A/N: Sorry! It's been a while hasn't it? I've actually been writing this chapter since I released the last one - but it took me forever. Worst case of writers block EVER. Besides I was (and still) obsessing over that Korean drama - Boys Over Flowers? Lee Min Ho? OMG. I know, I know, I'm late. Anyways, let's get to it? :D By the way, I read back the first few chapters of WTGIG...oh my gosh, that was HORRIBLE writing. I apologize for that. Ok, now I'm really done.
Disclaimer: The oh-so wonderful world of Naruto and its characters do not belong to me. The characters however, that you do not recogonize, do. :)
I was clearly not expecting Sasuke, that bonehead, to give me the ridiculous answer he gave me. Because there was no way, that even he - with all his flaws - could possibly be that dumb.
It was meant to be a light figurative question, not really supposed to have any weight, or a weighted answer. But alas, it did.
"You what?"
"I know him."
"Yes, I got that part thanks," I took steps closer to him and crassly invaded his personal space, "My question is: why didn't I know this sooner?"
He shrugged and rolled his eyes, "I forgot."
I wanted nothing more than to throttle him at that very moment, and bury his body in a cold and dark hole for eternity.
"Oh you forgot? You forgot to pass on that little minute detail, did you?" I poked him in the chest hard - anyone else would have stumbled. But Sasuke wasn't just anyone else. He stood firm, "I find that pretty hard to believe."
"Believe it."
I watched him subtly wince after he spoke, and I rose an eyebrow, "How do you know him?"
The question was curt and to the point. He would answer me, and he would give me everything I needed. There would be no if's, and's or but's about it. I felt like I had reason to believe that Sasuke and the Kazekage had a bit more of a past than he was making it seem. Because by the sound of his indifference, one would think that they had gone out for a cup of coffee or something. That of course was not the case. There was something much more intricate about the reason why Sasuke knew the young Kazekage - and I'm quite sure it was safe to deduce that it wasn't something small.
He sighed deeply and crossed his arms before he answered, "We fought."
I pinched the bridge of my nose in irritation. Did he really have to be so undetailed in his accounts? The Uchiha was officially the worst story teller ever.
"Really? I'm going to need the rest of the five W's Sasuke."
"He was my opponent in the last round of the Chuunin exams."
The next question was obvious, so I didn't feel the need to verbalize it.
"I did, obviously; but the winner was never officially declared."
Textbook narcissism.
"Then how do you even know you won...?"
"Because by the time the fight was interrupted, Gaara was out of commission."
I looked at him in scrutiny. Was that really it? That was the only connection to him? I supposed that was fair enough.
"Is that it?"
"I'm not done."
He turned away from me slowly and took a seat on the bed, his dark eyes focused on the floor. Seemingly struggling to tell me the rest. I wasn't sure if it was because he was lazy, or because he just simply didn't want to tell me. I've known Sasuke for seven years (albeit I wasn't with him for all of those seven years, but it was a good seven none the less), but ironically enough, there was a lot I didn't know about him. I always knew I wouldn't know everything. But I sure wanted to know most of it; and I'm sad to say that I didn't even know that.
I knew very little about his past in Konoha. His family, he didn't speak of often, and I'd never asked him to. More than a decade later, it still hurt him. Pain like that, it never goes away, it just becomes easier to cope with. Besides, talking about his family only made me think about mine. And my pain was just about as present as the day that Snake murdered them all in cold blood. Seven years later and the wound that still about as fresh as the day it happened.
His friends and team mates, he never spoke of. I never quite understood why. One would think that speaking of the closest people one had to friends would be an easy venture compared to speaking about ones dead family. No such luck. My theory was that the Uchiha's - his family - and their massacre, is inherently a part of him. A part of the person he is now. They, and the events that lead to their death are what defines everything that he is today. He has no choice but accept them as part of his life. Whereas with his team mates, they are only kinks in his road. People he has a choice to accept and deny. And obviously, he has chosen to deny them. Choosing not even to acknowledge them in conversation. In a sense I understood this, but in some ways I found it completely incomprehensible. But you know, it was only a theory.
"There's a lot of ground to cover." He warned me.
I raised a brow, "Look at me, does it look like I have anywhere to go?"
He nodded and I sat down beside him on the bed and let him speak. I didn't know if he'd tell me everything, fragments or even lies. I didn't think I cared either. I just wanted to hear it right from the horses mouth.
It didn't take long for him to tell me about his history with the Kazekage. There really wasn't much to tell. They fought, they fought again, and fought some more. I found out that Gaara apparently aided in his retrieval after he fled from Konoha. I also found out that it was Gaara, who more or less offed Kimimaro years ago when Sasuke first came to Sound. His story sure did put some pieces together. But now that I had all this information, what was I supposed to do with it? Besides feeding my curiosity, it really didn't change anything. Besides putting a few pieces together, it really didn't get me any closer to finding out what Gaara's visit meant - and it meant something. I just didn't know what.
But despite all of the information I was just handed, I couldn't help but to think that there was something more to the story that I wasn't seeing. Or allowed to see for that matter. Then again, that was the way I was brought up to think. The Shinobi Way, to think outside the box and to examine not just the seen but inevitably the unseen as well. I could be very well over thinking this. Again, a product of my boundless paranoia. At this point, anything was possible.
"I wonder if there's anything I can do to figure out why the hell he was down there today." I thought out loud.
"No. There's nothing you can do, or going to do. Stay away from him."
I gave him a look, "I don't know where you get off giving me orders, but I wasn't planning on doing anything brash anyway."
"Good." He rose from the side of the bed and headed for the washroom, "in the meantime, we're going to have to be a lot more mindful of our movements."
"Aye aye captain."
"I'm serious."
"Oh, and I'm not? I'm the one who took this seriously in the first place, in case you've forgotten."
"I just don't want you to go prancing around this village looking for answers; and for you to get into a situation I can't get you out of."
I should've been incensed with the idea of him thinking that I would do something so stupid and reckless. Not to mention the part with him having to save me. But I wasn't. I knew that that was his way of looking out for me, no matter how infuriating it was. But it's not like he hasn't made comments like that before, so I turned the other cheek. If you haven't noticed by now, Sasuke was very unorthodox in the way he showed his feelings for people. I, was no exception. Because, obviously.
"So you're saying you wouldn't save me if I got into a bad situation?" I joked.
"I didn't say I wouldn't try." He smirked and closed the bathroom door.
I spent the next morning away from the tea shop training. It was at that very moment that I realized that I hated it; the training I mean. I was lazy, and unwilling to push myself in the way I should be. But Sasuke was right, I could definitely benefit from a few hours out here. As irritated as I was at his insinuation that I wasn't in shape, he had a point. I'm always so busy helping out Midori at the shop, I barely have time to keep my skills sharp. Something that is not only important to me, but is necessary. When you're sort of living on the run, you never quite know when circumstances may arise when you need to be at your best. Which evidently, could be any time.
The wind was strong that morning, which in this climate, meant a mini sand storm. Sure, the breeze was a pleasant relief from the heat of the desert like village, but that didn't mean it was completely welcome. My sweaty skin accumulated the sand as effective as a lint roller to a linty sweater. But it wasn't just on the surface, oh no, copious amounts of sand filled my mouth, my nose, and in places that I didn't even think sand could reach. I couldn't open my eyes the way I wanted to without welcoming several stinging grains of sand on my eyeballs. It was about as awkward and awful as you would imagine. But still, I continued.
How the hell does Sasuke do this every morning?
The same way he can do everything else, I deduced. He pushes himself, something that I was obviously not very good at. I always felt like I didn't have to do it, that all the skills that I possessed sort of came naturally. With the blood. That doesn't mean that I didn't do it, of course I did. But that also doesn't mean I was happy about it. It's comparable to doing the laundry - you don't like it, but it has to be done. With the risk of sounding over-dramatic - I considered training a necessary evil. But still I pushed on.
So did the sand storm apparently. Which wasn't so mini anymore. It seemed as though the harder I pushed against it, it came at me twice as hard. With twice as much sand in my mouth, and all those other places that aren't pleasant in the least.
"Really? This can't get any worse," that instant, as if the storm had ears, a huge mass of sand invaded my mouth. I started spitting and gagging by reflex, trying to get the grainy, hard substance out of my mouth. It was disgusting the way the wet sand clung to my chin and face, and it suddenly occurred to me how lucky I was that I was alone. Because, the current state I was in...it wasn't attractive.
For the first time in my four years living in Suna, I wished that I could control the sand around me. And it only took a several hundred grains of sand to the ears, mouth and nose to finally believe it was useful. Huh, you live and you learn I supposed. To have the ability to somehow pry this crap off my skin and shift this storm around me would be a god send right now.
Even if I could continue train in this weather, there's no way I could get home in it. I could barely see my left hand in front of my face. In a few short minutes, the storm had gone from bearable and annoying to unbearable and violent.
The sand stung my face and eyes - much different than before, and it was coming at me so swift and hard that it appeared as if I was slowly being buried in it. I would survive it, there was no doubt in my mind. It was just a nuisance trying to figure out how the hell I was going to get out of it. No jutsu I knew could help me clear this stuff out of my way - so it was looking like I had to close my eyes, suck it up and push through like any regular person.
Just as that thought came to me, I felt the storm begin to settle, making it much easier for me to walk through. The wind continued to blow just as fierce, but the sand ceased its assault on my face and body.
That's weird. If the wind is still blowing hard, shouldn't the sand be doing the same?
I slowly opened my eyes, moved my arm away from my face and took a peek at the strange weather change that seemingly defied the rules of physics.
When I took in my surroundings, it was like nothing I expected.
Because as I finally opened my eyes, I certainly didn't expect there to be a large dome of sand floating in the air around me - correction - us.
It quickly dawned on me that I didn't have to do any digging about the Kazekage and what his intentions were - or seeking him out for that matter.
Because he had come to me.
