While Karasu and the others went to Konoha, I took Kankurou to a special place to see if he could remember anything. I had been studying him for a while, and it seemed to relate to a pattern. During a new moon, he seemed to become more like himself. But when a full moon appeared, he was mute and his eyes went dull.
I wished to investigate this further. We needed Kankurou back. We, naturally, meaning the puppeteer corps. He was quite the prodigy. He could have been on the same level as my grandson in ten or fifteen years.
"Just think of it," I said to him one day, when he was twelve, "You, wielding one hundred puppets."
"Yeah," he cried, "I could do that! That would sure be making something of myself, Chiyo-sensei!"
In his current state, that wouldn't be happening. And this had lost him a good year of training. I needed to find a way to reverse it. Tonight was a new moon, so I took him to my meditation garden.
"So," I said, sitting cross-legged across the tiny stream from him, "What do you remember?"
"Nothing," he answered in a monotone.
"Do you remember your name?"
"No.
"Would you like me to tell it to you?" He looked up, the same blank expression in his eyes.
"You know it?"
"Yes. Normally it's taboo to say it out loud. Then again, it's also taboo to speak to you. I can't be troubled with such trivialities." I took a sip of tea.
"So I have a name…" For a second, humanity flashed through his eyes.
"It's Kankurou."
"Kan…Kurou? Peace and Hardship?"
"Yes, exactly."
"I see."
"Do you remember anything at all?"
"I told you, no. I don't remember a thing. I didn't know my name, but now I do… That blonde girl would just stare at me when I asked her anything."
"That girl is your sister, Temari."
"Oh."
"I could tell you anything you wanted…"
"Why…" He said, slowly unwinding the bandage from his face, "Why do I hurt all the time?" Sand and blood dripped to the ground. "Why doesn't someone help me?"