Chapter 326: Poignant

adj. evoking a keen sense of sadness or regret

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Kankuro's eyes widened as he glanced straight in Gaara's direction. The postponement of Gaara's match seemed to have intensified his struggle within himself. His teeth audibly clenched and creaked, his fingers dug deeper into his folded arms, and for one terrifying moment Gaara's eyes clenched tightly closed.

He had already planned to forfeit to keep his secrets for the invasion, but it seemed to also have an added benefit of ending this sham of an exam sooner.

"I forfeit," Kankuro called as calmly as he could muster, his eyes drifting up to the stands to see the Kazekage's censuring glower.

Temari gasped as she felt herself frozen in place. Panic scattered her thoughts as she fought against the invisible restraints. What was happening? How had he…?

"Here, I'll show you," came the bland reply of her spikey haired opponent. Slowly her head turned without her control. A feeling of violation seethed through her mind before despair and anger intermingled as she finally comprehended what was happening. Slowly her feet moved without her control, despite Temari's best effort to fight against the impulse.

"I forfeit," declared her opponent, a tired look glazing over his face. Temari bucked against his control more, rage blaring in her mind. Did he not even have the honor to finish her? She could concede that he had bested her, outplayed her strategy, but for him to give up? The feeling stung like sand scrapping into an open wound.

"Winner, Temari!"

The words of protest tangled up in her throat and caught on her teeth. She smashed her lips together as her eyes flashed towards her opponent as he talked with the blond brat that had rushed down after their fight.

"Temari!" shouted Kankuro from the observation deck, his sharp tone grounding her back in the present.

Silence permeated the area while Kagome cautiously paused before the torii. Her eyes scanning the area, searchingly looking for anyone or anything nearby, wondering if someone would come out to yell at her.

"Please forgive the intrusion," Kagome whispered as she politely bowed towards the crimson Torii. Her fingers gently caressing the weathered wood in greeting before continuing up the leafy steps.

Kagome's probing gaze traipsed from the branches scattered across the path, pausing on the spiderwebs collected in the torii's corners, before snagging on the peeling red paint of each torii. In her minds eye she was transported home. At the end of this path, she would be able to see Grampa sipping tea on the engawa, her mother would be sweeping the imperceptible dirt that had congregated overnight, and Souta would be juggling his soccer ball. Maybe even Inuyasha would…

Kagome sucked in a breath, heart hammering as she carefully climbed the last of the steps. She knew it wasn't home, she did, but even that knowledge didn't stop the tears from welling in her eyes as she took in the shrine. It was the closest thing to home she had seen since appearing in this strange era.

Gaara's eyes drifted away from the wall to glance back towards the arena. His opponent had arrived in a dazzling vortex of swirling leaves. A sigh of relief filtered through his mouth as he slowly unclenched his hands and unlocked his jaw. A thrum of fervor plucked through Gaara with the prospect of a strong opponent.

Mother howled in his mind, calling out for fresh blood. The howls echoed thunderingly in his mind and made him wince at her volume.

"Gaara? You remember the plan…?" started Kankuro, his tone was shaky with an emotion that Gaara couldn't place. Temari crashed onto the deck's floor, her hand gripping tightly onto her middle brother, a quailing look stopping the puppet user in his place.

Mother's answering laughter rang vociferously through his mind, as she wrestled control that forced his immobile feet to approach the arena below. Sand drifted from his gourd, surrounding him in anticipatory clouds, ready to respond at his command.

Gaara looked into his opponent's black eyes, a thrill of readiness and trepidation warred within him. He was impatient to fight but concerned that he would be interrupted before he could satisfy Mother's bloodthirsty pangs.

"Begin!" shouted the proctor zealously.

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