Hey! I got that plushie I mentioned! But in all other senses, I don't own Naruto.
Gaara and Kankurou sat down in the shade of their favorite training place. Both were sweaty and breathing harshly. After some run throughs with their weapons of choice, they had set those aside and worked on other techniques and taijutsu. After Gaara's kidnapping, both had decided to better themselves in other areas. They had learned the hard way that Kankurou's puppets could break, and Gaara's sand fail.
Once the Kazekage had regained his breath, he spoke up. "Perhaps tomorrow or the next day, I would like you and Temari to spar with the girl. I want to see if she's as good as the Slug Princess thinks she is." Though if she retained any skill from before she lost her memory, she should be well off...
Kankurou finished taking a draught of water. "No problem. I guess we all did just assume she was good based on her captures. Though she must have some confidence in her skills since she stormed Giji's hide out with nothing but a kunai in her hand, and a smoke bomb in her pocket. Most of her other stuff was stashed in her back pack."
Gaara shrugged and sat quietly for a moment before getting up and strapping his gourd to his back. Kankurou did the same with his puppet. The sun was hovering over the horizon. "Let's go back now Kankurou. We can get something to eat, then head home. Did we need to pick up anything for Temari?"
Kankurou shook his head as they made their way along the path. "No. She said they'd eat while they were out. I'm sure Hotaru will appreciate the tour, but I doubt she'll feel the same for Temari's shopping vice."
Hotaru sat glowering at her drink while she and Temari waited for their food. Temari took no notice. She was busy looking through the bags of clothes she and Hotaru had gotten. They had spent three hours at the seamstress's store, then, upon Temari pointing out Hotaru needed more than her body guard clothes and a couple of dress robes, they went to some typical clothing stores. Hotaru didn't mind those places so much, and Temari was actually a welcome addition with her advice for what was most practical for a desert dweller to wear.
The food arrived and Hotaru happily dug in. Temari ate at a more leisurely pace. "You said you wanted to go to a weapon's shop, Hotaru?"
Hotaru finished swallowing a bite of food. "Yes please. Your ANBU confiscated most of my weapons. The only ones I have are a few special weapons not really practical for me to use. I keep those in a hidden compartment in my bag, so I still have them."
"Why keep weapons that aren't of use?"
Hotaru shrugged casually. "Just weapons I've picked up on my travels. Mementos to remind of where I've gone, what I've done and seen." Weapons I've had since before I can remember. Mementos of a home and past I can't recall. "Not really anything I want to use to defend your brother. I prefer throwing stars and kunai."
"Ninja's weapons," Temari noted.
Hotaru remained neutral. "Learned as a kid from my family. It wasn't my path though. Still, they wanted me to be able to defend myself, and obviously its proven useful to my recent and current occupation." It just came to me as if I'd done it all the time before I lost it all...
A shadow appeared in the evening's light. The women looked up to find Gaara and Kankurou, both fairly mussed, standing by them, take home boxes in hand.
"Boys," Temari greeted, while Hotaru just inclined her head politely.
Gaara gestured at the bags. "Did you buy enough?"
Hotaru winced and Temari grinned. "Of course not."
Kankurou reached for a bag, the one with Hotaru's formal robes in it. "What'd you get...OW!"
Hotaru had casually rapped his knuckles with her chopsticks. "It's impolite to dig through a women's things."
Gaara looked at Kankurou nursing his reddening fingers, noting that she at least had decent speed. Kankurou had been a master of Slaps as a child, and his reflexes hadn't dwindled over the years. His jade eyed gaze fell back on his sister. "Are you two done?"
"Almost. Hotaru just needs to replace her weapons, then she can go home."
"Ah, I can get those back for you Hotaru-san."
"Thank you Gaara-sama, but I need new ones anyway."
"In that case, we'll be at home." Gaara gave his sister a stern look. "Come back home soon. You just went shopping not long ago, and I'm not going to advance your paycheck." He strode off with his brother before Temari could retort.
The girls finished their meal, then finished their shopping. Hotaru was glad to be done. She'd have to get used to being surrounded by the crowds anyways, but she'd had enough for one day.
Gaara, robes of office stashed and changed out of training clothes, lounged with his brother in the kitchen enjoying a meal not made by Temari. Maybe they exaggerated her lack of cooking prowess a bit- after all, she could bake successfully- but anything else just wasn't palatable. And it isn't pleasant to live off bread.
Tossing his empty container into the trash, he noted the sun had dipped below the horizon. Temari should be home soon. And with her...Hotaru.
Kankurou noticed the scowl on his brother's face as he polished off his own meal. "Relax. She doesn't start until tomorrow afternoon. And could it really be any worse than when you had a council member observing you that first year when you were Kazekage?"
Gaara supposed it wouldn't be, Hotaru wasn't there to criticize or evaluate him after all. Still, work was still tedious enough with out someone hanging around.
Kankurou shrugged at Gaara's silence. "I feel more sorry for her. I've sat around watching you do the leader thing before. "Spending the day with the Kazekage" isn't as fun as it sounds."
Gaara turned, a brow raised at Kankurou's statement. "I'm not fun to watch while I do my Kazekage duties?"
"Nope." Kankurou was about to make a snide statement, when Temari's voice rang through the house.
"We're back guys! Where are you?"
"The kitchen!"
The two women entered, both loaded with bags. Gaara noticed that Hotaru's jaw appeared a bit clenched, and her eyes spoke of anything except that she had found spending hours in the market enjoyable.
Upon noticing his gaze was on her, she allowed the irritated look to leave her face. She inclined her head. "Gaara-sama. Kankurou-san."
He didn't really like to be referred to with titles when he wasn't performing his duties, and even less while he was at home, but circumstances called for formality at this point. "Hotaru-san," he greeted back.
Kankurou rolled his eyes. "Just Kankurou. We avoid formalities here, or did Temari not tell you?"
"She did, but as I hardly know any of you and am working for your family..."
It was fine if she was on first name basis with them, even if she looked a little uncomfortable doing so. But Gaara thought her right. "What'd you think of the village, Hotaru-san?"
"Hot. Crowded. Definitely not like the little towns I've been going to when my trip takes me through them. Now if you excuse me, I think I'm going to start putting all this stuff away," she said, lifting the bags that she was still holding a little higher. She went upstairs, Temari following her.
Once they were out of ear shot, Kankurou turned to Gaara. "What, are you two going to act like strangers even though you're living under the same roof? I know it grates your nerves to be called 'sama' all the time. And I'm sure bounty hunters only use titles when they want to avoid trouble with higher ups."
Gaara sighed with annoyance. "Just because we both don't like titles doesn't mean we don't know when they're more appropriate. I'm her boss, and she IS a stranger. Use your head Kankurou. And go wash that remaining makeup off of it. You look idiotic enough without it being sweat streaked too."
Kankurou made an irritated noise, and stalked off to his room. Gaara made his way upstairs. He had showered upon coming home, not wanting to enjoy a nice meal in his sweaty training clothes. He glanced towards the alcove hall that Temari's room branched off of. There was no activity coming from that room, nor the one across the hall. He grimaced and turned, confirming his dread. Hotaru had moved into the room across from his. He slipped silently past her door, which was slightly ajar, to go to his room. Snapping his door shut, he grabbed his meditation mat, and went onto the balcony, and hopped off it. Landing lightly on his feet, he clambered atop of a rock, rolled out his mat, and set out trying to sooth his irritation by meditating in the moonlight for a while.
Next time:..."It's a comfort to be well armed in a dark ally"...she'd lived a life of trusting no one and keeping everyone at arm's length..."Not that anyone could compare to you, raccoon boy."