Chapter 44

Kabuto (approximate time: 5:00 PM)

Some orders of Orochimaru's were never explicitly stated, but if a right hand were meant to act before the master of it verbally commanded, what Kabuto did could have been interpreted as such.

Gaara (three days later, approximate time: 7:30 AM)

"Baki-sensei! Baki-sensei, you're alright!" Temari exclaimed, pulling to a stand.

Gaara blinked at the exclamation but otherwise did not move. He was seated on the ground, one arm wrapped about his knees, the other one laying loosely on the floor. His injured arm had been bandaged—and this time—he had accepted Temari's pain medications. Kankuro, too, had been able to seek medical aid. They were still en route back to Sunagakure, but at least they had made their way back to the Land of Wind border where Konoha-nin weren't inclined to give chase. The area they stationed themselves by was heavily populated by likewise retreating Suna-nin that had the same idea to rest as the siblings did.

"What happened to Father?" Kankuro asked as their sensei approached.

Baki's face went pale at the mention. "No sign of him… It was a foul decision, trusting that damn—!" Baki-sensei balled his fist.

Then the sensei let out an exhale, taking in his students. They appeared worn down, and Kankuro's war paint was clearly days old, but they were none the worse for wear. Temari and Kankuro paid him rapt attention. But Gaara kept his face to the ground.

"I'm going to speak with the other jonin—we need to make a full withdrawal to Suna and evacuate the casualties we could—and hear from the Council what to do about…" Baki-sensei trailed off, at a loss for words. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

Temari and Kankuro exchanged glances, apprehensive. "Sensei, sorry for what?" Temari asked. They had left with Gaara the moment the signal rang out and the plan became botched—they didn't know—and Gaara did not know how best to say...

"… Father's dead," Gaara told them quietly.

"Huh!?!" Temari and Kankuro exclaimed in shock, swinging their heads to their youngest sibling before turning back to their sensei for confirmation. "That can't—!"

Gaara continued, still quiet, his eyes still averted from anyone else's, "… He's been dead since the beginning of the Chunin Exam finale. Shu… I… did not sense our father's chakra from the man we saw during the exams."

Baki-sensei shook his head slowly, as if trying to find some way to refute Gaara's claim but found none. Most sensory-nin would have considered it to be in poor manners to employ a sensory jutsu in the presence of their Lord Kazekage unbidden. But Gaara couldn't "turn off" Shukaku or his commentary if he were to sense anything. And it was only because Gaara had little understanding of manners was he so blunt in admitting he had deployed—essentially—a sensory jutsu in their Kazekage's presence. Baki himself did not know until much later, someone else's sensory jutsu bringing back information of someone other than Rasa in the robes of the Lord Kazekage. Long after the invasion had already started.

He gave his students a long, hard look. And then the siblings knew it was true. Missing, presumed dead at that point. Or almost certainly dead.

Kankuro rolled back down to sit on the floor. And Temari could only blink in shock at Gaara's revelation.

Katiya (approximate time: unknown)

Kabuto was just following orders. As she recalled, he did not spare her a second glance the last time her life was under threat from Gaara, so it meant that it must have been truly under Lord Orochimaru's guidance that he would do such a thing as save her now—then—when Kabuto had healed her—then.

Ryuteki… said she had been doing things in the name of Konoha, even after joining Lord Orochimaru, even when she knew of the invasion.

The invasion could not have been as evil a thing as she initially thought. Lord Orochimaru had saved her. Again. He could not have been as evil a person as she initially thought. Evil people did not save other people.

He could have only been a hero, relative to her and her definition now. He saved her and nurtured her and her interest in her mother's research. He gave her a home and a purpose—something to occupy her time with. He gave her all she could ever need when she only ever got bits and pieces on her own. He was kind.

There were people like Guren who worshipped Lord Orochimaru as a god. She… hated. Was scared of understanding. Hated why she understood. But understood. Why.

Gaara (approximate time: 8:10 PM)

Gaara walked rather slowly to the place he resided in—when he wasn't on missions—his home? He was very aware of the low ranking shinobi that edged around him or turned the other way as he passed. It was just… the first time perhaps for a long time that he realized they were there.

Memory echoed. 'But I just want to play. Come back! COME BACK! PLEASE! COME BACK! Don't leave me all alone!'

oH, cOmE on, LittLE GAaRa—WHY IS IT SO BORING nOw?!? WhAt—sO yoU leT me OuT foR onE daY And noW thAt'S iT?!? yoU uSeD tO bE SOOooooOoo MUcH moRe FUN—Don'T yoU wAnT To HavE fUN?

Gaara paused, gulping down the… feeling that came up. He slowly reached towards his stomach where his seal was. It felt different now—Shukaku. Shukaku was still very much there—but him being there felt different. When Gaara wasn't careful—he'd find himself sitting in Shukaku's chamber—when he hadn't meant to go there. Not like how it was before.

Before, he had always… sought Shukaku out instead. Now, it seemed Shukaku was the one seeking him out. Like he was now.

Gaara found himself seated in Shukaku's chamber. But still walking to his physical rooms. He stared at the seal on Shukaku's cage—it seemed to have faded—Gaara had ripped it off before—during the invasion—but then, the cage shifted to be around Gaara himself instead of being around Shukaku like it was normally—because at that time, Gaara wasn't… there. When Shukaku was allowed to take over. Now, it was just faded, the seal. But the seal was still working. Shukaku was still loud, and the seal was still working… and he could tell which parts were him and which parts were Shukaku—but the way it felt… felt different.

More… open?

He didn't know if it was because what he had thought had changed—because of Naruto—or because of the Playing Possum Jutsu and how it worked before it got stopped—but somehow it felt more right?—being with Shukaku now. Even though he knew Shukaku himself wasn't the most right. Gaara took a breath and kept moving. He didn't know what he wanted to do in his rooms once he got there, but he just knew he wanted to… spend some time there.

Maybe cleaning. There was a lot of furniture and other junk in there he hadn't used. He thought to maybe find someone… who would love it more than he did. To better share the love he had.

Shukaku threw a tantrum questioning the meaning of it, but Gaara let Shukaku be. In Gaara's mind—but only in his mind—for Gaara had made up his own. He was not Shukaku, nor his father, and his own love could be loving. Like Naruto's, another Jinchuriki's, Gaara had decided.

Katiya (two weeks later, approximate time: unknown)

Crows seemed to be following her everywhere now. When Katiya left Otogakure on a solo mission to one of the other bases, yet another one watched her depart. On the team missions she took, she tried to ignore them. On the solo ones, she tended to burn them. The bulk of them were Itachi's way of requesting a meeting with her. But when would he take the hint?

She was done.

The crow this time was too close to the entrance of Otogakure for her to burn discreetly and it followed her. She ignored it and then it became two as the distance and her speed increased. And then four as she neared a clearing. And then she found herself locked in a genjutsu staring at way too many. Physically, her body came to a standing stop.

Oh joy, her mind replied.

The sky was once again an unsightly red hue, but this time she was in some neighborhood—if she cared, she could have noticed the architecture being that of Konohagakure—but she didn't. A low crescent moon hung in the sky, a power line seating way too many crows also hanging above her.

"This genjutsu of yours is looking mighty fine, Itachi. I take it your Kotaro is working… So what would you possibly want from me?" Katiya asked the sky, holding her arms widely, pirouetting slowly and unworriedly as she waited for him to come forth from the group of crows up on the power lines.

"I was worried about you, when you stopped responding to my crows."

Rather than the same dramatic entrance he made last time, Itachi seemed to have Body Flickered into existence on the ground. Katiya adjusted the direction of her gaze accordingly. Was that before or after I started setting them on fire?

"Well, I'm fine but a bit busy. Got injured in our attack on Konohagakure and en route to a support mission, so I'll say your worry is appreciated but unwarranted… Next?"

Itachi narrowed his eyes. His own spies likely already informed him of the going-ons of Konohagakure and the like. "You told me to send you a sample of the Kotaro I am using—verify it is working as intend—"

"—Which we both know is a useless effort under a genjutsu. I can tell you've been using it for a while, meaning after I didn't respond the first few times, you decided to risk it and it seems it is working. I don't know why I need to verify it further. Next?"

"Sasuke has a curse mark."

"... Ah," Katiya replied now, with a cold undertone. "You've been to visit your brother, I take it."

Itachi was silent.

"I don't know what you want me to do about it—the marking's kind of a past tense thing now—and besides, that power he needs to kill you has to come from somewhere." The intonation Katiya used on the last half of her statement shifted. Overtly cold, with the same game-like amusement her lord tended to view everything with.

Itachi narrowed his eyes. There was something in the genjutsu now—one simply observing "visually" via this mindscape would not have noticed—it was an item one must have felt or sensed instead. He was warning her, it seemed.

Katiya smiled humorlessly under her balaclava. "And here I thought you'd have wanted your brother's body to live past whatever time it takes for him to kill you," she responded to his nonverbal warning.

"By letting him become Orochimaru's next vessel?" Itachi interrogated—his anger and incredulity was masked in the quiet shinobi manner of his—but the fact one could actually see it was telling.

"By not letting him die at the hands of the disease currently killing you."

Itachi's eyes widened.

"It seems Lord Orochimaru refined the jutsu formula you rejected. Even if the stabilization base of it is now Lord Orochimaru's own chakra, the fact that my jutsu formula was based off of the Fuma side-branch and Sharingan-less sister clan of the Uchiha means it's also your brother's best chance of life."

"How?"

Katiya rolled her head skywards in incredulity. "I didn't realize you needed an explanation punched into you—but the last jutsu formula I gave you was based off of Fuma DNA. The Fuma are related to the Uchiha. Yes?"

Itachi nodded his head nearly imperceptibly, once.

"At a dumbed-down most basic level, you can think of the curse mark itself like a virus—it goes into you, your body tries to deal with it—it can't kill it because viruses aren't alive—and so it sits around in the body even if you can figure out how to live with it. Viruses reproduce by hijacking other cells and using them to produce their own DNA. Hijacking a cell's DNA. Like your family's own diseased DNA... They had immunology studies in Konoha, didn't they?"

"You said that jutsu was unstable," Itachi remarked quietly.

"And Lord Orochimaru stabilized it. I don't know how—but it's likely he used his own chakra to do so." Katiya shrugged, "The chakra transplant is likely also the reason why the curse marks and stabilization pills are necessary before he takes a body as a host..." she replied, ever so slightly lackadaisical.

"If Orochimaru's chakra were removed, would the jutsu destabilize?"

"Untested. Doubt anyone ever tried."

"Would the jutsu still work—if it was someone else's chakra—Sasuke's own?" The intensity in Itachi's eye had increased, as did the speed of his speech, if only so slightly.

"Untested." Her own voice was impassively cold when she said it. As if the voice was not her own. "But I would not use your own chakra, if that was your intention. If memory serves correctly, I recall your own being diseased. But that's up to you. Maybe your Kotaro might actually be able to do something besides palliative pain relief. Maybe Sasuke has a chance on his own. Maybe not. Never know."

Itachi watched Katiya at that. Under her balaclava she wore even in the mindscape, her expression was deadpan. She turned around and began to walk away despite knowing full well she could not move anywhere physically. The conversation was done in her mind. Though, it was not in Itachi's.

"What about Gaara?" Itachi asked, shifting the subject and jumping in logic, knowing Katiya would return back to Orochimaru. Despite having "moved", Katiya heard Itachi's voice as if he were still right next to her.

She pretended she didn't notice the genjutsu effect. "What about him?"

"He was injured in his battle against Naruto, the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki."

"And I thought it was the Akatsuki's business to mind Jinchuriki filth… What concern should they be of mine?"

Itachi was silent. Katiya turned back around to face him. "His name was 'Gaara' just a few months ago," Itachi told her.

"A lot can happen in that time," she replied. There was a ghost of a jabbing sensation in one of her eyes. Ignorable. "Something there along the way between then and now just happened to make his name less significant to me."

"Is it though? Or are you just saying that because Orochimaru manipulated you to?"

The ghost of a jabbing sensation stopped being a ghost of a sensation. The hot red pain of it brought a flash of reality's grassy ground to her eyes before Itachi covered it back up with his genjutsu. Katiya scowled. The questions of his seemed familiar somehow but she didn't know how to answer them. She didn't know herself. "It doesn't matter. If I mean so little to him, there's no point in letting him matter so much to me. Now let me go," she told him annoyedly, the jabbing shards of glass and needles in her eyes bringing reality back into focus. Her eyes began to water but if she could just focus on the sensation of it… she knew she could break up the genjutsu herself.

Itachi brought himself suddenly closer to her, in the genjutsu, however. He let the index finger of one of his hands lightly tap her forehead. And the pain… abated.

Katiya widened her eyes, meeting his. The look in his eye was that of someone who wanted to say something—but not how to say it. "To choose to love is a choice.* Sometimes the point isn't always immediate. But it doesn't change the fact that it's there and can lead somewhere."

When this pathway only has one possibility—a—

Itachi met her eyes in the genjutsu.

"... The rocky canyon between the Land of Rivers and the Land of Grass…" Katiya started slowly, her mouth dry. "Where Suna-controlled territory meets those canyon plateaus… you can find the body of the Kazekage there… Tell… Tell a man named 'Baki' he can find him there," Katiya told Itachi haltingly, focusing on the shreds of memories containing Gaara's sensei. She paused and averted her eyes from Itachi, blinking.

The feeling came back as a prickle but it was much more bearable now. "Leave the tip anonymous."

When she looked back up, Itachi had that look in his eye again. That one that was of someone who wanted to say something but not how to say it. One of us might suspect her decision to leave the tip at all was to ease her own guilt and to acknowledge Itachi as right. But leaving it anonymous could be interpreted as a desire to not take ownership—acknowledgement—of the aid it would provide Suna and by extension, Gaara.

Itachi took it to mean that she cared but did not want to admit that she did. He did not know what to say to that, that action so similar to his own. He bowed his head and the genjutsu began to gently fade to black. Katiya seemed to shrink in on herself, so small in that moment.

I'm sorry, Itachi, she thought to him before the genjutsu faded out completely.

…

When Katiya came to, she found her eyes were still watering. Genjutsu worked in the mind but the effects were real. Despite the pain in her eyes gone and the lack of emotion on her face. It had been a while since she had cried. But the water that fell from her eyes felt more like a nearly imperceptible leak in a faulty pipe than a display of any emotion she felt. She was leaking water, not tears. Or so she preferred to think. One swipe of the hand and it was gone anyways.

She turned her hand over. There was a jar of Kotaro eyedrops in her grip. Likely what a crow clone in reality had used to get rid of the pain in her eyes while she was in the genjutsu. She didn't remember asking for the treatment. Still, she pocketed it before looking up. The sun hadn't set from its previous position. Perhaps it was meant to be her payment for the information.

Author's Note

"[L]ove is an action [...] Love is not a feeling. Many, many people possessing a feeling of love and even acting in response to that feeling act in all manner of unloving and destructive ways… Love is an act of will—namely, both an intention and an action. Will also implies choice. We do not have to love. We choose to love." -M. Scott Peck (The Road Less Travelled)

The author has some books I have questions about, but the one I read was still as insightful as all different perspectives tend to be.

Baki* (one week later, approximate time: 1:00 PM)

He led a team out to the region described and began to search. There was another team already scouring the area when he arrived, only they had been having less luck. The Council put the recovery of the Lord Kazekage as a top priority but the assumption had long since been that he was indeed dead. It had been a whole month with no sign of him—when Kage rarely left their desks without notice. Morale had been waning increasingly thin and the search was about to be called off when he received his tip. He questioned it, but Suna's shinobi analytics indicated it was worth investigating.

Sunagakure had been desperate. And they had gotten played. They should have pulled out the moment they realized Otogakure was funded—no—run by the exiled Snake Sannin.

A whistle rang out. Someone found something.

"Look at this… they've been dead for a while… my guess? Since before the Chunin Exams."

Gaara… was right.

… (approximate time: 8:30 PM)

Baki made his way back to Suna. After the crows had been beat off, and the bodies sealed into carrying scrolls, it was done. The autopsy report would be none of his business.

Still, the Kagekage's children…

"Baki… sensei," a quiet voice behind him called out. "Call", perhaps the wrong word. The voice, though audible at standard speech levels, had about the same amount of force as that of one's most pensive whisper.

Baki paused in his step. "Gaara," he said in reply. "What is it?"

Gaara hesitated. When Baki turned around, he saw his student was carrying something. "I… wanted to… thank you…" Gaara started. He was carrying the leather strapping that once held his signature gourd—except today, said gourd was nowhere to be found, and the leather strap was in his hands, unworn. "I wanted to thank you… this armor, it saved me that day."

Baki looked at the armor carefully from where he was. There was a hole in it where the Uchiha's lightning-charged fist must have gone through it. Gaara had neither cleaned nor repaired the damage of the armor-like strap and so it hung bloody in his arms still. Though the blood had dried…

"This is for you," Gaara finished lamely, holding out his other hand bearing what appeared to be… uncashed mission stipends. From his own completed missions, quite likely.

Baki's eyes widened slightly. And then he leaned down to curl his student's fingers back around the paper stipends. "Keep them," Baki said.

"But—"

"You w—are—my student, Gaara. That… means I'm responsible for your safety while we are out on missions. Those papers are meant to be the payment for successful completion of those missions. Your completion of those missions. It's improper for me as a sensei to take that from you."

"But what do I do with them?"

Baki closed his one eye momentarily. If he was cursing at the boy's father, that eye closure that lasted less than a second was all that indicated it. "You can ask one of your siblings that. I'm sure they'll be willing to help you." He paused. "And as for the armor…"

Baki pulled out an item from one of his hip-pouch Storage Scrolls.

"This is the Sunagakure gear catalog. Your siblings will show you how to use it."

Gaara took it numbly. Baki could visibly see the boy's awkwardness from a lack of familiarity with such interactions. Baki bowed to Gaara.

Gaara mentally scrambled for a moment, unsure. He saw the motion before—back when—

Gaara returned the gesture. Baki stood from his bow, smiling slightly. Gaara on the other hand, stayed bowed. "A formal bow only lasts for ten seconds at the most," Baki said to Gaara in perhaps the gentlest tone his rough voice could do.

Gaara startled, pulling himself up.

"Go speak to your siblings, Gaara. They're likely still grieving the loss of the Lord Kazekage, like you are."

Gaara's eyes widened. Then he nodded, leaving. Baki watched him go.

The Konoha-nin he faced fought valiantly, even to their last breaths. Being a shinobi was a profession—a job they got paid for—but there was that Konoha sensei… To be a sensei—a good one—was a state of being, a lifestyle, that came from finding pieces of oneself in a student worth training and worth protecting. It had to have been something more than just a job; being a "good" sensei or a "bad" sensei got the same amount of pay but it was far from the same. It took the death of his Kazekage from him to realize that. That, and the actions of the Konoha-nin in the protection of their own village at the expense of their own Kage.

The Konoha-nin he fought… they had lasted as long as they did in battle because they found in their people something worth their lives to protect. Something more valuable than money.

Katiya (approximate time: unknown)

The jar of Kotaro eyedrops now sat on the desk in her quarters. She hadn't needed it beyond the one time she did but now the thought of Gaara or Itachi brought an incessant feeling to her eyes. After that last conversation with Itachi she had. She pushed the thoughts of them all away. She couldn't think about them. She couldn't or her Sharingan would threaten to burn her eyes open.

Pulling the chakra from her eyes became harder. But she knew she would have to push them—some… people—away if she wanted to stay alive. If she wanted to stay alive. She didn't know why she did it—help Itachi or help Gaara—but they had to go. Either way. That much was certain.

The jar of Kotaro eyedrops stayed at her desk. She pulled out all of her Itachi-related medical documents and proceeded to burn them, however. She had a feeling—she knew—

—she would not go to see him again. Not over any medical care he might need to keep himself alive. Never again.

Kankuro (a few days later, approximate time: 7:00 PM)

Kankuro felt guilty, but he was relieved when he learned of his Father's death. A lot of puppeteers were. But after his death, everyone knew there would be a power vacuum and so the celebrations a few puppeteers had were underscored with trepidation. No one expected Kankuro to take command as Kazekage, of course. But the fact the Suna Council might try to set up a shadow government until he and his siblings came "of age"—or worse, indefinitely—led to some subtly taking sides already. Kankuro reclined on his sister's couch nonchalantly, thinking about it. He was worried, though his relaxed posture didn't indicate it.

"Kankuro, what're we going to do?" Temari asked, pacing.

Worse, the Suna Council had been talking. Rumor on the street said they saw her name as the one next in line for Kazekage position but not her.

"Temari, you'll be fine. Just relax, not like you could be any worse than Father," Kankuro replied.

Temari balled her fists, her hands going to her hair. It was a worry she had. "Kankuro, I'm not cut out for politics, you know that. Diplomacy, subtlety—" Temari threw her hands up and paused in her pacing, thinking about a word.

"Hierarchy?" Kankuro tried.

"—Hierarchy! I can't, Kankuro, I can't—and if I can, I don't want to but one of us has to." Temari hugged her arms, meeting Kankuro's eyes.

Kankuro looked away. They knew the Council would find any reason and any way to undermine them as they had their father—not that it wasn't unjustified in that case. But being Kazekage tended to change people.

"Temari, you're not Father. Maybe we can just enjoy the fact that he's gone and let the Suna Council do what it wants for now—use your mission assignments—or I dunno, your strategy division ties to play for an advisory role instead." It had been what Kankuro was working to hold for himself as it was not the Puppeteer Corp way to take the spotlight. It would spare him the figurehead role as well.

"But you know they're not going to let me do that. If I say 'no' they'd just put my name down anyways and use me as their puppet."

A small frown worried Kankuro's lip. He only gave his sister a summary of the rumors he heard and she had already worked out what was going to go on. The discussion and stress from it would be a big downhill spiral for the both of them.

There was a knock at the door. Kankuro turned his head before getting up, seeing his sister head towards it.

"Who could that be at this time?" Temari asked, checking before opening. "Gaara," she announced surprisedly.

Gaara just stood. Beyond the threshold. His eyes widened after seeing the both of his siblings. He didn't know how to approach the meeting. And appeared ever so slightly tongue-tied.

"Something you wanted, Gaara?" Kankuro asked.

Gaara bowed his head slightly, getting his bearings. "I—Baki-sensei—said I should talk to you about what to do about these," Gaara said, holding out a sheaf of papers.

The siblings exchanged glances. Kankuro made out the papers to be a stack of mission stipends and a gear catalog. Kankuro shrugged to Temari. Temari gave him a blank look as if to say "whatever you want to do."

Kankuro gave Gaara another look before shrugging again. "Come on in, Gaara. Temari and I weren't doing anything important anyways," he said for them both.

Gaara* (approximate time: 5:30 PM)

Grief was an odd thing, Gaara decided. Either that or just shinobi grief. No one seemed to be grieving. Temari decided she would take him to the military financial division the next day, and Kankuro busied himself by teaching Gaara the workings of the catalog. Gaara didn't know what it was, but somehow, his siblings seemed relieved.

"How about that color?" Temari asked, pointing at a cactus green color sampler swatch. "Matches Gaara's eyes?"

"Green, you kidding me?" Kankuro responded, allowing an eyebrow to twinge in disbelief. "Sure it matches his eyes, but you can't tell me you miss the effect it'd have next to his hair."

"Well, I think it'd look good! It's for an undershirt—not an entire outfit!"

Kankuro frowned. "Well, Gaara, what d'you think? Do you like the color? You're going to be the one wearing the thing."

The siblings turned towards Gaara. Gaara looked over the color swatches. His hair… the color… Shukaku. He liked the color red. Paying attention, Shukaku yelled about bloodshed and brought the memories of the red substance up to the surface of Gaara's mind. But it took Gaara a moment to think for himself.

He remembered a conversation with Yashamaru. How looking at the blue sky would help him feel calm. Shukaku hated the color, but Shukaku also had blue fur-markings. Did he like the color blue? Gaara pondered it.

"How do I know what color I would like?" Gaara asked aloud.

The other siblings exchanged glances. "It makes you happy, I guess," Kankuro tried. "You have stuff that makes you happy, right?" he asked carefully.

Gaara fixed his eyes on the catalog to avoid looking at his brother. Did he? He liked the bloodshed—or so Shukaku and he did when they were together—because it felt… less lonely like that. But did he like the bloodshed itself? Or the feeling of being… not lonely? The color red wasn't calm. But it was very present. The color—whenever he saw it, he knew he was alive. And Sasuke… when Gaara had gotten injured because of Sasuke, the color was there too. He wanted—then—to see whose purpose in living was stronger even if it could have meant death—but then when it was over, they were both alive.

The color reminded him, now, that he was alive. And living… Gaara thought of what had happened recently. And Naruto. Living… and loving made him happy.

Gaara pointed to the color on the catalog.

"Red?" Temari asked nervously. "You like the color red?"

Gaara kept his eyes fixed on the catalog. He didn't know how to phrase what he had been feeling that led him to the decision. "Red makes me feel alive. Maybe… others feel the same when they see it." He turned to his siblings. Temari's sash was red. "Why do you wear red, Temari?"

Temari hesitated. "It's easier to clean blood off of," she said at last. "It's the color of blood."

Kankuro watched Gaara and Temari carefully. Gaara turned his head towards Kankuro. Kankuro wore mostly black.

"Why do you wear black, Kankuro?"

"Nighttime stealth," Kankuro replied readily. "That, and because it's the Puppeteer Corp uniform color," he smirked. "If you like the color red, Gaara, I don't see why not wear it."

Gaara nodded but he sensed Temari wasn't happy with the statement. "Is something wrong… Temari?"

Temari startled. "Oh, no, nothing," she said in a slightly breathier voice than usual.

Kankuro gave his sister a look now. "It's alright, Gaara. I think Temari's just worried you might scare someone wearing red. It's a bit of a bright color for a shinobi."

It is? Gaara wondered. Naruto had worn orange when no one else did. He supposed it was similar and that Naruto was indeed an odd one. He pointed at a darker shade of red. "How about that one? It's more close to black."

"That color's fine too. Maybe you want to pick out what article of clothing you want it on now? Now that you have the color? Armor's pretty important, but if you want to be discreet about the fact that you're wearing it, you'll probably want one of the underlayers of mesh armor."

Gaara nodded, flipping the pages. Baki-sensei had given him mesh armor too. And a leather strap. He liked those things because someone had given them to him, he decided. "Love is… the spirit of devoting yourself to someone important and close to you… And it's expressed by caring for and protecting that person…" It felt different looking for something similar, but he knew Baki-sensei would have wanted him to do that and take care of himself. It felt different, being loved.

Gaara pointed to a bodysuit similar to the one Baki-sensei had given him. "This one," he decided, his eyes wide. It was almost exactly like the one Baki had given him—only long sleeved.

Kankuro softly smiled. "Yeah, it seems like your kind of look," Kankuro agreed.

Gaara tilted his head. How does Kankuro know?

"It's similar to what you were wearing before and you didn't seem to mind that," Kankuro replied, seeing the question in his brother's eyes.

Oh, Gaara thought, suddenly aware of how close he and his brother were. They were seated next to each other, over the catalog, Temari somewhat farther away though. But it had been a while since anyone dared get near him. Or since he even tried. He could see his brother's eyes. Dark brown, nearly black.

"You're… not afraid of me," Gaara realized.

Kankuro shifted back slightly. "I guess I'm not," he replied.

Why?

"I guess after so long of not paying attention to Father, I never got the warnings he gave me about my midget Jinchuriki brother," Kankuro joked. "Makes it easier for me to think of you as just another punk," he said.

Gaara widened his eyes and then began reaching out towards Kankuro, wrapping him in a hug. After a moment, Kankuro clapped an arm onto Gaara's back. Lightly. Once. But Gaara felt it all the same.