Hey there. First and foremost I'd like apologize for not updating. I'm not going to give an excuse, so we can forget about that. But, if you were waiting for this story (not that anyone is, but..) I am truly sorry for making you wait.
I also think I screwed up some of the time frames. For example, Watcher brings Kakashi and Iruka out into the desert about a week and ½ into Jezebel's stay at the Hidden Sand. All of this is happening within that week and four days.
I wanted this chapter to be one of the better ones. It involves too many characters in four different scenarios. So, try to keep them straight (even I have trouble). Feel free to write whatever you want in your reviews. I take constructive criticism very seriously. It helps, but then again so do good reviews and compliments!
Chapter 5
1 ½ weeks after Jezzy intrudes on the Kazekage's family
Wind Country- somewhere in the desert-
Sunlight shown through Iruka's closed eyes; from somewhere far off he could feel it. But it was hard to wake; sleepiness crept back with the rocking motion of the ground under him. Rocking motion? He breathed deeply, tasting grit on the dry breeze. Warmth soaked through him, lulling him back into the world of dreams. Rocking motion… Since when did his futon rock?
Iruka peeled his eyes open. And shut them immediately when he found himself staring into a barely risen sun. It sat on the horizon like a huge glowing red ball, Iruka glared at it. Last night… It came back to him. Not a dream then.
For the first time he got a clear view of where he had been sleeping. Squinting, he gazed around him, sat up and leaned on the side of the wagon. The wooden cart, the black horses pulling and the driver's seat where his pack, a coiled black whip rested, and a six pack of beer rested. He had been curled up in fetal position on a few flat wind style carpets. Farther back there was a pyramid of rolled rugs mostly in reds and browns. In fact there seemed to be a carpet rolled into every possible space, until none of the floor showed (except under the driver's seat, where there now rested a keg of something).
Dunes flashed by outside the cart. There was something strange about the speed they passed, but Iruka felt groggy and didn't want to think about it. Everywhere he turned there blew sand, in the wind, on the dunes. The world seemed made of sand and sky. They appeared to be heading straight into the west. Well, at least Watcher hadn't lied; it was Wind Country all right, judging by the wind (ya know?). At least Watcher hasn't lied. Yet, he corrected himself. What did I get myself into?
It took Iruka a moment to realize someone else sat in the cart with him. The white-haired boy across from him held so still you couldn't tell where he ended and where the gray rugs he leaned on began. The boy wore a dust-colored, short-sleeved shirt that seemed two sizes to big. It slipped off one shoulder and hung down his chest, like a child wearing their parent's pajamas. His pants were functional, loose and black, but also too big. They were held up by a cord from one of the rug rolls. A tight fitting black mask completed the ensemble. He rested easily, but stock still, against the side of the cart, his arms propped up by bent knees. The boy seemed completely relaxed, but Iruka got the impression of a coiled snake waiting to strike. Iruka noted the tattoo on one of his biceps. Anbu.
The anbu suddenly noticed him watching, or had known the whole time but didn't acknowledge it. He looked up. Iruka gave a visible double take at the sight of one eye with a scar down the middle. This eye whirled in strange red patterns. The brown-haired boy nodded. The silver haired one stuck out a hand.
"Hitake Kakashi,"
"Umino Iruka,"
"Nice name," they lapsed into silence, broken only by the pounding of hooves. Pounding of hooves... The horses were still galloping flat out. How long had they been going on like this? Soldier pills, maybe? Although why anyone would waste a soldier pill on a horse was beyond Iruka. He tried his reasoning on the anbu.
"The horses-,"
"Have not stopped since I woke up. It seems that this is slow for them," Things just kept getting stranger.
"Where's Watcher?"
"Oh, is that the bastard's name?" Kakashi beckoned Iruka over to his side of the cart. Iruka leaned over the edge far enough to glimpse a sinuous figure running next to the horses. "They slowed down so he could run with them," Iruka decided Kakashi was too arrogant. "He's been down there since I started asking questions. I woke up a few hours ago," Kakashi rubbed his fingers across his neck. It hurt where Watcher had touched him the night before. "So," Kakashi added. "How'd he get at you?"
"Get at me?"
"Yeah, he showed up in my apartment, and he…" the Anbu shook his head, adjusting a wrist guard. "We never even fought. He had me before I knew it," I'm glad he grabbed my mask though, that and a pair of boxers… And that he has extra clothes, I guess.
"But you're-,"
"Super sexy?" He grinned at Iruka's expression, which teetered between laughter and tears. "I know, an Anbu, right? I don't think that mattered to him. Just watching him though, I don't think any currant anbu could stop him," He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself as well as Iruka.
"Oh," The chunin suddenly felt inadequate. He had never so much as talked with an anbu. They were powerful, legendary even. Every child wanted to be an Anbu. And Kakashi, he was still young enough to be that child. Iruka hadn't passed until 15.
"So, how'd Watcher get you?" Kakashi repeated.
"I came willingly…" Iruka frowned.
"Pushover," Kakashi joked, Iruka's face reddened. "I wonder why he wanted you. Us! I mean, I wonder why he wanted us," Kakashi had the grace to look abashed; he made an attempt to cover it by shifting a hand over his eyes. (Note: it's because of the differences in their abilities) "Do you have food in that pack?"
Iruka rolled his eyes and glanced at the olive green pack. Of course, the bloody anbu was kidnapped. In his boxers, no less.
"No, he told me I wouldn't need it,"
"So you just trusted him?" Kakashi felt a bit slighted. A man who could be at least sixty, maybe seventy had beaten him without a fight. And he wondered how much talking the Watcher could stand. So far it had only been, "The weather in Konohagakure has not changed in years," or "Sorry I only grabbed a mask from your room, kid," whenever Kakashi asked a question. The 18-year-old anbu wondered if, in a head on fight, he would be able to beat Watcher. The answer he looked for wouldn't come.
"What else do you know," he asked Iruka.
"We're going to meet a dragon,"
"That's not funny, truth this time please," Kakashi laughed, but the expression never touched his eyes. Iruka felt bad for Kakashi, but not as bad as he felt for himself.
"That's what Watcher told me. We're going to meet a dragon," Then the watcher's voice sounded. It carried back to them on the wind.
"We'll be there in about an hour boys!"
Be where? Their thoughts were nearly identical.
Konohagakure
Maito Gai stood inside the mess that should have been Kakashi's room. It was a mountains region with rumpled clothes, shuriken, peeling posters, and books. Gai unconsciously kicked an unopened box of condoms under the bed. He ran a hand through his black hair, yup; this room had Kakashi written in upper case letters all over it.
The only problem? Kakashi wasn't in it; neither was his blood, or any other signs of a fight. When the laid back anbu had missed a meeting with the rest of his squad that morning, Gai was sent over to see why. When he went the first time Kakashi wasn't there either. Now he came back to puzzle over the disappearance of his rival. The door swung open for him, unlocked. Leaving the door open? That was uncharacteristic of any ninja.
Gai walked another slow circuit around Kakashi's room. He caught sight of himself in the large circular mirror coated with pictures and sayings (practice makes perfect, the hot girl on the cover of Come Come Paradise, a picture of the time a pair of drunk women tried to molest Kakashi, hope for the best prepare for the worst, and one by one the penguins are stealing my sanity), taped up so thickly that there was only a small circle of glass visible. Gai sniffed at Kakashi's taste, but stopped to admire his pudding bowl haircut in the mirror. Oh, what a lovely smile! Ping!
Gai sighed. The only thing he found out was that Kakashi probably left suddenly, and before the anbu squad meeting. And if Gai knew his rival, he knew that Kakashi would never miss it (even if he would be a good hour late). He wandered away, musing.
Summer made Konohagakure as hot as a bake oven. Gai stepped out from under the awning in front of Kakashi's apartment onto the road. A pair of female genin sprinted past laughing, but they seemed to be the only ones other than Gai who were moving at faster than a crawl down the tree lined street. Everyone else drifted languidly from place to place hoping for a working air conditioner. Everyone except for the chunin that suddenly tapped Gai's shoulder.
Gai turned. He had been caught up in his thoughts, which consisted mainly of Kakashi is my rival, not my friend. Who cares that he's disappeared. Certainty not you! If he never comes back, you'll never have to fight with anyone. Not that that would be a bad thing…
The female chunin barely waited for Gai's acknowledgement before rushing into her message.
"Urgent! Hokage has ordered a meeting at the stone monuments. You have ten minutes to get there," Then the chunin leapt away.
Gai unconsciously sped his pace up from a trot to a run. He had to go home now if he was going to get to the statues on time. Anyone who saw him now would only glimpse a green blur.
Ten minutes later:
Under the tall stone monuments stood a few select chunins, two Anbu squads dressed in long black cloaks and masks, but mostly jounins. Gar stood with his anbu squad waiting patiently. The groups stood a little apart from each other. An air of slight apprehension had settled over the group.
It was too hot for black cloaks and masks. Gai started to sweat under his. Some others looked a bit uncomfortable as well.
Morino Ibiki shaded his eyes as he waited for a few stragglers to arrive. He stood directly under the gigantic carving of the third Hokage, where the Hokage would normally stand. When he was ready, he made a point of glaring at the rabble until the scattered whispering quieted. They did so almost immediately. Ibiki gave Gai's Anbu squad a subtle nod. A man in a crocodile mask and a woman with that of a wolf darted away. Gai watched them go. A man in a frog mask, Genma, nudged Gai's attention back to Ibiki. Behind the bird that hid his face, Gai waited. Why were anbu squads here? Two of them. When all the whispers were quiet, Ibiki got straight to the point.
"One among our number is missing!" Mutters broke out like plague. "Hitake Kakashi disappeared some time last night," The whispers spread like wild fire. "If you have any information please inform me or the Hokage immediately. Now, does anyone know anything?" Everyone looked at someone else. "I thought as much," continued Ibiki.
Someone seemed to think it undignified for an Anbu to be taken alive.
"How do you know he's not just out training somewhere?" an anonymous voice called. Ibiki intensified his glare. He didn't get the respected of a Hokage, but speaking in place of one merited some respect.
"It's not your place to ask questions Ebisu, this has already been decided by the village counsel. But, if you must know it is because he brought nothing with him,"
"Kakashi is a technician," Suddenly the day seemed much cooler. "He doesn't need anything," said a chunin. Ibiki exploded. Gai decided maybe they needed a more patient squad leader.
"Look down! When was the last time any of you left home without your shuriken holsters?!" Guilty looks passed between the gathered ninjas. Gai took a moment to wonder how any of the people questioning Ibiki got to the jounin level. Impatience in him grew, he would say something to make these people shut up and listen to a lowly squad leader. Gai wanted to hear the rest of the message. I will not be rash, I will not be rash, Kakashi is rash, and I will not be like him. Apparently someone else was also anxious to hear the rest of the message because she began to voice her (very loud) opinion.
"Hey people! Shut the hell up!" Well, Anko repeatedly beat even Kakashi for rashness. But people listened to her. Gai could have said the same thing only much more eloquently. He sniffed and almost told her off. She had been standing right next to him in her black cloak and monkey mask.
Anko had just ruined the fast that Anbu are supposed to be anonymous. Now everyone knew one of them was Anko. She shook her head, cheeks coloring slightly at her outburst. Ibiki saw the opening and jumped in.
"We have reason to believe the Hidden Sand is behind this!" he roared. Dead silence descended, a hot breeze ruffled the limbs of the trees. The universal thought was almost tangible. The Sand, infiltrating Konohagakure?It was impossible, thought Gai, but unfortunately, that usually meant someone had figured out how to do it. Ibiki continued in a slower, calmer tone. "We believe this for two reasons," Ibiki raised a finger. "One-,"
"Because relations with the sand suck!" yelled Anko into Gai's ear. He winced. The twenty-one year old anbu was obnoxious, usurping her commander's authority like that. The crowd of people stared at the monkey-faced anbu. A member of the squad, Gai, glared at her. It's true, she thought. Why should we mask it?
"What this Anbu says it true!" Continued Ibiki. He didn't need to say anbu, everyone knew it was Anko. She winced, something in his voice said she was busted. "Someone left last night. There are cart tracks heading west, towards wind country," Ibiki waited for that to sink in. When it did the reaction was exactly what he wanted.
Stunned faces looked back at him. Even Gai hadn't know, the sand involved? But why? The village had made peace with the sand after the fox demon was sealed inside the body of that kid. Relations with the sand had never been great but they were becoming increasingly tenuous lightly.
"Any questions?"
"I have one," the red eyed female chunin who gave Gai the message raised a hand. Ibiki nodded acknowledgement. "What does the Sand want with Kakashi?"
"Information," the scared man said simply. To Ibiki information was enough to die for. A few jounins nodded in agreement. The crowd's attention stopped wavering. Now their eyes locked on him, they had started to believe. "My orders come from the 3rd himself! From now on we walk on eggshells. Keep a sharp eye. If our boy doesn't turn up, we're going after him. He has three days. And in three days meet back here at the same time. You'll find your orders ready! Meeting adjourned," Morino Ibiki stepped back and faded into the crowd, leaving the jounins to puzzle out things themselves. His squad left to find him at their designated meeting point, except for Anko who lagged behind in a sort of I'm-in-Trouble kind of way.
SandVillage: Ninja Administration
Yashamaru shrugged off a tan jacket just before entering a tall domed multi-storied building, the Ninja Administration. He shivered and then pushed the door open. A wave of heat and light slammed into him. Nights were cold in Wind Country, but mostly it stayed warm indoors. Yashamaru took a few deep breaths, rehearsing a planned speech under his breath.
Before him stretched a curving hallway. The door at the very end was invisible around a corner, but that's where Yashamaru headed, trying to keep his head clear. He needed to be able to control the situation in there, and to do that he needed to keep his head. Now the door stood in front of him. He put his hand on the cool knob and felt the press of the adobe walls surrounding him. Then he pushed the door open.
On the floor were a few small mats for kneeling and two chairs. A wooden desk sat at the far end of the room. Paper work rose in mountains on top of it. The room was completely enclosed with no windows and only two doors. One out the back, an escape route, and the other being the one Yashamaru just came through. On the wooden walls two maps were tacked, one of the continent, and the other an in depth map of Wind Country. On other parts of the wall weaponry shone, gleaming in faint candlelight. The room looked strangely shadowed from gleaming weaponry and warm candlelight. The vibe being sent off felt tired, but peaceful. That was good, usually the atmosphere in the room changed with the Kazekage's mood. Sometimes it felt suffocating.
Yashamaru checked his watch. 11:30, he arrived on time. From behind the piles of paperwork a chair creaked back. Yashamaru bowed down on one of the mats, his forehead touching the dusty floor. He felt a touch on his shoulder and looked up into the haggard face of the Kazekage. Red brown hair framed the man's face. He was young, maybe only in his late thirties but his manner told a different story. The Kazekage was a complicated man, whenever Yashamaru thought he knew him there turned out to be another facet. The man was like an onion. As it was, Yashamaru found himself staring in the face of his sister's killer, husband, and lover, and his nieces and nephew's father. Gaara's father.
Kazekage drew Yashamaru to his feet grinning; his wide mouth seemed made for smiling. Then he pulled up a chair for himself and another for Yashamaru. Yashamaru noticed dark circles under the mans eyes, but he seemed just as energetic as ever, albeit a bit tired. He hadn't been home in days. Yashamaru had overlooked the futon on the corner of the room.
Someone knocked on the door. Yashamaru rose to answer.
"I'll get it," the Kazekage went to retrieve a pot of steaming black coffee and two mugs from the door. He poured himself a mug and took a large sip, letting it burn. Yashamaru suddenly realized that as tired as he was, if must be nothing next to what the Kazekage felt, but he did sip his coffee.
It had been a rousing night of Find the Kankuro and Put Him to Bed. Of course he had been hidden (in a clothes hamper, no less), and then went to bed as loudly as possible with Temari tutting at him like an angry mother hen.
"Tell me of my children. I want to hear about them," this made Yashamaru smile. He told Kazekage about the night's adventures, and then expanded.
"Temari is well; she still holds the top slot in her academy class. Her ninjutsu is excellent. She takes care of the boys as if she were their mother,"
"And the boys? Tell me of them,"
"Well, Kankuro…." The Kazekage raised an eyebrow as Yashamaru recounted the cactus-throwing incident. He even laughed a bit when Yashamaru explained Kankuro's excuse. "So anyway, his hand is healing nicely. Although what possessed him is beyond me,"
"I did things like that when I was younger," the Kazekage took a sip of coffee. "He's got much the same pride in himself that I did," Yashamaru doubted whether Kazekage ever actually lost that pride, but kept silent.
"His ninjutsu is suffering though. He can manipulate chakra with the ease of someone twice his age, but refuses to do so. He's always singing or humming. His mind is constantly in drama and performance, dancing even. It's killing his concentration. But then again I think it's also killing his sanity," The older man laughed, mulling this over. "So this is nothing new,"
"Perhaps we can channel that energy. He will be strong if it can be channeled. Maybe something that involves theater or voice? But… The academy cannot change its curriculum just for Kankuro. He may have to fight through this himself,"
"Your other son…" Yashamaru continued. Suddenly the Kazekage dropped his head into his hands, he rubbing fingers over his eyes.
"Gods I wish I could be there for them. I don't even know who they are anymore," he rubbed his temples. "Gaara, how is he?" Worry clouded the man's dark eyes.
"He's gotten quieter, more submissive almost. It's like he's stopped trying to be like Temari and Kankuro…" This was the moment Yashamaru had been waiting for. Gaara asked him to keep Jezzy a secret, but which was more important? Jezzy and Gaara or the village? Jezzy murdered. Yashamaru would stake his life on it. And he felt that Jezzy went a lot farther than just killing. On the whole, he surprised himself by keeping Gaara's secret even this long. He closed his eyes and sucked in more coffee. "I believe Gaara may be connected to the disappearances, not directly per say, but-,"
There was another knock on the door.
"Come in," said Kazekage tiredly. Baki shut the door behind him, his tattooed face twisting into a sour frown. The Anbu captain bowed slightly to Kazekage and nodded at Yashamaru, then he plunged waist high into his message.
"Kazekage-sama there's been another murder. Another two murders. One body looks eaten, as if an animal… The type of death, it's familiar" Kazekage blinked slowly.
"Tell me who was killed," He said it as if it hurt to speak those words.
"A genin sir, someone recognized a personal item," Baki held up a small gold chain. On the end hung a tiny butterfly clotted with blood. Kazekage took it, rubbing his hands over it until it seemed reality was lost to him. Sighing he tucked it into a pocket. He'd have to bring that back to the little girl's parents.
"Who else?"
"And a chunin, sir, neck snapped. His hair was torn out and fingernails sliced off, but the body was identifiable. Nothing compared to what happened to the genin. The genin, I could swear she was eaten…" Baki let the sentence drop. Of the three Baki looked guilty for saying so much, Yashamaru felt sick and Kazekage just stared, eyes wide open, deep in thought. Finally the sand shinobi nodded.
"In the last four years unexplained deaths in this country have risen 10%. The Hidden Sand gets blamed for this. Either for not protecting the people or for committing the murders. The deaths of our own shinobi have risen 5%. In that last week and ½ there have been ten deaths within the village itself. I have a feeling these two ratios are directly connected," When Kazekage got a feeling about something it usually turned out to be right.
"If the ruling counsel of Wind Country decides the hidden Sand have been killing their people, they'll turn on us," interrupted Baki. "We hold a very precarious position. This could destroy us, patrons will stop coming. They'll go to a different village!" Kazekage raised a silencing hand.
"Tell me Yashamaru, how is my youngest son indirectly connected to all of this?" Yashamaru took a deep breath, upper lip curling at the thought of Gaara being someone's son, and began to relate the events of the past week. Both men listened attentively.
"And you believe a girl is the source of this madness?" Baki scoffed.
"Have you not felt her chakra? It roars louder than a forest fire!" Yashamaru pleaded. How could they doubt him?
"Yashamaru, you are not an assassin, nor are you a politician, you are a medical Nin. Do not pretend you know what you speak of," Yashamaru's face colored. "We have felt strong chakra, yes, but then it all but disappears, like a doused flame. Who's to say it is not something else? Something that disappears into the night when it's done?"
The Kazekage listened silently to Baki and Yashamaru argue, then he shook his head pointedly.
"Baki is right on one account, Yashamaru, you are not a politician. You are asking me to risk my village on a whim," Yashamaru's eyes narrowed. He couldn't believe this! It took all of his will power to keep his mouth from dropping open. "To hunt this thing, whatever it may be would take both anbu and jounin teams. That's more then we cane spare-,"
"But if we don't do something we'll be even shorter staffed!" Yashamaru leaped to his feet. The coffee cup crashed to the floor, dark liquid spilled like blood across the floor. It seeped into the tatami mats like blood seeps into sand. The Kazekage finally raised his voice.
"You think I haven't felt this! I know what we are up against! It would be like going up against the three legendary ninjas at once when this thing is at full strength!" Yashamaru made a visible effort to calm his words.
"Kazekage-sama, something must be done-,"
"Something will be done, Yashamaru, you have two choices. If at the end of this week there are more bodies added to this list we will investigate your story extensively," Yashamaru gave a small smile. This was Kazekage lingo for, you were right Yashamaru. "Or you can make it much simpler and find us proof," Baki made a move to interrupt. "It doesn't matter what we're after, but I will not leave the village chasing one dragon while another one waits within," Yashamaru nodded, understanding.
Baki mulled this over. On one hand there rested one chakra monster, a girl who had been staying in the village, an easy target, and on the other hand an anonymous nobody with demonic feeling chakra that appeared and disappeared completely. Could this thing mask itself to make it undetectable? It was possible. But then something even more troubling occurred to Baki, maybe Yashamaru was right. Could the two be one and the same? The thought made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The bitch could be picking off the hidden sand. One by one, by one…
"If by Saturday there are more deaths we will consider chasing this girl, Yashamaru," continued the Kazekage. "Until then, keep her safe at home," Yashamaru laughed weakly.
"No need no worry about that Kazekage-sama. After all, she has only been hurt once,"
Earlier that evening- after Catch the Kankuro and Put him to Bed
Jezebel and Gaara. An odd pairing at best, but for some odd reason (one Jezebel couldn't fathom) Gaara clung to her. Actually, they only spent a maximum of twenty minutes a day with each other, but to Jezzy that meant clinginess. When Jezebel went hunting Gaara came with her. He watched silently while her prey had a series of accidents. Afterwards, when she dragged the corpse outside the village walls, he offered to help. The little bastard actually seemed to like her. And, as a plus, she actually started talking a bit. Conversation was not a strong point in either of them.
Gaara told her she was wrong. He was right and she was wrong. The humans were right and she was wrong. The last bit he let slip. Everything she was, had been, and had loved. It was all wrong according to Gaara. Jezzy wondered if he could bullshit his way through his whole life like that. Telling people off and calling them inhuman when he acted like her. She heard people call her things, and she'd heard them call Gaara things as well.
She pondered this one night in the guest room of Gaara's house. Jezebel sat propped up in a bed with fresh pillows, her knees pulled up to her chest, wearing absolutely nothing. She slept in a bed. A bed! The sheets smelled faintly of roses, sickening. Things were clean in this room, clean and white, from the walls to the chests, to the rug on the floor. Jezebel took it all in by moonlight. The moon created soft beams across the patchwork quilt through an open window. Jezzy didn't need it though, her night vision was fine.
She felt sick. That was the only way to describe it. The feeling of weakness that wouldn't go away. It faded in and out, like breathing. One minute she could control a wave of fire… And the next not even her knees. With the weakness came a different sensation, something more tangible. Emptiness, it felt like a vacuum that all the chakra in the world could not fill. And it lingered on after the weak spells past. It even stayed when she gathered all of her chakra inside of her to fill the empty pit. It felt like hunger, Jezzy decided. Hunger for what? Power? Like she needed more of that. She had it all.
And another thing. How could people ever let themselves get close to each other? It eternally annoyed her listening to Yashamaru tell his charges bedtime stories. Of course, he did not know she listened, sitting on the windowsill outside the boy's bedroom.
Jezebel knew. You could not let yourself get close to anyone. Not only would they betray each other but also, (Jezebel knew from personal experience) that when hunger threatened the other person could always be eaten (though apparently that might count as a sort of betrayal as well). The unity in Gaara's family made her skin crawl. Gaara made her fingers itch. This village made her sick. Once she had seen victims of plague. Their faces were drawn and shrunken from malnourishment. They cried out to her for help even as she ate their fallen comrades. She thought that she felt the way they looked. Empty.
Her face twisted into a snarl as the covers flew to the foot of the twin bed. Her mental rant continued, reasoning her way through what she saw. And she saw much even when people shied away in the streets. How she interpreted it... That was another matter altogether.
The feeling of security in the village unnerved her. She had been secure wherever she went, but inside the Hidden Sand she felt stifled, like the times she tripped into a pond and choked on disease ridden water. Stifled, empty, hatred, pain, hunger, power, weakness, healing. New words for new times, Jezzy decided. She stayed because here prey was plentiful. Here, there was healing if Watcher ever came back. Here, there lived Gaara.
Not that Watcher would come back, she knew. No one in his or her right mind would ever come after her. When she felt ready she would come to him and politely rip his bloody head off.
Someone knocked at the bedroom door.
"Come in," Jezzy schooled her face to a smile. The door swung open and Gaara peered in. Small black lined eyes saw the covers at the foot f the bed and pulled them up. Jezzy waited for him to say what he wanted. He always wanted something.
"You don't look happy," Gaara remarked. Jezzy sighed.
"Maybe I'm not. Did you expect me to be?"
"Why?" Jezzy pulled the little boy up onto the foot of the bed. She touched me! Why?! Gaara stretched out, sticking small-socked feet off the end of the bed. He rested his head in his hands facing Jezzy with the bear tucked under his elbow. Jezzy mirrored his position, only her bare feet rested on the headboard.
"How should I know?" Jezzy asked. Gaara shrugged, he didn't know either. "It feels… not like hurt," Gaara's logic told him that if it didn't hurt Yashamaru couldn't heal it. So what was Jezzy talking about? "Can you hurt without bleeding? Like bleed inside?"
"Yashamaru told me even bruises bleed, but I've never had one," said Gaara. "So does it hurt, or not?" They faced each other almost nose to nose. Gaara's eyes widened at the prospect of being so close to someone. Jezzy leaned forward slightly and kissed him on the cheek.
"No," she said, retreating to her pillow. "It feels empty," Gaara's finger leapt to his cheek, warmth radiated from the spot. Gaara could feel his face flushing. Every night he watched Yashamaru kiss Temari and Kankuro good night. Now he could tell them he got a kiss goodnight too. He felt like a real sibling now. Then Gaara had another thought; the brief smile flitted from his face.
Jezzy said she felt empty every time someone else from the village disappeared. So did the people that found the bodies, Gaara listened, he knew. They always said that they felt empty, sad and empty as well.
Suddenly Jezzy sat up, her eyes narrowed. She looked at Gaara as thought seeing him there for the first time. Gaara ducked his head. He had to say something quick. She would ask him what he wanted again.
"Will you play with me?" A low hissing sound filed the room. Jezebel exploded and leaped, but instead of going for Gaara she grabbed his bear. Gaara would do anything for this bear, which was what family did. You would do anything for the people attached to you.
"No, Jezzy!" Gaara cried, lunging for his stuffed animal. A loud ripping sound filled the room and the bear's body flew back to Gaara. Jezzy now sat across the bed from Gaara holding the fluffy head of Snookums. She stared at it, then methodically began to pick out bits of stuffing. Gaara's throat felt tight.
"No, why would I ever play with you? You never play with me," Desire to rip quenched, Jezzy calmly handed the half empty head back to Gaara. The little boy swallowed hard, suddenly his insides felt tight. He hugged the severed head to his chest, small fingers searching for bits of fluff in the dark. Jezzy's eyes shone clear. The pupils were tiny and circular; they looked a bit like those of a predator.
"Help me, Jezzy," His hands searched around the comforter but did not come close to Jezebel.
Gaara looked at her with an unreadable expression, to Jezebel anyway. Anyone could have said it was the way a child looked when they get scared or confused. Gaara blinked at her slowly.
"There," Gaara buried his nose in Snookums severed neck. "Now I feel empty too,"
Special Thanks to all people who reviewed is holding a tray of muffins! Take one please!
Esachasa- Thanks for the award! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Compliments, I love them!
DarkWarrior- I'm glad you like the story! I aim to please. Hangs head- I didn't update in forever though
Nenya of Rivendell- Well…. Thanks for your review! Hope you didn't get in trouble for taking to long.
Naito Kiseki- Here's your update. I hope you're happy with this. It's nowhere near the level I want, but I really tried to do well with this chapter. You've been very supportive.
Thanks guys!
"There," Gaara buried his nose in Snookums severed neck. "Now I feel empty too,"
-BTR
