Two

Kankuro kicked free of the sand and then rolled away, tumbling over the side of his bed to the floor. The sand followed, trying to regain a hold on his legs. Kankuro pressed one hand to the floor, he had already tangled one of Gaara's arms with chakra strings, but that was not going to be enough. He would send more strings underneath the bed to catch hold of his brother's leg, pull Gaara off his feet, run to the workshop, get Karasu, and then he would show his brother and that stupid demon a thing or two.

It had been awhile since Gaara had done this, sneaking into his bedroom and attacking him. Since they had started doing missions he had been less violent at home. They had been on a long break however, and the demon must have gotten restless. So, they had gone back to the old game of tormenting Kankuro.

A chakra string licked at Gaara's ankle. He shifted away, but the string followed, trying to get a grip. Sand lifted Gaara off the floor, away from the flickering strands of chakra. Kankuro scrambled to his feet and shifted his attack; trying to snare Gaara's other arm. Gaara stepped away from the attack and swatted the string away. Kankuro was getting stronger, it took more effort to get him pinned these days, but that did not matter, the end result would be the same. Gaara made a sharp gesture and sand flew at his brother, lifting him off his feet and pinning him against a wall. Kankuro grunted with the force of the impact and began to struggle. He pulled hard, dislodging Gaara from his perch. He tried to think, there had to be something else in his room that he could use as a weapon against Gaara. He was not allowed to keep his puppets or any other weapons in his room. It was so unfair, Gaara went everywhere with his dumb gourd, but Kankuro's father would not allow Kankuro to have his weapon close by. The only things he could see via the moonlight shining through the window were an untidy pile of books on his desk and a pile of dirty clothes in the corner.

"Stupid creep, let me the hell down!"

Gaara applied more pressure. Kankuro kept struggling, teeth bared in a snarl. Moonlight painted his features, making the expression even more feral.

"There is no one else here tonight. No one is coming to save you."

"Never mind me, what about you? I'm going to rip your arm off!"

If Gaara had a sense of humour, he might have found that funny. Kankuro had always intrigued Gaara with his swearing and yelling and strange jutsu. No matter how many times he did this, Kankuro refused to show fear, admit defeat, or beg Gaara to let him go. Maybe that was why Gaara had never killed him. Kankuro had even managed to hurt Gaara once and some part of him was eager for the day when that happened again, when he might feel something other than madness and lust for blood.

He released his brother. "This bores me and you are not worth it."

By the time Kankuro slid to the ground, he was gone and so was the sand. Kankuro rested on his hands and knees a few moments, getting his wind back. He got to his feet, went to the bedroom door, and checked the hallway. Gaara was gone and everything was quiet; his father must have had a late meeting or was attending to some emergency. Kankuro shut the door and set the latch (not that it would keep Gaara out). He climbed back into his bed and rolled onto his back. He stared at the ceiling; once his heart stopped pounding, he should be able to fall back asleep. He was pretty sure that Gaara would not come back, but a good shinobi never assumed anything. He sat up and looked around; he should prepare, just in case.

"It's not fair," he muttered and kicked at the sheets in frustration. "I'll bet Temari gets to have a stupid fan in her room."

An idea occurred to him; he was not supposed to do it, but his father was not here. He probably would not return until morning and Kankuro would be up and gone by then. He grabbed his pillow and a blanket and went to the door. He lifted the latch and leaned out to check the hallway. Once he was sure it was clear, he crept out to the workshop. He grinned up at Karasu, who was hanging in his usual place. The puppet was the only thing properly put away in the small room.

"I hope he comes out here and tries to start something. We'll kick his ass then. Won't we Karasu?"

Kankuro put his blanket and pillow down in front of the puppet, lay down, and went to sleep.

-0000-

"Kankuro wake up."

Kankuro curled into a ball and pulled his blanket over his head.

"Umph, ten more minutes."

"Now Kankuro!"

Something in the tone of the voice made Kankuro sit up. He groaned, he had overslept and his father had found him in the workshop. He knuckled sleep out of his eyes and tried to come up with a good excuse.

The Fourth Kazekage frowned down at him. "What have I told you about this?"

"I didn't mean to, if I could just…"

"No, that's not it."

"But Gaara…"

"Don't use your brother as an excuse. What was it?"

Kankuro sighed, his shoulders slumping. "No puppets in the house, they're weapons, not wall art." A new argument occurred to him. "But I was allowed to have my snake with me."

"That was not a weapon."

"But a good shinobi should always have his weapons ready, right? How can I do that, when Karasu's way out here?"

The Kazekage squatted down in front of his son. "You are right about one thing; a good shinobi is always prepared. But what have I told you is your most important weapon?"

Kankuro deflated further. "But that's not the same thing, it's…"

"What is it?"

Kankuro tapped his forehead. "It's this, my brain."

"That is correct and it is with you at all times. You just have to learn to use it, Kankuro."

Kankuro sighed. "Yes, otō-san."

"Right then. So, let's get this day started, shall we? What are you doing today?"

"Classes until two, training with Baki, Gaara, and Temari until four. Are we ever going to get another mission? Training is boring."

"Is it? Then I suppose you don't want to do some training with me today?"

Kankuro sat up straight, his eyes going wide. "Really?"

"Yes, really." The Kazekage tapped Kankuro's forehead. "We'll work on using this."

"How do we do that?"

"You'll see." He held up a hand to forestall any more questions. "But first you have to get ready for the day. Go and get washed. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes."

"Yes, otō-san."

The Kazekage stood and left. Kankuro leaned back and grinned up at Karasu.

"What do you think it will be? Another type of weapon? Maybe you can learn to spit acid or something cool like that. Maybe another puppet. That would be the best!"

He scooped up his blanket and pillow and hurried into the house.

-0000-

Kankuro wrinkled his nose and looked up at his father. "A library? What are we going to do here?"

"Just as I said, training."

"With books? That's not training, that's studying."

Kankuro felt a huge wave of disappointment crash over him.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. I can do that in the school library."

"Ah," his father raised a finger, "but this is not the school library, it's a library just for shinobi. This is training, for your mind, just like we talked about this morning."

Kankuro made a face, still not convinced.

The Kazekage nudged his shoulder. "Let's go, I think you will be pleasantly surprised. You did not need to bring the puppet."

Kankuro adjusted the straps that held Karasu's heavy body in place. "You said we would be training. I need Karasu for that."

"Hmm, well." The Kazekage thought for a moment. "Actually, it's not a bad idea. She will be interested to see it."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see."

His father led the way into the small building. Kankuro was surprised to notice that it smelled a little like his work shop. There was the rich smell of wood, varnish, and glue, and there was another scent too, dry and almost musty. Kankuro guessed that it must be the books. And there were so many books. The library was a lot bigger than it looked on the outside, it could probably hold several school libraries and still have room left over. They passed shelves and shelves of books and scrolls, all in a neat and orderly alignment.

They finally arrived at a desk, which Kankuro guessed was a reception desk, because there was someone sitting behind it. It was a woman with dark gray flecked hair. She was wearing a pair of reading glasses. She looked up from a book as they approached. The glasses made it hard to tell what colour her eyes were.

"Kazekage-sama, good afternoon. How nice to see you again."

The Kazekage smiled. "Keiko-san, the pleasure is all mine."

It was a genuine smile, Kankuro noticed, not the one his father used when he had to be polite.

"I would like you to meet my son. Kankuro, this is Keiko-san. She is the librarian here."

Kankuro braced himself for all the usual stupid comments about how much he looked like his father, how nice that he was becoming a shinobi, and wasn't the Kazekage proud. He was pretty sure that he would hear the most hated comment of all, Keiko looked like the type, that Kankuro was just…so…cute.

However, Keiko said none of the usual things; she hardly seemed to see Kankuro at all. Instead, her eyes settled on Karasu's shaggy hair, sticking up over Kankuro's shoulder. The librarian cocked her head; it looked like she was trying to remember something.

"Hmm, battle puppet, attack style, humanoid, 45 kilos, brown hair and it looks like he has two pairs of arms. A scorpion maker's mark here?" She tapped her chin.

Kankuro nodded, too surprised to say anything.

"One of Sasori's, that is a little disconcerting. This must be Karasu, from folio number 27-96-297a. Well, good day to you Karasu, and good day to you too, Kankuro. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Kankuro gaped at the woman. No one had ever recognized Karasu before and Kankuro was the only one who called him by his name, the way a puppeteer was supposed to.

His father nudged him; he wanted Kankuro to make the appropriate response to Keiko's greeting.

"Are you a puppeteer?" he blurted out instead.

"Oh goodness, no. I am a librarian. I just recognized Karasu from the description of him in one of our reference collections."

"Reference collections? You mean books about puppets?"

There was nothing in the school library about puppet arts, which had caused trouble because some of the kids would not believe that there was such a thing. Kankuro had gotten into more than one fight over it.

"How many? Where are they?" he demanded.

"Kankuro," his father said in a warning tone.

"Uh, sorry. It's very nice to meet you too, Keiko-san."

"Not a problem at all, and yes we have books about puppets. I assume that you are most interested in the ones shinobi use, rather than those used for entertainment?"

Kankuro nodded.

"I thought so. We have a modest collection that covers several topics: history of the art, major battles, lists of puppets and their makers…"

"Keiko-san," the Kazekage interrupted, "before you do that…"

"My apologies Kazekage-sama. I do have those materials you requested ready."

Keiko's attention wandered away for a few moments. "Would you excuse me, please, Kazekage-sama? I will return shortly."

The Kazekage nodded, but Keiko did not seem to notice. She got up from the desk and strode off into the maze of shelves.

The Kazekage looked at Kankuro, one eyebrow raised. "So?"

"She knew Karasu! Can I see the books about puppets?"

"You will have to ask Keiko-san about that. But, I thought studying was boring?" The Kazekage grinned at his son.

Kankuro wrinkled his nose at the teasing tone; his father had known that he would be interested in this.

"I said training was boring. This place is so much cooler than the school library. Do you come here a lot? Thank-you for bringing me, otō-san."

"A thank-you? You must be impressed. I come here when I need help deciding difficult matters. There are many useful things here and I find these surroundings more conducive to clear thinking."

"You mean you don't like those stupid council members bugging you in your office, so you come here instead. You should just get Baki or someone to throw them out when they do that."

The Kazekage could not stifle his short bark of laughter. There were days when he wished he could do just that, and he was sure that Baki would be pleased to do more than just toss certain council members out of his office.

"Kankuro, you know that I can't…"

"Ah, Kazekage-sama, so sorry about that." Keiko had returned.

Kankuro noticed that she came back from the complete opposite direction of her departure. The librarian adjusted her glasses and sat back down at her desk.

She made a short sound of displeasure. "It is so disruptive when people cannot be bothered to follow the rules, isn't it?"

"Is there a problem, Keiko-san? Could I help?"

She waved the offer away. "No, no, but thank-you for your kind offer. I am sure you have more important things to do. Now, where were we? Oh, yes, shall I set you up in your usual spot?"

"Yes, please, that would be excellent."

"Good and as for you Kankuro…"

The librarian's gaze settled on him. Light winked off her glasses and Kankuro was reminded of the way sunlight would flash off steel. It was so strange, the way she was looking at him. He was being assessed…no, catalogued was maybe a better word.

Whatever, Kankuro thought, it is a little creepy. Not as creepy as the way Gaara stares, but still creepy.

"Where to start…?" she mused. "Ah, just the thing. There is that inventory done some years ago by a student of the Third. It has excellent drawings and clear descriptions. That will be perfect for a…"

Kankuro knew what she was going to say next. "I'm not a child! I'm eleven and I'm a shinobi, damn it!"

Kankuro hunched his shoulders up and made a face. He was not a child! He was a puppeteer and a shinobi. He had been on more missions then some of the chunin even.

Keiko's eyebrows lifted. "If profanity makes a man then I suppose you are one."

The Kazekage's large hand smacked into the back of Kankuro's head. "Boy, you will apologize this instant!"

The blow rocked Kankuro forward. He almost overbalanced because of Karasu's weight. He put his hands out to stop himself from crashing into the desk and Karasu's head slammed into the side of his head. He pressed his lips together and blinked to keep his eyes from watering. It really hurt, but he would not yell out or rub the back of his head.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, "but I'm not…"

"Kankuro! Don't make me…!"

"Indoor voice, please," Keiko said.

Kankuro ducked his head down further. He took a quick look at his father to make sure that he was not going to get smacked again, but the Kazekage was looking at Keiko with an incredulous expression on his face.

"I am afraid you misunderstand, Kankuro," Keiko continued. "What I was going to say was…it is a perfect start for your first visit. Regardless of your age, you must demonstrate the proper respect for the books before you are allowed access."

"Respect? For books?" Kankuro was not sure if he had heard Keiko right. His head was ringing a bit.

"Of course, for the books, and the knowledge they contain. Knowledge, information, these are a shinobi's best weapons. Therefore, they must be respected."

"That's wrong, my brain is my best weapon," Kankuro said.

"Damn it boy," the Kazekage growled.

"Well, that's what you said," Kankuro protested.

"Enough! If you can't be civil, then we will leave."

"No way! I want to see…"

"Both of you stop, please." Keiko sank back into her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "Yes, Kankuro your brain is your best weapon, but it only works when it is well exercised and well fed. Knowledge is what feeds it."

"That makes sense I guess," Kankuro said, "but…"

The Kazekage glared a warning at him. It was always the same thing with Kankuro, the Kazekage found himself torn between his pride in the boy's intelligence and his frustration with the boy's belligerence. The classic curse of parenthood was coming true with a vengeance; Kankuro was just like his father.

Kankuro shut his mouth and chewed the inside of his lip in frustration. He really wanted to see the books Keiko had mentioned. It was not fair to bring him here, tell him that books about puppets existed, and then not let him see them. He sighed, he knew what would work, it would sound lame, but it would do the trick.

"Keiko-san." He made his voice small and his eyes large. "I am very sorry. I promise I will be very careful with any book you see fit to give me."

He made a very deep bow, forgetting that he had Karasu strapped to his back. He tried to stop, but the momentum carried him right over so he smacked into Keiko's desk and then crashed to the floor.

"Damn it! Stupid desk!"

He scrambled to his feet, rubbing his forehead this time.

Idiot, he thought, you are so clumsy. It was working and then you screwed it up.

He looked at his father. The Kazekage's face was red and he had his chin tilted up in the way that meant that he was really, really angry. Kankuro grimaced; he was going to get it when they got home.

Keiko had her hand pressed to her mouth. It took Kankuro a moment to realize that she was trying hard not to laugh. He scowled at her.

"Oh my," she said, "he is just like you Kazekage-sama. Alright, the illustrated catalogue it is. I also have a history book you might like, it is the history of the village and it has a very good chapter on the role of puppeteers in several important battles. Is that acceptable?"

Kankuro started to nod, but then looked at his father for permission. The Kazekage rolled his eyes heavenward.

"How am I supposed to refuse a shinobi his best weapons? Honestly, boy, someday I swear…"

"Please don't Kazekage-sama," Keiko said. "I've heard quite enough for one day."