In which Gaara draws a portrait.
O-O-O
Fuu took a long breath in and out, enjoying the world around her.
Spring had arrived with all of its flair. Petals fluttered in the breeze, wafting a sweet perfume. Bees flitted to and fro, collecting nectar. Ants marched over branches in efficient lines. Caterpillars crawled over leaves in search of food.
Fuu squatted down to observe one of those caterpillars as it inched up a branch. As it reached its objective, it began gnawing efficient semi-circles on the edge.
Fuu placed a hand over her mouth to keep herself from making a sound. How could such a small creature be so cute? She wanted to take it home and watch it create a chrysalis. And then observe as it became a butterfly and fluttered around her room. Perhaps if she removed some of her furniture, she could turn her bedroom into a—
"Fuu?" Takumi's voice from behind interrupted her daydreams.
"Hm?" Fuu looked up at her teacher. Thoughts of creating an insectarium out of her bedroom vanished. While her teacher did not yet look angry— and she had only seen him get angry a few times— he was clearly not amused.
Fuu bit her lip and looked down, hoping to look as contrite as possible. "Sorry, sensei. It's just…" she forced her voice to sound choked up. "I saw the cutest little caterpillar and I just had to—"
"We're on a mission, Fuu," Takumi interrupted, a hint of steel in his words. "Your first mission, in fact. Becoming distracted is unbecoming of a shinobi of Takigakure and could become an issue of life or death."
We're just trimming hedges.
Fuu wanted to retort, but she knew it would be pointless. Ever since they had received the mission briefing, her teacher hadn't been as lenient as usual.
Although she could understand why. It might only be gardening, but it was still an assignment from Takigakure and she was still a loyal shinobi to her village. Whatever the rank, she was responsible for completing it. It didn't mean she had to like it, though.
Fuu sighed. "All right, all right." She stood up, brushed dirt off her skirt, and picked her gardening shears back up. She returned to her job, but not before moving the caterpillar gently out of the way.
Satisfied, Takumi jumped back, resting under the shade of a tree with his back on the trunk.
Fuu groaned. Why did she have to do the hard work while Takumi got to rest and judge her work ethic? And why was hedge trimming considered a mission worthy of hiring a ninja? She was a shinobi and a jinchuuriki. She had obtained near-perfect control of Chomei's chakra. She had fought off a kidnapping attempt and saved her village.
Annoyed at the injustice and mumbling under her breath, Fuu kept working, making sure all insects were out of the way while she did so. What felt like days later, she was finished, the lines straight and the edges trimmed.
"Done," she muttered, wiping sweat off her brow. "Finally."
A hand appeared on top of her head. "Not bad," Takumi said. "But you missed a spot."
Fuu groaned and hung her head. "Where?" Why did the client have to have such a large garden anyway?
But to her surprise Takumi laughed. "I'm kidding. It looks fine."
Fuu met her teacher's gaze with a pout. "That's mean, sensei."
Takumi shrugged. "I just couldn't help myself." He grinned. "Now, let's get paid so we can go home."
Fuu stretched her shoulders back. "Please," she whined. "I need a shower."
"Then let's go."
Fuu only nodded, trailing after her teacher as they headed toward the garden shed. Quiet, she watched as Takumi talked to their client, an elderly man, and received a small envelope full of cash. With a final bow of respect, they uttered a quick farewell and left the property.
"Here's your cut," Takumi said as he handed her a stack of bills, perhaps half of what was in the envelope.
Fuu was unable to hold back her displeasure. "Where's the rest of it?"
Takumi didn't bother to look abashed. He shrugged and placed the rest of the money inside his vest pocket. "Perks of being the leader."
Fuu groaned as she tucked the money into her weapon's pouch. All that work only for Takumi to take half of it? It wasn't fair. She turned to glare at her teacher.
"Keeping you on task is more difficult than any mission I've ever been on," Takumi said. "Besides, you don't even have to pay for food or housing. Think of this as… paying rent."
Fuu crossed her arms and huffed. Wings appeared at her hips and she fluttered up into the sky. With her back toward her teacher, she flew away.
Stuck on the group, Takumi only laughed. "Congrats on finishing your first mission! How'd you like it?"
"It sucked!" Fuu shouted in retort.
O-O-O
Gaara bit the tip of his tongue as drew Fuu's other eye. Nearly a half hour later, the portrait was nearly finished.
"Wow! That's really good!" Naruto gushed as he peeked over Gaara's shoulder. With the other jinchuuriki asleep or busy, Naruto was his only other companion. Not that Gaara minded. It was always nice to spend time with just Naruto.
Gaara's face grew warm as he refocused on his drawing. "Thanks." He tilted his pencil to shade.
"How'd you get so good, anyway?" Naruto whined, peeking over his shoulder again. "That looks like a picture, ya know."
Gaara shrugged. "I just practiced a lot."
It was an understatement. Without sleep, he had more free time than he knew what to do with. At night he could spend an hour or two with the jinchuuriki, but most of the time Gaara had no one else to talk to.
And while his relationship with Temari and Kankuro had improved, it was more polite than anything familial. Besides, his siblings had their own hobbies and issues to deal with. They didn't need him around.
With nothing else to do between missions and with cacti being low-maintenance, Gaara had immersed himself in art.
"I mean, look at mine!" Naruto lifted up his sketchbook. "It doesn't even look like Fuu nee-chan!" he complained.
Gaara suppressed a wince. The eyes were different sizes and strangely shaped. The nose looked more like a snout. It took Gaara a moment to realize that the mouth, frozen in a horrific shape that showed off a collection of terrible soul devouring teeth, was actually supposed to be smiling. Was that supposed to be Fuu?
"It's... very unique." Gaara struggled to find words he could use.
Naruto rolled his eyes, clearly understanding Gaara's compliment meant little. "Would you believe me if I told you it's still better than the last one?"
Gaara forced his face not to shift. How could anything be worse than that?
"Anyway..." Naruto allowed his sketchpad to disappear. "I'm really tired and I have school tomorrow," he said with a yawn. "So I guess I'll talk to you later."
A familiar pain pierced through Gaara's heart but he forced himself to tamp it down. Naruto had once promised they would all live together one day and Gaara believed it. But it still hurt every time they had to say goodbye.
Forcing a smile, Gaara met Naruto's eyes. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Naruto. Sleep well!"
But Gaara must not have been able to fully control his expression because Naruto frowned. "I wish you could be here with me, ya know."
Gaara was unable to pretend anymore. "Me, too," he admitted.
Naruto reached over, wrapping his arms around Gaara's neck. Gaara dropped his sketchbook and he allowed it to disappear as well.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Gaara," Naruto separated from the hug long enough to grin at him, his hands gripping Gaara's shoulders.
"See you tomorrow," Gaara answered back.
With one last smile and wave, Naruto disappeared, leaving Gaara kneeling alone. In an instant, the Room transformed into something constraining and claustrophobic. There was no point in staying any longer.
Sitting cross-legged on the windowsill of his bedroom, Gaara opened his eyes.
Based on the position of the moon outside, it was likely an hour past midnight. A quick glance at the clock confirmed his suspicions.
One-thirty.
Gaara sighed. What was he supposed to do until dawn?
He took a long breath in and out, the cold, dry desert air waking him up better than any soldier pill ever could. With one more sigh, he jumped down and looked around his dark bedroom.
Potted cacti dominated every empty inch of his bedroom, in everything from leftover yogurt containers to massive sandstone pots he had created himself. But his pride and joy were the pansies growing near the window.
It had been difficult at first to grow the seeds Yuda had given him. Pansies required more water than succulents, but overwatering could lead to root rot. It had taken months of research and a lot of trial and error until the flowers had bloomed. But soon after that, Gaara had a large pot of multicolored pansies thriving inside his bedroom.
With a smile, he squatted down in front of the flowers, inspecting them from up close. With summer ending, they had begun to droop, but Gaara didn't mind. Soon enough, its children would be reborn and there would be a new generation adorning his room.
Gaara headed to the lightswitch, wincing when the light stung his eyes. He turned to his bookcase, selecting a book at random before sitting on his bed to read.
Bored, Gaara flipped through the pages of his book— a guide on flowering cacti— as he waited for the sun to rise and the day to begin.
When he grew tired of thumbing through the book, it was only past three in the morning. Why was it so difficult to figure out what to do?
His stomach was the one that gave him an answer. While it wasn't empty, it wanted something to eat.
With a sigh, Gaara left the comfort of his bed and headed toward the kitchen. Perhaps after a snack, he could sketch some more. He still needed to practice shading. With vague plans, he entered the kitchen. But to his surprise there was someone inside.
"Oh... hi." Kankuro stood near the window, darkness leaving most of his face in shadow.
Gaara was silent for a moment before answering. "Hello."
He forced his face not to reveal any emotion as he studied his brother up and down. Kankuro was wearing pajamas, his hair disheveled and sticking up at odd angles. Had he woken up for a glass of water?
Kankuro blinked once before he pointed to the fridge. "Thirsty?" he asked.
Gaara only nodded.
With a grunt and a nod of his own, Kankuro fetched a new glass and took out the pitcher of ice water from the fridge.
Gaara walked toward the table, wavering for a moment before taking a seat. It was the first time he could remember being in the same room as Kankuro without Temari there, too. He forced his face into a familiar mask. What could they even talk about?
Kankuro handed him his glass of water before taking a seat at the table. Without saying anything, they both took a long drink, letting out a soft sigh afterwards.
As he took another sip, Gaara studied Kankuro up and down. His brother was avoiding eye contact, staring out the window as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. On closer inspection, his eyes were red rimmed and there was a thin layer of sweat over his forehead. Was it his imagination or did his brother look almost frightened?
Gaara hesitated, biting his tongue before taking another sip of water. Should he ask Kankuro if anything was wrong? Would his brother even answer?
An uncomfortable weight settled in his stomach. If Naruto or Fuu were there instead, he would certainly try to comfort them. With a gulp to calm down his nerves, he spoke.
"Is everything all right, Kankuro?" he asked. "You're usually not awake at this time."
Kankuro tensed and he focused on looking out the window, pointedly avoiding Gaara's gaze. "I just couldn't sleep," he answered. "What about you?"
Gaara blinked. "Um..."
Even in the dark, Kankuro's blush was impossible to miss. He turned his gaze away from the window to stare at the floor.
"Sorry, dumb question." He brought an arm close to him, protecting his chest and stomach. "I just..." In the night's silence, his gulp almost seemed to echo. "I just had a bad dream," he admitted.
Gaara frowned. A bad dream? The other jinchuuriki had explained what a dream was before, but he had never experienced one himself. How often were dreams bad, anyway?
"Although... uh..." Kankuro combed his fingers through his hair. "I guess you wouldn't know much about that, would you?"
Gaara shook his head.
Kankuro gulped again. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. "But don't worry about me, Gaara." His voice was full of false cheer. "It's just... something that happens sometimes."
"I... see..." Unsure what to say or do, Gaara lifted the glass of water up to his lips again. "So..." He paused, unsure whether to ask his question or not. "What was your dream about?"
To Gaara's surprise, Kankuro bolted up from his seat, nearly spilling his glass of water over. "What does it matter to you?" he shouted. "It's not like you'd understand!"
Gaara flinched, his heart thundering at the sudden burst of fear. Why was Kankuro shouting at him? It was just a question. Weren't they starting to get along?
His heart quickened further when sand rose up around him, almost protective. It began to creep toward Kankuro.
At the sight of his greatest weapon and defense, Kankuro took a step back. But the sand only moved faster, tendrils reaching for his ankles, searching to constrain him before he could escape.
Gaara bolted up from his seat, a hand raised in an effort to keep the sand from moving further. 'Stop it!'
But Shukaku either didn't hear or didn't care. The sand crawled ever closer to Kankuro, who was now frozen in place from shock.
'I said, stop it!' Sweat dripped down Gaara's forehead in panic. When was the last time he had lost control of the sand?
Gaara grit his teeth and took a deep breath in and out. To his relief, the sand stopped in midair. A second later, it collapsed, scattering on the floor, inert once more.
The whole incident had taken only a few seconds, but it left Gaara out of breath and shaking. A lurching feeling made him bend over, one hand over his stomach and the other in front of his mouth.
I... I almost killed him.
"Y-you..."
With a shudder, Gaara forced himself to look up and meet Kankuro's face. His heart sank in an instant. His brother's eyes were full of naked fear and disgust. Gaara couldn't remember the last time that look was turned on him.
"What did you do?" Kankuro's voice was barely above a whisper, full of anger, disbelief, and hatred. Somehow it scared Gaara more than if he were shouting.
Gaara swallowed down growing tears. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't…"
But the apology wasn't enough.
"You really are a monster." Without saying anything else, Kankuro ran out of the kitchen, leaving behind his half empty glass of water.
O-O-O
Something had happened between Gaara and Kankuro
For the past week, Kankuro had been avoiding Gaara like the plague. Even during their training and missions, he stayed as far away as physically possible, not even making eye contact. He had been snippy and distant with Temari as well.
Gaara for his part was avoiding them both. He no longer talked to them, preferring to stay locked up in his room. Even when they bumped into each other in the hallways, he said nothing.
And while the silence had made living at home unbearable, it made missions almost impossible.
"Did you see any water when you were scouting, Gaara-sama?" Baki asked. They were setting up camp in the desert. Water, necessary as it was, would be hard to come by.
Gaara shook his head slowly, unblinking eyes meeting Baki's,
Temari bit her lip. Her brother's face was free of emotion. No life. No hatred. No love. A perfect mask she had not seen in years. It reminded her of Kankuro's puppets— creatures devoid of life yet more dangerous than any doll. In the desert night, his expression looked even more inhuman.
"Could you help us find some by digging it out?" Baki asked.
Gaara nodded, his expression unchanging.
Temari's eyes sought Kankuro next. He stood as far away from the group as physically possible. He threw Gaara frequent glances, shoulders tense and afraid.
Stuck in the middle, Temari shifted in place.
"Daybreak is coming," Baki said, ignoring the silence. "We'll rest during the day and set out after sunset. There should be enough water until we reach the next oasis, but it's best not to waste it. I'll take the first watch."
"Yes, sir," Temari answered.
Kankuro grunted his assent while Gaara remained silent.
Baki hummed, a tiny frown the only source of emotion. "Rest."
As soon as the orders were given, Gaara left their group, sitting far enough away that he appeared almost a speck in the distance. Kankuro did the same, settling down at a place exactly opposite to Gaara.
Temari bit her lip as she turned her head back and forth between her brothers. She hesitated, wondering who to talk to first. Both had said nothing during the mission and both had made life back home unbearable.
But Kankuro at least acknowledged her existence. She couldn't remember the last time she had heard Gaara's voice. Her feet carried her to Kankuro's side.
"What do you want, Temari?" Kankuro grumbled as soon as she reached him. He had his back to a rock, legs casually spread out with one elbow on his knee. But the tense tilt of his shoulders revealed his true feelings.
"Nothing," she lied. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Her younger brother snorted in disbelief but said nothing. He gestured with his head to the empty space at his side.
Temari took the unspoken invitation, sitting cross-legged on the cold sand.
They sat in complete silence. Many times Temari considered speaking, but her words failed her. Kankuro meanwhile seemed satisfied to glare out at nothing.
While the silence stretched on, Temari grew cold. Sunrise was still a few hours away and they couldn't risk starting a fire. Even the long sleeved shirt she wore wasn't enough to protect her. She shivered despite her best efforts.
"I have an extra cloak." Kankuro mumbled in a soft voice.
Temari jumped. "Y-you do?"
"Yeah." Kankuro reached into his knapsack and pulled out a long piece of fabric. Without meeting her eyes, he handed it over.
Temari took the gift, wrapping it around her shoulders and huddling under it with her knees up to her chest. "Thanks, Kankuro."
Kankuro only grunted in reply, still not meeting her eyes.
Seeing her chance, Temari scooted closer to her brother. When Kankuro remained, she shifted until their shoulders were almost touching.
"The stars look beautiful out in the desert," she commented.
Her brother was silent for a moment before replying. "I guess." His face was turned down to his knees.
"Even at night, you can't see so many in Sunagakure," Temari continued. "Do you think it's possible to count them all?"
Kankuro shrugged before pulling his legs closer to him, wrapping an arm around his knees.
Temari bit her lip. Kankuro's silence had moved beyond normal moodiness. And Gaara's equally bizarre behavior only compounded her suspicions.
"Did something happen between you and Gaara?"
The question got a reaction out of him. His hands tightened into fists over the fabric of his pants. "Why do you say that?"
Temari raised an eyebrow, unsure where to start.
"Well," she began. "Both of you have said nothing to each other in the past week. And I can't even remember the last time Gaara said even a single word to anyone."
Kankuro turned his head away from her, still silent.
Temari bit her lip before speaking again. "You can tell me if anything happened, Kankuro." She swallowed, knowing there was likely little she could do, especially if it involved Gaara or her father. "I might not be able to change anything, but I can at least listen." She kept her voice low, hoping neither Baki nor Gaara could hear.
Kankuro kept his back turned away. He stood so still he could have been a statue. Only his fluttering clothes revealed the human sitting next to her.
Temari opened her mouth, but closed it soon after. If her brother wanted to talk, he would. Pressuring him would likely serve only to drive him farther away.
Her patience paid off not long after.
"I thought he had changed," he said in a voice so soft it was almost impossible to hear.
"Who? Gaara?"
"I didn't know he would do that." Kankuro's voice cracked and he let out a sniffle.
Temari hesitated before placing a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"
Kankuro tensed under her touch. He turned back to look at her for a second before staring out at the desert once more.
"Gaara, he..." Kankuro swallowed and she had to focus to hear the next part. "He tried to kill me."
A shudder rolled down her back. Her lungs froze in place and her tongue became stuck to the roof of her mouth. Gaara? Trying to kill Kankuro? That couldn't be possible, could it?
Heart thundering in her chest, she glanced at Gaara sitting alone far away from them. As far as she could tell, there was no way he could hear their conversation.
"I don't think he really meant to do it," Kankuro admitted. "But... I..." His emotions spilled over as a sob escaped his throat. Unable to say anything else, he placed his forehead over his knees and pulled his legs closer to his body in a hug.
Shocked, Temari gaped at her younger brother, the words failing her. With a gulp, she squeezed his shoulder.
"It's okay, Kankuro," she said. "I… I understand."
With another sniffle, Kankuro raised a hand up to rub the tears away from his eyes. The simple movement made Temari's heart contract in pain. When was the last time she had seen her brother cry? Two years ago? Longer?
She reached her arm out, wrapping Kankuro in a hug.
He tensed for a second before letting himself be pulled in. With a hand over his mouth to contain his sobs, he rested his head on Temari's shoulder.
Temari pulled him closer, resting her cheek on top of his head. No longer able to hide his emotions, Kankuro began crying in earnest. She tightened her grip on him.
"I thought you wouldn't believe me," he muttered into Temari's shoulder, raising one arm to wipe at his face.
Temari said nothing at first. The small red-headed boy who spent his nights drawing alone, or tending plants, or reading books, would never hurt anyone. But Gaara wasn't just that boy.
How many times had she seen him covered in blood? Seen him laughing after someone's death? Seen first hand the destruction of the village when he lost control?
No, Gaara might in some ways be just a boy, younger and smaller than either she or Kankuro. But that wasn't all that he was, was it?
Temari shook her head, tightening her grip on her younger brother. "I believe you," she whispered in his ear.
Some of the tension seemed to escape from Kankuro. He huddled even closer to her, wrapping his arms around her torso in a hug.
Temari pulled her brother close until he was almost sitting on her lap. Unbidden, memories of the past resurfaced.
There had once been a stray dog that lived close to the Kazekage's home. She had fed it at times, stealing morsels from the dinner table and hiding them in her pockets. It had eaten the food directly from her hand, wagging its tail and allowing her to pet it between the ears. The dog had even allowed Kankuro, barely old enough to talk at the time, to pull on his ears and tail without complaint.
But one time, she had gone outside to feed it when it began to act strangely. It avoided the bowl of water, which she had refilled just that morning. It walked with a strange tilt, bumping into the walls of the alley. When she tried to approach it, it did not seem to recognize her. It had even growled at her.
Scared, she had run to her caretaker, who in turn had turned to the Kazekage. That was the last time she had seen the dog.
It wasn't until years later that she realized what had happened. The dog, once kind and lazy and gluttonous, had grown too dangerous to be allowed near others. Could the same thing happen to Gaara?
Temari hoped not. Gaara was her brother, a legacy of their mother. She had seen his kindness first hand, first in the Land of Rivers and then by living together. She had seen the care he took of his cacti, the detailed drawings that he was getting better and better at creating. Gaara was a nice boy.
But the dog had once been nice, too.
O-O-O
It was almost November and the chill of late fall was already in full swing. Lying underneath the kotatsu, Utakata stared at the ceiling, counting the lines and scratches.
With Kimimaro on a mission for the last month and his master locked in his office researching fuuinjutsu, he was bored almost to tears. Yet, the thought of standing up to do anything terrified him.
Besides, it was more fun to do nothing with other people. When was Kimimaro going to return? And when would he get to see Harusame outside of meals? There couldn't be that many things to learn about fuuinjutsu, could there?
As Utakata's boredom continued to grow, his mind drifted to more practical thoughts. It had been a few days since his last training session. And while his relationship with Saiken was already cordial, improving it would hurt no one. Learning how to use the jinchuuriki transformations could only make him stronger.
Even Fuu has a better grasp of being a jinchuuriki than I do.
The thought sent a sudden burst of motivation coursing down his spine. With a groan, he sat up and stretched his arms over his head. He had almost started to stand up, when the front door opened and a familiar presence entered.
"Father, nii-san, I'm home," Kimimaro's voice called out from the entry hallway.
With an excuse to keep procrastinating, Utakata sighed in relief. "I'm in the library," he yelled back.
Footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. The door slid open a moment later, revealing Kimimaro.
"I'm home, nii-san," Kimimaro repeated, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
"Welcome back." Utakata welcomed the boy back with a smile of his own, gesturing to the empty space on the opposite side of the kotatsu. "I'm guessing you're cold from outside."
Kimimaro grunted in assent as he crawled underneath the kotatsu. "It might snow in a few days," he mumbled, a definite hint of distaste in his voice.
"Let me make you some milk tea," Utakata said as he left the comfort of the floor and stood up. "Do you want anything else?"
"No thank you, nii-san." He placed his head inside his crossed arms on top of the kotatu and shook his head. "I had lunch so I'm not hungry."
Utakata patted the top of Kimimaro's head. "Well, I'll be back in a bit," he said. "Stay warm."
Exhausted, the boy nodded into his arms, not even bothering to look up.
Utakata suppressed a sigh. If he had to guess, Kimimaro had likely deprived himself of rest in order to return faster.
Arriving at the kitchen, Utakata turned on the kettle and took out the milk and sugar. As he waited for the water to boil, his mind began to wander.
It had been nearly two years since the chuunin exams in Konoha.
With nothing left to teach them, Utakata had returned to doing missions on his own, although there were often few options to choose from. With peace came few assignments, especially considering his status. And while at times he grew bored, sometimes he was glad for the lack of missions. What if he was sent out on assignments away from the comforts of home? No thanks.
After the water boiled, Utakata steeped the tea leaves, draining them soon after. While the drink was still hot, he added a dash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar. Carrying two cups of Kimimaro's favorite drink, Utakata returned to the living room.
"Here you go," Utakata placed a cup in front of the boy, still resting with his head buried inside his crossed arms.
Kimimaro sat up with a yawn. "Thank you, nii-san," he said before taking a sip.
As Utakata sat back down, he sighed. On closer inspection, it was clear that Kimimaro's eyes were bloodshot, dark bags underneath. His hair, normally so carefully combed and separated, was disheveled and oilier than usual. His clothes, normally pristine, could have used a good wash.
"How many times have I told you not to push yourself?" Utakata asked before taking a sip of his own drink, sweeter than it needed to be.
"I didn't push myself, nii-san." Kimimaro placed his cup back on the kotatsu, using more force than strictly necessary. "I just wanted to make sure I returned back home as early as possible."
"And you did that by pushing yourself more than you had to," Utakata retorted.
Kimimaro met Utakata's eyes in defiance. "It was an important mission, nii-san."
"And that required you to overexert yourself once the mission was already over?"
Kimimaro pouted. "I'm just a little tired."
Utakata sighed once more, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, chin inside his hands. "Well, if you're just a little tired, I guess you're well enough to help me make dinner."
Uncertainty flashed through Kimimaro's eyes, before his usual composure returned. "Of course, nii-san." He picked up his cup and took another sip. "It's the least I could do."
Utakata suppressed a snort of amusement. Why couldn't the boy admit he was tired and wanted to rest? Was he just being moody? He would soon become a teenager, after all.
And won't that just make me feel old?
Despite being only twelve, Kimimaro had already reached Utakata's shoulder and was nearly as tall as Harusame. His face was beginning to lose the baby fat as well, making him look significantly older than both Haku and Kasumi. And if his growth kept going, Utakata feared he would eventually surpass him. What would Utakata do if Kimimaro ended up taller than him?
They settled into comfortable silence as Kimimaro drank and Utakata placed his head down on the table's surface. Almost without meaning to, he began to doze off.
"So how was your mission anyway?" Utakata asked before sleep could claim him. "Everything work out all right?" A yawn escaped him despite his best efforts.
The boy shrugged. "It was fine," he said. "It was an escort mission to the Land of Tea. Not much happened."
Utakata hummed to himself. "Though I'm guessing you miss the heat now."
Kimimaro grimaced as he placed his nearly empty cup back on the table. "Why did Kirigakure have to get so cold?" he complained. "I was gone for only a few weeks!"
Laughter escaped Utakata's lips despite himself. "That's what happens when winter gets nearer."
"I know that," Kimimaro retorted. "But still..." He picked up his cup and drained it.
"At least we have a kotatsu now," Utakata said, caressing the table surface. "And you can take a hot bath after dinner. But for now, feel free to rest. I might take a nap of my own, to be honest."
Kimimaro's eyes became wistful at the thought of a bath. He nodded. "Thank you, nii-san," he mumbled as he lay on his back on the tatami and burrowed deeper into the kotatsu. Already, he was half asleep.
"Just rest for now," Utakata reiterated before letting out a yawn and lying down himself.
O-O-O
Following their nap and a bath, Kimimaro and Utakata made dinner together. While Utakata prepared the stock and sliced the meat, Kimimaro chopped the vegetables and tofu. By the time the sukiyaki was ready, the sun had set.
Harusame, who had left his office only once to welcome Kimimaro back, joined them right on time. With the pot bubbling in the middle of the kotatsu's surface, they ate.
"What are you even doing in there, sensei?" Utakata asked, taking a bunch of enoki mushrooms from the pot.
Harusame flashed him a smile that could mean anything. "Oh, just all kinds of things," he answered. "You'll learn about them in due time. I don't think you would understand my work with fuuinjutsu very well anyway."
Utakata suppressed a sigh. Was Harusame once again trying to get him to study fuuinjutsu? Hadn't Utakata mentioned enough times he didn't need it?
And the more Harusame insisted, the less Utakata wanted to learn. Why was it so important to know how certain squiggles could seal things into other things? Just because he had one of the offspring of the Sage of the Six Paths sealed inside himself?
"I don't need to learn fuuinjutsu, sensei," Utakata retorted. "I already know how to make a basic sealing scroll."
"And I taught you that at the age of ten," Harusame said, one eyebrow raised. "It's not good to let your skills become stagnant, Utakata-kun."
An uncomfortable feeling wormed his way into his stomach. Fear of falling behind came unbidden to his mind. How come Fuu was better at working with her bijuu than he was? If she kept the pace up, she'd join B, Han, Roshi, Yagura, and Yugito as perfect jinchuuriki.
"I'm not going to become stagnant, sensei. I've..." Utakata shifted in place in a vain attempt to get more comfortable. "I've been working on using the power of the Six Tails in jutsu more. Although... I should probably practice more than I currently am," he admitted.
Harusame scoffed. "You don't need to learn about that, Utakata-kun. "You can't trust in the power of a monster."
If Saiken ever paid any attention to Utakata's daily life, the bijuu would have likely been offended.
"The Six Tails is…" Utakata paused to consider how best to explain the personality of his unwilling roommate. "Not as bad as you might think, sensei. He's helped me out a few times. A few of my jutsu I can't even do without his help."
"You don't need help from that beast," Harusame reiterated. "Wouldn't it be better if…" Guilt flashed through his eyes for less than a second. "If the beast had never been sealed at all?"
"Who knows?" Utakata shrugged, taking a piece of tofu. "It is what it is."
"You wouldn't receive so much hate from the people of Kirigakure," the older man insisted. "You could live a free life."
"Free, huh?" Utakata raised an eyebrow. "Half of the people of Kirigakure are insane and the other half are only a bad day away from becoming so. Not being a jinchuuriki would change nothing. They'd probably hate me for my eyebrows or something."
The joke made Kimimaro chuckle as he picked up a bunch of noodles.
That had not been the reaction Harusame had intended. He frowned as he continued to eat.
"Anyway, I am very close to finishing my research," Harusame continued. "I'll show you as soon as it's ready."
"Well, I'm looking forward to it," Utakata said.
O-O-O
A/N: We're getting close to the endgame for the first part of this story. Things will get worse before they get better, so settle down for the ride. Hope y'all enjoy what's coming next!
Morket is the worst beta reader ever for gifting me Crusader Kings 3. But it balances out since I'm the worst writer ever for accepting a copy of Crusader Kings 3.
Also, this might be a weird thing, but I recommend reading this story on Archive of Our Own. The chapters there have links to fanart and I update chapters more often if I notice any spelling or grammar errors. But if you're dead set on using FFN, don't worry. I don't plan to stop updating on this site.
Next chapter: a visit to the hot springs.