Chapter 11
Temari (one week later, approximate time: 7:00 AM)
Temari walked into her and her brother's shared compound rooms, closing the wooden door behind her. She walked to the table and slid into a seat, the lights still off.
"Hey, you that tired from training already? We didn't even do that much!" Kankuro admonished, flicking the light switch.
An artificial glow that Temari neither felt nor acknowledged filled the room.
Temari didn't respond, too lost in thought. She remembered back, when she was younger. And Kankuro was younger. How they used to play together, in the sand box at the park—one of the sources of entertainment that were infinite in the desert. How they used to be a real family. Temari leaned her head into her hand, her elbow braced against the table. Kankuro, realizing what must be on his sister's mind, sobered himself.
How did it go so wrong so fast? Temari wondered.
She didn't even think Gaara remembered it—they were so young. She was only seven at the time, Gaara's age now. The sweet children they were—he was—as a family.
Where did he go?
Gaara* (approximate time: 9:00 AM)
Gaara never felt sleepy at night. As such, Gaara hadn't moved from his perch on the rooftop since the night before. Even if he did (feel sleepy, that is), he'd never sleep—Shukaku never allowing him to.
Hmmph. YoU'D ALwaYs Be AfrAiD tHaT I'D TaKe OvER. HuRT YoUR PreCiOUs YaSHaMarU.
He supposed Shukaku was right. But it was a fear he no longer had to worry about. They were all gone—everyone that cared—everyone that loved.
I could teach you sOmEThiNG, GAARA. SoMEtHiNG tO HeLp YoU SLeep, Shukaku giggled.
Gaara said nothing, but Shukaku understood. Shukaku, the demon, turned out to be one person who did understand him now. The silent consent to continue. Their quiet bond.
...
Gaara simply listened to Shukaku, absorbing the hand signs Shukaku described. Gaara didn't think he wanted to relinquish control over his waking moments quite yet—Shukaku taking over his body though powerful made it feel as if everything... was… burning—but it was… useful for the both of them.
The amount of people we hate we could destroy together. Those lies and their false humanity.
With wide eyes and a palpable hunger for the knowledge of the jutsu, Gaara learned in the mental cave of Shukaku's dwelling—a cave only real to the Jinchuriki that bore the demon's seal.
Gaara's fingertips tingled at the thought—the knowledge.
You exist only to curse this village, to kill them all, Gaara thought to himself.
Gaara repeated the hand signs mentally, one last time, and then opened his eyes to the blue sky.
A blue sky now that failed to ease the pain in his chest.
Katiya (approximate time: 9:00 AM)
Katiya arrived at the next village without a hitch. The last three squads of shinobi (Katiya wasn't sure if they were ANBU or not) appeared to be the last. She was now too far for an ordinary squad to reach her in time, meaning those pursuing her would have to be the elite of the elite shinobi—meaning veteran ANBU or worse. But, thinking back on what she saw a few nights previously through the eyes of her shadow clone, the Kazekage would have had his hands too full to send anyone powerful after her. And, she rationalized, Suna-nin's general lack of knowledge about water-style jutsu would play to her advantage.
She pushed the door to a small motel and diner open. It gave way with a loud, drawn out creak. The room inside, though artificially lit, was done so poorly. Dark recesses pooled in the corners of the building, and if the lack of customers were any indication, the place could have seen better times. Katiya stood at the doorway, unsure of entry.
An elderly bandy-legged man with a cane hobbled out of the back—the owner, Katiya assumed.
"Why, Kyoko, we have a customer!"
Katiya, feeling a bit more comfortable in the dingy diner, padded in slowly. "Kyoko", as it turned out, was the man's pet dog. The beige fuzz ball bounded forwards, pawing at Katiya's leg.
"Ruff!"
The dog wagged its tail happily.
Katiya rubbed the back of its head complacently, kneeling to do so. When she stood again, she asked conversationally, "Business always this slow 'round here?"
The man gave a raucous laugh. "Oh, you wouldn't have thought it were 'slow' few days ago! No, this place was all hustle and bustle—bunch of shinobi tearing through the spot tryin' to get to Suna!"
Katiya lifted a (mock) curious brow. "Is that so?"
"So many of them, we knocked out the generator tryin' to supply all them cold drinks, ain't that right, Kyoko! Them troops needed it!" The man nodded vigorously, "… Didn't stay too long, though," he muttered as an afterthought.
Katiya slid into a bar seat by the man, feeling more at ease at the man's story and personality. "Did they say why they were in such a rush? Must be an awful lot of them demanding cold drinks if they knocked out the generator."
Katiya was already fully aware of why the shinobi were called back, most likely by messenger hawk. It was because of Gaara. But she needed to know how quickly she needed to get out—and maybe even gather some information on how to slip out with the least amount of trouble.
The man gave her a sad smile. "Heh… those folks… was only a handful of them, really. But the way they eat? You'd think it an army. They knocked out the generators and I haven't got any customers since! Damned repairman's coming tomorrow, I think… Now, where are my manners? Name's Haruo. I'm the owner of this place. Don't suppose you want somethin' to drink, now d'you?" the man, Haruo said, changing the subject.
Katiya introduced herself as well. "Name's Akari," she said, lying easily, "and some tea would be nice, if you have it."
The man gave her a twinkling smile. "Tea, I can do! … Unless… that is, you want iced tea, that is," Haruo added over his shoulder suspiciously.
Katiya shook her head humorously at the change in tone. "Warm tea's fine."
Haruo returned the smile before he broke off muttering, "Sure, yeah… Iced tea… not so much…"
Temari (approximate time: 5:00 PM)
Temari and Kankuro walked back to their home from the Academy. An orange and red tinged sky from an early sunset. School was not yet in session—wasn't going to be for another week or so for the people and students to grieve and effect repairs. But as the son and daughter of the Kazekage, she and he had to show up early—to catalog damage and help out with repairs.
Kankuro was silent, unlike his usual self. It was the same reason why he had taken the news of their needing to return to the Academy with sadness, she realized. Because it was a reminder that some of his classroom friends had passed during that night. Temari allowed him to walk in silence. She didn't know what to say—what would help, how to help. The only person whose loss she truly felt was her mother's. Her mother—the one who used to tie her hair for her—those four bunches that made her stand out from everyone else. Her mother—a loss she had to deal with alone because Father was too busy.
She was never very close to her Academy-mates. She had only two friends, Yome and Sen—but she wasn't really close with them—there was always some secret she had to keep to herself to spare Suna an "additional threat"—or one she had to keep to herself to avoid alienating herself. But Kankuro had it slightly different, not being the firstborn child of the Kazekage and not needing to worry about intimidating everyone, she supposed.
She put her hands into the pockets of her informal and predominantly black day-to-day outfit complete with the holster on her back for her giant fan and shinobi pouches. She didn't know what to say. She didn't want to accidentally tear open more wounds.
So she remained silent.
Katiya (approximate time: 5:00 PM)
She didn't feel guilty, killing those men. She couldn't bring herself to, either. Not really. They made their choice, she rationalized. They wouldn't have hesitated to kill her, if the orders came through. Orders were orders, and survival was survival. And her survival outweighed their orders.
"Akari"—Katiya—covered her face with her arm while she laid on the hard futon of Haruo's motel.
It had been a long time since she killed, since she saw anyone killed. But it was in self-defense. They would not have stopped otherwise. They pursued her for over three days straight, through the night, not allowing her to rest while they switched and swapped to chase her. A fourth day without sleep would have meant her death. She would not go into Suna again, not for a long time. Not with the Kazekage still in power. She'd give the—her—victims' families that much—to not have to see the face of the girl who took their kids, lovers, and parents away.
Katiya rolled onto her side.
Nine shinobi's families. She could give them that much.
Temari* (approximate time: 7:00 PM)
Temari and Kankuro took their seats at the dining room table. Despite Gaara having been sent to live at the opposite end of the Kazekage's compound with the destruction of his uncle's place, they still had to share a dining room… for now.
He ate his food silently. Chewing it, not even looking up to greet his siblings.
The meal was a simple carrot and chicken broth soup. Neither Temari nor Kankuro moved to touch it.
Gaara* (approximate time: 7:00 PM)
Gaara vaguely remembered eating dinner with Yashamaru, once before. He remembered—he remembered asking Yashamaru why they'd get hungry. And Yashamaru had told him that it was so that they'd eat good food. It was a response that made sense at the time, since the food that Yashamaru made always tasted nice. But a response that no longer held true.
Gaara spooned the food currently before him into his mouth.
Gaara didn't feel hungry anymore. He knew it to be the same dish Yashamaru used to cook—that same dish he ate with him for dinner back then…
But the soup was tasteless. Bland and watery.
His siblings walked in. Like the food, he no longer felt anything for them. Like the food, they had turned bland and tasteless. Distance and time pulling them so apart.
Gaara was content to ignore them, but after a few moments, Kankuro stood from his seat to yell. "You! How—how can you just sit there?! Don't you know what you did? Don't you feel remorse for them—the people you killed?!" Kankuro shouted.
Gaara kept his eyes to his soup. Out of his peripheral view, he saw Temari lift her arm to calm her other brother, but Gaara's eyes narrowed in irritation. His attempt to ignore the both of them was failing. Neither of them cared. None of his "family" cared for him. His only purpose was to live for himself—prove his existence with others' deaths—their love for themselves too weak to keep themselves alive. Gaara remained silent.
"WELL!?" Kankuro demanded.
Gaara calmly scooped up another spoonful of soup.
"Shut up…" Gaara began, letting his slow and quiet speech wash over his siblings. He swallowed his spoonful of soup. Then he continued speaking in his eerily quiet, raspy voice that invoked the thought of one touching fine-grain sandpaper and wary ANBU agents with an intent to kill.
"... Or I'll kill you."
Temari* (approximate time: 7:00 PM)
Temari watched Kankuro freeze at the threat. She swallowed nervously. Plastering a small, compromising smile on her face, she guided Kankuro down to his seat to eat.
Come on, Kankuro. It's not worth it… Please, don't make this any worse than it has to be.
Only three months until spring, until Kankuro graduated from the Academy. Temari didn't know whether to be happy or afraid for her brother. On one hand, it was a milestone Kankuro deserved, and one both were looking forward to. However, with the news from their Kazekage, their father, they were to be teaming up with him—a thought to dread. It meant that the Kazekage now thought her and Kankuro old enough or powerful enough, maybe combined with Baki's supervision, to handle working with Gaara—or that the Kazekage was so eager for a new weapon (or team of weapons) to reconstruct Suna to its before-economic-depression glory that he was willing to risk his children.
Temari swallowed her own fears and nervousness—hiding it like she always did in public. At least, once they had taken a few base missions successfully, the chances of working with other teams or teammates increased. Working with Gaara is only temporary, she told herself. Anything to ease her nerves.
Temari rubbed her hand over Kankuro's back and murmured a few words of comfort to him. It was the least she could do as a sister.
…
Only when he had finished his dinner and left the table, were the two Sand Siblings finally able to enjoy their own dinner in their home in peace.