Chapter Four

From the bench against the dojo wall, Gaara sat watching the orange rays of the setting sun stretch across the wooden floor as though they sought to reach his feet. He'd awakened that morning to find Kankuro sprawled on the bed beside him, sleeping peacefully. Gaara had been surprised to find him still there, although not discomforted. What embarrassed him was the incident that had required Kankuro's presence.

The dojo door slid open, and following tradition, Kankuro kicked off his sandals and bowed before stepping into the room. Once again, he was dressed in simple black clothes and was sans face paint, which was a sure sign he'd returned from his mission early that day.

"Yo," Kankuro called, crossing the floor. "You ready to practice again?"

He seemed normal, Gaara thought, as though the bizarre incident of the previous night had never occurred. Relieved, he nodded and joined his brother on the dojo floor; he wanted to forget the incident as quickly as possible.

"Okay." Kankuro stepped closer, closing the distance between them to one appropriate for dancing. "Do you wanna lead the first round, or do you want me to?"

Gaara watched Kankuro's business-like expression, the demeanor of a sensei, and felt his own stubbornness rise to the occasion. "No. I'll lead."

Kankuro cocked a half-grin at him. "That's the spirit." He flung one hand outward in a begin-at-will gesture.

Thinking back on the previous day, Gaara took his brother's hand and put his other hand on his shoulder. "Like this?"

"Yeah, if I were leading, but you said you would." Despite the 'sensei' tone of voice, Kankuro seemed relaxed, the veritable soul of patience. "And don't forget to bow first."

Knowing he had to look frazzled, Gaara took a deep breath and stepped away. He bowed, waited for Kankuro to do the same, then clasped his brother's hand and put his hand on his waist. "This?"

"Yep." Kankuro rested his hand on Gaara's shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. "Go ahead. I've already proven I can follow your lead."

Gaara felt his brow furrow in concentration. "All right." He stepped to the right, beginning the box step, and his brother moved with him as promised. He focused on the steps for two rounds, then sighed. "Sorry about last night." He wanted to forget what had happened, but he couldn't dismiss the feeling that he'd overburdened Kankuro. "I wasn't — I mean, I lost control."

"No need to apologize, jan." Kankuro shrugged one shoulder faintly. "I didn't handle it any better when it happened to me."

Gaara glanced at their feet, but realizing he was supposed to maintain eye contact, he met Kankuro's gaze again. "I know. But I don't like losing control."

"I don't know many people who do." Kankuro paused as they started a fourth round of the dance. "But I guess you'd be less comfortable with it than most people thanks to having to control Shukaku for all that time." He squeezed the hand he held. "It's okay, though. You can let go around me. I don't mind."

Gaara considered that offer for several moments before nodding. Although he didn't feel his brother fully understood, he knew Kankuro would be patient.

After a pause, Kankuro fell back into sensei-mode. "You're doing well remembering all the steps, but you need to try to relax a bit. I mean, you need to maintain good posture, sure, but you don't need to be stiff or tense."

"I don't know if I can do that." Gaara sighed in mild irritation. "I might be able to with you, but it's different with other people. I don't want to relax around them." He summoned his Unflappable Kazekage Face. "There. Better?"

Kankuro laughed. "Now you look like you could just as easily be eating a plate of sawdust as tempura." He cocked his head, his lingering grin showing he was half-teasing. "Being expressionless isn't really the answer, although it's better than scaring your dancing partner with a battle-ready look."

Gaara glowered at his brother. "You mean like this?" This won him another peal of laughter from Kankuro, and he sighed once again. "I don't know what I'm supposed to look like. If I don't feel relaxed, how am I supposed to look relaxed?"

Kankuro halted them and released his brother. "Okay, adopt the Kazekage Look for now if you like, but let's work on getting you to relax." He raised an eyebrow. "So
why don't you want to relax around others?"

A legitimate question. Gaara paused and pondered the issue. "I suppose I don't trust them," he replied quietly. "On some level, I still expect them to —" His words died a dozen identical memories flashed through his mind: kids running away from him screaming, adults backing away in fear, and shinobi turning their backs as he passed them on the street. He frowned to himself. "I don't like being around people I don't know. I don't trust people who I've never met." He sighed, well aware that his attitude made it more difficult for him to befriend new people. The precious people in his life were mostly, although not all, people he'd known before his attitude change.

"I guess that makes sense, given your past." Kankuro paused. "But remember this is the Hokage. We may not know her personally, but we do know we can trust her. For the sake of the dance, try to keep that in mind."

Gaara nodded slowly. "I suppose. I keep forgetting it's the Hokage I will be dancing with." He dropped his voice, adding in a murmur, "Although I'd also like to forget that as long as possible."

"Okay." Kankuro's brow furrowed, as though he were confused as to why Gaara was being so resistant. "Well, let's start again, and try to relax — for me."

"All right." Gaara steeled himself, resolving to do so for his brother's sake.

Kankuro waved one hand through the air. "By your lead."

Taking a deep breath, Gaara forced his irritation down; he really did want to do it for his brother. He took Kankuro's hand, put his hand on his waist, and began the dance again. He could tell from Kankuro's slightly raised eyebrow, though, that he could sense how stiff and irritated Gaara was. With effort, Gaara tried to relax, to fall into himself like he had the previous night, and he even managed to clear his mind. However, it only made him trip over Kankuro's feet because he wasn't paying enough attention. The stiffness in his body was better for one night's sleep, but it wasn't entirely gone. "Damn it!"

"I think you're almost to the point where you're trying too hard. We need to do something to help you relax, I guess." Kankuro frowned, clearly pondering the situation. "Why don't we try to address the problem more directly again? If I understand you, then the real issue has to do with letting people get close to you or touch you, right?"

Feeling an impending headache shoot through his skull, Gaara nodded. "I think so. It's not . . . naturally comforting. At least in this situation."

"Well, then —" Kankuro paused abruptly, as though an idea had hit him. A faint blush tinted his cheeks, and his closed one eye, clearly unsure of what he was going to say next. "There is another type of dancing that is not as formal or complicated as the box step. Would you like to try it instead? It won't help you practice ballroom dancing, but it'll help you practice dancing in general."

Gaara found his attention captured on one simple detail. "But it's easier?"

"Much easier, actually."

"Good." With hooded eyes, Gaara stared at his brother. "Maybe I can manage it. What are the steps?"

Still blushing, Kankuro shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, I should warn you first that it'll definitely work on your ability to . . . tolerate being touched. Is that okay?"

Gaara was glad that Kankuro was at least upfront about it. "Yeah, I suppose." He sighed once more, resigning himself to his fate. "This shouldn't be so difficult. Go ahead. Try it." His tone was less than enthusiastic.

"Okay." This time, Kankuro took a deep breath, clearly psyching himself up. He stepped very close to Gaara, close enough to hug him. "All right, put both your hands on my shoulders. Really, for the sake of making it easier on yourself, just put your arms around my shoulders so you hands nearly touch behind my neck."

Unconsciously mirroring Kankuro, Gaara briefly closed his eyes and took an extended, deep breath, letting it out very slowly. After a pause, he gingerly placed his arms around his brother's shoulders.

"Good. Now my hands go here." Kankuro wrapped his arms around Gaara's waist, then his tone became sensei-like again. "Okay. I don't know of any official name for this dance. Most people just call it slow dancing."

Gaara fought to hide his reaction, but he couldn't. He rolled his eyes. "I. Hate. Touching. People." He twitched a bit, unable to stop a faint shudder.

Flinching, Kankuro stared past Gaara's shoulder. "I know. But you might, like, be glad you know how to do this someday."

Feeling his brother tense slightly, Gaara internally cringed. "I . . ." He paused, realizing just how far out his brother had put himself and how Kankuro had likely interpreted his words. "That wasn't directed at you, specifically. I'm sorry." His voice grew quiet as he considered how comforting Kankuro's affection had been the previous night. "Sometimes it's okay."

"Okay." Kankuro seemed to brush past the explanation, his gaze still trained on the wall behind Gaara. "Now we're going to do something really simple: we're just going to sway back and forth, kinda dragging our feet in a slow circle as we do. Just follow me; it's easy. Ready?"

Struck with a twinge of guilt, Gaara pulled himself together, thinking he was giving his brother a hard time when Kankuro was only trying to help him. "Yeah." He decided to try to be a better student.

Relaxing only marginally, Kankuro nodded. "We'll be moving to my right." He began swaying in a slow, lazy, circular pattern, guiding Gaara along with him.

After a few minutes, Gaara was struck by the familiarity of the movement. "This looks like . . ." He felt the amusement leaking onto his face. "I've seen this before."

Kankuro finally focused on him, looking curious. "Really?"

Gaara snickered, deciding he'd finally found a way to make fun of dancing that was genuinely funny. "Yes. When we assisted the Konoha ninja several years ago, I came to the aid of Rock Lee." He waited to see Kankuro's reaction, and getting none, he continued. "And he was slightly intoxicated."

"Intoxicated?" Kankuro sounded incredulous.

Gaara was lost in his memories, visualizing Lee stumbling around dragging his feet; he couldn't help a snort of laughter.

Kankuro raised one eyebrow, apparently unsure how to feel about this announcement. "Oh . . . so my dancing skills remind you of a drunk?"

"I —" Gaara realized he'd stuck his foot in his mouth, or rather shoved it in. "I didn't mean you in particular." He looked down at their arms. "Just this dance in general." He sighed, feeling utterly defeated. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong." How many times was he going to insult or hurt his brother in one day?

A grin worked its way to Kankuro's lips, and he chuckled faintly. "I guess you mean the swaying. But yeah, I hope we're more graceful than a drunken Lee-kun."

"Apparently it was Tsunade-sama's fault." Gaara smiled as well, only to think about Tsunade again and frown. Then he remembered Temari's words from the previous day. "Temari said that men and women dance in order to fall in love."

"Well, in a sense." Kankuro shrugged faintly. "Two people who are interested in each other would dance this way to try to get to know each other better, and two people who were already dating or even married would dance this way as a sign of affection. Or, actually, it would be more like this." He pulled Gaara against his chest, embracing him completely. "And this," he added, reaching up briefly to lay Gaara's head against his shoulder.

Feeling his eyes widen, Gaara paused, overwhelmed by the warm sensation. "But . . ." The confusion hit him squarely. "You're my brother."

"Oh, it's just a demonstration." Kankuro's tone was offhand. "It's not anything we'd want someone to walk in on, I admit, but someone has to teach you how to dance." His tone grew more serious, soft. "And I do care for you . . . in a familial sense."

As his cheeks grew warm, Gaara felt oddly touched by Kankuro's statement as well as by the hug that was hidden inside the dancing. "I'm . . ." He paused, realizing his voice had wavered slightly; no one had come out and said such a thing to him before. Not and meant it. "I'm glad." He abruptly shut up, knowing he'd just blurted out something silly and embarrassing.

"I'm glad that you're glad." Kankuro didn't seem to find it silly. "It's nice to finally have you as my little brother."

Gaara nodded against Kankuro's shoulder, then let his head rest there. "You make it seem straightforward," he admitted quietly. "It makes so much more sense when I'm around you or Temari. But . . ." He paused, unsure how to vocalize his confusion and questions concerning love. "It doesn't around other people. It only makes sense in the context of wanting to protect the village."

"Of course I make it seem straightforward." Kankuro snorted. "I speak my mind whether I should or not. I'm not exactly good at keeping my opinions to myself. But, yeah, most people find it harder to talk about this stuff with, say, a girlfriend."

Gaara frowned, feeling downcast. "It makes no sense to me." He hesitated, beginning to realize that everything they'd been talking about was interconnected, and he didn't understand most of it. He wondered if his love would ever extend beyond his immediate family and his generalized commitment to protecting the village. "It's all so complicated," he added in a whisper.

"Yes, very," Kankuro said bluntly, leaning back in order to make Gaara meet his gaze. "But you know what? You're not supposed to have it all figured out yet. You might be the Kazekage, but you're still just 15. No one understands this stuff at 15. Or 17. Hell, most people send their lives figuring it out piece by piece, and some of them never get it. It's not weird to take time. It's just the way love works. Or the romantic kind, anyway."

Gaara nodded and halted their dance, glancing toward the benches. More than learning to dance, he wanted to discuss this concept that had tortured him in various forms since he was six.

Kankuro watched him closely, trying to figure out what his brother was thinking. Although he'd done his best to be laidback and supportive, he had to admit that Gaara's questions and reactions over the last two days had kept him mission-alert. However, since he considered it partially his fault that his brother knew little about love and affection, he was willing to sacrifice any amount of energy, sleep, or comfort to see Gaara through this situation. "You want to rest?" he guessed, noticing the way his brother eyed the benches.

Gaara shrugged.

Wondering if his fate was to be that of a mind-reader, Kankuro decided the shrug of a 15-year-old was tantamount to a yes. "Let's sit down for a while." He tugged Gaara over to the bench, and his brother followed willingly enough.

Sitting by Kankuro on the bench, Gaara bent down and leaned his elbows on his knees. "You understand it, don't you?"

Stunned, Kankuro wondered for a moment what to say. "Let me explain something to you." He stared out at the dojo where his father, grandfather, and countless trainers had spent days beating every sign of weakness out of Temari and him. They'd learned to take kicks to the head with a smile; they'd learned to stand up when their entire bodies were shaking so badly their knees literally knocked together. There had been days when their knuckles were so busted that they'd had to eat dinner with their fingers, and their lips had been so split and swollen that the food had dribbled back out of their mouths. It had made them tough, fearless warriors, children strong enough to claim the Kazekage as their father. "Don't disappointment me" had slowly become "You didn't disappoint me," but it never had been anything more.

It had been a world without love.

"Our father didn't love Temari or me anymore than he did you." The words came out more quietly than Kankuro intended. They were hard to say, harder than he would've imagined. "If Temari and I hadn't been so close in age — hadn't studied and trained together all day every day — we would've probably never figured out what familial love is, much less been figured out how to . . . to show it to you." He blushed miserably. No matter how ruthlessly he pushed himself to show Gaara he was cared for, dropping his punk mask never got easier. Impulsively, he reached out and hugged Gaara to him, letting his actions speak for him. That was proving a little less difficult, at least. "So, no. I don't have any great insight into love. I've dated a bit, sure, but it took me years just to . . . to realize I wanted to protect you."

"I'm glad you figured it out," Gaara said quietly, leaning against his chest.

Although part of him rejoiced in the fact Gaara accepted his affection, Kankuro still frowned to himself, completely unable to explain just how much he wanted to protect his siblings. In his heart, he wanted to take his father's place and take care of his family, but he knew it couldn't really work that way. They were all too close in age, and Temari and he were close in strength, while Gaara was even stronger. The role he ultimately wanted was one he didn't feel like he could have.

Gaara's brow furrowed as he continued. "Dating is . . ." He sounded more like he was talking to himself. "I've watched other people. They spend time with each other. They call it dating, and they claim to love each other. But they don't." He looked down, his gaze falling to the floor. "And dating involves other things. I understand that. Because when people date they . . ." He trailed off again, clearly disturbed by something.

Listening quietly, Kankuro was struck for the second time in two days by just how painfully Gaara's life had pulled together. He'd recreated himself successfully, far more so than anyone could have imagined, but it didn't erase the suffering that had gone with it. Without anyone to love him, hug him, hold him, or show him interest and affection, Gaara seemed to find simple touch bizarre and sexual things nearly incomprehensible.

"But that can't be love," Gaara said. "Or, if it is, I don't want it. Because you and Temari are my family. And I . . ." He cringed, clearly struggling with his words and almost inaudible. "I care for you. Both of you. You're precious to me."

Kankuro's breath froze in his lungs, his shock so great that he felt his pulse in his temples. The blood rushed into his ears, deafening him for a moment until he inhaled slowly, trying to stave off the crashing wave of joy that followed the shock. He said it back, Kankuro thought, stunned and happy. He said we're precious.

Gaara had continued, apparently unaware of his brother's elation. "But it's different from what I've seen. So love can't be the same, then? It's not equal? Or . . ." He sighed abruptly, obviously totally perplexed.

As he stared at the shiny, hardwood floor, Kankuro did his best to refocus his attention and follow his brother's stilted speech. He thought back to when he rushed after Gaara to try to save him, without any backup, and nearly died. No matter how stupid the elders considered his actions, he would do it again and again if he had to. "The greatest expression of love is the willingness to die to save another person," he said slowly, trying to figure out how to explain it all. "But there are various stages of romantic love, called 'falling in love.' It's a progression from just enjoying someone's company to wanting to spend the rest of your life with that person. And different situations — familial versus romantic, for example — bring up different versions of the feeling of love." He sighed, remembering a particularly nasty break up he'd suffered. "Let me give you some free advice, though. You can't love someone if you don't really know them. It's not about how damn hot she is or how great the sex is. This much I figured out the hard way. Like, the super hard way." He occasionally wondered if the metaphorical stab wound in his back was still bleeding.

Frowning, Gaara glanced up at him. "I guess that makes sense." He shifted against him, as though he wanted to offer his brother comfort somehow. "So it's all the same? Like different kinds of one emotion?"

"Yes and no." Kankuro wondered how he could explain something that he both did and didn't understand, but in that moment, he felt like a brother, father, and sensei. He refused to fail his role. "It's like this: if a brother loves his brother, he'll die to save him. If parents love their children, they'll die to save them. If a husband loves his wife, he'll die to save her. In that sense, love is the same. But . . ." He paused, tripping as his punk mask fought against his sensei act. Sometimes he wondered if he might lose himself in his own multilayered performances. To a certain extent, it was a valid question.

However, over time Kankuro had realized that when he became overbalanced, he could center himself on his siblings. Or, more specifically, he could focus on what he wanted to accomplish for his family. He grounded himself in his determination to answer Gaara's question well. "But the difference is in the expression of love, I guess," he continued. "If you love your siblings or your kids, you have the urge to hug or kiss them." He tightened his arm around Gaara in demonstration. "But with your wife . . . well, when you're attracted to someone or you're in love with her, you want to —" He paused, almost reverting to typical guy talk, but he found himself unable to speak crassly with his brother. Gaara took the issue so seriously, Kankuro felt compelled to match his attitude. "— to have sex." It was just like the previous night. Gaara was too confused and concerned for Kankuro to act macho and take the easy way out.

Gaara nodded. "Okay. But how do you know? Do you dream about them?" His eyes widened. "Or does it happen every time? What if you think one thing, but you only end up being friends?" His brow furrowed; he seemed to be having monstrous difficulty articulating all his questions and thoughts.

Kankuro cringed. Good question."Well, that's the part everyone struggles with. Sometimes they hit it off and fall in love. Sometimes they find they don't really get along and break up, and sometimes they just end up being friends instead. And, yeah, you probably will dream about them, but not necessarily in the way you did last night."

Sitting up straight again, Gaara pulled one foot up to the bench, bending his leg and resting his head on his knee. "I wouldn't even know where to begin. I'd never thought about this before." His voice wasn't much more than a whisper. "I don't even know if anyone else would be . . ." He trailed off, frowning.

"Interested in you?" Kankuro found the question to be deeply ironic.

Gaara wrapped his arms around his leg and squeezed it. "I would be expected to, though, wouldn't I? As Kazekage. I suspect Father was . . . the way he spoke of Mom, I assumed he was encouraged to marry her."

Kankuro couldn't deny that. "At some point, probably when you're in your mid-20s, people will expect you to start searching for a wife, yeah. In fact, as soon as you come of age, you might find fathers introducing their daughters to you in the hopes that you'll date them." He paused, wondering if they might start even before Gaara was legally an adult. He hoped not. "But no one is going to place that kind of pressure on you any time soon." Surely, since Gaara was only 15, they'd at least wait a few more years. "And, well, it's certainly nothing you need to worry about. I know you don't pay attention to it, but several of the girls in this town have crushes on you. You have your own fan club full of squealing girls." Kankuro sometimes wondered why women always went for the silent, cool, loner types. Was it the mystery? Did they seem hard to get? It was weird and confusing.

Gaara blushed. "Like the ones who will want to dance with me at the ball? Perhaps . . ." He glanced at his brother. "Perhaps we should practice again."

Much amused, Kankuro stood and offered his hand. "Okay. Sounds like a good idea." He had no idea if he were explaining things well or helping Gaara with these concepts at all, but at least he was sure he could assist with the dancing.

Standing as well, Gaara took his hand almost absently, his mind stuck on the swooning girls who he had, in fact, noticed. He didn't understand them, but he had noticed the way they followed him around and complimented him. Realizing these thoughts were not helping, he ended up staring at the hardwood floor as they stepped away from the benches.

Gaara paused, unsure which dance Kankuro wanted him to practice, but he wrapped his arms around Kankuro's neck without waiting for him to speak. Kankuro hesitated, apparently surprised, then relaxed and encircled his waist with his arms.

"Okay," Kankuro said, his voice far softer than usual. The effect helped Gaara to relax. "Just sway again."

Gaara nodded and closed his eyes. Although he really thought dancing was stupid, he leaned his head on Kankuro's shoulder and began to shift his feet. As Kankuro held him close and guided them in the slow, lazy circles, Gaara wondered briefly if he would ever trust someone else the same way he trusted Kankuro in that moment. If so, would it feel the same? Would he be able to find this thing called love with someone outside his family? Would he find it with a woman and create a family of his own?

After only a few minutes, someone knocked on the dojo door, and Temari's voice pierced the wood. "Hey! You guys in there?"

Gaara and Kankuro both jumped as though startled out of a semi-dream state. Gaara took a deep breath and released his brother, willing his heart rate down.

Kankuro released him as well, gazing toward the door with a frown of blatant suspicion. "Yeah, we're here. Come on in."

Sliding open the door, Temari smiled at them, her face a picture of angelic innocence. "I thought I should check on your progress." She paused, slipping off her sandals and bowing herself into the dojo. "How's it going?"

Gaara put on his Unflappable Kazekage Face for composure. "Fine." He hoped he wasn't lying.

Temari's smile turned mischievous. "Then you won't mind showing me by dancing with me."

"Which —" Gaara stopped himself before he asked which dance. With a flash of insight, he realized that she'd seen them dancing through the window. He remembered what Kankuro had said about its being better if no one saw them practicing the slow dance, and he wondered what she made of it. "Which . . . would be a pleasure," he finished, deadpan.

Although Temari cocked an eyebrow at him, she didn't remark on his unusual phrasing. "Okay, then. Do you want me to lead the first round, or are you ready to lead?"

Stopping to consider this, Gaara felt more confident than he had before, and he nodded to himself. "I'll lead."

"Excellent." Temari walked up to him and stopped at the appropriate distance. "Shall we begin?" She curtsied.

Kankuro backed away, giving them plenty of room, and retreated to the benches.

"Let's." Gaara bowed and gave her a slight, coy smile.

Temari grinned as though she thought it would be fun and extended her hands to him.

Taking her hands, Gaara mentally made note of the steps; he found he remembered them better now that he wasn't frustrated and totally against dancing. Temari settled one hand on his shoulder and firmly returned his clasp with the other. Gaara rested his hand on her waist, paused to be sure she was ready, then stepped to the side. To his surprise, the movement felt more natural.

Temari followed his lead with apparent ease. "Wow, you really have learned quickly." She seemed impressed.

Gaara tried to mask his pride at her comment, but he suspected he didn't quite succeed. He felt a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Kankuro was helpful." He paused, realizing the truth of the statement. "He taught me quite a few things." From the corner of his vision, he saw his brother smile with obvious pleasure and pride.

"Good." Temari's grin faded into a sad smile. "He was always better at . . . this . . . than I was."

Remembering what Kankuro said earlier about Temari, Gaara felt he'd stuck his foot in his mouth again. "He was just preparing me so you could teach me the fine details." He realized with a certain mixture of horror and relief that he'd managed to learn political BS tactics.

Temari snorted. "That's kind of you to say, I guess, but the truth is I can't expand upon anything he's taught you."

Gaara's eyes twinkled slightly, although he kept his expression neutral. "I don't know about that. I suspect that Kankuro can't quite give me the same experience you can." He paused a beat. "He's weighted slightly differently."

Looking both surprised and amused, Temari laughed. "I guess that's true enough." Her grin returned, and she relaxed, becoming more graceful.

Gaara permitted himself to smile and thought that maybe, just maybe, the gala wouldn't be so bad . . . as long as Temari would dance with him.

A/N: And on to the ball . . .

Let me give a special shout out to Jkl and Tammy for their reviews. Thank you!