CHAPTER ONE - UNFLINCHING
TEMARI
The biting night air whizzed past her through the window of her bedroom like an arrow, but she didn't flinch. Temari would never, she had promised herself, for as long as she'd had a memory.
It was a wind coming from the Demon Desert, she knew, coming from the same direction as the hospital.
North.
She wasn't wearing her veil; there was no point in wasting time. Instead, ever since the failed poisoning of His Majesty, her father, she'd known it was a waiting game.
So every night, and every day since then, since she and her younger brothers, Kankurō and Gaara, had been informally confined to their rooms pending "investigation", Temari had plotted, connived, waited, and waited, her gaze pinned to the North, unflinching, without her veil and with a bag under her bed.
In the distance, above the stucco-covered flat roofs of the buildings of their city, well above the cars lifting road dust, she saw it.
A red flare. Shot from the top of the building.
Down by the gates, the guards were staring in awe at the sky, and the humiliating burn of shame ran through her heart. Shame that the guards of the Gold Palace would dare to be so incompetent.
No matter. It wouldn't be long before they heard; before they knew her father was dead. Dead just three hours after midnight. Then, they would pick up heavier guns and assemble into formations.
Temari dashed off her window seat to the door of her suite, knocking two times. Wait. Another knock. Then jumped away from the door, waiting for the reply.
It came in a series of knocks. It said 'unaccompanied; safe.'
Temari opened the door and shot away anyway, her mother's switchblade in hand, just in case.
They wore white robes, her handmaidens, but no veil. One taller with tan hair and brown eyes, one shorter, with chestnut hair and gold-brown eyes. They curtsied, but they dared not look at their princess directly.
She pocketed her mother's switchblade and pointed at her wardrobe. Yome understood Temari's gesture immediately and headed there.
Outside, the bangs of car doors being shut rang in the night. Their ignitions roared as they presumably rolled out. Surely her father's guard had already contacted the palace.
"And Matsuri?" Temari asked Sen.
"Alerting his Royal Highness the First Prince. As you requested, ma'am," Sen replied as she took off her handmaiden robes and gave them to Temari, who began to slide them on top of her commoner's outfit.
Yome had gotten the outfit she had prepared, Temari's own dress and veil neatly folded, jewel chains, and most recognizable tiara, and extended them in her hands. "Here, Sen."
They continued their work with only the shuffling noises of fabric filling the emptiness of the night.
"And Shira?" asked Temari, now fully robed.
Sen leaned down so Yome could wrap the long chains with hanging jewelry around her shoulders.
"With his Royal Highness the Second Prince, ma'am, as you ordered," Yome replied, reaching for her princess' tiara.
"No." Temari herself reached for it. "Let me," she turned to Sen with the tiara in hand.
Before it could touch Sen's tan hair, Sen and Yome threw themselves to the floor.
"Sen. Yome." she reprimanded.
"Please find another way, ma'am." Sen was adamant.
"Sen couldn't possibly, ma'am," Yome's voice wavered.
Temari put the tiara on Sen's head anyway. "Rise. Now." Her voice was thick and sticky, and it was not leaving her neck properly.
They did, but their heads were still bowed.
"Why are you getting involved in all of this? You know very well you could die."
"We have sworn to lay down our lives if you order it so, ma'am," Yome said instantly, but Sen was quiet.
After a moment, she said, "the winds and the sand of this desert itself is your highness' blood. I am certain you would spill it for the sake of our people, ma'am. How can I not follow?"
Temari sighed. Her eyes were darkened by the shadows, the moonlight hitting her back.
They were right, of course. she would if she had to.
But she didn't have to. With her father's death, only Sen, Yome, Matsuri, her brothers, Baki, and soon Shira remained that knew or would know her appearance, and soon, even that loose end would be tied up.
"Then you know. Let's not waste time on things made of metal when lives are at stake." She retrieved her bag from under the bed. "Come. From now on, Sen, you are me. Guide the way."
Sen bowed again, the jewels tinkling before she straightened herself completely.
She took one look at her princess, her long, sandy blonde hair Sen herself had recently cut into shoulder length was different, the clothes and shoes were different, and her makeup was different, but nothing could disguise the strength that oozed out of her. She had been honest, earlier. Their princess was the desert wind itself. "Yes, ma'am."
Both Sen and Yome curtsied again. Together, they wished her that the moon's silver would guard her and light her path in Rōranian speech.
Temari bowed her head next to Yome, and Sen took a position at the front of the three of them and they left the princess' quarters.
The sole guard posted outside took one look at the trio, gave them a little bow of the head, then looked away, uninterested.
Sen guided them to Gaara's quarters. On the way, they passed more guards, until they met with Shira.
Shira's blue-ish gray hair seemed white in the moonlight. His head gave away the slightest swivel of a double take at seeing Princess Temari's face for the first time, but he managed to say nothing.
He addressed Sen directly. "This way, ma'am."
They followed him into Gaara's bedroom.
Gaara's pitiful veil lay on the floor, and Gaara himself sat on the windowsill. His violently red hair had diluted into brown in the darkness of the room. He turned to look at the group, his light turquoise eyes piercing them.
Shira closed the doors behind them, and Temari stepped from behind Sen.
"Gaara."
Gaara didn't move. "Temari."
Sen and Yome weren't sure if it had been the cold desert night or the Second Prince which had curled their skin into goosebumps.
"It's time. We need to head out, alright? Are you ready?" Her voice was sweet but shaky.
"So he's dead then." Gaara stood from his seat, putting his bag on his back. "This is useless. Running away. Anyone who stands against me, I will tear them apart."
The rest of the group shifted on their feet nervously.
Their agreed-upon series of knocks came from Gaara's bedroom door.
Temari glanced at Shira.
He bowed his head once before returning the knocks.
The door hinge squeaked as Matsuri, a short girl with camel brown hair, walked in. Behind her was Kankurō.
Temari waited until the door was shut behind him. She pointed her open switchblade at him "Where is Gaara's stand-in?"
"About that…" chuckled Kankurō, scratching his head, and messing up his dark brown hair.
"About what?" She put her hands on her hips. "You know my plan is for them not to get suspicious before we have time to get away."
Kankurō raised his hands in defense, "I tried, okay? I couldn't think of anyone trustworthy," he hummed, looking at their group, "can't Shira do it?"
Gaara's glare could have burnt a hole through him. "That's a stupid suggestion, Kankurō."
"Well, I don't see you coming up with anything! You just left everything up to us like you always fucking do."
Temari sighed. "Alright. We're wasting time here. Okay! Nope. Gaara, can I have that?"
"No." Gaara held his favorite bone dagger away from her.
"You were going to stab me? I'm your brother!"
"So?" Gaara's monotone response made them shiver. "Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"
Seemingly forgotten, Yome whispered to Shira. "Should we intervene?"
Shira frowned and shook his head, his arms crossed. "Unless you want to lose a limb or something."
Temari tried to reach the dagger, but Gaara had gotten taller this past year and he knew it.
Not taller than her, but she didn't want to risk agitating him by getting in his space.
"Gaara, we're wasting time. Please?" She held her hand out.
Kankurō scowled at them. "This is why I hate dealing with you, brats."
She whirled around; her arm like a slingshot, and her fist like a stone to his shoulder. "Apologize. Now!"
Gaara and Kankurō continued to scowl at each other until the stained bone dagger caught his eye, still in Gaara's apathetic hold.
"I'm… I'm sorry." He looked away, his arms crossed.
Temari held out her hand at Gaara again. "Please? For me?"
And she waited. And waited, her heart pounding in her throat. They were wasting time.
Gaara slapped her hand away but relented, putting his bone dagger in his coat's pocket.
Relief flooded her like stepping into a cold bath during the day.
"In the interest of being candid," Gaara spoke, shouldering his bag again, "I don't care if this 'operation' succeeds. Whether you live or you die; it has no effect on me. I only want to get out of this hellhole." He made to leave the room.
"Gaara," called Temari, "your stand-in."
He may have put away his real dagger, but Gaara had no issues with shooting metaphorical ones with his eyes.
Kankurō sighed. "You may not need one. I'll stay behind."
The entire group was now staring at him.
Temari growled a 'no' while Gaara muttered an 'okay'.
"No," she said again, "You're coming with us." She said it like it was a fact. Scorpions sting. You're coming with us. The sun burns. You're coming with us.
Gaara fixed his ever-present glare on him, the coldness of his blue seeping through his veins.
He ignored it and turned to Temari. "You know you're compromising the integrity of the entire thing because you want us to stick together."
Temari was glaring at him. Her green-blue eyes were different from Gaara's. Hers burnt. His froze.
Kankurō felt like lukewarm soup. "It's me they need. If I stay they won't look too hard for you."
He knew she knew he was right. He could see it in her eyes; in the crumpled grimace. The urge to laugh at her angry face flared up, just like it always did for as long as he'd had a memory.
She stomped towards him, and he braced himself for the upcoming punch. The fear he'd had of her from when she was taller still imprinted.'The tallest!' she would proudly say with a toothy grin and punch him in the arm.
Instead, she circled his torso with her arms. He turned to look at Gaara, at anyone, but before he could fully react, she had let go and punched him in the shoulder.
"Gaara," she was handing Gaara his veil.
He snatched it from Temari's hand, the rest of them cringing at the sudden action, and pulled it over his head in sloppy tugs.
Time ticking away. "Sen," Temari murmured.
Sen got to the front of the group, again pretending to be the princess.
Temari took one last look at her brother.
"Station 76.3, address Crow," he reminded her, as Shira pulled the doors open for them.
Their group walked briskly, Kankurō still with them until they reached the main archway. The four members of the national guard awaiting them there didn't try to stop them, but Kankurō stayed behind to let them know that his siblings would be visiting their father in the hospital, alerted by flare and the movement of the guards of the Gold Palace.
Temari wanted to look back, but so long as she kept her head down behind 'the princess', no one would look at her twice.
Baki already waited for them, standing beside a black van. His ghutrah, just like their group's hair and clothes, wasn't exempt from whipping around his face in the wind.
Gaara climbed into the van first, followed by 'the princess' and her handmaidens. Shira closed the door, and got in the front passenger's seat; Baki was already in the driver's by the time his door slammed shut.
The van's ignition stuttered, then started, the headlights flickering with the interruption of power, and the van turned away from the Gold Palace.
They headed towards the North, the dust picking up around them, as if they really were headed towards the hospital, but took a right turn at a roundabout. Baki continued down a street perpendicular to the main road and halted the car after another right turn into the commercial district.
"Just a moment," Baki instructed as he got out of the car and approached another parked sedan with tinted windows just ahead of them.
Shira raised himself in his seat, ready to jump on the driver's side should anything happen to Baki.
Temari gripped her bag, an anxious scowl on her face since the van had exited the palace's gates. Gaara had already lost patience with his veil and it lay by their feet.
Sen and Yome held hands.
They all just… waited.
But Baki came back alive, opening the door of the van. "Your highness," he said, extending his hand to Temari to help her out.
She took his hand. Just before jumping off, she turned back to the people that had been next to her for the past seven years. "Stay safe," she said. Half an order, half a prayer.
Gaara had climbed out behind her, his bone dagger in its holster, but out of his pocket, his backpack hanging sadly from his shoulders.
Baki himself opened the backseat door of the parked sedan, giving them space to scoot in.
A black-haired man sat behind the steering wheel, his grip on it loose as he twisted to look at them. The man turned to Baki, who had shut the backseat door behind them and opened the passengers', and Temari saw the rugged outline of two badly-healed facial scars.
Baki's deep voice filled the car. "We have an agreement, then," he said, more as a fact than a question, and handed two envelopes to the black-haired man, "His Highness the First Prince stays behind."
"I prepared for three."
"His Highness' own choice," Baki replied, "Lady Temari, Lord Gaara," Baki's ghutrah was all they could see from them. "This man works directly with the Hokage of Konohagakure no Sato. I trust him to be consistent. He will make sure you arrive well and are safe there," He addressed Temari directly, knowing Gaara would ignore him, "we will be in touch. 76.3. Address to Crow."
She nodded, then realized he may not be able to see her. "Goodbye, Baki."
Baki held onto the open door for a little longer, but eventually, he too, let go; his ghutrah disappearing from sight, and the passenger door slammed shut.
The black-haired man started the car, the headlights again flooding the dark street. He bowed his head in a quick nod, his hair, which had been tied back, brushing against the felt roof of the car.
"Please forgive me for the disrespect, your highnesses. I should not be seen here."
Gaara ignored him.
"We have other priorities," she reassured him in the most succinct way she could.
The man drove. He drove them out of the commercial district, under the radial aqueducts parting from the palace, by the arts district, and by the Royal Academy, and out of The Wall, and into the parking lot of the train station.
He turned to them and extended the envelopes and two train tickets to the princess. "Your highness, we will enter and board the train separately. I will find your compartment. Should I not join you before the desert turns to forest, lock your doors, leave this train at the Hachō-mura stop, travel to the New City of Rōran, and request room number ten at The Turquoise Jewel. My emergency contact will take you the rest of the way to a secondary safe location." The envelopes swayed in his hand. "You will find everything you need in these envelopes, but I suggest you do not open them until you're certain I am not coming."
Temari bristled at the new information. This hadn't been in the plan. She took the documents out of the man's hand. "Thank you. Let's go, Gaara." She climbed out of the car, Gaara following after her.
The train station did not have much traffic; few people tended to travel in the early hours of the morning. They skipped the lonely ticket counter and found their boarding platform.
Across the rails, on their right, the shouting of the train line workers announced the departure of the train to the New City of Rōran. Temari glanced back to make sure Gaara was behind her. She could not see the black-haired man anywhere.
Well, that was to be expected, she thought to herself
Ah.
That must be it. It was one of the newer models, painted green and blue, the dotted light sign at the front indicating its trajectory. New Rōran - Suna - Konoha. Temari scowled at the shortened name.
"Dear customer?" a lady wearing a Kaze Railways uniform addressed her, "are you boarding the train to Konohagakure no Sato?"
Temari showed her the tickets, the envelopes safely away in her bag.
The attendant checked her clipboard for the ticket numbers. "Yano-san? Two adults?"
"Yes."
"Please follow me, Yano-san," said the attendant, climbing the metal stairs into the train.
Temari readjusted her bag. She was barely turning to urge Gaara along but he had just passed her, following after the attendant.
The train was a sleeper train, with compartments all along the vehicle. They hadn't seen a dining car, but they would be in Konohagakure no Sato before lunchtime anyway, so it wouldn't be something they would need.
The corridors were lit, and several compartments' occupants had drawn their curtains closed.
The attendant walked them into their compartment, showed them where everything was, how to flush the toilet, and how to use the light and outlet, advised them the train would depart in 8 minutes, and left them to their own devices with a chirp 'thank you for traveling with Kaze Railways!'.
Temari drew their curtains shut as well, and locked their doors.
"Alright," she rushed to her bag, sliding the envelopes out and ripping them at the top. Temari emptied them on her bed.
Identification cards, two of them, with the photos she'd had Baki take only a week ago.
"Yano Araki," she read to Gaara. "Seventeen years old, born in the New City of Rōran," she grabbed another document from Gaara's envelope, "educated in the Royal Academy, transferring for his last year of compulsory education to Konoha Gakuen. Excellent grades-wonderful detail."
Gaara continued to ignore her, looking out at the darkness outside.
"Oh!" she grabbed the strange object. 'Oh!' Now she knew what it was. A cellular communication device. A cell for short.
It was a recent invention. She didn't know the science but she knew it was the same technology that allowed the cars of the national guard to communicate with each other without a landline. Not many people knew of it in their kingdom.
"Do you know what this is?" she asked Gaara and he finally deigned to look at her, his annoyance at her spelled across his forehead.
Shouting outside. She couldn't make out the words, but Gaara seemed as alarmed as she, his pensive eyes fixated on the door.
They waited another minute, but then the train lurched into movement. Slow at first, but soon it started to pick up speed, the train station moving, then out of their sight.
The metallic jiggle of their compartment's door handle.
She slid off her bed, and extending her reach to avoid being directly against the door, she knocked in a pattern. 'Safe.'
Silence.
Knocks in response. 'Unaccompanied, safe.'
With her mother's switchblade in her hand, she turned to Gaara. His bone dagger glinted in the light. She reached again to unlock the door.
The door slid into its pocket, the black-haired man had both hands raised as a sign of truce.
Temari folded the switchblade and put it in her pocket. She glanced at Gaara, but he was already putting his own knife away.
He signed, sliding the door shut behind him and in the light of the compartment, they could see he had a goatee, and the scars Temari had taken notice of earlier, running at the same angle from one side of his face to the center, one above his eyebrow, and one on his cheek.
The black-haired man saw the cell Temari was holding, then the contents of the envelopes spilled over Temari's bed, and didn't seem impressed.
He grabbed the chair from the small desk behind Gaara's desk and swiveled it so he could sit in it and face them.
"My name is Nara Shikaku. As you know, Baki contacted us on your behalf to negotiate your protection," he nodded at Temari, "what you see in those envelopes is the best way we could think of doing this," he extended his hand, not wanting to invade Temari's space.
Temari handed him everything she had extracted, as well as the envelopes.
"This," he gave Temari and Gaara each a card, "is your temporary identity. Yano Kurumi and Yano Araki. Araki-kun, you are lucky to have gotten a scholarship to attend Konohagakure no Sato's Senju University, but as the condition is to graduate from Konoha Gakuen, you will transfer for your last year to meet entrance conditions. Kurumi-san, you are his elder sibling and legal tutor while your parents stayed behind in Rōran," he glanced at her, "the closer we are to the truth, the better. Kurumi-san, you will say you were training to replace one of Her Highness', the First Princess, Temari's handmaiden, but quit to help your brother."
Temari turned the card around. The identification card was legitimate, only the information inside it wasn't. She stared at her photo on the card. It was the only existing photo of herself in the world, and it had another's name next to it.
Nara Shikaku continued, "You will both have a cellular device, as you can see. This is a product that is just beginning to become widespread among the wealthier families of Konoha. We did not want to be so conspicuous, but we had little choice. You will need this for emergencies. Your contact's number is already registered, and he will be in touch soon after you settle to guide you further."
Gaara glanced up from his card, "you're not our contact."
He had the talent for making everything sound like a statement.
"I'm too well-known," Shikaku explained, "it would not be safe. It's already suspicious enough you will be settling into an apartment building I own. We want to diversify your ties in Konoha. It's within my lands, so it should be safe enough, but should anyone get suspicious of you, we don't want them to see my name in your documentation more than once."
Temari nodded. "What is our background?"
"Sorry?"
"Our background. We will have to speak to someone at some point, possibly get a job, make acquaintances, as if we're really settling here, no?"
Shikaku's nonchalant expression shifted. "Yes. You are from a wealthy family. With enough influence to have you proposed as a handmaiden of the princess, but not wealthy enough to draw too much notice," Shikaku handed each of them a cell. "Your contact will arrange all the other details and provide Kurumi-san with a job and a cash stipend. I beg you are not offended, it is only for appearance's sake. This way you will be able to stay close to your contact." He handed each a set of keys, "your apartment has been furnished over the past week, and we have provided some essentials. We were aware you would be traveling light. It is only a two-bedroom apartment, unfortunately. This is realistic for someone in your situation. I beg your forgiveness, but now that His Highness the First Prince has stayed behind, you will have more space."
Gaara scowled and turned his face to the window.
Temari blanched at the thought of Gaara and Kankurō having to share a room. "Yes, well. That will do."
Shikaku looked at her strangely.
'This man is not just any other man,' she thought. She could almost see his thoughts interacting with each other behind his black eyes.
He relented, stuffing some of the documents back into a single envelope. "These are the school registration forms, and a document certifying Kurumi-san's temporary legal custody over Araki-kun, as well as some money should you need anything in the next few days."
"Are you nearly finished," Gaara interrupted, "your constant chatter; it's a nuisance."
Temari tried to ignore that humiliating burn from crawling up her cheeks, but it was a lost cause.
Shikaku sighed. "Just three things," he raised his index finger, "Kurumi-san will need to take this documentation directly to Konoha Gakuen. Again, for appearance's sake."
Temari nodded.
"Secondly: my son, Shikamaru. He has a friend in your complex. I hope you won't feel obligated to speak to him; especially since we're not supposed to know each other in any way."
She blinked, "why would we care? We won't even know what he looks like."
"Unfortunately, as soon as you see him you'll know. And third," this, he said looking at Temari, "Your Highness, you did say you could drive, correct?"
"I know the basics."
"She hotwired a National Guard's car and crashed it into the main gate three months ago," added Gaara helpfully, "if you can consider that 'driving'."
"A small incident. There was a scorpion in the passenger's seat."
Gaara's face turned towards the window again. "They had to replace that car. And the gate. All the noise was annoying."
Shikaku's sigh was even more defeated than any he'd let out previously. He gave Temari a separate set of keys. "Please do your best not to crash this one, Kurumi-san," he begged, then went on to explain what they would have to do.
They'd pick up a car in the parking lot and drive it to a separate location, where a different car would be waiting. Temari would use that car to drive to the apartment complex, and that car would be picked up during the night and driven all the way up to Kumogakure no Sato.
All this, just to make sure anyone that could possibly be on their trail would lose track.
But Shikaku was optimistic; their faces' anonymity and the decoy they would be planting in Iwagakure no Sato, ('my handmaiden, Sen,' Temari had clarified), would be enough to keep them safe.
In fact, most of these measures were excessive, as Shikaku reassured her.
'Excessive, indeed.' Temari studied him. She still didn't understand why Konohagakure no Sato would even want to get involved, but they had few allies and the worst factor of them all; urgency.
Shikaku reminded them that he would have to pretend to not know them as soon as he left their compartment, gave them a courteous nod, and wished them a good trip.
She locked the door after he left. Gaara sat on his bed now, his face against the wall.
But she knew he wasn't sleeping.
Temari sat on her bed, herself. She watched Gaara for a while, trying to tempt herself into sleep, but she knew sleep wouldn't be coming.
Even if she had managed to pry Gaara's bone dagger from his person, she still had many things she couldn't stop thinking about.
Sen and Yome's prayer to the moon had done nothing for her.
She wondered where they were. If Baki had managed to get them to a safe house, as planned. She wondered if Shira was still with them. He must. As soon as they learned Gaara and Temari were no longer in their Sovereign Kingdom, they would scrutinize those last hours Temari had attempted to spend so wisely. Until Sen's appearance as her in Iwagakure, their home would become like the inside of a desert fire ant's mound cracked open.
She wondered if Kankurō was okay and back in his quarters, pretending to be shocked at the news their father had passed.
Pretending to not know King Rasa's children knew he would soon be dead.
Pretending to be outraged and pretending to accuse Temari and Gaara of being behind it.
Pretending to exude the sweet, tempting smell the real culprits, whoever they were, would follow; the temptation to manipulate Kankurō now becoming the bait.
She looked out the window.
Dawn was crowning, now, over the dunes. It flew through the sky like birds of prey that had found death in muted purples and yellows as the train left their home behind.
Temari watched it all pass, unflinching.
This chapter was actually supposed to be a lot longer! But I decided to properly conclude at that line and continue with Shikamaru's POV next chapter!
I hadn't written a single Naruto fic since 2017ish so I'm trying my best to stay true to character!
Huge thanks to Becks, Bex, Barb, Edai, Archie, Cinder, and everyone else in the Sand Siblings Enthusiasts Club, just because you've given me back a sense of community and enjoyment that I'd been missing for a long time, and you've put up with my rambling and my sharing my rough drafts. And special thanks to Edai for inviting me!
Thank you as well to my fiancé, and also to my friend, Harel! They both don't know crap about Naruto but still chose to suspend their disbelief for a few pages.