This chapter digs into Temari and Kankuro's upbringing. Trigger warning: there is a brief mention of child abuse in Kankuro's section, but no depiction of the event itself, just the aftermath.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.
The next morning, Gaara woke up early—rather he never went to sleep—desperate to know how the investigation was progressing. According to the intel unit, every nurse on staff was interrogated to no avail: not one of them could identify who Ebizo's nurse had been on the day of the attack. Between sudden changes in the rotational schedule, call-outs, and passing rumors about the Suna Princess, this key detail allegedly slipped through the cracks; Gaara wasn't sold. He ordered a second round of questioning.
A second inspection of Ebizo's room revealed the window by his bedside to be unlocked. Baki noted that the perpetrator could have very well slipped out as soon as they heard the guard kicking down the door. Ebizo's room laid on the outskirts of the house grounds, facing the rest of the village. The Kazekage and his former sensei concluded the escape could mean two things: either the perpetrator was still lurking around the house or they slipped out into the village. In either case, Gaara ordered increased security around both entities starting immediately. Whoever was behind this, he couldn't let them spark uproar so close to the festival.
Now at 6:00 AM, he sat in his office staring, wide-eyed, out the window. Why hadn't Shikamaru gotten back to him yet? As Gaara contemplated the situation, he spotted a note being slipped underneath his door. When he approached, the messenger was gone. He inspected the letter carefully before reading it.
Lord Kazekage,
On behalf of the Council, I can't express how happy we are to see and prepare for Lady Temari's marriage to Nara Shikamaru of Konohagakure. It pleases us that our two villages will be strengthened by the union of two highly respected shinobi. However.
It is only fitting that you match your sister's pace and find a partner to secure Suna's future with. And with yesterday's threat to our leadership, the matter gains more and more importance by the hour. Perhaps today, we can discuss a list of prospects I've so graciously compiled?
We look forward to supporting your, as well as your sister's, future.
Senior Head of Suna Council,
Tojuro
Gaara closed the note and steadied himself on his desk. This was...not what he needed at the moment. There was no way they could be adding an engagement for himself to the list of current priorities.
The aim of the note wasn't lost on him. Was the Council threatening to pull support from Temari's engagement if he didn't cooperate? They certainly weren't above it. If it meant keeping the Kazekage line strictly within the native land, they would leverage anything.
He couldn't tell his sister about this note. Nor that he planned to comply with its demands until he could prove Tojuro had attempted to kill the Senior Head. Once more, he collapsed in his seat.
What was taking Shikamaru so long with that report?
Her dream that night came out of nowhere.
Karura gestured for Temari to enter her room. Though the spirited toddler never entered her parents' rooms, she was deeply interested in this woman whose eyes were so blue they looked like the sea in her storybooks. She heeded her request.
"Temari, sit with me. I'd like to fix your hair."
The child allowed herself to be raised onto the woman's lap. She peered at the dresser mirror which gave her a good view of the woman, who was now brushing out her own hair to be sectioned.
"Temari, you know I'm you're mother, right?"
The question didn't register with the child who was too busy playing with the items on the vanity. Tiny decorative combs. A jewelry box. A row of weird-smelling perfumes. And behind them, a miniature wooden fan with several flowers imprinted on it.
Karura sighed. "I suppose it's my fault that I'm such a stranger to you. The attendants care for you, after all. The minute you and Kankuro were born, you were both whisked away from me." The woman parted one section of hair, tenderly, and made a ponytail.
"Rasa said it was for the good of the village. But, in the end, neither of you was compatible." Temari cooled herself with the wooden fan and sounded it out. Com-pa-ti-bull…
A faint tear splattered atop her head. The woman was sniffling.
"If only...if only I got to hold you more...Maybe you'd call me mom." She parted the second ponytail, shaking.
Temari did not know why this woman was crying but it saddened her. The child turned in the woman's lap using her new toy to fan her tears away. Karura smiled.
"You're so kind." The kid cocked her head. Kind? The woman nodded.
"And spunky!"
Spunky? Her vocabulary was not equipped to handle all these new words.
Karura finished the last two ponytails while Temari explored the other trinkets. Afterward, she lifted the child so she had a better view in the mirror.
"See, Temari? Now your hair matches your personality." The child clapped her hands at the new look. When the two stood up, only then did she realize that the petite woman had an unusually round stomach.
She pointed a chubby finger at the bump. "Are you fat?"
"No, not exactly," Karura laughed, touching her belly instinctively. "Though there's nothing wrong with that. I'm pregnant."
The child stared. Another word she didn't know.
"I'm holding your baby brother. I haven't decided what to name him yet. But when he comes, I'll have it." She paused thoughtfully before lowering herself to the child's level. "Listen, Temari. You're still very young, so you won't get much of this. But you have a big role in this family. You're a big sister to Kankuro, and now this baby. You're like their guardian, their protector."
A cloud must have passed over the window in the room because the light dimmed considerably.
"If anything should happen to me, or your father, please remember to stick with your brothers. Make sure they eat, get rest."
Temari shuffled her tiny feet. Why did she have to look after Kankuro? Even at two, his scrunched nose and crabby eyes reminded her of that old man who roamed the halls, always bossing people around. The one who could manipulate gold dust as he pleased but never once made her a sandcastle when she asked. Rasa. She didn't like Rasa very much.
"Promise me you'll look after them, if anything should happen," Karura said.
"Okay!" Temari replied, just to see the woman happy. Karura nodded solemnly then picked up the fan off the vanity.
"Take this. You seem to like it." The child jumped. She had indeed taken quite a fancy towards the object. She hopped about the room, stirring the air around herself, around Karura. And the woman with the deep blue eyes laughed and laughed and laughed…
Temari awoke from her dream with a startle. Sweat was beading in the crevice of her fingers.
Soft morning light filtered in from the window. As she regained her bearings, she actually wasn't sure if it was a dream or some repressed memory. The scene, the dialogue. It all felt so tangible. Like it could have taken place. Then again, it almost felt like too much was said. The way Karura talked about compatibility: there was no way a toddler would have understood what she meant by that. Only years later had Temari and Kankuro learned that, as infants, they were both furiously tested to see if they could contain the One-Tail demon, Shukaku, inside them. Little experiments, they were. Temari came quite close. Kankuro rejected the beast altogether. This was all before Gaara was even a thought.
Temari realized she could be fooling herself. Maybe this was her way of piecing together a hazy, incomplete past. Who had given her her first fan? She swore it was a gift from somebody. She just couldn't say who. And the trinket was long gone by now, a lost relic of a misplaced childhood.
Beside her, Shikamaru's forehead remained pressed to her shoulder, his right arm slung around her hip. His mouth hung agape as he snored inaudibly. The plan to "leave before it got too late" had failed as they both clocked out in the middle of playing cards to ease their worries.
A glance at her alarm clock read 8:00 AM; she was already late for the day. She had to report to Gaara everything Shikamaru told her, excluding the envelope which was now tucked away in her nightstand drawer. She'd keep that to herself for the time being. As she peeled herself away from her guest, letting him sleep a little more, a knock on the door caught her off-guard. Certainly, the staff was notified of recent events and wouldn't be roaming the halls so freely.
"Who is it?" she asked.
"Hibiki! If you would, may I speak with you?"
Of all people...
Temari slipped out the door and swiftly closed it behind her. No way would this nosy visitor get a chance to peek inside. Hibiki bowed stiffly, a clipboard pressed against her chest.
"I thought I'd get you while the day was still early." Hibiki handed her a sheet. "The Council sent me to approve a list of items for your big day." Dressed in her robe, pajama pants, and footsie socks, Temari appeared absolutely bewildered.
"As you can see," the advisor rattled. "We must consider flower arrangements, dinner menu, guest list, invitations, ceremony practices—"
"Ah—just hold on! I get this is part of your job but this is a lot for so early on."
Wrinkling her nose, Hibiki responded, "I thought you'd want to get as much planning done as possible during your stay."
Temari placed two fingers to her temples. Actually, she was hoping for a more casual visit but circumstances change quickly, don't they? She told Hibiki they would consult with her about the list later, but first, she had to see Gaara concerning...some matters. Hibiki replied that the Kazekage was stuck in a meeting with the Seniors all morning, also concerning...some matters. The princess heaved a sigh. Just once, she'd appreciate it if everything in that house wasn't shrouded behind ten veils of secrecy.
"Given his meeting, there's no reason the three of us should delay our planning. Suppose we meet in an hour? I'll go inform Sir Nara of the plans—"
"No!" The sudden outburst sent the advisor flying.
"I mean," Temari composed herself. "I'll tell him. He's a heavy sleeper, he won't answer if you knock."
Hibiki surveyed her for a moment but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. Just as she was leaving, she advised the princess to be careful navigating the house and village that morning. Earlier, the Kazekage ordered increased security around both following the discovery that the perpetrator might have slipped out the window.
"This very well could be an attack from another land. Please be alert." With that, Hibiki departed. Temari returned inside; she didn't appreciate them jumping to conclusions and blaming shinobi from other lands. Shikamaru, still dressed in yesterday's uniform, did not stir.
As Kankuro searched the storage area of the puppet workshop that morning, he considered the many lessons he learned over the years. The first being that when faced with a particular kind of trouble, Gaara was prone to tackle things alone. Sadly, this was a lingering byproduct of his guilt for having terrorized the Sand Village as its former Jinchuriki. However, this gave Kankuro more reason to step up and do his part; never again would he let his younger brother go through that turmoil alone.
The second lesson he'd learn, as Captain of the Counter-Terror Division, was that the most seasoned criminals always covered their tracks. If a pursuer managed to dig deep enough and secure even a hint of evidence, then the pursuer was likely already caught in the perpetrators' trap.
He kept all this in mind while reviewing the poisons in storage. That morning, the medical unit finished its scan of the toxin used to attack Ebizo. The concoction was identified as one that targeted and blocked the flow of blood to the heart before quickly dissolving into the body's bloodstream, without a trace. To an unsuspicious eye, the effects would look completely natural. The perpetrator was close, too: all they had to do was completely feed Ebizo the brew. Then when he died, everyone would blame it on a mere heart attack and old age.
But, even more concerning was that shinobi almost never used this strain of poison. To be effective, the victim has to intake a certain amount. All this made Kankuro wonder: was the perpetrator really some shinobi from another Land sent to dispose of the Senior Head? It didn't quite make sense. Once the assassin infiltrated the room, all they would have to do was inflict a poison-laced weapon into the Senior Head and disappear. Any standard poison would do the trick; a foreign shinobi wouldn't particularly care if the scene looked intentional or not.
Kankuro walked down the aisle of sealed toxins until he reached the section he was looking for. The perpetrator was very keen on framing Ebizo's attempted murder as an accidental heart failure. But why, unless they were trying to achieve some other gain? He hated the idea that it really was one of his own people, but it was becoming more likely. As he consulted his inventory list, his mouth tightened.
All of them are accounted for. Not one jar is missing. Something wasn't adding up.
If it was an inside job, they would have to get the poison from somewhere. And no one but the puppet workshop brewed this rare concoction for miles. He leaned against the opposite wall and crossed his arms.
Oddly, the row of unassuming jars containing severely life-threatening substances reminded him of something from his childhood…
All he wanted was a cookie. That's it. One measly cookie.
"No," Temari said.
Kankuro scrunched his face. "Why not?" She ignored him and continued to practice writing her characters. He tugged at the bottom of her shirt.
"Why not?"
"No cookies before dinner. Those are the rules."
He let go, pouting. "You're no fun."
It was true that at only seven-years-old, Temari felt more like a mother than his big sister. But not the type of mother who told lullabies or kissed his wounds. More like the type that told him to shut up and go to bed after a certain hour. Admittedly, she gave him more boo-boos than she kissed; maybe she was his sister in that respect. He assumed her starting the Academy gave her an additional ego boost.
He left her to go sneak into the kitchen. Technically, she said no cookies before dinner. She didn't say cookies couldn't be his actual dinner.
Grabbing a stool, he climbed atop the tall counter where the gold resided. Five jars stacked full of delicious treats. Even at six-years-old, he knew he'd have to execute this right. If he took too much from one jar, someone would notice. If he took from the first two, it would still look odd. But...
He carefully unscrewed each jar lid. Grabbing a napkin, he took one cookie out of each of the five jars and screwed back on each lid. Finally, he wiped down the lids and stray crumbs on the counter for good measure.
He heh heh. She won't look twice, he thought mischievously.
On his way back to his room, he thought about the treats shoved in his pockets. Five cookies were kind of a lot for one kid's stomach.
Maybe Gaara would like some…Ultimately, he decided against it.
He didn't know much about his little brother. At four-years-old, Gaara was always carted away from the other two siblings. Some days Kankuro forgot what he looked like. On rare occasions when he'd catch the little red-headed boy with the wide-awake eyes, he'd think about going up to him. Saying hi. Maybe asking him to come play with him. But on each of those occasions, old man Rasa was always around, ordering him to leave the toddler alone. Rasa never explained himself, only brusquely telling Kankuro that he was "watching him".
Kankuro absent-mindedly thought about this as he plopped onto his bed. Rasa was always "watching" Gaara. Watching for what? Oh well, it wasn't his problem. He had his prize, more than he was hoping for, and he enjoyed every bit of it.
The next day, Temari confronted Kankuro after spotting the dissipated trail of crumbs leading to his bedroom door. She knew he took cookies when he wasn't supposed to.
The boy appeared innocent. "Did you see me take them?"
"No. But I saw those measly crumbs!"
"That could be anyone's. Are any cookies missing from the jar?"
She paused. "No, they looked full."
"Then there you have it!"
Temari narrowed her eyes. She hated being wrong, especially when she knew she was right. She turned away, her cheeks fire red.
"I can't prove it this time so you're free. But don't let him catch you. I warned you."
He was completely satisfied with the outcome of this investigation. "Okay, sis." Finally! He had managed to pull one over on her.
Later, Kankuro would try the same trick, believing no one was around. Alas, when he made it to the top of the counter, a gruff voice emerged from the doorway, asking him what he thought he was doing. Kankuro whipped his head around. It was old man Rasa. Uh oh. This was bad. No, Temari catching him at the scene of the crime would have been bad. This was something dreadful.
That night, the middle child went to bed crying. He didn't have to hit him like that. Sure, he had broken the rules. But didn't every kid break the rules at least once? He lay crawled upon his pillow, his back now turned to his favorite puppets dangling off the side of the bed.
To his surprise, Temari came by his room, asking if he was alright. The boy wiped furiously at his damp cheeks; he had to maintain some semblance of dignity. Taking a seat on his bed, she brought his tearful face into a hug. He couldn't quite believe it, but he was too distraught to object to the strangely warm and alien gesture. The attendants were only so comforting in these times. The most they'd give him was a pat on the shoulder before sending him off to deal with his emotions on his own. For a moment, Temari's embrace felt exactly like something he'd expect from a mother, the type that told lullabies. The type that kissed his wounds. Is this what other kids ran home to every day?
"I did warn you," she said abruptly, still cradling him.
His bottom lip poked out. She just had to ruin it.
That's it!
Kankuro frantically searched the storage area for a scale. If he was right about this…
Once he located it, he took the several jars which contained the poison potentially used in the attack. They were each labeled as weighing 30 kg. One by one, he placed them on the scale.
First reading: 29.965.
Second reading: 29.9723.
Third reading: 29.998.
He finished weighing the rest of them. It wasn't a coincidence. Every container was supposed to have exactly 30 kg as labeled. The workshop shinobi were extremely meticulous in their measurements. Someone had extracted a little bit of poison from each of the jars and fairly recently. Kankuro was slightly impressed. Had everything gone right for the assassin, even the most trained eye would never suspect someone had lifted material from the workshop.
One thing was certain: the perpetrator was definitely an insider. And they were keen on covering their tracks. He checked the time: 8:30 AM. The puppet workshop was a fair way from the house.
I've gotta tell Gaara and Temari about this.
