Free Frozen Yogurt

One month later, Aiya had fallen under her niece's spell the moment she'd softly wrapped her tiny fist around her finger, cooing. The little pea had inherited her mother's dark locks, delicate features and slightly darker skin, but its eyes remembered every one of its father's, of a hypnotizing shade of seafoam green. Aiya couldn't detach her gaze from little Karura's face, enamored.

"You're not tired of holding her?" Himari asked from the couch, holding back a yawn.

"I don't mind. She's lighter than a feather."

The little pea hadn't been an easy birth. Even after two weeks of forced rest in one of the hospital's spacious rooms, her friend looked as if she hadn't properly slept for a whole year. Wrapped in a heavy plaid, Himari's eyes fought to stay open, rimmed with dark circles. Her husband wasn't home tonight, held up by the council.

"How's Kankuro?" Himari suddenly asked.

Aiya frowned. "How should I know?"

"You haven't seen him lately?"

"No, I haven't."

Himari's face contorted into a displeased expression. But as soon as it appeared, the emotion disappeared without leaving a trace on her delicate features. Aiya didn't linger on the subject, more than happy to avoid it. "The hospital is lonely without you, Hima," she pouted.

A small smile lightened up her friend's tired expression. "I miss it too. But don't worry, I'll be back before you know it."

The blond whined loudly. "Not before I die of boredom. I swear, the newbies are slowly killing whatever patience's left in me. I'm not made out to be a good teacher like you, Hima."

Her friend repositioned herself on the sofa. "Actually, I've got a favor to-"

The doorbell rang loudly, interrupting her. Aiya's eyes widened and with a panicked stare, she checked the baby's asleep form, praying that the doorbell sound hadn't startled her. It'd taken them at least an hour to finally put to sleep the little pea.

Himari pounced off the sofa with reflexes only a trained shinobi had. "I'll get the door."

A few minutes later, the man that'd been shamelessly invading her thoughts these last weeks appeared into the living room, and her lips reacted accordingly to his presence – twisting into a childish pout.

He smirked at her sour expression. "Oh, please. Don't hide your joy at my sight, pixie."

"That nickname's getting old, clown face."

Holding a figurine in his right hand, he stepped further into the living room's space. It suddenly felt as if all the room's oxygen had subsided. His smell infiltrated every cell of her organism in a mix of wood, lavender and salty sweat. According to Temari, he'd been training a lot more since he'd been out of the hospital. And back to her old habits, she'd been carefully avoiding running into him these last two months. It hadn't been an easy thing. He dropped the wooden puppet near the other ones he'd brought over the weeks.

She raised a brow at the new addition to the puppetry's collection. "You know she's too young to play with any of them, right?"

"She'll eventually grow up." Stepping closer, he extended his arms. "Can I hold her?"

"No, she's sleeping," she declined. Responding to the tightening of her hold, the little pea stirred in its sleep. Aiya loosened her grip, glaring at the source of the baby's agitation. "You'll wake her up."

"Since I'm her favorite uncle, I doubt she'll be mad to see me."

"By that, you mean you're her only uncle."

He slowly lowered his arms. Every trace of amusement left his face, the corner of his lips reverting to a straight line. "You've been avoiding me."

The cold accusation in his tone froze her in place. A deep shade of blush covered her cheeks, and Aiya fought with her inner self to not look away from his dark, accusing irises. She shrugged her shoulders.

"I've been busy."

"Have you?"

Her mouth opened slightly; her lips drier than the desert itself. Before she could reply, Himari stepped into the room with a tray full of sweets in her hands. Aiya suddenly realized that the puppeteer's warm breath was grazing her neck's bare skin, his tall figure so close to her she couldn't fill her lungs with anything else but him. With the sleeping baby in her arms acting like a shield, Aiya took a step back.

"I'm happy you've decided to swing by, Kankuro," the dark-haired woman softly declared.

"Yeah, I'm glad to see that you're alright, Hima." Aiya didn't miss the softening of his tone, the one he'd exclusively use with her. A strange emotion stirred in Aiya's chest, but she swiftly ignored it. "I won't be long, though. I've got to hit the shower."

Without an additional word, he exited the room. They soon heard the door closing, and a long silence stretched between them. Himari's questioning glare landed on her, and her eyes were asking for an explanation.

"I'll get going too," Aiya declared, choosing the cowardly option. She didn't have the strength for a heart-to-heart conversation, right now. "It's my turn to do the grocery shopping this week."

She carefully put down her niece into the cradle. The baby didn't even stir in its sleep, adorable. The little pea would be keeping a part of heart, for sure. With a pinch in the chest, she gave a last stroke at the baby's soft hair. She'd been anxiously waiting for a letter from her homeland ever since they'd sent the files. After a week, she'd decided to shove her guilt down into a dark spot of her mind, and to enjoy whatever time she'd left in Suna.

"I've got a small favor to ask you." Himari's soft voice interrupted the room's silence. "Could you replace me at the Academy tomorrow? I was supposed to teach a class, but I have an appointment with Karura's doctor."

Aiya hesitated. "You know I'm not that great with kids, Hima. Can't Temari do it?"

"It's a part of the supplementary courses I implemented in the Academy's program. It requires someone with healing skills," her friend explained. "Please? It's just a one-hour class. You'll simply have to show them some basic techniques."

"Fine," the blond grumbled, unable to resist her friend's begging eyes. "I'll do it."

"Thank you, Aiya. You're the best."

She wasn't feeling like the greatest of friends, knowing she'd soon have to betray the one that had welcomed her so warmly on her arrival. The guilt had been eating her for a while, now. She simply chose to ignore it, but it wasn't the easiest of things.

"I have to go," she smiled tightly. "Daisuke is going to be mad if I don't come back with something edible for supper."

"Are you alright, Aiya?"

She paused. "Me? Of course, why?"

"I don't know. You've been distant, lately."

Aiya made a mental note of her friend's comment. She needed to do better. The last thing she wanted was to worry her friend. She already had a lot on her plate with a newborn.

"I've taken a lot of shifts at the hospital, that's all," she brushed it off. "Don't worry about me, Hima."

She relaxed. "Okay, take care."

"I'll see you later. Get some rest, alright?"

The next morning, twelve pair of eyes were intently looking at her. Aiya almost begged the Academy's instructor to not leave without her, a bit panicked. She didn't have the energy to handle a class of overexcited kids. She'd barely slept last night. Kicking off her shoes, she dug her painted toes into the warm sand of the training ring. She took a deep breath, about to start her introduction, when a familiar voice interrupted her.

"What are you doing here, pixie?"

Her blood turned into the coldest of ice in her veins. She froze. Some of the children chuckled at the ridiculous nickname. Excited whispers rose in the air as Kankuro stepped into the training ring, carrying an inanimate puppet on his back. She hadn't expected to see him. She quickly recomposed herself, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm Himari's replacement for the class," she replied. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm the second teacher of this class."

Himari hadn't mentioned that detail, last night. Groaning, Aiya mentally cursed her friend for knowingly omitting to mention this information. Himari probably knew she'd never have accepted to fill in, otherwise. Coming up to her, Kankuro dropped his puppet on the ground.

"Will it be a problem, pixie?" he murmured to her ear. Her heart was pounding loudly in her chest. She rolled her eyes, and a smirk appeared on his lips. He swiftly turned his body to face the class. "Alright, we'll start with the basics."

For the first part of the class, Aiya silently observed the children's efforts at trying to hit Kankuro's moving puppet by throwing a kunai. From time to time, he'd gently correct a student's posture or encourage them whenever they'd miss their target. The children's eyes were glistening with unmoderated admiration towards the puppeteer, and Aiya deduced that it was not the first time the children benefited from his lessons. Kankuro suddenly released the tension in the chakra threads attached to his puppet.

"Miss Sakido is a very talented nurse at Suna's hospital," he declared to the class. "And today, she'll show you a few healing tricks."

One of the children, a little girl with two braids, promptly raised her hand in the hair. "Is she the one that fixed your leg, Kankuro-sensei?"

For a moment, their eyes locked. Aiya adverted her gaze first. The blond uncrossed her arms, and took a few steps forward while Kankuro simply smiled at the girl's question.

"Yes, she is."

"She looks like a princess," murmured one of the boys.

Aiya smiled lightly. She'd chosen to wear a light shade of pink on her lips to match her nails. She'd also braided her hair, and attached them into a crown around her head.

"She does," agreed Kankuro.

Her smile faded. She hadn't expected the puppeteer to add anything to the little boy's comment, except maybe a sarcastic retort. Aiya cocked her head to the side, ready to meet the mocking smile of the puppeteer, but there wasn't a single trace of mockery in his expression.

"Is she your girlfriend, Kankuro-sensei?" asked another child.

Aiya almost choked on her own saliva. Kankuro's eyes widened slightly, while she tried to hide the sudden blushing of her cheeks. The puppeteer scratched his throat.

"It's enough with the personal questions, kids."

The children had started to argue with the puppeteer, teasing him. Meanwhile, Aiya's hands formed a series of hand signs – ones she'd seen her mother do a thousand of times. It used to be her favorite jutsu, younger.It's all about the inner strength of the Healer, my little bird.

"Forest of Butterflies," she murmured. "Release."

In her hands, butterfly's wings started to detach themselves. Slowly, her forearm's skin glowed a light of a gentle gold. Then, the golden butterflies spread their wings into the air, flying around. Mesmerized, the kids extended their hands up to the sky, waiting for the butterflies to lay down on one of their fingers.

"It's so… warm," whispered a child.

Soon, a dozen of butterflies were twirling around them. Each flapping of wings released a pinch of golden dust. It suddenly smelled of springtime, with its blooming flowers and its wet grass. The children were laughing, chasing the butterflies around. Kankuro walked up to her, his eyes locked to one butterfly attached to her braided crown. His dark gaze landed on her, and his fingers trailed over her cheek, lighter than a feather's stroke.

"Your skin is glowing."

A butterfly landed on one of the puppeteer fingers, right over a small cut, and slowly disintegrate. The cut disappeared along with the butterfly, fully healed as if it'd never been there. Impressed, Kankuro's eyes widened slightly.

"I've never seen a jutsu like that," he admitted. Then, a teasing smile stretched his lips. "Maybe you really are a magical creature, after all."

She smiled sadly. "My mother taught me. It was one of her clan's jutsus."

Aiya bit her tongue. It'd slipped out of her mouth. She hadn't meant to mention her mother. She rarely spoke about her. It hurt to simply think about her. About how she must have disappointed her. How she'd messed up everything. The butterfly in her hair stirred, sensible to her change of mood. But she couldn't push away the wave of sadness that overcame her. The guilt, the shame, the regrets.

"I'm sorry about your parents."

Surprised, her eyelids fluttered. She'd once mentionned her mother, but she'd never spoken about her father. Never. Not even to Himari. He couldn't meet her questioning glance. When she didn't let go, he sighed. His hand slowly fell to his side.

"I've read your application form."

She stiffened. Cold shivers ran down her spine and for a moment, she felt as if her blood had really turned into ice. If he suspected something, he didn't show it. The form was mostly filled with lies. But she'd also intertwined a part of the truth to them. She hadn't lied about some things like her parent's deceased status. Or her age. Aiya carefully thought about the reaction she needed to adopt.

"It's private information," she replied, truly upset. "You shouldn't have access to it."

"I'm a member of Suna's Council, remember? And it's not like I wanted to read it," he defended himself. "I just happened to coincidentally fall on it. I got curious."

"You could have just asked me, if you had questions."

"Would you have answered me?"

She huffed. Probably not. "You really are a pain in my ass."

He smirked; she felt the urge to punch him. Alongside, they watched the children as they innocently marveled about the butterflies. She stepped a bit in front of Kankuro, taking advantage of his tall body's shadow to hide from the sunrays. Behind her, his voice rattled against her skin, warmer than the hot sand under her feet.

"I feel like there's a lot I still don't know about you, Aiya Sakido."

She bit her bottom lips, frowning. She'd make sure that it stayed that way.

"Let's be clear. I only accepted to come because of the free frozen yogurt."

Kankuro's lips stretched into a smirk. "Of course."

After they'd dismissed the class of overexcited children, Kankuro had offered to go eat at the new frozen yogurt's place that'd recently opened near the Academy. A little before noon, the sun was already burning the village's inhabitants, incredibly hot. Fortunately, a tree protected them from the harsh sunrays with his long branches casting a cool shadow over their bench. A hot gush of wind swung her ponytail, and Aiya momentarily wished to jump into a pool of frozen yogurt to cool down.

"How's your leg?" she inquired.

"Better," he replied, his fingers unconsciously hovering over the region of the former burn. "The frozen yogurt is a mean to thank you, actually."

"You really know the way to a girl's heart."

"You make it sounds as if it's easy," he replied jokingly. "Girls are complicated."

She snorted. "You're starting to sound like your brother-in-law."

Aiya stuck the small spoon in her frozen yogurt, shifting to sit with her legs crossed on the bench. Lady Kiyo's words about the journal article suddenly popped into her mind. She'd also overheard some nurses complaining about it, disappointed that the Kazekage's brother wasn't available anymore. Rumors said he hardly flirted anymore, no longer offering a wink or flirtatious remarks to the ladies who crossed his path.

"I bet you're making your girlfriend really happy."

Her hand froze mid-air. Did I really say those words out loud? A strange emotion flickered in his eyes, and Aiya didn't have the time to decipher it before he lifted his head up to look at the sky. She couldn't stop herself from discreetly contemplating his side-profile. The purple markings accentuated his harsh features. They were precisely done, without even a smudge.

"Last time I checked, I didn't have any girlfriend," he retorted. His gaze returned to her. He nonchalantly stretched his arm across the back of the bench. A smile danced on the corner of his lips. "Have you been reading some trashy articles about me, pixie? If you're interested about my romantic life, you can always ask."

Maybe she'd been on the wrong track about the girlfriend part. She should have known better than to listen to stupid rumors.

"I'm not interested in your life, clown face," she scoffed. Aiya rolled her eyes at him, annoyed by the fact that they were actually having this conversation. And by the fact that she wasn't ready to let go of the subject. "But you sure danced awfully a lot with that pink-haired girl from Konoha at Himari's wedding. It was misleading."

"But I also danced with you."

Something fluttered in her chest. Suddenly, her heart didn't recall how to correctly beat. Dancing seemed too much of a big word to describe what they'd done at the wedding. They'd mostly argued on the dancefloor as she'd deliberately stomp on his feet. They had attended two weddings together – his sister's and her best friend's, and both times they had found themselves dancing together. The first time had been a request from his sister, but the second time... She stiffened. No, it couldn't be. Sitting on the park's bench, Aiya tried to hide the blushing of her cheeks by taking another spoonful of frozen yogurt. The citrus' taste invaded her mouth, bittersweet. It used to be her mother's favorite flavor. A taste of ashes filled her mouth at the thought, and she suddenly lost her appetite.

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're making that face again."

"What face?" she huffed.

He raised his hand toward her face. The tip of his finger brushed the space between her eyebrows. "Right there," he explained. "You have a wrinkle. And sometimes, you look so… angry."

Under Kankuro's stare, she felt naked. Vulnerable. Her fingers lightly grazed the space between her brows, the skin still burning from his previous touch. A lump lodged itself in her throat. Briefly closing her eyes, she swallowed it. She couldn't crumble now.

"My mother used to take us out for frozen yogurt on the last day of the month."

Her lips twisted into a faint imitation of a smile, one that wouldn't be enough to fool him.

"You rarely mention her."

Because I don't deserve to. "I haven't been a good daughter," she muttered. The words started to flow out of her mouth as if she'd been confessing to a priest. "My dearest wish would be to see her one last time. So that I-"

You're as crazy as they say. You're just a crazy witch! Her vision blurred and for a second, her mother's chagrined expression appeared before her eyes. I won't become like you, mother. I'm done. Her vision cleared up. She'd said too much. Still, admitting it out loud made the knot in her stomach lurched slightly. Their gaze briefly met, and Aiya mentally thanked him for not pushing the conversation further. She didn't protest when he stole her spoon to take a bite of her frozen yogurt. It'd started to melt under the sun.

"How come you don't have a boyfriend?" he changed the subject as if he'd felt her discomfort. When she threw him a blank stare, he elaborated. "The nurses are real gossipmongers in the hospital's corridors. I've learned a lot of interesting stuff about you."

Her lips froze into a thin line. She hoped he hadn't heard about her altercation with the libidinous doctor or how she'd not so accidentally spilled a soup on a crabby patient. Smiling, she innocently batted her long eyelashes stolen straight from Bambi's eyelids at him.

"You shouldn't listen to the hospital's gossip, you know?"

His dark gaze slowly trailed down on her, from her purple crop top to her nails sharper than a shark's front row of teeth. "I have no trouble believing the rumors saying that you're popular among some of your colleagues," he replied casually.

Her heart fluttered. There wasn't a hint of mockery in his voice, and her breath caught in her throat. Her body swayed towards his, irretrievably drawn to him. Under his gaze, she felt as if she was melting. A flock of butterflies stirred in her stomach. With a great inspiration, she reduced them to mush.

"I have to go. My shift starts at four," she excused herself. "Thank you for the treat."

She didn't wait for his answer, already jumping on her feet. In a second, she'd left him on the bench as she headed straight for the hospital.

Out of breath, she reached the hospital's entrance with dark spots of sweat under her armpits. She hadn't been able to calm down her heart's irregular rhythm, internally dreading the prospect of going into cardiac arrest. She rushed into the staff room, locking herself in one of the changing cabins. She leaned her forehead against the door. Her fingernails dug into her palms until the pain buried the whirlwind of conflicting emotions in her chest. Closing her eyes, she sighed.

I can't.