Title: Mail Call
Rating: K
Pairing: None
Word
Count: 536
Warning/s: Spoilers for the Retrieving Gaara!arc of the manga
Summary: It's an ordinary morning in the Kazekage's palace--until Gaara brings in the mail.
Notes: I'm
beginning to believe our bathroom is a dangerous place. Why is it
that more story ideas strike when I'm brushing my teeth or washing my
hair than at any other time? And why do these particular plotbunnies
attach themselves to my ankles and beg me to write sandsib!crack!fic?
This one...takes place sometime after Gaara returns. Doesn't
particularly matter when. It's also OOC like whoa but I had fun
writing it. And this is for kimi no vanilla
even though Kakashi!angst makes her happier, because the
Kankurou-on-a-mission!fic is ever so slow, and she's the first person
to make me like Kankurou.
-
Gaara wandered into the kitchen wearing a peculiar bemused expression as eerily mask-like as the jagged purple design Kankurou had decided on this morning. On Kankurou, the face-paint gave the impression of a sneering, supercilious laugh that told as little of his true feelings as Gaara's jade-green eyes ever had. On Gaara, the peculiar expression looked as if he'd just stepped in something foul and wasn't sure whether to kill whatever had left it there or pick it up and throw it at a random passer-by before hiding giggling in the nearest alley.
Temari told herself that she really needed to stop cloud-watching with Shikamaru, if even three weeks after an afternoon with the Leaf chuunin she was still pulling interpretations out of the dusty air.
"Mail," Gaara said flatly, and skimmed a magazine across the kitchen table to Kankurou. Kankurou immediately dropped the puppet joint he'd been greasing and pounced on the glossy issue of Shinobi World; Temari caught a glimpse of a line advertising Ten Ways to Tell if You Want to Kill Her or Kiss Her! and resolved to steal the magazine from Kankurou at the first opportunity.
"You got a letter, Temari," Gaara said. This time his aim wasn't quite so good; the letter nearly upset her cornflakes before she snatched it out of the air. It was postmarked from within Sunagakure, she saw with disappointment, tossing it back down to the table. It could wait till after breakfast.
"And bills for electricity, water, that building you leveled last week--" These sailed onto the table even more haphazardly than Temari's letter, landing in the fruit basket, Kankurou's glass of milk, and Temari's empty toast-plate. Kankurou pulled himself out of Shinobi World just long enough to rescue the one that had fallen into his milk. "Hey," he started indignantly, then stopped.
Gaara was still holding a stack of letters thick and heavy enough to use for a Kawarimi no Jutsu. Most were in the usual dusty beige envelopes, but several were purple, at least three were pink, and one was as red as Gaara's tattoo. Temari wrinkled her nose. Was that perfume--?
"Fan mail," Gaara said. "I'm going up to my room." He disappeared in a whirl of sand; Temari put her hand protectively over her corn flakes and stared across the table at Kankurou.
Her brother shrugged. "Had to happen sometime." He tried to dive back into Shinobi World. Temari pulled it out of his hands.
"You realize," she said dangerously, "that our little brother is up there answering fan mail at this very moment?"
"He's the Kazekage!" Kankurou protested. "Of course he's got fans--"
"Who send him letters in perfumed pink envelopes?"
Kankurou paused. "You think," he asked cautiously after a moment, "they're poisoned?"
"Idiot," Temari hissed. "I mean, he's got fangirls now! Doesn't that, well--"
"Scare you?" Gaara asked politely from the door. Temari froze. Gaara stared curiously at her for a moment before he stepped to the kitchen sink and filled himself a glass of water.
"Chocolate?" he asked, holding out the large heart-shaped box. "Imported from Tea Country. The cherry cordials are good."
Temari supposed there might be some benefits to fangirls after all.
