This, ladies an' gents was a long time in the making. Finally, I'm gonna try an' do a piece of work that can hold its own against some of the writings I've read, 'cause frankly, I'm tired of bein' severely outclassed lol. Disclaimer: Man, I'm amazing an' I own the world, so put that in your record books!
Ch. 1: Break me down
Believing in hope, in faith? Ha. Long, slender fingers gripped at blonde hair, relishing in the feeling of sharp pain that cascaded through her huddling frame. Accepting the good of humanity? Bullshit. Tears, hot and salty, burned a trail down porcelain as eyelashes, the same color as her hair, fluttered open so that her gaze met with glittering gems. In twenty years of living, I've learned one thing. The night time sky was flawless, sapphire stars clinging to the velvet background. There's nothing in this godforsaken world worth believing in anymore.
He stalked down one of the narrow hallways, glaring at anyone unfortunate to move out of his way. Some whispered, while others (Most of whom valued their lives) scattered like cockroaches to avoid turning his apparent anger onto themselves.
Gaara glanced up from his desk when the door to his office seemed to explode from its hinges. Head tilted in response to the agitation that seemed to roll off of his older brother in waves, he pushed a stack of papers to the right side of the desk. "Yes?"
Large fists clenched and unclenched as Kankuro stared down into the pale green eyes of his younger brother. His kazekage. "How long," the words were ground out from between his teeth. "Are you going to let her lie to us?"
Gaara blinked, his head shifting from the right, to the left. Had he any, he probably would have taken the time to arch an eyebrow in question. "Who?"
Unwilling to restrain himself any longer, Kankuro brought his fists down on the desk, earning both a scowl from his brother and a cracking protest from the hunk of wood. "Temari, Gaara! Damn it!" His anger deflated when Gaara simply gave a nod, and the puppet master sunk down into a chair across from his brother. " I can't take it any more." His voiced dropped just as suddenly as his anger. "She cooks, an' she cleans. But she doesn't complain anymore, she-
Gaara interrupted him, soft-spoken as always. "Maybe she's beginning to feel a need to settle."
He growled in response. "That's bull an' you know it. Haven't you noticed? Temari doesn't laugh anymore. When she smiles, it's fake, like it was painted on."
"Her eyes." Gaara frowned, "they worry me."
"Yeah?" Running a hand through russet brown hair, Kankuro stood and shoved the other deep into his pocket. It was rare for Gaara to voice an opinion with him, so he watched as the youngest of their three-man family, two men a girl, struggled to find his words.
"It's like looking into a room with no lights." The frown deepened as pale arms crossed over their owner's chest. "I can't see anymore when I look into them." Gaara eyes met the brown of his brother's when he glanced up from the floor. "Kankuro. I can't see my sister."
She hated it. The feeling of despair that wrapped itself around her heart, a python to its prey. Pathetic. She raised the back of a hand, far paler than it should have been, and began to wipe at her face. I wanted us to be a family, to share things. And now? Attempting to stop the tears had backfired, and so now she sat, head in her hands as sobs tore through her body. Now I can't even stand to look my brothers in the eye.
Silence held for a moment, before the puppet master gave a grunt. "What are we gonna do about this?"
Gaara gaze flickered over to his desk. The mission scroll, which Temari had given him nearly a week ago, still lay with the rest of the papers that needed to be read, and a small smile graced his features. "Perhaps, a family trip?"
Chapter one has come to a close, an' I feel pretty good about this. I lied earlier. Yes, I am amazing, but I don't really own the world (at least, not yet). Leave me a review, 'cause I really wanna know what people think. Who knows, give me a good idea, an' I may jus' flow wit it.