Chapter 22
Katiya (approximate time: 8:00 PM)
Kabuto ended up moving Jugo to a new ward after that fight, the one he was in now closed for repair and likely to be relegated for less deadly prisoners. Easy, considering he was unconscious. But she couldn't care less about that. Leaving the Northern Hideout, she and Kabuto separated—her to go with the mission supply group to a region eastward, and him to a different laboratory closer to Konohagakure.
She breathed shallowly, careful not to damage her lungs further as she resumed traveling. In the dark, Guren looked to her with what could have been interpreted surprise that she came out alive and perhaps disguised respect.
But the living part itself was what mattered more to Katiya.
She placed a hand over her damaged ribs to administer medical ninjutsu while moving, directing chakra to her hand and chest to speed up the healing process artificially, moving cells into place and using her energy to hold them there. Their slower pace at night being what allowed her to focus her chakra as they moved. She didn't want to be stabbed by her kill-happy teammate for slowing them down. Nor did she want to render herself comatose by using improper chakra control while running with broken ribs and trying to heal said broken ribs at the same time.
The faint whoosh of medical ninjutsu and the ripples of energy only visible to the trained eye were the only things that indicated their position moving away from the Oto-classified Northern Hideout.
Temari (two days later, approximate time: 3:00 PM)
They arrived back in Suna mostly unscathed. Their first C-rank, successful. They had run nonstop for the last two days to get back to Suna as soon as they did, avoiding any other mishaps. Their speed was unprecedented for genin. Temari met the gazes of the other Suna-nin who stood watch at the wall of their border, taking note of the whispers she heard passed around. Snippets of conversations.
"It's that team—with him."
"Is that blood? Weren't they on a C-rank?"
"Their team killed people on a C-rank?"
"That's brutal—you sure they're mostly genin?"
Temari breathed, straightening her back. They went on a C-rank, and yes, people died on it but their mission was successful. They were shinobi and those people that died were robbers. They deserved it, impeding the mission like that. Temari lifted her chin and smirked at the shinobi that spoke. Shinobi never showed their true emotion, and she had to retain her control over the situation—her reaction to the rumors now spreading. What they did was in favor of Suna—there was no reason for her not to smile.
The whispers continued.
"That's Temari—she's like a chunin—is she smiling?"
"She's the daughter of the Kazekage—they all are—treat them with respect."
"Hey, I know her, she went on a mission with me to observe, one heck of a shinobi."
"Hell yeah, I don't wanna get on the bad side of a what, ten-eleven year old who can smile after being covered in blood like that."
"You're kidding right? You see that? He's even worse—were you here when all hell broke loose 'cuz of him?"
Temari's face froze. Floating sand caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Her smile became a grimace. Gaara was becoming agitated from where he was, walking back into their home space in front of them. His killing intent stirred the air. The rest of the team paused in their steps.
Bad. That's bad.
Baki noticed the wells of chakra coming out of the boy the quickest, being the closest well-experienced jonin. "Hey! You! Close the gates!" he yelled over the whispers. Some of the Suna-nin scrambled to comply, Baki, one whose orders were to be respected.
But it was sadly too slow.
Several things happened at once. Four tendrils of sand whipped out of the ground beside Gaara to swing at the people above them on the top of the wall. Temari swung her fan heavily to bat one away. Kankuro dived. And Baki made a wind wall in front of Temari and the shinobi she had moved to protect. Someone tackled the last shinobi that spoke—Gaara's main intended target—to hide him.
Temari spun to face the direction of the shinobi who spoke behind the safety of Baki's wind wall. She yelled over the rush of air. "Don't you know any better than to respect the family of the Kazekage? You're lucky to still have your life!"
Gaara let out a loud growl, still audible over the torrent. The sand tendrils he formed had yet to recede. Someone let out a whimper.
"Gaara! That is enough—the mission is over—control yourself! Don't you dare spill blood on Suna soil!" Baki yelled over the uproar, still maintaining the wall.
Don't you spill blood so close to Father, she knew Baki-sensei meant.
The shinobi who had spoken badly about Gaara crawled to recede behind someone else. Gaara growled louder. Temari took a stronger defense stance and Kankuro took a position next to her, a hand on his puppet.
"Get that gate closed!"
The gate behind them compliantly closed with a thud. Temari and her brother took slow side steps towards Suna, giving Gaara a wide berth. The whispers had ceased and tendrils fell back down into the desert floor, small ripples of sand still forming—the sand close enough to docile yet again. The wind wall fell. Gaara's eyes were wide with an expression Temari could not name, but besides the sand stirring, he was still.
Next to Temari, Kankuro gulped. Temari exchanged worried glances with her sensei, who moved past Gaara and began to walk deeper towards Suna—maintaining as wide a berth as the walls allowed. Temari followed him, keeping a corner of her eye over her shoulder and another on her actual brother.
Katiya (approximate time: 3:00 PM)
"So what made you decide to join Orochimaru?" Katiya asked nonchalantly.
They were en route back from the supply shops… and the first black market ones she had ever physically been to. But despite learning quite a bit about the network of Oto hideouts and allies, she had yet to learn much about its people.
Guren gave Katiya a look of indignation before attempting a hair flip with her (bunned-up) amethyst hair. "You make it sound like it was something to think about—what else would you do when met with such power?"
Katiya raised a single brow. One other possible response jumped to mind, which of course, was the one most sane people jumped to. Considering her last interaction with "power" and her just recently healed… everything… She ignored her. "And you, Ryuteki? Was it the same for you?"
Ryuteki pursed her lips, "I can't say it was," she replied.
"Oh?"
"I'm an old holdover back when Lord Orochimaru was still working for Konoha—reassigned from Root ANBU," she explained briefly.
Katiya blinked. That… should have been a long time ago by her count and should have led to her being recalled after Orochimaru left Konoha. "So… I take it you defected on your own will, then?"
Ryuteki gave Katiya a small emotionless smile that seemed to portray the sentiment of "oh, you poor dumbass." Katiya maintained a neutral expression, waiting for a proper verbal response.
"Lord Orochimaru is still quite in favor with the head of Root ANBU, Danzo Shimura—they have quite the agreement with ideology. It wasn't something Lord Orochimaru's exile was likely to change. When he was exiled, I was simply ordered to accompany him."
Katiya hummed in understanding. So Konoha's having an internal issue as well, she noted, adding to her own (outdated) knowledge of Konoha. Verbally, she asked a follow-up question, "And you receiving Orochimaru's curse mark?"
Ryuteki shrugged. "Everything I do is in service of the Root, and by extension, Konoha," she said impassively, "I was assigned to Orochimaru in exchange for an operation of Danzo's. To make him stronger for Konoha. Likewise, since I survived receiving my curse mark, I am simply doing the same."
"And if it were up to you?"
"I'm sorry?"
"If it were up to you entirely, joining Orochimaru and getting a curse mark, would you do it?"
Ryuteki replaced her small simpering (yet oddly dead) smile. "I don't see why not."
Kankuro* (the next day, approximate time: 4:00 PM)
Kankuro knocked on Temari's door politely. "Hey… I-I wanted to let you know I'm going to be taking an off-the-books mission for the next day or so."
Temari wrenched open the door swiftly. Off-the-books missions were not uncommon to Suna-nin, especially ever since the economic depression, but they were generally regarded as side personal missions done on behalf of Suna rather than an employer. They often went unpaid. But there was no real reason to Temari why Kankuro, a newly made genin would be on one.
"It's more of a personal one than anything else—within Suna, so probably equal to a D-rank if it were to be recorded," Kankuro said to Temari's inquiring face. "No assassinations or anything of the like… It's more for me and the Puppeteer Corp than anything else—though I don't think Father would mind if it were to go successfully."
"Well, any unclassified info you can give me?... Besides that? What you just said isn't exactly assuring considering…"
Gaara.
Kankuro inhaled. He hadn't really considered Gaara and their team arrangement when he said he was opting to do the not-really-mission mission. But either way, it wouldn't matter—if it were successful, it'd be like nothing really happened, and the mission itself was only going to take, likely, less than a day. Travel, being the most extensive part for him.
"I'm going to seek out Lady Chiyo on behalf of the Puppeteer Corp."
Temari was silent.
The Puppeteer Corp had been trying to persuade Lady Chiyo to join the Council so that there would be someone more lenient on the Kazekage yet knowledgeable about Suna's inner politics on the aforementioned Council for years. Yet every time, she declined. They hoped that Kankuro, being the son of the Kazekage would have better luck, but there was another reason why Kankuro wanted to seek her out—a personal one—now, of all times.
Father knew him to skip tutoring sessions with the Puppeteer Corp but in reality, he was still the top-rank puppeteer apprentice. Every session he skipped was merely one even his sensei from back in the Academy days didn't find necessary to tutor for once he already grasped the basics. But there was still so much Kankuro found he needed to learn in light of that day.
Kankuro continued, "I-I can use the extra training… stuff that I'm not going to get from Baki, not really… puppeteer stuff… Things I can't exactly learn on the field by getting shot at or thrown around, or figure out by myself… things higher than what my tutor—"
"Go."
Kankuro jumped, not expecting that response so soon. "Uhh…"
Temari leaned on her door frame. "Go on your mission. Kankuro, I know you can't learn much from Baki-sensei, you've got an earth affinity. He doesn't. Go," she said, placing a hand on her brother's shoulder. "We can use all the training we can get."
Kankuro smiled at that. "Thanks, sis."
Temari withdrew her hand, forming a small smile of her own. "See if you can get her to join the Council too, while you're at it. She's an elder jonin with a pretty good reputation. Not to mention she has a place with them—if she can join the Council, she might be able to get the daimyo's support back."
Kankuro nodded, understanding. It was also what the puppeteers told him. "I'll try. She hasn't left her estate in years though, so we'll see. Wish me good luck!" Kankuro yelled as he retraced his steps out.
"—Luck!"
…
Kankuro walked away from the Kazekage compound quietly. He didn't have to tell his father about the personal mission, being within Suna and during the three-day (or longer) off-time most shinobi were allowed to either train up or rest. And Baki said something about remaining near Suna for the entire week. He wasn't going to take that long. And Lady Chiyo had to agree.
Temari (approximate time: 4:10 PM)
Temari moved back to her desk after her brother left, to file her mission report with a sigh. Kankuro's initiative to take more training only reminded her that she too, needed more of it in order to begin taking on whatever future missions her father was going to send her on. If anything, her own mission report would be further scrutinized than anyone else's because of her heritage.
Kankuro (approximate time: 4:10 PM)
He wasn't able to do anything the last time—that time—barely able to save anyone during the rampage. So many brave Suna-nin jumped to help corale his brother, brave enough to risk their lives directly and all he was able to do was damage control and help evacuate the civilians. And he had to be saved by his sister just recently—twice—both times from him.
I can't do anything… If I could have done more… I could have… I could have saved more people.
Kankuro shouldered his way past a crowd and into an alleyway, where he jumped from wall to wall until he made his way to the rooftops.
That… Little…
Kankuro kicked off some of the detritus that was blown onto the roof from the last sandstorm before he began to run.
Don't you feel any guilt? Any remorse?
Kankuro slammed onto the next rooftop, jumping from the last one, ducking his head down under his hood from the flying sand as the wind picked up. Kankuro clenched his jaw. Underneath his puppeteer blacks, Kankuro's blood was heated with anger despite Suna crawling to its cooler parts of the day. It was the quiet times like these, in the privacy of isolation that his mind gnawed at itself.
Kankuro jumped down from the rooftop as another stronger wind gust blew by. He grabbed onto a near horizontal flagpole on the side of the building with his gloved hands before swinging to an unoccupied patch of ground and continuing his run.
He wasn't like his sister, capable of swallowing his fury, turning it cold and displacing it so easily—perfect for the darker aspects of shinobi life. He had to move to get his anger out. He had to build things to distract himself from himself. He wasn't like his two other siblings, who can steep in their emotions without an ounce of it showing on their faces.
He had to let it out... but the twenty-fifth rule of shinobi conduct forbade him. He didn't know how his sister did it, but the day he found out just how many of his classmates perished that day, he wanted to cry. But Suna didn't allow shows of weakness. And crying meant weakness…
So he hid his face for a few hours that day while Temari covered for him.
Kankuro slowed his steps before jumping back onto the roof. Up there, more unwatched than he was on the ground, he placed his hands on his knees. The wind hadn't let up, so the sand continued to pelter him, finding uncomfortable crevices between his sandaled toes and scraping the skin of his exposed lower leg where his cinched shinobi-styled pants did not cover, to avoid having excess fabric catch on brambles or rock. He breathed, his head down, his hands on his knees. He didn't bother pushing chakra to his skin to repel the sand particles.
If any shinobi looked at him, one would have assumed he was simply tired. But he wasn't, not physically.
He breathed, then slowly stood back up, going back to his run as if nothing had happened. As if his thoughts didn't just attempt to swallow him. Kankuro frowned under his face paint. He knew he couldn't change the past, and he knew couldn't control his brother's actions. His brother was not him. He was going to find Lady Chiyo.
To train him, to help Suna. To help him. He had to be successful.
Temari (approximate time: 4:30 PM)
53-004.
The year of her entry into shinobi service followed by her application number. They formed the largest print on her report. Because there was nothing, really, more important than it. And she was not so naive as to think that her name ever mattered. It was only what she could do.
Even to her father.
…
She went to the aviary to add her mission report to the report package that got sent to the Kazekage daily, Kankuro's below hers. They weren't to be collected until another four hours. By that time, she doubted her father would notice that it was sent in after Kankuro had left the Kazekage compound or done in a rather bad facsimile of his writing—Kankuro having forgotten to do his.
She rolled a separate scrap of paper up, and sent another note via war hawk to Kankuro. She might have been able to watch Gaara annihilate a bunch of robbers with barely a hint of fear, but she didn't want to watch her brother be annihilated by the Kazekage's indignation at raising a shinobi more interested in his puppets than his duty.
Kankuro* (approximate time: 7:00 PM)
Kankuro paced outside Lady Chiyo's door. He felt like he should have left earlier. It was dinner time, and he felt interrupting her dinner was unlikely to garner any favor with Lady Chiyo.
Maybe I should wait until tomorrow…
Kankuro frowned, wiping the dust off of his clothes and fastening his shinobi sandals (which he usually kept half open to make them easier to take off and do his puppet-body switch) closed. He paced again.
I'm already here and I don't want to be here any longer than I have to either.
Inhaling nervously, Kankuro knocked on the door. He waited, but there was no response. He knocked again.
Don't tell me I got the wrong house… he thought as he checked his map, and gazed at the high white walls of the estate. No, this is the right house.
He knocked again. He heard the muffled sound of someone shrieking about the knocking.
I definitely should have picked a better time.
Kankuro smoothed down the front of his uniform.
The door cracked open to reveal a woman roughly in her early seventies dressed in an aged version of Suna's formal robes, her naturally slate purple hair limp and pale with age, which she wore tucked under an unmarked black headband. Her face was lightly dappled with liver spots and signs of aging under Suna's harsh sun, but despite that, Kankuro found she stood with as much dignity as one would expect from a respected shinobi.
She opened the door more widely, seeing Kankuro in his uniform. "Well? If you're here for the next poison shipment, I just sent it off an hour ago."
"No, I'm not. Lady Chiyo—I'm Kankuro, son of the Fourth Kazekage and on behalf of the Puppeteer Corp—" Kankuro started, faltering. Lady Chiyo had gone into isolation since the last war, receding out of the public eye with the exception of poison shipments every now and then to the Corp and definitely staying out of politics. He realized mentioning the Council so soon would lead to her slamming the door in his face.
Kankuro watched her face. It was underwhelmed, hearing his name and affiliation.
He made a decision. He dropped to his knees. He placed his hands on the ground before him and bowed his head towards them, continuing while bowed, "Please, Lady Chiyo, accept me as your student."
Shinobi rarely did kneeling bows when an ojigi (a standing bow) could suffice, and rarely in the open as it rendered one more vulnerable. While Kankuro didn't do a full dogeza (where one tilted their whole body forward to tap their head to the floor, for desperate pleas or sincere apology), the sentiment that he was indeed begging could have easily been understood.
He waited.
Please, Lady Chiyo.
Katiya (approximate time: 7:00 PM)
Katiya was back in Oto, the mission having gone successfully. Her own purchased gear, thrown into the corner and the rest someplace tucked away in Oto, copies of her mother's lab papers strewn over her simple desk.
(Though, Kabuto informed her Orochimaru had "other copies"—so Katiya immediately assumed "the originals" were still in his hands.)
Three different strains of curse mark—notes and formulas (not that she'd likely ever have access to the materials outside Oto or the desire to make one), notes on chakra wood and wood-style jutsu, notes on kekkei genkai in general—chakra-wise and genetics-wise, speculation on chakra control without hand signs (which was not uncommon, but typically more difficult). And speculation on three different methods to extend one's life—forbidden jutsu—notes only, with no specifics or hand signs provided. The only possible sign of redaction on anything.
Still, they were the foundations of the jutsu she knew her mother used, even though it itself went unnoted in the dossiers. It seemed to all be there. Every other research tidbit that did not see from the package she found she already had access to, courtesy of herself effectively ransacking her own home before she left.
But you really wouldn't know, would you… if they hid anything else...
Katiya reread the papers for any other signs of redactions or alterations, not believing whatever "good faith" Kabuto might have had at the gesture—nor the fact that he managed to give her the dossiers without someone else's approval. But she found none.
Why would he do that?
…
After an hour of dividing the papers into "useful" and "not useful" piles, Katiya moved to roll up the scrolls and tuck away the papers on curse marks, and then saw something. She stopped. She had found the same symbol she saw on Ryuteki's shoulder—the same one that stuck a level of familiarity with her. It drew her eye, so she found herself picking the paper up.
"Curse Mark of Earth" she read, taking in the three equidistant black crescents revolving around an invisible center once more. A black, ugly seal. Mom, she thought, Mom had that same mark… Katiya remembered, more clearly now than before. She flipped through the papers, now wondering. Jugo appeared no older than ten—while she herself was near twenty.
Something didn't make sense.
Mom was still working for him even after I was born, Katiya realized.
Mom, you stayed with Orochimaru even after I was born—What? Why? You hid me all that time—Dad—Dad had a Sharingan too—you hid him too, didn't you? Why?
Katiya flicked through the pages more rapidly.
And you hid all of that from a man who makes it his business to know everything… How?
She searched her memory. The research equipment in her home in the Land of Waves, her mother's periods of absence. She pulled out the research notes of her mother that she had salvaged from her own home, taking care to keep them away from the ones Kabuto provided so as not to mix the two.
Orochimaru likely gave her more freedom if the work she did was good, and she had better equipment elsewhere, she surmised, less contact between herself and him, thus a lower chance of discovery… but why stay with him at all through that period?
Why?
But there was nothing else. No other clue she could have used to figure out why she would stay with such a vile man. A man her mother feared, but also who she herself heard her mother curse. But of course, her mother would have never let such information fall into enemy hands, likely having burnt or hid them far, far away. But where?
What other evil did you hope to avoid?
Why would you risk your life testing an experimental curse mark, even if it was of your own making?
Kankuro* (approximate time: 7:15 PM)
Lady Chiyo shook her head as she poured Kankuro a cup of tea. "Now why would the son of the Kazekage want training from little old me?" she asked in her elderly but still lighthearted warble.
Lord Ebizo—Lady Chiyo's brother—brought Kankuro a simple bowl of rice and fresh steamed greens. "And during this hour—of all times?"
Kankuro's eyes widened at the gesture from where he sat at Lady Chiyo's dining table. "Lady Chiyo, Lord Ebizo, really, there's no need. Really, I ought to be going after this—"
"Nonsense! You came right after dinner asking to be trained and think to leave so soon? Bah!" Chiyo scolded lightly.
"And I'm curious what's gotten into the Puppeteer Corp to have one of their own running around untrained like this," Ebizo added calmly.
Kankuro shook his head quickly. "No—no—Father set me up with a Puppeteer tutor the year after I started the academy and I started to show potential. It's just—" Kankuro waved his chopsticks nervously. He cleared his throat, "I don't suppose you were in Suna a few months ago when… the One-Tail broke out, were you, Lady Chiyo?"
Lady Chiyo pursed her lips, clearly knowing now where the young genin was going. The playfulness that danced in her eyes earlier was slowly replaced with a shinobi's steely mask.
"Lady Chiyo, what they taught us at the Academy—what I learned from the Corp—it's not enough. Please, Lady Chiyo, if you take me as a student, I promise to do everything you tell me to—but I don't know how I'm going to…" Kankuro closed his eyes, remembering that day. 'I don't intend to die.' He took a breath, "I don't know how I'm going to survive working with the Jinchuriki of the One-Tail as is."
Kankuro searched Lady Chiyo's face. But like her brother, experienced and retired shinobi, their faces impassive masks. The only indications that they had even heard him were simply the outgrown and wizened eyebrows of Ebizo gaining a slight tilt of worry, and Chiyo's averted gaze. Kankuro waited, unknowing of what was on their minds.
Finally, Lady Chiyo spoke. "Kankuro, son of the Fourth Kazekage was it?"
Kankuro nodded.
A low rumble escaped Chiyo's throat. "Your brother is the one who is the Jinchuriki of the One-Tail."
It wasn't a question but Kankuro found himself nodding yet again. Lady Chiyo, on the other hand began to shake her head slowly, leaning back into the chair she was in opposite of Kankuro. Ebizo gave his sister a worried glance with his deep-set eyes.
"Lady Chiyo?" Kankuro asked.
"Did your father ever tell you who was the one to seal the One-Tail into him?" she asked instead.
Kankuro startled. He was only two when Gaara was born and supposedly had the One-Tail sealed into him—too young to remember any details. "—No?"
Lady Chiyo frowned visibly, her eyes looking off into the distance as she recalled her own memories. "I was the one to do it—to seal the One-Tail into his son," she said sadly, her eyes downcast with regret, "I can't say with confidence I'll ever have the right to train you against him, Kankuro."
Kankuro's eyes widened in shock, hearing the new detail. "Lady Chiyo—please—If anything, isn't that all the better reason to—"
"No," she said firmly. Ebizo placed a hand over his sister's shoulder and Kankuro watched the emotion play out on her face. "I'm an old woman, Kankuro—a shinobi past her prime, just like Suna is. You youngsters—you're better off without us—our mistakes. It's why I withdrew from Suna in the first place."
She continued, "Two wars of nothing but loss. My son died from the Second, my grandson missing from the Third… You're more than welcome to take a poison sample with you—eat your dinner here—have me examine your puppet—but, no, I won't train you, Kankuro. And you can tell your Corp leader... I will… Not. Ever. Join. The Council."
Kankuro put down his bowl of food—still untouched the whole time. "But—"
"No, Kankuro. No," Lady Chiyo croaked out, shaking her head vigorously now. "I'm a retired shinobi—your council can leave me in peace—you can find someone else to train you—but I won't send another student—another son—out to die a pointless death."
Kankuro clenched his jaw. Then that defeats the point of me coming here!
"If you send me on back out, I'll be even more likely to die—like the people who died that day—no one there to avenge their deaths!" Kankuro rebutted, seemingly only understanding the rejection of his request for training from her.
Lady Chiyo looked pointedly at Kankuro's chosen design for his face paint. Jagged lines and triangular shapes—designs generally common to wartime—symbolic of anger, vitality and strength… or vengeance. "And how do you think I feel about my son's death at the hands of the accursed 'White Fang of the Leaf'?! Do you think for a second I am willing to forgive a man who cut down my boy—my boy that I raised and fought for like any shinobi would—whose son I had to raise in his stead!?"
Kankuro's eyes widened, realizing his misstep. Lady Chiyo plowed on. "NO! That man—!" Lady Chiyo had stood up, her eyes fiery, a hand raised as if ready to attack the one who killed her son should he appear. Lord Ebizo stood up as well, if only to ease his sister back into her seat. Lady Chiyo took a few calming breaths.
Kankuro simply watched in silence. Not knowing what to say. After a moment, she spoke again. "I know, Kankuro. What it's like—and listen to me when I say that I do. Listen to me and listen to me well… Your quest to avenge those you lost—take revenge, whatever you've been telling yourself—don't."
Kankuro's mind whirred. "Don't?"
"Don't. I've lived a lifetime of regrets, Kankuro. Don't let a desire for vengeance turn into one of them. Don't let the loss of one end up becoming the loss of another… I went into the Third Shinobi War—hoping to avenge the death of my son for my grandson… And I ended up losing him anyways… after all of it, too. Don't repeat my mistakes, Kankuro. Don't."
"So you expect me to just let it go?!" Kankuro asked, his hands gripping the table edge tightly, ready to jump out of his seat himself.
"Letting it go doesn't mean forgiving him—not yet—not if you don't want to. Just don't let it dominate your life—don't let it churn out more regrets… not like I have. Promise me that, Kankuro."
"Don't let it dominate your life"... but… I don't need to forgive him… ?
"I don't—" I don't understand.
Chiyo met Kankuro's eyes. "If every shinobi on this plane acted out their desires for revenge, to the degree they desire, there won't be a single man, woman, or child left here. You can still hate him for all he's done—you can still train to be better than him—but know when to stop… I may be elderly, but I've still got a shinobi's eyes and ears. I'm not so decrepit as to miss what happens to those who won't."
The other assassins—the ones who have been trying to kill Gaara—and fail, Kankuro realized.
Lady Chiyo nodded, confirming the thought. "There will be nothing to gain from the act of further bloodshed—even if one of them were to succeed. A minute of glory, maybe, but what little else—a void filled with another void. Know when to stop, Kankuro. When you've lost and have nothing to gain.* Promise me that, Kankuro—and I'll see what I can do for you, besides joining the Council or true training."
Kankuro swallowed his numbness and still-present residues of what felt like confusion or shock at the revelation and the agreement that came out of it. "I promise."
Author's Note
"Act only when it's beneficial to do so, desist if it's not. Anger can revert to joy, wrath can revert to delight, but a nation destroyed cannot be restored to existence, and the dead cannot be restored to life." (Sun Tzu, The Art of War)
(... Unless you're Nagato, but the sentiment remains the same.)
…
I know I spend a lot of time on world building… but… I feel like it's integral to a good story… and I kind of like writing how it (their world) affects them. Because we know Suna's economic depression wore down a lot (emphasis on a lot) on their shinobi. So I think I'd be doing their situation an injustice if I didn't at least try to portray that…
And I am sorry if you're the sort of reader who hates reading world building.
Oh, also. The whole Kankuro asking Lady Chiyo for training? That's canon anime, but not canon manga… and it never happened on screen… it's just something Kankuro mentioned in passing… but here it is. I think Lady Chiyo's a bit OOC… because I had very little to base her on because we see so little or her… but I hope I did her and the build-up to and portrayal of her scenes justice.