Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Special Thanks: goes out to Glitterthorn, rao hyuga 18, DarkAnonymous324, and runjumpfly07 for all your wonderful, thoughtful reviews! You all literally brighten my day whenever I read one of your reviews. And also thank you to everyone who's put this story on their favorie and alert lists!

Author's Note: A really long chapter, this. And the first and the final scenes are some of my favorites in the whole fic - I just love the emotions involved in each, and I really hope you all love them too. Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!


*~Chapter XI~*

~Brothers~


"D-do you think he'll b-be there?" Hinata stood just inside the doors giving onto the verandah from her darkened sitting room. She stared out into the near-midnight dimness of the gardens, fingertips tapping together in a nerve-frazzling rhythm.

"He'll be there," Tenten said with a confidence she was far from feeling. She finished fastening her sandal straps and straightened to look back at Hinata from the verandah; started to say something else; wound up just giving an awkward little shrug instead. Hinata nodded slightly in understanding.

The moon, waning down to its last quarter, gave just enough light for Tenten to identify the landmarks she needed to find the hidden gazebo again. Though leached of their vibrant daytime colors, the roses swathing the little structure still flooded the muggy air in the clearing with a nearly palpable fog of fragrance. Her senses swam for a few brief seconds, as though she were suddenly short of air: either from the onslaught of scent or from tense expectation. Fighting the urge to gasp for breath, she positioned herself in clear view of the gazebo's entrance, halfway between it and the living wall around it.

"Hello," she called, her voice barely above a whisper. "Lord Neji - are you there?" Deep inside her a beat of pleasepleaseplease throbbed in time with her racing heartbeat.

A dark form stirred, detaching itself from the blackness; not of the interior but of the thick shadows thrown to one side of the building by the moonlight slipping into the clearing. "I told you not to call me that," he said just as softly, halting after only a couple of steps and looking past her, his colorless eyes gleaming as white as the bandages above them. She saw he carried his left arm clamped across his diaphragm, his right elbow supported by it. His clenched right hand rested on his shoulder next to his neck.

"I know." Tenten bowed. "But - it's who you are."

A shudder ran the length of Neji's lean body. A frail thread of light shivered along the edge of something gripped in his fist, catching her eye. Tenten's breath rushed out of her in a horrified gasp as she realized he grasped a knife. Even as her mind frantically ran down multiple tracks of how to disarm him before he could cut his own throat, she saw his eyes briefly focus on her as if really seeing her, and wander past her again. "You really - are - alone," he said in a vague, dreamy tone.

"Yes, I am," she said very gently. Her heart wrenched in pity and, oddly, admiration as she realized why he seemed so detached. Having fully committed himself to dying, he now faced the unexpected choice of reconciling himself to living. From the stories her brother had told her, not everyone who had resolved on suicide was capable of making that difficult step back. She carefully took a step closer to him, another when he didn't react, and extended her hand. "Please believe me. I came alone, Neji, just as Hinata's letter said I would."

His gaze returned to search her face, eyes locking onto hers with such intensity she felt as though looking away would be instantly fatal to him. Very slowly he lowered his right hand, the knife dropping from his loosening hold. He suddenly swayed. Tenten leapt forward and caught him as his knees wobbled under him. She heard him take in a great, gasping gulp of air as he continued to sag. His weight became too much for her, bearing her to her knees. As she braced them both as best she could his bandaged forehead drooped onto her shoulder, arhythmic shudders shaking him. It took a moment for her to realize he was silently sobbing.

Feeling close to tears herself Tenten wrapped her arms a little more tightly around Neji, her hold on him subtly shifting from bracing to embracing. She turned her head so she could rest her cheek against his mane of dark hair, her lips close to his ear. "It's okay, Neji, you're not alone any more," she whispered. "You are, as you have always been, Hinata's beloved big brother. It will take some time, but I promise you: Everything is going to be all right."


Sharp hisses of controlled breathing, bare feet whispering across tatami, and flesh smacking flesh wove together, filling the dojo with an exhilerating, primal beat. Itachi and Sasuke glided apart for an instant, the former poised lightly on the balls of his feet, the latter bouncing slightly on his, both pairs of intense black eyes probing for an opening. Sasuke, with a final bounce, launched an attack. Itachi easily blocked, whirled, countered with a round kick that would have crushed Sasuke's skull had it connected. He stopped his foot so close to his brother's face the dark wing of hair hanging over his temple was tossed briefly by the breeze it generated.

"You're dead again," he said mildly, retracting his foot and setting it down with elegant precision.

Sasuke flopped onto the matting and collapsed backward. "Yeah. I noticed."

Itachi folded down into a crosslegged position next to him and rested his elbows on his knees. For a time neither man said anything else as they let their breathing and heartrates return to normal, the occasional crosscurrent of air from the wide open shouji brushing cooling fingers over their bare, sweaty torsos.

Finally Sasuke sighed and sat part of the way up, bracing himself with his hands on the mat behind him. "Too good, older brother," he said. "You are just too good."

"I don't know about that," Itachi replied. "You've just picked up some bad habits."

"Like wasting too much time and energy hopping around, and telegraphing my next move." Sasuke grimaced, adding in a lower voice, "I thought I'd taken care of that."

Itachi reached over to grab his brother's knee and give it a brief shake. "We've only been working out together again for less than two weeks. I've seen a huge improvement in your technique during that time."

"And now you're going to Suna." Sasuke stared fixedly at his own toes.

Itachi chuckled. "You make it sound as though I'm leaving Konoha forever. Sasuke, you've probably got more potential than I had at your age." His brother's astonished gaze snapped over to lock on his face. "If you really want to start living up to it, you need to train with Nobuo-sensei," he kept his tone matter-of-fact as he referred to their older cousin, the second-in-command of the Konoha police and chief of the elite special forces squad, "while I'm away."

The look on Sasuke's face turned to one of pure horror as he sat up straight. "Nobuo- sensei! I, uh, I thought he was going to Suna with you."

"No, I'm taking Aoba and Raijin."

"Oh." Sasuke looked away. When he spoke again, Itachi could hear the effort he put into keeping his voice neutral. "Already talked to him about this, have you?"

"No. You're your own man now. It's your decision whether you take my advice or not."

Apparently unaware of what he was doing Sasuke pulled his legs under him to mirror Itachi's pose. "He despises me even more than Fa-" He broke off, flushing deeply as the unspoken name twisted in the air between them.

"Nobuo-sensei doesn't despise you, Sasuke," Itachi said firmly. "If you decide to go talk to him, though, I promise you he will respect you for it." He grinned faintly and tried for a lighter tone. "You've already bearded one dragon in his den, younger brother: Why not make it two for two?"

Sasuke slanted a look at him through his thick lashes. "Oh, but I never really considered you a dragon, older brother," he murmured wickedly, making no attempt to dodge the shove that sent him tumbling over sideways. Tucking his hands beneath his head, he drew up his left leg and crossed the right one over it. "Okay, I'll do it. I suppose it won't matter if I'm in a full body cast when I meet Lady Hinata for the first time this weekend."

"That might not be such a bad thing. From what I've heard, the ladies can't resist a wounded warrior." Itachi glanced at the sunlight slanting onto the tatami. Getting to his feet and going to pick up the discarded jacket of his gi he added, "I'm for the bath house. What about you?"

"I think I'll run through my kata a couple more times. See you at dinner this evening."


All Itachi had ever heard or read about Suna and its enclosing ring wall of natural rock failed to prepare him for his first sight of the real thing towering from the flat desert around it.

"Do you see that dark line running up the face, Lord Itachi?" Aoba asked as the three of them reined their horses in from a gentle canter to a walk. "That fissure is the only way in or out of the village. When we get a little closer, we'll be able to see the defensive works carved into the cliffs on either side of it."

"Very impressive," Itachi agreed, not voicing the fact he also thought it very grim. Temari's words came back to him: ". . .Suna isn't anything like Konoha. It's hot, dry, and mostly brown. . ."

Baki, astride a dun horse, was waiting at the entrance to the narrow cleft when Itachi's party reached it. "Welcome to Suna, Lord Itachi," he said, a smile on the visible half of his face. Wheeling his mount around, he fell in next to Itachi while Aoba and Raijin brought up the rear and maintained a casual flow of small talk as he escorted them through the intimidating crack in the rock, then around the perimeter of the village to the Sabaku estate. Only the blue of the sky above them broke the pervasiveness brown-ness closing in around them.

As Itachi politely responded to Baki's comments and questions, a knot of tension began to grow inside his chest the closer they got to their destination. Would Temari be there to welcome him? he wondered.

But when they entered the courtyard of the estate and dismounted, his betrothed was nowhere to be seen. Instead an older man - introduced as the steward of the Sabaku - greeted him and took him in charge, two lesser servants waiting to receive his baggage. Sealing his disappointment behind a polite facade, he allowed himself to be shown to the quarters prepared for him. As they traveled the halls of the main house, he marveled at how different the decor was from Konoha's. Instead of the generous use of bright color which along with many shouji and thinner walls created an atmosphere of open airiness, in Suna the dominating colors of browns, blacks, and dark reds, thick walls and small windows located near the ceiling made for a darker, more formal atmosphere.

Itachi's quiet assertion that he would do his own unpacking was, by the quickly stifled reactions of the Sabaku staff, evidently unexpected. "You should have ample time to refresh yourself from your journey, my lord," the steward said just before bowing himself out. "You are invited to dine this evening with Lady Temari and her brothers, Lord Gaara and Lord Kankuro. It is served sharply at six." His tone suggested that Itachi not be late. "I will send someone to guide you at the appropriate time."

"Thank you," Itachi said. Once he was alone he looked around his suite: different shades of brown predominated, accented with touches of dark burgundy and black. As he unpacked, he wondered if the morose atmosphere of the decor would seep into his dreams, which had been unsettling enough on their own the past two weeks. He kept hoping Temari would come by, but tried to stave off feelings of disappointment by telling himself it really wouldn't have been considered proper in Konoha either for an unmarried woman to drop by a gentleman's room.

After bathing off the grime of his journey Itachi carefully dressed in the five pieces of the formal three-kamon kimono he'd had the foresight to pack: dark navy blue with pristine white undergarments and accessories. All he could do then was wait until the servant arrived at the appointed time to escort him to dinner.

Temari was already in the dining room when he arrived, conversing with a brunette man slightly taller than her and dressed in unrelieved black. She wore her customary deep purple; the long sleeveless vest and scarf she also wore, unique to Suna fashion, were both of lightweight, cream colored silk. Her unopened fan was tucked into her obi.

As if sensing his gaze, she turned to face him. A polite smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she drifted toward him and gracefully bowed. "Lord Itachi! I'm so glad you arrived safely. It's nice to see you again. You had a good journey from Konoha?" She lifted her turquoise eyes to his, their expression clear but distant.

Hiding how let down he felt by her welcome Itachi bowed in return. "Yes, thank you. It is wonderful to see you as well. I must tell you, although I've seen one so far on my way here, I agree that Suna sunsets are truly breathtaking."

Temari smiled again, angling her body sideways as she indicated the other man, who had come closer to them. "Itachi, this is my brother next to me in age, Sabaku Kankuro. Kankuro, this is my - betrothed, Uchiha Itachi." She stumbled over the words slightly, her cheeks flushing pink.

Kankuro bowed slightly. "I've heard a lot about you from my sister, but it's nice to finally meet you in person," he said.

"My lady told me about you, too. I'm glad to be able to put a face to the stories." Itachi returned the bow while wondering desperately, Is the whole evening going to be this formal and stilted? Will the whole week be this way?

But his spirits lightened when Kankuro suddenly grinned and lightly bumped his sister with a good-natured elbow. "I hope you only told him the good things, big sister."

Rolling her eyes and obviously trying to keep from smiling, Temari pushed her brother away. "That's for me to know and you to find out when I blackmail you." Turning back to Itachi, she said, "My younger brother, Gaara, has been held up slightly by a meeting, but he should be here-"

"Immediately," a slightly raspy male voice finished. A tall, thin figure dressed in dark russet and black came into the room. Disconcerting light green eyes swept them all before finally settling on Itachi. "My apologies for being late." His lips only moved enough to form the words before settling back into a tight, unsmiling line.

Itachi immediately noticed the blood-red tattoo half-hidden by a stray lock of loose reddish-brown hair - the kanji for love - before letting his gaze to drift down as he bowed, smiling slightly. "Not at all, my lord."

"This is my younger brother, Sabaku Gaara: The head of our family and our village." Respect, awe, and a touch of pride filled Temari's voice as she spoke. "Gaara, may I present Uchiha Itachi, your future brother by marriage."

Those unblinking sage green eyes met Itachi's dark ones unflinchingly, staring as if to uncover all of his thoughts with that one long, intense look. "Temari has spoken of you often," he said. "Welcome to Suna, Lord Itachi. I hope your stay will be pleasant."

As the four of them took their places around the table and silent retainers served the first course, Itachi keenly felt how far away he was from home. He missed his family, especially Sasuke. Since Gaara's arrival the briefly playful, easy atmosphere between Temari and Kankuro had vanished, replaced by a tense uneasiness. The first few minutes of the meal passed in uncomfortable silence. Are things always like this when the siblings are together, or is it my presence that's causing this discomfort?

At last, Kankuro cleared his throat and broke the silence, his voice loud and slightly jarring after the stillness. "So, Itachi, how long are you planning on staying?"

"A week only," Itachi replied. "As with Temari's visit to Konoha, clan duties do not permit a longer sojourn."

"Oh!" Kankuro lifted his chopsticks again and grinned. "Still, that should give me plenty of time to show you around." He winked. "Unless, of course, you plan to spend all of your time with Temari."

Temari nearly choked on the drink of tea she'd just taken. Gaara's glower shifted into a glare, but Kankuro continued to grin, seeming unaffected by his siblings' reactions. Itachi felt his face grow slighty warm and cursed his blush, thinking, He's more of a kid than Sasuke, I'm sure he didn't mean that the way it sounded! "I put my trust in all three of you to show me the best places in your village," he said diplomatically.

Kankuro lit up. "Great! I've got to take you to see the puppet show! I designed or actually made most of them, you know, there's a story behind every single one-"

"Kankuro!" Temari's chopsticks suddenly clattered from her fingers onto her plate, and her brother winced a little. "Those puppets of yours are so childish. Lord Itachi outgrew such things a long time ago. And the way you treat them - like they're real people!" Her right hand shook as she lifted it to brush her forehead, as if to ease some pain. "Please, I simply can't deal with it this week," she whispered, seeming to be on the verge of tears.

Itachi's free hand curled into a fist in his lap as he resisted his instinctive impulse to reach out to her in concern, knowing from how tense she looked he'd only make it worse. His eyes flicked to Gaara, wondering how the silent sibling would react to the unexpected drama.

The leader of Suna sat clutching his chopsticks so tightly his knuckles showed white, his posture rigid. His eyes shifted uneasily from Kankuro to Temari and back again, before snapping over to meet Itachi's. He held the Uchiha's gaze for a long moment, then finally looked down at his own basically untouched dinner. "Excuse me," he said. Setting down his utensils with exacting care, he abruptly stood and left the table, exiting through the same door he'd entered.

Kankuro sighed and excused himself as well, taking off after his younger brother. That left Temari and Itachi alone, sitting side by side in the sudden, ear-ringing silence.

"I'm sorry," Itachi said cautiously at last. "I didn't meant to-"

"It wasn't you," Temari interrupted absently. Pushing her plate away, she avoided his gaze as she cradled her cup of tea. "I just... It's..." She trailed off, shaking her head helplessly, and stared sightlessly at the wall across from where they sat.

The few bites Itachi had eaten lay in his stomach like hot chunks of lead. "I never meant to cause you distress, milady. I will leave immediately to return home."

That got her attention. Temari turned toward him, turquiose eyes wide. "I said it wasn't you!" she protested. "Please, Itachi, there's no reason for you to leave. Unless, of course," she added in a low voice as she looked away and set down her cup, "you really want to go. I would understand." Standing, she took a few steps away from the table before pausing with her back to him.

Itachi left the table as well and went to stand behind her, keeping just out of her personal space. "Temari, please answer me one question, and I beg honesty," he said. "Is one of your brothers-" he paused briefly, wondering how to phrase such a delicate thing, but then decided that being honest would be best since he was asking the same of her "-abusing you? Hitting you?"

She flinched visibly, shoulders tightening. Her eyes darted toward the doorway through which Gaara and Kankuro had disappeared, then to the door across the room through which the servants entered and left. "Come with me," she said, voice heavy with something that sounded very much like defeat. "We cannot speak in private here."

Chafing with impatience while keeping his rising anger with her brothers tightly in check, Itachi followed his sand princess through halls he had not yet seen. She led him up a long twisting staircase, pushing open the heavy door at the top. Air thick with humidity and the mingled scents of damp earth and growing things flowed out to wrap around them. He blinked in surprise. They were in a small greenhouse, full to bursting with beautiful, lush greenery and hundreds of colorful flowers. It almost felt like a piece of Konoha had been transplanted to Suna.

Temari didn't so much as glance at any of the luxuriant plants. Instead, once she'd closed the door, she crossed straight to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the courtyard below, tension still singing in every line of her body. At last she let out a long sigh, shoulders slumping with the motion. "You're not going to let this go, are you?" she asked.

Itachi stepped closer so he could see her face, even if from only one side. "No," he said softly but firmly. "Despite the fact that our marriage is arranged, you are my affianced wife. It is my prerogative and privilege to protect you, to treat you with the utmost courtesy and respect even if love never enters into it. If you are being mistreated by anyone in any way, it stops now."

She turned to face him fully, chin up as she met his eyes squarely. "Then to answer your question bluntly," she said strongly, "no. Neither Kankuro nor Gaara has ever raised their hand against me. They would never ever consider doing so."

The aching worry in Itachi's chest eased a little, but Sasuke's observations refused to be so easily dismissed. Another, even more terrible, suspicion slithered into his mind. "Then I apologize for accusing your brothers unjustly. If," he saw her eyes turn wary, "you can honestly assure me there is nothing - wrong - that will affect our future together, I will never mention it again."

Temari gave him a long, flat stare. Itachi, long used to Fugaku's staredowns, returned her gaze imperturbably. A tiny crease appeared between her eyebrows. She glanced away. "I - can't do that," she said dully. "In all honesty-" her lips twisted "-you deserve to know." Folding her arms across her midriff, she went on, "For our father, Mother was always the single bright star in his universe. If not for her he would have ignored Kankuro and me completely. I was only his 'little girl,' Kankuro his 'little man' because Mother loved us and would not exclude us from her life. But then she became pregnant with Gaara, and something ... went terribly wrong. My little brother was born months prematurely, it's a miracle he didn't die. Mother - did die giving birth to him."

That horrible feeling suddenly got ten times worse. Itachi found he could barely breathe as he waited for Temari to continue.

"Mother's death caused Father to ... snap. Something in his mind just broke. He was never the same after that. He blamed Gaara for my mother's death. It made no difference to him that Gaara was a completely defenseless tiny baby." She paused and took several rapid breaths before going on. "Father tried three times to kill him before he'd even come home from the hospital."

Itachi's hands unconsciously clenched into fists as he forced himself to stand still. He wanted nothing more than to go to her, to comfort her. But at the same time he sensed on some deep level that, now she'd begun the process, she needed to finish it on her own.

Temari fixed her eyes on a spot somewhere behind him. "As head of the village and according to the law he was within his rights. Fortunately the hospital staff had the courage to put their sacred oaths as healers above his sick desire for vengeance. The household guard, on the other hand- When we brought Gaara home, Kankuro and I agreed to do whatever we had to do to protect him. I was four, and Kankuro three, yet we knew what Father wanted to do wasn't right."

Her voice broke as a great shudder ran from her head down to her feet. Once again, Itachi fought down the urge to stop her, to tell her she didn't need to relive any more of it. For she was very clearly back within that living nightmare, mentally if not physically.

"I still remember that night." Her voice came as from a distance, hard and tight as it was with unshed tears. "As well as keeping him with us throughout the day Kankuro and I always took turns sleeping with Gaara, caring for him and protecting him even into his toddler years. Every time Father tried to kill him, we - we threw ourselves between him and Gaara. He would stop and go away until the next attempt. But that night...

"Our rooms were on either side Gaara's, with a door between so either one of us could get there quickly just in case we were needed during the night. Kankuro was staying with Gaara because I was ill. His yelling wakened me; that, and the sound of Gaara crying. I leaped out of bed. I remember pulling the door off its track in my haste to get to them. Kankuro was crumpled up on the floor, whimpering in pain and terror - the blow that knocked him out of the way had also broken his jaw. Father stood over Gaara." Her voice began to shake. "Even after so many years, I still can't forget the look on his face as he raised a knife over my little brother. Gaara was curled up in an impossibly tiny ball on his bed, clutching his battered old teddy bear. Crying, screaming, unable to understand why- He was only four years old at the time."

Itachi's fists were so tight his fingers had gone numb, what he was hearing so immeasurably worse than anything he could ever have imagined.

"I ran across the room, trying to get between them so he would stop, but I was eight years old and my strength no match for his. He shrugged me off, shoving me all the way back across the room, but didn't really hurt me. I guess, deep down, I was still his little girl. I saw that knife begin to descend, and - and I knew there was nothing I could do, that I was about to see my baby brother die, right there in front of me."

But Gaara is still alive, the thought wandered through Itachi's mind when she paused. Who saved him?

"My mother's brother, Yashamaru, lived with us at the time. He heard the commotion and came bursting in. He stopped my father. In the fight that followed-" Temari lowered her head and squeezed her eyes shut. "They ended by killing each other.

"Gaara was left - deeply scarred emotionally: not just by what happened the night our father and uncle died, or all the other attempts, but by the belief that maybe he deserved it. He's always been exceptionally intelligent, and had to grow up much faster than he ever should have. It has taken years to bring him to where he is now. He's still slow to trust, and beyond awkward socially- But he's trying. Even with me and Kankuro, you can see him sometimes wondering if he's done something to make us turn on him, but - he is trying to move past it all."

She took a deep breath, let out it out again on a long quivering sigh. "Kankuro and I have our share of emotional scars, too. Those puppets of his - he uses them to escape into some fantasy world. And me- Ever since I was told about our marriage, I've been - afraid. Beyond afraid, actually. My mother died in childbirth. The same thing could happen to me. And I'm terrified - if that does happen and my baby survives-" Her voice went higher and thinner, her words beginning to run together. "Father could seem so nice, kind even, when it was just him and me, or him and Kankuro, trying to persuade us to leave Gaara alone. But we knew under the niceness, under the kindness, he still plotted Gaara's death. On the surface he seemed to be a perfect gentleman, just like you, and despite myself, I am just so afraid..." Her hands lifted to her face as though to block everything - including him - out.

Itachi's self-imposed stasis broke. He closed the distance between them in two long strides. Very gently grasping her shoulders, his own face wet now from tears, he turned her into his arms. She instantly went rigid within his hold, hands dropping to flatten against his chest as if to push him away. Her head came up, her eyes wide and filled with panic.

"Temari," he said very softly, very gently, "Temari," nothing more than her name as he willed her to sense how much he desired to comfort her, to soothe her, to take away her fear. After a few moments, her gaze focused on him. An expression almost of wonder flitted through her eyes. She slowly relaxed, head falling onto his chest as she began to weep, finally allowing herself to release everything she'd held in for so many years. Her fingers curled into fists, knotting themselves into the fabric of his shirt. When her knees went out from under her, he let himself go down with her, absorbing the impact with his own body.

Consumed with a fierce tenderness unlike anything he'd ever known, Itachi curled himself around Temari protectively, cradling her on his lap as her shattering sobs eventually eased into hiccupping sniffles, then into the even breaths of utterly exhausted sleep. He knew clearly, as he held her within his sheltering arms, his cheek against her hair, the road ahead would still be far from easy. There would be setbacks as she worked through the healing process, learning to trust him as a man, as a husband, as a father. But he also knew he would do whatever it took to help her achieve that healing: Even if it tested his patience and self-control to the breaking point, and beyond.

*~To Be Continued~*

Author's Ending Notes: The first and last scenes are just so intense with the emotions involved, they're two of my favorites in the whole fic. I really hope you all enjoyed reading them, too. Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and see you for the next update!