Chapter XIII: Lurking in the Night

The sound of a hawk's screech ran throughout the clear, indigo sky. Large brown wings spread into an arch, gliding expertly on the blowing winds. Its acute eyes scanned the landscape, drawing away trees and bushes to gaze down at a simple movement of leaves. A squirrel scurried along, picking up a few seeds, here and there, before realizing its danger and then darting to the left, scared of being found.

But the hawk did not stick to its usual predatorily nature, instead it turned left and continued on the look out for something, rather someone.

Again it made another circle before flapping its wings and flying away in the distance, the wind carrying away its high pitch screech.

The squirrel crept out of its hiding, finally aware that the danger had passed, for now that is.

In the middle of the thick forest, high up on a tree, concealed by leaves and branches, Temari exhaled a breath in relief. Konoha was searching for them, no doubt angry and intent on punishing them for the mess they had caused. This was the third time that bird circled the sky with its head suspiciously trailing down to their location.

It was certainly a matter of time before they were found.

She looked to her side, catching Gaara's eyes for a moment, before quickly looking away. They still hadn't talked to each, not since that brief ambush about three hours ago. She had wanted to ask him, why he had saved her, but the words just seemed to get stuck in her throat, and so she kept quiet instead.

"We have to move," Gaara said, still not looking at her. He jumped from the tree branch, landing perfectly on the shadowy ground. He took a step forward, but having realized that Temari was not beside him, he looked up expecting her to follow.

Temari gulped, the years of following her youngest brother's orders simply because of fear, still evident. Leaping down from the tree, her feet fell underneath her, and she landed rather embarrassing on the ground, not with her usual grace.

"Can you walk?"

Pathetic that's how the situation was turning out, even more pathetic by the minute as her health didn't seem to be improving and they were forced to hide from a measly bird.

"Yes," she said, though she felt her legs wobbly as she stood. He probably saw past her fib, but didn't mention anything. "Let's go," he said taking a step, but stopped as he realized that Temari still was not following him.

"Gaara, please," she said in a voice awfully small that sounded nothing like the proud kunoichi she'd always been. "Just… a little bit more time," she said not able to stop a cough from stifling out of her mouth. Sunlight was scattering, not necessarily making it dark, but not bright either. Within another two hours the sun would finally sink across the horizon and bring another day to an end. And still no sight of Kankurou. He had left roughly four days ago, and if he wasn't looking for medication he still would have been here with her.

"They'll find us again," he said turning around, hiding the rest of his sentence… and I don't know if I'll be able to keep you safe. I don't know if I can keep this promise or fall into the chaos within me.

He received a tug on his wrist, something no one had ever dared to do. Sand started to hiss angrily at the contact, wanting to attack the intruder who dared touch him, but when he turned around the sand became silent. Temari stared at him with pleading eyes, eyes that showed a great pain for leaving a brother behind.

Temari has always prided herself in being rational, ignoring those silly girly emotions and sticking straight to protocol, but then again nothing like this had ever happened. In any other circumstances—if her brother was not out there wandering alone in a dangerous country—she would have left the idiot out there because there just wasn't no use or logic in waiting for someone that was not going to come.

"Please Gaara?" For the first time, Gaara noticed they had the same colored eyes, except hers were a darker shade than his. We have the same eyes as Mother.

"One hour," he said, turning his back to her.

"Thank you."

She wasn't looking too good, Gaara thought watching her pale face by the corner of her eye. It was so different seeing Temari, the proud, tough kunoichi so sickly and weak and being forced to beg. She wasn't that kunoichi that enjoyed a challenge and excelled in everything. Her hard shell had fallen off and she seemed so lost.

Temari looked a lot like Mother, Gaara thought but left it at that remembering discreetly that Mother had never cared for anyone.

"Temari," he spoke. "He's not here."

She continued staring out at the horizon, waiting for a person that just won't come.

"Temari."

She looked up at him, her face so pale and sickly that it definitely wasn't the Temari he had gone on missions with. "Alright," she said at last, putting the iron fan across her back, and trying to rise from the floor, but then stopped as she felt cold hands holding her up. An arm wrapped around her, sand tickling her own skin, steadying her weight and making it much easier for her to travel.

Gaara said nothing, but took a leap to the nearest branch and carried them both away from the site.

"He'll be back."

And somehow that was all the comfort she needed.

"Hurry up Kankurou!" Temari stopped beside him, waiting for her eight-year-old brother to catch up.

"You're one to talk considering that you can't even lift up your fan." Kankurou countered, pausing once again and shifting the heavy bundle on his back.

The walk back to Baki's house had been a lot longer than usual, considering that Kankurou's small body still couldn't withhold the enormous size and weight of Karasu. She offered to help him carry it, but he clearly refused, yelling something along the lines that 'Master Sasori would be completely insulted if his successor couldn't even carry his puppet!' And so she left him at that, but still he was taking an awful amount of time.

"Yes I can!" she cried out dignified.

Kankurou snorted. "You fell flat on your face."

"I told you I tripped!" Temari yelled, looking away to hid the embarrassment in her face.

"Sure you did."

"I did! Besides my fan is much heavier than your ugly, old doll."

"Karasu is not a doll! He's a puppet, Temari! A puppet made by the great Master Sasori, only you're too stupid to realize that."

"Don't call me stupid!

"With all your bickering, you'll wake up the entire village."

They didn't need to turn around to recognize the owner of the voice. Their bickering must have been too loud that they didn't even hear the footsteps behind them. Both of them gulped, expecting punishment for sneaking out and having skipped an entire day of training. Their sensei towered over both of them, arms across his chest and a deep scowl on his face. He was wearing his traveling cloak.

For a minute, no one spoke a word as the wind continued to howl and throw gust of sand.

Baki sighed, turning his back on both of them. "Hurry up and come inside, you'll catch a cold." Both of them looked at him, surprised for a moment. "There's training tomorrow, and I don't want to hear any excuses," he quickly added.

Baki briefly awoke from his thoughts, realizing that darkness was settling over Konoha. The elders had cancelled his meeting with no explanations whatsoever, but strange rumors had been circulating about strange intruders that had seriously wounded the infamous Copy-nin.

In one of those rare chances, he had an evening to himself, and instead of doing something productive he was busy reminiscent, something that he just hated doing.

They had been missing for the entire day, he remembered. At first he had furious, but then as the hours passed by and there still wasn't any sign of them, a sort of anxiety hit him. Despite himself, Baki had gone searching for them. They probably could take care of themselves, considering that they were advancing at a remarkable rate, but still there was that feeling. He tried to tell himself that Kazekage-sama would be enraged if he lost his children, but then again the Kazekage hadn't so much as paid a visit to them since they arrived almost two years ago. The Kazekage did not care for his children, rather he cared for the shinobi that his children were to become; and if his children could not survive training then certainly they could not survive a real shinobi's life.

The bitter desert winds had blown away their tracks and that feeling resurfaced again, where he couldn't help but wonder about their safety.

But then they had returned, and just by seeing them, a relief had spread over him. He didn't yell, didn't ask where they had gone, didn't punish them for skipping training, somehow just seeing them in one piece had satisfied him.

He sighed, before standing beside the mirror and carefully taking off the cloth draped around his face and looked at his ruined face. He still remembered the acid falling from the sky, touching his skin, burning it so slowly before sinking into the tissue. And he cried out in pain, touching his face, feeling his skin and eye fluid dissolve onto his hands, seeing an odd shaped object on the floor, before realizing that that was a piece of his ear. He remembered begging for water, but in the desert where you are responsible for the death of two squads under you, and water was such a sacred thing, no one cared.

The Kazekage let him yell out in pain, reasoning that this was his punishment for seeking a life of vengeance. Reasoning that if he had only been rational and alert, then there would be eight people standing right beside him. "Let this be a reminder of your foolishness," he said before turning away and leaving him to his misery. And Baki looked at him through bleeding eyes, and realized his fault.

Yashamaru had healed his wounds, only because the Kazekage had allowed so.

In all truths he didn't want to Temari nor Kankurou to see his face, not because of the deformity, but because he would have to explain to them his carelessness and what it had cost the village. He was ashamed and afraid that if they found out they would think less of him like everyone else. He had acted not for Suna, but for his own selfish desires. Suna had gain nothing and lost much more.

A knock interrupted Baki's thoughts, rather memories, and he quickly hid his face, muttering an 'Enter' once he was sure his face was hidden from view.

It was one of Suna's ambassadors, the one Yugao had lost patience with after he refused to answer her questions and had been stabbed in the hand as a result. He continued to clutch his bandaged hand, but there was still an angry scowl that had appeared on his wrinkled face.

"The meetings been cancelled—"

"Excuse me Baki-san," he began "But I have just learned that Suna did not receive the distress signal I sent out."

"That is correct."

"And what's more I've learned that you have decided to not report this to the council."

Baki stood silent, carefully picking his words. "This was not an assassination attempt, rather a misguided grudge. There should be no reason why this interferes with the negotiations and I see no reason to report this to the council."

"Yes, I suppose that's the story Konoha's using to cover up this entire scenario. They were clearly trying to move the negotiations towards their favor." He leaned close to him, his face seriously darken. "Can't you see what this is leading to?" he whispered. "Konoha will have a kunai behind their back as they call us allies!"

This old man still lived in the old customs of Suna: still valued for the greater good, despite the consequences. Right now it seemed a waste to be throwing away the opportunity that Konoha had foolishly set for them. Suna had a reason to declare war, gather a few allies and possibly defeat this weaken Konoha, and prove to the Wind Daimyo once in for all that Konoha was not as powerful as it seemed.

Again he continued to examine Baki, and his face darkened as if questioning his motives. "From what I hear, you personally made a bargain with Konoha's elders to have your team set free."

"Rasul," he finally answered. "They are the Kazekage's Children, and without a proper heir Suna may go into civil wars."

"Then let Kankurou-san free, or perhaps Temari-san, but why all three of them? Why have Gaara return to Suna when we could be free of him once in for all?"

To be honest, he didn't know.

"What has Suna to gain from this? Nothing, but it has so much more to lose. You're putting Suna in risk with this reckless behavior!"

"I am acting for the best interest of Suna," he said unable to stop the rise in his voice.

"You're acting for the best of your students! They are just your students not your children, your students. If Konoha wants them imprisoned, then so be it! We must protect the village from danger at all cost. Baki-san, you are perfectly aware of our customs. A teacher must never have any sort of emotional attachment to his students because eventually the path between them will change. The news that they are being tracked down shouldn't matter at all to you! Don't let this cost the village."

"I am," Baki said speaking with such force that it let no room for any more arguments, "and I will always act on what is best for Suna."

Grasshoppers chirped off in the distance, as stars slowly took their place in the night sky. Branches from the tall trees shook momentarily, before Gaara stepped down onto the ground, glancing throughout the area for any possible danger. "We'll stop here."

Temari nodded, easing herself from Gaara's hold and sitting against a tree. Gaara studied her for a moment, but said nothing, instead disappearing into the thick forest. He returned later with a small pile of wood, and silently began to set a fire.

Thump. Thump.

Temari sat up, fully alert with the possibility that this could be Kankurou. She'd yell at him for making her worry; and he'd laugh and worm his way out; and then they'd come home to Suna and forget that all this happen.

Gaara stood up, green eyes staring off in the distance of the footsteps.

Cling! Cling!

Bells? What were bells doing out here? She pressed her ear onto the ground, listening and calculating the range of these newcomers.

"There are two of them, less than a mile away coming from the west."

She listened harder. "I think they're just passing by."

Gaara continued staring off, his eyes narrowing. "Be on guard."

Temari looked at him questioning. They were probably just civilians, coming from Konoha, if they were making so much noise and walking leisure throughout the darken forest. There seemed to be no dangers, unless these civilians went off snitching to the authorities. But Gaara stood so rigidly, and the sand began to hiss. It seemed as though Gaara could sense something was wrong. "Should we move, then?"

"No, they already know we're here."

The way he said it. The way his body seemed so tense, the way the sand slowly crawled out from the open gourd, ready to attack. It suddenly became difficult to speak, to think, to breathe. Something was wrong, these weren't simple civilians, but something much more dangerous.

Something was looming overhead, and it scared her, not the usual trepidation when she didn't know the whereabouts of the enemy. This was a different type of fear that spread throughout her bones, like a sort of darkness that was gripping her neck and slowly squeezing it.

Cold sweat gathered on her brow, and she couldn't stop the frantic beating of her heart and the trembling in her body.

And then it all hit her, like a splash of cold water.

They weren't going home.

Cl-ing.

The sound of bells jingling continued into the quiet night air. And then, there was a deep crunch of a twig breaking and a scurry of leaves. She gulped, watching the darken shadows and awaiting the face of the enemy. Time seemed to pass so painfully slow, and she briefly thought about home and Kankurou and Baki-sensei, anything to stop this suffocating feeling around her.

Cl-ing.

The pale moonlight provided enough lighting for the two strangers.

And for a moment both parties merely stared at one another. They didn't look intimidating, rather odd looking. She couldn't see their faces, straw-covered hats prevented so much as their eyes from standing out, but she noticed a small bell hanging from the front—no doubt what caused the jingling. They were both dressed the same—red clouds pattered throughout a heavy, black cloak—except that the larger of the two was clutching an enormous sword wrapped in bandages.

"Good evening," one of them spoke, his voice showing that he was probably a few years older than them.

"Good… evening," Temari answered, feeling her heartbeat increasing. There was something about this man that screamed out danger.

She looked towards Gaara, awaiting some signal, to retreat or attack, but instead his eyes were completely fixed on the younger of the two. It seemed that the stranger had an interest in him: as he continued to… almost examine him behind his straw hat.

For a long minute, the young man stared at Gaara, his posture showing that he was rather calm, despite his deadly glare and hissing sand.

"If you'll excuse us," he spoke.

And just like that they passed through them and made their way through the dark forest.

As the two strange pair continued walking through the forest, leaving the two sand shinobi behind, they received a strange buzzing—like a telepathy message of some sort—and they sat down on the dirt floor, closing their eyes in some strange meditative state. It was from their leader, requesting a mission report and something along the lines of a Sealing Statue. When the message was done, the older of the two became flustered. "We shouldn't have retreat," he concluded. "Leader hates it when missions aren't complete."

"Leader will forgive our failure," the younger one spoke, still in that calmed and eased state, a complete opposite to his partner. "When we inform him the whereabouts of the Ichibi Shukaku."

"The Ichibi?" he said staring at him dead serious. "You sure? I mean rumor has it."

"You shouldn't believe rumors—after all rumors are nothing more than an ill attempt at keeping a secret.

"It was said that the Kazekage took the Ichibi bijuu from its imprisonment and sealed it onto his unborn son. This experiment had been tried three times before in Suna and all have been disastrous, but it appeared that this experiment was meeting proper expectations. However, seven years ago, Shukaku became free from its host caused a collapsible amount of damage. There are no explanations how the Ichibi became free, but the Kazekage managed to reseal the demon within its host again."

He sat down on the edge of a rock, listening to the flow of the river splashing against the banks. He took of his straw hat, revealing a face too old and tired for his body. He appeared to be in some sort of pain, but he ignored it, continuing with the story. "There were many casualties and damages to the village that the experiment was declared unstable and promptly ceased," he said it with such tranquility that it was oddly petrifying. "The bijuu was said to be resealed in its teakettle and hidden within the deepest parts of Wind Country."

"And you thing that boy is its vessel?"

"I believe so. Those dark rings around his eyes, his short stature, and his irritability: they are the signs of a lifetime of insomnia. The sand that seemed to move of its own occurred and that feeling of chakra, yes that was definitely the Ichibi's container."

His partner let out a roar of laughter, shrugging the enormous sword off his back. "Well it must be our lucky day. The Kyuubi gets away, but the Ichibi walks up to us." He grinned, his sharp teeth making his look predatorily, like a shark set on attacking.

"No."

The look was gone, and he stared incredulously at his partner. "But—"

"We shall report this to Leader," he said rising from the rock and stepping onto a green leaf. "The Leader will do accordingly, but our target is the Kyuubi."

"If you say so," the other sighed, but followed after his partner. They continued their journey throughout the night, and if border patrol dared stopped them, it was merely a look that sent their bodies limp on the floor.

"Who were they?" Temari finally asked, noticing that Gaara was still staring were they had disappeared to.

"I don't know," Gaara responded. Temari watched as the sand entered the gourd, filling to the brim, but the cork was missing, so the sand spilled slightly as Gaara moved. He continued setting the fire, still not speaking to Temari until it was nearly midnight. "I'll keep watch."

She looked at him.

"I'll keep watch," he repeated this time more assertive. Even though Gaara suffered from insomnia, he never kept watch and it was usually up to her or Kankurou to stay up late into the night.

"Right," she answered, setting her head against the trunk of a tree, but still she could not fall asleep. That momentary anxiety had left her, and now she was wondered desperately about the whereabouts of her brother.

"He'll be back," Gaara spoke into the night air.

"Yeah, he will," she agreed. Her eye lids became heavy, and she slowly drifted to sleep.

It was roughly three in the morning when she was jerked awake. Immediately her hand went to her fan, but then stopped midway. Her eyes widen for a brief second, but then she smiled, softly patting his back, thoughts of yelling at him gone at the moment. Gaara watched them for a moment, before leaping off into a tree branch, once again realizing that he didn't belong. He could never truly understand them, but that was alright because he was learning. Naruto had taught him a new world and he was slowly learning about it. He placed the recovered cork within the opening of his gourd.

Kankurou buried his head into Temari's shoulder and, Gaara noted, his entire body began to shake, in an almost lachrymal matter.