Chapter IV: Sand's Way

"Status Report," Baki firm authoritative voice rang through camp. It was a little pass noon, the time during the day when the desert heat started to become unbearable, so naturally the small group of Sand shinobi had stop under a cool canyon wall to take a break.

Most of their faces were grim and silent as they treated wounds and drank water. Right now everyone wanted to get home, and this break was more nerving than relaxing.

"Most of our units have arrived to Suna," a messenger responded appearing to his left.

"Good," Baki nodded, walking pass some medic ninja that were working on several cripple shinobi.

"How is our water supply?"

"There is enough for another day. We should make it to Suna in another two days."

"We'll need to pick up speed," he muttered more to himself. "Any word on Kazekage-sama?" he asked not flinching that the guy he had just walked by was missing a left arm.

"No. A search team is expected to search for him."

"I see," Baki said stopping in his tracks and looking beyond the sand dunes. He knew that was a lie and that search team was probably still in Suna, experiencing some 'delays.' The council was probably dancing in joy at the turn of events. Of course they were upset about their lost numbers, but now the council had been given temporarily power of the village, and there was no way they were going to give up this power so soon.

To say the least, the Yondaime Kazekage was not the most popular among his council. His popularity had been slowly deteriorating ever since his devastating proposal of making Gaara Suna's trump card. When it became clear that they boy could not control the sand demon suddenly the idea seemed ludicrous, and ironical Suna had created their own downfall instead of preventing it. This invasion of Konoha was the last chance for the Kazekage to fix the strained relationship between the council, but now Baki wouldn't be surprised if he was kicked out of his own country.

He sighed. This was all a complete mess; the balance of power has been disrupted, and it was mere luck that Konoha hadn't decided to invade Suna. They needed to act immediately.

"Tell the council that I am requesting a team to carefully patrol the border. We are the last forces that have retreated from Konoha. As soon as we make it to Suna, I want all of our borders closed."

"Hai!" the messenger said saluting at his superior.

"Also, tell Temari and Kankurou I want them to join a team and join the border patrol as well. I'll be meeting with them—"

"But sir," the messenger interrupted. "Temari-san and Kankurou-san still haven't return to Suna."

"What?" Baki asked outraged. "They left before we did! They should have been home two days ago!"

"A count was made," the messenger said taken aback by his superior's tone. "About less than half of our troops returned from Konoha. The Kazekage's Children were not present in the count. They have been declared missing-nin since yesterday."

"Sir, Konoha's ANBU have been deployed throughout the Land of Fire, and they are taking in any prisoners."

Baki stopped in his tracks silent looking pass the sand dunes.

It would take another two days to reach Suna and with the water shortage, along with the injured shinobis they couldn't wait any longer. He had to act.

Closing his eyes a picture of his three students came to mind.

He did it because his student was precious to him? Temari had whispered after watching Gai stop the deadly sand from finishing off Rock Lee. It wasn't only Gaara that was surprised by this behavior, but Temari and Kankurou were shocked by this affectionate behavior, as well.

Growing up in the desert, Sand shinobi and Suna's customs had grown practically inseparable, especially hierarchy. The uttermost respect would be shown to a shinobi of higher ranks, especially in the relationship between a student and a teacher. According to them, a teacher is not supposed to feel anything for his students. They should be kept as emotionally neutral as possible, avoiding any bonds with his students, because eventually the student and teacher would separate either in battle or in their own paths.

If a student were to be killed the teacher would replace him, and if the teacher should be killed then the student would replace him. But that guy? Sure he behaved like a complete fool with that ridiculous attire and words, but he still shoved his nose into his student's battle. He shouldn't have done that. It should have been the standard procedure, he loses a student, and he quickly replaces one, simple. But he saved him.

That was another thing that made Sand and Leaf so different. A teacher would never do something like that.

He sighed.

Those kids sure put him in a lot of hell. He'd taken Temari and Kankurou as his students when they were about seven years old and immediately realized they were spoiled rotten. How many times did he get whines, tantrums, and the usual pranks? However that was in the beginning, within time he'd train them to death and eventually they'd stop their whining and became one of Suna's best.

He'd known Temari and Kankurou when they were small children, but Gaara became his 'student' when he was ten years old even though there was practically nothing that he could teach him. Gaara aced the Genin Exams with no problem and completed mission without any hassle. But still they were his students.

"Sir?" the messanger asked carefully watching his superior. It seemed as though he had a conflict within himself.

"Tell the rest of the camp we're leaving by sunset. We're picking up speed and traveling through the night. This is… this is the last day we wait for anyone from then on they're on their own."

"Hai!" The messanger answered running in the opposite direction.

----

He was used to it. Death was nothing new to him. His mother and uncle had died when he was younger, and he'd gotten all dressed up and gone to the funeral with Temari. But where he was supposed to be mourning, he found himself yawning every few minutes in complete boredom. His nanny had forced him to come, and he remembered complaining and whining that he didn't want to go.

They're dead.

Both of them were strong shinobi and to think the only time both of them really needed you. You backed off. You couldn't save them.

So why was it that a part of him ached? It felt deeper than any stabbed wound he received, and yet Ibiki had used no physical force.

Lying on the dirt floor, Kankurou knew what it truly felt like to mourn for someone. Not just dressing up and standing by a tomb holding flowers for the decease, but to truly feel a lost.

He never thought this would happen.

Somewhere along the line, he'd come to believe that his team was invincible. After all with Gaara, it isn't too far off to think about that. Every mission the Kazekage gave them would be done easily, with record timing and no sweat. But apparently his team was no more invincible than anyone else; his just had a prolonged failure.

The sound of metal rattled against the floor brought him back to his cuffed hands. Blood was still oozing from the broken skin, and his two crushed fingers had turned a pallid blue, while sending stabs of pain to his brain. He supposed there should be some concern over his imperiled hands, but oddly enough he couldn't care less.

The guards had bounded his hands again with thick heavy chains making them rattle whenever he moved. Two days had passed, and he hadn't heard anymore interrogations, which meant that they had gotten all the information that they wanted, or perhaps they were just letting him rot in the prison with the rats. To be honest Kankurou didn't care what Konoha was thinking or what had been going on outside, he just wanted to be left alone to his own thoughts.

Temari…

It pained him more to think that his sister was dead than of a smart and strong kunoichi.

Both of them had grown up together, not as normal siblings would. Their mother had died when they were just forming memories of her, while their father completely neglected them when he was handing out missions. Then there was the constant fear that their little brother might have a tantrum one day and simply kill them off.

Yes, they did have a highly dysfunctional family, but that abnormality only brought him and his sister closer together.

Granted they weren't the happy and cheerful siblings in stereotypes. No they fought. A lot. Either verbally or physically.

But in the end, they would fix each other's wound, treat the other out, and then laugh about the whole ordeal. They couldn't stand each other, but they were still inseparable.

He closed his eyes. He loved her, and now she was gone. Maybe if he had them closed he would simply forget everything…

"Kankurou?"

"Temari?" he asked sitting up on his bed. "Are you feeling better?"

"A little bit," she said softly. "What about you? You skipped dinner again."

"I'm not hungry," he simply responded, even though it was almost a week since he last ate anything.

Moving slightly to the left of the bed, he watched as Temari crawled next to him and shifted to the right to give her some space. She sat back on the bed, and for one rare moment both siblings were quiet.

"I'm scared," she finally said looking up at the dark ceiling.

"I don't see what you're so scared about. It's just a new house." It was already three days, since the Kazekage ordered them to begin their training as shinobi. They had been taken away from the palace they used to reside in, all their toys were gone and overnight the two seven-year-olds were force to grow up. There would be no more nannies, but a sensei to teach them how to become strong shinobi because with the comings of being the Kazekage's children they were expected to be the best.

"I'm not a big baby like you!" she said angrily. "It's… about 'it'?"

Kankurou kept quiet, not thinking that there was anything funny when it came to 'it'. He didn't know when they had started to call the demon that resides in their youngest brother as it, but whenever one of them would say the other would understand. It was almost as if the word Shukaku was taboo

"Whenever I close my eyes I still see its eyes," she said.

"It's alright Temari," he said snuggling into her. "We'll just have to make sure we get stronger…."

"Yeah," she nodded holding on to him. "It took away Mama, and hurt Kazekage-sama. W-what if it takes me away?" she said softly.

"Who'd wanna take you? I mean your too loud and bossy—oww!"

"Baka!" she said angrily having kicked his shin roughly under the covers. "I'm still older than you!"

"So?" he said angrily, pulling on her pigtails. She yelled out in pain, but in retaliation by poking him in the eye.

"You have to respect your elders!"

"Well I'm taller!"

Temari pouted, not coming up with any argument.

"Baka!"

"Bossy!"

She narrowed her eyes at him and put as much distance as she could between them without falling off the bed. But within a few minutes, after making sure Kankurou was asleep, she snuggled right next to him and slowly drifted off to sleep.

"I'll get stronger for you, Temari," he whispered, peering over her closed eyes. "Both of us will get strong. That way you'll… never cry again… and nobody can separate us, not even Kazekage-sama."

He put his hand under the pillow feeling the outlines of an old kunai he had found. If only Kankurou could believe his own words, then he wouldn't have to fall asleep with an eye open.

For a minute he expected to see Temari sleeping beside him, to hear Baki's loud voice waking them up early in the morning, to hear the tabbing on the window of sand colliding with glass, but he didn't see any of this. Instead he saw the surrounding darkness and the cold cell walls.

He tried hard to fall asleep again, to simply ignore the world around him and live in the memories of the past. Life seemed so useless right now and he was just tired of it all. Temari was gone, Baki wasn't coming, and so he would just give up; give up and sleep and dream until hunger became starvation and eventually death.

He pushed his head up against the wall. The sudden movement caused his hat to fall on the floor, and the metal headband to cling as it touched the floor. He didn't know why he turned it over, it just came instinctive, or why he was staring so long at the simple hourglass.

Kankurou didn't know why he spent over five minutes staring at the symbol that was carved so carefully on that stretch of metal. Always remember the three most important values to a Sand shinobi, Baki had said long ago when he and Temari were beginning their training.Whenever you're in a position that you just want to give up, always remember the three most important values.

"Yes," he said out loud, his voice a bit hoarse from lack of use. "Yes. I remember."

He placed the hat carefully aside, a surge of energy growing inside him, a new goal formulating in his head. The puppeteer looked at his cuffed hands. The metal had been specially design to disturb the flow of chakra and the creation of jutsus, but was a little bit loose on his wrist. For several minutes, Kankurou studied the cuffs through the dim light trying to find a hind, but had no luck in the process.

There was a loud squeaking at the front of the door, and Kankurou looked with disgust as a large black rat finished the stale bread that had been brought to him days ago. The animal sniffed at the floor until it reached the wall and somehow managed to squeeze itself through a crack.

Kankurou looked at his hands again. The thumbscrew was gone, so he had the ability to somewhat move his hand. Carefully he brought his crushed fingers under the metal, and began to push, overlooking the shots of pain that kept racing back to his head. He pushed again, harder this time, and within time managed to free his hand.

The simple action had him sweating and panting with exhaustion, but he didn't give up just yet. He looked at his other uninjured hand for a minute.

Then putting his little finger against the wall he pushed on top of it violently. It felt as though someone was cracking a twig apart. He bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from yelling in pain.

Pride, the village, and family; these were the greatest assets that any Sand shinobi could possess. Ever since he was young he was taught the importance of them. He was taught to eliminate an enemy if he was underestimated or mocked. He was taught that the village matter before one's own life. He was taught to make Suna proud.

And he was taught one should always honor their family.

He pushed on his little finger again until he felt the fracture of his bone.

"No matter what happens," he said softly ignoring the pain. "I promise to return to Suna with my…"

He paused as a torn, broken down figure came to his mind.

"Both," he corrected himself, somewhat slipping his hand from the cuffs. He banged his finger again causing the tiny bones to break even more until the point where the bone struck out from the flesh. "Both my siblings," he gasped trying to ignore the pain.

"And if… if they are dead…. I'll take their corpses to our homeland… and give them a proper funeral. So… they can rest in peace and not rot in this shit. I'll take both of them home."

--Mel