Ch. 6: Reality is Subjective

Kankurou stands right by the doorway watching his motionless younger brother. He's sure that he should be doing something. Something family edict would require be done, but all he can do is stand there. It's all surreal to him; even by just standing there, he's waiting for this world to disappear from his eyes, to soon be fashioned by reality.

This is reality, Temari had chastised him earlier. It is, and you need to go see if he's okay.

So here he was, standing at the door of the room, watching his younger brother. There he stood, detached and removed, in this…this version of reality.

Gaara, impassive as always, hadn't said a thing as he walked in, if it weren't for the fact that Gaara never addressed anyone unless he was killing them, then Kankurou would have ventured Gaara didn't even know he was there.

The redhead simply lay on the bed, his head inclined to the side, his sea-foam eyes studiously watching the scene outside the window.

It's not like there really was anything outside the window, Kankurou muses. There were no people, no plants, no rocks, there weren't even any clouds. He wonders what his younger brother is thinking. He always has wondered. Naturally Kankurou's always perceived the red-head as a rotten child whom always felt entitled, but Kankurou never really knew what Gaara was or who Gaara was. And with the words (or lack thereof) Gaara said it was harder for him to know.

Sometimes that fact bothered him – Gaara was his brother after all. But sometimes he was glad he didn't know: he was more than just a little afraid of what he would find. It was always 'kill you', 'kill this', or 'shut up' with his younger brother. Gaara had always been boss (if not unreasonable and in constant need of an attitude adjustment) even when they were young. He'd been boss, because he was tough, strong, highly volatile, and as Kankurou had previously thought – unbreakable.

He hadn't been there like Temari had. He hadn't seen Gaara lose, so the prospect in his mind was still unreal. It was still…fiction. But just seeing the small red-head lying on the bed, bandaged and immobile was enough to throw him. Gaara would heal quickly; that thing inside of him fixed everything rather quickly, but…

There was still something wrong.

Gaara had bleed. Gaara had lost. Gaara had been reduced to a state so…pitiful – so human. There was something – something off with those things that he just couldn't quite deal with at the moment.

Gaara was supposed to be the embodiment of fear and malevolence. How could the redhead be such things if he were human? How could…? And if he was human – if he'd always been human, then…Then he'd treated him horribly in the past.

Avoiding a demon made sense. Avoiding a troubled person did not.

He couldn't be so…human, though. He was Gaara. Gaara was not – he was not – he was not like him and Temari. He and Temari broke, cried, yelled, and would eventually die. He and Temari screwed up and lost their sense of self. Gaara was not…

Gaara was the only constant Kankurou had in his life.

That couldn't change.

"Is…" Gaara rasps slowly, his eyes still focused on the lack of image outside the window. "Temari…okay…?"

Kankurou's mouth slings open a bit. He closes it promptly trying hard to hide his shock; furthermore, trying hard not to do something girly like faint. But, those words…Did Gaara really care? "She'll be okay; it's just a broken arm." The words sound foreign and sticky as he says them. Talking to Gaara feels slightly moronic. Like he were trying to have a conversation with a brick wall. A brick wall that could and would kill you, but still a brick wall.

Gaara turns to look at him for the first time. And for the first time in his entire life, Kankurou doesn't turn away or flinch. He doesn't really know why; maybe he just wants to be sure that he isn't dreaming. Maybe it's the stupidity of this entire thing that has him feeling more valorous than usual. Kankurou talks tough, but rarely does he ever feel brave; prior to this event, he can't remember ever just looking at his brother and feeling no fear.

The redhead's eyes are questioning, even though his face is blank. "Why…Why are you…here?"

'Temari' would be the obvious and most honest answer. Probably what he would've have answered if he wasn't in such a trance. Kankurou shrugs, the muscles in his back moving up and down feeling the smooth wall of their home. "Nothing better to do."

"You could…see…Temari."

Kankurou scoffs. "If she hadn't kicked me out." He immediately regrets saying those words and the long absence of fear dissipates. He realizes then exactly who it is he's talking to. Kankurou thinks he sees Gaara frown, but the frown doesn't seem to come until after nervousness overwhelms his body. Or so he thinks.

Gaara doesn't answer; he turns his attention back to the window.

Kankurou hears a large ruckus and then Temari bumps into him rather forcefully. Out of habit, Kankurou's hands instinctively swivel around his older sister to keep her from falling and pull her upright. Temari scowls and slaps his arms away, or tries, as she can only use one arm her effort is a bit weak. But the blonde doesn't seem to be paying attention to him. She's glancing outside the doorway in annoyance and panic.

"I'm fine!" She yells. "I don't need any stupid anesthetic! No needles! NO! Do you hear me lady? I am fine!" An elder cross lady walks into the room after Temari.

Kankurou smiles at his distraught sister as she continues yelling at the woman who was 'caring' for her. The woman had been sent home with them for the next week to care for both Temari and Gaara, but no Suna civilian in their right mind would try to care for Gaara. So really she was only here for Temari.

The entire spectacle Temari puts up is quite amusing.

"Ack! No!" Temari exclaims abruptly and swivels away pulling Kankurou up from against the wall so she can hide behind him. "I'm fine! I'm fine!" Her fingers are curled into the back of his sweater, "You know what, lady?" she rants in frenzy, "You're fired! Go home! I'm fine. FIRED! Shoo!"

The nurse purses her lips. "Temari-san you need—"

"You heard…her." Gaara rasps quietly. "You're…fired…"

The nurse swallows nervously. "O-Of co-course, Gaara-san." She stutters nervously and the russet color of the nurse's pallor drains immediately, she's almost chalky pale. Kankurou wryly wonders how fast her heart is beating. It's a bit…hypocritical he's sure to find her fear amusing and bitingly irksome when his constant fear of Gaara is still ever present. But the fear all those outsiders have of Gaara has always bothered him to no end. Their particular fear is rather unfounded to be honest; if anyone had a right to fear the red-head it should be him and Temari. No one else has ever seen him kill anyone. Okay, maybe Baki.

Temari sags against him and sighs in relief as they can hear the nurse practically run out of their home. "Oh thank goodness."

He turns around to look at his sister; the tightening in her fingers loosens to allow him to turn. Her hair is a bit messy and her eyes are buggy. She really was freaked. He scoffs at her. "Tem, you can't seriously tell me you're this damn freaked about a fucking needle?"

She raises her hands frantically in the air. "Why is that a bad reason? It's pointy and creepy and filled with liquid-y stuff! Worse so, they stab me with it with the expectation of me getting better!"

"It does make you better." He protests calmly.

"No!" She denies. "You know what it does? It makes you loopy, gives you hallucinations, and makes your forget reality. It is an ultimate weapon that makes your opponent lose his or her footing."

"Temari," Kankurou rolls his eyes in exasperation, "she's not your opponent. She's not even a shinobi, and this most certainly isn't a battle. All she's trying to do is take away the pain."

She crosses her arms and stares down (or up, really, seeing as how he's taller than her now) at him defiantly. "I am a shinobi. I can handle the pain."

"Then surely you can handle a needle."

She kicks him hard with her left foot and glares at him.

Her kick hurts a little, but not much. He doesn't think she meant for it to hurt him. He laughs at her. It's at this point he notices that Gaara is looking at them. At first, Kankurou is a bit frightened, thinking that maybe they're annoying him. But as he keeps looking he notices a different look in his younger brother's eyes. One he's never seen on the redhead.

He thinks – no, he's sure – he's seen it before on Temari.

Gaara is lonely.

Temari swivels about to look at the redhead lying on the bed. The blonde doesn't say anything at first. She's just staring at him rather calmly and clearly. Still not saying a word she walks over to where he's lying and sits on his bed. Gaara looks, if possible, even more confused than before. "How's your arm?" Temari finally speaks.

Kankurou is tense: if this is a dream it probably won't end well. If this is reality, it still probably won't end well.

"F-Fine…"

Kankurou sags. Good, a better reaction than he'd imagined.

"Good." Temari replies.

Gaara's eyes are drawn to the window again. "…I…I'm…sorry…"

Kankurou watches his younger brother still more sure than ever that something in here isn't real. Something can't be real. When Gaara had apologized as they left Konoha, Kankurou chalked it up to a chakra-empty state. Now – Now there was nothing that could justify the apology. Nothing except…

Maybe he meant it.

"You don't have to apologize." Temari says softly. Her eyes are closed and she's fiddling with her fingers in her lap. "I should apologize. I haven't been a very good sister. I don't think I've ever been even a mediocre sister to you."

The feeling of unreality was still there. In fact it was there more than ever. Something still was…too different. Too separate. Too not the same.

He watches his brother stare at the window, that feeling – feeling of loneliness and remorse in his eyes. The obvious display of vulnerability in his expression. He watches Temari fiddle with her shirt, watches her remorse.

His constants are all gone to hell, and he just…he doesn't get it.

He wants to get it. More than ever he wants to look at them and be able to just…understand. He wants to know what Gaara's thinking. He wants things to be better.

Maybe…if they tried, just a little bit, they could be – better.

Who ever said that keeping things the same was a good thing?

"Apologies are for suckers." Kankurou says to them suddenly. "That was then, this is now."

Temari frowns at him. "Kan—"

"Your friends don't need to hear your apologize and your enemies won't believe you anyway."

Temari stares at him and then a laughter spills from her lips uncontrollably. "Where did you get that? Have you been reading some book to make you sound like an intellectual?"

He scowls. "I'll have you know I'm very intellectual."

"In your imagination maybe." Gaara says quietly.

Kankurou stares at the redhead.

Temari does the same.

Gaara looks a bit confused and definitely anxious. "…Was that…bad?"

Temari grins. "Was that a joke?"

"You have humor!" Kankurou grins. "Thank Kami, I was hoping I wasn't the only non-boring one in our family."

"Hey!" Temari protests immediately.

"Nuh-uh!" He reproaches her immediately, a glorious idea occurring to him. "You can't attack me today. You're damaged. Limited mobility and all that rot."

"Only my arm is broken!"

"I'll stab you with a needle." Kankurou threatens.

"You wouldn't dare."

He couldn't remember the last time he and Temari had such an open conversation (or meaningless quarrel, to be technical). He couldn't remember being comfortable in a room that Gaara also occupied. And he definitely couldn't remember reality being quite so…enjoyable.

It didn't matter much, he thought as he and Temari continued arguing about whether or not he would stab her with a needle and Gaara watched. Whatever this was and wherever it was happening was all pointless anyway.

They'd been living by the rules and realities that others had imposed upon them before. They kept things statuary – the way they should be.

Sure there were some realities neither he nor Temari had accepted before, so they had fought them with every fiber in their being. The problem was, Gaara hadn't known how to fight them and he didn't have anyone to tell him he could fight them. Kankurou would be sure that he would be a little better to him. Maybe he would still be afraid. He couldn't quite erase his fear so suddenly, but he would try.

Reality was subjective anyway.

Might as well make it a good reality while he was at it, right?

A/N: It really pains me to say this, but I'm going on hiatus.

Just for a tiny bit though!

Lately, I've just been swamped by school work (MAJOR projects) and competitions. This month just isn't good for me. -annoyed sigh- So, I'm going to convince myself not to write (because otherwise I don't work and become incessantly tempted to write things. This week alone I've been bothered by over ten different ideas). So, to better my grades and junk, I'm going to not write anything until my projects are finished.

Usually, I procrastinate horribly (so a lot of this is my fault), but I'll try my hardest to get everything I need done really quickly. Promise. I'll be back to writing and updating -- hopefully, if all goes well -- by February 25th.

Thanks for everything, you guys are awesome reviewers and will try to finish ASAP

Much Love,

Jenni

PS. Am I the only one who hates Valentines?