34 – To Take a Life
Just as her feet touched the ground, an explosion ripped through the air, and windows shattered from within the tower. Several citizens screamed, and smoke poured through the windows as a dark figure slowly emerged from the building.
Breathing slightly heavily, Gaara looked slightly boyish with his wide eyes and ash smudged face. On his back was the hawk like woman, and he had two other council members in each hand, both of whom were coughing but quite obviously alive. The last two hobbled out on their own behind him, and for a moment there was a shocked silence as the crowd of Suna stared at the sight of their 'mad' jinchuriki who had just saved the lives of their precious council.
The silence stretched on, long and tense, before one shout broke through it.
"He did it!"
Cheers erupted in the crowd, several calling his name, and from her position behind the tower, Ryoka's lips twitched, satisfied with her success, before the slight smile faded and her eyes shadowed as she pulled back the head of the leader, exposing his throat to the silver blade of her kunai.
He was watching her, a glint of fear in his eyes that he couldn't hide, and she grit her teeth, a bead of sweat rolling down her temple.
Don't be a coward.
She pressed the edge of the knife against the soft skin of his neck, and a bead of blood appeared there.
Her hand began shaking, and the bead of blood dripped down his neck.
I can't do this.
Flashes of her family being slaughtered passed across her eyes and she dropped the knife like it had burned her.
I can't take a life.
The leader watched her with something akin to surprise.
"So you've never killed before," he observed quietly, and she felt her ice cold hands begin to tremble violently. "I'm surprised. You seemed like a professional."
She shakily ran a hand through her hair and slowly picked up the kunai once more.
"I'm protecting someone," she informed the man quietly. "And I have to follow orders to do so."
"And your orders are to kill us, right?" he guessed simply. He glanced at his subordinates, and pain flashed across his face. "At least they won't feel it," he sighed.
She walked forward slowly, without a tremor in her step, and once more positioned the knife. This time she would simply plunge it through his neck and pull it forward, ensuring that he would die rapidly and near painlessly. It was the most common military method used to deal with hostages.
Clenching her teeth so hard that her jaw began to ache, she plunged the kunai sideways.
Her weapon froze when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
She could tell just from the deafening silence who it was. Gaara was the only person who could ever sneak up on her like that.
"What are you doing?" he sounded almost nervous, almost worried as well as repulsed, and she closed her eyes, wishing he wouldn't see this. She didn't want him to observe her while she was forced to commit the dark acts the Council ordered. She didn't want him to follow that example.
"Following… orders," she managed to choke between her teeth.
"Orders?" he repeated softly, and she knew he could hear the twisted pain in her voice. She didn't say anything else, but she could feel the anger beginning to roll off him in waves, and she didn't open her eyes, now ashamed and unwilling to meet his petrifying gaze.
Gaara knew she was hurting. That much was clear to see, even for someone like him. He didn't like seeing her poised to kill. He didn't like seeing her try to take a life. For someone like him, it seemed ludicrous that he would care. He himself had killed countless people. But as it had before, back when the little one had died, the act of his important person killing looked wrong. And it looked even worse now because it was her, not the Nanabi, and it was hurting her just to try.
He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much; the fact that she was hurting. Kankuro and Temari hurting would be cause for concern, but not necessarily anger. When she choked out that she was following orders, and indeed, she'd barely managed to spit the words through her teeth, a new anger, so different from the anger the Ichibi caused, rose up in him.
Anger towards the giver of the orders. Anger towards the Council, because in all reality, who else could it possibly be?
I wouldn't have saved those old crones' lives if I'd known this.
He tried to suppress the thought, only because he knew Ryoka would disapprove of such reasoning, but the veracity of the fact remained. The Council had hurt her. She could barely keep her composure as she struggled so hard to do what was far too easy for him. And Gaara realized one more thing as he reached out and gently pulled the knife from her hand. He liked that she didn't want to kill. He respected and admired it. It was the example he wanted to follow.
But he knew she would do anything to carry out these orders, though the reason remained a mystery to him. As far as he knew, the Council was a band of corrupt old bats with insatiable avarice. Why she went to such lengths to bend to their will when she would not adhere to orders from any other he could not fathom. Regardless, he would never be able to say what exactly led to his next actions. But for reasons he was oblivious to, he found himself reaching out, and almost painfully gently, (because he was all too aware of the consequences of his strength) pulled her to her feet by the elbow, and placed a hand on the back of her head, guiding her face into his chest.
"Don't look," he told her quietly, and she didn't move an inch, her eyes wide and her hands limp at her sides as she stared blankly and unseeingly at his shoulder. The nearly inaudible hiss of sand, followed by a sickening crunch, and the three shinobi were no more.
For the first time, the deaths did not invoke any sense of pleasure or satisfaction in Gaara. He could feel the Ichibi shivering with delight and anticipation, its will screaming to absorb the blood, but for once Gaara did not share that feeling. It was completely overridden with apprehension, as he wondered if his important person would hate him and be disgusted that he had once again commit the act of murder. He released the hand on her head, feeling a foreign sense in his gut that he had never known before, and waited for her response. She was still staring straight ahead, just beginning to realize what he had done for her.
She blinked, and then her mouth parted slightly in surprise.
He waited with bated breath.
"Oh," the word came out like a sigh of relief, and her shoulders sagged as if a weight had been lifted from them. She regained her composure quickly, taking a shuddering breath and daring to meet Gaara's eyes. She didn't turn around, he noticed.
She forced a watery smile.
"Mission complete," she offered, before silently walking past him, her eyes shadowed. His eyes followed her as she did so, at a loss as for how to respond.
Ryoka was shaken, though she really didn't want to admit it. Her normally bronzed face was a little paler than usual, taking on an almost ashen pallor, and her hands were ice cold and still trembling. Gaara had done something for her that she would never forget, and never be able to express enough gratitude for.
But why did he do it in the first place?
She somewhat understood the idea that they were comrades, a team, and that explained the protective antics he displayed, in addition to Temari and Kankuro, but why ease her mental discomfort? And since when had he become so attuned to recognizing emotion from her? She would have to puzzle over it later, but right now she wanted to see the results of her efforts.
She wasn't disappointed. Shocked conversations were rapidly firing left and right, all about their feared jinchuriki, who suddenly seemed much less formidable.
"Did you hear?"
"Gaara saved the council!"
"No way…"
"It's true, I saw it myself!"
"Our Gaara? You're joking."
"I thought he hated our Council."
"Right? But he saved all of them from the infiltrators!"
"Heh, that'll teach foreign nin."
"Gaara's pretty strong, ne?"
The rumors bounced back and forth, and Ryoka had to suppress a smile as she glided unseen through the mixture of ninja and civilians to the ash smudged council, whom were trying to dust off their pristine robes as well as they could.
The leader and the hawk-like woman straightened noticeably when she approached, and the woman raised an eyebrow.
"Good work, as usual, Nadeshiko-san, and though I never thought I would say this, extend my thanks to Sabaku no Gaara for a job well done." The words were reluctantly admitted, but Ryoka took the thanks gladly.
"I will need three human sealing scrolls," she answered quietly, and the man's eyes glinted with an approval that she didn't deserve.
"So you fulfilled your task. Well done."
He offered her three small scrolls with a black band around the center of each, and she took them silently, about to leave, before pausing.
"The origin of the infiltrators were Grass, not Leaf," she informed them quietly. "Your intel was inaccurate."
Without waiting for a response, she slipped into the crowd back to the tower, where a few people were cheering Gaara's name, though most were simply wondering where the boy had vanished to.
Ryoka knew it would take a lot more effort before the citizens really accepted Gaara. But the step she had just overcome was the most difficult. She had forced the people to see that Gaara had a heart. He had the humanity to save another. And publically, he had saved five people that most shinobi knew Suna could honestly do without. Now they just had to see him as a capable leader, and the public support eventually, she hoped, would outweigh any of the council's decisions concerning the Kazekage.
Because despite its glorified government system, Suna's real power was now vested in the people so long as there was no Kazekage to follow. The people outnumbered the council a thousand to one. Ryoka knew that if she played her cards right, she might bring into power the youngest Kazekage the world had ever known.
Feeling slightly better, she returned and was able to seal away the bodies without faltering, under Gaara's ever watchful gaze.
"Are you angry?"
Gaara's voice startled her out of her thoughts as she finished sealing away the leader's body. His voice was filled with uncertainty, and she realized how he must be feeling. After all, she tried so hard to keep him from murder and he had gone against that. Given, it was to help her, not for himself, but how was he to know the difference? Murder was murder.
"No."
She stood and passed an arm across her forehead, briefly blocking out the merciless sun.
"I'm glad." It was selfish, but she couldn't describe the relief she felt that he had taken over and finished a task that made her body physically cringe.
"It didn't make me happy."
She blinked, slightly confused before realizing what he meant.
"Shukaku didn't influence you?" she confirmed, just to make sure. He nodded.
"Why did you do it?" she asked suddenly, usually not one to pry but unable to keep back the curiosity.
He stared at her impassively.
"You're my important person."
He said it flatly and pragmatically, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. But Ryoka blinked in surprise, having expected any answer except for that.
She didn't answer immediately, already exhausted from all the speaking that had been required of her, and feeling drained in the light of the sun. She already had too much to think about. In her opinion it was backwards. Gaara shouldn't feel the need to look out for her, yet he was doing it anyways. Was it because he was emulating the way she looked out for him?
"I see."
She shook her head to clear her thoughts, but nodded when he suggested they return to the mansion. He took the scrolls, intending to deliver them later, and they walked back in comfortable silence, Ryoka's head spinning with all that had happened.