Depths of the Sand

by Gaereth

The tale of a village covered in sand. The fall of the great Ichibi. And the rise to power of the Godaime Kazekage, Sabaku no Gaara. Sunacentric. On Hold.

Chapter 1: In the Beginning.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, despite my many efforts to remedy that.

I love thinking. Thoughts.

"I love talking." Verbal Conversation.

I love being a demon. Demonic Thoughts.

"I REALLY love being a demon." Demonic Conversation.

The sun was setting over the village of Sunagakure, and all was quiet. Children ran along the sandy roads, kicking a ball back and forth. Villagers were finishing up the days work, chatting amongst themselves. The shinobi patrols at the border of the village changed shifts, and here and there were small groups of ninja, training away. Off in the distance, on top of the huge wall that surrounded the ninja village, there was a four-man ANBU squad, running laps along the great barrier. And watching over it all with a peaceful eye was the Yondaime Kazekage, Sabaku no Aishin, standing on the top of the Kazekage building.

He was a tall man, but not overly so, and was of moderate build. His reddish-brown hair stuck out from under his large Kazekage headpiece, adding some color to his pale features. Despite his constant exposure to the desert sun, he was seemingly impervious to tanning, which vexed him no slight amount. He wore the official robes of his office, white with blue trim. That had always made him wonder. They called him the "Wind Shadow", yet there was no possible way you could hide in a shadow wearing such bright colors. Well, it was probably just one of those mysteries that life threw at you.

Aishin leaned forward onto the railing, his white and blue coat flapping in the constant breeze that swept through his village. He took off his official hat and dropped it on the tiles next to him, running a hand through his ruddy locks. He had gone up to avoid the paperwork, and to think about certain happenings about his village. He reached a hand inside his cloak, pulling out a small scroll. He opened it and looked through its contents, poring over it with surprising intensity. The scroll was the daily report on the goings on in the village throughout the day, which also contained all the mission requests that had been sent in. Unfortunately, decent missions were few and far between, which was a cause of daily annoyance to Aishin.

Hmm, four robberies in one day. The Yondaime thought to himself. Well, it IS a ninja village, I'm sure we'll catch whoever's doing it. I might make it a C-rank mission, just to give the Chuunin something to do. Ugh, no, Madame Shinimi's pet dog Hana escaped again… Wonder what poor Genin will get that mission. Oh, a request for escort, we don't get many of those. Two more assassinations and one item retrieval. This is pathetic, only six missions? He groaned again, rolling up the scroll and stashing it into his coat once more. He turned his back to the rails and relaxed, leaning back onto them. Aishin gazed at the sun, shielding his eyes with a hand. He thought back to when he was a just a Genin, in the days of the Sandaime Kazekage.

For a while he simply sat there, lost in nostalgia. He thought back to the 'good old days', back when he didn't have to deal with daimyos and what village attacked that one. Back when he was a Genin, it was much more straightforward. They showed him the enemy, and he would decimate them. He looked away from the sun and turned back around, facing the sandy village once more. He thought back to his Genin team. He smiled softly as he thought of Moukida Tatsuki, his first major crush. She had been the loud and obnoxious one of the team, always nagging at them to train harder and to not get complacent. But she could also be calm and sweet, and he remembered the celebration after their first mission. He shook his head in wonder. Truly, she had been the very nature of the wind; sometimes loud and gusty, and sometimes a soft and gentle breeze. Too bad he never had been able to take her on a date.

Aishin turned his thoughts to the other member of his team. Tenkou Renshin. He shut his eyes and shook his head, remembering his old friend. He had been the physical one, the strong and silent type, the one the girls fell head over heels for. With his gray hair, and his ox-like strength, he was the best physical fighter out of their entire class. Even back then, when they were only twelve, he had been tall. Before they became Chuunin together at age fourteen, he had been over six feet. And he never went anywhere without his sword. He wasn't the brightest of thinkers, but a veritable demon when a katana was in his hands. The Yondaime remembered that style, remembered how his sword flowed like the wind, slashing and thrusting with agility and power. He had never seen anything so beautiful, and yet so deadly.

Aishin gave a long sigh and turned away from the town, picking up his Kazekage hat. He held the hat in front of him, gazing at the Wind symbol emblazoned on the front. He remembered what had happened to his teammates. Shortly after becoming Chuunin, Renshin had suffered a mortal blow on a B-rank mission, and died slowly of blood loss. After that, Tatsuki was never the same, and performed missions halfheartedly, if at all. Then, on the anniversary of Renshin's death, she killed herself. She was only sixteen at the time. He wasn't absolutely sure why, but he thought maybe that emotional girl had secretly loved her impassive teammate, and had never told anyone. It was a terrible way to die, but perhaps it was better than living a meaningless life…

He shoved the wide hat roughly onto his head, discouraging that line of thought. It was unfortunate that they had died, but he couldn't let it bother him, not after all these years. He was the Yondaime Kazekage now, and he had his village to think of. Not to mention… Aishin walked back inside, a spring in his step and a smirk on his face. After going through the doorway on the roof, he looked at the staircase that led down, and the smirk was overtaken by an evil grin.

Ah, worthy foe. Aishin thought to himself. Long have you hounded me, and many are the times you've defeated me. But, no longer! Behold the hidden Kazekage maneuver! Banister Slide no Jutsu! His grin grew even wider as he jumped up to one of the banisters that stood on the inside of the spiral staircase, whipping his hat off his head. As he landed on the banister, he stuck his hat under his feet, so that it was between them and the polished metal rail. The cloth was a special material, meant to be relatively frictionless, and nigh impervious to most types of damage. This allowed the Yondaime Kazekage to grind and slide his way down the spiral staircase, howling and whooping in excitement as he descended quickly.

As Aishin reached the bottom, he performed a flip and a twirl that would make acrobats jealous, and landed lightly on his feet. Brushing some dust off his hat, he set it back on his head, tilting it slightly to pull off a rakish look. He laughed at the metal staircase, holding his fingers out in a victory sign. "Ah, you see? Your slippery metal steps will do you no good! I'm not the Kazekage for nothing, y'know!" After giving the staircase a very undignified gesture, he turned and strutted through the metal door at the bottom of the staircase. Unfortunately, he was too busy congratulating himself on his mastery of the Staircase of Doom, which explained why he never noticed the presence until it was too late.

Suddenly, his sixth sense warned him of impending danger, and he tried to duck down and out of the way. His agility and speed carried him away, but not far enough. He had moved seven feet in a split second, but it was far too late. Before he could react, he was face first on the floor, the brim of his hat mashed against his face. He moaned, and then yelped in pain as a heavy weight hit his lower back, sending little shockwaves of pain up and down his body. He groaned loudly, and raised both of his arms back behind his back, lifting them high into the air.

"I surrender!" he shouted, his voice muffled by the close proximity of the tiled floor. However, the weight did not leave, but only increased, and he whimpered softly. "Aw, c'mon, leave an old man be!" At this, there was a giggle, and the weight on his back was finally lifted. He turned over onto his back, moaning in pain as he felt his damaged back give small pops of protest. Wresting the mashed Kazekage hat from his head, he straightened it out as best he could, giving it a mournful look. Raising his hat high into the air, and clutching at his heart with his left hand, he gazed mournfully at the wrinkled remnants of the headpiece. In a loud melodramatic voice, as if performing a classic play, he spoke thusly: "Woe, woe, woe is me! For my children have followed their mother's vile ways, and hath ambushed their beloved father! Oh, would that I had never had these children, that so plague me with their incessant torture!"

He paused to take a deep breath, and was about to begin again, when he was hit in the chest by a flying yellow blur. Landing on his back, he laughed loudly, hugging the little ballistic missile to his chest. The missile stuck its head out of his embrace, showing a small face with bright yellow hair, which was tied off into four individual ponytails. The child giggled again, grasping the Kage with all the strength in her tiny arms. He chuckled, his deep baritone voice reverberating in the kid's ear. Using his Kage level stealth techniques, he slowly unwrapped his arms from about the little girl. Once they were fully unwrapped, he poised them next to the blond girl's sides.

He shouted "Tickle Torture no Jutsu!" and then struck, his arms moving in a blur. The kid squealed, and wriggled around in laughter, trying to escape her father's tickling torture. They laughed together and rolled over the hard tile, the girl desperately seeking a way out, her father never letting her escape. After a few moments of this, he grabbed the girl gently about the waist and stood up, hoisting her into the air above his head. She squealed in delight, flapping her arms as if she could fly. He laughed at this, and began running down the long hallway, the girl laughing and giggling all the way. At the end of the hallway, he came to an abrupt halt, much to the disappointment of the child. That was taken care of, as he grabbed her and tossed her up into the air, catching her and tossing her again. Each time, she laughed in delight, obviously enjoying her flight.

He caught her as she came down for the final time, holding her close him. She nuzzled her tiny cheek against his muscular chest, giggling from the aftermath of her flight. With her still wrapped in his arms, he walked down the hallway, glancing left and right as he went. He was obviously looking for someone, but no one was in sight. He sighed in defeat, and lifted the little girl out in front of him again. He held her close to his face, nuzzling his nose against hers. She giggled, and grabbed his cheeks, pulling and tugging on them. He made a few funny faces, and she laughed even louder. Then, he set her down on the ground and knelt next to her, intending to ask her a few questions.

"Hi, Temari! Did you have fun with Uncle Yashamaru today?" She nodded eagerly, and a bright light came into her eyes.

"Yeah! It was lots of fun, Daddy! He took us to the park, and I got to feed the birds, and then we went to see Momma! Kanky fell in the mud, and Uncle Yashy stepped in dog poop!" She giggled as she said that last sentence, obviously having enjoyed watching her uncle and brother make fools of themselves. He chuckled as she talked, thinking about his little son. Kankurou, who was only one year old, was so curious about things that he had almost gotten in some serious trouble. Temari, who would be three years old in two months, was loud and almost terminally happy. He sighed as he thought of them both. He was glad they were having such fun, even though it was bittersweet for him. He had so many duties that he was lucky to get coffee breaks, much less time off. He took one look at his adorable daughter and suddenly made a resolution. Come rain or shine, demons or angels, he would get home early tonight and spend time with the kids.

"Well, I'm glad you had a great time! Tell you what, I'll come home early today, so we can play games, and see Mommy, and then, if you're a good little girl, maybe we'll even go eat Ramen!" At this, there was an ear-splitting scream, and Temari lunged forward and squeezed her father as tight as she could, squealing out her delight. Her favorite treat was ramen, and she didn't get to eat it often, because Yashamaru was one of those health freaks. If it wasn't green or low fat, he wouldn't touch it. As a result, Temari had been stuck with salads and the like recently, and she was starting to get tired of it.

"Thanks, daddy! I'll be a good girl, I promise! I'll clean my room, and I'll make my bed, and I'll… I'll…" She gulped loudly, debating whether or not ramen was worth taking that final step. Then, she thought of those delicious noodles, and knew that ramen was definitely worth it. "I'll go to bed on time! I won't stay up at all, promise!" She stuck her hand out at her dad, hand clenched and just her pinky extended. He gave a huge grin, and then did the same. Extending a pinky of his own, he clutched her tiny one gently in his own, and she gave it a vigorous shake. A pinky promise was as good as a blood oath to Temari, and she would keep her word no matter what.

"I know you will! And, because you're such a good little girl, you get to be the Kazekage!" He whipped his hat off his head and smacked it down on hers, provoking another giggle. The large hat nearly engulfed her head, and she tilted it back and grinned at her dad. He smiled right back at her, feeling a strange sense as he looked at her. Her wide grin, the hat on her head, it all reminded himself of that day when he had become Kazekage, so long ago. He had been so happy… and yet so sad…

"Daddy? You okay?" Temari had lifted the brim of the hat, and saw her father simply sitting there, a faraway look on his face. Wondering what was bugging him, she had reached out a small hand and laid it on his forehead, her face scrunching up in concentration as she looked for a fever. He started, wondering why she had touched his head, and then realized that she had seen her mother do the same thing a month ago, when Temari had a small cold. A grin lit his face as he felt a warm feeling inside. His own children were trying to help him. Who cared about a bunch of old geezers on the council? He'd do what he thought was right, just like he always had! And he was damned if he was gonna let a few shriveled old men ruin his day. He grabbed Temari's hand and held it, giving her a wink.

"Daddy's just fine, don't worry. We should go find Uncle Yashamaru. You want a ride?" Her face split into a wide grin, and she nodded emphatically, spreading her arms wide to her father. He smiled in response, and snatched her up, setting her lightly on his broad shoulders. Making sure she was secure, and using a little chakra to ensure that she stayed on his shoulders, he set off down the hall. She laughed and cried out in delight, and she spread her arms as if she was flying. The Yondaime grinned as he rounded the corner of the hall, heading for a large open window.

Now running at an incredible speed, he leaped through the open window, Temari still screaming her excitement. He had jumped from the sixth story of the tall building, and was falling towards the ground at a speedy rate. He let himself get closer and closer to the ground, careful that he didn't frighten his daughter. She was used to this, however, and it was her favorite trick of her fathers, so she leaned forward against his scalp, just watching the sandy street get closer and closer. Then, maybe fifteen feet from the ground, he activated his powerful Bloodline limit. Focusing his chakra into the air about him, he gathered the stray currents and the displaced wind from his fall, herding them towards his feet with speed. Once he had collected them all beneath him, he shaped and molded them into a semi-solid platform, made from his chakra and the wind itself.

He allowed the platform to catch him in his fall, merely three feet from the ground, and then swept off into the sky. Temari grabbed his hair, squealing loud enough to break his eardrums. He winced, and wished his daughter hadn't inherited her mother's lungs. Ah, well, at least she was enjoying herself. He focused the chakra almost without thinking, as he had trained his Bloodline over the years to the point of mastery. His bloodline allowed him to control the winds and the air, and to make it into a pseudo-solid shape. It was one of the main reasons he had been selected as Hokage, as his bloodline was a perfect example of the power and adaptability with wind.

He left that train of thought, realizing that his platform was deteriorating quickly. With a sigh, he stood up on his decaying transparent platform, focusing his chakra and the winds into another one, Stepping lightly onto that, he continued soaring through the skies above Suna. Of course, nothing was all powerful, and no bloodline was without a weakness. And, in this case, his bloodline took borderline perfect chakra control and his created wind objects didn't last very long. So he had developed the habit of making a new platform with each step, at least whenever he went 'wind-walking'.

Slowing their rapid progress to a slow walk, he twisted his head around to look at his daughter. She was excited, and was making little "wow" noises. He shook his head lightly; she never got tired of his wind-walking. He kept walking along the air, feeling her movements getting sluggish and slow. He grinned, and twisted his head around to look at her. Sure enough, she was falling asleep, her eyelids blinking rapidly in a futile effort to stay awake. She rested her blonde head against her fathers and slowly drifted off to sleep. He chuckled softly as he heard her steady breathing. It happens every time; she gets so exhausted after doing this. He jumped off his airy position, letting himself fall down to the ground. Before he touched it, though, he slowed his fall by some deft maneuvering of the wind currents, and lighted on the ground with nary a sound. After all, the last thing he wanted to do was wake up Temari.

He looked around, wondering where exactly he was. Ah, the intersection of Oldway and Smith's Lane. Good, if he turned left and went down the armory street, he could cut across Healer's way and get to the hospital in no time. He was positive that Yashamaru and Kankurou would be there, with his wife. Yashamaru practically worshipped the ground she walked on, and he was no doubt worried out of his skin about her. The Kazekage, on the other hand, was far more relaxed, having been assured by her and her doctors again and again. It was normal, they told him. She was eight months into the pregnancy, these things happen. He sighed, and shook his head forlornly. Even after two births, he still couldn't get used to the whole 'pregnant wife' routine. Well, no doubt one day he'd get it down, even if it took a thousand kids.

He shuddered at the thought of a multitude of Temari's, and quickly banished the thought. No, he could barely handle the kids they had now, and once the new guy showed up, he and his wife would probably have to run all over the place to keep up with them. Add onto that his wife's ANBU missions and his own duties as Kazekage… Well, there just weren't enough hours in the day. Maybe if they chained up the kids while they were out…

He conjured a mental image of Kankurou and Temari chained to their beds, being forced by Yashamaru to watch Tele-Tubbies. He winced, and shooed away that thought as soon as it came. That was simply cruel and inhumane. No child of HIS would be forced to watch that crap, not while he still lived and breathed! There were some things that men were not meant to see, and dancing colored blobs with a television for a digestive system were among them. Probably near the top of the list, in fact. He should probably have a word with Kami-sama about that once he died.

Reaching the end of Smith's Lane, he turned right, and headed down Healer's Way. There, maybe a quarter mile distant, was the main hospital of the village, which was always bustling and filled with people. Ninja's lead quite the dangerous lifestyle, and are often in need of a quick fixer-upper. He thought back to all the times he'd spent in that hospital, sometimes with minor injuries or chakra exhaustion, and a few times where he had been at the brink of death. Absently, he rubbed an old scar on his chest and grimaced, remembering the old pain once more.

He reached the clear hospital doors, sliding one of them open with a deft flick of his wrist. He slipped inside the place and looked around, nose wrinkling as his nose took in the familiar and somewhat unwelcome scent of a hospital. He never had liked the smell of hospitals, and had even written a fourteen page poem once about how much he hated it. Of course, that was during a two week stay in the hospital, and his left side had been paralyzed at the time. There hadn't been much else to do. Breathing only through his mouth, he walked up to the large white desk that stood in the center of the large room. Steadying the snoozing Temari with his left hand, he grabbed a small pen and quickly signed his name on the guest list, the nurse bowing and muttering some greeting or other.

He didn't bother looking through the list of patients to see which room his wife was in, he could sense her chakra. Following it as best he could, he walked down the hall on his left, letting her aura guide him. Unfortunately, after the trail led to a janitor's closet, he doubled back to the desk and looked through the list. The nurse gave him a curious look, and he returned it with a wry grin. Finding the room number, which was 232, he set off towards the elevators at the back of the room. He avoided staircases as much as possible, and hated them with a passion that defied reason. He didn't know why, and it would have sent many a good psychologist to their deaths, screaming and ranting about "the steps of DOOM".

Pressing the small button to summon the lift, he settled in for the wait. It would no doubt take its sweet time arriving, probably for the lone purpose of driving him insane. He would thwart its dastardly plot, however, and strove to maintain his patience as he waited. Years seemed to pass, and the seconds felt like days. He imagined himself wasting away into nothing, and believed that the elevator would never come. He blinked his eyes, willing away these thoughts. He closed his eyes, thinking hard about the ramen he would have later that night. After what felt like a minute, the elevator finally arrived, and he clambered inside with great relief.

Pressing the button for the second floor, the sleek metallic doors slid shut and carried them up. He relaxed into the sensation of upward movement, loving the fact that he could do things with so little effort. He had always been lazy in nature, and despite his determination and drive to be the best, he had always hated having to work hard for it. Very shortly, the elevator dinged to announce their arrival at the second floor. The sudden noise caused Temari to shift a little, sticking a thumb into her mouth and sucking on it as she slept. He let out a breath he wasn't aware of holding; he absolutely hated waking up his kids. They always got fussy when they first woke up, unless it was their mother doing the waking.

Stepping out of the elevator with exaggerated caution, he glanced at the sign on the wall for directions. It soundlessly informed him that the rooms 225-246 were to the right, and he snapped a quick salute to the helpful sign and marched down the right hand path. Looking at the room numbers as he went, he found room 232. He reached a hand out towards the door handle, but hesitated. Why just walk in? That's what normal people did. No, he was the Kazekage! By Kami, he did things with flair!He looked around, searching for something… There! A ventilation shaft. Perfect!

He looked carefully at the shaft, judging its size. Yes, it would fit, but only barely. He definitely wouldn't be able to move well in this baggy coat. Softly setting Temari on the ground, he quickly pulled off his robes. After a bit of a struggle, he finally managed to get them over his head and onto the ground. As the mass of blue and white cloth hit the ground, he smoothed out his clothes, making sure that they sat right. He was wearing a long sleeved black shirt with a collar, and standard black shinobi pants. His kunai holster was on is left thigh, but he had no pouch on his belt. However, he did have a small canteen that hung from his hip, which he kept with him always. Under his dark shirt, he wore some basic underarmor, with some enhanced protection in the shoulders and a metal plate that covered the area above his heart. He wore no hitai-ate, but he had the symbol of the village emblazoned in a dark gold on his back.

Having finished his preparations, he turned towards the small grid in the ceiling. He was about to wrest the grilled cover off the shaft opening when he remembered something. Father's don't leave their sleeping children in the middle of the hallway. Things happen. Turning around, he did a few quick hand seals, shifting and changing the currents of the wind about his snoozing daughter. He infused the flowing current with his chakra, forming a sort of semi-solid shield. Then, flashing through a few more seals, he cast a small Genjutsu. It would distort the light in that area, making it appear like the small lump that was the sleeping Temari was not even there. He nodded in satisfaction at his work, then commenced with Plan: Classic-Sneaking-Through-Ventilator-Shaft-To-Surprise-Pregnant-Wife. Version 2.0.

Using tendrils of wind, he tore the cover off the opening, examining it critically to determine how best to get in. Then, gathering some chakra into his legs, he leaped into it, barely fitting into the enclosed space. He crawled forward through the small shaft, whisper quiet in his approach. Finally, he reached the vent that lay above his wife's room. He peered down through the opening, looking around the room.

His earlier guess was completely correct, as Yashamaru had indeed taken Kankurou there after dropping Temari off at the Kazekage building. He seemed mildly perturbed by something, but was holding his peace. He had sat in a chair by the bed and rested his head in his hands, his eyes closing. But, despite his brother-in-laws strange behavior, the Yondaime's gaze was drawn to the fancy hospital bed, and to its occupant. His face split into a wide grin, and his eyes lit up as he saw the love of his life.

There, laying in that bed, holding a snoozing Kankurou in her arms, was his beloved wife: Kyoketsu Hanaka. She looked radiant, the sun shining through the window to strike her face with startling illumination. She took his breath away every time he saw her. She was short, only four and a half feet compared to the Kazekage's six feet. Her brown hair fell in curvy waves, framing her pale features and aristocratic face. She wore a huge grin as she gazed down at her sleeping son, her brown eyes lit with an inner light. Even the hospital gown she wore did nothing to diminish her beauty, nor did her swollen belly. Tattooed onto her left arm, just below the shoulder, was the azure hourglass, the symbol for the ANBU Black Ops squad of Sunagakure no Sato.

He could do nothing but stare for a long moment, lost in a wash of warm, fuzzy thoughts. Shaking his head to clear it, he brought his left hand up before him into a one handed seal. Focusing his chakra, he began manipulating the wind currents in the room below. He shunted the flow of air towards Yashamaru, aiming at the pouch that he wore on his belt. The small flow of wind slipped inside the pouch. Finding what he was looking for, he cracked a smirk and used the wind to pull the discovered object out. Luckily for him, the flap for the pouch was loose enough that he was able to retrieve the rectangular object without alerting its keeper.

As it cleared the pouch, it was shown to be a book. Not just any book, but a bright orange one, with a rather large red symbol on the back, such as the ones you see on no-smoking signs. He floated the book high into the air, until it almost hit the roof. Then, before his chakra–filled dissipated, he wafted the book across the room until it was above the bed of his wife. Grinning in manic delight, he dropped the brightly colored novel onto his wife's lap. It landed with a thump, thankfully not disturbing the sleeping Kankurou she held. She started a little and glanced around the room hurriedly, ANBU training coming into play. Not seeing anyone, she looked at the orange book sitting on her lap.

She shifted her son so that he lay against her right shoulder, still snoozing, and grabbed the book with her left hand. She turned it around to look at the cover, and drew a gasp of anger. It was her mortal enemy, the bane to her existence. It was Icha Icha Paradise, the classic novel written by that almighty pervert, Jiraiya-sama of the Sannin. She had found that book sitting on the street one day, and had picked it up and read it. Her eyes had opened wide as she read the first chapter, and then threw the novel to the ground. Ever since then, she had carried a personal grudge against Jiraiya for writing that sort of smut, and snarled whenever his name was spoken.

But, she was confused. Why were perverted novels falling onto her lap? In a hospital, no less? Was it some sign from Kami? Or… was Jiraiya stalking her? Bombarding her with examples of his work? Her mind reeled at the thought, and she shuddered at the mere idea. She tossed the book back onto her bed, her mind wrestling with this enigma. When she happened to look at the book again, she was surprised to find it lying open, revealing the inside cover. She was about to close it again, when she saw something written on it. She picked up the book with her left hand, looking closely at it.

It read: "To Yashamaru, my biggest and best fan, who always gives me the greatest ideas." It was signed with Jiraiya's name, and had a small doodle of a woman doing something very inappropriate indeed. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and her horrified gaze came to rest on the distracted body of her brother. Him? A pervert? If this was true… She looked at the book again, even going so far as to try and dispel it, in case it was an illusion. The autograph remained, and the drawn female was still just as naughty. Her mind had now thoroughly proven her theory true, and her attitude went from shocked and disbelieving sister to righteously indignant anti-pervert ninja.

The book soared through the air, smacking into Yashamaru's head at high speeds. He snapped out of his reverie, feeling stunned and surprised. He looked down at the floor and examined the missile that had been used. His eyes widened in horror. Uh-oh. That was not good. His head rose slowly, his frightened gaze coming to bear on his enraged sister. Her brown eyes were flashing with anger and indignation. His mind jerked into high speed, and he immediately looked for escape routes. The door wouldn't work; he'd have to go past her bed. The ceiling was not a good idea, and the floor was definitely out of the question. He could go through the wall, but he didn't need to pay for stuff like that. His eyes fell on the moderately-sized window that opened up to the air. Bingo. He ran and leaped, and was out of the room faster than you could say "Pervert".

For a moment, her anger was still immense, and she considered getting out of the bed and chasing him down. What she would do when she caught him, she did not know. She sighed in exasperation, her rage at her little brother finally dying down. But, before she could relax, she heard a soft chuckling. Not just any chuckling… she let a small grin show on her lips, and then pressed them firmly into a disapproving line. So, deciding that her husband would learn not pull pranks like that the hard way, she was going to teach him a lesson. She shut her eyes for a second, knowing that this jutsu, while being relatively easy with the hand seals, was a pain to use without. But, it could be done.

She reached out with an invisible tendril of chakra, stretching it out and under her bed. She had her ANBU gear down there, along with various other possessions and necessities. Finding her kunai holster, she shoved the chakra into the metal of the kunai, activating a small seal that was engraved into its blade. The seal glowed blue for a moment, then died away. She grinned in triumph; the jutsu was a success. She now had complete control over the kunai. Her eyes still shut in concentration, she focused on the area in the ceiling she had heard the chuckles originate from. A grin came to her face, and she realized that her idiot of a husband had climbed through the ventilation shaft. She repressed an urge to groan; why couldn't he use doors like regular ninjas?

Setting that topic aside for later, she used her chakra to 'tag' the area that her husband was in, providing a target for her kunai. Then she used her complete control over the small throwing knife to lift it out from beneath her bed and have it hover directly underneath her selected target, pointing up at the ceiling. Then, she opened her eyes and stared directly at the opening of the shaft, giving it an evil smirk. There was a sharp gasp, and she knew he realized what she meant to do. But, before he could escape, she drove the kunai up into the roof, so that it passed right through her intended target.

For a moment, there was silence. Then the covering for the shaft was roughly shoved off, and it clattered to the floor. From the now completely uncovered opening, a reddish-brown mop of hair lowered itself, along with a pair of wide open brown eyes. He was sputtering in surprise, and terror was all over his face.

"Damn, woman! Be careful where you're putting those kunai of yours!" With a quick forward motion, he dropped from the shaft, somersaulting in midair and landing lightly on his feet. His face was full of fear, and his mind was clearly distracted by something. She gave him a wide, innocent look.

"Why, whatever do you mean? I was simply trying to kill a rat I heard in the air conditioning. And look! I was right; it was a desert rat!" she gave him a quick once over, eyes searching his muscular form for any injuries. He, however, was having none of it.

"What do you mean, desert rat? And do you realize how close you came to not having a husband anymore? You just about ruined your chances for any more kids!" Aishin lifted his left leg into the air, revealing a rip that ran along the underside of it, just below his crotch. She shrugged, pretending that she didn't care.

"Your point being? Besides, after this one, I think I'll have had my fill of kids. Temari's a handful all by herself, and Kankurou is proving himself one as well." Her eyes warmed, dropping her façade. She shifted over to the left side of the bed, making some room on the bed. She quirked an eyebrow at him, then patted the bed. "C'mon, have a seat. I'm tired of craning my neck to look at you." He gave her a grin, and moved to the right side of the bed. Being careful not to jostle her, he softly sat on the edge of the bed. Then he swung his legs up and around, getting into a comfortable position next to her. Leaning on his left arm, he reached over and stroked Kankurou's head softly with his free hand.

"Tired kid, huh? I hope he had fun. Temari certainly did." He grinned widely, then got even closer to her. With his mouth right next to her ear, he breathed softly in her ear. She giggled, shoving him away lightly.

"Stop that! It tickles." He laughed softly at that, but did stop. He loved to tease her, and she loved being teased, but they both pretended otherwise. It was a little game they'd been playing since long before they got married. She shifted Kankurou over to her left shoulder, making sure not to wake him. "Besides, you might wake up the little guy. Kami knows you're annoying enough." That brought an even wider grin to his face. He leaned over to her and turned her head towards his, softly kissing her full on the lips. After a moment, he pulled back and gave her a wry smile.

"Wench. I thought you'd be happy to see me. Was I wrong?" She giggled a little, and leaned into him, resting her head against his muscular shoulder.

"Always. But I still love you, despite your many flaws." He snorted in laughter, amused by her comment.

"And why is that? Was I wrong in marrying you?" He leaned his head against hers, and she nuzzled him softly.

"No, of course not. But it was my decision, and women are always right." She gave a wide grin, but then frowned in concern. "Speaking of women, what have you done with our daughter?" He gulped loudly, causing her to pull away from him and give him a glare. "Where's Temari? I swear, if you left her home alone again-"he held a finger to her lips, hushing her.

"No, no, don't worry. I learned my lesson last time. She's right outside, fast asleep. I put a barrier around her. Would you like me to get her?" She nodded emphatically, the glare not dying in the slightest. He sighed, looking for a moment the very picture of a whipped man. Then, slinging himself off the bed, he walked over to the door. Sliding it open, he reached down and dispelled the barrier surrounding his snoozing daughter. For a moment, he let her lie, just looking at her. She was so cute when she was asleep, but she could be a holy terror when awakened. Carefully, very carefully, he picked her up and cradled her to him. In an afterthought, he picked up the crumpled robe he left their as well. He carried her back inside the room, closing the door behind him, and reclaimed his place by his wife. Hanaka made a little motion to him, wanting to switch children. He silently nodded and handed over the snoozing Temari and received her brother in exchange, tossing the crumpled blue and white cloth away from him.

He held the sleeping Kankurou carefully. He held him cupped in his right hand and cupped the lad's face with his left, brushing aside some of his hair. Kankurou's hair would be similar to his father's, except possibly darker. Right now, it was hard to tell, but nevertheless their hair had the same texture, the same feel to it. He grinned, happy to know that his rugged good looks were being passed on. He lifted up a silent prayer to Kami, thanking him for allowing Kankurou to be so good looking. After thinking for a second, he lifted up another prayer that the boy wouldn't let girls take over his life. They were fun, but it wasn't a good idea to let them run things. As if on cue, his wife leaned against his left shoulder, cuddling Temari close. He grinned and lifted his left arm up and around her, holding her close to him.

"We got some pretty cute kids, huh?" She nodded in agreement to his statement, gazing in wonder at the girl in her hands. Her thoughts went back to the day of Temari's birth, when this little ball of energy had first come into their lives. She didn't remember much of the actual labor, just holding the child afterwards. Her husband hadn't been there, because she had lobbed a chair at him halfway through the process and ordered him out. She had been pissed at the time, but couldn't really remember why. But what she most certainly did remember was the warm feeling that had spread through her, that incredible surge of emotion that had carried her away. She had never felt anything like it, before or since.

"Yeah. We sure do. Guess it comes from having a pretty cute father, huh?" She craned her neck up and gave him a peck on the cheek. He turned and gave her a foxy grin.

"Damn straight! I am devilishly sexy, aren't I?" she quirked an eyebrow at him, and he coughed in embarrassment. "Of course, it's also because of my drop-dead sexy wife. Mustn't forget that. Isn't that right, my gorgeous desert flower?" She lowered the eyebrow and gave him a smirk.

"That's better. Nice save, by the way. I've heard better, but not too shabby." He gave her a mocking half-bow, being careful not to disturb the boy in his arms.

"Well, thank you. Nice to know I'm appreciated for something besides wearing brightly colored robes." She giggled at that, and then became serious. She knew his concerns for the village.

"Still not getting enough missions?" He nodded, sighing in disappointment. "But the war was over long ago. Konoha was attacked by the fox. The Yondaime is dead. And they're still getting all of our missions?" he nodded again, doubly despondent know. She had reminded him of the tragic death of the Yondaime Hokage, Kazama Arashi. He had quite liked the guy, and it was nice to know that he wasn't the youngest Kage around. He had been older then Arashi by a full year. But, after the attack of the Kyuubi, he had died under mysterious circumstances.

"I know, I know. But, even though the Yellow Flash is dead, they still have quite a few famous ninjas. For example, all three of the Legendary Sannin came from there. That fact alone is responsible for a great portion of their fame. Add onto that the Sandaime's title of 'The God of Ninja' and the rest of us get ignored." He groaned slightly, and then tried to crack a smile. "Well, at least we don't have it as bad as Iwagakure. After that war a couple years back, they've been doing very badly indeed." She nodded, somewhat distracted by something. He looked at her questioningly, and she decided to tell him what she was thinking.

"You know, what we need is some extraordinarily powerful shinobi. Right now, all we have going in our village that's really worthy of legendary status is you, and the Quicksilver clan. But, they've been dying out for quite some time now, and won't last much longer. And your old clan is gone, as well." He nodded, agreeing with her words. She was indeed correct on all points, and the desperately needed some powerful shinobi.

He thought back to 'his clan'. It wasn't even his clan, technically. His mother, Kazeshi Tomoe, had been part of the Noble clan of the Kazeshi. It was them that he got his bloodline from, and they had been there since the founding of the village. His mother had fallen in love with a nuke-nin from Iwagakure. She wasn't a ninja, and didn't know, but her family blamed her for it. He was driven away, but the child he fathered remained. She was disowned from the clan, and sent to live in the slums. When he was born, she was wasting away. All the money and food she got went to keep Aishin alive, and soon enough she was dead. The nuke-nin heard about this and was furious, eventually coming back with several other nuke-nin from various countries. Together, they snuck into the city at night and assassinated each and every member of the family. They meant to capture Aishin and carry him off with them, but they were surrounded and annihilated the ANBU, who had finally caught on, before they had a chance to do so.

He didn't like his mother's clan at all, and cursed their name. But he'd rather have them back than face this damned shortage of power. Now that they were no more, the village was down to one major bloodline. Konoha, according to his spies' latest report, had at least three or four. And one of those was the thrice-damned Sharingan. He remembered fighting an Uchiha once, and he was the very devil to beat. He got a little angry just thinking about it. Eyes that can see through any move, copy any jutsu, and anticipate your opponent's movements? That was the cheapest thing he'd ever heard. And, according to one of his spies that was close to the Uchiha, it requires next to no training, and it matures on its own. He had worked hard to master his bloodline, and had worked hard to get to this position, and to earn his fame. He hated people that tried to take shortcuts to power, and he especially hated people who stole other people's hard work, or took credit for someone else's job.

He felt a poke to his ribs, and blinked his way back to reality. He glanced over at his wife, who was gazing at him with concerned eyes. "Are you ok? You were just sitting there for almost five minutes." She pursed her lips, worried about her husband. She knew the pressures of his station were a lot to handle, and she also knew how much he hated the village's current position. He would do anything to reverse it, but he couldn't, and she knew that he hated feeling powerless. He looked back into her eyes with a look of sorry, but quickly shunted it away.

"Yeah. I'll be fine. Just lost in the past for a moment." He looked down at the children in their arms. "Y'know, once these little tykes grow up, I bet they'll be just as powerful as their old pappy. Isn't that right, little man?" He leaned in closer to the silent Kankurou, his voice falling into his version of baby talk. She smiled as she watched him make nonsense words and random sounds. She certainly hoped they would be strong. Their father was strong, and she was no slouch, so by all rights they should be kickass ninjas. But… did she really want them to be ninjas? She had been thinking hard about that recently, and wasn't so sure anymore.

When she had been a child, she had been the oldest child. Her father was a weapon smith, and her mother worked at the Suna General Hospital. Her father had come from a long line of smiths, and had gotten to Chuunin rank before retiring to become a full-time smith. Her mother had always dreamed of becoming a Ninja, and thought it was the greatest thing on the planet. Unfortunately, she had no natural talent, and couldn't use Ninjutsu or Genjutsu at all. So, her father and mother scraped up the money and sent Hanaka off to the Ninja Academy, wanting her to be a ninja in her mother's place. Her little brother, Yashamaru, was a year behind her, and would be going to the Ninja Academy as well. Hanaka had fit right in, her tough no-nonsense attitude had been perfect for being a ninja, and everything had gone great. When she became a Genin, her father had taught her a jutsu that had been passed down through her father's side of the family. She had done extraordinarily well as a Genin. Until her first kill.

She had been a Genin, on an escort mission. Her jounin sensei and her two teammates had sent her ahead to scout, and to report back on any potential threats. She had been caught by some mercenaries, and was forced to fight her way out. She had gone into a rage, and had used her family jutsu. She had taken control of every kunai and shuriken she had, driving each one into the throat of an attacker. She slaughtered twenty-two men that day. Her team had begun looking for her when she didn't report back, and found her weeping in the middle of a field covered in blood and gore. For a while, she couldn't operate as a ninja, and froze every time she went into battle. She was just so afraid that she might use her family's jutsu again and repeat that tragedy.

After a time, she got over it, and became a splendid shinobi once more. But she never forgot that feeling, and ever since then she never killed unless she had to. It was the terrible part of being a shinobi. The training, the spying, the constant missions, that wasn't the tough part. The hard part was death; death of those who were on your side, and those whom you fought against. She didn't want her children to face death like that; to be face to face with death everyday, to walk beside it, to do its dirty work. She did what she had to do for her village, because that's what she was born and raised to do. But not her children, not if she could help it.

She shook herself out of her thoughts and glanced at her husband, who was watching her with a concerned frown. She gave him a wide grin, trying to put his fears at ease. He didn't fall for it, and could tell that something was still bothering her, but he decided to drop it. He pulled her close to him once more, and she nuzzled close to him. He sighed in contentment; he loved times like these. No loud kids, no annoying paperwork; just him and her. He looked down at her, and gave a soft smile. He loved this woman.

He loved the way she looked, with her beautiful brown hair falling down in waves to her shoulders, her brown eyes glowing with life and energy. He loved her way of caring for everything and everyone, always wanting to help and never asking for anything in return. Whatever she did, she did 100. He allowed himself a knowing chuckle. Yes sir, she certainly did things to the limit. He thought himself the luckiest man alive to have a woman like that by his side.

His train of thought was derailed as he felt Kankurou shift. He looked at the little lad and saw him staring out from the crook of Aishin's shoulder, blinking in confusion at the world in general. He nudged his wife and motioned to her, and she made a little gasp of delight. He had to admit, that kid was cute. He set his large hand on the boy's head and gave it a little ruffle, mussing the brown hair. Kankurou made a little bubbly sound, and looked at his father with eyes wide open. He opened his mouth, working it a little. Then, his confusion cleared, and he stretched out his small arms to his father.

"Da-da!" He screamed it with all the force in his tiny lungs. Aishin was a little taken aback at the force of the boy's voice, and then smiled. He nodded at the lad, and then tickled his little belly with a finger. The boy giggled and laughed, squeaking in delight. This woke Temari, who groggily roused herself from her position on her mother's shoulder. Hanaka picked her up and set her down on her lap, where Temari woke up all the way and got comfortable. The little lass looked over at her father, who was still tickling her brother, and poked him roughly in the arm. He stopped tickling and glanced over at his only daughter, quirking an eyebrow.

"Daddy, I'm hungry." She pouted, and stuck a hand on her stomach, rubbing it from side to side. Kankurou's eyes opened wide, and he patted his belly too.

"Hun-gee. Hun… gee…" he pronounced the word quickly then slowly, rolling it around in his stomach. Temari nodded at him and gave him a thumbs up, which he stared at in childish intrigue.

"Yeah, we're hungry, daddy! I've been a good girl, so can we eat ramen? Please?" She looked up at her father and clasped her hands together, showing off the best set of puppy dog eyes ever. Aishin's only real weakness was those eyes, and many were the times that Hanaka convinced to do stuff because of them. He flashed his daughter a grin, and gave her a big nod. This drew a cheer from her, and a smaller cry from Kankurou, who always tried to copy his big sis. He glanced over at his wife, cupping Kankurou in his arms once more.

"You going to be ok here?" She nodded, and then gestured to a button used to call the nurse.

"Yeah, just fine. I'll just get the nurse to bring me some 'food'. Using the term loosely, I might add. Seriously, honey, I would rather eat one of old Gichi's ration bars than the crap here, but it is definitely healthier than ramen." Anshin grinned widely at that, as he remembered those bars well. He still had nightmares about them, in fact. Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, he stood up straight, Kankurou firmly cradled in his right arm. He stretched out his left hand to Temari, who grabbed it readily, and he swung her up onto his shoulders. She took her accustomed place with a little cry of glee, and pretended that she was on a tall tower, scouting for enemies.

While his daughter proceeded scanning the imaginary horizon, he leaned over and pecked his wife on the cheek. She growled at his timid behavior and roughly grabbed him by the jaw, planting a kiss directly on his lips. He smiled into her lips and kissed her back, pleased that he had been able to provoke her into this. They sat there for almost a minute, before Temari poked him in the neck, trying to get him to go so they could eat ramen. They separated, and he flashed her an exasperated grin, as if to say "I wish I could stay, but…" She gave him a knowing smirk, and blew him a kiss. He grinned back at her, and then walked over to the window that Yashamaru had broken open in his mad dash. He leaped out of it and began wind-walking his way across the city.

He hadn't walked far before he formed a particularly big platform and stepped onto it, letting it carry him high into the sky. From his high position, he looked for the familiar blond hair of Yashamaru, ignoring his daughters little chirps of glee. Finally, he saw him sitting on a rooftop. Leaping from his platform, he fell down from the sky, using the wind to catch him and set him down softly on the same rooftop as his blonde brother-in-law. Making sure that both his children were comfortable, he crossed over to Yashamaru.

"Hey, Uncle Yashy!" Temari's shout rang out across the rooftop, and he started and turned towards the shout. After a moment, recognition crossed his face, and his face split into a wide grin as he waved back. Kankurou stretched his arms out towards Yashamaru, who ran forward and plucked him out of his father's arm, swinging him around and around in the air. Temari climbed down off of Mt. Aishin, and ran over to glomp her beloved uncle. This set off a little twinge of pain in Aishin's heart, which he quickly stamped on. He had no reason to be jealous of his uncle, for Kami's sake, but, all the same, he was. He walked over to join the others, waving to his brother-in-law.

"Hey, Yashamaru. How's it going?" Yashamaru turned to him, and his happy expression turned to anger. He practically snarled at Aishin.

"How's it going? Oh, that's a fine thing to say, traitor!" He cradled Kankurou in his left arm so he could point an accusing finger at Aishin. "Way to go, man! Now my sister is gonna hate me, and probably something really painful. Why'd you do it, huh? Just for kicks?! I'll show you KICKS!!" Spittle was flying from the blonde man's mouth, and his eyes were aflame with betrayed anger. Aishin scratched the back of his head, a little freaked out that such an effeminate looking guy could get so pissed.

"Hey, look, sorry about that, bro. I just needed some alone time with Hanaka." That did nothing to appease Yashamaru, and only added fuel to the fire.

"Oh, alone time, eh? Kami, couldn't you have just said 'Excuse me, may I talk to your sister alone for a bit?'! It's not like it's a hard thing to do!" He was positively breathing flame, now, and his rage was starting to reach critical mass. Aishin raised his hands in surrender, not wanting to seriously have his brother-in-law attack him. He liked the guy, and didn't want to have to kick his ass.

"Ok, ok, you're right. I'm sorry. I'll get her to calm down, and I'm sure she won't castrate you for being a pervert. Much." The last word was whispered, but Yashamaru wasn't a jounin for nothing. The shit had just hit the fan. He took a deep breath, preparing to yell his Kazekage into a state of deafness, when Kankurou started wailing. Apparently, all of his uncle's shouting had made him frightened, and he reacted the way babies do best; crying about it. Yashamaru instantly lost his rage and turned his attention to comforting the upset lad, while Temari looked like she was about to tear up as well. Turning away from her uncle, she ran to her father, who squatted down and hugged her tightly. Standing up and carrying her with ease, still holding her close, he walked over to Yashamaru, who had managed to get Kankurou mostly calmed down. Aishin laid a hand on Yashamaru's shoulder, and exchanged an apologetic look with him. He nodded in acceptance of the unspoken apology, and they put it behind them.

"I'll take him back to the mansion. Let me know if anything happens with Hanaka, ok?" Aishin nodded in response to Yashamaru's words, and watched him jump down to the street below and run off towards the Kazekage Mansion. Setting Temari back on the ground and releasing himself from her hug, he looked at her. She was still sniffing; she hated watching people yell at each other, and much preferred to do the yelling herself. Well, if there was one thing that Aishin knew, it was how to cheer up Temari.

"Hey, want to go have some ramen?" It worked like a charm. Instantly, her poor mood vanished, and was replaced by a wide grin.

"YEAH! Ramen, ramen, so tasty and so great. Ramen, ramen, perfect for a date! Ramen, ramen…" she continued singing, remembering the lines of the lullaby her father had taught her. He grinned widely and picked her up, setting her on his shoulders once more. As he ran off towards the local ramen stand, he chuckled as he remembered the past. When she was all of a year old, he had taken to singing her his own little ramen theme song. He had eaten ramen most of his life, and never regretted it. In fact, he was known to call it 'the food of the gods' and to proclaim it as being solely responsible for his position as Kazekage. Well, along with his natural perfection, of course.

She continued singing all the way to the ramen stand. When they get there, she jumped off his head and hit the ground running. She was in the stand before you could say 'ramen', and caused no little amusement among the people already within. He followed her inside, pushing aside the heavy flaps that hung from the entrance. There was a loud cry of welcome as he stepped in, and several people raised their bowls in a salute. He laughed and waved back at them, throwing in a couple of mock bows for good measure. He made his way to the main bar, where Temari was trying to climb onto one of the tall stools. He hoisted her up onto one and sat down next to her, waiting for the old ramen chef that owned the joint.

The old man came over, wiping his hands off on his apron. Leaning against the bar, he sent a friendly grin to Aishin and patted Temari on the head. "So, what'll it be, Aishin? The usual?" Aishin grinned and nodded emphatically. He had been eating there for almost twenty years now, and he always ordered the same thing. The old man smiled knowingly and turned to Temari. "And what do you want, little lady?" She opened her mouth to order, but he raised a hand to stop her. "Wait, wait. I have an idea. Why don't I give you the special? I know you'll love it." She pondered this, then grinned and nodded. The old man nodded at her, ruffled her hair, and then went off to prepare their orders.

Aishin turned to his daughter, delighted that his love of ramen had found its way into the gene pool. Temari was sitting on the edge of her stool, bouncing up and down as she watched the old man prepare the ramen, her eyes wide open in amazement. Aishin turned to watch the old man as well. Despite his advancing age, the old guy was still making his ramen with the same speed he'd been going for forty years, almost too fast to see. One time, he had been a Chuunin, or at least that's what he told everyone. It would certainly account for his deft handling of the many tools and seasoning required for his cooking. Before long, their ramen was done, and he served it with a flourish.

Aishin's bowl was his standard miso ramen, with hardly anything special to it. Temari's, on the other hand, was stacked high with all kinds of meat, vegetables, and seasonings. Aishin looked at it in shock; he knew a ramen masterpiece when he saw one. This bowl shouldn't be eaten, it was too perfect. He glanced at the old man, who was grinning like there was no tomorrow. Temari looked at the bowl, lost in its allure. Her eyes grew bright and shiny, and she lifted up a loud "Itadakimasu!" before grabbing chopsticks and getting to work. He watched his daughter in amazement, as she waged war against this monolith of ramen. The old man was laughing now; he loved Temari like she was his granddaughter, and he always tried hard on her ramen. It was probably the reason she loved this place so much.

Shortly thereafter, Temari finished her bowl, draining the dregs from it. She set her bowl down with a loud thump, and rubbed her small belly in contentment. Aishin, who had finished his miso ramen mere seconds after it was laid in front of him, stretched out a hand and ruffled her blond hair. The old man was looking thoughtfully at the young girl, and his eyes were distant. Aishin knew he was probably remembering his own daughter, who had died five years ago. It still hurt for the old man, though, and Aishin did whatever he could to ease his pain. He slipped out his wallet and set down some money, which brought the old geezer back to reality.

"Oh, no you don't. No way in hell are you going to pay for your ramen! I won't have it." He took the money and grabbed Aishin's hand, slamming the bills into it. Aishin sighed in defeat; this was a little ritual between them. He would pay, the old man would refuse, but somehow Aishin would manage to give him the money anyways. He took the money back, deciding he would slip it into the old man's pocket when his back was turned. He gathered his winds about him, letting them waft the money behind the mans back. With deft control over a few wisps of air, he maneuvered the money neatly into the old geezer's pocket. Before the old man noticed, he grabbed Temari and walked out, ducking under the flaps.

Once they were a little bit away from the ramen stand, they heard the old man's roar of rage, realizing that he had been tricked again. Aishin grumbled at that, wishing the man would get over his whole complex about taking money from him. It was funny, but it got old after a while. He decided to go off to the mansion for the night, get in some training, and then hit the sack. Summoning a gust of wind, it carried him off to the Kazekage Mansion, where Yashamaru had just finished putting Kankurou to bed. The sun had dipped behind the village wall, and night would soon fall.

Landing lightly on the paved walkway to his mansion, he set Temari on the ground. She was full from the ramen, and tired too, but she managed to make it to the doorway without mishap. Once they were inside, he scooped her up and carried her to her bed upstairs. After setting her down gently on the bed, she fell almost instantly to sleep. He smiled softly at the sight of her, curled up into a little ball in her bed. He reached down and brushed a blonde lock away from her face, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand. After a long moment, he pulled away and left the room, closing the door softly behind him as he went.

He went back downstairs, looking for Yashamaru. He found him in the sitting room, relaxing on a reclining chair. Aishin walked over to a chair next to Yashamaru, sitting down and getting himself comfortable. He glanced over at the younger man, repressing a chuckle as he saw what book Yashamaru was reading. Luckily for Yashamaru, Hanaka wouldn't get home from the hospital tonight, or she'd beat the living shit out of him for reading that perverted stuff in the house.

"Want something to drink?" Yashamaru looked up at this comment, giving him a nod and a grin. Aishin grinned back; apparently Yashamaru's anger at Aishin's prank had been forgotten, and they were friends once more. Using the breeze that ran constantly through the house, he swept a couple of sake bottles from their position in the kitchen, carrying them carefully to the room in which he sat. He caught them out of the air, depositing one on the small table between him and Yashamaru, who picked up with a muttered "thank you". He cracked open his bottle and took a swig, letting the sweet liquid run over his tongue. It was the perfect drink to have after a delicious bowl of ramen.

"Thanks for taking care of Kankurou." Yashamaru nodded in acceptance, not bothering to glance up from his book as he took a sip of his own bottle.

"No problem. You and Temari have a good time?" Aishin quirked an eyebrow in reply, and Yashamaru laughed. "Of course you did, you had ramen. Forgive my ill-mannered question, oh mighty Kazekage-sama." After a faked arrogant nod from Aishin, they both chuckled, relaxing in each others company.

"So, what have you got planned for tonight?" Yashamaru shrugged, obviously not caring.

"Dunno. Probably just read Icha Icha. It's the only good thing about Nee-san being in the hospital. Did the doctors tell you about the baby?" Aishin started, and looked again at Yashamaru with narrowed eyes. If his brother-in-law knew something about his child, he had better tell Aishin.

"No, what happened? Hanaka didn't mention anything." Yashamaru nodded knowingly.

"Well, he's a little small for eight and a half months. But, as far as they can tell, he's healthy enough. He should be coming pretty soon now." Aishin relaxed, glad that there was nothing wrong with his child. A small kid he could cope with, but not a dead one.

"Good, good. No complications or anything?" Yashamaru shook his head, still reading his book. Aishin sighed in relief and took another swig of his sake. Well, the kids were asleep, the wife was away; now what was he supposed to do? It'd been so long since he partied, or just went and hung out somewhere. He was only twenty-five, for Kami's sake. Couldn't he have a little fun? "Hey, Yashamaru, you want to go do something tonight?" Yashamaru finally looked away from his book, his eyebrows lifted in disbelief.

"What, with you? You mean the Yondaime Kazekage-sama would deign to spend his time with little old me? Who are you, and what have you done with my brother-in-law?" they laughed together for a moment, and Aishin conceded the point.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I've just been so busy lately, and I can't seem to get a break. Add onto that all the troubles the counsel keeps heaping on me…" he sighed, swallowing down a good bit of his sake. Yashamaru nodded slowly, his eyes taking on a somber look.

"Well, you're the Kazekage; just tell the council where they can stuff it." Aishin chuckled at that, thinking of the looks on their faces if he gave them all the finger. "Well, in all seriousness, you are the leader in this village, not that group of geezers." Aishin thought for a moment, then shook his head slowly, a disgusted grimace writ upon his features.

"You would think so, but that couldn't work. If I tried to ignore the council, that would unite them against me. There was a law passed down by the Shodai Kazekage that if the council unanimously agreed, then they could strip the Kazekage of all power, except over strictly military affairs. I may be the law as far as the ninjas are concerned, but for anything remotely political or economic, they hold the reins. So they dangle that over my head, threatening me with it." He drained the last of his sake bottle, frustrated by the mere thought of it. "So, until I can figure a way around it, I'm screwed." Yashamaru gave a low whistle of dismay, thinking over the situation. Aishin was right; he was screwed.

"Wow. I never knew it was that bad. That's the part of the job they don't put on the brochure, I guess." Yashamaru sighed, draining the dregs of his sake bottle before continuing. "What if you simply-"He abruptly cut off his sentence and jumped out of his chair, seeing Aishin's face pale. "What is it? What's wrong?" Just as he finished his sentence, a feeling washed over him, smothering him in terror.

He gasped for air, his effeminate features contorted in fright. Aishin, undergoing a similar experience, tried to reach out to him, but couldn't. The feeling abated a little after a moment, allowing Aishin a chance to break free. He took it, and relaxed as the feeling faded away into a constant sibilant irritation. Annoying, but endurable. He looked at Yashamaru, who had also managed to break free. His eyes were full of shock and awe. Aishin felt relief for a moment, but was distracted by the nagging feeling that he recognized this feeling before.

"What the hell was that?" Yashamaru barely managed to choke out the words, and Aishin shook his head, still puzzling out the strange feeling. It had been similar to the time when he sparred with the Yondaime Hokage, and the sheer force and power of Arashi's chakra had almost overcome him. It was like that, but it had an added mixture of fright, despair, and an overwhelming sense of… evil? Why would it feel evil?

Then it hit him. Huge chakra. Frightening. Evil. It all added up. His eyes slammed open, and he stared at Yashamaru in terror. His brother-in-law was having trouble with the feeling, and Aishin walked over to him and gathered his winds close, providing a chakra-reinforced wind barrier about them both. Immediately, the feeling lost its potency, and Yashamaru could breathe again. Before he had a chance to say anything, though, Aishin had turned to face him. Any words he had been going to say were lost as he saw the pale, frightened features of the Yondaime Kazekage, and he felt as if the foundation of the world had just dropped away. A Kage, one of the five greatest shinobi of the world, was scared out of his mind. Aishin grabbed Yashamaru by the shoulders, gripping him with near-hysteric fear.

"It's him! It's him! Oh, Kami, it's him!" he shook himself, and brought himself a little more out of his fear. He tried again in a little more reasonable tone. "Yashamaru, it's happened. After all these years, he's free again." Yashamaru could only stare at him in fright, his mind blanking.

"Who's free? What do you mean?" Aishin looked at him for a moment.

"Shukaku. The Demon of the Sand is loose once more."

AN: Ok, you'd be surprised how little we know about Sunagakure. So, what I've done is take what we do know and make it into my own. I had to make up the Kazeshi bloodline and the Quicksilver bloodline (which is a Doujutsu type). The quicksilver will come in later, and it will also be translated into Japanese when I find someone who knows Japanese better than me. If there are any of you guys out there who want to help me out, I desperately need your help. Just send an email my way.

Another AN: I looked everywhere for information on the Yondaime Kazekage, but came up with nothing. Same with his wife, and I found very little indeed concerning Yashamaru and his little 'floating kunai' ability. So, I took what I could find and ran with it. So, if you have any questions or comments, don't hesitate to ask. And, as always, please review.