Portrait of the Kazekage

by Surreptitious Chi X

As the eldest son in the family, Kankuro insists on bearing responsibilities for his father that his siblings don't. One month before the Chunin Exam is scheduled to start in Konoha, Kankuro finds out how important his responsibilities are. He sees a side of his father that no one but his mother has ever known.

10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

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The rest of the day passed without event; after supper, they went their separate ways, his father retreating to the bedroom by himself. Kankuro slept in his own bed, with the company of Poko curled around his feet underneath the covers. Her fur tickled, but Kankuro didn't mind the warmth.

In the morning, after they got to the Kazekage Office, his father snagged a rare moment of privacy in which Gaara and Temari were out of the room. He motioned Kankuro over to his desk. "Quickly."

Kankuro approached, curious, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"I made an appointment to see a counselor about my depression," Yondaime said. "The only time I could get is one o'clock, so I am going to be splitting my day. If you still wish to come along with me, feel welcome –"

"I do," Kankuro said quickly.

His father smiled at him. "Okay. Then it's decided."

Temari came back from getting a glass of water, and Gaara got back from the bathroom.

Five minutes later, Baki arrived to take them on their mission for the day, and they left. It was weeding and grout-cleaning the courtyard of one of the local temples. Dirty, but honest work.

xXx

When Kankuro and the others returned from the mission, he was sweaty and tired, but satisfied. He had used Karasu to weed out all of the little flowers and tufts of grass growing in between the tiles. Temari had swept everything up with her wind release, directing her release with her fan. Gaara had used his sand to scrub the courtyard clean afterwards. They were a team, for once. Even though the work was unorthodox, Kankuro felt proud of them.

Baki reported to their father that their teamwork had been excellent as well, a rare praise that made Kankuro glow. A glance at his sister told him that she felt the same way. She was grinning broadly.

They barely had time to go home, get cleaned up, and eat lunch before it was time for Kankuro to go back to his father's office and accompany his father to the therapy appointment.

Kankuro arrived to find his father already waiting at the door for him. They nodded to each other, and set off.

xXx

This time, when they arrived, they already knew the way up to After the Storm, so it took less time. They were in the waiting room for about ten minutes before someone emerged to get them.

She had dark blue hair and lighter skin, like Kankuro's family. Like most of Suna's population, she had hazel eyes. Her long hair was pulled back and secured with a white barrette. She bowed politely. "My name is Mafumi. I will be your depression counselor, Yondaime." Her uniform was the same as Yuna's: a white coat a cross between a martial arts jacket and a lab coat.

Yondaime rose and nodded to her. "Good afternoon, Mafumi-san."

Kankuro took a step forward. "Ah, Yuna-san suggested that I could come back there, too. Cause, you know, he's my father and everything."

Mafumi nodded. "Yes, please. As long as the Kazekage-sama does not object to the support, he should have it."

"I do not object," Yondaime said, in his Official Voice.

Mafumi nodded again, and with another bow, turned and gestured. "Follow me, please."

She led them back to her office. It was further inside the suite than Yuna's office. The plague on the wall read: Cloudy Room. And underneath that, Mafumi.

Kankuro snorted. "Cloudy Room?"

Mafumi turned and smiled at him wryly. "I know." She opened the door. "That is one way we keep our sense of humor around here. Most of my patients come in feeling 'cloudy' – and with any luck, they come out feeling 'sunny'."

Kankuro grinned. "I certainly hope so. My father could use a bit of sun."

Yondaime looked embarrassed.

They entered the room. The room was painted a soothing shade of blue, and also had chairs upholstered in various shades of blue. This room was larger than Yuna's room; there were four chairs clustered around a central kotatsu table, plus a desk in the back.

"This is a family therapy room," Mafumi explained, taking in the way Kankuro and Yondaime examined the room. "In the case of a family being here, I use the office chair and allow them the comfortable chairs."

Kankuro nodded. He sat down, glancing at his father to make sure his father sat down as well in the chair beside his to the left. For some reason, he had a thing about needing people to be to the left of him. He hated it when people positioned themselves to his right.

Mafumi retrieved a clipboard from her desk, along with a pen, and sat down across from them in a dark blue chair. "First things first: When clients come to me, the first visit is always about taking an assessment with me."

"Sounds fair," Yondaime said.

Mafumi nodded. "We shall begin." She glanced at Kankuro. "Please feel free to help your father if some of the questions are difficult."

"I will," Kankuro said.

Yondaime shot his son a grateful smile.

Kankuro felt good about being here. There's no way I would make you do this by yourself, Tousan.

"Do you feel as if you are depressed?" Mafumi asked.

"Yes," Yondaime said. "I have no doubt."

Mafumi nodded and checked something off on the paper pinned to her clipboard. "Alright. Now that that question is out of the way…" She scanned the assessment.

Kankuro and Yondaime waited patiently.

"How much exercise do you get?" Mafumi asked.

Yondaime stared at her blankly.

Kankuro wanted to smack his forehead.

"O-Once a week," Yondaime said. "If I'm lucky."

"For how long?" Mafumi asked gently.

"As long as it takes before I get interrupted," Yondaime said, as if that were the most obvious and normal thing in the world.

"I see." Mafumi pressed her lips together to hide a smile threatening to blossom.

Kankuro sighed. "You need more time to yourself."

Yondaime shrugged sheepishly. "I have a job to do, a village to run. People need me."

"People need you to be healthy," Kankuro corrected.

His father slid down in his chair a little and pouted.

This time, Mafumi couldn't contain her smile. "Yes. I'm afraid your son has a point, Kazekage-sama. Is that not why you are here?"

"I'm here to be a better father for my children," Yondaime said. "If that ends up affecting the village positively…well, I won't complain."

Mafumi nodded. "Duly noted." She looked down at her clipboard. "Now, Kazekage-sama…how do you eat?"

"Very well, thank you," Yondaime said.

Mafumi's smile grew. "I mean…do you eat well-balanced meals throughout the day? Or do you wait until you are hungry and may have a headache."

"Well…" Yondaime looked to Kankuro.

Kankuro raised an eyebrow.

His father flushed slightly. "I can be distracted sometimes…but I definitely have breakfast and dinner on time every day. Those meals I eat at home."

"Now," Kankuro teased. He couldn't resist.

His father crossed his arms over his chest, blushing miserably. "Kankuro had to come get me to ensure that I ate dinner every night at the same time as everyone else in my household, but I am used to it now. I could be responsible for my own attendance to dinner at this point."

"Uh-huh." Kankuro grinned.

Mafumi raised an eyebrow and politely quelled a smile. "I see. So your son is already helping you maintain a healthy lifestyle." She marked off Yondaime's response on her assessment.

"Yes," Yondaime said. He slid his son a look. "Kankuro is very helpful."

"And nosy," Kankuro supplied.

His father looked mortified at his honesty.

Kankuro chuckled. "Relax, Dad. It's confidential; we can say whatever we want to Mafumi-san." He looked to her. "Isn't that right? Privacy rules still exist, like those with Yuna-san?"

"Of course," Mafumi said, nodding. "I could never divulge anything you tell me, Kazekage-sama. And by extension, that includes Kankuro-dono, since he is taking part in your therapy session."

Yondaime took a deep breath and relaxed somewhat, sitting back in his chair. "Alright. I will keep that in mind and try not to be…embarrassed." He said the word as if it were something gooey stuck to his hand.

Kankuro reined in a snort.

"Do you sleep?" Mafumi asked.

"That is the question I used to ask," Kankuro joked. Something about Mafumi's quietness and respect, coupled with her sense of humor about this situation and her comfort around his father, really made Kankuro open up around her. He didn't joke around just anyone. But he felt like he could with Mafumi and not get in trouble. He'd felt that way about Yuna, too. Man, they have some really good therapists here. Dad made an excellent choice when he decided to come here.

"Aha," Mafumi said wryly. She turned her attention to Yondaime. "Well, do you sleep now? And for how long?"

"I sleep every night," Yondaime said mildly. "From about seven or eight o'clock until six thirty in the morning."

Mafumi looked surprised. "That long?"

"It's not enough," Yondaime said. "Trust me. To account for all the tossing and turning, the times I wake up, and the work I do…it's not enough, Maifmi-san." He looked at her earnestly. "I wake up exhausted every morning."

Mafumi pressed her lips together and looked at Yondaime solemnly. "This is definitely a sign of depression. No matter what the hard work, a man at your age who sleeps ten hours is depressed."

Yondaime sighed. "I knew that…I did not know my depression was affecting my sleep."

"Other than the nightmares," Kankuro said pointedly. "That, you could have figured. Am I right?"

His father went still. "The nightmares?"

"Oh, come off it, Dad," Kankuro said. "I could hear you. You don't think I'd notice when someone whimpers in their sleep? And I don't mean talk. I mean whimper."

Yondaime paled. He slowly turned his gaze from Kankuro to the therapist.

Mafumi looked at him sympathetically. "Kazekage-sama…nightmares among shinobi are normal. And among depressed people. Depressed people have 72% more nightmares on average. I read a sleep study recently. Regular nightmares are another sign of depression."

"Then I've always been depressed," Yondaime said automatically. Then his face went blank. Kankuro suspected that was a reaction of horror that he had admitted something like that.

Kankuro reached across, but their chairs were barely too far apart. He leapt up and stood by his father's side, squeezing his father's hand. "It's okay. We're confidential. We're not going to tell anybody. This isn't a weakness you can help. You're depressed. Depression is something you can't help feeling the effects of. That's why we're here. To get you better." He hoped his soft, soothing words would have an effect. He hated to see his father freeze up like this.

"Everyone has emotions," Mafumi said.

Yondaime relaxed. He sank back in his chair and closed his eyes, looking exhausted.

Kankuro squeezed his father's hand, more concerned than ever.

"Then I have…nightmares every night," Yondaime spoke slowly. Kankuro could hear the pain in his father's voice.

"We will be able to help with that," Mafumi said softly, nodding. "I know that by improving your life, you will have less nightmares, less frequently. We are here to help with that. All the counselors at After the Storm are versed in depression relief techniques. Please use as many resources at your disposal as you need. Some of us are massage therapists; I am not, you would have to see a different person for that, but I could recommend a few people if you wish to explore that avenue."

"Massage?" Yondaime mumbled. "Why?"

"Because massage is a way to release the stress and the toxins you've absorbed from your environment," Mafumi said gently. "You absorb a lot of that, I must imagine. Working where you do."

"Yes," Yondaime whispered.

"And at home," Kankuro said. "Gaara is poisonous. I love my brother, but he is. Especially to Dad."

Yondaime sighed. "It isn't his fault. Everything that happens to Gaara…it's my fault."

"We will discuss that later," Mafumi said gently. "For now, it is important that we complete this assessment."

Yondaime nodded. "Of course."

Kankuro wasn't about to go sit down, though. He stayed by his father's chair, holding his father's hand.

"The next question is about social support," Mafumi said.

Yondaime looked at her uneasily. "Social…support?"

Mafumi gave him a small, sympathetic smile. "Your friends. Your family. Any groups you are a part of that make you feel welcome. Tell me a little bit about your family and friends, Yondaime-sama."

Yondaime took a deep breath. "Well, I don't have any friends, and my family is reduced to me and my children. My father died last year, my mother three years before that. Karura's parents died when Kankuro was twelve, several months apart. Four, five. Something like that. Karura's father died first. Yashamaru, my brother-in-law, died when Kankuro was eight. I don't have any aunts or uncles, besides Chiyo-sama and Ebizo-sama, and, well…you can see they don't consider me family. So, there it is." He swallowed.

"No cousins, second-cousins, people you feel close to?" Mafumi asked gently.

Yondaime shrugged and looked down at the floor. "No."

"Then this must be another sign of your depression," Mafumi said. "And something that we change. Isolation is a key factor in what sustains a cycle of depression; it's like a weather cycle. Isolation is a pressure front that keeps you from moving on. You need friends."

"Ah," Yondaime said wryly.

Kankuro didn't think his father saw making friends as being possible. "He also needs to rely on his family, right?"

Yondaime shot Kankuro a look, but he smiled. Then he turned his gaze to the therapist. "As you can see, my son has an agenda," he said cheerfully.

Mafumi smiled in return. "Indeed." She shared her smile with Kankuro. "Your son is quite right. Your eldest children are fourteen and sixteen, is that correct?"

Yondaime nodded. "That is correct. Temari is sixteen, and Kankuro is fourteen."

"That is plenty old enough for you to start sharing responsibilities with them," Mafumi said. She gestured with her pen. "Even if you were a civilian family, Kankuro-dono and Temari-sama would be old enough to do that."

Yondaime hesitated. "Well…I did not want to put any undue pressure on them. You see, they are working as full-time ninjas, and so…"

"So they must lift their share of the work at home as well," Mafumi said gently.

"We have a servant staff," Yondaime said.

Mafumi gave him a knowing look. "That is not what I mean."

Yondaime's shoulders slumped. He looked at Mafumi like a child who had been caught doing something not strictly by the rules.

"There are emotional responsibilities –"

"No," Yondaime protested.

" – that a family must uphold together –"

"No!" Yondaime clenched his fists.

Mafumi stopped.

"No," Yondaime said more quietly. "My father hurt me like that and I am never, never doing that to my children."

"How old were you when your father made you an emotionally responsible member of the household?" Mafumi asked.

"Six," Yondaime said.

Mafumi shook her head. "Too young."

"But I was already in school –"

"Too young," Mafumi repeated. "An emotional responsibility is not the same as helping to lift a heavy object. An emotional responsibility is knowledge about the emotions of others in your family, and helping each other seek stress relief. This is a responsibility that comes with age and development, not with culturally mandated landmarks in maturity. It is inappropriate to ask someone under the age fourteen to carry an emotional burden. During one's puberty years, up through the age of fourteen, one is going through the process of individuation. This means splitting off from the parent consciousness and being aware of one's own identity. Around the age of fourteen or fifteen, a healthy teenager has a clear enough idea of their separate identity from their parents and siblings to be able to help with emotional responsibilities without being in danger of their individuality being suppressed by ordinary tasks."

"Could you speak plainly?" Yondaime asked dryly.

Mafumi took a deep breath and nodded. She looked slightly embarrassed. "An ordinary task is asking how someone's day went, understanding the response on an emotional level, and knowing some kind of appropriate response of one's own. For instance, 'How did your day go?' 'Not well.' 'I'm sorry. Would you like to go to the garden for a while?'" She gestured. "In this example, the person's stress relief strategy is their garden. So that is what their family member in this scenario offered: a gentle reminder that their coping mechanism is open to them."

Kankuro nodded. "I could do that."

"Good." Mafumi smiled at him. She turned her gaze to Yondaime. "Now, what is something you enjoy doing that brings you stress relief?"

"Nothing," Yondaime said.

Mafumi looked incredulous.

Kankuro narrowed his eyes at his father. "What he means is, the only thing he does to relieve stress is drink, and he doesn't think that is what you mean."

"In moderation, having a drink is a healthy way to unwind," Mafumi said. "Provided that is not all you do."

Yondaime shifted, distinctly uncomfortable.

"Oh," Mafumi said. She waggled her pen between her fingers and looked at him speculatively. "That is a problem."

Kankuro nodded. "That's why he didn't want to tell you."

Yondaime's cheeks colored.

"Drinking is not a hobby," Mafumi declared. "What I had in mind when I asked you about stress relief was a hobby. Or a place you go to in order to be alone and think, where you know you have privacy."

"I don't have either of those," Yondaime said. "The closest thing I have is my bedroom at home. Sometimes, I go there…but I feel guilty because then I'm not being accessible to my children."

"You can't always be accessible to your children," Mafumi pointed out. "You need some time to yourself. It's a common misconception for parents to have, that they aren't allowed to have time to themselves. Now that your children are teenagers, especially, you should be able to spend some time separate from them without worrying that something horrible is going to happen the moment you aren't there."

"Something horrible might happen when I'm not there," Yondaime said. "I face that fear all the time. Especially when I have to send them outside the village for a mission."

Mafumi pressed her lips together and nodded. "I appreciate that. But when everyone is home, and winding down for the day…you deserve some time to yourself."

"So, I need time to myself, but I need to build a social life?" Yondaime asked.

"It's a balance," Mafumi said. "All life is a balance. And it sounds like right now, the only balance you have is that everything is about work or your children."

Yondaime colored again.

"Well, we'll find something for you to do," Mafumi said. "What was something you used to do as a child to relieve stress?"

"I wrote," Yondaime said reluctantly.

Mafumi gave him a reassuring smile. "What did you write?"

"Poetry," Yondaime said, more reluctantly than before. He looked at her warily.

"Then write poetry again," Mafumi said simply.

"But I won't be any good at it," Yondaime protested. "I was never any good. I understood: I am a shinobi, not a poet. I am a miserable poet. No one should be subjected to the things that I write."

"Then don't show anybody," Mafumi said.

Yondaime stared at her.

Mafumi sighed gently and gave him a sad smile. "Kazekage-sama, the point is to relieve your stress. Not to be a poet. Not all things can be professions. If you feel uncomfortable with letting anyone view your poetry, then keep it private. Keep a journal; that way you have a book that is easy to keep track of."

"A journal," Yondaime said blankly.

Kankuro was very worried at this point about the lack of privacy his father must have had as a child. There was no other reason why his father should find this advice incomprehensible. He's never had any privacy before. His father was always breathing down his neck. His mother too, maybe. He never had anything to himself or any space, or even any room to change his name. He's always been under lock and key. And now he has freedom…but he doesn't know what to do with it. He still feels crushed. Trapped.

"Yes," Mafumi said. "That is my recommendation."

"Alright…" Yondaime looked at her uncertainly.

"Unfortunately, because you only scheduled a one hour appointment, we are almost out of time," Mafumi said. "In the last fifteen minutes, I would like to discuss with you what your treatment goals are, whether or not you feel comfortable with taking medication to ease your symptoms, and how often you want to meet."

Yondaime nodded. "That sounds reasonable."

"You mentioned wanting to be a better father," Mafumi said. "Is that one of your treatment goals?"

"Definitely," Yondaime said, back on surer ground. "I want to turn my life around for my children. I want to be a better father. If I am a better father, then I will be able to be there for my children and bring this family together."

"What about your physical symptoms?" Mafumi asked. "Would you like to sleep more restfully, have more energy, and enjoy a greater level of relaxation at home?"

"I would be a fool to say no to any of that," Yondaime said wryly.

Kankuro had to smile.

Mafumi smiled as well. She nodded. "You must get something out of it for yourself. This issue affects your health."

"I would also like…to be happy," Yondaime said. He studied Mafumi's face, as if uncertain of her reaction would be.

"That is a very good goal," Mafumi said gently.

Yondaime relaxed.

Kankuro squeezed his father's hand again, leaning against the side of the chair.

"Now, let us discussion medication." Mafumi gestured with her pen. "Is medication an option you're willing to pursue?"

"What are the benefits?" Yondaime asked.

"Short-term relief for your symptoms," Mafumi said. "Medication is not a permanent fix, but it is often recommended for those who need a quick start in the direction of getting healthier. Medication can help manage your depression, anxiety, and insomnia."

"How?" Yondaime asked. "How does it work?"

"Medication affects the brain," Mafumi said. "Your brain is full of receptors. These receptors communicate with chemicals. Medication is a chemical; it will communicate primitive signals to your brain: such as, don't worry, be happy, everything is okay. Medication does this by boosting your body's production of chemicals that produce feelings of happiness and relaxation."

"So…I'd be drugged," Yondaime said.

Kankuro winced. Apparently, this isn't going to go well.

"Everything is not happy and wonderful," Yondaime said. "But your medications would be encouraging my brain to react as if everything is."

"Yes," Mafumi said. She shrugged. "Medication brings many people relief this way. Waiting for treatment to be finished to feel relief is like fasting for several months before allowing oneself to eat. Depression treatments take at least two months. Sometimes, treatment takes one to two years. Sometimes, many years. It depends on the causes of your depression and whether or not they will resolve."

"So it might be fake happiness or nothing," Yondaime said.

"No," Mafumi said gently. "There will always be something, Yondaime-sama. You may rest assured of that. Your life will get better. But there is a difference between your life getting better and your subjective experience. You will have highs and lows. Medication helps keep you in the middle. A happy medium, as the expression goes."

Kankuro glanced at his father.

Yondaime didn't seem any more encouraged. "I would rather solve my problems the old-fashioned way. Thank you."

Mafumi nodded. "I cannot make you take medication. Your treatment is your choice. If you wish to take medication at some point in the future, I will refer you to one of our psychiatrists. Please rest assured that if you change your mind, I will not count it as a victory on my part."

Yondaime looked startled, then thoughtful. He nodded slowly. "Alright."

Kankuro saw that Mafumi was learning to read his father already. He gave her a small smile.

Mafumi acknowledged his smile with a small smile of her own. She turned her attention back to his father. "Yondaime-sama, how often would you like to meet?"

"What are the options?" Yondaime asked.

"It's really variable," Mafumi said gently. "I meet with some of my clients as often as every other day. This is in severe situations, where they have no family left, no means of support except to come here. I also meet with clients as infrequently as every two months."

"What do you suggest?" Yondaime asked.

"I would suggest either two one-hour sessions a week, or one two-hour session a week," Mafumi said. "Either way, two hours a week is a good starting point for someone in your place. Your support system is weak, and your coping mechanisms are nonexistent."

"Blunt, but fair," Yondaime said, nodding. "Alright. I'll meet with you once a week for two hours. How is that?"

"Fine," Mafumi said. She wrote something down on the assessment form. Then she reread, nodding to herself. Finally, she looked up. "Alright." She stood and bowed. "If you will follow me back to the waiting room, we will conclude this appointment. Unless you have any questions or concerns you would like me to address?"

"What is my 'homework'?" Yondaime asked with a smile.

Mafumi chuckled. "Your homework, Kazekage-sama, is to pick up one or more hobbies, and make time for them every day. Half an hour to begin with. At least half an hour needs to be spent on stress relief, if you can't manage anything else."

Yondaime bowed graciously. "I will consider that."

Kankuro gave his father a look. "You mean you'll do it. Or else I'll beat you up."

His father turned to him, startled, and then let out a laugh. "Will you, now?"

Kankuro nodded, not backing down. He gave his father a small smile. "I absolutely will. You'll find yourself tied to your bed with a journal in your hand."

"And something to write with, I hope," Yondaime retorted, his eyes sparkling.

Kankuro grinned. "Of course." He bowed.

His father snorted, and then turned to Mafumi. "I think we're done."

"Alright." Mafumi bowed and led them out of her office, back to the waiting room. She bade them goodbye and took in another patient; a woman with light hair and a worried face.

Kankuro opened the door out to the hallway for his father, and then accompanied his father down the hall and out of the building.

Once they were on the street, his father murmured, "I must get back to work. I will see you later."

"Count on it," Kankuro said.

His father turned way.

Kankuro caught his arm and hugged him.

His father froze, startled, and then hugged Kankuro back.

Kankuro felt better. "Love you, Dad. I'll be back at five o'clock to make sure you're doing what you're supposed to."

His father chuckled and stroked the back of Kankuro's neck fondly. "I see. I shall be sure to behave, then." Then he released his son. His gaze darted down the street. For the moment, they were alone. "I love you, too," he mumbled quickly, as if afraid to be caught. Then he gave Kankuro a rueful smile and bowed. "Well, I'm off."

Kankuro nodded.

His father walked down the street in the direction of the Kazekage Complex.

Kankuro waved goodbye to his father, blushing bright red and hoping his father didn't notice that. The touch to the back of his neck was all it took for his body to light up like a paper lantern.