CHAPTER SEVEN - PRYING

KANKURŌ

"'Happy birthday' were the exact words," Kankurō said in a low voice, "how cheesy is that?"

Temari had left him a message through the radio. She must have missed him, to do that much.

"Was that all?"

"There's not much else that can be said, is there?" He eyed the guard unit a few meters behind them, choosing his words carefully.

Baki nodded, but still seemed dissatisfied.

He smiled, "what, don't tell me you're worried?"

Baki didn't answer but continued to walk alongside him.

Feeling that thrill he always felt when he performed a fun scene, Kankurō smiled, his voice loud and jovial. "Come here, Lord Baki!" He guided Baki forwards, "I have a few changes in the water system I want you to oversee when I become king!"

Once they made it, Kankurō turned to him.

The afternoon sun was beating down on them. At this time of day, there was no one else in the Royal Garden but them.

Next to Baki and Kankurō, the aqueduct, which supplied water to the garden, the medicinal greenhouse, and their small fruit orchard by irrigation, roared, rushing down the man-made waterfall—a sure annoyance to Kankurō's guards.

Without looking at them, he said "add Lord Yūra to the list of suspects to investigate."

Baki, aside from the slight twitch of his brow, gave no expression. "Lord Yūra?"

"His guards were spying on my conversation with Lord Ebizō and Lady Chiyo."

"Ah."

Kankurō raised his hand as if he was pointing at something or another. "Do you have any updates?"

"Sen volunteered to make an appearance somewhere."

Kankurō crossed his arms, thinking. Sen showing up somewhere else and pretending to be Temari would always be a welcome distraction, but it also came with risks to Sen's life if only one thing didn't work according to plan and they couldn't get her away safely.

If something happened to any of their people, Temari would never forgive it, though she wouldn't blame him.

It was Kankurō who would find it impossible to forgive himself.

If Sen was going to be put at risk, it had better be worth it.

"Tell her not yet."

Baki nodded again.

"Gaara's stand-in?"

"Paid off and far away."

"Good." Paid off and far away. This was how things were accomplished, Kankurō knew, but it didn't mean he had to like it.

Baki continued. "Lastly, there are no suspicious transactions in Lord Tōjūrō's bank account at the treasury. Only a large transaction around two months ago, on the week of the Lūna festival, from his personal account to his wife's."

"How large?"

"Half a million sol."

"Half a million?"

"Yes."

"Around the Lūna festival?"

"Two days before Lūnar, actually."

"To his wife?"

"Yes."

"Pfft."

He knew Baki was staring strangely at him as his laughter got more and more out of control but he couldn't help it.

How stupid did Lord Tōjūrō think they were?

The Lūna festival was a yearly celebration that lasted two weeks in honor of the goddess Lūna, a motherly figure that would guide you in the right direction, but would not prevent you from getting lost in the first place. A beam of light in the darkness. As such, it was normal for the household administrator and 'nurturer' in a family to receive a large sum of sol or a special gift, and they were expected to reinvest that in the household.

Large sums were more common among the wealthy, but half a million?

He had never heard of such a sum being given for Lūnar.

Kankurō sighed happily, "that's all fine. What is his wife's name again?"

"Lady Anzu."

"No, before she married."

"Lady Anzu Konsaki or something of the sort. Do you suspect her?" Baki looked at him with uncertainty.

"Maybe. Find out everything about her, Baki. Investigate her transactions with your contact at the treasury. Go back a year on both of their transaction logs. If you find something, it might become a piece of evidence. Don't let Lords Ryūsa or Sajō find out about our poking around."

They likely weren't involved, but they were big-mouthed sycophants.

"I will reach out to my contact."

"Also, put a tail on her, Baki."

Baki turned to him, "you want to go that far, Your Highness?"

"I know it's a weak theory," he smirked, "but I have a good feeling."

Sighing, Baki nodded. "It will be as you say."

"It has to be someone discreet. Once you have established the routine of the household, we will need to bug them, so it also has to be someone observant."

"Noted. What about Amagi?"

"No. Someone from Sasori. Baki, Amagi is barely fourteen, and you know I only employ them to get them out of that hellhole."

"They're a quick child, and you assured me enough that you can trust them."

"No," Kankurō said firmly. "It's already bad enough that they carry my messages to the radio station. The less they know, the better."

Baki didn't reply but stared at the water crash into the well.

"Think of what you told me, about Gaara's Trials," he said, now looking at the water, too. "I will not have another person's childhood corrupted for my safety. Not again."

"Your Highness…"

When Kankurō shook his head, Baki tried again:

"Lord Kankurō."

Lord Kankurō. He smiled fondly, remembering he and Temari stomping petulantly in front of Baki, but hidden by a screen, decrying all the rules they'd have to follow as princes and princesses, including not being able to step outside before they were veiled. Gaara held Temari's hand, his blanket and his stuffed bear in the other, and had absolutely no idea what was going on, except that his big brother and sister were upset, so he would be upset as well.

They had demanded to be called Lords and Lady, and so, after three years of the trio correcting them, Baki had stuck to calling them that when in private. Yashamaru had thought it was funny at the time.

"There are many things I still need to ask you, Baki," he admitted, "but it seems like we've run out of time."

He turned, having seen from the corner of his eye there was a maiden standing between his guards. She bowed low. Probably there to let him know Lord Tōjūrō had arrived for their meeting.

Kankurō waved them forward. "I'll have to trouble you again, Lord Baki," he said, faking a laugh.

"Not at all, Your Highness."

Coming into his study to find someone already waiting for him was still a novelty, Kankurō examining Lord Tōjūrō standing and greeting him.

Too quickly for his liking, they were seated opposite each other, exchanging pleasantries. Kankurō was quickly running out of patience.

"You requested to meet me, Lord Tōjūrō," this time, his performance was inspired by his father again, a frown as his mask.

Lord Tōjūrō bowed his head, "I did, Your Highness. I only sought to assure you of my loyalty, and offer my support."

"Your loyalty?" Kankurō a container of paper clips from one side of his desk to the other, the effect of him being clueless achieved easily. "I am your Prince. Shouldn't I have that already?"

Lord Tōjūrō, short of height but of strong presence, hurried to correct himself.

"Certainly. I never meant to imply otherwise, but these are uncertain times. I shudder to think what dark schemes whoever the culprit, or rather, culprits, might be up to."

Culprits…

At Kankurō's simple, thoughtful nod, Lord Tōjūrō continued, his hands impatiently clasped together in his lap.

"Your Highness, I have watched you grow up; I was present in the theatre with the rest of our council when you were born. Despite our Second Prince's… unfortunate… condition," he attempted a gentle smile that looked more like a grimace, "I have seen you flourish. That is to say, I have all my trust in you, Your Highness. You were destined, as the firstborn, to be King-"

Kankurō slammed his hand on the desk, interrupting coldly. "I am not the firstborn. Your Princess is our honorable parents' first child."

Bowing his head again, Lord Tōjūrō apologized, "I meant no offense. I only meant the firstborn son."

Feeling a foreign delight in seeing Lord Tōjūrō squirm, he didn't allow him to raise his head. At the same time, he pretended to look over some documents until pity made him condescend with a dismissive gesture, the turquoise and gold beads in his bracelets crashing against the wood of the desk.

Lord Tōjūrō fixed his calculating gaze on him as he pretended to continue working. Sensing that it was safe to speak again, he tried a different approach.

"Because I worry for Your Highness, I took it upon myself to find someone for you; an assistant, if you will."

Kankurō stamped the request he had reviewed that same morning. "You're worried? Lord Tōjūrō, you are kind, but there is no need."

"Your Highness, I'm aware of everything you must shoulder, why, if your own brother and sister had not fled-"

"There is no need for your concern," he repeated, glaring at him.

Lord Tōjūrō's cheek trembled in smothered rage.

A helper… Kankurō gave the idea some thought.

Was it an innocent, trapped in a game? Or a traitor; poisonous greed, not blood, running through their veins?

"However," Kankurō continued, to Lord Tōjūrō's visible surprise, "I appreciate your good intentions, Lord Tōjūrō. Bring your person with you next week. I will receive them in the Royal Garden."

He bowed his head, "as expected, His Highness is wise beyond his years."

"Now, leave me."

"Certainly, Your Highness. If I could only ask, about your coronation ceremony,-"

Kankurō sighed.

TEMARI

Temari was chronically, not just occasionally, bored.

Her daily routine options were to work, read, pretend to work, read some more, play shogi, listen to the radio, or sit taciturnly with Gaara in front of her and hope she didn't manage to set him off.

She couldn't even practice with her switchblade because apparently, according to Asuma-san, that wasn't a "normal person thing to do," whatever that meant.

She had already complained twice, but the only other alternative had been her staying at the apartment the entire day, which she was sure was some type of human rights violation.

At least working at Mirai Bookshop gave her something to do, and got her out into the streets of Konoha.

Despite the boredom, she had to admit she had never been so free before in her life, and that, she did like, thank you very much.

Regardless, she was still incredibly fucking bored.

She rubbed her eyes, groaning into the palm of her hand.

3:35 PM, the clock said. How was the weather still so cool when it was the early afternoon?

Of course, she knew why, she wasn't stupid, she was just outraged.

Temari had tried everything. She'd read all she felt she could for the day, watched TV shows with jokes that never translated well for her, and played against Asuma-san three times and beat him.

As restless as she was, she would tolerate Nara Shikamaru.

No, even Naruto, the airheaded blonde that lived next door.

Just half an hour ago, Asuma-san picked up a call at his office and ran out the door without a word besides 'so sorry' and 'I'll be back', and after sending a text to Gaara that went unanswered, then calling the school, a harried-sounding lady telling Temari her little brother was fine and alive and hadn't gotten in trouble yet, she had settled for flicking a pencil from one end of the desk for another.

She would never admit it because it just wasn't how it was done in their family, but she missed Kankurō.

Her last message to him had been to wish him happy birthday a week ago, which of course he couldn't respond to (frankly she had been reckless, but she couldn't help herself), but there had been no further news from him.

He was clearly alive, judging by the lack of contact from Baki, and nothing alarming on the news, but still.

Her little brother who was taller than her, now.

Just last year, until the first attempt on their father's life had failed, they would still sneak down to the kitchens and steal the cooking sherry and sit and drink hidden in the bushes of the gardens, sharing dry comments and the bottle back and forth; their only way of comforting each other.

If Temari didn't have any friends, Kankurō was the closest thing to it.

She stood from her stool, stretching her arms until her bones cracked.

Maybe if she closed the store for a bit?

After double-checking there were no straggling customers in the loft she walked towards the front doors, the keys jingling where they hung from the waistband of her skirt.

And then, just as she grabbed the handle, Shikamaru was there.

Through the glass, he looked just as surprised as she was, his hand on the handle and his eyes wide.

Temari stepped back to let him in, composing herself, the surprise making her heart flutter.

"Asuma-san is not here," she promptly informed him as she began her walk back to the counter.

Shikamaru looked at her tepidly, his hands deep in his pockets. His uniform's jacket was tied around his waist, and the uniform's shirt was left open to show the pale green t-shirt underneath. His brown leather book bag hung flimsily from his shoulder.

"No way," he scoffed, after finishing his examination of her, "were you going to close up shop?"

"No." She glared at him.

How did he know?

Putting on that smug smile she hated so much because it was twisted to the side and it made his dark eyes look so much darker, he pointed at her hand.

Where she was still holding the keys.

The stupid keys betrayed her. She shoved them in her pocket.

Her face warm; she tried not to betray herself.

"I like to keep the keys close to me," she said, her voice a steel sword with a mocking edge. "So what? Is that a crime, Detective Nara? Are you going to cuff me now and take me away?"

The elation she felt at his face turning a violent, embarrassment-toned red was immeasurable. Smiling, she plopped down on the offending stool behind the counter.

"Besides, how can I close when there are actual customers for once?"

"Those? They aren't customers."

Through the door, there were a few people coming. Looking again, some she knew, some she didn't.

The blonde girl seemed familiar, as well as the black-haired girl and the bigger guy. The other two guys she hadn't ever seen before, but they were already heading to the second story with the dark-haired girl, one non-descript brown-haired boy carrying a pile of documents, and the other some books and a bag.

"Yano-san!" the blonde girl said, doing a little jog to reach them.

"Oh. Hi."

Temari remembered the blonde girl now; she'd been the one to intervene when that Naruto guy had accosted Gaara and her.

She gauged Shikamaru's reaction, but it was perfectly neutral.

The girl introduced herself again as Ino from the Yamanaka family, and the bigger guy as Chōji of the Akimichi family. Her blonde hair was almost like platinum and tied into a high ponytail that reached her waist, while Chōji had short mane-like copper-colored hair.

Temari was sure Ino was perfectly nice, but she couldn't help but be distracted from Ino's friendly small talk monologue by the two brown-haired boys coming down the stairs.

"Oh, them!" Ino said, noticing her gaze stray. "They came to bring Kurenai-sensei's things."

"Kurenai-san, Asuma-san's partner?"

Shikamaru half-sat on the counter. "Yeah." he shared a look with Ino and Chōji. "We weren't there to see it, but apparently she was feeling very ill and Shizune-san, the school nurse, had to call an ambulance."

There was a hint of anxiety in his voice and in the way his finger twitched against the countertop.

"That must have been why Asuma-san ran out earlier," Temari said, Ino nodding to her.

"Oi," said one of the brown-haired boys, approaching them. The one without sunglasses, but had two red triangles painted on his cheeks.

"Kiba! Shino!"

Triangle guy sniffed, "we're gonna get going. You guys coming? We can go to Ichiraku's?"

"No way," said Chōji in a whiny voice, "you guys won't want to put up with Naruto if he hears we went without him."

"That's half the fun," he said, a cheeky smile on his face, "his fault for ditching arcade night to hang out at Sasuke's."

"And Hinata?" Ino asked.

"Hinata has decided to stay and prepare dinner for Asuma-san and Kurenai-sensei," the sunglasses guy said, "why? Because they will be exhausted after such a difficult day of waiting at the hospital."

Ino hummed. "She could just as well bring them leftovers," she mumbled, disappointed.

"Anyway, that's what Hinata's like. Nothing at all like her cousin, remember him?"

Growing bored again, Temari opened the book she'd started and quickly given up on that morning. It was titled 'The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi', written by a guy calling himself in the 'about the author' section a sage of fiction-writing. Bleh.

The group eventually decided to go to a barbecue restaurant Chōji had been wanting to try, and after a clusterfuck of greetings, they began to file out.

Well, almost all of them.

Chōji turned around.

"Shikamaru, aren't you coming?"

Shikamaru straightened. "Actually…" he was looking at her now, "I think I'll sit this one out," he said, scratching his nape.

"What? Seriously? But you're really good at grilling the meat!"

"Sorry. Rain check?"

They had Ino's attention now.

"You're not coming?" Ino asked from the front door.

The other two guys were already outside.

"Someone needs to watch the employees," Shikamaru pointed at Temari with his head.

"HUH?!" Temari slapped the book down on the counter.

Shikamaru chuckled as she demanded that he explain what authority he had over her or the bookshop at all.

"Oh! Oh…" Ino covered her mouth, "well, have fun, you two!" she said, giggling, and strode forward, grabbing a complaining Chōji by the elbow.

Chōji, who was much taller than Ino, let himself be dragged out of the bookshop, leaving Shikamaru and Temari alone again.

Flustered by Ino's strange behavior, she could only half-assedly glare at him.

"Do you want to play shogi?"

"No."

"I can show you how I beat you last time?"

Temari said nothing.

"Well, if you're sure? You were such a sore loser last time, too."

May the sun burn him for a thousand days.

But… she did want to know…

"... Okay. Show me."

SHIKAMARU

Asuma had forced the issue.

Or at least that's what Shikamaru wanted to tell himself as he walked next to Kurumi, the streets now dark and the wind picking up, gently rustling the leaves of the trees planted along the sidewalks.

Only forty-five minutes after closing time, Asuma had appeared through the door, guiding Kurenai in like she'd broken her legs in three different places.

Kurenai had said the same, and had added: "I'm not dying, I'm just pregnant!"

Then Asuma sheepishly announced the same, then forced Shikamaru to walk Kurumi home.

All because Shikamaru had forgotten he knew where the emergency key was and had he remembered, he would have been able to tell Kurumi to go home.

"What are you thinking so hard about?"

Speak of the demon…

"That I won't get to eat whatever Hinata cooked."

Kurumi's face lit up orange from the streetlights.

"The dark-haired girl."

"Yeah." Somehow, Shikamaru felt uneasy that she was becoming familiar with all their names.

Kurumi hummed, and there was no indication of her still being next to him for a while as they walked through a section of the park where the streetlights had died, besides the squeak of her wine-red boots.

"I hadn't pegged you out as a player. That's an interesting twist."

"I'm not."

"Then what about your girlfriend? Ino, was her name?"

He shuddered. "Don't say such terrifying things again, please."

She laughed, the rest of the city now only a murmur in the background. Her voice was so loud, it pierced his heart. It was warm and soothing.

'For such an annoying person,' Shikamaru completed in his head.

There. That was what he'd meant to think.

Shikamaru had no interest in troublesome romantic entanglements. All they brought was drama, and they tightened the noose called responsibility that was already sitting around his neck.

He was best at avoiding things; it was his specialty.

She stepped in front of him and turned around, walking in reverse. All four of her ponytails bounced with her step. They were turning on the street of the apartment complex she lived in.

"Then what is it, then? Do you like this Hinata girl?"

"No."

"What? Do you not think she's pretty? She seems pretty nice too," she was back walking normally next to him, "like she'd put up with you."

He sighed. Why? Just why this conversation topic?

It was like all the women in his life were out to provoke him into an aneurysm.

"Hinata will put up with anyone. She's that nice. But no; she's not my type."

"Is that so?" she said with a mildly interested tone. "So she's nice, pretty, and all that, sure. Wish someone would say something mean about her, it's kind of boring, but I suppose that's fine. Too many assholes in this world; I'm sure we can leave some space for the actual nice ones."

Shikamaru couldn't help but laugh. "You're counting yourself in with the assholes, then?"

She turned to him.

"Do you like me?"

Horror filled him like water did a bathtub. "What? No." He scowled. "Never. Not in a million years."

His face was hot. Too hot.

She looked at him, examining it, rising on the tip of her toes, her eyes squinting (the teal almost black, swallowed by the orange from the streetlights) before stepping back from him.

"Good."

And she walked away from him without another word.

Shikamaru realized only then they had already arrived at the apartment complex.

He stared at her getting on the stairway and turned away, too, to go on his way, ignoring the little stab he felt in his gut, deciding he must have been hungry and looking forward to dinner.

Shikamaru didn't announce his arrival; with the initial report of choice coming up and Shikamaru still not having reported his decision on a choice of career track or university to Principal Yamato, his mom was always ragging on him to get his act together.

Before even stepping on the wood of the entrance, he listened.

It was faint, but he could make out the words.

"... difficult. At his age, I already knew what I wanted, all I had to do was go and take it!" That was his mom alright.

"You have to give him time. He's never been the type of kid you need to tell things twice to."

Shikamaru suppressed his groan, sliding his trainers on as silently as he could. If only the right shoe was only a bit looser…

"Do you know him at all? You don't know because you leave so early and come back so late every day! I have to tell him to do everything at least twice! Dragging his feet everywhere, with that vacant look of his. Just this morning I told him to be home early, and look at the time!"

Finally, his foot slid in, but he stumbled back, crashing into the wooden sliding door.

"Hello?"

Fuck.

"Shikamaru… is that you?"

Oh fuck. She sounded closer.

Shikamaru threw open the sliding door just as his mom appeared in the darkness of the corridor just off the entrance. There was a fiery glint in her eyes that struck his bones.

"Shikamaru!"

Nope.

He ran like he hadn't and probably should have during Gai-sensei's P.E. evaluation, his mom's voice fading in the background as she chased him all the way to their mailbox.

Almost as he made it to the new park a few blocks down the Yamanaka housing section, Ino joined his now jog.

She was dressed to exercise, unlike him, his uniform plastered to him in sweat.

"Running from Auntie Yoshino?"

"Yeah."

They both panted, jogging side by side.

"Why are we still running?" he gasped, stopping at the park a few blocks down the Yamanakas' main family house, his hands on his knees.

"Yeah," Ino finished her jog in a neat little half-circle, clutching at her waist.

Still panting, she couldn't help but giggle at his face, splotchy in red and pale, wet with sweat.

"What the hell did you do, Shikamaru?"

He stood, his face in a grimace, as he kept wheezing. There was a pain in his ribs. Gai-sensei said it was because he didn't know how to breathe properly. He waved Ino off.

"Clan… Procedures… Class… Elder Enchū… forgot…"

"Oh-hoh…" Ino had that devilish look of hers on her face. "Having too much fun with Yano-san?"

"What?..." It took him a second to realize she meant Kurumi. "No."

"Oh!" she called out, her finger pointing at his face. "You're blushing!"

Shikamaru swatted her hand away, "I just… ran for my life here. Give me a break."

Ino laughed again, "Mmmhmm. Sure."

He tried to look to the side with an annoyed look, although he probably wasn't very intimidating in his current state.

"Trust me. There's nothing charming or cute about that girl."

'Good,' Kurumi had said.

Fine. It wasn't like he was lying. Shikamaru didn't like her either. There really wasn't anything sweet or coy about her, always arrogant when she won, and furious when she didn't. Always proud and stubborn. Always laughing at him with that shiny, crooked smile of hers. Always moping after her Sunan prince or whatever.

And sure, she was pretty, but she was pretty the same way he'd say a… well, she was pretty.

However, Kurumi was an unbearable part of his days. He was honestly just keeping an eye on her for Asuma's sake.

It just was so easy for Kurumi to just somehow… have power over people. She'd say something and… well, people, not Shikamaru, would want to do it.

The memory was unleashed involuntarily. She was bathed in orange light. Her pink lips stretched over her smile as she walked in reverse in front of him, her hair bouncing from that ridiculous hairstyle of hers.

That was right.

Ridiculous. She was ridiculous.

Ino was giggling again, her voice snapping him back to planet earth.

"You girls are all crazy."

"You're such an idiot!" Ino's giggles were now a full-blow forever-laughing disorder. "Come on," she said after the last chuckles. "Let's go find Chōji so we can go have a snack or something."

Like he seemingly was destined to, Shikamaru followed reluctantly.

GAARA

He didn't like it when she moped. It called to something within him that made Gaara want to shake her until she reacted. Threw a punch or something.

Temari was good at holding back in his presence, and he supposed that was the reason he tolerated her the best, despite her looking so similar to…

She fiddled with the dial in the radio.

Yet another day had passed with no contact from Kankurō, and Gaara had to admit he had grown curious about whether he could revisit his idea of leaving them; leaving everything of that wretched country behind.

Gaara… would continue forwards. He would reaffirm his existence; excuse the reason for his continuing to live. He was a failed tool that had become inconvenient.

The spare.

Now that Kankurō had reached the age of majority and would probably be crowned, too, Gaara could see his fate approaching him.

He was no foolish child.

Once Kankurō had become the king, his neck would be the one on the block first. Then, Temari's.

Gaara frankly had no idea why anyone deluded themselves that there was any other reason that he had been born other than so father wouldn't run out of heirs.

"School."

She interrupted his thoughts. Gaara didn't like when that happened; made it harder to remember where they had left off.

Gaara looked at her from where he sat on the sofa.

Temari sat at the dining table, the radio sitting in the middle of it. She rested her cheek on one of her hands.

No elbows at the table. Yashamaru didn't like them putting their elbows on the table.

Why was she asking about strange things?

She straightened immediately when she saw his glare.

"Just wondering how things are going at school?"

Why was she wondering? Did she have to report even this back, somehow?

Except, there was nothing in her eyes except the ever-present fear and a touch of discomfort. Maybe even a hint of actual curiosity.

"There is a pest," Gaara couldn't resist offering.

"Pest?"

"He won't leave me alone."

Temari sat up properly, like when they had dinner with their father.

"Someone's bothering you?"

Gaara thought back to his previously quiet, isolated moments being invaded, little by little, by the blonde menace that was Uzumaki Naruto.

"Uzumaki Naruto? The kid next door? What is he doing?"

He resented her sudden interest. Whatever had opened, was closed now.

"You are a pest now," he warned her.

He stood, and so did she, and she walked so resolutely. Always like she had a purpose.

A purpose; and she was coming towards him, and suddenly Gaara felt like he had to get away.

"Gaara," she said lowly like she was trying to catch an animal.

The stinging came back on his forehead. The air was warm again.

Yashamaru was coming closer to him.

Gaara threw the door of the apartment open.

Her voice was calling, asking him to wait.

Gaara couldn't wait. He knew she couldn't help it, but he couldn't stand her anymore.

The air was warm, and she was inside.

Inside his head now.

Too close. He pushed her away.

She fell against the wall.

Gaara didn't want to hear it anymore.

Temari was kneeling next to him, not looking him in the eyes.

"Hey," she said her voice neither happy nor sad.

Gaara was past the point where apologies hadn't yet lost all meaning.

"We should go back," Temari said to the concrete wall.

Naruto's voice called from behind. "Do you guys need help?"

Temari gave Naruto and Naruto's other friend a 'no thank you'.

She continued to speak privately to Gaara.

"I'm sorry I pried."

Father had tried too many times to get rid of him.

All of the doctors that had come see him.

But he had promised Yashamaru.

Gaara had promised.

"I won't ask anymore," Temari said softly, still not looking at him. "Let's go back in?"

Gaara's hands were shaking.

He had promised Yashamaru he would never tell anyone.

Gaara wanted to go now; run away. Somewhere else.

But he still followed her back to the apartment.