Chapter 6

Katiya (five months later, approximate time: 1:00 AM)

Katiya knew Gaara's control was improving. He was so much better than before. So much happier. Which was why she had to leave. Leave, before she was forced to take it all away.

Everything was almost in place.

She checked her surroundings. She was in an abandoned evacuation center, a hole, where she was going to stage one last training session before she left two days later. The hole, a little known alcove under a fake drain cover she discovered upon entering Suna.

The grate had been eroded shut, and the ladder leading down damp with mold. There was no light except for what was coming in through the grate. With no evacuation coming soon, the area was the perfect place to train a Gaara before slipping away into the tunnel she now knew led out to a rocky outcrop outside of Suna.

There was just one last thing to do.

Katiya (two days later, approximate time: 12:00 AM)

Katiya awoke near midnight, much earlier than her usual seven o'clock wake up. She only had three hours of sleep. She was tired, but there were some things worth missing sleep for. It was to her benefit to sleep the whole night, to prepare for the long journey ahead of her, but she had to do something more important first: saying goodbye.

She dressed quickly, but armed herself for war. Gaara might have noticed the change, but Katiya wasn't concerned about that. Pastel blue shin and forearm guards made their way to their places, matching in color to the belt she wore to meet the Kazekage. Katiya hadn't changed for bed, but slept in the same clothes she wore the day previously. She knew she might have had to move fast. Her baggy white long sleeve kimono-style shirt was tucked into her arm guards, which were atop bandages for extra protection against taijutsu users, same with her legs.

She added two smaller shinobi pastel blue pouches to the back of her belt, sliding them next to the large tan one already there. After a pause, she added a Storage Scroll sheathe the size of her forearm for medical supplies to the left side of her belt as well. She didn't consider herself too well-versed in medical ninjutsu, but she had to be good enough to patch herself up; no one else would do it for her on the run. The full moon would be her light out, and she'd leave a shadow clone with Gaara until nightfall, to keep up the appearance of her still being in Suna.

It had to work. Katiya didn't want to think about what would happen if it didn't, but she had to as a shinobi. It was the reason why this good-bye was so important.

At last, she donned her black fingerless gloves she wore for training and black standard shinobi sandal-boots, the new but well fitting ones she bought from the Suna-nin armor catalog. Her tinted goggles found their place on her forehead, in case she had to activate her Sharingan whilst running.

She climbed out her window and into Gaara's open one in the room beside hers. "Gaara. Come on, I've got something I wanna show you."

Gaara looked at her in bewilderment from his perch on his bed. "Where are we going? Isn't it dangerous out at night?"

Katiya smiled at him, even though she didn't feel it. "You're with me, you'll be safe. But this is something that I can only show you at night around here. But you'll have to be quiet or you'll wake the neighbors up."

Gaara looked uneasy at the prospect of going out at night, especially so close to the full moon, but he didn't know why. "But it's dangerous out there? Does Yashamaru know?"

Katiya nodded, not at all guilty for lying to the boy since it was for his benefit. "You'll be with me, don't worry."

Gaara's nerves rested, but he still got the sense that something was wrong. But this was Katiya, he could trust her. "Alright then."

Katiya had Gaara climb onto her back, on top of her knapsack, before leaping from building to building while using the Body Flicker Jutsu to break up her tracks. She ducked between a tight alley suddenly, pausing to undo the latch of the fake storm drain under some old crates, leading to an underground shelter for enemy raids. She carried Gaara in.

Katiya felt the rapid beat of his heart against her back, but she didn't say anything. It'll be fine. I'm here. I'm here, she thought, mentally reassuring both Gaara and herself.

"You wanted to show me this cave?" Gaara asked dubiously, upon arriving in.

The cave was an empty hollow, built into the bottom of the accountant building above, with copper pipes of sewage and who-knows-what running to and from the building. The room was one of the coolest places in Sunagakure at night, perfect for her purposes.

"No, silly, I wanted to show you this cool new jutsu I've been learning." Katiya dropped her bag onto the floor and held her hands out, parallel to the ground. She made no hand signs to conduct her chakra—it was all just with her mind and will. Slowly, the air began to churn and thicken, the damp from the underground walls pulling up and turning to mist. Katiya narrowed her eyes, then pulled up the water stored below the concrete floor. The water began to mix and liquify, from the mist, and then she was left levitating a medium-sized globe of liquid water in her palm, with a diameter of a large dinner plate.

"That's what you wanted to show me?" Gaara asked, slightly disappointed.

Katiya laughed, half nervous and half out of agreement with his disappointment. It was a boring jutsu, if a useful one. "It's a lot harder than it looks."

Gaara tilted his head. "You just brought me out here for that?"

"Nope. I brought you out here to practice that."

Gaara frowned. "But I can't use water ninjutsu. I don't know how."

Katiya smiled at him. "I know, but what you're going to do is similar in practice to this. You're going to make sand out of this rock."

Katiya pulled three rocks out of her pack, one roughened sedimentary, one a blackened igneous, and one lump of hardened clay. All were of different hardness, but were small enough for Gaara to work with. There wasn't enough time for a week of lessons, which this would've taken, but she had to make do.

"How?"

"Rocks are just giant chunks of sand, all squished together. You just need to unsquish them. Mist and water vapor is just water, all stretched and dispersed out. You just need to squish it together. They're opposites, but the end result is the same: something you can use to protect yourself," Katiya explained.

Gaara's eyes widened. Katiya smiled back. He held his hands out for the rocks. "Is this a game?"

"Yup. 'Who can do it better?'"

It was Gaara's turn to grin at her. "You're going to lose!"

…

Katiya sat down, not quite exhausted; she was careful not to expend too much energy, just trying to conserve as much as possible. It was now near noon, by Katiya's guess. Gaara was making good progress. The clay rock was already rubble, and he was using the (rather soft) particles he made to ground the harder sedimentary one into usable pieces. While grinding the sedimentary rock, he was also attempting to smash the igneous, splitting up the small handful of sand for maximum usage while still hopefully maintaining efficacy. It was the best Katiya could've hoped for from this lesson.

Twelve hours. The chakra in that sand of his must be remarkable, Katiya nodded, his mother would be proud.

Gaara let out a gasp of delight. "I did it!"

Katiya jumped up, genuinely delighted as well. "That's amazing!" she shouted, picking Gaara up from under his armpits, twirling him. "How did that feel?" she asked, putting him back down.

"Good." Gaara said, slightly monotone, but smiling.

Katiya tapped his forehead with her index finger, lightly. "Guess what, Gaara?"

"What?"

"You won," she whispered.

Yashamaru (approximate time: 12:00 AM)

Yashamaru watched Katiya leave at midnight, from his seat in the dining room. Silently, he wondered if he was making the right choice, with what he planned to truly do. What the Kazekage ordered him to do. His gut churned. His eyes itched. His hands wouldn't stop twitching, shaking.

He made sure not to tell the Kazekage—made sure no one told Kazekage that Katiya had planned to leave early—no one knew, just like the Kazekage didn't tell her his true plan. Just like the Kazekage didn't tell her when he would execute his true plan. But Yashamaru wasn't sure how much it'd help. The results would be… almost the same.

He sighed aloud, rubbing his face. There was no other option, no matter how much… how much it hurt him. He put his head in his hands, contemplating his options one last time. If Katiya were to take Gaara and run, the Kazekage wouldn't allow them to leave, and it'd become his job to take them both down. A mission that would've destroyed not only him, but also Katiya and Gaara both, the people he wanted to protect. If he were to resist the Kazekage's orders—fight the Kazekage, he'd end up dead—killed by his troops, who'd lose faith in him—or his troops, who'd do it out of fear of their Kazekage—or worse, to gain the Kazekage's alliance.

If he left with Katiya to run away with Gaara, it'd become his second-in-command to take him down, and although they were allies, Yashamaru knew they'd be merciless. It was in the rest of the ANBU's benefit for Gaara to be dead.

But he had to save them—at least someone—but at what cost?

He smacked his knee and jack-knifed up out of a rare moment of unfiltered anger. He hated that man. The man who married his sister, his… loving, caring, sister... The Lord Kazekage, his superior... The man who was forcing him to make a decision he didn't want to make—and yet had to—before someone else did with even worse results. He hated the Kazekage who forced this onto his newborn son all those years ago for—for—for "the good of the people".

Yashamaru began to pace the room. Why did he have to do this? Why him? Why him?!? WHY HIM!?! He dropped to his knees and bowed down. The room was still and silent, unaware of his internal battle.

He let out a tearless sob and a silent prayer. Karura. Please. Forgive me.

After a moment like that, Yashamaru stood, a shinobi mask snapping back in place. He had a letter to write.

Gaara (the next day, approximate time: 2:00 PM)

Gaara didn't say anything, his eyes averted. They had visited one of the shops Katiya frequently brought him to, the one where mostly only elderly civilians went to during the cooler part of the day (or in other words, not at the time they were there). It was also one of the few shops Katiya was in favor with, one that was at least alright with Gaara's presence.

"Katiya, what's all this about?" he asked quietly.

Katiya fixed her eyes on the top of his head. She hesitated and then spoke. "I have to go soon."

Gaara looked up in shock. "Go? Go where?!?"

"There are some bad men coming after me, Gaara." It was as close to the truth she was willing to get without worrying him—or traumatizing him.

"Who?!? I—Yashamaru—could help you!"

Katiya gave Gaara a sad smile. "He is, that's why I have to leave. He's trying to protect me, protect you. That's why you have to do exactly what he says."

"B-but why do you have to go now? Why can't he protect you here?"

"There are bad men here, Gaara, a lot of them. You know what that's like—you've seen them, or at least know they exist. Yashamaru's not strong to enough to stop all of them, which is why I have to go."

Gaara's eyes began to water, a frown forming on his lips. Gaara tilted his head inwards to his chest. Katiya put her hand over his, sensing his emotion. A light touch, one typically seen between siblings. The two had known each other for at least a year, and lived with each other in the same house. She was the closest "sibling" he had, and she was his only non-biological one. His only friend, besides Yashamaru. She was also, strangely, the only one able to touch Gaara. Or at least, the only to have tried for a long, long time.

"Don't worry, Gaara. If all goes well, you'll see me soon."

Gaara looked at her, hope in his eyes. "A few days?" he had asked.

She didn't answer his question, not directly. Technically, she had already gone—Gaara interacting with a mere shadow clone. "It'll be gone and over before you know it. You'll see me again. I promise," she told him.

Gaara sniffled a happy sniffle. Just a few days, over before one knew it had even started. A promise was a promise.