Author's Note: In case anyone is interested, the lj version of this fic is a community called youngestbrother. You can search for it from the front page of seeing as I can't seem to figure out how to post a link in / The lj is updated sooner than the ff.n version, but the updates are generally not edited. As always, comments and critiques are very welcome.

Chapter 2 – Baki

Uncle Yasha wouldn't let us leave the house. Mama and Father hadn't come to see us in four days. Outside, the voices and laughter had all stopped. Life had come to a standstill. And we were very bored.

Kankurou and I entertained ourselves by playing ninja, tearing around the house, and throwing tantrums. Uncle Yasha, who was a jounin under Father, tried to teach us chakra control, and when that failed, meditation, but teaching a four-year-old to meditate is next to impossible. He sang to us, old songs, children's songs, ninja songs, but that didn't work for long. He cooked us meals, and we were quiet long enough to eat – sometimes. He told us stories of missions he was on, leaving out none of the details. He picked up Kankurou's ninja doll by the head with a ropy line of chakra and made it dance floppily around the table. He sat staring out the window for long periods of time, his hands clenched in white fists.

Kankurou complained that he wanted to see Mama. I told him to hush or I'd cut him in half, and that made him cry. I wanted to see Mama too, even though I was quieter about it. I confronted Yashamaru in the hall.

"Uncle Yasha, when is Mama coming home? When are we going to get to see the baby?" I pouted, my hands on my hips.

My uncle smiled at me. "It should be any day now," he said. "Your Father is just making sure that they are healthy before bringing them home from the hospital."

What I didn't know was that Mama hadn't given birth in the hospital at all. In the hospital, even the Kazekage wouldn't be allowed to do the things my father had done to my mother. Gaara had been born in Father's office.

"I want to go see them. Can we go see them?" I asked, hearing Kankurou's bare feet on the brushed stone floor behind me.

Uncle Yashamaru smiled. "I'll have to go ask your father. Will you two stay here if I go?"

Kankurou nodded, but I wasn't so sure. "Why can't we go with you?" I was suspicious.

"Just because."

I began my temper tantrum then, because usually Mama and Uncle Yasha will give in to a crying child, even if tantrums only ever earned a hard smack from Father.

But this time, Uncle Yasha ignored me and went to get his sandals. "Stay here and be patient like good little ninjas, ok? I may have a treat for you if you do. And remember, I love you both." He bent down and gave each of us a kiss on the forehead before slipping out the door. I heard the scrape and faint clunk that meant he had locked the door from the outside.

Kankurou and I spent the next twenty minutes trying to crawl out the windows, but the attempt was half-hearted, in fear of the beating we'd get if Father learned we had disobeyed Uncle Yasha. We settled down after a bit to play with our chakra and wait.

Kankurou and I learned early to use our chakra. Father didn't give us much choice, really, but we also had talent and strong chakra flows. Kankurou was still too young to pull up much chakra, but he could make a tiny, momentary "spark" at the tip of his index finger, which he liked to use to poke me. I was just starting to learn to fling chakra, so I would spin in circles while letting the centrifugal force tear the chakra off the tips of my fingers. Kankurou and I would play a game where I would spin and he would try to poke me, until I got dizzy and we both collapsed in giggles.

Kankurou grew bored of the game and wandered off to take a nap, and I followed him. Before long we were curled up together and very asleep.

We were woken up two hours later by loud footsteps in the next room, and a rough male voice. "Temari! Kankurou!" Groggily, I stumbled out of bed and went to the arched door of my room. Through the haze of sleep, I vaguely recognized Baki, a jounin friend of my father's. I tottled toward him.

"Whatcha doing here?" I said, rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

"Temari!" he said roughly, and grabbed my arm so hard I squawked in pain and surprise. "Were you napping? We don't have time for naps."

"We have lots of time, waiting for Uncle Yasha to get back."

"Not anymore. The Kazekage has sent me to take you and your brother. Where is he?"

I brightened. "'Kurou's in our room. Are you taking us to see Mama and the new baby?"

"No, I'm not." Baki looked away from me. "Your Mama is dead, Temari. And you are not allowed to see the new baby."

I froze in shock. Mama couldn't be dead. "Mama isn't dead, Baki! That's not a nice joke at all!"

He looked down at the floor. "She is, Temari. I'm not joking. She was buried yesterday outside the village."

"We don't bury people outside the village! We bury them in the graveyard! You just proved that you're lying!" I sobbed. I ran back into the bedroom, and crawled up to Kankurou, hugging him very tightly while he whined at me.

Baki had followed me. He put his hand on my shoulder, gently, and said, "Why don't I take you to my house, Temari. You will live with me from now on, and I'll help you and Kankurou become strong." He muttered something then, something that I didn't understand until I was older: "Maybe if you two are strong, you will survive your youngest brother."

We followed Baki out of the house for the first time in days, coughing in the dust from the road. The sun had set below the cliffs, and the whole village was a deep blue, contrasting the thin band of golden orange sunlight alone the very edge of the eastern cliff. I held one of Baki's hands, and Kankurou held the other. As we stepped into the road, I caught a glimpse of a man in the Kazekage's robes. "Father!" I yelled, and pulled at Baki's hand.

Father stopped and frowned at the three of us, then turned without a word and rounded the corner.

"FATHER!" I yelled again and tugged harder, not sure that he had recognized us. Why wouldn't he come to tell us everything was all right?

I looked up at Baki, who was staring firmly ahead of us, not at his leader. "Your father has asked that you call him Kazekage. He will come to see you when he is ready. And you are not to call me Baki from now on, I am Sensei."

This was the beginning of our new lives, with Baki. This is where Kankurou and I become who we are.

I've wondered before what we would have been like if Mama had lived, if Gaara had been a normal boy, but I can't quite imagine it. I suppose we would have been more like the Leafs – carefree, lazy, happy. But we are not Leafs, we are Sand, and we are hard and miserable. No amount of wondering will change that.