Hello my dear readers and fellow authors!
Welcome to another chapter!
Let me thank everybody who faved and put this story on alerts! Every time I get that ping for an e-mail alert, I go bananas with happiness!
Also, cathyscloud9, The Kazekage of Suna and lilyoftheva5 your reviews gave me motivation to write :D
My playlist for this chapter is:
London Grammar – Strong (Oh God, proper words in a song!)
Two Steps From Hell - Flight of the Silverbird
Enjoy!
Chapter 9: In which Gaara closes a deal…
It was a strange feeling. He was floating, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing, yet he felt perfectly safe. The greatest thing was, he couldn't feel the constant throbbing of his scar. That one, the one that he had had to get used to.
During the Great Shinobi War he had been naive. He still remembers that fight. And, no doubt, it will haunt him for quite some time longer. His opponent had been from Iwagakure. Dark skinned, fair haired with wicked, yellow eyes, ready to tear him apart if he so allowed. Yet, they had both been brats, barely of age that allowed them to go to war. In other circumstances, they could've been friends.
He hadn't seen the hidden kunai, transformed by a jutsu and it had cut him deep into his thigh. Of course, he had won. He had carried his fellow shinobi's blood on his vest proudly, as if he were some sort of a hero. He had killed that kid. Somebody's child. Somebody's brother.
The medic-nin had taken the strangely shaped kunai out of his leg that very same day. They had healed it, as well. A mere, faint scar remained on his pale skin. Just a line, really, nothing much. Yet, it constantly hurt. It throbbed in pain, as if the unnamed shinobi had left his grudge behind. It constantly reminded him of what he was. A killer. A murderer. A villain.
"Kan-san?" The voice was faint, but it was there. Slowly, the throbbing came back into his leg and all of his fantasies of finally leaving for Heaven vanished. "Kan!" And he opened his eyes. His soul wouldn't be able to find peace anyways.
However, the place where he was could've very easily been Heaven. There was white everywhere, little blue crystals reflecting light in it and jingling as someone would move the pale sheets. A familiar face was above him and he took a minute for his brain to catch up and speak the right name.
"Shura." She smiled. Yes, he remembered now. He had gone with the Kazekage on a mission. Shura had been there as well. An annoying aristocrat, too. Kan's brain went into overdrive, remembering. His ears caught the strange, but melodic Wanderer language being spoken nearby. He looked behind Shura and saw an old, wrinkled, small woman sitting on one of the pale divans in the room. She was speaking softly with one of the priests in training.
She looked up, gazing at Kan for a moment and then continued her conversation. The eyes of the old Wanderer set him off and he was instantly on guard. The woman had looked at him as if she had read his mind clearly, like written word. Perhaps he had been calling out in his sleep. In his delusion. It wouldn't've been the first time.
"S-Shura." He said again, his voice cracking. The kunoichi stood up swiftly, bringing a water container to his lips. He drank. "What happened?" Kan asked as soon as he could. His head was clearing, finally. He could think now.
"You passed out in the Otherworld." She said, putting the container back on the small table nearby and then sitting back on the edge of his bed.
"Otherworld?"
"Yes, the Spirit World." Shura spoke slowly. She took his hand gently, and Kan noticed that he couldn't move his fingers at all. He could feel them, but not move them. The old woman in the corner spoke up suddenly, saying something to Shura in Wanderer tongue. Kan waited until she finished and then expectantly watched the kunoichi. She returned a few lines, a little clumsily, but much better than at the beginning of their trip. Then, the old lady left, her strangely simple robes swishing behind her. "She said that you might not be able to move for a while." The kunoichi smiled at him in comfort.
Kan sighed. "I've suffered Chakra exhaustion before." He joked. "This isn't going to be any worse." And then he closed his eyes, welcoming the darkness. For a few moments, they sat like that, Shura's small thumb gently tracing the back of his hand. She shouldn't have those, he thought as he felt her callouses. He had fought all those years ago so she wouldn't have to have them. He had killed and killed to stop the cycle, and it never did stop. New shinobi. New missions. More death. More scars. "How long was I asleep?"
"Almost two days." The kunoichi answered softly. There were sounds of gentle jiggling of the crystals and a soft, warm wind blew through the sheets. It smelled of wild lilies and the sea. Yet, they were nowhere near the ocean. "Gaara-san has been talking to many of the clan heads about the deal with the Priestess. It seems that they have managed to come up with agreeable conditions on both sides."
"And the challenge?" Kan asked, enjoying the way his other senses became more receptive with the absence of his sight. He could hear the soft whispering in the melodic language of the Wanderers from the room next door. He could smell the fresh linen scent of Shura's tunic from Chaizen's tribe. He could feel the whole room around him, as if it were a living and breathing creature.
"We passed in a matter of minutes." The kunoichi laughed. "I honestly thought that we had failed. However, there is a time distortion between the Worlds, especially if you are fully crossing. Hence, even though the sun had set in the Spirit World, in the Material one it was still on the horizon."
Kan opened his eyes to all the white once again. "Then, we have completed our mission?" He asked, the familiar knot in his stomach untying as it always did once he reached his objective.
"Yes." The kunoichi nodded. "We are leaving for Suna as soon as the High Priestess clears you."
"We can leave now." Kan said, furrowing his eyebrows and clenching his muscles experimentally. His fingers moved slightly, but not much. He cursed in his head. Shura smiled at him and her free hand went up to brush the bangs out of his face. He really needed to cut those, they had been getting in the way for a while.
"Rest for a while longer." Her warm hands left him and Kan drifted off slowly. "We're not in a hurry." He was almost asleep when he heard her last words. "And don't let the past haunt your dreams." And truly, Kan didn't dream of his past after that. Instead, he dreamt of the heavenly white room, with tiny jingling crystals swaying on the wind from the sea, as a soft hand caressed his.
~~~~pb~~~~
Kisara walked down the hall with purpose. She ignored the various Wanderers feasting left and right in her haste. Usually, she would've gone down the Hall slowly, choosing the table to sit at that evening. She would wait, hearing snippets of conversations from here and there, deciding carefully whose tales were the most dangerous, the funniest and the most adventurous. Then she would sit and listen to the stories of her fellow clansmen for hours and hours. But, this time she knew that there was something much more interesting in the Great Hall.
There was a group of people that didn't sporadically come and say at the Sanctuary like many of the clans did. No, this was probably a once in a lifetime chance for her. The stories that these people had were probably the best of all. They went into cities freely, not needing a Merchant's Permit (which was impossibly difficult for a Wanderer to acquire). They did mission for the highest of authorities and they guarded nobles.
Kisara grinned at the thought and hurried up her pace. She caught a flash of long blond curls, decorated with pears and crystals. Eileen was sitting with perfect poise next to a handsome young man of dark skin and hair so black, that it seemed to shine a navy hue. She looked like she was enjoying something that he had said. Kisara smiled softly. Her friend really was hopeless when she was around men. Every Summit or visit of a clan, you could find her flirting and breaking hearts. What could one do, Eileen was truly a rare beauty among their people.
Kisara averted her eyes, narrowly escaping a collision with a boy who was rushing from the table on the left to the table on the right. Her bare feet made soft patter sounds on the cool stone floor as she advanced through the loud and dimly lit room quickly. The sweet smell of water pipes mixed in the air, making her feel perfectly at home. It had been two years since she had sat with her brother in the large tent of her tribe, smoking and drinking. Two very long years.
It wasn't that Kisara didn't like becoming a priestess-in-training. She loved being special (after all, she had always been second to her brother in the skill of the sword). It was simply, that she never received the understanding at the Sacred Temple like she did at home. Her tribe was one of the more nomadic, always moving, always travelling. They stopped from one oasis to another, living solely on the land and what it had to offer. The other clans, most of them traded with the locals, not being fully traditional.
Kisara missed her family. Her tribe. At the Temple, they rarely smoked and almost never travelled, making the place quite unlike her home. Simply, she wished to see her brother as soon as she woke up and she missed the long nights when they sat in the crow's nest, making sure that no rogues or bandits attacked their ships. She was a Wanderer through and through, and she missed the actual wandering that they did across the sandy planes.
The teen reached her goal, finding the very uncommon tuft of red hair sticking out like a sore thumb among her fellow clan members. Surprisingly, the leader of the shinobi wasn't sitting next to the translator that he had brought, but next to her own brother. On his other side was the Noble Donkey, as her clan had named him, attempting to ignore her people sitting everywhere around him.
Kisara quickly gave him a once over. He was taller than the red haired shinobi, but not by much. And, he was older than him. The clothes that he was wearing didn't resemble the well-known shinobi style that Kisara had studied. No, they were a more vibrant color, in richer material, tailored to suit him and him only. The edges were well-kept and the fabric unruffled. When looking from one to the other shinobi, no one would connect them as those of the same village, much less the same party.
The young priestess-in-training tapped one of her clansmen on the shoulder and he moved a bit to the right, giving her space to plop down in an un-ladylike manner. She grinned at the obviously confused red haired shinobi, who was looking from one speaking Wanderer to the next, trying to catch the topic of the conversation. However, the Wanderer tongue was too different from the Common one, making it impossible for one who hadn't studied it to understand.
"Gaara well?" She asked, smiling at the shinobi. The noble next to him gave a small gasp, as if offended himself. Gaara looked up, the pale eyes meeting her dark ones. He seemed to think over her question for a second and Kisara scolded herself for not paying more attention in language class. She knew that her grammar was terrible, but at least she understood most of what they spoke. But, Eileen was better. She was always better. In everything except dance.
"I'm fine, and you?" The Kage answered, his tone unusually deep for someone so young. The Noble Donkey was still giving Kisara an incredulous look for speaking to the Kazekage in such a disrespectful manner. Then, he gave one to the redhead himself, for answering such a blatant and lowly question.
"Good. I is good." The Wanderer girl nodded happily, as if her birthday had come early. "Gaara understands Wanderer tongues?" She stumbled over the bigger words, pronouncing them in a much softer way than they should be pronounced, but he understood.
"Not a lot. I can understand the basic topic that they were talking about, mostly from their body language and a couple of words that I know." He spoke in an indifferent tone, surprising the noble beside him with the length of the words. There were many things by which their Kazekage was known by, and his lack of conversational skills was one of them.
"I sees." The Wanderer girl nodded. "Wanderer tongue not that hard. Very easy. But different from Common. Common very hard. I learns and learns, but not knows." Kisara laughed it off with a smile and a shake of her head. The youth next to Gaara finally broke off from his conversation with the tall warrior at the other table and turned, only to have the hugest smile on his face.
Gaara sat there in shock as Lim jumped up onto his nimble legs and yelled out in Wanderer tongue to Kisara. She laughed at him, replying and then stood to embrace him over the table. Then, they plopped back down and sat in silence for a second, before laughing again. It was then when Gaara began to see the similarities. He must've missed them earlier because of the drastic difference in their hair color.
Lim and Kisara had a very similar way of laughing, almost the same. They threw their heads back, laughing with their full lungs without restraint. Their grins were wide, almost identical, reminding Gaara of his friend from Konoha. The way that Lim sat, one leg folded and the other bent at the knee, as if he was the head of the table, and the way that his hands wouldn't keep still when he talked. It was clearly mimicked by Kisara. They were either close relatives, grown up together or brother and sister.
"Gaara!" The mischievous youth turned to him. "Kisara." He introduced clumsily. "Sister." He pointed at himself. The Kage gave a nod silently. However, Kisara caught Lim's attention once more, speaking a long line of soft and non-understandable words in Wanderer tongue. Lim's eyes widened in recognition and he turned to Gaara with a smile, nodding. Obviously, he had found out that the shinobi already knew his sister from before.
"Gaara?" Kisara asked, and the Kage suddenly felt uncomfortable a tad. He was used to being the center of attention. He was the village's Kazekage, after all. It was normal for him to give one or two speeches in public a week, with everyone staring at him. But, he wasn't used to this kind of attention. "Tells us Spirit World adventure?"
Now, it wasn't only the siblings. At least five or six Wanderers from Chaizen's clan were staring at him intently, waiting. However, there was no reservation in their eyes. No fear. He wasn't a monster here. He wasn't a demon that could kill them in a second. He was simply a shinobi, whom they had strangely enough accepted, who would tell them a story. When a white haired teen from the table next to them stumbled over as well, squatting next to Kisara, Gaara felt something for the first time. He felt his cheeks flooding with unusual warmth and he wished for the ground to open and swallow him whole.
Of course, he could've escaped if he had wanted to, but it wouldn't have been very appropriate. A Kage running away from a couple of teenagers looking for a story. If the Council got wind of such a story he wouldn't be able to show his face again. And Temari would be unbearable as well. She knew that he always shied away from the Academy, almost fearing the way that the kids would treat him. But, his sister was kind, despite her usual teasing. She would let the matter rest after a couple of months. Kankuro, though. He would be terrible.
Gaara grit his teeth, making an uneasy decision and opened his mouth to begin his story, which would no doubt have sounded like a mission report, when the room suddenly went silent. The eager Wanderers from the nearby tables quickly scampered to their original seats and Gaara found himself releasing a tiny sigh of relief. Lim must've noticed his nervous demeanor, as the youth patted his knee with a knowing smirk.
The High Priestess was on her feet, at the far table, all the way down the large room. The crystals in her coal black hair reflected the light of the many fires and shone like stars in the midnight sky. She wore her special ceremonial robes, in white and red, decorated with golden swirls. Gaara didn't know much about clothes, but remembering Temari's wardrobe, the dress and kimono were exaggerated. None of the Suna women would dare wear something so colorful and bold. They would look ridiculous. But, the Priestess looked just as breathtaking as she always did.
She began speaking, her pale eyes going from one end of the room to another. Her voice was melodic and soothing, and Gaara found himself relaxing despite the fact that he couldn't understand a word that she was saying. He glanced about, searching for Shura, but he couldn't spot her short and messy ponytail anywhere.
Then, the Priestess stopped talking and a man with white hair stood up. There was clapping and cheering from the crowd. He was a young lad, a tad older than Gaara. There was a silver tattoo all the way down his bare back and he was grinning confidently. He raised his arms in a victorious motion and everybody clapped harder.
"Kazekage-sama, do you know what it going on?" Toru whispered to him with distaste and a hint of fear. But, there was curiosity in his eyes, as they didn't leave the young man who sat back down. Gaara gave a small shake of his head and shamelessly poked Lim's side with his elbow. The young Wanderer stopped whistling with both his hands on his mouth and turned to the Kage.
"Great warrior!" He yelled over the noise, bending towards the redhead. "Spirit touch and celebrate!" He pointed to his own hair. "White!" Gaara gave a nod, sitting straighter in his original position. He had absolutely no idea what the youth had wanted to explain to him. Toru gave him an inquisitive stare, waiting for information, but Gaara merely ignored him. He was good at that. As he expected, the young noble left it alone.
A few more names were called out and a similar greeting followed the proud men before the Grand Priestess finally spoke in a language that Gaara could understand. "After much consideration, the Wandering Clans have agreed." The two leaders locked eyes for a long second. "Gaara, Kazekage of the Sand, I name you friend of the Wandering Tribes and welcome you with open arms for as long as your intentions stay pure."
"Gaara stands up." Kisara's whisper broke the connection between the two leaders and the redheaded Kage rose. There was clapping all around, much more modest than the ones for the people before. Gaara noticed Chaizen's laughter and booming clapping among the others. Lim whistled loudly from next to him. Toru looked about ready to faint, his jaw dropping.
"We will give you a Wanderer to be our representative in your Village." The woman paused for a second. "I will accept one of the shinobi into my Temple, to mediate between our communities." There was a loud murmur across the room. The Priestess waited before speaking again. "These are the things that we have agreed on." She then took out a familiar parchment from her robes and began reading in Wanderer tongue. Gaara knew all that was written there. The two leaders had drawn out the agreement the previous day.
"Do you agree to this, leader of the shinobi?"
"Yes." Gaara spoke, his cold monotone causing a couple of Wanderers to jump in surprise. "For as long as I am the Kazekage I will protect this agreement unless need arises to break it." The Priestess gave him a gentle smile and then spoke in Wanderer tongue for a bit longer. Then, she turned to him again.
"I declare this the Time of Peace within Kaze no Kuni."
Silence ensued. And then, Chaizen began clapping. Lim, Kara, Kisara and Sul (the last without much enthusiasm) joined him. Soon, the Hall was bursting with the sounds of Wanderers laughing, clapping and generally celebrating. Gaara allowed a tiny smile to slip onto his face. Being a Kage was quite the hassle, but for these moments, it was more than worth the trouble.
The Priestess raised her hands again, silencing the room in mere seconds. "I would now like the candidates for out Ambassadors to be submitted. The terms of eligibility are: conversational Common tongue, skill in one of our arts and general knowledge of the politics of our nation."
Gaara sat down, smirking. She had basically just invited the best of the best to apply for being an envoy. Being skilled in one of the arts meant that one had to either be a Priest or Priestess or a Warrior chosen by the Spirits. In the end, the politics of the Wanderers were only taught to the more advanced priests and priestesses-in-training at the Temple. The woman was planning to control the Ambassador herself, which had been the two leaders' goal.
"Eileen." A male voice called out from one of the tables. Gaara easily located the white haired, tan youth and counted the number of dots under his eyes. Ten.
"That be Zed." Kisara had leaned over the table to whisper to him. Now, Gaara recognized the young man. He had been in his first meeting with the Priestess and he had seen him around the halls of the Temple later. "He lives here longest."
"Zed." A clear, female voice rang out as an unusually pale and blonde girl called out. Now, Gaara knew her. After all, her looks were quite unusual among the Wanderers. They were all tan, despite having a couple Spirit touched people.
"That be-"
"Eileen." He Kazekage interrupted Kisara with a knowing look. "She led us to our rooms." The Wanderer in front of him nodded with a bright smile. Yet, something lacked in her eyes. Gaara knew that look. He had seen it on enough people in his life. He had seen it in the mirror as well. The Wanderer was sad.
Before he could ask her why, another voice rang out, calling a name that he didn't know. And so, it continued for a while. Gaara sat, looking from one person to the other, learning bits and pieces about them or their clans from Kisara.
"Alright. I have recorded the names and we will have a popularity vote to choose the Ambassador." The Priestess said, and then repeated the words in Wanderer tongue.
"Kisara." A tiny voice rang out from the back, cutting off the end of the words of the beautiful woman. Gaara located the little speaker with a bit of difficulty. She was a dark haired girl, barely ten years old, and her face was red from embarrassment, almost hiding her single dot of apprenticeship.
Gaara looked at the person in question as the Priestess spoke up again. Then, Lim stood up quickly, saying something in an angry tone. Gaara's eyes flittered from Kisara's shocked face to Lim's angry one. That was when chatter exploded and many of the Wanderers stood, complaining. The Kage looked to Kisara, but she was staring at the small girl who had nominated her with shock, pride and thankfulness.
Then, something happened which sent a chill down the Kage's spine and caused the sand lying around him to tremble with the charge of his Chakra. Behind the Priestess a rip opened in the air, and numerous arms came from it, creating the image of the woman owning more than two hands. An ear splitting roar sounded through the Hall and Gaara caught a glimpse of a masked face in the rip. It was a humanoid Spirit, which towered over the head of the beautiful woman.
Silence filled the Hall and as she spoke, her tone as calm as earlier, as if nothing had happened, the rip in the air vanished, taking the Spirit with it. As Lim lowered himself to his seat, shock on his face, Gaara elbowed him for an explanation. The youth swallowed, eyes still wide as he turned to murmur to the Kazekage.
"Ari." His head moved in a pointing motion towards the small girl in the back. "No good vote. Too young at Temple." In this moment, Gaara was so glad that he had been very insistent on teaching Lim as many common words as possible. "Kisara Common no good. Kisara Gaara go no good. Kisara three vote, Kisara good."
Gaara nodded at the still shaken looking youth, processing the words. As far as he had connected, because of Ari's young age and recent joining to the Temple, she couldn't vote in a person. Other than that, it was obvious that Kisara didn't possess the conversational skills needed for the job. And in the end, she needed three votes? No, she should vote three times? To become good? That part, he had missed.
Then, to his surprise, Shura stood up with a large smile on her face. She connected a long line on Wanderer words and the Kage caught Ari's and Kisara's name. After her, Chaizen stood from his space a couple of seats down from Gaara and said something. Lastly, the boy who had voted first, Zed, stood and spoke.
At the end of the ordeal, the young Wanderer in front of the Kage looked just about ready to cry.
That's all folks!
A little bit of info: I have actually been to Egypt recently on an internship (via AIESEC, a very good student organization, if anyone is into that stuff). This story was really inspired a lot by my fantasies of how the Arabic countries are (were, etc) and I was very happy that I could see some resemblance (a lot, if we are looking at it in an idealistic way). Other than that, I was very inspired by the trip :D
As for the scene with Gaara attempting to understand Wanderer tongue, I actually had that happen to me a lot in Egypt. The women working at the Nursery that I was doing marketing for knew very little English, so they would talk to each other quite fast during breakfast, leaving me to figure out on my own what they were saying xD
Now then, we are almost leaving the Temple! I'm so excited to get back to Sunaaaaa with the story! I was originally planning only to have a couple of chapters of this (3-4), but I ended up explaining and describing a lot of things xD
Now then, for the reviews:
cathyscloud9: Thank you for sticking with my story despite my painfully slow updates xD I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
The Kazekage of Suna: Good to see that you are still reading :) Thanks for the praise :D
lilyoftheval5: Thank you very much! Gaara tends to be a handful at times, but I do my best with his prickly personality :) I'm always worrying about him being OOC, though xD
The world is a tad complicated, so I needed to take some time and drag out the first couple of chapters :( But, I'm glad that you're enjoying my effort instead of being bored with the lack of shinobi-business :D I will be putting some of that in soon enough :D
Hope to hear from you soon!