Thanks to ohud63 and Axel0913 for the reviews. I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter!

All characters belong to Kishimoto-san

Chapter 11: Shukaku, the One-Tailed Beast

"So, tell me again why I have these random pots of plants in my room?"

Temari was currently sitting with Kankuro in the common room, a small area at one end of the top floor of the hotel. It was reserved for the Sunagakure guests, so Temari and Kankuro had the area all to themselves.

"Stop asking me, Kankuro," Temari said as she flipped aimlessly through the channels on the TV. "I already told you Baki put them there."

"But why?" Kankuro asked, for what was possibly the tenth time. He was sitting on the floor, tinkering with one of his puppets, Kuroari or Black Ant. Bits of tools lay scattered about in a disorganized way, and a small pile of wood was stacked by his side.

"You better vacuum that up," Temari said, referring to the sawdust on the floor.

Kankuro shrugged. "Gaara can do it."

"If you want him to hold a grudge later, then be my guest."

Kankuro paused his work, looking up at his sister in alarm. "You're right. I don't want him to kill me. I'll just clean this up later."

Temari watched as Kankuro continued his work, connecting two wires together and then looping it through another wire. She wasn't really interested in whatever Kankuro was doing, but there was nothing good on TV—not that she recognized the shows in the first place—and she was getting increasingly bored.

"What club do you think you'll join?" Temari asked, more for the sake of starting a conversation than out of curiosity.

Kankuro shrugged, his attention still focused on his puppets. "Probably not the same one as Gaara. I think he'll join the fight club, or whatever it's called."

"Yeah, makes sense for him to join that," Temari agreed. "Uzumaki Naruto is joining that, isn't he?"

"Yup," said Kankuro. "Honestly, I think it'd be fun to join the fight club and show all these Konohagakure kids who's better, but Gaara's already there and I don't want to be anywhere near him."

"But Baki will blame us if Gaara causes trouble again."

"Yeah, but it won't be our fault if we're in a different class."

Temari shrugged. Kankuro had a point there. "You're right. Besides, it's probably better if we split up. That way, we can cover more ground."

"I still think Hatake Kakashi is suspicious," Kankuro declared. "He might be an ANBU in disguise, but why is he also acting as a teacher, then? Shouldn't he be more hidden than this? We recognized him right away when we saw him!"

"You mean Gaara and I recognized him. You didn't." Temari corrected. "But anyways, Hatake Kakashi isn't a problem for now. Just leave him alone and focus on looking for the actual threats."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Kankuro said. "But, hey, I think I saw an arts and crafts club today. That's totally my department."

"Yeah, why don't you freak them out with your robots?" Temari smirked. "I don't think they mean your robotic puppets when they say, 'arts and crafts'."

"Oh, shut up," Kankuro said. "My puppets are great! They so classify as art."

"Can't argue there," Temari said. "You're the artistic type. Just look at the makeup on your face."

"Hey, this isn't makeup!" Kankuro said indignantly. "This is face paint! It's an ancient tradition you wouldn't understand!"

Temari rolled her eyes at him. "Wouldn't something like a robotics club be better for you?"

"Nah, man," said Kankuro, waving a piece of wood at her as if to prove a point. "My puppets are mostly wood. I like to stick to traditional puppets."

"Right, which explains how Baki-sensei got electrocuted that one time he stepped on one of your puppets."

"Hey, that was an accident!" Kankuro explained. "He stepped on it himself, anyways."

There was a moment of silence again as neither of them knew what to say next. Temari glanced at the clock hanging on the wall; it was almost time for dinner.

"Hey," Temari started, "What do you think you'll do in the future?"

Kankuro didn't reply, and for a moment Temari wondered if he hadn't heard her.

"I dunno," Kankuro eventually said. "I think I'd like to continue making puppets. Maybe I'll go be an engineer or something, or maybe a mechanic, you know?"

"I think I'd like to get out of Sunagakure," Temari said. "Go out and see the world, and get away."

Though Temari hadn't said to get away from what exactly, her brother nodded, understanding. "That's a good idea. We should go together."

"Yeah."

There were these moments, Temari thought, where she and her brother completely understood each other. That wasn't such a surprise, though, Temari reflected, considering their family background and the way they had been raised as the children of the Kazekage, with only each other to depend on.

"Temari-san, Kankuro-san, I brought dinner."

Temari glanced away from Kankuro. It was Baki, and Temari was glad for the distraction.

"Wait, is that pizza?" Kankuro asked, standing up and brushing the sawdust off his clothes. Baki winced as he watched the sawdust pile onto the floor, forming little yellow mountains on the navy carpet.

"Yes, it is pizza," Baki said, moving the pizza boxes out of Kankuro's reach. "Please wash your hands first, Kankuro."

Kankuro made a run for the bathroom and was soon back, his hands still dripping with water. He put his hands out and Baki reluctantly gave his eager student a box.

"Is Gaara joining us?" Temari asked, also accepting a box.

Baki shook his head. "Gaara-sama has chosen to stay in his room tonight. I have already given him a few slices."

That was another thing about Baki, Temari noticed; he was only respectful when he felt like it, and even then, he never addressed Temari or Kankuro as "sama". It was always Gaara, as the Kazekage's heir, who was treated with the utmost respect. Temari knew it was a sore subject for Kankuro, the fact that their father had chosen Gaara—who had proven to be more skilled than Kankuro in all sorts of Kazekage-related activities—as the heir to Suna Corp and as the next Kazekage. Kankuro acted like he didn't care, and he did enjoy building puppets more than managing businesses and fighting, but Temari knew that, deep down, Kankuro was a bit resentful of their youngest brother.

Temari opened her pizza box to reveal the truth of Baki's statement: half the pizza slices were gone. Temari wasn't sure Gaara would eat so much—that was Kankuro's role—but she shrugged and fished one out of the box.

"Do you still have your suit, Kankuro?" Baki asked as the two siblings ate their pizza.

"Yeah, why?"

"The Uchihas have invited us over for a banquet this Friday."

Kankuro stopped eating, the pizza halfway to his mouth. "The Uchihas? As in Uchiha Sasuke?"

"Yes. As the two of you know, they oversee the police force in Konohagakure, and so it only makes sense, as the children of the Kazekage, that they would offer to protect you."

"But a banquet," Kankuro said in disbelief.

Temari didn't really like the formal atmosphere of banquets, but she knew Kankuro disliked it even more; he wasn't very fond of wearing suits.

"It's the polite thing to do when important guests visit," Baki said. "And so, in turn, we, as the guests, should accept and go."

Kankuro groaned and Temari couldn't help but agree. She wasn't looking forward to eating with Uchiha Sasuke, either.

.

Gaara sat on his bed, quietly eating a slice of pizza that Baki had given him. He stared at the wall, still seeing the disturbing images of Yashamaru falling.

Once he finished the food, he went to shower. He stayed in the water for a long time, trying to stall for as long as possible. He knew what would happen once he fell asleep.

It was well past midnight by now, and the moon was bright in the sky. Gaara tried not to fall asleep as he reorganized his clothes, and rearranged the cacti plants, and then went to read a book. However, he soon finished the short novel and, by this point, his eyes were already closing on their own.

Submitting to his fate, Gaara got in bed and closed his eyes.

.

It was just darkness at first. And then, slowly, Gaara could make out the outlines of his hands, and then his feet. He stood atop a castle, made purely of sand, overseeing the vast darkness.

Gaara did not wonder where he was; he knew he was in the same place he always went to in his dreams, the land ruled by it.

Gaara made no moves, standing as still as the sand beneath him. Eventually a figure appeared from the darkness. Gaara was not surprised to see it was Yashamaru.

"Why are you here, Gaara?" Gaara's uncle asked, walking towards him.

"You are the one who forced me here," Gaara replied. Yashamaru was at the foot of the castle now, staring up with strange yellow eyes.

"You do not sound happy to see me."

It was now his mother, the same image as from the pictures Gaara had seen back home in Sunagakure.

Gaara clenched his fists. "I am never happy to see you, and you are never happy to see me. Why don't you show yourself?"

His mother laughed and once again the figure changed, this time to that of the fourth Kazekage.

"You always were such a disgrace," Rasa said. "You should die for killing those people. You should pay in blood."

Blood was rising from the ground, running upwards and into the sand. The ground beneath Gaara's feet turned red, and the faces of his past victims appeared, etched in the sand.

Save us, Gaara-sama.

Why did you kill us, Gaara-sama?

Die with us, Gaara-sama!

Gaara took a step back, but there was nothing behind him. He was falling suddenly, into the pitch-black chasm of hate and fear.

.

Gaara woke up, sweat dripping from his face. It took him a few minutes before he could open his eyes, fearing the sight of a familiar monster.

There was only the moon and the stars, as seen from behind his hotel window. There was no one else in the room besides him, and Gaara felt a little silly for being afraid. He checked the time; only half an hour past three. The red-haired boy lay in bed for a while, staring at the moon, which offered him no comfort. Before he knew it, Gaara had drifted back into the realm of his enemy.

.

"Hello again."

He was atop the sand castle again. There was a figure below him, but Gaara could not make out who it was.

"Are you ready to die?" The figure asked. The face changed until it was a girl's, with blond hair tied up in four pigtails: Temari.

Temari pulled on a gun and fired at him. As the bullets raced towards him, they changed into heat-seeking missiles and Gaara could not avoid them. Suddenly they were knives flying at him, the same type of knives as the one Yashamaru had held on the night he had died, the same one Gaara had used to carve the word for "love" on his forehead.

The knives flew at him and Gaara braced himself for impact, but nothing came. The knives seemed to fly right through him, disappearing into the darkness.

And suddenly it was Kankuro, commanding an army of robotic puppets, each of them as large as Gaara himself. They encircled him on top of the castle, each armed with various weapons.

"Why were you born?" Kankuro growled. "Mother would be alive if you'd never been born!"

The puppets were next to him now, and Gaara saw the faces of the people he knew on them. The one nearest him turned its head, revealing the ever-familiar face of his uncle.

"Why did you steal my sister away from me?" Yashamaru whispered, his hands reaching for Gaara's throat. "Do you think your existence means anything? You are nothing."

It was the pistol again, the muzzle pressed painfully against his temple. Except it was no longer his uncle, but his father.

"Goodbye, Gaara."

Rasa pulled the trigger, and pain exploded in his head.

Still Gaara said nothing, even as he felt the sand crumbling beneath his feet. He struggled to maintain his balance as the sand castle disappeared, leaving him on eye level with the figure.

"What do you want?" Gaara demanded. "Why do you always come before me? Begone, you monster!"

The figure snarled and expanded, changing form while doing so. Gaara flinched, watching as his father's dark brown hair turned lighter, and his head rounder, as cat-like ears protruded from his father's head. Dark blue markings wound its way throughout the figure's massive body, all the way to the long tail that had just appeared.

"Begone? How dare a human tell me to be gone!" The monster roared.

Gaara stood his ground, though he was trembling slightly. "I can tell you to do whatever I want! You are merely a part of my imagination! You exist only in my dreams! You are not real!"

"Not real?" The monster hissed. "Not real? You and I both know I am very much real."

"You are not, and will never be," Gaara asserted. "I created you, and I will kill you."

The monster laughed. "Then why do you call me by name, little boy? Did I not give you my name, Shukaku?"

"I named you," said Gaara, but he could feel his courage seeping out. "I gave you that name!"

Shukaku laughed again, its yellow eyes mocking. "You can't deny that I exist, boy. And once you are fully asleep, I will take over your body and kill everyone around you!"

Gaara knew this made no sense—he was already asleep so how could he fall asleep? —but still the youngest son of the Kazekage could not help but cower beneath the giant monster's taunting.

"You will never control me!" Gaara vowed. "You can't control me! I am your creator, and I am telling you to disappear!"

Gaara swallowed, hoping Shukaku would vanish, but his hopes were in vain. Shukaku remained before him, looking amused, its tail swinging back and forth, creating large gusts of wind that stung his eyes.

"Is that the best you can do, boy?" Shukaku smiled, revealing the shadows from its jagged mouth. It opened its mouth wide, swallowing Gaara until he was surrounded by nothing but dark emptiness.

And suddenly Gaara was running, his legs straining to take longer and faster strides. The overwhelming feeling of fear drowned him as he continued to run, desperately trying to flee.

"You know there is no escape from me, no matter where you try to hide!" Shukaku howled. "I will hunt you down and kill you! Just try to run, little boy!"

.

Gaara jerked awake, his breathing coming in uncontrollable gasps. The sky outside was still dark and Gaara wished it were morning already. It was five a.m. now. He had only slept two hours, less than what he normally got at four hours, but he knew he could not sleep any longer. Gaara got out of bed as fast as he could, nearly tripping over the edge of the bed, searching for the refuge known as tea.