I was almost convinced that this story would crash and burn and that I would have to delete it out of shame. I'm glad I was proven wrong. :D

I'm very, very, very sorry for taking so long to update—it's been a very long time since I could sit down and type, without feeling pressured by schoolwork or slipping grades. Please bear with me; it may be a while before I update again.

Thank you reviewers! Thank you so much! I also want to thank those that favorited the story and myself as well—I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

Enjoy again.

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The Kazekage and his comrades were packing.

Kankuro was placing undergarments in his bag, folding them neatly one by one. Temari and Shikamaru were taking part in a grotesquely cute activity—one that involved packing each other's bags and commenting on each others' progress. Occasionally Temari would lean over and complain about how Shikamaru was folding things wrong, or how he misplaced her weapons. Shikamaru would endure the ridicule patiently, and never once said anything about Temari's handiwork. It wasn't like he could—his girlfriend was a perfectionist.

Gaara entered the room and asked, deadpan, "Are we ready?"

Kankuro zipped up his pack and flung it over his shoulder. He grinned and replied rakishly, "Anytime you're ready, dear brother." His charm was lost on the Kazekage, though, as Gaara turned to him with an unblinking stare and said, "Might we speak privately for a minute?"

Kankuro followed him out of the beige dome they lived in and into the windy streets. He waved and smiled at a small group of teenage girls, enjoying their giggles and cute little flouncing.

Gaara looked on him and the girls in disgust, even going so far as to remark, "Why do you even bother? Their heads are empty, as is their inane 'laughter.' Why don't you find a real girl, one that you actually care about?"

Kankuro was a bit hurt. "That's really blunt of you, Gaara," he said sheepishly. "And you're just jealous they pay attention to me and not you!" he added vehemently, childishly.

Gaara gave him a look. "I already have someone in mind," he said stiffly. "And so your theory is incorrect. Before you distracted me, I meant to say that while we are in Konoha, you must behave yourself. You are an emissary of mine, and I expect you to behave maturely. Remember, we spent time with these shinobi years ago—don't treat them like toys; treat them like people, especially the women."

Kankuro barely registered what Gaara's latter words were. Instead, he asked excitedly, "You're kidding me—you like someone? Who is it? You have to tell me!"

A tinge of pink appeared in Gaara's face, but he remained impassive as ever. "It's early days," he replied. "I only realized it on my last trip to Konoha, over a month ago."

"Did you talk to her?"

Gaara glowered. "No."

Kankuro was dumbstruck. "You're joking. Please tell me you're joking."

Gaara shook his head. "I wish," he muttered.

Kankuro began to laugh, full-on belly laughs that scared a few people across the street. "My brother is an idiot," he laughed, finding the situation immensely entertaining.

His brother seethed across from him, watching Kankuro enjoy himself. "Are you done now?" he asked quietly.

Kankuro calmed down and tried to breathe. "I'm sorry, Gaara, I just can't believe it. Why didn't you ask me for help?"

"You would do the same thing you just did not a minute ago. You'd laugh at me, and not help me. I figured this was easier, to have you offer me openly instead of having me come to you for help."

"You predicted I would laugh?" Kankuro asked, curious.

Gaara nodded.

"Huh," Kankuro said. "Huh."

"In any case, think about what I told you. Act your age," Gaara said finally, and walked away. The people of the Sand Village greeted him as he passed, until he eventually turned around a building and disappeared.

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They set off.

They raced across the dunes, skirting dust devils and storms. Halfway to Fire Country, they stopped at an oasis for lunch and a rest. While Temari and Shikamaru were wading in the water, Kankuro sat next to his brother and pressed him for more information on his mystery woman.

"So, what's her name?" Kankuro said offhandedly.

"You're very determined," Gaara remarked, as if he were expecting the confrontation all along.

"I'm curious. Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

"I don't think you recognize the irony in your words."

"I know, I know. It's the ears; I look like a kitty-cat," Kankuro grumbled. "But what you don't recognize is the fact that I am appreciated, far and wide, by the opposite sex." He giggled immaturely.

Gaara rolled his bright blue eyes and scoffed. "I'm not going to tell you her name."

"Okay, can I guess?"

"If you must."

"Sakura Haruno."

Gaara gave him a poisonous look. "I think you should stop now, especially if she was your first guess," he said flatly.

"Okay, okay, what about her friend? Ino something-or-other."

Gaara sighed.

"Okay… How about the chick with buns in her ears? The one that tried to take on Temari but got her ass kicked," Kankuro mused.

Gaara shook his head.

"Huh. Let me think." Kankuro massaged his temples dramatically. "The quiet girl! The one that had to face her cousin? Was it her?"

Gaara didn't say anything.

"Whoo-hoo! I found you out!" Kankuro bellowed happily. Temari and Shikamaru looked up at them from their places in the water, not understanding. Gaara waved at them awkwardly.

"Why do you like her?" Kankuro then asked, not bothering to hide his contempt. "She has zero curves, and I've never heard her talk, let alone laugh or flirt or anything. She's a crappy shinobi, too. Why do you like her?" he repeated.

Gaara was silent. Then he said softly, "She's different."

"That's it?" Kankuro was clearly disappointed.

"No," Gaara replied. "I haven't even talked to her, don't even know her, but I still think she's special. She's different—she separates herself from the normal and expected standards of a young woman, whether it's deliberate or not. She tries so hard to live up to one's expectations, while everyone around her tries just as hard but masks it under forced effortlessness. She is different, and I believe I can appreciate her for that."

"Is she pretty, at the very least?" Kankuro demanded.

Gaara looked up at him, straight and honest. "She's beautiful."

"Lemme guess—but in a different way," his brother mocked him.

"Very good," Gaara said, smiling vaguely. "You're learning."

"So describe her to me."

"She's short, up to my shoulder," Gaara said.

"Gaara, you're almost six feet tall," Kankuro pointed out. "Every girl is short compared to you."

The Kazekage ignored him. "Her hair is dark and long, and she ties it up. Her bangs hang down around her eyes. And her eyes… They're her most striking and perfect feature," Gaara said breathlessly. He caught himself and cleared his throat. "She's very beautiful, that's all," he said abruptly.

Kankuro thought about it. He pictured a curvy woman, a tall woman, and strong and confident woman, one with big boobs and a nice butt and an easy smile. He saw her throwing a kunai, tossing a shuriken, handling a staff, a katana, a scythe with ease and fluidity. He was enamored with his imagination.

"Careful, brother," he teased, "otherwise I'll fall in love with her too."

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I said bear with me, didn't I? (Teehee.)

This chapter is unnecessary, yes, but I've decided to put a twist on it. I dunno about you, but I think it makes the story more interesting. I didn't really have a definitive plot in mind earlier, but now I can see where it's going. :)

Thank you for reading—please review!

-Heart