The first time Kankurou came to apologize, Kotone's brothers gave him a sound and well-deserved beating.
The second time, her father bellowed and described in detail several imaginative slow, painful deaths.
The third time, her mother guilt-tripped him until he would gladly have eaten his own foot if that would make it stop.
Kankurou planted himself in the middle of the walk outside her family's home for the fourth night in a row, determined to use his hard-earned patience and outlast their punishments for his failure. It wasn't as if they did anything he wouldn't do to himself if he could. He would return every night he could for as long as it took to atone for what he had done.
It was an hour after dark when the music started, drifting from the open round window that allowed the desert night's growing chill to seep into Kotone's bedroom. It seemed this was her own form of guilt-tripping. The playlist began by offering a standing ovation for his performance in deceiving her so well as to make her believe he could be faithful. Kankurou let the words strike him, exposing wounds deeper than the remnants of the bruises her brothers had given.
The next song told him to get lost. The best thing for her heart would be if he vanished from her life entirely, so she could pick up the pieces and try to put it back together.
Two more songs about what a jerk he was, and then they started over again.
Kankurou stood and listened a long time. Some time past midnight he started awake, keeping his feet more by luck than balance. The short playlist was still running.
"How does making yourself sick make her want to forgive you?" Gaara's voice behind him brought some semblance of thought back to his mind. His little brother's tone was dry, curious; he truly did not understand.
"Logic has nothing to do with love," Kankurou told him.
Gaara ducked under his arm, and Kankurou ended up leaning on him.
"That is not what I asked," Gaara noted. His tone changed little, but Kankurou knew he was amused. "You need sleep, Kankurou."
Kankurou nodded and would have fallen on his face in the process without his brother's lithe height keeping him somewhat upright.
"I'm stupid, Gaara." It was a fact. He had always suspected it was so, and now it hung out there for the world to see. "I'm just stupid."
Gaara looked at him, their faces close enough to be awkward if Kankurou was awake. "Foolish, not stupid," he corrected. "Stupid refers to the inability to gather and recall information. Fools make mistakes like yours."
Kankurou wrinkled his nose at his brother. "Thanks," he said. Was that his voice, slurred as though he'd been drinking? "You've made me feel so much better." His words ran into each other in their hurry to leave his mouth.
Gaara laughed. That's the only thing Kankurou could find to call the low rumble that filled the air around them despite its quietness. Kankurou was momentarily startled to silence.
"You laughed."
"People do that when they're amused, I'm told."
They arrived at their front door, which opened before either of them could untangle an arm. Temari helped Gaara drag Kankurou into the living room and dump him on the sofa. "Sleep," said Temari, using her older-sister command voice as she had not since he was very young. She covered him with a blanket. He was out like a light.
Temari sighed, watching Kankurou sleep. This was hard. Harder for him, she supposed, but really, how was she to stand by and do nothing when her brother was hurting so much? He was an idiot at times, but Kotone couldn't know what this was doing to him. Temari shook her head with another sigh and headed for bed herself. "Oyasuminasai, Gaara."
Gaara nodded to her from his position by the window. "Oyasuminasai."