Author's Note: This is the direct sequel to "Improbable Dilemma." What do you do when you set out to write a Temari x Sakon and end up with something much closer to Kankuro x Sakon? Well, responses may vary, but mine was to shrug and say, "Eh. I prefer slash anyway."

Kankuro had long come to the conclusion that Sakon was utterly insane. There was no other explanation for why he had chosen the same refuge as Gaara, the same place to go when being around people just got to be too much. It was practically suicide to risk being around Gaara when he was at his most antisocial, because when it came to Gaara, 'antisocial' and 'murderous' meant pretty much the same thing. Of course, when it came to Sakon, 'utterly insane' and 'completely genius' could very well work as synonyms, as not even Temari was willing to go up to the roof of the Kazekage's tower when there was a chance that Gaara was there. So in the end, Sakon got his privacy at the expense of his personal safety. Not that the white-haired pretty boy seemed to care, which was just plain irritating, when you got right down to it, considering how much fucking trouble Kankuro and Temari had gone to in order to convince Baki-sensei to just seal off the majority of Sakon's power instead of just killing him on the spot. How much trouble they had gone to in order to keep Sakon mostly out of Gaara's way until their little brother got used to having the Sound-nin around. It had been a lot of trouble, but after Baki-sensei had finally decided not to slit Sakon's throat while he was still out cold, the Sand jounin had turned to Kankuro and told him straight-out that since Kankuro had been the one to spare the Sound-nin's life, he was the one responsible for him. Kankuro hadn't even had time to point out that Sakon was a present to Temari, and was therefore her responsibility, not his. Not that Baki-sensei would have listened.

Sakon didn't make it easy, either. The first thing he had done upon regaining consciousness was throw himself at Kankuro and attempt to throttle him. It had startled Kankuro enough that the Sound-nin had actually managed to get his hands around Kankuro's throat before Temari stepped in and slapped the white-haired shinobi with enough force to knock him senseless. It was later, after the kid had gathered his wits about him, that he asked what had happened to his brother. Kankuro was angry enough about the bruises encircling his neck that he had answered with the truth. The disbelief that colored every plane of the slight shinobi's face had been sudden and fleeting. The sobs had lasted much longer and had almost been enough to make Kankuro feel something very akin to pity. Almost. But not quite. Kankuro had never possessed much in the way of empathy.

Another three days had passed before Temari had wrangled the Sound-nin's name out of him, and it took an additional four for Sakon to stop snarling at everything that moved long enough for Baki-sensei to even consider letting him out of the hospital wing. By then, Kankuro had seriously begun wondering what he had eaten that made him think bringing a Sound-nin home for Temari's birthday present was even remotely a good idea. Of course, by then Temari had decided she found Sakon both amusing and good eye candy, and if Kankuro listened to his elder sister on such matters, there was a depressing shortage of both in Sunagakure, so there was little chance of convincing her that getting rid of her new pet, her new, trained to kill people pet, was in their best interest.

So Kankuro had learned to live with it. Learned to live with the bitter glares that he got every time he entered a room (luckily Sakon turned out to be too smart to actually try and kill him after the first attempt; apparently there were some brains and survival instincts behind those pretty eyes after all). Learn to live with the distinct feeling of having an enemy sleeping down the hall. Learned to live with the fact that Temari had actually been taking his seriously when he had called Sakon a boy-toy (thank God she was willing to wait until the slight Sound-nin had stopped growing before actually doing anything. Some things were too horrible to visualize). Learned to live with being sent up to the roof of the Kazekage's tower every time Sakon disappeared because Temari did not want her brains scattered across the streets of Sand Village on the off chance Gaara was in an exceptionally bad mood, and because Sakon was 'his responsibility.'

It was only a fortunate turn of luck that Kankuro knew Gaara to be out of the village on a mission and therefore not brooding on the roof, so this time around he didn't hesitate on the landing before walking up to stand directly behind where Sakon was sitting, staring out at the desert that bordered Sunagakure. "Hey, pretty boy, Temari's looking for you."

Sakon's head turned, giving Kankuro a good look at the Sound-nin's profile. The nickname really was ridiculously apt. All of the injuries Sakon had sustained fighting against him had healed, so cleanly that they hadn't left a single scar. Why the Sound-nin bothered painting his face, here, where he was little more than a prisoner, was puzzling, but where he had gotten a hold of the paint was not. Kankuro may have had a nearly endless supply of Kabuki face paint, but he still noticed when some of it went missing, and Sakon made no effort to hide his raids into Kankuro's private quarters. Kankuro didn't particularly care; the fact that even with most of his chakra sealed, the Sound-nin could still manage to maneuver his way around the numerous traps Kankuro set in his room was impressive in a way that didn't necessary garner interest, but was enough for Kankuro to let the theft continue without interference. And Kankuro had to admit that the younger shinobi did look good like that, the different colors artfully applied, knew how to use the paint to full effect, to enhance, rather than to mask as Kankuro did.

However, the scowl tended to ruin it, more so because Sakon's usual defiance was absent from his eyes. He looked tired. Which just took all the fun out of it, really. Despite himself, Kankuro had to ask, "Something wrong?"

Sakon turned away to look back out at the desert. When he finally spoke, his voice was bereft of the expected vitriol. "I hate you."

Kankuro snorted and moved to sit beside the younger shinobi. "You aren't telling me anything I don't already know. I meant if there is something new you're sulking over."

Sakon closed his eyes. "I miss my brother." Kankuro couldn't quite restrain a flinch. It wasn't the words- he had heard them before, at night when wandering the halls and Sakon didn't think anyone else was around- it was the way the younger boy said it. No shinobi had the right to sound so young. Kankuro wasn't stupid; Sakon had killed people before, wasn't anything near an innocent, but the desperate, helpless tone of his voice made the Sound-nin sound… lost.

Kankuro had always known, in a distant, implied sort of way, that Sakon was the younger of the pair of twins he had fought in the woods over three months ago. Older siblings were supposed to protect younger siblings. That was the way it was supposed to go. Not in his family of course, but his family was screwed up on so many levels Kankuro couldn't even begin to count them. Gaara was better than he used to be, but it would barely affect him, one way or another, if Kankuro died. It was usually a depressing thought, but as Kankuro looked sideways at the pale-haired shinobi sitting next to him, black, angry seals cutting off the boy's power visible at his wrists and neck, his eyes shadowed by his hair almost enough to hide the twin pathways of tears sliding down his cheeks, Kankuro couldn't help but think that it wasn't always a good thing for a family to be close. Some things just hurt too much to live through with your soul intact.

"Hey."

Sakon didn't react. When Kankuro reached over to touch the younger boy on the shoulder, it was Sakon this time who couldn't restrain a flinch. But it seemed to do some good, at least; the pale-haired shinobi's eyes flashed, and his tone this time around was filled with the usual amount of enmity. "Don't touch me."

Kankuro raised his hands in a placating gesture. He really didn't want to deal with this. He didn't know how to deal with this. When Temari broke down, it was in private. When Gaara broke down, Kankuro got the hell out of the way. His family either did feelings big, violent and explosive, or not at all. But Sakon was his responsibility, so Kankuro did the best he could. "Alright. I won't."

They sat in silence for several minutes. Kankuro wasn't up here often- purposefully risking Gaara's wrath was something only done by the stupid, the crazed, and Sakon, though it could be argued that the former applied to the latter- but it was a nice view. The desert was a vast place, and beautiful in a way completely different from the forests of the Leaf country, which seemed to inspire an attitude of tranquility and harmony with nature. The desert, though… the desert was Nature, pure, undiluted, and likely to rip your head off at the slightest opportunity. A lot like Gaara, actually.

It wasn't long before out of the corner of Kankuro's eye, Sakon shifted, wrapping his arms around himself to try and keep out some of the chill that came with the setting of the desert sun. "I hate it here."

Kankuro shrugged. "Yeah, well, it isn't the easiest place to live, but it's home."

"Not for me."

It was then that Kankuro's patience, nigh infinite in battle but extremely limited elsewhere, ran out, and he bared his teeth in what could never be construed as a grin. "Your comrades are dead. Your leader had forgotten about you. Even if you did manage to leave the village, you would never make it out of the desert alive. Sunagakure is your home now. Learn to live with it, because I'm really getting sick of these stupid forays to the roof."

Sakon's lip curled in an unconscious parody of Kankuro's sneer. "It's you who brought me here."

"And I'm really starting to regret it."

"You should have left me to die with my brother."

Kankuro snorted. "Probably. But I didn't. So you're alive, even if your brother isn't. He's the one who saved your sorry ass. I just didn't bother finishing what I started. So blame him for this, if you're going to blame anyone." He shoved himself to his feet. "Personally, I think it's cold out and that we're missing dinner, and Temari is still waiting for me to drag you downstairs so you two can play Parcheesi or whatever it is she wants, so let's go already."

Sakon lip twitched, the shadows under his eyes fading. Well, at least it was an improvement over horribly depressed. "I've never actually seen a Parcheesi board since I got here." Nevertheless, he pushed himself to his feet. "I suppose I can't put it off forever."

Kankuro grinned, glad that… whatever it was, was finally over. "About time."

They headed for the stairs. This time, when Kankuro casually slung an arm over Sakon's shoulders, the younger boy didn't push him away. Temari would probably call it progress. Kankuro didn't really feel like calling it anything, but maybe bringing the kid home wasn't as bad an idea as he had originally thought. Hell… at least this could never get as bad as dealing with Gaara.