He Helped
"Look out below!" hollered Kankuro, throwing himself from the cliff top into the water below. He made a giant splash, part of which doused nine-year-old Gaara standing in the shallows. The black-circled eyes narrowed, but with irritation instead of malice. For the moment, Kankuro wasn't afraid that Gaara would go berserk. How could anyone in Sunagakure who had the chance to go swimming—swimming!—possibly be in a bad mood?
"Quit being so childish, Kankuro," Temari said loftily. She was still perched at the top of the cliff, busily sewing a huge, carefully designed sheet of fabric. Every so often, she stopped to size the material between two long pieces of wood.
"Lighten up, Temari," he grumbled back. "How often does it rain around here? This is the chance of a lifetime! Besides, since when do you want to sit around doing crafts instead of having fun?" He stroked over to Gaara, wondering if he had the guts to duck his brother. He decided he didn't.
"For your information, this will be a weapon worthy of a shinobi," Temari snapped, displaying her unfinished work for them to see. "We're getting apprenticed next year, you know. It's time we started acting like it."
"Whatever," Kankuro grunted. He flipped onto his back and glided through the water, relishing its coldness. This basin had become a temporary oasis in the desert, and he was going to make the most of it, even if Temari insisted on working and Gaara refused to join in. "Hey," he muttered to himself. "Why am I getting weighed down? What's—?" Then his head went under, and he started to sink.
He gagged and quickly began to hold his breath. What was pulling him down? He wriggled, trying to get free, then realized what it was. His puppet case! It must have filled with water. Why hadn't he taken it off? How could he have been so stupid?
His body was desperate for air. He wasn't used to holding his breath this long. He had to get free now. But what was so easy on land was an impossible struggle underwater. The ties for the case just wouldn't come loose. In a last-ditch effort, Kankuro began searching his pockets for a kunai knife. He would cut the case apart, puppet and all, if he had to.
Then the lake's bottom bubbled up to meet him. Wet sand pooled under him to create a makeshift platform, and he shot to the surface with such speed that he was knocked flat by the force of it. He came up out of the water lying on his stomach and gasping for breath. Temari and Gaara were waist-deep in the water nearby.
"Nice job, Gaara," Temari complimented him. "At least one of my brothers isn't a total idiot." Belying her careless insult, she bent down to peer at her older brother. "Are you all right, Kankuro?" she asked.
"Y-yeah," Kankuro coughed. "Th-thanks, Gaara. You saved me."
"I had to," Gaara replied, shrugging. Kankuro was surprised by his statement. It may have been the nicest thing his brother had said to him in many years. He found out Gaara's real intent, however, as his brother went on, "We can't make a three-man cell without you." Gaara eyed him emotionlessly before wading out of the lake.
Kankuro was left wondering if his brother was truly as heartless as he seemed.