The morning of the wedding was a complete disaster.

Temari had fire in her eyes waking up to the sight of a gigantic zit the size of a small ostrich egg on her face. She cursed out loud, screamed at her mirror, paced the floors enough to put a scorch mark in the carpet, and none of her bridesmaids could do anything to calm her. Matsuri did her best to ease her mood with kind words, but only ended up making the commander's eyes well up with tears. Luckily, thanks to a nifty medical jutsu, Sakura was able to somehow bring the swelling and redness down to a manageable level and the huge crisis had melted into a problem that only a little make-up couldfix. Akemi was grateful she didn't have to deal with a bridezilla and thanked her lucky stars for the Konoha medic.

Akemi had grown slightly attached to the woman since she had decided to cut her hair. It was like the second that she had it shed from her shoulders, the more open the woman was in trying to understand her and to get to know her not only as Akemi Nakahara, but as a friend, which still confused Akemi. Going from the most sadistic torturer Akemi had ever faced to a distinguished figure whom she respected in a little over two weeks absolutely blew her mind. But, as long as Temari wasn't beating the shit out of her and showed her the respect she deserved as a commander in arms, she could forget a few past offenses.

Besides, they didn't even scar badly enough to be considered a marking.

They weren't best friends or even had a 'sisterly' bond, but 'acquaintances' was a pretty good start. At least Temari didn't call the rogue 'bird bitch' under her breath anymore.

Temari's bridesmaids helped her into her snow white yukuta tied off with an exquisite lavender obi lined with silver butterflies. Temari had told the rogue that her mother had worn the exact same one to her wedding nearly twenty five years prior. A small, matching butterfly pin was placed in her straightened, shoulder length hair; the only decoration that she could decide on wearing other than her engagement ring. Temari was a goddess, the white offsetting the glow of her naturally tanned skin and sparkling eyes. Her tickled pink lips were all smiles and Akemi couldn't help but feel a spring of happiness coil in her chest at the sight of the blond.

She had always loved weddings. Her friends back home were all married by the time they were fourteen, some to the same man. Though the incestuous situations disturbed many, Tori no Suna ceremonies were always so joyous; the distresses upon the matters were always soon forgotten. Ritual marriages were full of dancing and singing and beautiful colors; the women were draped in cloth of their aura color and the men dressed in handmade feather capes to match the woman. They wore ceremonial paints along their faces and hands, the woman's in swirls and flowers with the man's in more geometric formation, but somehow, however wild they looked, they always blended together perfectly.

Akemi always dreamed of doing a traditional dance next to a man, their jeweled hands and bodies swerving in and out of each other like snakes. It was tradition to have the left hands always bound above the dancing couple's heads. It was a sign of fidelity, a promise, to the future; to be bound hand in hand in all decisions for the rest of their lives. The amazing thing? No matter how barbaric the Tori no Suna seemed compared to Suna, no one had ever violated that promise.

Ever.

Even her mother was involved in the ruling of the growing community. Most of the time, Kojiro went directly to Seka and asked her opinion on a situation, even though her decision held little to no weight ever.

At least he kept his marital promise. Akemi couldn't say he kept many promises other than that.

The Sand wedding itself with barely a hitch. Many ninja from Konoha and Sand showed up for the ceremony celebrating the new bond, including Shikamaru's best friends and his mother (his father was unable to attend, for a reason that everyone but Akemi seemed to know). Gaara was able to preside of the ceremony with the help of the Fifth Hokage, Tsunade, who guided the young Kazekage through a very tense ceremony, much to the chagrin of the groom. Gaara wouldn't let any part of his glare veer away from the Nara heir, his fingers tight against the holy book in his hands.

Kankuro had decided to ditch the face paint and went totally bare to his sister's nuptials. Well, more like Akemi told him that he would look like a fool if he did. "It's a ceremony, not a war zone! You'd fit right into my people, but I'm almost positive your country doesn't work this way, ne? And what about your sister? She would be so embarrassed of her little brother! You don't need to scare people with that nasty make-up of yours, now do you?"

"It will be a war zone if that bastard tries anything on Temari, he'd be happier if he died," he had mumbled in response, but ditched the kabuki brush on his dresser and scurried behind her to the ceremony.

The relationship between Kankuro and Akemi was tense on occasion, but was mostly filled with jests and playful banter. Kankuro was fully healed thanks to the Konoha medic, but Akemi was still on the mends. Her bruises had all blended into a mellow yellow/green mix, but some of her bones were still quite bruised and sore. Her newest scars on the joints of her shoulders were still a raw pink, looking like diseased holes in her tanned skin. Kankuro tended to "accidentally" bump into her on multiple occasions, leading to sufficient hissing since the wounds were still quite tender. Of course, it was all in good fun for Kankuro, since he still wanted to enact a little bit of revenge on the rogue. If she was in his custody, why not have a bit of fun?

Akemi had dressed herself in the traditional Tori no Suna jewel tone azure that she always loved to wear. Her dress was a halter top, knee length shift that clung to her thin frame where it should; a traditional Suna formal dress. Of course, she added her own Tori no Suna flair with a newly redone feather belt in a cooler color palette, a halter string replacement piece made of dried boar leather and had cut a keyhole opening at the top of her chest to show just enough to leave a man wondering. She decided that the idea of the open back held by two leather straps would probably give some more elderly wedding goers a heart attack, so she decided to go with the daring ensemble anyway. She paired the outfit with two dangerous looking silver rings that glinted against her black chakra blockers.

But, then, of course the rain came.

Just as Shikamaru was about to take Temari officially as his bride, the sky opened up to a monsoon; the one day a year that it decides to rain in Suna. Temari sat there, water logged and in disbelief, cursing at the sky; at her mother, at her father, some woman named Chiyo and a slew of other relatives that Akemi had recollection of hearing about once and a blue moon. Shikamaru ceased her fury by scooping her into his arm and planting the big one to seal the deal as the rain fell from the grey clouds. A kiss that was incredible enough to make that woman shut up was something that Akemi had to see again before she died. Temari was all smiles, even with rivers of eye makeup streaming down her face.

The reception, at least, went much better than the ceremony. Kankuro had a bit of liquor in his system, which made him much easier to deal with. Akemi knew the reason for the liquor-up: the reluctant congratulation of the bride and groom. Kankuro had immediately run away after the exchange, a cup of sake placed in his hand by Gaara. What a wingman, Akemi could only ponder, her short leash pulling her away before she could offer vocal congratulations. All she could do was offer a small wave, which got Temari and Shikamaru laughing. At least Gaara and Kankuro are in this together. They're both going to be blasted tonight…

Akemi and Kankuro spent most of the evening chatting with the Konoha shinobi, although one long haired blonde with ice blue eyes was so drunk, she was basically giving Kankuro a lap dance while trying to chat with him. Akemi couldn't suppress her giggles.

"Ino-chan, I'm not drunk enough for this…"

"You weren't even drunk last time, lover-boy," she had slurred in his ear.

He shooed her ways like a bug. "Shows what you know, you overbearing woman!"

Akemi held a delightful conversation with the heir of the Hyuuga clan, dressed in a light pink yukuta that offset her lavender eyes. She was a small girl with a large chest by the name of Hinata who had many questions about her culture and seemed truly intrigued in all that she had to say. Akemi found it a bit hard to open up to her at first with her soft voice (something the Tori no Suna frowned upon), but quickly found herself spewing tradition after tradition of her people. The endearing girl soaked it all in like a sponge.

"You have so much freedom, Akemi-san," the girl muttered quietly, her hands grasping around a cup of water. "I could only imagine what it's like."

"There isn't nearly as much freedom as you think, Hinata-sama." Her hands wrapped painfully around her bonds, her fingers tracing over the skin gently. "I'm caged right now for the sake of my people after all. It's because of our leader's will that I'm even in this situation in the first place."

"For the sake of-"

"HEEEEYYYYY HINATA-CHAAAANNNNN!"

A large hand slipped over the girl's shoulder eliciting a small gasp and cherry red blush to brush over her cheeks and shoulders. "N-Naruto-kun! Stop that!"

"Ehhhh, what do you say, Hinata-chan, huh? How 'bout a dance, huh? We can't let Sakura-chan and that Teme get away with this, right!?"

Akemi gazed past the jinchuriki to find the medic in the arms of a dark haired stranger in a blue and grey yukata with a white and red fan emblazoned on the back. As if feeling her gaze, his onyx orbs turned to lock onto hers. She could have sworn she saw shades of red flicker across his pupils, but he turned back to the woman in his arms too quickly for her to make sure.

She returned her sight to the heiress who was already half way away from the table. She gave a small smile and a simple wave before falling into Naruto's arms at the sound of the music.

Akemi gave a small wave of departure, but felt herself tugged up as she noticed Kankuro no longer at the table. Thanks to the alcohol impairing his awareness of her chakra bonds, he probably forgot he was even attached to her; either that, or alcohol made the bonds longer. She followed the leash to an open courtyard where she found him sitting on a bench, his head between his knees. She smirked and made her way over, her heels clicking on the pavement. She wrapped her shoulders in one of the shawls Temari had gifted her in her first days of arriving and sat down next to him.

"Not drunk enough, or too drunk to realize that you're too drunk?"

"The second one," he slurred, another bout of vomit coming through his throat. She can tell he tried to painfully choke it back in her presence, his cheeks bulging just before he lost it again. Just like his pride.

"Alright buddy, let's get you home, huh?" she said softly, letting her voice take on a more motherly tone. She rubbed his back soothingly as he finished emptying his stomach, the violent heaving slowing to just heavy breathing. She extended a hand towards the man, who took it thankfully. He swayed as he stood, his breath reeking of alcohol and vomit, but Akemi couldn't blame him. If Taigo or Sozen had gotten married, she would probably be in the same situation. He held her hand loosely and strode back into the facility with a blush of beer streaked on his cheeks.

Akemi found the bride chatting with a few of her bridesmaids from Konoha after plopping Kankuro back down at his table. "Hey Temari-san? I'm going to take your brother home… He's not in such good shape right now…"

Temari giggled in response. Akemi could see the small pink tinge of drunkenness on her cheeks as well. "I can see! Seems like he liquored himself up to forget this ever happened." The girls around her laughed whole heartedly. "That's Kankuro for you. Anyway, thanks for taking care of him, Akemi-san. He should be the one caring for you, but if a man can't hold his alcohol better than his woman, then I wouldn't want to be associated with him in public either…" She eyed her expectantly.

"What? OH! Oh Temari, I don't drink! I'm fine!" she sweated out. "You remember what happened when you took me out the first time right?"

"How could I forget? You were dancing on the table and singing at the top of your lungs! You tried to get the waiter to kiss you too! I know you're on your best behavior, I'm just teasing ya! Just make sure he stays on his... He gets sick kinda fast…" Temari took another swig of her sake. Akemi groaned.

"Well, goodnight Temari. Enjoy the married life! And congratulations," Akemi shouted behind her as she made her way back for Kankruo, scooped him up under his arms, and sped out of there without even a final goodbye to the Kazekage.

"Why're we movin' so faszt?" Kankuro slurred, his feet dragging behind him. "What's da rush?"

"You're sister's the rush," Akemi muttered. "She said you get sick easily! I'm not letting you puke in the road."

She got to the Kazekage's Mansion in record time and immediately set Kankuro to bed. "Thank you Ka-chaaaaaan~," Kankuro had sung to her as he laid down on his futon. "Can Kanky-kun get a kissy kiss?"

"In your dreams, motherfucker," she had responded with a smile, shutting the door behind her. She sat behind it for a few minutes until she heard his loud snores reverberating from the walls. With a content sigh, she picked herself up from the ground, cracked her neck and made her way back to her bedroom.

When she entered, Akemi quickly discarded her beautiful blue dress and belt to be banished to the side of the room under the balconette window. Once stark naked, she kicked off her shoes and allowed them to join the rest of her outfit. She lay atop the silk comforter for a few minutes, arching her back towards the sky in a stretch. Like a lanky cat, she allowed her body to roll back up to a seated position with her hands in her lap.

It felt so nice to stretch after a long day in a constricting dress and heels. Akemi had to learn to how walk in the infernal things since she had never stepped a single toe in a shoe with a heel before. Akemi had stretched morning and night in her freedom of home, practicing her kata at the sun's rising and setting without fail every day. Now that she was stuck in this place, she hadn't even thought about it once thanks to Kankruo's hectic schedules of sun rise to late night government work.

The moon was high in the sky at this point in the night, which meant everyone in the area should be either ready for bed or already snuggled into their sheets. Akemi opened her curtains and her floor to ceiling windows wide to show the stone balcony overlooking the city walls, allowing the silver beams to streak through her window. She smiled. She always loved the view from this damned room, even if it did act as a pretty cage. This was the only thing she loved in this place. Looking over the rooftops, she was a bird of paradise; she could stretch her wings and glide. It was breathtaking.

She strode over to her wardrobe for a change of clothes, but ended up eying her canopy bed instead. She grabbed her shearing scissors before she did anything and hopped atop the bed, standing on her tiptoes to snip the fabric hanging from the ceiling. Trapped beneath the gauzy material, she floundered her arms like a flopping fish, ending up falling off of the bed and smashing her face into the floor.

She felt the blood almost immediately, feeling the heat radiate to her face in embarrassment. Good thing Kankuro wasn't in the room, because he wouldn't ever let her live that down. As she cleaned herself up in the bathroom, she wondered why she imagined that Kankuro would be in her room in the first place. After all, here she was stark naked after a long party and he was too drunk to even think straight. They were dirty, tired, and sweaty; surely he wouldn't want to stay with her? Or maybe we could shower together a part of her thought. It would definitely make the experience more enjoyable; nothing like two dirty humans getting clean with the help of another person. Bodies covered in fragrant soaps, rough wash cloths on skin, fingers combing through hair... She quickly shook the image away, a flush on her cheeks. There was a tingle in her stomach that lingered for a few moments, causing heat to spread over her chest and shoulders. Where did that come from?!

She needed to clear her mind. She needed to purge herself of the drunken, abusive puppeteer with the calloused hands that would be oh-so-heavenly on her tingling skin.

She rapidly cleared a space on her floor. She pushed her writing desk up against the wall and moved the small receiving table against her wardrobe. She stood centered in the window, allowing the cool breeze from the night to envelope her skin in a thin sheet of cold air, closing her violet eyes. Her arms moved slowly, her body arching in curving with the beams of light around her. Her legs followed slowly, her deep breathing expanding her ribs and clearing her head.

She followed through movement after movement, her muscles tight against her skin and her eyes shut in concentration. Over time, she increased her speed of the movements and began blending the different kata together. She felt as if she was dancing; as if her arms were her wings and her legs just followed behind like they were meant to. Her mind disappeared into numbers, her breathing following suit like warriors to the beats of a drum.

But slowly, her knees began buckling, her balance faltering. She collapsed to the floor in a fit of tangled limbs, her forehead ricocheting off of the floor with a crack. She couldn't even extend her arms to brace her fall. Her hands shook violently to her shoulders as she repeatedly slammed her fists into the ground, her tears soaking into the carpet beneath her.

She was so weak. This place was killing her; sucking her of all the life she had. Weeks before, she would have been able to do that kata cycle without even blinking an eye, repeating it over and over in midday's heat without so much as a sigh. Now, in the cool night, she couldn't even finish it. She couldn't even build up the energy to save her naked body from crumbling into the carpeted floor. She couldn't even find the will to try to escape. She was alone. She was frail.

She was no longer Akemi Nakahara, princess of the Tori no Suna, master of the Golden Strings, commanding general of the Avian Horde. She was Akemi Nakahara, prisoner and sacrifice for the greater destruction of a country she had no love, nor no hate for. She was a tool. She was broken.

She should have flown from the roof those many nights ago.

She swore she heard the bedroom door click closed as she fell into a restless sleep on her carpet.

Kankuro awoke slowly the next morning, drool sticking to the side of his face. Somehow, someway, he ended up asleep on his futon last night. He thanked his lucky stars that there was no one in bed with him, especially that Yamanaka girl. He wouldn't think his sister would ever let him hear the end of it.

He sobered up slightly with a stretch. His sister was gone from their home forever, stolen by that Konoha kid. Of course, she would still be living in the village, but it was customary for the married siblings of the Kazekage to move from the mansion and find a place of their own to start a family. Temari was going to be in a small home within the walls of the Suna, but it still seemed like a world away compared to being just around the hall. She wouldn't be there to wake him up from his drunken night's escapades anymore. Well, what a bummer…

Kankuro pulled on a pair of sweats, not bothering with a shirt, and moved down the stairs to the kitchen, which was eerily still. He had assumed that Gaara has already gone to the office, which wasn't surprising. A Kazekage's business was never done, but a captain's could be on occasion. Akemi, on the other hand, still wasn't awake, which the puppet master was surprised about. Normally, the rogue women had accomplished all of her tasks before Kankuro had even brushed his hair.

Kankuro threw a few eggs onto the skillet and mulled over them somberly. Maybe she was meditating? Maybe… Maybe she was hurt? Had his alcoholism knocked her out through the chakra bond? After all, he knew Akemi could NOT hold her alcohol. Did he get her so drunk, she couldn't even make it to bed and she passed out somewhere?! He felt sweat brim at the corner of his temple. He just had to make sure. He had to make sure he didn't actually kill the poor girl through his own selfish whims. His feet flew him up the stairs faster than they had ever carried him before. Soon, his fingers gripped at the handle and twisted slowly, peaking through a crack in the door.

She was lying on her side, her face towards the window with a singed bicep pillowing her head. Kankuro got an ample view of her bare back, her ritual scars twisting like ivy over her tanned skin. His eyes drifted from the tops of her shoulders, following the line of her spine down to the small of her back, past her rear and down to those long, silky legs caressed by the ivory carpet.

He flushed. She was butt naked, passed out on the floor. And there he was, staring at it all like the little pervert that he was.

A hand shot over his eyes, the heat of his cheeks burning underneath his eyes. Oh no. She's HOT, he whimpered in his mind. He had seen enough fine bodies in the past to know exactly just what a gorgeous figure the rogue had. Just a glimpse of that incredible musculature aided by the mystery of each swirling scar on caramel coated skin lead him nearly biting his fingers, his forehead flushed. He tried to shut the door as quietly as he could, sinking to the wooden hallway floor.

Kankuro recollected his thoughts. Alright, what did he just see? There was a girl on the ground. She was asleep from what he knew, totally bare in front of an open window. An open window. Why was the window open in the first place? His eyes snapped open, regaining his composure. Did someone open the window to sneak in? Was she actually… Dead? Was there blood on the floor by her bed?

His heart stopped. Kankuro bolted back into the room as quickly as he could, shutting the windows without turning to face the girl. He heard an immediate rustle along the floor and a shrill gasp. "W-what the hell, Make-up?!"

He continued to face towards the windows, the sheer curtains barely obscuring his vision. He didn't want to turn to face her. "I was worried since you weren't awake before I was. When I saw the windows open and you lying in the middle of the floor with the blood next to the bed, I immediately thought someone put a hit on you and took you out. Sorry for being cautious, Akemi-san." He snorted out the last part. On better behavior or not, she still was just as brash as ever.

Akemi crossed her arms over her chest. "Look, you can stop staring at the window, you perv. I heard you peep in before. Your heavy breathing could wake the dead, freak." She waltzed over her drawers, pulling out a pale green Suna frock and threw it over her head, belting it securely around her lean waist. She didn't bother with binding anything; there wasn't really anything to bind. Akemi had been blessed with a small chest, so she rarely went with bindings unless she was disguising herself as a man. She placed her hands on her hips. "Seriously Kankuro-san. I'm dressed."

Kankuro turned his head to make sure she was telling the truth before coming back to a full frontal. He wasn't wearing a shirt, so his leaned muscles were showered by the early morning sun. His hands dug into the pockets of his sweats as he started to leave without a word. Akemi let her eyes wander up and down his back, his muscles moving together like a stalking jaguar's would. Her eyes just happened to rest on his butt when he stopped to turn back towards her. She didn't hide her eyes from him. "Hey, if you snuck a peek, I think it's only natural that I do too!" She winked at her guard and flounced into the bathroom.

As Kankuro closed the door, the flush on his cheeks was unable to be tamed. The smell of smoke wafted up to his nose. A… Fire? Yeah, maybe it was from the fire he had in his crotch right now. Kankuro went back to his deduction skills. Alright, what was he doing before he came upstairs. Making a hearty breakfast of fruit, oatmeal and… eggs.

He smacked his head, running down the stairs. Way to go, baka, he thought to himself, turning off the burner and opening the kitchen window. Worry about your prisoner, burn your breakfast. As he slid them onto a plate, he only imagined that the eggs were small, lithe hands and the plate was his body. The warmth of the eggs on a cold plate; he shivered. There was something severely wrong with the puppeteer. Severely, severely wrong.

"So, where are we off to today?"

The rogue moved next to Kankuro with child-like wonder, eyeing different stands full of different wares from food to jewelry as they passed through the central marketplace. Unnerved by their awkward confrontation this morning, Akemi was waving to small children who giggled and waved back in response while their mothers and fathers quickly pushed them along, away from the menace of the Sand. Kankuro grabbed at her wrist and dragged her along, the redhead pulling back from her stupor immediately. No matter how friendly they got, Akemi still couldn't stand him touching her. Now, she didn't yell or fight back, but she always changed her "aura" to something a bit more sinister at every touch.

"If you'd pay attention for once, maybe you'd notice," the puppet master muttered, leading them to an older, rundown building with shuttered windows. There was no door. Akemi gave a bewildered glance at the building as Kankuro undid the genjutsu on the old building to reveal a door with a porthole window. He pulled out a key, turned the lock and opened it quietly. He moved inside quickly and Akemi followed suit before the door shut and disappeared with another genjutsu behind them.

The room was completely dark other than from the few strands of light flickering through the top of windowed skylights. She could tell the ceilings were vaulted, but other than that, she had no sense of dimension within the room. It could be as small as her hut back home or as large as the Kazekage's mansion for all she knew.

A dull light was lit, which triggered other lights to glow in return. Akemi's jaw dropped.

Filing from wall to wall in neat, little rows and dropping from the ceiling were puppets.

They were in every corner of the room, except in a small space where Kankuro kept a working desk and light carved into the wall. There were ones which were large, small, females, males, animals, creatures, objects; some were richly painted, others weren't quite so finished. All of them were beautifully crafted with skill, their limbs hanging perfectly from their mechanical joints.

Akemi walked beneath the scattered limbs, still mesmerized by the sheer amount of corpses hanging from the sealing like lynched warriors. It was an incredible sight. "Am I in heaven?" she asked in awe under her breath.

"If heaven is my workshop then yes," Kankuro laughed out. He took his seat in his wall cubby and removed his headgear, rubbing his painted eyes carefully from sand. "I sure hope heaven is something like this; I don't think I would actually mind it then."

Akemi continued to walk amongst the puppets, running her fingertips gently along their cloaks of velvet and cloth. Her hands lingered on one; a small child-like puppet with red hair and a hole in its chest. It looked damaged, although the pinwheel razors sprouting from its back were dripping with a creamy, golden liquid. She eyed it warily. It looked so familiar. Her fingers unconsciously reached out and stroked the substance, the thickness rolling over her skin in a fiery heat.

She heard wheels spin and immediately felt wood around her chest, lifting her away from the area of the puppet. She whirled to find a female puppet with hair as orange as fire and a deep purple kimono pulling her back, Kankuro at her helm. "Don't touch that one." There was no sugar coating to his voice. It was as stern as steel, his tone a warning.

Akemi didn't budge anymore on the topic. The fire in her fingers had extinguished. There was nothing but frayed skin left on her fingertips. Poison. It was made of an alkaline solution which was the reason for the burning, but it had ended so quickly; normally poisons like that should be extremely potent if they were to be effective in battle. She frowned. Either he was playing with the solution on that one or it wasn't necessarily meant for a quick kill. She let it slip her mind.

"Why did you bring me here, of all places?" Her voice drifted quietly as she sat on the floor, her fingers rolling in the dust of the wooden panels. "To torture me? To remind me that I'm useless no matter how comfortable I get with you? I mean, aren't you afraid I'm going to steal something or figure out how your puppets work?"

Kankuro stood silently for a moment. He actually DIDN'T know why he had brought her to his workshop. He had no idea at all. It just so happened that he wanted to work and, since both were artists, he thought she would appreciate being in a place of art and not stuck in a stuffy building. He only shrugged his shoulders. "Take it as you wish. I just thought you would rather be here than stuck in the house. In regards to you stealing or peeping into anything you shouldn't, I have eyes all over this place, Akemi-san. I wouldn't worry about me, when you should absolutely be worrying about yourself."

He sat down again in his chair, pulling the fiery puppet onto his desk and opening the kimono with gentle fingers. The fabric was made of one of his mother's old kimonos, so he wanted it to be as pristine as possible. This one wasn't to be used in battle; this one held sentiment. He based the entire puppet around the kimono, letting the orange bounce against the purple in a streak of bright colors. This one was meant to stand out. It wouldn't be a part of his Secret Black techniques. He would never forgive himself if he even stained the fabric.

Akemi was doodling dust circles, making different patterns of circles and waves. He eyed her small fingers painting into the floor, a sketch of a bird with a large plume of feathers and decorative tail. There were lines coming from beneath its talons, stretching out underneath its beak and out towards the sky. He sighed.

"Look, I know this is against the rules," he drawled, his brush dipping in tarnish. "But, if you wanna make something, go for it; I trust my abilities and you enough in this place to at least allow that. Only, no weapons; I only want to see a marionette. I'll inspect it afterwards to make sure it's clear."

Akemi came up from her drawing at his words. He was letting her… Build? To create? To make something with her own hands against Gaara's orders? She knew he was breaking all kinds of rules, but in an artist's workshop, there are none other than the artist's themselves. Gaara didn't matter here. She was an artist and he was an artist; he was opening his shop to her as a mutual puppeteer, not as an enemy; as a creator and as a colleague.

She stood in her spot, eying him quietly. She let a soft smile grace her full lips that shone all the way to her violet irises. She gave a deep bow. "Kankuro-san… Thank you." She felt her throat choke up. She couldn't say anymore. A tear slithered down her cheek as she slowly rose, prancing off to collect materials.

He smiled. That was the first time she actually meant it.

Ridiculously sorry this is coming so late! There's been a lot to do and not nearly enough time to do it!

Remember! Comment, rate, favorite, watch and spread the word! Thank you all so so so much for your support! I read every message!

Xo Epsilion