Chapter Two: I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

I tapped the end of my bamboo brush on the table, staring at the man across from me.

"So what does that mean?" I asked impatiently. He had interrupted my kanji practice. If I got this just right, I could have me a new summon.

Michio formed his thin fingers into steeples, peering at me over them with deep olive eyes. I wanted to punch him right now, so bad that my free hand started to twitch underneath the table. I wasn't a kid anymore. He didn't have any right to treat me like one.

Michio preferred his techniques stealthy, quiet, quick, and clean, just like his conversation. I swear his waist was smaller than mine, his shoulders slimmer. His whole body was lithe and catlike, but he was chock-full of lean muscle. He was a Taijutsu user and didn't care for fancy summons or illusions.

His area was in the high-speed jutsus, using nothing to assist him but two specially tailored katanas that were curved into mean looking hooks at the end. When he started moving, you knew you were dead. For one, a Byakugan could hardly keep up with him. I didn't know about a Sharingan, but then again, I had never met an Uchiha. My sister hated them with a passion, and even though they had mostly died out, she forbade me to ever associate myself with one.

"It means that the Kazekage has restricted our team's movements. So," he answered coolly, raising an eyebrow at the incredulous look on my face, "That means we can't go on any missions."

"Because of the murder last night?" I scoffed. "That's stupid. Why our team? It's not like we were involved or anything."

I could describe Midoriyama Michio as many things. He was one of the four people I could trust with my life, with my whole world as I knew it. A lie had never tumbled past those lips of his. His eyes, shadowed by his choppy raven bangs, had never shown the faint proof of a lie.

He was one of the four people I would follow to the ends of the earth, into war, into hell itself, but somehow, I couldn't believe what he said next.

"Because it was your sister's team who was assaulted."

I laughed at him. His expression didn't falter, but he examined me like one would a caged animal.

"There must be a mistake, then," I panted after my laughter had subsided. "There wasn't a murder. So why don't you just cut the crap, Michi-kun, or I'll break your face."

He was used to my threats by now. He just looked at me curiously.

I really did wanna break his face.

"The Matsumoto twins are dead. Your sister is missing and presumed dead."

He really wasn't good at breaking bad news, was he? Weren't you supposed to like, fluff it up or something to make it more bearable?

I had known the Matsumoto twins, Akio and Akira, since I was a baby. They were my sister's best friends. The twins were practically joined at the hip and finished each other's sentences until it was almost annoying. I couldn't quite believe, even from Michio, that they were gone.

I couldn't believe that my older sister, Tsuchiya Atsuko, one of the most elite Jounin in the fire country, was missing, either.

"So why are we restricted? Shouldn't they be looking for her instead of just doing stupid stuff?" I snapped at him.

"They? These are the Kazekage's decisions, and his alone. They're restricting us because--"

The door open slammed against the wall. I saw chips of plaster crumble away from the force.

In crashed Tsubahi Shouta, his caramel colored hair in fluttering disarray around his icy eyes, wearing nothing but the bandages that covered the whole entire right half of his torso, down to the very tips of his fingers, and a pair of baggy black sweatpants.

Shouta was only thirteen, though he had muscles as big as Michio's. He had graduated early from the academy, a prodigy of his class, and was somehow filed into Team 4. He was a good head or two shorter than Michio. His skin was tanned from his frequent training out in the blazing sun of Sunagakure. I eyed the pockets of his pants suspiciously.

"You're not gonna blow us up 'cause you got dumped, are you, Shouta-kun?" I muttered, my mood already soured.

Another thing; Shouta didn't date. Period. The whole 'getting dumped' remark was a big mistake on my part.

He turned his piercing eyes on me, mouth twisted into a silent scowl. I swore I felt the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. His eyebrows furrowed and he frowned at me, stuffing his left hand into his pocket. From it, he plucked an impossibly tiny little ball, which I recognized as one of his favorite toys.

He hurled it at me and I almost flinched, but instead I simply touched the sweet spot on the explosive as it whizzed by my ear. Disarmed, the bomb hit the wall behind me and fell, useless, to the ground.

I knew it was probably a dud anyway, but I couldn't take my chances when the little man was pissed.

Shouta was infamous for his wire-thin temper. The slightest jibe would earn you a nasty two-degree burn for your troubles, and maybe even a trip to a Medical Nin if you were especially lucky.

Michio wasn't intimidated by his loss of control. He eyed him in the same annoyingly wise way that he had to me just a second ago.

"What's up, Shouta?"

"That idiot!" the boy unleashed, mashing his palms to his temples. A vein bulged in his forehead. "No missions? Not even one? 'Cause your stupid sister's team had to go and get killed!"

I bristled and stood up, planting my fists on the table. I opened my mouth to say something, but Michio beat me to it.

"It's not really Kagura's fault, you know. And this is a serious issue, stupid. Don't just come in here and start throwing bombs at her, or the Kazekage'll have your head. Actually, no he won't, 'cause I'll kill you first." He said smoothly, unweaving his fingers and smiling kindly. Shouta opened and closed his mouth mutely, his anger and frustration boiling over in his eyes, but his seemingly inexhaustible source of obscenities had dried up with that simple statement.

All of these threats were hollow, of course; the two, no matter how much they bickered, were inseparable, and they had been for nearly three years. I couldn't describe my relationship with them other than they were like my brothers. Shouta my little brother and Michio my older one.

Shouta was another of the four people I would follow to no end. He was vulgar, ill tempered, loud, violent, and unpredictable, but every once in a while, he'd become a regular kid again, letting me pat his caramel hair and treat him to ramen.

But only once in a really long while.

Since he was a pyro technician and liked huge, attention-drawing lights, Shouta destroyed his victims with flamboyant displays of fireworks and explosives. It was kind of disgusting, actually, if you caught a glimpse of his opponents just before the smoke swallowed them up.

Needless to say, he wasn't only good at blowing stuff up. Shouta was one of the best Taijutsu users I've ever seen, next to only Michio himself. But then again, anyone who used Taijutsu seemed good to me; I couldn't punch someone in the face for my life. Just couldn't.

The room was silent for a good thirty seconds, which was a record for us. A staring contest ensued. Michio won, reducing Shouta to mumbling curses under his breath. I laughed softly, feeling my shoulders relax. Everything was going to be all right. Atsuko was going to come back, and she was going to track down the killers.

She always made things better.

"Tsuchiya-san?" a voice called. I broke from my happy stupor, my ears pricking at my name.

Standing in the doorway, unnoticed probably because of Shouta and Michio's arguments, was the young Kazekage, clad in robes of white and cerulean. He wasn't wearing his hat, his blood read bangs partly covering his sea-green eyes, thickly outlined by black.

I laughed internally. Gaara sounded so weird when he called me by my formal title. I missed it when he didn't have to act so stuffy and boring.

He stared at me vacantly. I never was able, in all the years that I had known him, to tell what he was thinking unless he told me outright. The humor drained from my eyes.

"We have found the weapon that the killer used to dispatch the Matsumoto twins," he said softly, but not without authority. "And it had your sister's fingerprints on it."

OOOOOOOO

A/N: Yay. Another chapter.

Okay, well. I realized, like halfway through this, that Kagura's dialogue isn't so...eloquent. So I had to go back and dumb everything down.

Nothing much to write. Tsuchiya Kagura belongs to me. Blah, getting carpel tunnel. XD

Peace out girly scouts.