Where Suna's council met had changed over the years, varying with the whims of each Kazekage. The Yondaime had preferred traditional settings, with low hung bamboo screens and tatami mats, the Godaime chose a more modern and straightforward environment, with everyone on an equal elevation facing each other around a circle of tables. It didn't matter much, because the basic dynamics barely ever changed; neither did most of the people; or the content of the meetings.
Today's agenda included, but was not limited to: border patrol on the north-eastern front; the results of this year's genin exams; the ensuing paperwork for the resulting new teams; the question of finance for maintenance work on the walls and some of the civic buildings and, last but not least, a new taxation system on waste disposal introduced by the daimyo. Absolutely riveting; Kankuro was nearly asleep.
He was interested in border patrols; he was interested in maintaining proper defences; he was vaguely interested in new genin teams and the best combinations for them. He could even stomach the idea of the public library needing a new coat of paint and an overhaul on its plumbing and electrics. He could not say that he gave two hoots about recyclable versus incineration rubbish and the problem of people disposing of recyclable waste with that destined for burning or vice versa; or that the little old ladies of Suna were already up in arms about the size of the fixed fine for doing so and were hardly likely to react well to the daimyo's fabulous new idea about charging for a more than fortnightly incineration collection in the first place. Maybe if the little old ladies brought out their geriatric kunai and shuriken and stormed the Kage Building to hold the council hostage until it agreed to bring back free weekly garbage pick-up, then he would care.
Temari beside him was doing a much better job of staying awake, if only because she was usually the one left making sure that their own household waste went out on time. As opposed to rotting on the kitchen floor, which is were Kankuro seemed to think it belonged. She was rigid in her seat, slightly sideways with one arm slung over the backrest and the other hand resting on her crossed knees, attempting to ignore the cat-eared hood slumped on its arms just behind her back.
Sibling Number Three, of course, looked spectacularly riveted by the whole affair. His big blue eyes wide and alert as he listened to every word from his perch on his folded hands, propping him upright as his attention fixed on every speaker as they outlined their arguments and debated details. No detail eluded him, no minor point got lost in endless waffle. He was, after all, Gaara; and if the duties of the Kazekage involved being engrossed in the complaints of elderly ladies on tight pensions, who couldn't see well enough to distinguish a yogurt pot from mouldy bread, but could damn well smell effectively enough to be disturbed if their neighbours brought out their rubbish on the wrong day, then engrossed is what Gaara would damn well be. As far as Kankuro was concerned, the geriatrics of Suna owed their Kazekage a medal.
Suddenly Gaara darted upright. Kankuro raised his head in surprise, squinting at his brother through bleary eyes. The current speaker, outlining the issue of a recurrence vermin under the new proposals, stuttered to a halt and stared at him. Fidgeting helplessly in his seat, the Kazekage patted vaguely at his robes as he winced and grimaced, flickering through expressions at the rate of someone going through some kind of strange torture.
"Is everything alright, Kazekage-sama?" Baki asked, as the attentions of the room became almost painful. Temari nudged Kankuro, making the latter wince and rub his upper arm. She gaped helplessly at her youngest brother, as her mind raced trying to figure out what was going on.
"What?" Gaara glanced up distractedly, still performing some kind of strange ritual in his seat, "Oh, oh… yes. Carry on." Temari's concerned eyes suddenly widened and her hands froze. She stiffened in her seat, a strange precognition daunting her as she watched her brother. Kankuro glanced at her in alarm.
"Are you sure?" Baki repeated, eyeing him warily as someone coughed impatiently from around the table. Suna's elders were starting to stir.
"Yes, yes, it's nothing. Ah, there we go." Gaara plunged a hand down the wrong end of the opposite sleeve, seizing something as it tried to get away. Gingerly he lifted out what seemed to be a small apricot and white coloured ball in the middle of his palm. Promptly said ball sat up and started cleaning its whiskers, then gazed around the room with interest. It's little pink nose twitching furiously. "Sorry," the Kazekage sighed, running a finger over the tiny spine, "He went to sleep in my pocket and I didn't want to wake him. You were saying?" He sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed back on the supposed orator, and held the small creature to his chest as it carefully tested the empty air surrounding Gaara's hand, looking for a way to get down.
Temari groaned softly, collapsing back into her chair. Her fears were confirmed. The expression on the visible half of Baki's face could have sunk ships. Kankuro decided he would altogether rather look at his hands.
"I… err…" the man, who ought to have been informing them all about why a weekly refuse collection was necessary to limit the rat population, stuttered even more. He didn't seem to be able to stop staring at his leader. "What is that?"
"He's just my hamster," Gaara explained, shifting slightly as the tiny creature hooked its tiny claws into the fabric of his robe and clambered up to his shoulder. It sat there nibbling on his hair for a few moments, before attempting to climb up it. "Don't mind him." The hamster slipped on a strand and scrabbled against the Kage's neck, making Gaara wince slightly as he said the last words.
Without noticing it, Temari shrank almost under the table. Her cheeks were visibly red and she attempted to shield her eyes with one of her hands. Kankuro chose to stare at the carpet behind his seat, fiddling with the collar behind his neck as he tried to look like an only child.
"I… I see," the man muttered in an obvious lie. He was still staring wide-eyed at the village's supposed head, watching as said head had his cranium circumnavigated by hamster.
"Does he have a name?" someone asked with just a hint of a snicker.
Gaara glanced around in surprise. "Oniwakamaru (1)," he replied evenly, as the hamster started nibbling on his fringe just above the kanji symbol. "My sister named him." The girl in question went yet more rigid; colour rapidly draining from her face. Kankuro shifted his chair slightly away from her.
"Really…" Baki's features might just have cracked cement, they were so stiff. He coughed and began an earnest diatribe on why current pest control measures were probably sufficient. After a while, people even started to listen to him.
As the conversation slowly restarted and approached something resembling normality, Kankaro leaned across to his sister, nudging her slightly in the ribs. He positioned his face near her ear, whispering in a low undertone as he carefully made sure no one else could hear him, "I vote next year we just get him a new Kage hat." She nodded wordlessly.
(1) Oniwakamaru is the childhood name (yômyô) of the famous Japanese warrior Benkei. I've seen its meaning given as 'dear young goblin', but basically 'oni' is like a demon, monster, goblin-type thing, 'waka' means the equivalent of 'young' and 'maru' is an ending for a male name, which originally meant 'dear' although the kanji has now changed a bit. I had a couple of readers insist that the hamster needed naming – and, although I did originally say they could pick, I found that while I was doing research for SWB and I just thought it was perfect.