Chapter 9

Kankuro woke to the sound of his father whimpering. He was disoriented, warm, comfortable. Concern broke through and cleared his head. "Dad…it's okay." He hesitated. He wished he knew what his father's name was before his father became Yondaime. A personal name would soothe his father better than just being called 'Dad'. That was so impersonal somehow. Compared to the kind of bond he wanted with his father, it was.

That brought him a whole new realization: his father wasn't just a father to him. His father was a person. A person Kankuro very much wanted to cherish.

His father let out a hushed moan and fell back asleep, turning over on his side.

Kankuro sighed. He didn't know if he could go back to sleep. He contented himself with stroking his father's shoulder, which his father didn't seem to mind. It certainly didn't want his father up.

Somehow, the soothing motion of trying to comfort his father made Kankuro drop back into slumber.

xXx

In the morning, when the sun streamed through his father's window, Kankuro woke up to the sight of his father's back. He was on his side, and his father sat on the edge of the bed.

At the feeling of Kankuro shifting, Yondaime looked over his shoulder at his son. "Nights are the worst." He smiled ruefully. "Thank you."

Kankuro sat up, running his fingers through his hair. "No problem."

Yondaime nodded. "I appreciate it. And I appreciate your discretion. I can't imagine how Gaara and Temari would react to me…"

…Would react to you being a nervous wreck? I don't know. Maybe they'd be a little gentler with you, Kankuro thought. But he wouldn't say that. He knew his father was entitled to dignity and respect, and that his father feared losing respect.

"Someday," Kankuro said softly, "you need to tell everyone about your dad. How awful he was."

Yondaime froze. Then he stood carefully and turned to face Kankuro, expressionless. "I believe that subject is not fit for 6:30 in the morning, before any of us have had any breakfast."

Kankuro sighed, feeling shut out, but he nodded. I understand. You hate it. You don't wanna talk about Grandfather or the things that happened. But you have to. At some point…you have to. It's necessary for healing. No one ever got better by keeping everything inside.

They went their separate ways to get ready for work. Kankuro took a quick shower and got dressed, then went downstairs.

At breakfast, everything on the surface was as normal as it had ever been. Temari silently ate her breakfast. Gaara sulked and picked at it. Kankuro ate his with a rumbling stomach, pacing himself carefully. Yondaime ate with the same grace and poise as ever, pausing often as some new thought occurred to him. Kankuro could tell by the expression on their father's face that he was already working on the village's problems even though he hadn't gotten to the office yet.

Once they were all done eating, they trailed across the Complex to Yondaime's office. Baki picked them up from there for their mission.

"Today, I would like you to take my children on patrol," Yondaime said, handing over the mission scroll to Baki. "North side. Please go beyond the canyons to Suna's border, and survey for four hours before coming back to the village."

Baki bowed. "Yes, Yondaime."

A nice, boring mission, Kankuro thought resignedly. Last month, he and his siblings had almost been killed on an S-Class mission. Ever since then, their father had them on light duty. Not that his father would ever admit it. That would patronize Temari, anger Gaara, and…well…Kankuro wasn't sure how their father thought he would react. With anger, maybe? A temper tantrum?

Kankuro, due to Gaara, had a bad habit of holding in his anger over something until he exploded. Usually, it was something random that set him off. Like being bumped into on the street, or being interrupted when he was practicing his drawing skills. Because of that, he'd gained a reputation for being 'touchy' and 'a punk'. He didn't bother to correct anybody. The tougher and meaner you seemed in Suna, the better.

He and the rest of his team headed out for the border.

xXx

The desert was quiet. Most of the animals came out after dark, so the sand dunes were barren. Far off in the distance, hawks circled in the sky, signaling that some animal had died. Or was about to. The red canyons that protected their home stood behind them, impassively watching. Out before them, the dunes went so far that they became blue smudges in the distance, smearing against the horizon. The sky was light, bright blue, clear and motionless. The only clouds were fragile little things far up in the atmosphere. It was a good day.

On a bad day, the winds would be howling, and no one would be allowed on patrol for fear of being buried or sand-blasted into an ivory skeleton. The winds got that fierce. Clean the meat off your bones fierce. That was why Suna had been build in the center of the sheltering cliffs. Otherwise, no life would be possible on this side of the desert.

After they finished their patrol in terms of covering the perimeter from one end to the other, they retreated to the shadows of the cliffs' rocky foothills to stay out of the blaring sun. Baki chose a vantage point where they could keep an eye on the border.

"Everyone hunker down," Baki said. He added in a mutter, "We're gonna be here a while."

Four hours, to be exact, Kankuro thought. But he didn't say it. He tried not to be flippant or purposefully grating to Baki.

He had a good relationship with his new team leader, even though Baki had only been his sensei for a couple months. They connected on a visceral level. It was like, in a weird way, they'd always been friends. Kankuro never had that experience. He always had to work very hard to connect with others. So Baki was someone special to him already.

Kankuro remembered suddenly that his father mentioned leading Baki's team at one point in Baki's childhood. Hey, yeah…if Dad won't talk to me, then I'll talk to Baki.

He glanced around. Gaara was already farther up in the foothills, finding his own rocky alcove to hang out at. He sat with his gourd in the shade, peering out at the desert expressionlessly.

Temari had found a comfortable spot a few yards away, and sat with her fan open to deflect some of the heat.

Kankuro stayed sitting by Baki's side. Their sensei sat comfortably cross-legged, not seeming to mind the rough stone they sat on at all.

"So, Baki…is it okay if I talk?" Kankuro asked.

Baki glanced at him with surprise. "Of course. As long as you keep alert to our surroundings, Kankuro."

"I will," Kankuro promised. He made sure to face out towards the desert. "Father says he led your team once."

Baki smiled. "It's true. Yondaime did lead my team. For three years. Your father's team was not my first one; but I cherished it greatly. The chance to work with your father was immensely satisfying. He is a talented man, and loyal."

Kankuro nodded. "I didn't think he would ever leave anyone behind."

"He wouldn't," Baki assured him.

Kankuro knew there was a lot of conflict about whether the mission or the team ought to come first. In times of hardship, like now, the debate got particularly intense. Abandoning capable shinobi meant that there would be fewer people to carry missions. On the other hand, mission success was more important than ever. Since mission failure didn't feed hungry mouths.

In such times it was a comfort to know that Baki was firmly on the side of team over mission. Kankuro did not want to be sacrificed for the sake of money. Or anything else, really. In fact, he'd rather live a good, long time.

"So…you liked my father?" Kankuro asked.

"I still do," Baki said.

Kankuro nodded slowly. "I guess Father wouldn't assign a jonin sensei who couldn't stand his guts. He'd be afraid that person would take out their feelings on us – me and Temari and Gaara, I mean."

Baki nodded. "That's true."

"How old were you when you left to captain your own team?" Kankuro asked.

"I was fifteen," Baki said. "Barely. I'd made jonin, so it was expected of me."

"You made jonin under Father's command?" Kankuro asked. He perked up. That was interesting news. "You must've handled some dangerous missions with him, then."

"Most missions contain an element of risk," Baki said. He chuckled at Kankuro's avid expression. "But yes. I was there when your father had to fight some tough battles. Succeeding with your father is what granted me my promotion to jonin. It was a bittersweet moment, however. I wasn't ready to leave your father's team. Truth be told, I could have stayed happy under your father's command for the rest of my life, in an alternate universe where I was never assigned my own team and your father never took the mantle of Kazekage."

That said a lot. Kankuro absorbed that information silently, chewing his lip while he thought. "Baki…did you know my father when he met my mother?"

"Yes," Baki said. "I was there for their first meeting. Your mother commanded a team that our team worked with. We were sent on a joint mission together. By the time our teams got back to Suna, your father and mother were dating." He grinned.

Kankuro blushed slightly. "Wow…that fast, huh?"

"It was a mission that did take two weeks," Baki said. "I'm sure that was plenty of time for them to discover that they liked each other." He seemed amused by Kankuro's reaction.

Kankuro nodded, still blushing. Sounds like a real romance.

He belatedly realized he could spend all four hours of their stake out asking questions about his father and mother. Kankuro shook himself. Focus on what you wanted in the first place, he told himself. "Baki, what do you know about Dad's father?"

Baki looked surprised. "Yondaime's father?"

"Yes," Kankuro said. "Please."

Baki's brow furrowed. He looked out across the desert. "Well…he was not a very nice man." He glanced at Kankuro quickly. "I did not know your father for long, only a few years before I led my own team, and then as Kazekage-sama, of course. But I did get to know your father's family, at least in passing. I know that your grandfather's name was Kanashu, and he had a nasty temper."

Kankuro was vaguely surprised. He wondered what Baki had witnessed. "How come you say that?"

"Well, I heard him yelling at your father more than once," Baki said wryly. "When I came by to meet with your father for training. My team sent me whenever your father was late. They figured I was braver." He backed up and explained, "I was always big for my age. So I was always the one sent to do difficult things. Like chide Sensei and bring him back for training sessions. They were afraid of your father."

"Why?" Kankuro asked.

Baki pressed his lips together. "Well…he was very stern. And sort of…" He shrugged. "You know what I mean. When he doesn't want to talk about something, he doesn't talk, and that makes students nervous."

"Ah," Kankuro said. He nodded. "Father is secretive, and that can be unsettling." Then he hesitated. It was an embarrassing question to have to ask, but there was really no other way to find out except to steal his father's birth certificate. "Baki…"

"Yeah?" Baki smiled at Kankuro patiently.

Kankuro shifted, flushing slightly. "What's father's name? I know he gave up his name to be Yondaime, and that's fine, or whatever. But I can't find it. In the album at home, all it says under pictures of him is 'husband'. That's 'cause it was my mom's doing. Putting together the album, I mean. And then when Dad took over, because she died, he didn't label any of the pictures anything at all. Nothing except the dates."

Baki snorted. "Well, if you want to know what we called him back when I was on a team under him…"

Kankuro nodded, unable to contain his eagerness.

Baki grinned. "We called him Kyou-sensei."

"Kyou-sensei?" Kankuro asked. Somehow, he'd thought there would be something more. "Kyou? That's my father's name? That's it?"

Baki laughed. "That's it." He shrugged. "I'm not sure what more there is."

"But it's so short," Kankuro said. "And simple. And…" He considered. A short name like that could mean anything. He was interested in that stuff because his mother had taken great pains to record all of their names in kanji, even though records spelled everything in the more utilitarian katakana. Kanji was important. Like people assumed that his name meant 'Intuitive Ninth Son', when it actually meant 'Gentle Ninth Son'. And people might assume Temari's name meant 'Sky Ball', when it really meant 'The sky's infinite logic'. Kanji was everything.

And it frustrated him that he didn't know his father's kanji; couldn't begin to guess it. Short names sometimes had hundreds of possible kanji.

Kankuro forced himself to focus and gave Baki a smile. "Thanks." At least he had a name to go on, even if he didn't know what it meant. He could surprise his father with his knowledge.

"No problem," Baki said.

For the rest of the time, they talked of unimportant things. When lunchtime rolled around, Temari joined them, but Gaara didn't.

An hour after lunch, the mission time was up, and they trekked back to the village.

xXx

Baki reported to Yondaime and went home. Temari and Gaara went their separate ways as well. Temari home to take a shower, and Gaara to who-knows-where to be alone.

That left Kankuro alone in the office with his father.

His father didn't seem to notice or mind. After accepting Baki's mission report, he returned to making notes about something, nodding to himself and doing that endearing habit of pressing the end of his pen to his bottom lip.

Kankuro grinned. He waited until his father was thoroughly absorbed and said, "So your name is Kyou, huh?"

His father looked up from the report he'd been reading, disconcerted. Then he laughed. "You've been speaking to Baki, haven't you?"

Kankuro approached the desk. "Uh-huh."

"So you've been nosing around," his father said good-naturedly. "Is there something you want to know specifically?"

Kankuro nodded. "Yeah. How do you spell that?"

"Spell what?" his father looked confused.

"Kyou," Kankuro said.

His father snorted. "What is the importance of that?"

"Mom knew the importance of spelling names," Kankuro said. "She made sure to record all our names. Mine, Temari's, Gaara's. She kept that information for us. But she didn't record your name. Or, I can't find it. I had to ask Baki to even find out what it was."

"Giving up one's name to become Kazekage is a tradition," his father said mildly.

"I know that, but it's stupid," Kankuro said. "It robs you of a personal identity."

"That is precisely why we are encouraged to give our names up," Yondaime said. "A Kazekage does not have a personal identity."

"Bullshit," Kankuro said.

His father looked disconcerted again, and stared at him for a few long moments. Then he looked away. "Alright. If you want to know, you want to know." He took a clean scrap of paper and scribbled something on it, then handed it to Kankuro.

Kankuro took the scrap of paper and stared at the kanji written in black ink. This can't be right.

His father raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Kankuro swallowed. "Why?"

His father shrugged. "We are given our names as babies. My father told me he picked that name because I wouldn't stop crying. 'It came to mind', he said."

"There ought to be a law against this," Kankuro said.

"There isn't," Yondaime said. He sounded disinterested.

"Well, there ought to be," Kankuro insisted.

"I could have my name changed if I truly wanted it to be," Yondaime said.

"Why didn't you?" Kankuro asked.

"Father wouldn't let me." Yondaime gave him a small smile. "At least until he died, that is. I doubt he could help it now. But now it doesn't matter because no one uses my name anyway."

"It matters." Kankuro had to struggle to find his voice. It was so horrible it was beyond mentioning. His father's name had been spelled with the kanji 叫. Which meant to scream and cry.

His father took in his sadness with an expression of dawning concern. "Kankuro…it doesn't bother you, does it?"

Kankuro crumpled the scrap of paper in his fist. "Of course it does!"

"But why?" His father asked. "I got over it a long time ago."

"Because it's wrong!" Kankuro exclaimed.

His father lowered his gaze to his desk. "I know. Karura said the same thing…a long time ago. She said she would always call me Koibito or Omoimono instead." Koibito and omoimono were both words for 'sweetheart'.

That explained a lot about why all the pictures in the family album were labeled 'Husband'.

"I wanted to call you something special," Kankuro said softly.

"Then call me 'Tousan'," his father said just as softly. "Because that is special." He reached out and squeezed Kankuro's hand. "To be your father is the most special thing that I could ever ask for."

Kankuro squeezed his hand in return. "Okay, then. I'll just keep calling you Tousan."

They looked into each other's eyes for a long moment. Kankuro wished this moment could turn into a kiss, but he knew from last time his father would only freak out, and their moment of understanding would be ruined. So he just kept squeezing his father's hand.