"You're wrong, you know? You're completely overreacting!" Machi bites as she follows Gaara into his room, slamming the door shut behind her. "None of it warrants your … this! They were childish pranks, nothing more! No one even filed a complaint! Naruto is a trusted member of-"
"I don't care what Naruto is." Gaara seethes, whirling around, his teal eyes narrowing in a way that hints at the darkness beneath them. "You are not a trusted member. Of anywhere!"
At those words, the arm that Machi was gesturing with suddenly falls limp at her side.
She had thought. And this morning. And Naruto.
"No, I guess not. I guess I never was." Her shoulders dropped. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't show weakness before him. That's the worst thing she could do.
"I'm glad you understand," Gaara hisses as sand rips the door off its hinges, "I've arranged another place for you to stay, whether you decide to go or not is entirely up to you. But you will not stay here, where important national matters will be discussed."
Machi opens her mouth. Then closes it. There is nothing more to say.
She lost.
The way home is silent, and not the comfortable kind, either.
Gaara leads the way while Machi trails as far back as physically possible without being separated from the group; the air tenses with every command made and every word exchanged between them. For three days Machi stayed at a separate establishment, refusing visits from anyone who cared to see her and refusing to leave herself. The following three days are even worse, just staring at the Kazekage's retreating back like a shadow she can never reach.
Even Matsuri has the decency to stay silent, and Machi finds herself somehow always within arm length of Temari. At least she still has her, she thinks. At least Temari will always be there, even when it seems like the whole world is against her. A small part of her wonders whether Naruto would be too.
When they make camp for the third night, the tension has begun to dissipate just the slightest bit, and though Machi suspected it was due to the fatigue of the team, she can't say for certain. In fact, she sticks with saying nothing at all. There is no need to reignite the anger in the Kazekage's eyes, and the best way to do so is to completely disappear; maybe Kankuro was right – you can't fight a one-sided battle. So Machi erases herself – her chakra, her scent, her presence – as she tends to the fire she was assigned to build at the mouth of a cave that Temari had chosen for the night.
Once that was done, she moves to allow the others to gather around the fire as Matsuri breaks out the food that Konoha had so kindly gifted them for their journey. The slight cheer was back at the sight of food, and Machi doesn't let herself feel the tinge of disappointment when no one notices that she has quietly slipped away.
She doesn't sulk – no, that would be childish – she just sits in silence, staring out at the night sky and wishes on the stars that the air won't be too cold tonight. She has no intention of going back towards the inner parts of the cave, back to somebody who turns a moment of weakness into treachery of her beloved village.
She isn't sure for how long she spaced out, but from the looks of the darkened sky and the chill that has since set into the air, Machi would say she's been out longer than she had intended. Turns out that wishes on a star are just that – wishes. The wind has picked up as the moon rises, so now, at the mouth of the cave, the unrelenting handiwork of the wind country cuts easily through the thin fabrics on her body, making her curl with a hiss. A part of her suddenly misses Temari, even though, logically, the wind-user is but a few feet away.
Despite all the unnecessary drama that Machi thinks she probably could have avoided, there was a simpler time. After she got back on her feet and out of her previously abusive relationships, she spent nearly two years of her life in solitude, training, taking on missions, paying visits to the local animal shelter, or just spending the lazy day on the edge of Sand's borders where runs a small trickling river. It was there where she met a tattered Temari, just coming back from a mission. Machi immediately smiled timidly after having spotted and been spotted by a fellow comrade, and despite her roughed-up appearance, the blonde smiled back and together, Temari's arm thrown lazily around her neck, Machi supported her all the way home.
"Don't do that." A voice suddenly snapped her out of her reverie. "Temari and Kankuro find it ridiculously annoying."
"What?" Machi shoots back with well-masked alarm after being so rudely interrupted. A pair of black ninja sandals and maroon pants met her eye-line. She didn't bother looking further up.
"You know what. We are not your enemies." Gaara almost hisses and a small smile nearly slips out of Machi because somewhere amidst the complaint lies an acknowledgement of her abilities. She is good enough – the best in the village if you will. She could completely stop existing as far as he's concerned if she truly wanted to, and even the Kazekage himself cannot hope to find her.
And perhaps a small part of the redhead is afraid of that.
Machi drops her jutsu. Gaara doesn't leave.
"What now? I thought you were done being messenger for your siblings?" The brunette retorts, curling back into her previous position, hooking her chin over her arms. The sight only sets Gaara off all over again, for, hunched over with her knees to her chest, Machi looks almost … sacrificial. And someone like her has no right to go around looking so vulnerable. "Go on then, tell Temari and Kankuro that the next time, they can just confront me themselves." Machi bites, and the underlying meaning does not go unheard by the redhead.
But seeing her in the fetal position, Gaara simply couldn't bring himself to snap at her, to tell her that he doesn't take orders from her – especially not with the tone she's using.
Instead, he settles for, "do that again and I will hold you down with sand until sunrise."
With green eyes flashing, he turns his heels and leaves her in peace. Machi isn't the slightest bit fazed by his threats – he wouldn't actually go through with them – but her body does begin to ache after the day's exertion. With a deep sigh, she pushes herself off the cold hard ground and reluctantly joins the rest of her teammates.
The fire has since dimmed quite a bit, and only the slightest hint of her shadows can be seen reflecting on the cavern walls. The Kazekage's eyes have closed, and he sits stiffly against the wall, legs crossed in an Indian fashion, his gourd on his right and Matsuri on his left– he doesn't budge when she enters. Ignoring him, Machi slithers up next to Temari and crawls under her blankets. Suddenly, a part of her feels almost smug – judging by the temperature of Temari's blanket, she had been asleep for a good while, there is no way she sent Gaara after her. At that, the Kazekage shifts, feeling her gaze on him, before Machi curls up against her friend, leaving Temari to wrap her arms around her waist on instinct.
Temari wakes pleasantly the next morning, not with a start like she usually does on missions. Then, almost instinctively, she whips her head in the direction of her brothers – mostly Gaara, but god knows how stupid Kankuro is at times. Judging by his posture alone, Temari knows immediately that the young Kazekage has been awake for a while – if he even slept last night.
"You don't have to do that, y'know, be so cautious around her," The blonde whispers, "she never meant any harm."
As expected, Gaara remains still as ever, but Temari knows he heard, and that's all that matters.
"What's wrong with you?" Kankuro asked heatedly as Gaara picked up the speed even more. Granted, it didn't stop Kankuro from keeping up with him, but the point was well made – or so Gaara thought. Then again, his brother is nothing if not persistent, and the younger's insistent silence was thoroughly ignored. "She's my friend too, and from what I heard, what she did didn't warrant any of this."
"Do you want the namesake of Sunagakure to be tainted before we even spread it? Do you wish for war?" came a calm reply.
He accelerated once more.
Kankuro chased. "We both know you're being overdramatic. Sure, it's not the best image to be spreading about the Sand, but we both know that the Hokage would not have taken it negatively, especially if she was with Naruto."
"I don't care who she was with." Gaara growled, "She broke my trust and had to be dealt with accordingly."
"Accordingly means locking her away for three days?"
"I did no such thing – she chose to lock herself in."
"Perhaps, but you might as well have. We both know what this is about."
"No, you only think you know what this is about." With that, Gaara made a sharp turn, causing Kankuro to lose a few yards on his brother and thus have to work twice as hard to catch up for the next few seconds. Once he did, and with a glance that the girls were still a safe distance away, Kankuro smacked his brother. Squarely and on the head. The split second after, sand exploded from the gourd and sent him flying.
"I've always been on your side because your were able to separate your decisions from your feelings," Kankuro started darkly when he caught up a minute later, a cut on his cheek, "don't disappoint me."
A soft moan snaps Temari out of her trance, and she looks down to the younger girl curled up against her, trying to bury deeper into the sheets to make up for the sudden loss of heat. This prompts Temari enough to lie back down, a thin smile on her chapped lips as she strokes Machi's brunette hair.
Eyelids fluttering, Machi wakes, purring softly at the feeling of gentle tugs. "Mornin' Tem." She mumbles, her kitten-like voice making Temari smile.
"Hey, you hungry? You didn't eat a thing last night." The blonde's voice softens, and Machi's heart nearly breaks from how much she loves this girl.
"Bit yeah."
Gaara's eyes open at that, but he doesn't look up. In fact, he is content with staring holes into the ground as his sister crawls over to her rucksack, digging out some riceballs from last night and handing them over.
"You're too good to me." Machi murmured, munching on it enthusiastically – her stomach was just beginning to ache from the lack of food.
Without so much as a sideways glance at Gaara, Temari replies, "You deserve someone to be good to you."
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"
A loud smack echoes through the room. A twelve year old Machi drops to the ground, a hand cradling the sting on her cheek.
"You have some nerve serving me this," Haru hisses venomously, rough fingers clutching a burnt piece of fish. It was Haru's favorite, and Machi had picked it up on the way home from her mission in the Fire Country where streams run confidently through the trees unlike the meager waters here in the Hidden Sand. Still, the fish must have dried up on the journey, causing the ends to burn faster than an exhausted Machi had predicted.
Nevertheless, Haru did not tolerate imperfection – she was at fault. "Haru I'm really sorry I-"
"Shut up!" He flips the tray before him, toppling the steaming bowl of soup that Machi had painstakingly prepared out of fish heads and bones. The hot broth splashes carelessly onto her skin, searing the tender flesh and the cerulean-eyed kunoichi forces herself to bite down a cry the best she can – Haru doesn't like it when she makes noise.
He sneers down at the pathetic lump on the floor. "Waste of space. Get up and get out of my sight. Just knowing you're here disgusts me."
Nodding quickly, Machi scrambles to her feet. She erases her presence, her chakra, and her smell and bolts for her room. As soon as she is out of sight, Haru won't even know she's there.
"What did I do wrong?" Machi asks, her falsely chipper voice carrying itself through Kankuro's messy workroom. She examines a vial of poison nonchalantly, tossing it in the air and watching the color change just a bit. Her legs kick out from the work surface where she sits, her kunai pouch by her side. From Kankuro's point of view, she seems very much like a child.
Winter has since melted into summer and the unbearable heat in the Wind country has left all the Sand dwellers on edge. Even with a fan running on its highest setting, Machi is sweating through her thin shirt, and Kankuro has long since abandoned all but his pants.
"You're disturbing my creation – the mixture needs to set before it can become fatal." The older man replies, a tinge of annoyance in his voice as he snatches the bottle from the brunette.
"Not the poison, idiot. Gaara."
At the mention of his younger brother, Kankuro looks up. "What?"
"Why does he hate me?"
"Who's the idiot here? Gaara doesn't hate you." The puppet-master snorts, using a tong to rustle around the millions of needles currently soaking in a tub of purple and undoubtedly very poisonous concoction.
"Really? Because I've talked to him all of about five times in the last six months, and all of them have been about missions." Machi grabs a tube full of green, shaking it – it bubbles.
The hairs on Kankuro's neck stand. "How did you only have five missions in the past six months? I've had at least three times that!" He snatches the green tube from her prying fingers as well, huffing.
"That's what you took out of that? Seriously?" Machi grumbles incredulously, this time grabbing a yellow tube –poison– and a blue tube –antidote– and dumping them both into a bigger beaker. Almost instantly, green fumes begin to fill the room.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" Kankuro screeches, sprinting over to plug the beaker with whatever he can – in this case, a scroll – to stop the fumes from spreading further. "Are you trying to kill us both!?"
"It's harmless! The antidote counteracts the poison!" Machi argues, unfazed by her little science experiment.
"Since when do you know poison? Get out! Get out!" Kankuro yelps as he pulls the girl off his worktable, shoving her hastily out the door, not even giving her the chance to grab the kunai pouch that she took off to sit more comfortably. Much to her dismay, as soon as the door opens, the Kazekage himself already has a fist in the air, ready to knock. By then, Kankuro is already in motion, and Machi is very effectively pushed right against the soft fabrics of the Kage robe, face flushing in embarrassment.
Gaara glares.
"K-Kazekage-sama." Machi chokes out as Gaara instinctively reaches out to steady her, a hand on her waist. And in the same motion he pushes her right off him. "I-I'm so sorry, forgive me." Without meeting his eyes at all, she bows deeply, dashing off before he gets a chance to berate her.
"What brings you here Gaara?" Kankuro asks good naturedly as his brother enters, eyes narrowed and arms crossed.
"What was that all about?" Gaara growls, voice low in his throat.
"Hm? Machi?" The puppet-master groans at the disaster his friend created, and his face pales at the thought of making a new batch since the current poison and antidote has been so wastefully neutralized. "Nothing, she just comes around sometimes, messing with my work like they're her toys."
"Then why do you let her continue to come?"
Kankuro raises a brow. Across the room sits his very passively confused younger brother. "Same reason you gave her five missions in the last six months, I'd assume."
"What do you mean?" A little part of Kankuro is milking the torment, for Gaara seems to get more and more frustrated as the conversation goes on. Hey, little victories are better than none.
"Because we like her." He deadpans, going back to grind up some herbs – always start with the antidote.
"Perhaps you do, because I feel nothing for her. Her insolence and lack of abilities simply make her unsuitable for most missions, is all." Gaara recites monotonously, approaching his brother. Kankuro doesn't flinch.
"Gee, one would think you're trying to protect her or something since she's had nothing but good records on her files. Plus her extraordinary ability. But of course you're right, I must be mistaken – we wouldn't want people to think that you might actually favor one of your own kunoichis." The elder of the two drones, a perpetual eye-roll unmistakable.
"That is exactly the case, brother." Seethes the redhead. Kankuro merely nods in fake solemnity.
"So why are you really here?"
"There are traitors amongst us, intel says they've been meeting out on the borders of Wind Country, along the coast of the Fire. They are said to be highly volatile and extremely dangerous and will do anything to get me out of office…the reason for which many of our own don't make it back…"
On the other side of the door, Machi leans, breath cut shot from having heard every word.
Her kunai pouch has long since been forgotten.
"It's dangerous!" Temari yells as Machi shoves another batch of kunai into her pouch. "What are you doing?!"
"I'm a kunoichi am I not? Is it not my job to protect this village, and by extension the Kazekage who oversees it?" Three scrolls, one waterskin, five more shrukens.
"Look, I don't care what you think Gaara's opinions of you are, but if you think he'll approve of this, you're dreaming." The blonde scowls, clenched fists shaking.
Machi smiles – softly, sweetly, sadly; it doesn't reach her eyes. "Then it's a good thing I went directly to the elders to volunteer, isn't it?"
With one last look at her apartment to make sure everything is in its place, Machi slings the back over her shoulder and heads to the window, opening it. Only a hand caught in her jacket stopped her in her tracks.
"Mari, don't."
"Why are you doing this?" Temari's eyes are bluer than Machi's ever seen them, and the layer of gloss over those sea-foam blues make the younger kunoichi's heart clench like no other. She loves her so much that the guilt of leaving her behind is beginning to overwhelm her. It's selfish, she knows, not to mention stupid, to throw it all away for some guy, some- some stupid, stubborn, unreasonable asshole who sees her as nothing but a – well, he doesn't see her at all. The same asshole who also saved her unknowingly, who took the loneliness away just for a little while, who, at the end of the day granted her the sense of security when she goes to bed at night.
But still. Temari, her Temari stands before her, is begging, begging for her to stay, begging for her to be safe. And if she wants to actually go through with it she needs to leave as fast as she can.
"He's worth my loyalty," she murmurs, nails digging into the strap of her bag.
"And me?" A tear slips down Temari's cheek – a streak of mascara comes with.
With a gentle curl of her lips, Machi leans forward to swipe a thumb across the streak, replacing it a second after with her mouth. "You're my best friend."
"Fuck," Temari laughs unsteadily, rubbing her own eyes with the back of her sleeve, "I love you a lot you know?"
"And I love you too."
"You'll come back to me in one piece?"
Machi puts a foot on the opened window. With one last backwards glance at her friend, she winks cheekily, "even if I have to crawl."
And then she's gone.
"Gaara, I really think we should send out a few teams to scout out the areas, especially if they're along the borders – if anything, we need to send out a word to the Hokage as well, so that she at least know that these are rogue ninjas." Kankuro regards his brother seriously – the thought of anyone constantly trying to hurt his baby brother is beyond infuriating.
Gaara glares towards the council members before him, staring down every shuffling shinobi. Every other one seem to have held their breath before the redhead and only exhale when he takes his attention off them long enough to speak,
"See to it that the Hokage gets the message. Dismissed."
Immediately, the council scatters. Baki comes up behind his former student.
"Why aren't we sending out teams to investigate? If it's indeed another assassination attempt, we need to shut these traitors down." He insists gruffly but Gaara pays him no heed.
"There is no need to risk the lives of my shinobi when the grudge is against me. Let them come." The redhead states with cold civility, his voice scratches and rolls off his tongue. He re-scrolls the map of the Fire-Wind borders.
"How can you be so sure they'll come?" Baki inquires, looking between the brothers evenly.
"When someone wants to kill me, they always do."
By the time Gaara finishes his duties, every last mission has been assigned a team, and to his relief, every document has been stamped or sealed. This happens so frighteningly rare that he almost dreads the freedom, dreads the thought that something might come up to ruin it, but surprisingly, no one has stopped him on his way out of the tower.
And then it happens.
Of course it does.
It's his sister, his strong, brave older sister who comes running his way, fingers trembling, cheeks damp. And with a sob in her throat, she chokes out,
"She's gone."
Gaara couldn't describe the sudden clench in his chest.