The Muralist

Chapter One

Six years had gone by since the Great War. The Joint Shinobi Army was won out in the end, though it came with a price to be paid in blood. People died. By the thousands. Families were shattered, homes destroyed, cities laid to waste. For the first two years, the wails of mourning and cries for revenge – though on what, no one knew, Madara had been slain – could still be heard throughout the land. The first years were chaos. It was almost as if the war were still ongoing, though the enemy was gone.

But through it all, they emerged, better, stronger, and more ready to see what peace could bring them. It may have taken years, but things were finally looking normal again in the Shinobi world.

Kazekage duties were finally winding down, Gaara reflected, settling into the more sedate (though he mightn't have realized it at the time) work of the years before the war. The army had been, for the most part, disbanded, so his duties as Commander General had come to an end as well. Although, like every other member of the army still alive, he still kept the forehead protector in a place of honor, ready to be used again should another threat ever descend on their world.

Of course, that didn't mean things were all fun and games. There was still work to be done, missions to assign, and the general humdrum of watching over life in Suna.

He did have the occasional ten minutes free, however.

In that time, he'd taken to staring out his window. He wasn't just looking at nothing, though, as he had been so apt to do in the old days. Now, there was something happening down there.

It involved an old, white wall that, until now, had simply been sitting there, reflecting the sunlight from an empty, abandoned building. No one thought much about it. Who would? It was a wall. Nobody cares about a simple wall.

Or so they had thought.

About two months ago, the now twenty-year-old Kazekage had noticed someone who apparently did care. The person in question was a young woman, probably only a year or two younger than him. She showed up every day at the same time, about noon, caring a portable radio system and a sketchbook, sat down in front of the wall, and proceeded to draw. There was nothing extraordinary about her to make her stick in his memory. Her hair was dark brown and short, falling only midway between her chin and shoulders. Her eyes were an average shade of hazel, not very large and not very small. She wasn't tall or short, or fat or thin. She was just there. Every single day, when he looked out his window in the afternoon, he knew he'd see her there. On weekends, she brought a young boy, maybe eight, who played with other children nearby while she worked. When she wasn't there, Gaara found himself wondering where she was instead. It was almost to the point where the young Kazekage figured he could set his watch by the time the nameless artist appeared and left.

It wasn't until about a week ago that he finally learned what it was she was doing all those afternoons she spent staring at a wall in the baking sun.

She wanted to paint a mural. After a month and two weeks of careful planning, based off a concept she'd had for about a year, she was ready to submit her design to be approved. After all, she did need permission. She couldn't just show up with paint cans and start marking up the wall across from the Kazekage building, doing that would be graffiti.

It took a while for it to be approved. The council didn't think the submission of great importance, so they stuck it at the very bottom of Gaara's (rather full) inbox. He only found it before the year was out because he the corner of a colorful sheet of paper sticking out. Curious, he'd pulled it out – almost causing a paper avalanche in the process, but fortunately he had his sand to prevent that – and examined it. It was an intricate drawing of Suna, from a bird's eye view slightly behind the Kazekage building. At first, he was a bit surprised to find that the nameless artist had drawn him in, standing on top of the building with his back turned, looking out over the village.

He examined the picture for few minutes, surprised by how detailed it was. If he looked closely, he could see figures walking through the streets, or lounging on the rooftops as some villagers were apt to do when it started to cool off in the evening. Then, he realized that if this was in his inbox, there must be some kind of document accompanying it. So he dug through the papers – once again, almost causing a landslide – and finally found what he was looking for, lying alone at the very bottom of the basket. As he took it out, he reflected with a wry smile that it had been a long time since he'd seen the wicker of the basket.

He recognized the document format right away. It was a submission for a project in the city, written out rather sloppily in bright red pencil – perhaps the same one used to color the illustration.

At that moment, there came a loud knock on the door and Kankuro came strolling in before being invited, hoisting himself up to sit on the windowsill. "Hey, little bro. Still keeping yourself locked up in here, huh?"

Gaara glared at Kankuro, slightly peeved at him for messing up his concentration. The puppet master grinned cheekily back, ever-present purple paint distorting into new shapes with his expression. "So, what is so important that you haven't set foot out here for four hours?"

Gaara looked back down at the desk, at picked up the mural design. He stared at it for a moment, before holding it out to Kankuro. "Take a look at this."

Kankuro took the paper and whistled slowly, his eyes going wide. "Wow. Talk about detailed." He held the paper close to his face and squinted at it. "Hey, is that you I see there?" He asked, popping his out from behind the paper and grinning.

Gaara shrugged. "Probably. I am the only person who'd be standing on top of this building wearing Kazekage robes."

Kankuro nodded, and stared back at the paper. "What is this, anyway? It's pretty cool."

"Someone wants to paint a mural on that building." The red-headed Kazekage said, pointing out the window.

The puppeteer tossed the paper back down on his little brother's desk. "I think you should let them. It'd be good for the city. And it certainly would improve the view."

And so Gaara did.

Two days later, Gaara looked out his window in the early morning and was surprised to see the dark-haired artist already there, and this time carrying a can of black paint. The Kazekage frowned, watching as the girl opened the can and took a small brush out of her back pocket. When she started painting on the wall, he finally connected the dots. All along she'd been planning the mural. She must've only been coming in the afternoons before because she had a job, but now that she was working on an official project for the city, she'd be paid for that.

That had been a week ago. Now that he'd finished his paperwork for the afternoon, he was watching her work. Still only a small portion of the wall was covered, and that was just the rough outline. It could take her a year or more to finish, he realized.

If somebody asked, Gaara would not have been able to tell them why he felt strangely pleased by that.

…

"Aya-chan, why do you have so much paint?"

Hiro Nakamura watched curiously as his older sister followed him cautiously, balancing a stack of paint cans that hid her face.

"Because the first day, I didn't bring enough and I had to walk all the way back home to get another one. And also, I talked to the people in the Kazekage building, and they're letting me leave the paint there so I don't have to carry it every day. So I figured I'd stock up. There's nobody coming, is there?" Aya asked, the paint stack wavering. If she crashed into someone, it would be disaster.

Hiro looked, but the early-morning sidewalk was empty. Most of Suna's people were still asleep, waiting until the chill had released its grip on the air. They preferred heat to cold, and that was perfectly logical. It was a desert, after all.

The Nakamura siblings walked in silence for a while, Hiro bounding in front of his older sister, running back, then running away again. Ever since their parents died in the War, when Hiro was only two, Aya had been taking care of him and both were happy that way. Aya had mourned her parent's passing, though Hiro was still too young to understand, but she adjusted, and she still had Hiro. And that was all the family she needed.

"Hey Aya, do you think I could be a ninja?"

Aya shifted the paint cans in her arms to look down at her brother, who was now walking by her side. "Why do you ask that?"

"Because I want to be."

Aya nodded slowly, turning her face back to the paint cans and shutting her eyes. 'Okay. Breathe, Aya. You knew this might happen. Mom and Dad were ninjas. It's only natural Hiro might want to be like them. Be rational about this. He could be a strong ninja. Mom and Dad were strong, so he should've inherited that. He won't even get missions for a few years if he becomes one…'

"Why do you want to be a ninja, Hiro?" She asked.

"Because I want to be a hero! I want to be like Mom and Dad and the Kazekage!"

Aya had to smile a little at her brother's enthusiasm. Actually, she'd been suspicious about his ninja ambitions for a while. All the little pictures he drew in her sketchbook were of kunai and shuriken and famous ninjas (even though it was hard to tell who, or sometimes even what, they were.)

"And plus, when I'm a ninja, I can look after you instead of you looking after me!"

Aya smiled and shifted the paint cans to ruffle her brother's hair. "You're still a little small for that, kiddo. You do know that you'd have to go to the Academy and train very, very hard if you want to be a ninja?"

Hiro pouted. "I know that! I can do it, and I can prove it! Watch, I'll carry your paint!"

He then jumped up on a bench and grabbed the top two cans of paint, staggering under their weight. "Just watch! I'll carry them all the way there!"

"Hiro… we are there." Aya said, suppressing a smile and standing in front of the wall.

Hiro's face fell. "Awww…"

"But, it you leave one of those cans here, you can help carry the rest across the street to the Kazekage building. They're letting me keep them in a janitor closet on the first floor, so it's not too far."

Before she even finished explaining, Hiro dropped one of the cans and sprinted across the street. "Hurry up Aya! You're too slow!"

The brunette rolled her eyes and followed her little brother. "Not so fast, Hiro! I need to show you which closet we're keeping the paint in."

They entered the cool, tiled lobby of the Kazekage building, Hiro bouncing on ahead of them. The woman working at the front desk looked up and smiled at them.

"Good morning, Aya. So they finally let you start the mural?"

"Yeah, and they're letting me store the paint here, too. Can you tell me which way it is to janitor closet A3?"

"Just down that hall, actually. It's third door on your left." She said, pointing to the hall behind her desk.

"Okay, thanks!" Aya walked around the desk and found the door. "Hiro, can you open the door for me?"

"Okay!" He exclaimed, setting his paint down and swinging the door open so quickly it almost hit Aya. She laughed.

"Maybe not so fast, little buddy. We're not trying to kill anyone."

Hiro just grinned.

Aya stepped inside and found a deserted corner behind a mop and two brooms. She stacked the paint up there, making sure it wouldn't get in anyone's way. The last thing she wanted was complaining janitors and going back to carrying two cans of paint every day.

"Okay, Hiro, let's… Hiro?"

She looked around frantically, but the little eight-year-old wasn't in the hallway anymore. "Hiro?" Aya whirled around, but he wasn't hiding in the closet either. 'Oh my god… I've just lost my little brother… in the Kazekage building! This is not goooood…'

"Are you really the Kazekage?"

Aya breathed a huge sigh of relief when she heard Hiro's voice, barely twenty feet away in the lobby. It was followed by a wave of shock when she saw who he was talking too, followed quickly by a sensation of drowning in nervousness and embarrassment.

"Yes, I am."

Hiro was standing in front of none other than the Kazekage himself and his famous puppet-master brother, staring up at them in wonder. Aya thought she was going to faint.

'Oh god… I think I would rather have lost him instead…'

"Woooooww…"

Aya hurried down the hall. "Hiro, what're you doing?" She asked, thankful that she could at least stop her voice from shaking. 'Why did he have to find the Kazekage? Why? Of all people, why?'

Both men and the one boy looked up as Aya hurried over, taking Hiro's hand.

"Aya, guess what? He's really the Kazekage!"

"Haha, yeah, I can see that," Aya said nervously, glancing up at him 'Tall and imposing, anyone? At least he doesn't look annoyed…' Actually, the Kazekage and his brother were both smiling slightly. "Maybe we should leave the Kazekage alone, Hiro, he's probably got a lot of work to do…"

But her little brother didn't seem to be listening. "Didja know my sister is painting a mural? You're in it!"

Aya felt her face start burning and she wished she could crawl under a rock and die of embarrassment. It was one thing to be painting the mural, it was another to have her little brother running around telling the most powerful man in the village that he was, in fact, in it.

"Oh, so you're the muralist," The paint-sporting brother said. "I saw your design. It's pretty cool."

"Aha, really?" Aya asked, forcing herself to smile 'At least act like you're normal, idiot!' She yelled at herself in her head. "You think so?"

"Yeah. Looks like it's going to be a real pain to paint, though."

The muralist shrugged. "Eh, I like painting," She tightened her grip on Hiro's hand. "Speaking of painting, we should probably be going." She folded her hands in front of her and bowed, nudging Hiro with her foot to do the same. "Kazekage-sama, Kankuro-sama."

Hiro bowed too, and quickly straightened up to look up at the Kazekage again. "I want to be a ninja, just like you! I think you're the coolest ninja ever!"

Gaara's eyes went wide for a second, but they returned to normal so fast it was almost impossible to tell

"Hiro!" Aya called from the doorway. "Come on!"

"Bye Kazekage-sama!" Hiro said, running over to Aya and taking her hand.

Just as they were leaving, Aya looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.

…

Gaara looked out his window, down at the spreading mural on the wall. The muralist – finally, she had a name – was opening another can of paint with her little brother running in circles around her.

"Nee-chan, nee-chan, watch me! I'm gonna be a ninja some day!" The little boy, Hiro, was yelling. Aya was smiling and turning in circles, trying to keep up with the boy as he jumped from the sidewalk to the bench to the sidewalk again.

Regretfully, Gaara turned away from the window. So the muralist was keeping her paints in the building? Once again, Gaara found himself strangely happy for a reason he didn't know.

And then he saw how much the stack in his inbox had grown, and his shoulders drooped.

…

Aya worked all morning, spreading the mural further along the bottom of the building. 'This really is going to take a while,' She thought, wiping the sweat from her forehead and taking a drink of all-too-warm water. 'I wish I had some shade. Or cold water. Maybe I should bring a cooler tomorrow.'

The heat, however, seemed no problem for Hiro. He had made friends with some kids who lived nearby, and they were playing a ball game in park down the street. Every so often, he'd come running back over to Aya, have a drink of water, and then run off. The kid had limitless energy.

'I guess he would make a good ninja. His stamina's already at freakish levels.' Aya turned back to painting, frowning at the wall as she carefully maneuvered the brush to get a stroke just the way she wanted. 'Good thing Suna opened a ninja academy recently. I think the next enrollment is in June…maybe if he really wants to do it, I could sign him up.' Aya looked up from her work and back at her little brother, who was chasing the ball across the street. She smiled as he gave it an enormous kick, sending it sailing over his friends' heads and through the swing set.

"Aya? Is that you?"

Once again, Aya was distracted from her work and looked up sharply. A familiar looking, dark blue-haired girl with pale lavender eyes was watching her shyly. Aya's mouth dropped open.

"Hinata?"

The girl nodded.

Aya set her paintbrush down and ran over to hug her friend. They had met in the six weeks at the end of the War, and in that short time the muralist had become good friends with the shy kunoichi. Even though they hadn't seen each other for six years, they'd kept in touch through letters. But Aya had never suspected Hinata would turn up in Suna so suddenly.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were in Konoha!"

"Lady Hokage sent me as an ambassador. I'm supposed to give aid at the ninja academy here, and help supervise the Chuunin exams."

Aya grinned. "Does that mean you'll be staying for a while?"

Hinata nodded.

"Great! If you don't have a place to stay, you can stay with me and Hiro! We have extra room."

Hinata's eyes widened. "Oh, I don't want to be any trouble…"

Aya waved her hand dismissively. "Pssh, trouble? What trouble? It'll be fun! Our apartment isn't quite as grand as the Hyuuga compound, but it'll do. C'mon pleeeease?"

"Well… I guess…"

"Great!" Aya punched the air. Then she paused. "Wait a minute… something's off here…" Then her mouth dropped open. "Hinata, have you stopped stuttering?"

The shy Konoha kunoichi bobbed her head.

"Great! Even better! I knew you could do it Hinata!"

The Hyuuga smiled, fiddling with something on her finger. "There's something else I wanted to tell you, Aya… I would've told you in a letter, but I knew I was coming here soon so I wanted to tell you in person."

"What? What? What?" Aya asked eagerly.

"Well… you remember Naruto, right?"

"Of course! Who could forget him?" Aya said. "Didn't he ask you out when the war was over?"

Hinata nodded. "Well…" She said, smiling, and held out her hand. On her ring finger was a thin silver band with a lavender stone set into it.

Aya's mouth dropped open. "Is that what I think it is?"

Hinata nodded again.

Aya jumped up and down, clapping her hands, and then hugged the lavender-eyed kunoichi again. "Oh, Hinata, that's wonderful! When are you getting married?"

"Sometime next year. We haven't set the date yet." The Hyuuga's smile was small and bashful, but anyone could see she was practically glowing with happiness.

"Do you know her, Hinata?"

Aya looked around the blue-haired girl to see a tall man with black hair in a spiky ponytail and a Konoha forehead protector, a woman with sandy blonde hair in four pigtails, and a little, four-year-old girl with spiky black hair standing behind them. The little girl was swinging from her parents' hands, kicking her feet above the ground and smiling.

The muralist recognized the woman immediately, and hurriedly folded her hands and bowed. "Temari-sama!" 'What is this? Aya-has-up-close-encounters-with-very-important-people Day?'

The blonde woman smirked. "Well, it's good to see I haven't been forgotten yet." She said, swinging her arm slightly and making the little girl giggle.

"Temari, Shikamaru, this Aya Nakamura. She's the girl I met at the end of the war." Hinata said. "Aya, this is Shikamaru Nara, Shikako Nara, and, well, I guess you already know who Temari is."

Aya bowed again. "I'm honored to meet you."

Temari laughed. "Oh, you don't have to be so formal. If you're a friend of Hinata's, then you're our friend, too."

"But…" Aya began, 'You're the Kazekage's sister? You're one of the most powerful kunoichi alive? Force of habit?'

Temari was already waving her head dismissively before Aya could chose how she wanted to finish her sentence. "No buts. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to go find my little brothers." She waved at the two kunoichi and walked away, tugging her little daughter's hand. "Come on, Shikako, time to go find Uncle Kankuro and Uncle Gaara!"

Shikamaru nodded at them, then followed his wife and child across the street into the Kazekage building.

Aya sighed and sat down heavily on the bench, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. 'To many. Important people. For one day.'

A/N: Yes, I know I probably shouldn't be trying to juggle two fics, but this one popped into my head and I know exactly how I want it to go (I'm still working on details for 'The Middle') so I had to write it. It'll probably update more often than 'The Middle', though I'm about halfway through another chapter of that. Writer's block's a bitch.