AN: I do not own the characters, world, or show which inspired this story. Those belong to Kishimoto.
Hotaru, Hideaki, Satoru-sensei, Chieko, Kenta, Maoko, and Reona (Mother) are all my invention.

Chapter 21: The Storm

Satoru left the building feeling very tired. Although it was not yet noon, he knew that the rest of the day would be spent in contemplative rest. For two days, he had prepared himself for death. It was a grim resolution, but one he did not question. He would have refused her offer had she not pierced his armored heart with her declaration. It had emptied the air from his lungs, rendering him unable to speak.

Inwardly, he chided himself for such weakness. Had he not allowed himself to become so unsettled, he would have borne her punishment. When he made the decision to die in her place, he believed it was only because her errant behavior was a direct reflection of his poor tutelage. Therefore, he was dishonored. But after she whispered her plea, it dawned on him that through the years, she really had become his little girl.

Gaara's clever political maneuvering took them all by complete surprise, so he no longer feared for her life. Still, could he have taken her current punishment as well? It seemed so much harsher than even he expected. But it was not unjust.

The wind bit at his face harshly, its movement emphasized by the flecks of sand it carried. He shaded his eyes from the sun and looked up at the sky. With concern, he noted that the birds which usually circled above were nowhere to be seen. It will storm soon.

A little girl was entertaining herself. She was seated on one of the steps, her head resting on her knees, playing a make-shift game of marbles with some pebbles.

"Chieko," he called. "What are you doing there?"
"Sir, I was waiting for news," she said, standing up at once. He could see that she was desperately trying to hide how anxious she felt.
"Why are you alone?" he questioned.
"My sister and the others went to look for Mother," she said.
"Hn. Well, let me take you home then," he declared. It was not a request.
She quietly followed after him, fidgeting nervously with her fingers.
"My sister..." she began.
"She will not die," Satoru interrupted.
"Really! That's great! I can't wait to tell the others..." Chieko exclaimed but was again interrupted by the strict sensei her with a glare.
"You should learn how to keep your composure," he scolded. Really, did their mother raise them at all?
"I'm sorry, sir, I was just so happy," she explained dejectedly. Then, to his dismay, she began to cry.

He had no idea how to deal with crying children. Proper little children of Suna only cried in public when the were injured, and she most certainly was not injured.

"Now there, don't cry!" he said harshly.
She didn't stop.
"This is no time for your blubbering!"
The poor girl became even more upset. Sotaru was near desperation. He noted with alarm that there were some passer-biers giving her disapproving glances. The last thing he wanted was a scene.
"Listen, Chieko," he began quietly. "I know that you are happy that your sister is not going to be executed. But this is no reason to cry. Why don't you be a good girl and dry your eyes."

Chieko looked up at the severe man with reddened eyes. He was handing her a little white kerchief, trying his best to smile reassuringly but failing miserably. She couldn't help but giggle as she took the hankerchief and blew her nose. Satoru looked so funny trying to smile.
What? Now she's laughing? What a strange girl, he mused.
"Yes, sir, you are right," she said with a nod, handing him back the now soiled cloth.
He placed the messy item back in his jacket without a grimace and then took her hand.
"We need to get home soon," he told her. "There is a storm coming."
"Yes sir," she said.
"You don't have to call me sir. You can just call me Satoru," he corrected.
"Yes Satoru sir," she replied with a smile.

Hotaru sat in Gaara's office, her head bent low, desperately holding back her tears. At that moment, she almost wished for death. If she had died, at least she would have died shinobi. She had not been surprised when the council decided to make her a civilian as a punishment. What shocked her was that this was no suspension. She was not being stripped from her rank and forehead protector for a month, or even a year. No, the verdict handed down was that she would not be shinobi for the rest of her life.

It was not only the rank that was removed, but she was forbidden from practicing jutsu. She was no longer to be kunoichi either in theory or practice.This meant no more adventures out side of the city. No more working at the hospital. No more dreams of being a medical ninja. No more team Satoru. In one fell swoop, her whole life was taken from her.

What angered her the most is that no one there that knew her raised any objections. Temari certainly did not object. In fact, the only time she even spoke was when one of the younger council members criticized Konoha's "weakness." She told them quite harshly what to do and where to do it.

Satoru-sensei seemed saddened, but even he did not raise any objections. The only comfort he offered her was a pat on the shoulder. But knowing him, that was more than he generally offered. She couldn't be too angry at him. However, she hoped that she wasn't a disappointment.

But Gaara had angered her more than anyone. How dare her not stand up for her. How dare he not push for a more lenient sentence. And now his infernal calm demeanor was driving her mad. Her polished forehead protector and weapons lay on his desk, a symbolic reminder of her broken dreams.

"Hotaru," he began.
"We have nothing to discuss," she interrupted. "I have no idea why you asked me to your office in the first place."
"I brought you here to talk," he said.
"As I said, we have nothing to discuss," she replied shortly.
He sighed and stood from his desk. Slowly, he walked to one of the windows and turned his back to her, his eyes steadily grazing the buildings before him.
"Hotaru, how many people have you killed?"
It was a simple question, but one that took her completely by surprise.
"I beg your pardon?"
"How many people have you killed?"
She also stood up and made her way to his side, curiosity now mingled with anger.
"What does that have to do with anything?" She asked defensively.
"That is what we are, isn't it?" he said. Gaara then looked down at his hands and whispered, "Hundreds."
"What?"
"I have taken hundreds of lives. So many people were crushed by my hands that I don't remember how most of them look like. They have become a mass of nameless faces. But that is what we are. We shinobi are hired killers. That is all."

Hotaru looked down at his hands and raised her own in response.
"I don't think I've killed ten."
"And your companions?"
She looked away with embarrassment.
"They've lost count, I'm sure."
"Why do you think that is?" he pressed.
"I don't know what you're trying to imply. I was always the support and medic," she shot back.
"Hotaru," he replied gently. "When you were a child, did you really want to become shinobi? Was that your dream?"
Hotaru sniffed suddenly.
"No, I wanted to be a travel merchant like my uncle."
"Oh?"
"But what does that matter? Dreams can change. I've changed! Now everything that mattered to me is gone,"she yelled.

Had others watched the altercation, they would have been horrified by what happened next. She attempted to slap him on the face. Like clockwork, the sand stopped the blow and held her hand it in place. Violence against the Kazekage was considered another act of treason. Tsuande be damned, she would have died right then.
But he made no move against her. Instead, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently drew her towards him. The sand released her wrist.
"Get away!" she growled.
He didn't listen, but rather stiffly put his arms around her. She didn't hung him back. Her arms were held against her chest defensively.
"Leave me alone!" She yelled.
He began to stroke her hair. Hotaru stopped struggling and just waited for the ordeal to be over. As far as she was concerned, his affection was condescending. It shamed that only yesterday he had caught her admiring him.
"Hotaru," he said at last gently. "As Kazekage I must think of what is best for my people."
She tried to struggle against his grip.
"Listen to me," he said more forcefully. "I care about you very much. You are my friend. But I have to put my personal feelings aside. I would have rescinded their judgment if I could because I know how much being shinobi means to you. But I could not.
Their reasoning is correct. You have shown that you are not dispassionate enough to be shinobi. Maybe that is why he sought you. Sasuke was always good at analyzing others."
She stiffened at his words.
"You are too compassionate and trusting. One day, you may place your teammates in danger because of it," he continued.
"Then why didn't you at least let me stay a medic?" she asked.
"Because you betrayed us as shinobi so you can no longer live as one. I secured your life, but I could not secure your position."

This broke her completely. Deep down, she knew he was correct, and no amount of pleading would change it. She began to cry softly against his chest, no longer able to fight the comfort he was providing.
"I'm sorry," he whispered as he continued to stroke her hair.
"No," she replied between sobs. "It was my fault. I am sorry if I've disappointed..."
Their conversation was ended abruptly when Baki burst through the door. He shifted his weight uncomfortably at the sight of the Kazekage holding a sobbing woman. Not only were emotional outbursts of that kind rare, but neither made a move to end their position. Gaara still held her gently and, well, she still cried.
"Gaara-sama, it seems that a sand storm is approaching from due west. Should we begin the necessary preparations?" He asked, trying to ignore the scene.
"Of course," Gaara replied.
"Hai," Baki replied as he hurriedly left the room with a nod.
"I should go back," Hotaru said suddenly pushing her personal problems aside. "I have to make sure the windows are secure and my sisters are safe at home."
"I'll take you," Gaara offered.
"That's really not necessary," she replied.
"I insist," he said and then beaconed her to follow.

To her surprise, he took her out to the balcony then formed an platform of sand.
"Well, get there faster this way," he said.
"Are you sure it can hold me up?" she asked skeptically. Although she had seen him travel this way before, she was understandably dubious of the stability of sand floating about in mid-air.
He merely smiled and offered her his hand to help her up.
"It feels more secure than I thought it would," she observed once she sat on it.
"Yeah. You should have seen how jealous Kankuro became when I showed it to him. Now that both me and Temari have a way of flying, he's the only one stuck on the ground. He didn't like it at all."
"Maybe he should create a flying puppet," she said.
"He' s probably working on that right now," he said with mild amusement.
As usual, he stood with his arms crossed as she sat, with her feet dangling over the edge, the fear now gone once she determined it wouldn't crumble in mid-air. And so they traveled quite quickly to her home

I didn't like this chapter much, but I felt that certain things needed closure. Chieko needed to get home and find out what happened to her sister, and Hotaru needed to receive her punishment. It is a testament to how much longer this story is than planned that the conversation between her and Gaara was supposed to have taken place in Too Kind.

Also, I unfortunately got "I will show you the world" stuck on my head after I wrote the last bit. I didn't mean for that at all and it irks me. It irks me quite a bit, actually. But, being flown home is much faster than walking or even jumping through the roofs, so I kept it. If I could have found another way around it, I would have. Other than a summoning scroll, there wasn't any other way. And I couldn't suddenly come up with that sort of thing in the middle of the story without it looking rather stupid. :sigh: