Once Kuma-chan was properly assembled inside the closet, hidden quite well, as Gaara proposed, underneath a blanket and some clothes while placed properly on a bean bag chair, he rolled it shut, leaving the much-loved bear to itself. He almost smiled, knowing full well that Kankurou wouldn't dare mess with him again, and even if he did, he would have to do some searching to uncover the worn-out stuffed animal. He strolled over to the window that contained no glass like most windows in Suna. The afternoon sun was setting, flashing an orange and red blaze over the bumpy horizon. The house was located close by his workplace, so it was never a hassle to come back and forth. The sunset painted the buildings gold under the darkening sky, as if being touched by angels. Sometimes, Suna could really screw Konoha over in brilliance. It too could be a beautiful jewel of a country.

Another human standing next to him gave him a bit of a shock. He should have been able to tell Temari had come in if it had not been for the striking beauty of the waning day outside his window. She sighed without expression, leaning against the bottom frame and peering out towards the fascinating view. He liked it that his siblings would get closer to him now that they respected him more and he no longer refused bonds that tied people together. It felt good to be treated as a person instead of a monster or be loved for more than a precarious tool. His focus went towards his sister, her hair also catching some of the dying sunlight, giving the blond some brilliant sheen. He wondered how sunset gold looked in maroon hair.

"Kankurou was talking to something else again," Temari started.

Gaara shut his eyes. My brother is hopeless… that is the most stupid way to bring attention to oneself. "He did, did he? Idiot."

"I think it was something about a pervert. He told the vase not to talk to me in such a way ever again. It really makes me wonder what the hell he's thinking."

"If he does it one more time, tell him he won't be getting any missions any time soon. He will also be unable to leave his country for a while." Harsh, but acceptable. He was his brother, after all, and he had all rights to punish him in such ways. He did have more political power than him, anyway. "I may even place him under house arrest for a while. He insists he's insane. Best not to let a mentally unstable person wander around, right?" A smug smile played on his lips without his intention. Temari noticed the smile, a rare action for Gaara to do.

"Yeah." She left the window and stepped back a bit. The remaining sunbeams glowed in Gaara's maroon hair, making them look blood red and very lively.

Meanwhile, about an hour later, Kankurou ventured around the house listening for voices. They could be anywhere… can't they? I mean, that perverted vase talked to me out of the blue, so… maybe a ceiling lamp or the fridge will say something. Maybe the phone or the TV will talk! Aaaah, the TV IS talking! Oh, wait… forget those two then. They're supposed to talk to you. He slunk close to the kitchen, pressed up against a wall, watching his surroundings cautiously. Nobody should catch him doing something so… suspicious. If Temari did, she'd slap him. If Gaara did… well, he didn't know what the Kazekage would do about this. He wouldn't KILL him like he would three years ago… would he? He'd rather not think about that. Peering in behind the doorway leading to the kitchen, he spotted Gaara munching on a nighttime snack of cookies and milk, a recent addiction of the Kazekage. He could just stroll in casually as if nothing were suspicious, couldn't he? So that was what Kankurou did.

When Gaara caught movement in the same room, his eyes shifted in the direction of the footsteps. He gave his older brother a funny look, which was very mild and almost undetectable, but Kankurou, having lived with the jinchuuriki for years, was accustomed to his minor facial expressions, and knew how to dig up each subtle meaning. Already he felt on edge. Gaara's eyes unhooked from the puppeteer as he picked up another cookie and took a big bite from it, afterwards washing it down with his glass of milk. He loved chocolate chip cookies.

Meanwhile, Kankurou pretended to search for something in the fridge. Maybe one of the food items would whisper something? Since Gaara didn't seem to mind him, he felt a little better. Things only got worse as he heard a tiny voice scream, "Help me!" His eyes scanned the fridge for the source of the noise. When it cried out for help once again, he shut the fridge in slight panic. Okay, so something is in dire need of aid. Where is it? The cupboards? No, they were definitely all in tact. The garbage can? Nah… unless it needed to be taken out because it smelled horrible. The table? No… wait. What was ON the table? He swallowed a lump in his throat. No… the damn cookies. The damn cookies SABAKU NO GAARA was eating. He'd be screaming for help too if he were one of those cookies.

He made his way towards the dining area, connected to the kitchen. How could he look casual? Already he could tell his little brother was wary of his presence. And how would he snatch a cookie from him? He could only imagine the reaction. "Please… mister! Help me!" The poor lump of baked dough! He sat directly next to Gaara, resting his elbow on the surface of the table and giving the vase a nasty side glare as it reminded him of how badly it wanted to do his sister. Gaara merely glanced at his brother, then grabbed another cookie and bit its head off. Wait… head? Cookies had no heads. He was becoming delusional too. He swallowed hard once again. "H-hey, Gaara," he acknowledged, managing a weak smile. Gaara once again moved his aqua eyes up to meet those of Kankurou. "…What?" he asked, disliking the disruption of his cookie ceremony.

"Well… Temari asked me to get you. She wants to see you for something," he lied. Yes. Perfect strategy. He could make Gaara leave for a short while. When he comes back in question, he will wonder where Kankurou went off to. If he did look for him, he will be hiding with the cookie! Besides, how important was one little cookie, anyway? He could always get more.

Gaara chewed on his cookie a bit more. "No," he declined with his mouth full. "If it's so important, bring her to me." Shit. That plan was foiled instantly.

"Oh… probably not important, then." He paused for a moment, thinking up another thing to say. "…Can I have a cookie?" A futile attempt, but it was worth a try.

"No." A simple, thoughtless response.

"They're not your cookies, you know."

"Then why don't you get some more if you really want one?" He bit a chunk off his current cookie after dipping it in milk. "Honestly, Kankurou."

Kankurou clenched his hidden fist. Damn, this wasn't going so well. And at any rate, of the four remaining cookies, his was sure to be chosen next. He watched as he gulped down the remains of the cookie he had been nibbling on this whole conversation. He reached for another one. "HELP! HE'S GOT ME!" Panic rushed through Kankurou's blood. He had to save the innocent soul from the terror of Gaara's innards! It just didn't seem fair; he had no chance to escape otherwise without moveable limbs! With some hesitation, he snatched the cookie from Gaara's fingers just as they were about to hit the rim of the glass and bolted off his chair.

A normal person would have just stared in disbelief and let it go, perhaps with some yelling involved. But Gaara was no ordinary human being. He shot a glare made of ice, stood abruptly, and chucked his chair at his brother's head. It hit him just as expected. Nobody should mess with the Kazekage, especially when he was enjoying his nighttime milk and cookies. When Kankurou hit the floor, he finished it off with approaching the defeated puppeteer, glass of milk in hand. He poured it on top of his hair, not forgetting to let some slide down his neck. The cookie was in crumbles. He shrugged and went off to get another.

Kankurou's rescue mission had failed horribly. He cringed at the smell of defeat, the crumbled cookie, and the cold, liquid substance sticking to his hair and cascading down his neck and into his clothes. "You look pathetic," he heard Gaara remark as he retrieved his chair. "Get up." He made his way back to the table, sitting back down with a fresh glass of milk and more cookies.

Kankurou's head tilted to the side as he gazed at the deceased cookie. "…I'm sorry," he whispered solemnly. "…So young…" Gaara could only give him amused glances. He shook his head. Is my brother really insane? I'm starting to think this isn't an act. To actually take precious belongings from me… first Kuma-chan, now the cookie. Besides, it wasn't like he was trying to draw attention to himself when he apologized to the 'dead' cookie. Maybe he needed to consult somebody if this continued. He nibbled on his cookie thoughtfully.