A/N: Thanks for the reviews, follows, and faves!

Chapter Two: Shadow Room

Sliding open the door, Kankuro stepped into the Kazekage Mansion's foyer and yanked off his sandals. "I'm home!" he called, expecting Temari and Gaara both to have beaten him home that day. He and his team had been on a long range mission, after all.

To his surprise, no response came back.

For Gaara, that wasn't necessarily so strange. He could've been up in his room. Temari, however, usually retired to the couch after her missions and waited for Kankuro to cook dinner. But today, the murmur of the television didn't reach Kankuro's ears, and when he extended his senses, searching for his siblings' chakra signatures, he didn't get anything. What, really?

He stepped into the common room, glancing around and wondering why his siblings had been delayed. Gaara and his team had gone out to Dakanii Oasis, he thought, and Temari had been assigned on a team with Baki for a short mission to a nearby village. Both missions should have been trouble-free.

He didn't make it two steps into the room when his three cats burst from the direction of the staircase and trotted over to him, demanding attention. He smiled at them and knelt on the floor, doing his best to pet them all at once. "I'll pet ya, I'll pet ya!" he said as they butted into his legs and knocked each other out of the way. "Yeah, see? I'm petting ya."

The house was, ironically, far from empty. In fact, from Baki's point of view it was quite full. From the part of the room where Temari, Gaara, and he stood, however, Kankuro would never see them.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, Temari and he had come back from their mission and gone into the kitchen to cook something to hold them over until Kankuro got back. And in the instant that Baki was bringing a pot to the sink to fill it with water, asking Temari whether she preferred ramen or udon, he found himself instead in a dark, strange, removed space that was somehow connected to the house he'd just left. He watched the pot clatter to the floor with disbelief, wondering why he had suddenly become a disembodied spirit. Then Temari rushed forward, crossing the space where he'd been, and appeared beside him as well.

Two hours of humiliation and boredom later, Temari and Baki had the pleasure of watching the same fate befall Gaara as he went to pick up the pot on the floor. While Gaara had looked around wildly, Baki had simply smacked his forehead and then sat on the floor with a groan. He left Temari to explain the whole business, busy contemplating for himself the meaning of this: The council had betrayed them and engineered a trap in the Kazekage Mansion. Or someone on the council had, Baki had no doubt. It was too much of a coincidence. Councilman Unji makes a comment how we would all be better off without Yondaime's children, and now the mansion has been booby-trapped with some kind of jutsu that removes us from the world proper? He smirked. Hmm, I wonder. Those rumors about Unji being the secret head of ANBU are totally on target.

So when Kankuro had announced, 'I'm home,' in fact three people heard him and all cringed.

The extra-dimensional room was somehow everywhere and nowhere. Baki was able to walk beside Kankuro as Kankuro entered the foyer and yet not touch him, divided by some kind of odd light/darkness. It was hard to tell. The floor where Baki stood was black, and an odd red light radiated around the edges and above him without interfering with his ability to see the mansion.

Gaara and Temari watched from several feet away. Gaara was chewing his lip — a nervous habit he rarely employed and a sign of his sheer worry.

Baki repeatedly tried to touch Kankuro's shoulder while Kankuro petted the cats and came up against the invisible barrier. He punched it several times. No noise, nothing. Just the feeling of hitting something solid.

"He's going into the kitchen," Temari said, matter-of-fact. "That's where we all went."

"No," Gaara protested.

"He's gonna see the pot on the floor," Temari said.

"Stop it," Baki said absently.

Temari crossed her arms.

Kankuro switched back and forth between his brindle cat, Akako; his calico, Chika; and his solid white cat, Kouta. All three had collapsed on their sides around him, Kouta rolling over on his back so Kankuro would pet his stomach. "Okay," he told them fondly. "It's food time, yeah? Temari and Gaara should be back soon. Shoulda been here already, even." He stood and headed into the kitchen, then paused in the doorway as he saw the pot in the middle of the floor. "Okay . . ." That's totally weird. That wasn't here this morning. Did Temari come in and then leave? What would make her drop a pot and leave it?

Given the break-in the night before, he had a really bad feeling about what that might mean.

Baki raced to get in front of Kankuro, even though he'd found that this odd dimension would just place him above Kankuro's head if he tried to collide. Or to the side. Or behind him. Baki wasn't sure why that happened. "He knows something wrong." Don't pick it up. Leave it. Get help.

Gaara went wide-eyed and then shot Temari a glare. "Niisan won't do what we did. He'll be smart. He's not going to go near it. He'll sense something."

"Like what?" Temari grumbled.

"He has better sensing abilities than we do," Gaara insisted. "He'll have to sense something wrong and not step on that spot on the floor. He's smart."

Kankuro scanned the mansion one more time, double-checking for chakra, but felt nothing. Akako and Chika had joined him in the doorway, stopping by him. Kouta remained in the common room instead of racing into the kitchen and demanding food. "I don't like this," he told his cats, then walked over, picking up the pot and setting it in the dish drain. A shiver raced down his spine, and he turned around, glancing around the room. What the hell was that? He sharpened his chakra scan. His sensory abilities were significantly above average, although he'd received little training for them. All the sharpened scan did, though, was pinpoint the spirit of his maternal grandpa. His grandpa was standing to his right by the stove.

He glanced at him. "What was that?" He cleared his mind, trying to listen for an answer. He couldn't always get one. His thoughts had to be very still, and he couldn't be too tired.

"From . . . space . . . su," came the faint response.

Kankuro couldn't make any sense out of that. "Well . . . whatever." He headed upstairs, shivering again as he left the room. He wanted to change clothes and get the scrolls off his back.

Temari's jaw dropped. She watched Kankuro walk out of the room. "No way."

"Doesn't it work anymore?" Gaara's brow furrowed.

"Never mind that." Baki nearly vibrated with a combination of tension and hope. "Kankuro can find a way to get us out of here. He'll figure it out as long as he remains free. I know he will." He had faith in Kankuro. Unfortunately, he was also really worried about Kankuro's safety.

Gaara sat down and crossed his legs underneath him. He closed his eyes and rested his hands on his knees. There was a limit to how far they could go. He'd already tested the boundaries. They were apparently somewhere between the living room and the kitchen. They couldn't go upstairs. Gaara simply had to be patient.

Temari looked at Gaara suspiciously. "What're you doing?"

"I'll wait."

Temari rubbed the bridge of her nose and began pacing.

Ten minutes later, Kankuro returned downstairs after washing his face and donning a navy-blue yukata with a white bamboo pattern. He was becoming increasingly fond of wearing yukata around the house and had even begun to wonder if there were a way to use one as his shinobi uniform. Maybe if I cut slits up the sides and wear pants under it. He'd already retired his original bunraku uniform, replacing it with a plain pair of black pants and a long-sleeved shirt that he secured with a red belt.

He padded into the kitchen, considered the empty house plus the rumbling in his stomach, and summarily dismissed the idea of cooking. He'd wait until his siblings came home. He didn't cook for fun, usually. He liked making up new dishes and experimenting with spices simply because it appealed to his creativity; the cooking itself was a pain. So, with a sigh, he opened the cabinets one at time, scanning the contents. "No," he mumbled, taking in canned food, pasta, and protein bars. Retreating to the refrigerator, he tried again. As soon as his gaze landed on leftovers he wrinkled his nose. "Hell no."

With a sense of dissatisfaction, he grabbed a bagel, toasted it, and spread peanut butter on it. Then he retreated to the kitchen table, where he'd left a pad of paper the previous night, and dutifully began writing up his mission report. He wanted all his work out of the way so he could relax, and the report wouldn't write itself.

Temari stared, several feet away where the far side of the kitchen cabinets should be. "What's he doing?"

"Writing up his mission report," Baki said. He stood over Kankuro's shoulder, looking down at what Kankuro was writing.

"Why?" Temari asked.

Baki glanced up at her with a glare. "Because he has to."

"I know that," Temari retorted. "Why now?"

Gaara seemed disinterested in the conversation.

"It looks like he's working," Baki said mildly. He was well aware that Temari delayed her mission reports as long as possible. "He wants to get it out of the way." His lips twitched in a smile, purposefully rubbing it in.

Temari crossed her arms and turned away. She only managed it for a few moments before reluctantly padding over and looking down at Kankuro as well, standing on Kankuro's left side.
Finally, she said, "He's working. Without complaining or anything."

Gaara opened one eye. "What's strange about that? Niisan never complains."

"I just. . . " Temari shrugged, looking stricken. "He's all grown up."

Baki glanced at her, saw her face, and didn't comment. It's about time. Baki had noticed Kankuro had grown up quite some time ago and wondered why Temari hadn't.

Once he'd eaten his bagel and finished his report, Kankuro ripped off the top page and grabbed himself a glass of water. Then he retreated to the kotatsu table in the common room, where the previous evening he'd left the files on his team. He tossed down the report and opened the first file. Now that he was a chuunin — and was working hard to make jonin by his seventeenth birthday — he'd been assigned his own team. The Puppet Corps had petitioned the Council of Elders to assign Kankuro an all-puppeteer team, and they had agreed. To Kankuro's relief, they'd assigned him three fellow chuunin, all boys he was friends with. They didn't make a glamorous team; from an outsider's view they were a prankster, a recluse, and a geek led by a smartass. However, their strengths and weaknesses were well-balanced, and they functioned cohesively.

Kankuro pulled the top folder off the stack and set to work. His job was to note all recent growth and achievements, cataloguing everything the council could use should any of them apply for promotion.

When he opened the folder, he found the file for his best friend, Shiro, who he'd been hanging out with since they were nine years old.

"Here goes," he sighed. Akako hopped up on the kotatsu table and stretched out, providing him company. Chika curled up by his leg, adding herself to the lineup. Kouta hopped on the couch and watched from his perch.

Kankuro scanned the first page:

Name: Shiro
Age: 16
Rank: chuunin
Height: 5'4
Weight: 124 lbs
Puppets: 1, Aka Ari

Kankuro skipped to the section on mission performance and began jotting down notes.

Temari followed Kankuro as well, adding invisible company to the cats. "He's working so hard."

Baki glanced at her again. She's having a rude awakening.

Gaara didn't say anything.

Baki turned his attention to thinking about the logistics of being stuck in a place where no one could see them or hear them. Kankuro would discover they were missing tomorrow. Then Kankuro would figure something out, or the council would eventually succeed in starving the three of them to death.

Kankuro set aside the first file and moved to the second, opening it. Once again, his gaze fell on the first page, showing him the name of a quiet boy one year his senior:

Name: Daiki
Age: 17
Rank: chuunin
Height: 6'0
Weight: 145 lbs
Puppets: 2, Spider and Demon Onna

Once more, Kankuro blew past the first page and jotted down notes under mission performance. However, his concentration began to waver. Why aren't Temari and Gaara home yet? They should've beaten me back by hours. Plus the pot on the floor . . . Are they okay?

"Why is he pausing?" Temari asked.

Baki looked over at Kankuro. He stood in the hallway. "He's probably figuring out that we would be home by now."

"Then he'll — "

Baki hated to crush the hope he saw on her face, but he needed her to hold herself together in the long run. "He won't know we're not coming back until tomorrow."

"Why?" Temari protested.

"Missions go wrong," Gaara said without opening his eyes. "He'll assume we're delayed."

Temari fell silent, looking down at Kankuro with concern.

With a worried sigh, Kankuro set aside the folder and pulled out the last one, which by default had to belong to the boy widely believed to be a total geek. Kankuro opened the folder to the first page, staring at the contents almost blankly in his preoccupation:

Name: Kenji
Age: 15
Rank: chuunin
Height: 5'2
Weight: 165 lbs
Puppets: 1, Turtle

For a long moment, Kankuro didn't flip to the mission section. Instead he stared at the first page, his thoughts turning in circles. What if they were injured? And Baki! Baki was with Temari today. What if Baki were injured, too? The thought numbed Kankuro with cold fear. If I lost one of them . . . any of them . . . He didn't let himself consider losing all of them at once. "Pull it together!" he snapped at himself. Delayed missions were routine.

Except he had a bad feeling, there was the abandoned pot, and then there was the cold chakra on the bubble tea cup the night before.

He flipped to the mission section and jotted down notes quickly. As soon as I do this, I gotta come up with a plan. He chewed on his lip as he worked.

Temari had jumped at Kankuro's outburst.

Baki suddenly wished he could wrap his arms around Kankuro and hug him. He crossed his arms over his stomach.

Tears suddenly sprang to Temari's eyes. "I will," she said in a scratchy whisper. "I'll wait until you get us outta here."

"He can't hear you," Gaara said calmly, still sitting cross-legged on the far end of the dimensional room.

Temari turned on her heel and snapped at him, "Then I'll tell him when he gets us out!" She planted her hands on her hips. "I'll tell him he did a good job, and I'm proud of him."

"Good," Gaara said simply. "It's about time."

Temari slowly slumped and looked at the floor. Her reply was almost inaudible. "Yeah."

Setting aside the final folder, Kankuro stood, scattering Chika in the process. Akako sat up, and Kouta opened his eyes, rotating his ears forward.

"I don't like this," he told them. "Something's off. I gotta do something here."

The problem was what.

The easiest explanation was actually that Gaara's team was delayed in getting back from the oasis — it was further out that the small village Temari and Baki had visited — and Temari had come home already. Then, perhaps, one of her friends had stopped in with upsetting news. Given that the pot was on the floor, Kankuro had a bad feeling like one of Temari's friends might have been killed on a mission.

The easiest way to check his initial theory was to simply go to Baki's house and see if he were home.
Mind made up, Kankuro stalked into the foyer, slipped on a pair of geta, and left.

Temari ran after him and got the door slid shut in her face. "Where's he going?"

Baki sighed. "Probably to the council."

"I hope not," Gaara said quietly.

Temari slowly turned and looked at the both of them. "What do you mean?"

"This is another plot to kill me," Gaara said quietly.

Temari's eyes widened. Then she wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed tightly. "Come on, it's been two years since you were — "

"Exactly," Gaara said dryly, opening his eyes and gazing up at her. "Besides. I told the council yesterday I wanted to become Kazekage."

"You mean — " As Temari absorbed that and the implications of her current position, her eye twitched.

"They acted quickly." Gaara shut his eyes again.

Baki rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

Temari turned back towards the front door. "We're gonna be killed. He better know what he's doing."

"Kankuro always knows what he's doing," Baki said.

"Maybe he's going to your house," Gaara suggested.

"God, I hope so."

"But you're not there." Temari stared at her former teacher.

Baki raised an eyebrow.

Temari smacked her forehead. "Dumb. Right. Sorry." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "He'll see you're not there."

Baki nodded slowly.

Thirty minutes later, Kankuro returned, more disgruntled than before. Baki hadn't been home, which suggested their team was still out, and Kankuro didn't know their other two team members well enough to find them and verify. The only person Kankuro knew on Gaara's team was Miya, who was Shiro's girlfriend. He'd stopped by Shiro's house, hoping to ask him if his girlfriend were back home, but he found the entire family out. He'd even waited five minutes, pondering his choices, before leaving. Really, though, there wasn't much he could do. He had no idea where Miya lived, so he couldn't go verify that she wasn't home. And, honestly, to everyone else, Kankuro's actions would look hysterical.

Kankuro kicked off his geta with more force than necessary and retreated to the rocker-recliner. Nothing. There's nothing I can do until morning. It's after 8PM now, so there's no one at the Complex to question. The Council won't meet again until tomorrow morning. He sighed. You know everyone would say you're overreacting.

"I can hear Grandfather now," he complained to his other grandpa, who he had located during his habitual chakra scan of the mansion. "He'd say, 'If you worry about every little thing like this, you'll worry yourself into the grave. Suck it up. Your neesan can take care of herself.'" Except it wasn't just his sister now. "But fucking damnit!" He couldn't help himself. He paused, straining to hear his grandpa's answer.

" . . . sense . . . wrong."

Kankuro filled in the context for himself. "You're damn right I sense something wrong." He glanced up at his grandpa's spirit, which was hovering by the chair. "What if they're injured?" Kankuro couldn't hear his grandpa's reply; he was too upset now.

Kouta hopped into his lap, curling up and offering comfort to the human who'd saved him from the streets.

Temari had watched Kankuro storm in past her and then hesitantly followed him into the living room, though stood by the couch. She rested her hand against her chest, eyes wide. "He worries about me?" she whispered.

Baki glowered at her. "He worries about everybody. You and Gaara especially."

Temari flinched.

Gaara finally seemed to tire of sitting apart and walked over to Kankuro's chair, looking down at Kankuro pensively. "I wonder who he's talking to."

"He's talking to himself, probably." Temari looked away. "He always used to do that. He called it spirits." She snorted. "But come on. That was his little kid answer for 'don't make fun of me.'"

"Spirits, huh?" Baki murmured.

Temari glanced at him. "I wouldn't take it seriously."

"Why not?" Gaara asked. "Shukaku's a spirit."

"Shukaku's a monster, not a — " Temari stopped herself. She held up her hands. "Okay, you're right. I give up."

"We're in a position awfully similar to a spirit's right now," Baki pointed out. "We're invisible and can't interact."

Temari chewed on her lip. "Okay. Right. Sure . . ." She trailed off for a moment. "That's true."

Kankuro flipped on the television and surfed through the limited channels Suna had to offer, given television was a fairly recent invention. He got annoyed at every program he found and ended up blankly staring at a cooking show — the topic of the day was how to prepare maki sushi — before realizing he hadn't eaten enough for supper. His appetite was gone, though.

In the end, he fell asleep in the chair, the muted television providing the room with its only light as the sun set, with Kouta on his lap, Akako on the top of the chair back, and Chika asleep on his ankles from where he'd lifted the recliner's footrest. His dreams were fitful and plagued, filled with images of his siblings and Baki talking randomly around him.

Temari stared down at Kankuro's sleeping form. "He fell asleep without making himself supper or anything."

"He doesn't cook when we're not around," Gaara said flatly.

Temari looked at him.

"I told you that before." Gaara stared her down.

Temari threw up her hands. "He said he likes cooking!"

Gaara looked away, exasperated. "Well, he doesn't. He's just being nice. Because he's our brother."

Temari attempted to flop down on the sofa and bounced off onto the floor of their prison. "God, I can't even sleep on the couch tonight?"

"None of us can," Baki said. "We're not really here. We're in another dimension, remember?"

"Shit."

"Niisan's in the worse position," Gaara said quietly. "He's worried about us."

Baki sighed. I know. I wish there were something I could do. I'm the sensei. Not being able to help caused him a special sort of pain.

Just before midnight, Kankuro snapped awake, opening his eyes without moving. A random sound, perhaps a thump, had jerked him out of a dream in which Baki had been standing by his chair, worried about him.

For a moment, he didn't move.

Kouta hopped off his lap, crouching low on the floor and staring at the window to his left. Chika was gone. In his peripheral vision, Kankuro saw Akako slink under the couch.

A wave of goosebumps passed over his skin.

That sound was real. He threw out his chakra sensing ability, scanning the house.

Nothing.

He pushed the sensory 'bubble' beyond the mansion walls and felt an unfamiliar chakra just outside.

Someone is here.

Baki had turned around at the sound of the thump; he'd been pacing in the living room. He glanced at Kankuro and saw it had awakened Kankuro as well. "What was that?"

"Someone is here." Gaara's voice was flat. His eyes were icy with a mixture of concentration and anger.

Temari rubbed her eyes and got up off the floor. "What? What's going on?"

"Another intruder," Gaara growled. He clenched his fists. "In my mansion."

Temari let the ownership issue slide.

Baki could see her thinking, You're not Kazekage yet, though. Baki crossed the room to Kankuro in spite of the knowledge that he couldn't interfere in a fight.

Kankuro's first thought was that someone had arrived to deliver bad news, and it made his stomach quiver. However, he hadn't lifted his sensory bubble, and he read the chakra as cold. That kept him frozen, motionless — feigning sleep. An intruder? he wondered. The same one as last night?

Kouta, still crouched low, slinked across the floor on his belly and disappeared behind the couch.

The television broadcast was nothing more than a replay of the earlier cooking show. The credits were rolling, the changing pictures of food making shadows jump on the walls. With the volume muted, Kankuro was able to strain his hearing for the faintest sound. If this is a break in, I better get some weapons.

He could feel the chakra moving down the outside wall behind him toward the door. The person was definitely creeping. Kankuro stood, moving to the end table by the couch and silently pulling out the drawer. They always left kunai there.

On the television, a picture of the Suna symbol popped up as the village anthem was played. With the white background, it made the room flash bright.

Kankuro reached into the drawer and pulled out two kunai, then moved on silent feet to the wall by the foyer, listening for the door. The person would have to pick the lock.

What is this about? he wondered, nearly holding his breath. My siblings don't come home; someone is creeping up on my door in the night . . .

On the television screen, the Suna symbol vanished, the channel ceasing broadcast at exactly midnight. The image dissolved into black and white static, dropping the room into darkness.

Kankuro strained both his hearing and his sensing, but no further movement came.

After a minute, the chakra signature retreated. Kankuro remained where he was, distrustful.

Baki waited tensely by Kankuro in the darkness, chakra rippling through him in spite of himself. Good, Kankuro. Defend yourself. He was proud of his former students' preparation in keeping weapons handy.

Gaara looked angry. "Useless. We're so useless."

Baki's chest felt tight. I know. Don't remind me.

"Don't let them in, Niisan," Gaara suddenly ordered. "Don't let them hurt you."

Baki turned on his heel, surprised, and crossed over to Gaara. "It's all right. It's not your fault."

Gaara squeezed his eyes shut. "I could have — I should have —"

Baki hugged him. That shut Gaara up rather effectively. Baki held Gaara against his chest. It's all right. It has to be. Gaara allowed himself to be held, posing no struggle.

Temari watched them with an odd expression.

After an entire ten minutes of scanning, Kankuro ascertained that the person had either withdrawn out of his sensory range or left. I'm not safe. That certainty made him nearly wild with worry for Baki and his siblings. He had no evidence, no facts, no clues other than the pot and the bubble tea cup, but he was still sure he was in mortal danger. He kept the kunai with him, retreating to the hallway. In times like these, when he was overwhelmed with the sense of danger, there was only one course of action.

He walked up to the side of the staircase, a place where in any other Suna household there would be a cupboard. Instead there was an old mural of a samurai in red and grey armor. Kankuro bit his thumb, rubbing the blood over the samurai's red sleeve. "Summoning jutsu," he whispered. The wall transformed into a door, which slid open to reveal a passageway beyond.

Kankuro stepped into it, hitting a lever to close the door behind him. Once it did, a torch flamed into life in the stone passage below him, revealing the stone staircase that extended into the secret half of the basement. He headed down the stairs, the stones cold to his bare feet.

Temari followed Kankuro to the mural, watching with wide eyes. When the door disappeared, she stared at the mural blankly. "No way. . . "

"A secret passage," Gaara said quietly.

Temari slowly shook her head. "No way."

"Niisan knew about it," Gaara said.

Temari just started after Kankuro. "He's disappeared into the wall," she said to no one in particular.

"A secret passageway," Gaara said as though he thought Temari hadn't heard him.

This time, his sister didn't respond, clearly shocked by this sudden revelation.

Well, well, Baki thought. He appraised the samurai mural with new interest. Yondaime, you had a secret passageway in your house. How long has Kankuro known about this, I wonder?

Kankuro hurried down the passageway. Every six feet there was a torch; as soon as one lit, the one behind him grew dark again. When he'd been nine years old, his paternal grandmother — the daughter of Niidaime Kazekage — had shown him the maze hidden inside the mansion and had him sign the contract that would allow him to access it. She'd explained quietly, with the greatest amount of animation he'd ever seen from her, that only one member of the Kazekage's family was to know of the maze at any time. She hadn't explained why or how she'd become the possessor of such knowledge. She hadn't even explained why she'd chosen him; they had no relationship to speak of. She'd simply walked away.

By the following evening, she had died.

Over the years, Kankuro had been grateful for her single act of love or mercy toward him. Any time Gaara had gone on a rampage, any time Temari had refused to get off his case, any time his father and Gaara had been at odds, and any time his paternal grandfather had so much as set foot in the house, Kankuro had retreated into the passageways. Most of them were underground, although there was a ladder up to a small room on each level of the mansion, including the attic. He could access the passageway from any floor as a result, each level having a samurai mural in red and grey. There was even a passageway to a room with a teleportation circle. Kankuro had tried it once and ended up in a secret room in one of Suna's abandoned outposts.

But for this night, he headed to the large room tucked into a cellar dug one level deeper than the basement. The room contained a cot, a table, several oil lamps, a bookcase, and two large storage chests. Kankuro had discovered old diaries there, along with a shrine to some long-dead man. In the course of hiding, he'd read all the diaries and learned more about past Kazekages and his grandmother.

For tonight, though, he burrowed under the heap of blankets on the cot, leaving the kunai under the pillow, and waited for daybreak.

He needed to figure out who to talk to. Who to trust. Because he had a bad feeling that he wouldn't find his siblings home in the morning either. He had a bad feeling like someone wanted them all dead.

Oh, God . . . don't let them be dead already. Kankuro curled in on himself, terrified that the three of people he loved most in the world were gone.

When he fell asleep again, it was merely an accident brought on by sheer exhaustion.