Why? Temari would always ask herself. She walked in and took a seat at the bar. She frequented the place enough that she didn't even have to speak to get her drink. She sat, staring idly at the different bottles that filled the shelves. She didn't even acknowledge the bartender as he put her drink in front of her.
She always started with a shot of vodka. Something to set her nerves on fire, something to take off the edge. She sucked in hard through her teeth and before she even put the shot glass down she had a glass of scotch in front of her. Then she heard them talking.
It was hard to get out of Suna's spotlight. She was the daughter of the fourth Kazekage and the sister of the Fifth. And in those three years since her father's death she had gotten quite the reputation. Partly because she never denied anything, but she never confirmed anything either.
"Did you hear? She's back. From Konoha." It was a female voice.
"I heard she got ambushed by three rival ninja on the way back." This time male.
Four actually. She found her senses beginning to dull. Her throat was burning and she hoped the part of her brain that held memories would burn too. She took another drink.
"No survivors." A different female voice. She could feel their eyes on the back of her head.
Did they think she couldn't hear them? She was a shinobi. Of course she could hear, she was trained to hear from a mile away. The burning sensation in her throat went down into her lungs and she could feel them burning too. Why won't it just burn out my insides so I can start new from the ashes?
"She certainly lives up to her name. The Desert's Child. Body hot as a desert day, heart as cold as a desert's night. I heard she's never cried, not even when her father passed away." The male again.
She smirked into her next glass. It's just been a while.
The first female again, "You know, she has no regrets. Look at her, she has the eyes of a killer."
She took another drink. How could she be anything, but regretful? I wasn't there for Gaara when he got picked on. I didn't stand up to father when he tried to kill Gaara. Another drink. I wasn't there for Kankuro all those times father ignored his attempts to be praised. I always pushed mom away when she wanted to spend time with me. Another drink. I wasn't there to teach them love. I wasn't there to save them. Another drink. I'm a terrible daughter and a terrible sister. Empty glass hit the table. She stared at the ice in the first glass. The bartender knew her game. He left the first glass as he put another in front of her. Even in this state her mind wouldn't turn to mush, but her body would tremble.
"Look at her" The second female, her voice got lower. "I bet she's laughing at the memory."
Why do they always think I'm so cold? She was trembling from the sobs her body refused to let out. Her eyes refused to water. Maybe that was the problem. All she wanted to do was cry and her body wouldn't let her. Maybe she cried too much as a child and this was her punishment. When was the last time she cried? When mom died. She would watch Gaara for hours after he was born. Tear stricken eyes watching him. She wouldn't touch him and he wouldn't reach for her. He looked so weak and fragile that she couldn't hate him. All she could do was cry. A month later she wouldn't cry again. She downed her second glass like it was nothing. The burning was more severe this time, but it quickly subsided. Why?
"Can you imagine all the people she's killed?" the first female, her voice quiet too. She heard the chair move back.
Her trembling got worse. She finished her third drink in one quick shot too. Her throat was on fire, but it always died in her lungs. I've lost count. Her eyes went back to the glass of ice and she dipped her fingers in the ice ring pooling around the bottom of it. It was so cold, it was then she realized how hot she was. She stood and left more money than necessary on the counter. The voices behind her froze.
She shot them a look and could tell just by their reactions they were scared. Why? She never meant to become so harsh and jagged. It was just what she had learned to survive. Her gaze was a broken sadness that people mistook for anger. She had the eyes of villain when she wanted to show love. She was where lonely met guilt and there were few things that lessened that pain. The leaf nin she saw every month or so. Her brothers when they teased her. Or even when they let her cater to them, when they let her be the doting sister she wished she could have been.
She walked out. It was well into the night and cold breeze felt good on her skin. Her hair blew into her face, blurring her vision even more. When did I take my hair out? She wondered more out of curiosity than real concern. Her steps were hard and her eyes started at the ground. She couldn't bare to look at the few faces that were still up and walking around her. They didn't dare ask her to move. Her trembling made it harder to walk and her footsteps became heavier.
She felt her body ready to rid itself of all the alcohol she poured into it. Did she remember to eat? Maybe that's why it hurts more this time. She was sweating and she reeked of the scotch. She leaned against the wall. She trembled and slid to the ground. Her body moving in violent shakes and tearless sobs. She looked up to find Gaara's hand. Just leave me. She couldn't get the words out. She refused his hand, but her knees buckled as she tried to stand. Her brother grabbed for her and she pulled away.
"I don't deserve.." She stopped. Deserve what? Your kindness. Your help. Your love. Why don't you hate me? He didn't say a word, just watched her. He walked next to her the rest of the way home. Always ready to put out a hand that she would always refuse. She would not look weak, even in her drunken state; she would not let him help her.
She opened the door and almost fell in. Then Kankuro was there and next to her the second she fell forward. Why? She shoved him away and staggered to her room. They never said a word, but she could feel their eyes on the door. They could hear her moans and she could hear them walking to her door. "Why?" she whispered to herself. She crawled to her bed and and stared at the ceiling. The shadows danced on her walls and she couldn't understand. Her tremors finally stopped, but her throat was still on fire and all it did was make her feel worse.
She knew in the morning her brothers wouldn't ask. They wouldn't even mention it. And as thankful as she was, why wouldn't they? Why would they let her get away with it? Why did she drink so much? Why did Gaara, of all people, have to find her? Why? Why? Why? Temari would always ask herself.