Chapter Four: Truths and Spells
Kankuro shot to his feet, both shocked and afraid at finding a man with no chakra signature just standing in the middle of his house.
The man was dressed in a nondescript Suna shinobi uniform. He didn't react to Kankuro's shock with any kind of apology. Instead he tilted his head and said pleasantly, "Kankuro-sama. You seem distressed." He gestured to the chair Kankuro had been sitting in. "Calm yourself and have a seat."
The man's sudden appearance nearly gave Baki a heart attack as well. Temari and Gaara jumped to their feet and clustered by Baki.
"Like hell he will!" Baki snapped. Holy shit, if I didn't feel him here. What the hell?
Kankuro opted to remain standing. He searched his memory, trying to recall the man. He was about 5'10 and had light blue eyes. Average build, mid-thirties. There were a dozen men in Suna who looked much like him. Still, after a minute, Kankuro placed him. "Uh — Kuwabara." He was a jonin. "How the fuck did you get in my house, and why the hell are you masking your chakra?"
Like he needed to ask. He thanked Kami his puppets were on his back.
Kuwabara frowned with an expression of slight distress. "Such profanity." He looked at Kankuro's face for a moment. "And from such a beautiful mouth." He pouted.
Baki felt sick.
"What the hell?" Temari blurted.
Baki clenched his fists at his sides. He was filled with equal parts rage and fear at being impotent in this situation. "Kankuro should run."
Gaara breathed in sharply. "Run?"
Baki trembled, unable to help himself. "Kuwabara has almost been drummed out of the service seven times for. . . certain things."
"Certain what?" Temari growled.
Baki didn't answer.
Every red flag, wailing siren, and glowing sign possible triggered in Kankuro's mind. Oh, God. He recognized the type immediately. I should've never let Shiro go. I wasn't safe here after all. He had planned to go into the maze again, but now he'd never get there. I have to get out of here. The need to be outside in the open was overwhelming. He was trapped in the house, and that made his entire body cold. There wasn't a door to the outside in the kitchen. He'd have to go through Kuwabara to escape.
Kankuro would blow up the entire house if that was what it took.
"This is unnecessary." Kankuro kept his voice calm; it was the best performance of his life. He had to buy enough time to generate a strategy.
Kuwabara furrowed his brow. "Afraid not, Lovely. It's very necessary." He gestured to the floor. "Your little friends discovered our handiwork. You failed to fall prey to it." He shook his head. "The plan is all unraveling now. I'll handle it my way and report back." He shrugged. "You see, that's how life is."
Baki took a step forward. "Oh, God. No." He was behind Kankuro, he was right here, but he couldn't do anything. He was barely holding himself back from a panic attack.
Gaara grabbed his arm. "What are you going to do?"
"Dammit!" Baki squeezed his eyes shut for a moment so he didn't punch Gaara in the face. Or try to. "Sometimes I hate your logic."
"Sorry."
"What does this guy think he's gonna do?" Temari asked incredulously.
Baki didn't answer.
Kankuro read right into those words, and he read more than death in them. If it went down the way Kuwabara wanted, then death was the least of Kankuro's concerns.
If it went down the way Kuwabara intended, death would be welcome.
Scrambling for a plan, Kankuro fought desperately to clear his mind and think, but he couldn't. He'd faced people like this before. And there was no way in hell he was going to lose to this one. He instantly pulled two scrolls off his back, summoning Karasu and Kuro Ari. He didn't have a lot of space to work with, so he couldn't summon Sanshouo. "Fine. Let's do this!"
Kuwabara laughed and held up his hands. "Whoa! Darling, there's no need to get serious. Just give up without a fight, and I'll be gentle."
Gaara had to drag Baki backwards.
"You fucking liar!" Baki yelled.
"What is going on here?" Temari exclaimed in frustration. "They're gonna fight to the death right here in the kitchen?"
Neither Gaara nor Baki had time for Temari's denial.
"There ain't no gentle to it," Kankuro snapped. He couldn't launch a gas bomb without killing himself, so he was going to have to do it all with blades. "I know your type. So let's be clear: there's only one way to end this — your death or mine. And trust me when I say it'll be yours."
It wasn't an idle boast. Although he was still a chuunin, Kankuro was already as strong as the average Suna jonin. All he lacked was the leadership experience. Not the strength.
Karasu popped his arm open and shot out a barrage of kunai.
As soon as Kankuro started the attack, Baki, Temari, and Gaara, due to the intricacies of the dimensional prison, found themselves witnessing everything from above Kankuro's head, the floor of their prison suddenly above the kitchen table.
Kuwabara's form flickered at the speed with which he dodged the kunai. Then he leapt above Kankuro, taking advantage of the unusually high ceilings in the mansion, and surrounded himself with seven shadow clones, camouflaging his real body. "Such harsh words," one of them said.
Then they spread out. Five of them started making signs at the same time. The other three charged Kankuro.
Kankuro immediately separated Karasu's limbs and head, extending their built-in blades. The head opened its mouth and sprayed down the entire room with senbon as Kankuro pulled the limbs into position and shot all six of them outward, aiming at each of the clones. He sent the head after the one he thought was the real Kuwabara. At the same time, he moved Kuro Ari in front of him, using him as a type of shield while he tried to figure out what jutsu Kuwabara was attempting.
In the back of his mind, he had a single thought: I hope Kami loves me.
He had no idea why God would love him, but he'd prayed a prayer when he was ten. And eleven. And twelve. He'd prayed it repeatedly, every time his grandfather returned for sabbatical from his diplomatic assignment in Wind's capitol: Please, Kami, don't let me get raped. I'd rather die first.
The three clones that charged hastily dodged. One of them dodged directly into the path of another attack and popped into smoke. The other two narrowly escaped, only to be chased by Karasu's limbs.
"Hey! You know you don't have to be so hasty," they said in unison. The small fighting area hampered Kuwabara as much as it did Kankuro.
Two of Kuwabara's clones dodged an attack at the same time in the same direction over the kitchen sink — exactly Kankuro's aim. They smashed into each other and into the kitchen cabinets. "You stupid bastard!" one swore at the other. Then Karasu's blades caught up with them and popped them into smoke.
Three of them managed to get their jutsu off, dodging Karasu's initial attack. One turned see-through and then invisible. Another conjured three spinning wheels that circled him and helped him fend off attacks. They were like floating shields.
One Kuwabara was busy dodging Karasu's head, looking completely nonplussed by the experience. Karasu's head threatened to back him into the pantry area on the far side of the kitchen.
The final Kuwabara sent off a fireball in Kankuro's direction.
Oh, God! Kankuro hurled himself over the kitchen table. Since he'd already teleported Kuro Ari into the pantry to trap one of the Kuwabaras, he didn't have to worry about his puppet. He grabbed the table with chakra strings as he went, toppling it over and using it as a shield against the fireball.
The ball exploded in the corner of the room, blowing the window out, scorching the wall, and leaving the entire corner of the room on fire.
"Kankuro!" Temari screamed. She fell to her hands and knees on the floor of the dimensional prison, tearing at it even though there was nothing she could do.
The table saved Kankuro from the backlash and also put him in the doorway to the living room. He gathered himself instantly, using Karasu's head to drive one Kuwabara back into Kuro Ari and trap him. He drove the head down into the puppet, and he heard the popping of the clone. He jerked the head back to him, grabbed three knives out of the holder on the counter, and hopped back into the living room, wielding one blade or limb-blade per finger. He punched three blades at the Kuwabara with the spinning blades, trying to come in low. He swirled the other blades around him, attacking other clones and randomly thrusting into the open air to try to keep the invisible clone away from him.
I'd rather die, he prayed. Please.
Meanwhile, the Kuwabara with the spinning wheels directed them to the best of his ability, rotating them quickly to deflect Kankuro's blades. He was sweating. "Y'know — " More attacks kept him from speaking.
Another clone turned aside Kankuro's attacks with kunai, only to be manipulated into falling over the TV. He was finished.
Kankuro had narrowed it down to one clone and the original. He really felt that the invisible one was the real Kuwabara, and the remaining one with the blade-shields was the clone. He turned Karasu's head, opening his mouth and spraying dozens of senbon at the visible one with the blades. Simultaneously, he drove one limb-blade at Kuwabara's head and another at his feet. At the same time, he kept four other limbs and the three knives around his body, stabbing outward at various heights and angles to try to keep the original off of him.
Kuwabara looked at his situation with resignation the moment before blades stabbed through his body. "Aw, crap." He poofed into smoke, his shields doing the same.
Kankuro heard a voice somewhere behind him. "Sweetheart. Darling. Lovely. You make it so hard to get close to you."
Kankuro didn't change his attack pattern. The voice could be thrown or faked, so he turned himself slowly, keeping the ten blades up all around him and constantly moving. The problem with the puppet jutsu was that it was weak on defense, unless one had a defensive puppet, and it was weak with close range attacks like taijutsu. In a small space and without Sanshouo, Kankuro's only option was to keep Kuwabara back.
However, if he could just scratch him with one of Karasu's blades, Kuwabara would be poisoned.
Given what he understood Kuwabara's intentions to be, gassing them both to death was even an option.
Now Kuwabara's voice came from Kankuro's left, from the corner of the room. "It's like you don't like me or something. Say it's not true."
Baki was beside himself. His legs trembled too much to keep him upright. He finally sank to his knees. Throughout the entire battle, he'd been silent, praying for Kankuro to win, praying for Kuwabara's bloody death. Now they were so close, and Kuwabara was toying with Kankuro. "Just shut up and die!" Baki yelled.
"I don't even know you," Kankuro said, then otherwise ignored the comment. Karasu's head was out of senbon; he had to come up with another solution. He was too far away from Kuro Ari to reach him now, and the fire was spreading in the kitchen. Fortunately, part of the smoke was going out the busted window, and the rest was rising to the top of the twenty-foot ceilings. Still, smoke inhalation would become a problem soon.
Kankuro diverted one blade to the closest window, busting out the glass. Then he moved himself closer to the staircase, a plan finally beginning to form. If he could get up the stairs fast enough, he could escape into the passage from the second floor and teleport himself all the way out to the outpost.
Kuwabara's voice came from the stairs. "Aw, Darling, where you goin'? You could get to know me. Don't get so standoffish. You're not gonna be a virgin forever. Face it. It's me or no one else. You're gonna die in here."
He's bouncing all around me somehow. Kankuro only turned halfway toward the voice, assuming he'd move again soon. "It doesn't count if it's rape, Dipshit."
Suddenly, Kankuro realized that he should've teleported out of the mansion in the first moment. Teleportation took line of sight if you didn't know where you were going and a clear mental image if you did. Kankuro had neither at the beginning of the fight; he'd been too scrambled. But the threat of teleporting himself into the parameter wall was minor compared to what was happening now.
He checked his chakra, willing to attempt teleportation even now, but he realized he didn't have enough left. He was running out because he hadn't eaten much and wasn't even done digesting his yakisoba. Fortunately, the chakra strings required little chakra.
Think! he ordered himself. He'd lived in the mansion all his life; he needed to use his terrain to his advantage.
Kuwabara laughed. "Rape? Then cooperate. I'll be nice. I'll do anything you want. How about a nice threesome? Me, me, and you. I'm good at this shadow clone stuff. I've done it before."
He said something about me being a virgin, Kankuro realized. Taking the bet that Kuwabara might be fixated on that part, Kankuro took action. "You know what? You're too late for your little party. I'm used goods."
"What?" Kuwabara blurted.
"What?" Temari echoed.
"Hnn," Gaara said.
Baki felt oddly as though he'd entered another reality, not just another dimension. He was suddenly embarrassed to be Kankuro's unwitting audience.
Kankuro grinned, finding sudden balance in the face of Kuwabara's surprise. "That's right, Sweetcakes." It wasn't a pet name he'd used on anyone, ever. He smirked. "I've been with a guy just like you before." Except a lot older. "Multiple times. I lost count. I've been there, done that, and gotten bored with it." Bored wasn't exactly the right word. More like preferring to die than face any of it again.
He changed attack strategies, sinking into the poetic, graceful flow that the puppet jutsu could be and driving four of the blades at the staircase. Hurling them, really, snapping them through the air so quickly they cut the air with a faint pop. He kept the other six around him in defense. I'll cut him into shreds no matter what it takes.
"You little beast." Kuwabara's voice, coming now from around the broken TV, sounded miffed. He worked his way up to outrage. "How could you mislead me like that? Going on about rape, acting so innocent and unspoiled. And now this!" His voice changed location, circling around to the left. "Well, fuck it. Screw it. I said it. I don't have to restrain myself for your 'delicate' ears."
Kankuro whirled around, his temper snapping. "Yeah, don't bother, you motherfucking piece of shit!" He dropped a few blades at his feet, grabbing the furniture and mobilizing the entire room in his defense. The kotatsu table flew. The lamp. The chair. And between them, blades. "And you know what? I killed that fucker, too! I poisoned his ass! And no one ever caught me, either!" Truth. He had poisoned his grandfather to save himself — and Gaara, who his grandfather had been getting more interested in. "So go to hell and join him!"
The entire room seemed to come alive with chakra strings and flying objects.
"Fine!" Kuwabara screamed. He materialized, ducked a lamp and shot around a sofa, intent on charging Kankuro. A lethal collection of cutting, slicing blades flew at him. He dodged the first two and then abruptly leapt back. "You can't —" His look of infuriated contempt changed as soon as he registered the cut on his cheek. Kuwabara blinked and touched the cut, getting blood on his fingertips.
He dodged the kotatsu table and had to catch himself on the wall to keep from falling over. His eyes widened. "That's pretty —" His legs buckled. Kuwabara crumbled gracelessly to the floor with a thud. " — powerful . . . poison." He licked his lips and fell still. His eyes alone moved, locking on Kankuro.
Kankuro sneered at him. "You deserved a death much worse." But he didn't have time to deliver it. "Die!" He drove all ten blades into Kuwabara's torso, punching him full of holes and pinning him to the floor.
Kuwabara's body spasmed with the impact of the blades, but he didn't cry out. His eyes glazed over.
Kankuro felt Kuwabara's chakra snuff out as well. He turned and ran to the hall closet, pulling the fire extinguisher out. He raced into the kitchen, finding the fire working its way across the ceiling and walls. The corner of the cabinets was on fire as well. He sprayed out the entire contents of the extinguisher, battling the flames with the white foam, desperate to keep the flames from reaching
the tatami mats with the symbol on them. He had no idea what the destruction of the symbol might do to his missing family. Not to mention that Kuro Ari was also back in the pantry, although that was a lesser concern.
Task done, he stumbled to the front door, sliding it open and letting in fresh air. He collapsed to his hands and knees, coughing and sobbing. Tears from heat and smoke mixed with tears of delayed horror.
Baki found himself standing in the foyer instead of hovering above Kankuro's head. The fighting must have shoved this dimension around.
He was relieved that Kankuro's safety was restored, proud of Kankuro for fighting . . . But all he wanted was to be able to take him away from this place. He dropped to his knees behind Kankuro, unable to touch him.
Temari hung back in the area of the ruined kitchen, but he hardly noticed.
Gaara looked around at the house with wide eyes.
Kankuro gasped sharply, then crawled out to the deck, leaning over it and vomiting up his lunch. He'd moved around too much, gotten too hot, too upset. He hung off the side, pulling in clean air. He felt dizzy, weak and lightheaded, although he had no idea what was responsible: the threat of rape, the lack of food, or the smoke inhalation. All of the above, he guessed.
"Oh, God," he moaned, collapsing. He couldn't do this. He had to move. Get those tatami mats, shove them down the stairs into the maze, and then follow himself. He wasn't safe out in the open.
In his anguish, his desperate need for his family exploded out of him. "Baki . . . Gaara . . . Temari . . ." Shiro. 'Kaasan.' Daiki. Kenji. Someone!
"Kankuro," Baki burst out, unheard.
Kenji appeared in the distance, followed by two others — Daiki's familiar, gangly form, and another person who looked strange. The second person had a lot of long, wild hair with a form obscured in copious amounts of fabric.
Kenji ran down the street and burst up the steps to him, scrambling. He immediately dropped to his knees by Kankuro and gripped Kankuro's arms. "Sempai! What happened?"
Daiki and the strange person weren't far behind, though they didn't run with quite the same urgency.
Kankuro glanced up at Kenji, tears still standing in his eyes. He was covered in blood, bruises, and black smudges. "Attacked. They attacked me to take me out. Nearly burnt the house down with a fireball." He glanced past Kenji, seeing Daiki and Sakuya. Creepy Old Lady? Really?
Before they reached the deck, Shiro teleported in along with his mother and his girlfriend, Miya.
"Crow!" Shiro yelled, hurdling up onto the deck and kneeling by him, rubbing his back. "Oh my God! What happened!"
"He got attacked as soon as we left!" Kenji burst out. He threw his arms around Kankuro's neck and hung on.
"What?" Shiro's yell bounced off the stone of the parameter wall.
Shiro's mom, who was named Sumiko, ran up onto the deck as well, kneeling by Kankuro's other side and pressing her hand to his back. "Oh, God . . . Ro."
Kankuro reached up weakly and patted Kenji's back.
"He's hurt! And we have to do something, Mrs.-Shiro's-Mom!" Kenji blurted. "His house is ruined!"
Daiki joined Kenji, looking down at his friend calmly. "Not quite."
"But it's busted up, and it's our fault," Kenji reasoned.
Daiki let out a sigh and took Kenji's arm, gently pulling him off of Kankuro. "Let Sumiko-san look at Crow."
"Right." Kenji was pale.
Sumiko turned Kankuro over onto his back with Shiro's help. Miya took Shiro's place, and the two women checked him over.
"I only know first aid," Miya murmured, pulling out a small can of salve and covering the worst gashes.
"Me, too," Sumiko said. She checked him over, then ran her fingers through Kankuro's hair in a comforting gesture. "Your chakra is weak, but not dangerously so. If you eat, you should stabilize. We need to get you to the hospital, though. You need some oxygen is my guess."
Shiro shook his head. "We're not sure that even the hospital is safe." He leaned over so he could meet Kankuro's gaze. "There were three teams of four in the area. We led them away."
"I was too far away to sense the battle," Sumiko said quietly. "I'm sorry."
Kankuro didn't bother to reply. He was incredibly glad she was there, but as he gazed up at her dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, he realized he needed to see someone else even more.
Baki was bewildered, but glad, to see all the help arrive. Still, the help didn't guarantee things were over. Temari and Gaara joined him in front of the door. They couldn't go outside, but they could look.
"I'm sorry," Kenji spoke up. "I'm sorry, too. I should have brought Creepy Old Lady over here instead of asking for explanations."
Daiki smiled wryly.
Sakuya climbed onto the deck, making her appearance in the group. "Oh? Indeed, Kenji-san?"
Kenji had the grace to look embarrassed at his slip.
"Sakuya-sama," Daiki said.
Sakuya inclined her head. She was horribly ravaged by age, but somehow still dignified.
"I can get your family back," she said to Kankuro. "With a little help." She smiled slightly, which didn't actually make her look less terrifying. Only the kindness in her eyes kept the words from being menacing. "I see we have plenty. Don't we? Many people care about you."
Kankuro gazed up at the elderly woman with her bushy grey hair and wide eyes. "Please . . ." he whispered. His voice was hoarse from the smoke inhalation and vomiting.
"Of course, Kankuro-san." Her eyes filled with compassion for him. "All I need are the mats with the jutsu preserved on them and five helpers. We shall have Temari-san, Gaara-san, and Baki-san back in no time." She gestured with one withered hand. "You see, they are here."
Baki gave a start. The old woman looked right through them.
Sakuya smiled. "They have been removed by one dimension and placed in a prison called a Shadow Room. I have no doubt they are fine. The worst trouble of a Shadow Room is that the people inside cannot get out themselves. It is merely a holding place."
Kankuro accepted the explanation easily and without any thought. He was tired and ill. "Kenji . . . Shiro . . . please get the mats," he whispered. He couldn't stand if he tried.
"Sure!" Shiro raced into the mansion. Kenji ran after him.
Baki, Temari, and Gaara briefly found themselves displaced towards the ceiling again. "I hate that," Baki commented. But it'll be over soon enough.
Sakuya nodded over the mats after Shiro and Kenji brought them out to the deck. "Just as I suspected. A sealed Shadow Room jutsu. Very rare, you know." She looked at the group. "All right. Which five of you want to help me?"
Shiro immediately stepped forward. "I will!"
Sumiko stood. "I will, as well."
Standing along with Sumiko, Miya joined Shiro. "I will, too. I don't think Kankuro-kun is any shape to do this."
Kenji nodded, and Daiki stepped forward.
"Of course I will!" Kenji said. He narrowed his eyes at Sakuya, with whom he had a long-standing gripe: she had assigned him pink face paint when he was initiated into the Puppet Corps. "As far as I'm concerned, there's only five of us to begin with."
Sakuya's smile widened. "I knew you would help Kankuro-san."
Kenji looked away. "Oh, whatever. Get his family out already."
Sakuya actually chuckled at that. She helped position them and demonstrated the hand signals she needed from them.
Sakuya stood in the center of the symbol. She bit her thumb, smeared blood on the symbol, crouched, and placed her palm on the mat. She said the first word of the chant and held up one finger. Everyone took the cue and made the first sign with their hands. She held up two fingers at the same time as continuing the chant. They got the idea. After two more parts of the chant and two more hand signals, Sakuya said, "Kai!" She straightened. The symbol flared around her and blinked out of existence.
Everyone turned at the clattering thud of bodies hitting the floor.
Inside the kitchen, Baki, Temari, and Gaara found themselves piled on top of each other.
Kankuro felt three familiar chakras pop back into existence. He struggled into a sitting position, but even with his desperation and the adrenaline surge it gave him, he couldn't get to his feet. "Ototo! Neesan! Baki!" His voice was horribly hoarse and scratchy.
They untangled themselves as quickly as possible.
Baki got his feet under him first and shot out. "Kankuro!" He barreled down the hallway, his heart giving a desperate jump at the sight of Kankuro and everyone else on the deck. He reached out and touched Kankuro's back as soon as he could, dropping to his knees beside him. Baki wrapped his arms around Kankuro before his body ran out of momentum, jerking Kankuro to him. It was clumsy, but Baki didn't care.
Gaara ran out next, with Temari right on his heels.
"Kankuro!" Temari exclaimed, dropping to her knees on his other side.
Gaara crouched at Kankuro's feet, looking down at his brother with wide eyes.
Temari flung her arms around Kankuro, her arms overlapping Baki's bigger ones.
Kankuro thought he must be dreaming. Baki had never hugged him before, and while Temari had sporadically hugged him throughout their lives, she'd never been so expressive about it.
Kankuro felt tears stinging in his eyes and was too relieved, exhausted, and overwhelmed to hate himself for it. "Guys," he whispered. "So glad you're safe."
They all talked at once.
Baki started out with, "We're the ones who're glad you're safe, Kankuro! I —"
And was interrupted by Temari bursting out, "Oh my God, I'm so glad you're safe that was horrible I didn't wish in a million years —"
Which ran into Gaara saying with an unusual burst of emotion, " — was worried, Niisan."
Kenji nudged Daiki's arm and smiled. He backed off to the far side of the deck with his friend, trying to give Kankuro's family room.
Sumiko and Shiro traded relieved smiles and retreated as well, Miya following them. In whispered voices, they began discussing with Kenji and Daiki what to do to help out with the damaged house and ruined kitchen.
Kankuro soaked up the show of care. "Thanks, guys, but really I'm just glad you're all safe." He had to be clear about it. "I was scared you were dead."
Temari shook her head. "I was scared you'd be dead by the time we got out of here. There, whatever. I was so scared. I never told you anything. I never said how proud I was of you or how awesome you grew up or how amazing you handle things or how brave you are or how proud I am to be your sister or anything like that! I just kept it all inside where it doesn't do any good. I'm getting it out now so you don't have to fill it in yourself and guess about me."
Kankuro began to get suspicious. Had they been able to see what was happening?
"Niisan . . . you're precious to me," Gaara added quietly, completely distracting Kankuro from his train of thought.
Kankuro smiled. "You, too, man." Now he was the one in the alternate dimension. He'd never even dreamed — daydreamed or in his sleep — that Temari, Gaara, and Baki would say such things to him. They were three of the most emotionally reserved or uncommunicative people he'd ever met. And he always held back, too — not because he wanted to or because his father had encouraged such behavior but because he thought his attempts to speak to them in such a way would be rebuffed.
I must have died in there, he thought, losing his grip on reality. Kami answered my prayer or something. He reached up and squeezed Temari's arm. "Thanks, Neesan. I'm glad to finally hear your real thoughts, too." It was an overwhelming understatement.
Temari smiled at him in return.
"Ah, God . . . " Baki inhaled deeply, steeling himself. "After this, I can't ignore the danger anymore. I'm going to burden you guys with a house guest for the next few weeks."
Gaara breathed in sharply and looked at Baki with amazement.
"Yes!" Temari exclaimed. "God, Baki, it's no burden." She was hoarse, mostly due to the amount of screaming she'd done in the heat of Kankuro's battle with Kuwabara.
"Yeah," Kankuro whispered. The afterlife was getting better and better. "It's no problem."
"Then I'll start tonight," Baki murmured.
This strange dream Kankuro was having, this dream of an afterlife, was quickly taking shape: a sister he could actually confide in; a brother who considered him just as precious as he did him; and then Baki, who seemed to be more and more invested in them . . .
His exhaustion stole the shape from him, making his eyes heavy. "Good," he whispered.
"Let's take you to your room, where you can be safe and lie down," Baki said. "Your room hasn't been spoiled by the fighting, and we'll open some windows to air out the place if there's any smoke."
"Yeah," Gaara said. "Good idea. Niisan should be in his room, resting."
"Yeah," Kankuro whispered. His family was safe; he could sleep now.
Granted it didn't address who had been responsible for all this in the first place, but Sakuya wasn't without power and resources. If she worked with Baki, they would be able to figure it out. If.
"Thank you, Sakuya-sama," he said without turning his head to look at her. "You saved my family."
"You're welcome." Without her appearance to get in the way, her voice was obviously tender. "Chiyo-sama and Ebizo-sama helped as well. Honestly, I would not have come here if I had not the assurance that my dear friends were next door, dealing with the source of your problems. They did it as a favor to me; no thanks is necessary from you. Please do not trouble yourself to be worried for disturbing their retirement. They quite enjoyed it, I think."
Gaara looked at Sakuya blankly. "Enjoyed?"
"It's not every day one gets to settle an old score. Especially against a man like Unji." Sakuya smiled mischievously. She bowed and then retreated down the steps of the deck. "I shall see how they are getting along. Please have a pleasant day with what is left of it."
Kankuro had no idea what to make of that news, and he was too tired to try to reason it out.
Baki helped him up to his room, his siblings following and hovering over him until they were sure he was comfortable.
Gaara stayed to guard Kankuro while he slept, and the others headed off to deal with the details, such as the corpse in the living room. Kankuro could have gone to sleep utterly peacefully if not for the nagging sensation that Baki and his siblings had overheard what he'd said.
If they had, how could he explain?