Sadly, Fumiko had been right about the 'crazy' part.

As soon as they got back from Konoha- with many promises to keep their friends updated on the Kazekage business- Gaara had immediately been swamped by people, paperwork, and adequacy tests, which of course meant that Fumiko was busy talking, helping to fill out forms, and watching him train.

Right now, she was doing a combination of all three.

Fumiko was singing quietly to herself under her breath, kind of watching Gaara as he flipped backwards across the sand to avoid the 'proctor's' attacks. Really, he could have taken the man down already, but he was trying to prove that his sand, though powerful, wasn't his only defense. So instead, he was using a combination of Wind style jutsus, taijutsu, and the occasional sand attack just to keep him on his toes.

To her left, she was being interviewed by somebody named Fukushima Okichi from a newspaper. Surprisingly, the woman really had wanted to interview her and not Gaara, something about the strain of being involved with somebody on the fast track to Kage status.

Fumiko blinked slowly at the question, looking down at the personal response paperwork- which she actually could answer in Gaara's stead- and tried to keep track of the reporter's words. "What?"

"I asked if this whole business with Sabaku no Gaara striving to become Kazekage has put any strain on your relationship with him."

Fumiko looked up at her, pencil freezing just above the paper to answer a question about additional skills/noteworthy attributes, puzzled. "Of course not."

"Ah," Okichi said. "So you are in a relationship with Sabaku no Gaara?"

Fumiko cracked a grin as she realized exactly what she was being asked. Gaara had heard it as well, even in the middle of his spar. Fumiko knew this because he instantly stumbled, almost opening himself to an attack that was thankfully blocked by sand, and his face flushed as he did so, although that might have been considered to be a part of his exertion from battle. "Ne, wait, that's not what I meant. We're friends."

Okichi raised her eyebrows suggestively. "Good friends?"

Fumiko nodded before turning back to her work. "Best friends."

...

"Do you think I waited too long to end that fight?" Gaara asked as they walked back to the tower together. Fumiko limped along, papers bundled in her arms. "I mean, do you think it would have been better to just use my sand? The Kazekage is supposed to hold the title of being strongest without a doubt."

Fumiko considered. "No, I don't think so. I mean, wasn't it included in your mission report about Matsuri that you had been swamped with water and disabled?"

Gaara blinked. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that."

"That's probably why the Heads sent that guy to test you, then," Fumiko said with a smile. "To see if you would be adequate to protect the village in the event that you couldn't use your sand. But at the same time, it's good that you used your sand for some things, because that shows how strong that is. Besides, that proctor looked pretty freaked about your ultimate defense. And he must have known you were holding back."

"Huh," he said, then spied the papers in her arms. "Hey wait, wasn't I supposed to fill those out?"

Fumiko shrugged. "You can look over my answers if you want, but I'm pretty sure I answered them right. After all," she said, bumping his shoulder with hers and laughing. "I usually know how your head works."

"Usually," he allowed with a small smile.

"So how about that reporter, huh?" Fumiko said. "I was told it would be mostly about your running for kazekage, but it turned out to be more of a gossip angle than anything else, don't you think?"

Gaara flushed. "You didn't even blink."

"Why should I?"

"Well, because, um..." Gaara was red. "Because, well... I don't know. Because."

"Because why?" Fumiko asked curiously.

"Oh look, there's the tower," Gaara said instead of answering her question, looking away and pointing forward. Fumiko blinked at the sudden change of subject, but looked anyway at the towering building slowly getting bigger and bigger as they got closer. "Lots and lots of paperwork to do."

...

"How did you do that?" Mai demanded, storming into her room.

Fumiko looked up from her painting, blinking at her sister over the canvas resting on her easel. It was a half-finished full-detail portrait of somebody that had asked her to do it for them, someone she had never actually met but had mailed her the request from the land of iron along with a picture of herself and an... offer... of money. Apparently, she had met Fumiko's friend the Rich Art Collector.

"Do what?"

"Get voted onto civilian council!" Mai scowled. "Isn't that, like, against the rules or something?"

Fumiko dropped her paintbrush, splattering black onto the floor right next to the yellow, pink, and green paint stains. "Do what?"

"I just heard it from Gaara. He thought you would have been notified already. So you didn't even apply? That doesn't even make sense!"

Fumiko's lips twitched into a smile. "No, I didn't. But somebody must have. Sugar, that's so cool! I didn't even think about joining civilian council!"

It had been a little over a month since they had returned to Suna. Kankuro was on a mission, Temari was still working part-time at the Academy, and Gaara was in his room at the Tower, smothered with a hundred and five little things to do that he refused to let her help him with at least for the day. Anyway, Fumiko was supposed to be working her shift at the hospital, but they had mysteriously given her an almost complete, paid month long vacation time riddled with a smattering of days she had to come in.

Huh, she thought. Guess it's not much of a mystery why anymore.

"I bet everybody voted for you," Mai sniffed. "Everybody loves you all of a sudden."

"Is something wrong?" Fumiko stepped out around the easel to stand in front of her sister. "I thought that was a good thing. Now we have one more definite vote in Gaara's favor."

"It is a good thing." Mai crossed her arms. "But I applied too."

"For what? As a Genin?" Fumiko giggled a little bit. "But, you haven't graduated from the Academy yet."

"And you didn't even apply!"

"I wonder who did," Fumiko mused. "I mean, someone must have put my name in. That's kinda weird, actually. Isn't there a bunch of paperwork involved?"

Mai raised her arms in a slow, deliberate shrug. Thin, wiry muscles were set into her biceps now, the result of constantly pounding away at her punching bags, swinging around her swords, and training by herself or occasionally with Kankuro or Gaara. Her black hair had gotten a little longer; brushing an inch or two past her shoulders. Her lips had a slash scar across them, the mark left from her fight with Seimei.

"Whatever. I'm gonna go hack apart dummies."

"Okay. Just make sure to replace them," she called to her sister's already retreating back, then shrugged and went back to her painting, picking up her brush and accidentally smearing ithe color across her fingers.

Right above the blue, purple, and brown paint stains on her palm.

...

Five days off, two one-sided arguments about technicalities, and one last wish good luck to Gaara later, Fumiko was sitting in a stuffy, wood-paneled room with twenty-five others, seated around one of the biggest round metal tables Fumiko had ever seen. There were stacks of papers, ballots, that they couldn't fill out until having a day-long discussion of it's contents.

Yes or no.

Two of the people there were actually Fumiko's workmates. She recognized a few of the children present, along with one former bully that sat across from her and refused to meet her eyes. Five or six of them she vaguely recognized from petitioning around the village. Aside from that, however, they were complete strangers, most of them arguing about things they didn't know about.

"He's killed people before."

"Almost every attack was aggravated."

"How do we know we can trust him?"

"He's too young to be Kazekage. He's barely fourteen, for crying out loud!"

"But he is powerful..."

"Let's not forget there's a demon inside him."

"He helped me inside during a storm once."

Fumiko tried to open her mouth a few times but was always cut off. "Excuse me-"

"My dad's a ninja, and he told me to vote no."

"Well, my husband is a shinobi as well, and told me that the young man is very trustworthy under pressure. I think we should all vote yes. I mean, there hasn't been an actual attack in years!"

"Not yet, anyway."

"Excuse me-"

"He's only a Genin. How can a genin be Kazekage? That's never happened before, for any of the Kages! Even I know that!"

"I don't know much about ninja ranking and all of that, but I would say that Gaara kid is quite a bit stronger than any of the Jonin in this village. I don't see why that matters."

"I think yes."

"I think no."

"Of course."

"I'm not so sure."

"What about what the children say? That he's very nice, just quiet?"

"Children are children. They can't be expected to actually judge a person's character correctly."

"Hey!" the children chorused in protest.

"I met him once, in the hospital. He had chakra exhaustion from too many missions after that whole mess with Konoha, I think."

"Excuse me!" Fumiko finally said loudly. Most of the heads swiveled her way, although a few people continued to bicker. "Um, thanks. You know, I can answer any questions you have. I don't think there's anything wrong with Gaara being Kazekage."

"Of course not! You're his friend."

Fumiko smiled. "That just means he isn't mean!"

"Well, what about his age? Don't you think fourteen is a little young to run a village?"

"You don't know this, but ninja tend to have their hands in a lot of things. Not to mention that the fourth Kazekage was Gaara's dad, so he picked up some stuff there too. Gaara knows this village inside out and backwards. And if he's young when he starts, that means he'll be a competent Kazekage longer than most and have even more time to adjust."

"What about the people he killed?"

Fumiko chewed on her lip thoughtfully for a moment before answering. "Most of them were actually assassins sent by the Kazekage, but I fully admit the rest were villagers. Usually though, they started a fight Gaara was forced to finish."

"You mean by the demon!"

"Why would the fourth try to assassinate his own son!?"

"Even his best friends admits to it!"

"Uh, Uh," she stuttered slightly as her brain caught up. "Shukaku is well under control now, I promise. He's more capable of restricting it now. And, well, because you were all terrified of him. He decided because of those few villagers Gaara killed that Gaara was unstable and needed to be eliminated for the village's sake."

They buzzed amongst themselves for a second. Fumiko seized the opportunity.

"And Gaara is the most capable Kazekage you'll find. He's definitely the strongest in Wind country, and he's smart, too, enough to run a village at least. I know that if you give him a chance, Gaara will surprise you."

They were silent for a moment.

"Uh... Shukaku," said her old bully, the one who had always stolen her things and pushed her down at the civilian school, said timidly. "Is Shukaku evil?"

"I don't know," Fumiko admitted. "I don't like the idea of calling anything evil, but Shukaku is definitely not nice. I saw him in action during the invasion of Konoha, and it wasn't fun, I'll tell you that."

"And Gaara. Is he evil?"

Fumiko didn't flinch, but her fingers twisted together on the table. "What? No."

"So- so all those times he tripped us and hit us and threatened us-"

"If you didn't notice, all of those things happened only the times after he figured out you'd been hurting me." Fumiko pointed out, not angrily but truthfully. Gaara had always disappeared for hours at a time after spotting bruises, frantic searches for homework and lunchboxes, or sometimes the occasional weirdly cut, choppy hair that was impossible to hide. It didn't really take a genius to figure out where he kept disappearing to.

There were also the few times he had been present without the boys at her school knowing, and that had never ended well.

The boy shrunk under the collective stares. "... Right... I vote..." he hesitated. "I vote yes."

...

Fumiko cheerfully checked off yes. She didn't know what everyone else was putting down, but considering how they had all been nodding along to her words by the end of the day, she was feeling pretty confident that the civilian side of the voting was cinched. Afterward she would have to find Baki, who'd of course been voted as a Shinobi council member, and see how things had gone on his end.

Then she yawned, standing up and putting her ballot-with-no-name-but-a-few-random-doodles into the box sitting on a stool-stand thing by the door and exiting the room.

Instead of going home or going up to Gaara's room in the tower, she headed into the Archive Library, which was still at the fourth, third, and second to top floors of the Tower. Gaara had taken to hanging out there when he didn't have other things to do, cramming like a schoolboy class clown that had realized an exam was the next day, studying the history and workings of Suna.

He actually wasn't supposed to have clearance to half of what he read, being a Genin, but being the son of a former Kazekage granted access at least a level higher. Chuunin tended to need to know a bit more about how their systems worked, after all.

The chuunin librarian didn't even blink at her as she passed into the chuunin floor of the library.

"Hi, Sui. Is Gaara here?"

"Hey, sweetie. Yes, I think he's researching ninja relations and T&I."

"Thanks."

"No problem. I hope he makes it through. That poor boy's been working his ass off- I mean, uh, working his butt off."

Fumiko smiled. "It's okay, Sui. Mai's my little sister, remember?"

Sui sort of grimaced, waving her forward. "Right, right. Go ahead on in."

Stepping in, Fumiko took in the smell of wood, sand, and musty books and scrolls. Legend had it there were books in the higher levels written before the creation of the Hidden Sand village, something she wanted to look into when Gaara became Kazekage.

"Gaara," she called, voice echoing through the mostly-empty-save-for-that-one-chuunin-in-the-corner-shushing-her bookshelves. "Hey, Gaara."

"I'm over here, Fumiko," Gaara's voice materialized from somewhere in the far wing in the Archive floor.

Fumiko trotted around for a few seconds, following the sound of his voice, and finally peeked around a bookself to see a tight little dead-end of shelves and books, Gaara sitting with his back against one, surrounded by stacks of knee-high books and folded scrolls, scanning through a book.

Fumiko sort of skipped, sort of dragged herself over, peering down at his book, which he promptly snapped shut before she could read a single word. "What are you reading about?"

"T&I. You don't need to read any of it."

"Okay."

His slightly tensed shoulders relaxed when he realized she wasn't going to fight him about it. Granted, Fumiko was usually much more curious than that, but today she was just stiff from that eight hour meeting and wanted to hang out. She didn't really know what T&I was- she'd never heard of it- but she pushed that aside, scooted a pile of scrolls away, and plopped down on the floor beside her friend.

"So how did the meeting go?"

"Pretty good, I think," she answered, stretching her arms above her head and smiling when her shoulders popped. "I changed a couple of minds. Hey, remember that kid from my school, Shunichi?"

Gaara's eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes. He was on council?"

"Yep. He actually apologized and voted for it."

"Did he?" Gaara frowned. "I still don't like him."

Fumiko laid her head on his shoulder, sort of slumping slightly. "Hmm," she said. "Still mad, huh?"

"Of course I'm still mad." Gaara said with so much disbelief that he almost sounded offended. "He pinned you against a desk and cut your hair with safety scissors!"

Fumiko shrugged with one shoulder, the other pressed against Gaara's arm. "He's probably better now. Besides, the meeting went well, and hair isn't that big of a deal. I'm pretty sure you're set with the villager side of things."

"There you go again, changing the subject," Gaara sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and putting his book aside. But despite his words, he wound an arm around her shoulder. "You need to learn to take offense at some things."

"If I was any good at taking offense, we wouldn't be friends."

"Yes, well, Shunichi doesn't have psychological damage and a demon to explain his actions. He was just malicious."

"Mmm," Fumiko hummed, reaching out for a book. Gaara took his hand off her shoulder and reached around her to take hold of her wrist, steering it away.

"No."

"Aww. Why not?"

"Because you're not allowed."

"You're no fun."

"Neither is T&I. Trust me. It's bitter."

"What does that stand for, anyway? T&I." Fumiko pushed her face up to blink at him. Gaara's face pinched a little.

"No comment."

"If it's so bad, why are you reading it?"

Gaara sighed, head banging back into the bookshelf. Well, the sand jumped up and stopped it from banging against the leather-bound books, but he came close enough, eyes staring up at the ceiling like why me? "Because there are some things Kage have to know that aren't all that great, okay?"

"Mngh."

"Don't read it."

"But Gaara~"

"Please."

She puffed out a breath, sort of a laugh. "Oh, fine."

...

Fumiko fidgeted in place. Then sat down on the floor. Then stood back up and leaned casually against the wall.

Then she started tapping her fingernails against it.

"Fumiko, calm down," Gaara sighed, but he looked pretty tense himself.

With good reason. Tomorrow the results of the voting would be revealed- well, today, since it was four in the morning and they were having a stayover at his house- and the Heads had been holding their meeting all night.

According to Baki, the shinobi voting had gone over mostly well. He didn't have as many answers she would have had, Baki had admitted, and would have liked her to be there, but it had been at least a little more than half in Gaara's favor. If that was the case, then they had two-thirds vote, but still... Gaara was nervous.

Fumiko, however, was excited.

"I just know you're gonna be Kazekage in a few hours," she said with a face-splitting grin. "Oh, I just can't stand it!"

"I could wait." Gaara said. He was starting to look a little green after two days of fretting and worst-case-scenario-ing. Even though Gaara had never gotten sick before, he almost looked like he was going to throw up. Fumiko patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"It's okay, Gaara."

"How are you so certain all the time?" he muttered. "I'd like to learn how to do it."

"Some things you just know, Gaara," Fumiko said, then flopped onto the bed. Dominating a large bit of Gaara's headboard was a recently painted Wind symbol, born of whirling thoughts and itchy fingers. Gaara didn't really seem to mind. "Like, I know that you're gonna be Kazekage, and I also know that Mai is playing ninja at their door and would have raised an unholy fit by now if things weren't going your way."

"Mai's doing what?" Gaara looked horrified.

"Ne, you taught her. You know she won't get caught."

"But- But-"

"She's using transformation to be a plant."

Gaara apparently couldn't think of anything to say to that and fell silent. But, Fumiko noticed, he looked just a little calmer now.

...

"Oh Kami," Gaara whispered from the corner of his mouth. "I'm going to be sick."

"Just breathe." Fumiko whispered back.

"But I-"

"Take a damn breath, Gaara," Mai said. "You're golden, trust me."

They were all on what wasn't quite a stage, more of a raised platform built a few days before the announcement. Temari and Kankuro were there as well, only they had their lips pursed, silent. Fumiko wasn't sure why they were all allowed up here, but she certainly wasn't complaining.

"Ahem." the Elder cleared his throat, silencing the restless crowd. Fumiko wasn't sure why everyone would be called to a meeting that, theoretically, had a chance of denying the position. What would they all do then? Just go home? "Thank you all for waiting."

"Mai, did you hear them say yes, certainly?" Gaara asked almost faintly, although physically he looked just as collected and stoic as he always did when faced with other people, arms crossed and face set calmly.

"No, but I-"

"You didn't?"

Mai didn't scowl, just kept the neutral expression on her face. "No, but I heard enough before they started to get up and I had to hightail it out of there before I got arrested and sent to T&I, dammit, so chill."

Fumiko almost wanted to ask again what T&I was, but she got the feeling Mai wouldn't tell her either.

Fumiko tuned back in at exactly the best time.

"-and as a result of voting, it has been determined that by a large margin, Gaara of Sunagakure has been elected the Fifth Kazekage of Suna, charged with protecting the village and it's people!"

There was a loud, almost beautifully violent cheer from the entirety of Suna's population.

Fumiko's smile stretched so wide she thought it might break. Her heart pounded, her fingers twitched, and it took all of her control not to jump up and down screaming. But she did take Gaara's hand- Gaara who was staring wide-eyed at the crowd- and squeezed it. She whispered, "I told you," but doubted it could be heard over the roar of the crowd.

Somehow, Gaara got word of something, probably from a ninja.

"Speech?" he said.

"You didn't plan for that, did you?" Fumiko guessed.

"No, but I suppose I'll just have to follow your lead on this one."

"Follow- my lead?"

"I'm going to wing it," he said carefully as the Elder turned to look at him. "You know... from the heart."

"I'm gonna wing it. Y'know, from the heart."

Oh my sugar, she thought.

"I'll keep smiling at you," Fumiko promised.

Gaara closed his eyes briefly. "I would like that."

Then he was pulled away, hand slipping from hers, to the front, and the cheering became almost deafening; and Gaara put his shoulders back and looked out at the crowd and opened his mouth and talked.

And as he did, Fumiko smiled.

...

Everyone was crowing and yelling and basically freaking out.

There was food all over the place, having already been made by Fumiko in foresight of such an event, on the tables and the counters and in some places, on the floor. Streamers and balloons were thrown haphazardly around the house, including one stray red balloon in the bathroom tied to the showerhead with chakra with a devil face drawn on it in permanent marker- Gaara was pretty sure he knew whose fault that was, but the Tanto user was already talking with a few Jonin.

But it was a party.

The Mitsuwas always threw good parties.

Their house was filled to the brim with ninja Gaara knew and civilians Fumiko worked with and family members of both of them. Fumiko was floating around somewhere with drinks, mingling and chatting with her fellows from the hospital. Gaara was even sure he saw Mrs. Mitsuwa taking money from one or two of them with an almost smug look on her face, but he might have been wrong.

He still couldn't believe it. Kazekage.

Gaara smiled.

"Hey," someone said beside him, an unknown voice he didn't recognize. Gaara turned around with a start, not quite jostling few people out of the way as he tried not to spill his soda. There was a girl looking up at him with tanned skin and blond hair and round blue eyes.

"Hello," he greeted politely. "... Do I know you?"

"Um... no..." The girl fidgeted, then smiled shyly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and giggling slightly. "My name is Mitsuko."

"Gaara," he said, nodding at her.

"I know."

There was an awkward silence. Well, awkward for him; Mitsuko just kept smiling and giggling. Gaara wasn't quite sure what to do, or what this girl wanted, or why she was getting so close. He backed up slightly.

"Uh..."

"Back off." A familiar voice growled. Mai. "He's not interested."

"Interested?" Gaara said with wide eyes. "... Oh."

"How would you know?" Mitsuko pouted. "You're not his girlfriend."

Mai snorted so loudly that Gaara almost felt offended. "Yeah, right. He doesn't have one."

"Yes, well..." Gaara backed up a little more, nearly bumping into a fellow ninja that gave him a weird look before moving on. "I'm going to find Fumiko now..."

"Aw, why can't you stay a while?" Mitsuko purred, trying to step closer. Mai cut her off, hands on her hips.

"Try it. I'll knock your perfect white teeth in." Mai sniffed. "Go ahead, Gaara. I'll handle this."

Gaara promptly fled, skittering away like Fumiko did from thunder sounds.

He slipped through the hum of people, lifting his drink above heads and below elbows and running into the same situation twice more, only without Mai's help. He always politely excused himself- I have to go to the bathroom. No, you can't come with me.

It was confusing. And gross.

Finally he found her, standing with a group of med-nin and talking about things he didn't understand, throwing around big words like Occipital hematoma, intracerebral, and arteriovenous angioma. He pulled her aside, apologizing and nodding to the people staring at him.

The only room not filled with people was the bathroom, so you couldn't call Gaara a liar when he locked the door behind him and sighed.

"Something wrong?" Fumiko said curiously, voice not quite shot with amusement. She did that thing where she tilted her head at him and smiled that made it impossible to believe she could punch you hard enough to make you cough up blood.

Yeah, he'd watched a few of her training sessions with the dummies, too.

"Girls are flirting with me," he said urgently. The balloon floated into his face ad he batted it's fanged face away.

"Girls are... what?"

"Flirting with me," he repeated. "And being really... uncensored about it."

"Oh." Another smile danced across her lips. "And so now we're hiding in the bathroom?"

Yes, he knew how ridiculous it sounded, but he didn't care. Those girls were scary, damn it, and not in the bad-guy-he-could-kill-in-a-second kind of way. That kind of scary he could deal with. He didn't answer, and she seemed to pick up on his discomfort.

"Come on," she said, taking one of his hands and reaching to unlock the door. "I'll take care of it."

"How?"

"Watch," she said, and took his elbow in both hands as they rejoined the party. "I learned this from Ino."

Gaara didn't quite know what 'this' was, but it seemed to work well enough. They walked through the party, saying hello to various people, eating, and drinking the last of the soda until slowly people began to trickle out of the house. No girls approached, although Gaara caught many staring.

"Why are they doing that?" he had whispered once. Fumiko shrugged.

"Ino said something about being hot. Also probably because you're the Kazekage now."

"That's really shallow. And weird. And what does Ino talk to you about when I'm not there, anyway?"

Fumiko didn't have to answer that question, because they got called over again to another group of people congratulating Gaara. It was strange, all these people smiling at him and touching him and laughing like he was an old friend, patting him on the shoulder or smacking his back or shaking his free hand. He wasn't so sure if he would ever get used to it.

...

Finally, everyone was gone, Mai was passed out on the couch and her breath smelled suspiciously like sake- something her mother was not happy about at all- and Gaara felt about tired enough to fall asleep himself. Fumiko's mother shooed them away to Fumiko's room, which was scattered with random things like cups and a few of her paints had been spilled onto the ground and smeared onto blank canvases.

Fumiko just shrugged wearily. "Oh well. I made enough on that portrait to replace it all."

They both sprawled out on her bed, exhausted.

"I'm tired," Gaara said dumbly. "I don't think I can meditate."

"Then go to sleep."

"But I..."

"I'll-" Fumiko yawned. "Watch over you. Go to sleep, Gaara. I won't let it get to deep."

"You look ready to pass out too."

"Go to sleep, Gaara."

And, surprisingly, he did.

...

Gaara woke to the sound of Mai stumbling into Fumiko's room, swearing loudly and demanding that Fumiko heal her hangover.

"Why are you already complaining about hangovers like Kankuro?" Gaara groaned as he came to, blinking out of an almost completely dreamless sleep with a little surprise. His chest was weirdly warm, but it wasn't unpleasant, so his sleep-fogged brain didn't really care. "You're eleven."

"So?" Mai muttered sulkily. "Why are you already sleeping with girls? You're only fourteen."

This was sufficient to jolt him awake. "What?"

"Look at yourself, dumbass."

"Are you still drunk?" Gaara grumbled, but looked down. And nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Fumiko curled up on top of him like a cat, somehow impossibly nothing on her body touching the bed except for one of her arms, fast asleep. Her cloak was on the ground somewhere. "Damn it!" he slipped, startled.

"Ha," Mai snarked, pointing, then winced. "Ow. Now wake her up."

"I don't think I can." he said uncomfortably, voice muffled. "You know that."

"Well, what am I supposed to do? Ow." she glared at him through the slits between her fingers, holding her head. "Ask my mom to do it?"

"She already knows you got drunk last night."

"Shit! How?"

"You smelled like alcohol."

Mai took a deep breath, then exhaled. "You said Kankuro does this?"

"Sometimes, yeah." Gaara answered. This conversation was getting weirder and weirder.

"Good. I'm gonna go find Kankuro then."

And she left, shunshin swirling a few stray pieces of paper with half finished drawings into the air, leaving the door wide open and light streaming into the room. For a second, Gaara was left alone staring at the girl lying on him, totally spooked.

Then he got ahold of himself and carefully moved her onto the bed before getting up, rubbing at his eyes.

...

"Well... you look official."

Gaara raised his arms. He was clothed from head to toe in mostly white, the standard Kazekage uniform, which actually didn't look so bad on him at all. He looked ridiculously pleased under his wide brimmed hat, smile twitching across his face, eyes proud.

"I still can't believe it."

"Well you better soon." she gave a lopsided smile. "Because in two days I start back up at the hospital, and you have a fair bit of paperwork to catch up on, and I won't be here to organize things."

They were standing inn the fourth Kazekage's office. It made Fumiko glad she had cleaned it that one day she was bored, because if not, it would smell like rotted steak. And be dirty. Now the sun was streaming through the windows and everything was just a little dusty again... but mostly clean.

"I don't even care."

...

Over the next few weeks, Fumiko worked almost full time at the hospital, trying to get used to having a work routine again. Some people thought it was weird that she was fourteen and had a steady job at the hospital, but others would agree that her skills unrelated to jutsu were invaluable since she couldn't lose chakra and have to retire halfway through the day.

But Gaara was absolutely destroyed with paperwork the Fourth hadn't been able to do, and usually Fumiko had to go to the Tower at ungodly hours in the morning in between sleeping and working and painting to make sure he ate, wasn't twitching or staring at walls, and that every once in a while he took a watched-over nap. Sometimes he had nightmares, sometimes he didn't.

"You know," she had told him once, "you're even more perfectly qualified for this job than I thought!"

His bleary, semi-confused response was, "Mm. Why's that?"

"Because you can't sleep."

She helped with paperwork, but there was a lot she didn't quite understand and a few things he wouldn't let her look at, so she usually stuck to feeding him and keeping his office organized and keeping the top drawer of Gaara's desk well stocked with aspirin. She also brought in a little cactus-plant in a pot so he didn't go crazy from staring at nothing but office supplies.

Fumiko sent letters to the friends in Konoha. Gaara had panicked a little at the size of the stack of papers in her arms until he realized that it wasn't more work the assistant outside had given to her for him, but letters from friendly, human people, and taken a short break to read through and answer them.

It got better. The flow of paperwork slowed slightly, and Gaara got better at handling the workload. He was still gone most of the time, going home at about two or three in the morning only to leave again at five or six. Fumiko had a crazy schedule as well, getting off work at about eleven or twelve at night, going up to the tower to make sure her friend was stable, then either went home or crashed in his room depending on how tired she was, only to wake up at eight or nine to get to work.

When she wasn't sleeping during her free time, she was painting.

...

"I take it back," Gaara groaned, pinching his nose almost two month after his inauguration. "I take everything back."

Fumiko placed a plate of Soba noodles on his papers, pot really caring if she spilled any on them or not. "Eat. You'll feel better in the morning. Tomorrow's your day of, remember?"

"Is it?" Gaara blinked owlishly. "I thought that was next week."

...

Walking down the street was a completely different experience than it had once been.

People smiled, people waved, little kids snuck closer to ask for autographs. Ms. Tatsuno Kaiya at the hospital spoke to her with ease now, as did the part-time cashier at the clothes store. Mai ran up to them once or time, freaking out because nobody was bothering her anymore and boys were asking her out because apparently, she was cute. The clothes store let her buy just one shoe, and for once the vendors didn't mind her window-shopping.

Fumiko called in sick to work. They spent his day off doing normal, blissfully old things, like swinging and walking and making sand castles and hanging out in her room while she painted. They also bought ice cream- or, tried to, the man had looked absolutely starstruck and refused to let them pay for the bowls- and settled on Suna's walls to eat the already melting treats.

Fumiko tilted her head back as she drank the last of her ice cream, still keeping an eye on the deepening red-orange colors of the sunset.

"This was a good day." Gaara said quietly.

"Yep," she agreed.

"Work is getting easier."

"It looks like it." Fumiko said, grin playing across her lips. "If they gave you the day off, it probably means you caught up with all the stuff you got buried under initially that piled up while there was no Kazekage to deal with it. Weird that nobody even tried, like chuunin or something. But, when you go back, you should have like two-thirds what you did before."

"It doesn't sound like much of a difference," Gaara said with a small, twitching smile that seemed exasperated and desperate more than happy. "But I dealt with it all so I know that two-thirds would be heaven right about now."

"At least you get free ice cream."

...

...

Aw yeah, I'm a writing machine! Here's chapter two!

I didn't do the speech because my stupid brain couldn't think of it. So start it off with PEOPLE OF SUNA! and fill it in with the most epic, meaningful words you possibly can, and that was his speech. Yes.

Lately I've not been having any trouble with length. It's kind of strange. I always go past 5,000. I mean, that's my goal, but usually I struggle with it just a little bit.. but I guess not.

By the way... I love you guys. All night my computer was pinging, getting email alert after email alert, followers, favoriters, reviews. I ended up with 29 favorites, 40 followers, and nine reviews! Bing, bing, bing, bing, bing-

Me: HOLY FUDGING- JUST SHUT UP! *throws a pillow at the computer*

But seriously, I appreciated it in the morning. And thanks to 534667lc for being the first reviewer! Things happen in this story that I'm really excited to write, and some parts that I was excited about a long time ago and thus already have written. But I won't be able to post another chapter until probably either Thursday, or the weekend after this next one coming up.