Notes from the Authoress
Yes, well, I wanted to write something sweet with the Sand Sibs, but my fingers moved in a completely different direction than my brain, and this is what we get.
Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue. I don't own Naruto, and neither do you.
Temari's Promises
One Shot
For a seven-year-old, Temari would say she was smart. She was quickly becoming an able kunoichi; she thought out everything important before she did it (it wasn't her fault she had a quick temper when it came to other things); and she was definitely getting better grades than Kankurou (he said it was because she was older, but they had started at the same time despite the age difference). Because of this, Temari had a high opinion of herself. She was known to get into all sorts of trouble since she was sure she could easily get out of it. That assurance made her curious—and careless.
When she heard a clatter from the kitchen, Temari was immediately drawn to it, even though she wasn't allowed in there. She carefully pushed the door open and peeked inside, a bit of a mischievous smile on her face, but the smile soon faded. A redhead four-year-old was standing on tip-toes, reaching up onto the counter towards the cookie jar (Temari knew it was the cookie jar because she rather liked to steal cookies when she thought no one would miss them). Lying around the four-year-old's feet were many cooking utensils and the plastic tin that used to hold them, as he had knocked it off the counter and scattered everything along the floor. There were tears in the child's eyes as he continued to reach for the jar.
Temari, of course, recognized him immediately as her youngest brother, Gaara. Her eyes scanned the room for his "babysitter," or perhaps her uncle, whom had a liking for Gaara. There was no one other than the small boy, whom had just sat down on the floor and started rubbing his eyes to keep himself from bawling at the failed retrieval of the cookies. A year ago, Temari would already be backing away from the door silently so that this boy—this demon—wouldn't notice her. Her heart was still racing fast from anxiety, but she placed a shaky smirk on her face. She knew that she could do anything, and besides, how bad could one demon be?
So she pushed the door open with exceeding confidence (if one didn't notice that her smile was forced and her body was shaking, that is) and didn't even flinch when Gaara instantly looked to her, his eyes widened as if she surprised him. He stared at her for a long while, and it took her several moments to realize she had frozen under his stare, at which time she walked across the room as quickly as she could and reached for the cookie jar. She picked it up with both hands before looking back to her youngest brother, who now had his eyes trained on the cookie jar hopefully.
"…Hi," Temari said carefully.
Gaara tore his eyes away from the cookie jar to look back at her. He smiled, although it seemed strange because of the tears still in his eyes. "Hi," He answered quietly.
Temari shivered a bit. Gaara creeped her out through and through because of his origin, but she didn't back down. "Were you trying to get the cookies?" She asked bravely, her voice not wavering at all. She held the cookie jar in his line of view, and watched curiously as his eyes focused on the jar again.
"Yes," Gaara said, his eyes not moving away from the jar. "Give me one?"
If it had been Kankurou, Temari would have held the cookies hostage. The difference was that this was Gaara. She quickly held the jar out to him, and Gaara snatched it from her. He took the lid off, put one of his small hands in the jar, and returned with a cookie for it. All trace of crying gone, he began nibbling on his cookie contentedly. Temari slowly sunk down onto her knees, still watching him somewhat wearily. He didn't seem as bad as everyone said. Even the traces of sand around him, which hadn't come to life when Gaara was going for the cookie jar or when Temari startled him, didn't seem quite as threatening as when Temari saw it from a distance. "Do you know who I am?" She finally inquired as he reached his hand into the cookie jar for another cookie.
Gaara retrieved his cookie, took a bite of it, and looked at her for a long moment. He swallowed and said, "Uncle Yashamaru says you're my oneesan. Otousan does, too." Temari opened her mouth to answer, but Gaara continued before she could speak. "I didn't believe them, but I guess you are. You aren't like everyone else. You didn't run away from me. Only otousan and Uncle Yashamaru don't run away. Do you want a cookie?"
"Oh—no, thank you." Temari didn't know what to say. Gaara put his full attention back on eating the cookie, and Temari watched him to do so, wondering if a being so utterly adorable could truly be hosting an unstable demon and be the reason she no longer had a mother. They sat together in silence for a long time, the only sound being Gaara hitting the edge of the jar lightly with a cookie or him chewing. Temari would never know how long she was there, simply observing and wondering, but she was struck out of her reverie by the voice of her uncle, calling from a slight distance, "Gaara! Gaara, where are you?"
Gaara apparently heard, too, because he looked to the door of the kitchen and then to his sister, as if asking her what he was supposed to do.
"I have to go," Temari said as she rose to her feet; she had the feeling her uncle wouldn't approve of her being with Gaara. "Goodbye. I'll—I'll see you later."
Gaara's eyes instantly lit up. Temari had the feeling he'd never heard those words before from someone anywhere near his own age. "Do you promise?"
"Promise," Temari answered. She waved to him as she retreated out the kitchen door, and she was barely around the corner when she heard her uncle again, this time lightly scolding Gaara for making a mess of the kitchen (he had only spilled some utensils and was still in possession of the cookie jar, but it was a little mess). Temari smiled to herself before she took off at a run to get to somewhere she was allowed to be. She would keep good on her promise; she would see her little brother later, mostly because she was curious about him—because she wanted to know if he was as bad as they said. Maybe the demon they sealed inside of him had been dispersed and no one knew? Someone like the Gaara she'd just met couldn't possibly be a demon, or at least, she hoped that was the case.
That evening, Temari was surprised when she opened her bedroom door to see Kankurou standing there. They knew each other well, but time together was far and few, and he usually didn't seek her out. "What is it?" She asked haughtily. "I was just getting ready for bed," And she gestured to her hair, which was out of its four ponytails, as if to give proof to her claim.
Kankurou focused on her hair for a short while—he rarely saw Temari with her hair down—but then he remembered why he was there. "I saw you with him today," He said in a low voice, "With Gaara, in the kitchen."
Temari frowned and quickly pulled Kankurou into her room, shutting the door behind him. "You little snoop," She hissed, glaring at him angrily. "You were spying on me!"
"I wasn't," Kankurou protested. "I was going to get something to snack on, and you two were in there. Temari-neechan, what were you doing? He's dangerous! You know what he is, what he's done. What if he attacked you?"
"He's not like that—"
"Yes, he is!" Temari nearly fell over in surprise when Kankurou threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly, burying his face into her shoulder so that his voice came out muffled. "He's not like us. He's a demon. I lost okaasan to him; I don't want to loose you, too, neesan…"
Anger forgotten, Temari gently pet her brother's hair in a comforting sort of way. If it were any other situation, she might have shoved him away, but she understood. Kankurou didn't remember their mother very well; Temari couldn't say that she did either, although she had more than Kankurou, as she'd been three when her mother died. It was a sensitive subject with both of them. "Kankurou, it's okay," She said quietly. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here as long as you need me, not a moment less, do you understand? I'm not going to die. I'm not going to leave you like she did."
"You have to promise me," Kankurou mumbled while tightening his grip around her, feeling that, if he happened to let her go, she would disappear forever. "You have to promise me that you won't go near him anymore. He's a monster. He'll kill you. He will, I know he will!"
Temari caught the hysterical edge in his voice, and her hand fell away from his hair so she could hug him back. "Calm down. It's all right. I promise, Kankurou. I won't go near him anymore." The promise contradicted her promise to her youngest brother, but she could only keep one.
When Temari watched Gaara in all his blood-lusting glory, she couldn't help but wonder if she would have helped him turn out differently. After all, she'd made a promise to see him again, and as easily as the words were said, she'd broken it. At that time, the promise she made to Kankurou was more important to her. She never approached Gaara again. When they were children and he used to come around, she would hide behind Kankurou as a fear shot through her—not a fear of Gaara, but a fear of the promise she'd broken, a fear that he would take revenge on her for breaking it. Kankurou never said a word about it. When they were partnered as a team, Gaara showed no signs of acknowledgment when she was introduced to him, let alone any signs that he remembered and carried ill-will toward the promise.
She realized now that, if she had gone back to see Gaara, maybe he would be a little more human. Maybe he would have realized that he could trust her—and other people, eventually—instead of believing that all he had left in his life was to kill without mercy or regret. Even after what her father and Yashamaru did, there was so much that she, as his older sister, as a voice of reason, could have done for him.
But it was too late now, and she couldn't fix her mistakes. She hoped that one day she would have a chance, but watching him, unlike how it had been when he was a child, she always saw that demon staring through, waiting to be let out for the attack. Maybe one day he would change. Maybe one day someone would keep a promise to her youngest brother, and he would get a real grip on what life should be. Until then, she would watch him and wait for the chance to make up for her own mistakes.
Her conscious mind told her no, she would never make it up to him.
Deep down, however, she knew that he couldn't be that way forever. She knew that someone would change him, and with his change, she would be able to come to terms with him and do her best to repair what damage she had done to their sibling relationship. Sometimes, when she turned her eyes away from Gaara to Kankurou, she realized that Kankurou wanted to do the same thing—that he realized Gaara needed someone as much as everyone else, and that, as Gaara's siblings, they should have been the ones to be there. Then she would grasp that she was likely imaging it, because Kankurou's expression would twist into fear or disgust at whatever Gaara was doing, and he would cast her a glance that said, 'I was right, he would have killed you, Temari-neechan.' Of course, he didn't call her neechan anymore.
End.
Notes from the Authoress
I thought about doing a last bit of after Gaara had his butt beat by Naruto, but I changed my mind. I have another idea swimming around in the back of my head I want to try out. Well, review!
