Here it is, I just couldn't wait. It's 11pm here so if there are any mistakes just shoot me a message and I'll fix them tomorrow.

We're back with Temari for this one.

I hope you all enjoy.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Naruto. Any surprises there?

I open my eyes. All I see is an inky black darkness totally void of any light. Are my eyes open? Am I blind?

I turn my head slightly, looking for pain. I can't feel my body. My body… did I have a body? What did I look like? What am I? Who am I?

I feel like I'm forgetting something. Something important. Something I care about. What is caring? I can't remember.

A broken sob rips from my throat, tears running across my cheeks. I guess I do have a body after all.

Does this mean I'm dead? Why would I be dead?

Fighting.

We were fighting. It was cold. And wet. But, there was also heat. And pain. So much pain. And screams. The desperate calls of my team mates.

My team. My village. My family. My friends.

I start to struggle, though nothing holds me down. I need light. I need air. My breathing begins to come in pants. I'm vaguely aware that I'm hyperventilating. Why am I worried?

My hand runs across my face, swiping the free flowing tears streaking my cheeks. I'm crying. I haven't cried since I was a little girl. Since my mother… it hurts. It hurts to think of her, the woman I resemble. The face in the mirror. I avoid them now. It's too painful, but it hurts just as much to not think of her. The guilt eats away at my stomach.

I am stuck. I've been stuck since that day. When Gaara killed all my illusions. My happy family. Being loved by my father. I gasp a little and clutch desperately at the material above my heart. I hate this. This deep seeded blame I place on Gaara.

I love him. Possibly more than Kankuro. Does that make me a terrible person? It wouldn't be a stretch. People talk about my cruelty. My cold detachment. Am I allowed to choose between siblings? I'm sure Kankuro feels the same. I know they are getting along now. They're closer than ever whilst I drift off into oblivion. I hope they're happy.

I was Gaara's mother figure. I am the one who failed him. I was the one who trained late into the night, trying to get as powerful as possible. Anything to help fight off the attacks. The villagers and assassins. My father.

I'm also the one who change his nappies. The one who stopped him from eating too much sand. The one who noticed the small frightened child. The child I tried to reach after our uncle's death. I tried. I watched, helpless, as my brother became the monster the village feared. The monster I feared. I would still fear him if it wasn't for that brat. That hyper, clueless blonde did more than I ever could.

The guilt that claws through my system leaves me gasping for air. I'm sure my eyes are red rimmed from crying so much. I feel so helpless. A choked cry flies from my parted lips.

'Now who's the cry-baby?' His voice echo's through my mind. Not even my own goading efforts can help stanch the tears.

I'm drowning in guilt and grief. This is why I don't show emotion. This is what our training is for. This is why it's bottled inside.

Inside. Am I inside?

I struggle to stand, wiping my hands across the sides of my kimono. I have to walk. To move. Even if I go nowhere. It doesn't matter anyway. It's not like I can see.

Forward. I have to move forward.

Matsuri looked across the earthen floor to where Temari was lying on her back. She was sure that she heard something coming from that side of the cavern. Deciding that it was probably best to tend to their squad leader while she lay unconscious she moved forward. Anything was better than being left with her destructive thoughts. Placing a cool hand on the blonde's heated cheek she sighed lightly. She brushed the sweat slicked blonde bangs away from her unusually pale face and noticed the dark marks under her eyes. The normally composed jonin looked completely haggard. Temari had come down with a bad fever. No doubt a mixture of exhaustion and the extended time she had spent in the vicious storm. There was nothing they could do and Matsuri was sick with worry.

"What I need is a wet wash cloth." She muttered to herself, stealing a selfish glance at Takumi. He was splayed across the floor next to Haruko having exhausted himself trying to get out of the hole they were currently stuck in. Not that she would ask him to waste his energy on such a small, possibly useless task. They all had to stay strong. The enemy could attack at any moment and they needed to protect Temari to the best of their abilities. Anything less would be a crime.

Haruko lifted her head off the ground, having heard Matsuri's soft murmur. She offered the younger girl a small smile, hoping to reassure her. Everyone knew Matsuri looked to Temari as an older sister. They all cared for the unconscious jonin. If her own feelings were any indication then the worry was probably driving Matsuri crazy.

"She'll be fine Matsuri. She's pulled through much worse. You know that." She whispered softly from across the dimly lit room.

Any thoughts? Mistakes?

...Until next time then.