need a wife,” Miss Haruno says bluntly. “And I need a way for my family’s reputation to not be destroyed when my pregnancy becomes obvious.”
Gaara really does not know how to respond to that. “Oh.”
There is a long, drawn-out moment of silence. “What about the father?”
Miss Haruno makes a dismissive sound. “He is traveling abroad and will not return for at least a year.” She is silent for a moment before she admits, much more tentatively then she has been up to this point, “His hair and eyes are dark.” And what goes unsaid is and so likely will the child’s be. It will be very obvious that the child is not Gaara’s.
But if he claims it as his, no one will dare say anything openly. The advantages of his class. And if the child is a boy, then he will have his heir with no need for more.
The wedding is planned and executed at a scandalous rate, but neither of them much care.