Author's Note

Heavy canon replaying. And hopefully the only large flashback you'll see from me. Well… I could have straight-up written it as an ordinary scene, but it's written as an emotionally stunted flashback by intention.

Chapter 47

Gaara (two weeks later, approximate time: 10:00 PM)

Apparently having two shinobi—one puppeteer familiar with carpentry, masonry, and all things mechanical and Gaara—rebuilding a neighborhood, construction went by quickly. After the people of Sunagakure at the construction warehouse discovered Kankuro (and Gaara) had been using the supplies to rebuild the neighborhood that was most decimated by Shukaku's rampage, they became willing to provide. Discount prices were out of the question because of Suna's economic strait, but to Gaara, it was the willingness to sell the supplies that mattered.

Some two days after Gaara and his brother began working on construction, the Council also happened to allow the creation of Gaara's own banking account. While he was uncertain what would happen if he were to attempt to buy something on his own using his money on the merchants' side, while Kankuro was there, the willingness to interact remained. And for that, Gaara was appreciative. His new clothes arrived too—and he was grateful for his siblings for being willing to pay for them when he could not.

For roughly four years, the entire area had remained untouched by anyone except the ANBU and the lost. The terror wrought on by Shukaku had been enough to keep people out, out of fear of a reoccurrence of the incident. Shukaku had been in control at the time, but Gaara had still seen, still felt the memories of it. Gaara still remembered destroying a whole lot of the village. And he now knew it was a lot easier to destroy things like Yashamaru's old dwelling than it was to rebuild them.

"You okay?" Kankuro asked, seeing Gaara's stiff standing form.

Gaara looked up from his hands where a dusted-over picture of his mother and uncle lay. "Yashamaru's things… I do not know… what to do with them," Gaara said quietly. His more soft spoken tones were a far cry from his crazed rasps from when destruction was his purpose. Somehow, he still felt his voice spoke volumes despite no longer feeling the need to forcefully grate out said purpose.

"You don't want to keep them?"

Gaara looked back down at the picture in his hands. "I did not know if I should leave them here in Yashamaru's home."

"Ah," Kankuro said understandingly. Kankuro paused as he looked about the room. "Well, this place was legally under Yashamaru's name. Knowing the ANBU line of work, he probably wrote his will early… We can check, but I think between Temari and me, it'd pretty much be yours unless you really want to leave it here to just gather dust."

Gaara wrapped the picture in his sand to place into his gourd, bowing his head. It would be far from his intention to allow belongings of Yashamaru's to go purposeless and uncared for.

"… Everything's already been packed up while we were reconstructing—I'll run by the Council building to see if I can pull up Yashamaru's will—and then help you move it to your place—way too empty over there as-is, punk," Kankuro smiled, interpreting the action as interest in keeping Yashamaru's other belongings.

Katiya (approximate time: aye)

Rinji had successfully been integrated into the prison dump he was dispatched to. But surprisingly, Katiya herself actually knew at least one if not a few of the region's shinobi. And at that point, she didn't know how to say "no" to an invite to a fight room from Guren.

Gaara* (the next day, approximate time: 5:40 PM)

They exited and made their way to Suna's back to watch the sunset from the high perch of the border wall. Gaara hadn't been particular about where Kankuro put Yashamaru's things, so the half-empty bookshelves in the three-seater dining room (because some few other chairs had been destroyed) was a design choice he did not mind. Placing the items from Yashamaru's home into his went by quickly.

The photo of his mother and uncle was on one of those dining room shelves, back in his rooms on the outskirts of the Kazekage compound. He resolved to eat there more frequently. And if he ever needed company, apparently Kankuro himself was only a few floors down from him, in one of the subterranean rooms.

"I think I… would like to become Kazekage one day," Gaara said, facing the sunset and breaking the silence. "And I plan on joining the standard infantry, Kankuro."

Kankuro, behind him, startled from the odd choice of a conversation starter. "I don't want to say this, but you're seen as nothing but a frightening monster to the village. It'll be a struggle for you to join an infantry unit—the superiors don't think very well of you—and a majority of the village is still scared of you."

Gaara was silent.

"But—"

"I know," Gaara replied. "But I will be overcome with an even greater suffering if I were to just wait around. I have to work hard for a future for myself…" Beyond that of a monster. "And I must not run from my path. So long as I continue, then someday… I can be like him."

Naruto.

Gaara continued "… I will work hard and connect with the people of this village. Watching Naruto Uzumaki has brought me clarity. Until I met him, my ties with others brought only pain and sorrow. But he is pushing me to redefine those ties. I think I finally understand the suffering and sorrow… and the joy. Those feelings I can share with those around me."

There was a pause as Gaara self-consciously moved to hold onto the thick leather strap that mounted his gourd—now on top of an outfit his siblings had paid for. "Naruto Uzumaki... From fighting him I learned that. He knew pain like I did and then he taught me that you can change your path. I wish that one day I can be needed by someone... Not as a frightening weapon but as Suna's Kazekage."

"By joining the general infantry?" Kankuro asked, "Gaara, by staying close to the unit Father set us up with, you wouldn't have to deal with the others' fear or hate as much."

"And being the Kazekage, any of us would have to deal with other villages' fear and hate." Gaara shook his head. "Only by joining the general infantry would I be able to reach more people. Show them that it is no longer my intention to cave into my destiny to be a monster and show them that they can do the same, like Naruto did for me."

It was interesting, the indirect effect Naruto had after yelling to another death-fixated shinobi. "Besides, you aren't afraid of me," Gaara continued. "And seeing that lack of fear, others are now more willing to interact with me. I wish… to continue… if it means I can have moments like this… where I'm not alone."

There was a pause. And then Kankuro reached out for his brother's shoulder—Gaara's sand not stopping him. "I was planning on abdicating either way, if leadership ever came to me. Temari's got herself twisted in knots trying to figure out how to be a Kazekage, but I'm glad one of us is actually willing to do it… You'll make a good Kazekage. I mean it."

Gaara smiled softly. "Thank you, brother," he said.

Kankuro (one week later, approximate time: 10:00 AM)

"The Council has a mission for me, a joint mission with Konohagakure in the Land of Rivers. We're to clear an area of bandits," Gaara had told Kankuro.

"Seriously? Huh, guess inter-shinobi-village relations have finally shaped up since the invasion… Just be careful, I'd say. Temari's been worried about village hooligans."

The tone Kankuro had used was cautious but non-threatening—they both knew the situation heading out would be bad—neither of them able to help it as of yet. Sunagakure village hooligans were the ones Kankuro was more wary of than the gangs of bandits that overtook the Land of Rivers after their own shinobi village's fall. Gaara's calm nod assured Kankuro the latter was aware though.

"… Good luck, Gaara!" Kankuro wished his brother in his memory, before sending the latter off.

He smiled softly to himself now, knocking on Temari's door. It was something in the thought of Gaara doing the small human thing of waving him goodbye that he found heartening. He only hoped the standard infantry unit and whatever else might have come up wouldn't be too hard on his brother… It would be Gaara's first mission with the unit and Kankuro wanted it to go well for him, for his sake.

"Temari? Ayy, Temari, open up!" Kankuro called after knocking a bit incessantly, tucking away his worries.

Temari wretched open her door after a moment. "Why the heck are you so impatient today?"

"Wanted to talk to you—Gaara's off on a mission—but it's about him becoming Kazekage," he told her as he entered.

The look on Temari's face had a moment of conflict before softening. "You want Gaara as Kazekage too?"

Kankuro started. Too?

Temari (approximate time: 10:05 AM)

Temari swallowed… emotionally before attempting to respond. She wasn't nervous. She had no reason to be. It was just Kankuro, after all. But the mental image Temari had of her father while he was alive still berated her for her lack of emotional control. She couldn't be like that—so still and so calm—like some sort of statue when no one would listen to her when all she wanted was to be heard. Perhaps if she paid enough attention to herself in comparison to her father, she'd have realized her father was no different though he demanded otherwise of her—but she didn't realize. Her father was always too loud in her mind, after her mother died.

"One of my friends mentioned that to her, it wouldn't matter—because the civilian classes never have a say on who inherits the Kazekage position… For me, I'd just be taking it as a chore, or just to spite Father. I can't be the perfect Kage some people want me to be, and I definitely don't think I'd be able to pull us out of our depression with negotiation alone… So… I'd been thinking about it," Temari finally said half-defeatedly.

"You don't really want to be Kazekage either."

Temari shook her head. "Father raised us—raised me to become Kazekage… but… I don't know, Kankuro. I guess I just don't picture myself in politics," she said, hugging her arms. Her father never did either, really—but as much as she wanted to do it just to spite him, she knew she just wasn't cut out for it and that her spite wouldn't have been much use. She couldn't imagine being happy crammed up in an office desk all day.

"But do you think Gaara can handle it? Council and all?" Kankuro asked, asking a different question, not knowing what was running through his sister's mind at that point.

She couldn't be like that—like some sort of statue when no one would listen to her when all she wanted was to be heard—not like Gaara. So yes, she thought Gaara could handle that—doing just that for oh-so-long… Politics being less about policies and how statuesque they'd look…

Temari gave Kankuro a look. "Yes," she said at last, barely audibly.

Gaara* (approximate time: 10:20 AM)

Gaara made his way to the Land of Rivers—the region north of the "border" area split between Sunagakure and Konohagakure patrol after the region's shinobi village of Tanigakure fell. Though, to say he wasn't wary of the mission he was assigned to lead would be a lie. As of day one of his joining the general infantry, the Council had already assigned him an upper rank on account of his accolade, being the son of the now dead former Kazekage. But of the general infantry, the members selected to accompany Gaara on the date of his mission appeared to be the rookie ones most openly skittish about him.

Gaara, who had been used to trailing behind at the rear on missions with his siblings, now took the lead as his teammates both lacked the geographical knowledge or the impetus to travel ahead themselves. Gaara's subordinates' skill levels also being items to be desired, they also ended up tacking on a few hours to take more civilian-accessible routes rather than shinobi shortcuts over deep waters or high cliffs. And, because they were fearful of Gaara's attempts to aid.

Gaara walked across the small river separating him from the Konoha team he was meant to meet. As the apparent mission head and having read the briefing, he wasn't surprised upon seeing Team Kakashi—Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha—among their number.

"Sorry we're late," Gaara apologized to the Konoha team already there.

"G-g-Gaara!" Naruto stuttered out as Sasuke simply gave one of his indifferent grunts upon seeing that Gaara would be leading the Sunagakure half of their joint mission.

"Oh, don't worry, Gaara," Naruto's sensei—Kakashi Hatake—replied. "You're right on time. We got here a little early, that's all."

"No," Gaara corrected flatly as his subordinates said their sorrys. "We were a little late. My apologies," he said himself, bowing deeply.

"… Eh?" Naruto's sensei frowned behind his mask, taking in the too deep and too long bow. While Gaara understood the deeper the bow, the more respect the bow was meant to convey, he still didn't quite get how deep was too deep.

Behind Naruto's sensei was Naruto himself. And weirded out, Naruto decided to toss a rock at Gaara. Unperturbed, Gaara had his automatic sand barrier block it—though he consciously let the rock fall to the ground rather than… hurl it back. Behind him, Gaara's two subordinates dove for cover out of fear of Gaara's jutsu—under nearby shrubbery.

Naruto oww-ed as his sensei yanked one of his ears in an informal reprimand. "—Just a way of greeting him—! Throwing rocks won't hurt No-Brows anyway, right?" Naruto asked rhetorically as his ear was released and Gaara watched on.

"—Huh?! Where'd the other two go? Man—what's up with that—they're such wimps!" Naruto continued to exclaim, realizing Gaara's two other teammates scattered as a result of Naruto invoking the former's sand barrier. "—Hey, why isn't 'Make-Up Guy' and 'Fan Lady' with you?" Naruto then asked, hyperactively switching topics and referring to Kankuro and Temari, respectively.

Gaara blinked as Naruto's kunoichi teammate—the pink haired one that had reminded him of someone else—"Sakura Haruno" according to the mission briefing and Gaara's previous Chunin Exam run-in—yanked Naruto's other ear to correct the former about Kankuro's and Temari's correct forms of address.

"I'm currently enlisted under the regular forces," Gaara said to explain the recent team change before introducing his teammates in the bushes… who didn't bother to exit them even upon the introduction. Yaoki and Korobi, their names were. "They're still rookies. Please be patient with them," Gaara told Kakashi, bowing his head.

Kakashi introduced his own team, formally. Sakura Haruno was perhaps the only one whose name Gaara was unfamiliar with so the introductions were more for his subordinates than himself.

The two teams then moved off to the treetops for a more defensible forested region for a joint briefing, Gaara's team keeping their wide berth of him. Naruto, brash as always, ended up suggesting what was a daytime surprise assault—though in less eloquent language—to which Gaara accepted, not minding it any more or less over the proposed midnight one of the Konoha team's sensei. At the end of it Gaara, however, pulled said sensei aside.

"Someone tracking you?" Kakashi asked knowingly after Gaara dropped to the ground from the treetop briefing for greater privacy.

"Yes… hopefully they won't cause much interference. But I thought you should know," Gaara replied, his eyes narrowing sadly.

"You seem to have an idea of who."

"The upper levels of my village hate me. I may cause you trouble, but…" Gaara trailed off, trying to pick his next words.

"It's fine with me," Kakashi interrupted. Gaara gave him a wide-eyed stare. "This mission will only be meaningful if Konoha and Suna complete this mission and tighten our bonds. The more problems we face together, the stronger our bonds will become," the sensei from Konoha told him, apparently unbothered by whatever bad blood Suna and Konoha once held.

"The more problems we face together, the stronger our bonds will become," Gaara mentally echoed. He bowed his head and they moved off.

Kankuro (approximate time: 10:30 AM)

Kankuro exited Temari's rooms with a buzz of excitement under his fingertips. He didn't know what game the Council would try to play, but he had the strangest feeling… that Gaara would win.

"Thanks for pushing the Council a bit, that last bit you did, shishou," Kankuro said quietly. He had been busy that day, making stops to check in on all his close contacts—his sister and his shishou included. Only, Kankuro knew the Council approving the creation of his brother's banking account—and his enlistment into the standard infantry so soon was not coincidental.

Kankuro's shishou was quiet as he picked out one of the rear wires of a mangled puppet body. "Don't thank me yet, punk," he said as he adjusted his magnifying lens. "You have no idea how much trouble this is giving me…"

Kankuro's gaze shifted, letting out a small exhale. He didn't think it'd have anything bad on his—

"—Help me out here, would you? My eyes aren't as great as they used to be," his shisho said, seemingly changing the subject.

Kankuro's brow furrowed before sidling up next to his shishou to begin removing the wire giving his elder trouble. As his fingers ran over the puppet chassis, he realized there was something uniquely familiar about it. "This is Karasu's old body, isn't it."

"Right on the head," came the reply. "Konoha did a number on it—the wood's too mangled to be reused, but we can still salvage the wires for something else before dumping the rest. Better to get 'em out whole so we don't have to melt them down and thin them out again. But a bit too much precision work for these eyes though."

Kankuro blinked, not knowing what to say to that. "Wait. Is this the project that's been giving you trouble since the last Council meeting?!" Kankuro asked, suddenly incredulous.

The elder puppeteer gave a bark of laughter. "Well, anything to skip a Council meeting, am I right? Come on, what did you punks even do in there—ramble a bucket or two how bureaucracy's not going to let you become punks become chunin?"

There was a blank blink, of exasperation this time, from one of them. "Well, yeah."

That got the elder puppeteer chuckling goodnaturedly. But Kankuro knew there was something more to his shishou's absence during the last Council meeting. He watched his shishou's face carefully as it sobered up.

"… The Council's recent friendliness isn't without reason," Kankuro's shishou finally said at last. "If I say any more, I might end up in trouble, but somehow I've been supposed to overlook the special ordering of two elite war-class puppets equipped with water jutsu capabilities apparently for two rookie genin."

Kankuro grimaced, knowing where his shishou was going. Lemme guess, both assigned to a mission with Gaara… Rookie genin though… so that means… Kankuro's brow furrowed again. "Hang on, wait. I know who heads the ANBU is technically classified but wasn't that punk also—" Kankuro broke off and swallowed the rest of his words, realizing his shishou couldn't possibly answer his question out loud—not without potential Council ramifications.

An ANBU-level assassination—now?!? From the head of the ANBU—Even after Father's—So the Council must have been the one to order—

"—I—thank you, shishou," Kankuro said seemingly abruptly.

Kankuro's shishou lifted a brow, smirking if only ever so slightly. The elder did not need to spell out what needed to be said, though he did allow his student some time to let his thoughts reel and recover. Kankuro took it.

After a moment, the elder puppeteer let out a breath. "… All of this 'shishou' business," he started upon taking in Kankuro's recent change in war paint during the silence. While it had been used as Kankuro's design for a while now, it had been the first time the elder puppeteer had been able to take it in, in person.

"I don't go around calling everyone 'punk' because I care about all those honorific things… You've gotten older now and you're no longer the rookie student I once took on… And after a certain amount of time, even the teachers run out of things to teach. At that point, the teacher's no longer a teacher—and that teacher becomes a friend," Kankuro's shishou told him, his tone having shifted slightly, pensive despite starting out almost flippant.

Kankuro met his shishou's eyes, his mind wondering where his shishou was going.

"You've caught up to everything I've had to teach you, Kankuro. In terms of politics and puppetry. I daresay you're at least my equal now, in those two items, if nothing else. The rest, you just need experience… Please, call me 'Takeo'. You've earned it," he said.

"Sir?" Kankuro asked, uncertain. It seemed so informal—so—

"Aye, just because I'm out of things to teach you doesn't mean you should stop learning though—you've got a long way to go before you hit the legendary levels of puppetry… In my eyes, it's just about time you start walking outside of us old-pokes' shadows."

Kankuro felt himself warm with emotion as he bowed his head. "I understand, shishou," he told his elder.

Gaara (approximate time: 12:00 PM)

Gaara took the lead, en route to the bandit hold they had to attack after separating from the Konohagakure team. From behind him, there was the same chatter of his two subordinates that had kept Gaara company throughout the recent mission. While they were just barely out of civilian earshot, we might know their topic of discussion about Gaara's jutsu to be rather tactless considering Gaara's presence. Especially as Shukaku himself yowled something about deadly jutsu needing to be respected.

But something in the phrasing of Shukaku's comment led to Gaara turning around to look behind him. With a glint of a kunai approaching, Gaara sent his sand out behind his subordinates to block.

"A foe!" his teammates exclaimed, whirling around. "Is it the bandits?"

"No. Their target… is me," Gaara said aloud, taking in the positioning of his team, the direction of aim the dispatched kunai had, and then the trap he was in being in heavily forested sandless land and unable to escalate in force without risking his teammates themselves.

Puppets jumped out of his subordinates' backpack-like carrying cases. Apparently without their discretion as they exclaimed in shock. "The puppets—why are they!?"

The puppets, controlled by foreign chakra strings, gathered into an attack pattern. Gaara blocked the attack, only for the strings to bond to the chakra in his sand barrier and begin to constrict. Water, sprayed from the puppets via some jutsu, began to weigh down his sand.

"Get out of here," Gaara commanded his team as Shukaku began to flare his own chakra to counter the move. YyyRRraaaAAAH—kiLL thEM, Kill tHeM, KILL THEM—! The sand barrier took on a claw-like shape and Gaara momentarily closed his eyes as his mind was forcefully tugged back into Shukaku's seal chamber.

"We'll be killed!" Gaara heard Korobi yell.

Gaara flared his eyes open, worried Shukaku had kicked out of control while he was occupied in his mind. If the assassination attempt were to go awry, Gaara realized his subordinates would be considered acceptable collateral. He had to keep Shukaku under control in order to keep his teammates alive. Shutting his eyes within Shukaku's nonphysical chamber, Gaara sensed the signatures of subordinates growing distant. They were running away, following his order. Or out of fear.

A new voice called out—a voice muffled by a mask. "That's right, that Jinchuriki is nothing but a killing machine who thinks nothing of human lives! He's a monster who enjoys nothing but killing!" he yelled to Gaara's subordinates.

No, Gaara told himself, remembering. His promise to himself, after meeting Naruto. The people who had run from him before, out of fear of him as a monster. Gaara snapped out of it, opening his eyes, pupils… irises that were constricted and distorted with Shukaku's input of chakra re-dilating to normal sizes. His promise to himself was that his fate as a Jinchuriki was not going to be that of a monster.

Gaara took in the assassins—all of them in oni masks—the main one of them rambling about the puppet weapons of Gaara's teammates being death traps for the latter. Curious, which one of them was more intent on walking the path of a monster.

Kankuro (approximate time: 12:00 PM)

"Sir, maybe… this is a good chance for me to rebuild Karasu myself," Kankuro said to his shishou, "From start to finish this time," he said.

Takeo paused in what he was doing before giving Kankuro an appraising look. Karasu the puppet had been a hand-me-down from another skilled puppeteer that had gone rogue. While Kankuro had been the only student at the time capable of disarming the booby traps left, thereby winning its ownership in the eyes of the Puppeteer Corp, the puppet was never truly his to begin with.

"Maybe it is," Kankuro's shishou agreed. "Maybe it is."

…

Kankuro set his woods—random bits of hardened scrapwood the Puppeteer Corp had—into a steamer and then into a bending table for drying. That was in order to shape the wood for the body and arms. The process would take hours, if not days because of the bending and drying process but once it was over, he could reattach the wires from Karasu's original body, rearm the booby traps, and engage the weapon launchers.

The scrapwood was hardly the ideal substance to rebuild a puppet in Kankuro's eyes, but it was all he had available until he could go on a mission to retrieve better wood himself. From Karasu's old body, the only thing that would remain the same from the previous owner would be the wires.

It was a long waiting process for the wood to soak and then dry, but Kankuro would be occupied by something else for the duration.

Takeo dragged out another puppet across a different workbench. "This is Kuroari," he introduced. "Same deal as last time. If you can disarm him, he's yours."

Kankuro took in the ragged cloth that covered the body chassis and the same multi-jointed arms that resembled Karasu's. It was the same maker, he knew from examining the joint work. Luckily, the original maker of his two puppets weren't fond of explosions or the first puppeteer to have found the puppets would've exploded them, the first instinct most puppeteers had when they saw a new puppet to attach chakra strings. While it would've effectively prevented theft of the puppet and its secrets, it also would've left Kankuro without a "plaything".

He remembered when he first had the assignment of disarming Karasu when he was eight—he had the watch of his shishou, the upper department of the Puppeteer Corp, and a medic-nin. It was before he started working up immunity to Suna-native poisons. Now, it was just his shishou and him. And his poison immunity was now second-to-none for Suna-native poisons.

Kankuro, knowing the new puppet was booby trapped, would be looking for the seal that would've meant only specific chakra signatures could use it—such as that of the original maker—and the needle launching traps the original maker was so fond of.

"Well, let's get this party started, shall we?" Kankuro said.

Katiya (approximate time: known)

She made her way back to Otogakure, quite a bit on her mind. She replayed a battle she had with Guren—Guren's skill not waning since the last time they battled. She had grown stronger, even, Guren.

"Just you wait, Katsu! This is going to be a battle you'll lose!" Guren yelled in Katiya's memory, smoothly deflecting Katiya's attacks using two of her giant shuriken creations before back flipping to a farther distance and hurling them.

Katiya had raised a brow at the attempt of an insult on her pseudonym. "Trying to avoid resorting back to name-calling, are you?" she asked calmly. "You tend to do that just before losing a battle yourself," she said, referring to the Guren's penchant for name-calling.

Guren let out a yell before slamming her hands onto the floor, pink crystals sprouting from them in an expanding radius. It had startled Katiya. At the time, she took a running leap—counterintuitively towards the center of the crystal creations, then using her staff to pole-vault onto Guren herself, spiralling in the air so that the blunt end of her shoulder would clip Guren's—rather than her feet like she would have in a more unfriendly fight.

The crystalized floor began to shatter and seemingly dissolve as Guren lost concentration and the pair rolled into a heap.

After the rolling, they had come to a stop.

"Ahh… ugh." Guren put a hand over the side of her face from where she was on the ground, as if nauseated despite the small tumble. Guren had let out a breath—almost like huff as she took in her surroundings after the fall. "You know, as much as I enjoyed the fight, I'm going to have to get up at some point," Guren had said.

Guren's face was ridiculously close to her own in that moment. It had also been an embarrassing moment as Katiya came to realize she was an impediment to Guren. In her memory, she quickly extricated herself, pivoting her back to Guren and taking a few paces away to give the woman as much space she might have needed to stand and recover herself.

"Apologies," Katiya had told her as she heard Guren dust herself off and adjust her clothing. The giant rope belt—like Orochimaru's himself but tan in color—the latter had taken to wearing was apparently a new addition to her wardrobe from the difficulty Guren had been having with it, by Katiya's judgments on her memory of—sounds of—Guren wrangling with it.

"You can look now. Not like I'd ever not be as gorgeous as ever," Guren joked back.

"That was not the reason why I averted my eyes," Katiya had replied humorlessly. "I had been concerned about your decency, but it appears that I had forgotten you had none."

Guren put a hand on her hip, flicking her spiky hair bun with the other hand. Something about the lighting or age made her hair appear the color of an unpolished blue agate—either that or something in Katiya's memory was deceiving her. Guren's smirk turned into a full grin. "What d'you think, though? Not bad a fight? Lord Orochimaru's orders don't let me turn this pit into a working fight room, but I'd have definitely won if your pole-vault was any worse. Worst form I ever saw, that one you just did."

"The fight was shorter than I'd have wanted," she said in a monotone. "That pole-vault's execution is from skill, not luck. I just didn't want to damage your delicate vanity. I was worried I got a bit too used to spending all my off hours in the actual fight rooms for a friendly fight… Unless you mean to say you don't wear all the make-up you do for nothing else besides vanity?" was Katiya's counter, then.

Guren then made and hurled one of her giant crystal shuriken, with a huff and her odd mix of lightheartedness and anger, re-engaging their battle and resorting back to her old pattern of physically attacking when lacking the means to verbally defend herself. Somehow that anger of Guren's led to her later gaining a speed and power advantage during their battle.

Katiya had that sensation again—as if she were smiling when she wasn't—replaying the memory of her fight with Guren and the blows they dealt to each other.

Gaara (approximate time: 12:15 PM)

"Gaara! We've come to rescue you!" Naruto exclaimed, unleashing his signature Shadow Clone Jutsu and cutting the puppet strings surrounding Gaara. Naruto and his team must have realized there was something delaying Gaara.

"Naruto… Uzumaki," Gaara said, as if realizing his rescuer was there for him. Gaara began to free himself and his trapped sand.

"—And he's not alone!" Yaoki yelled, returning with a wooden club.

"—Gaara is our friend!" Korobi added in exclamation, similarly bearing a makeshift arm.

Gaara widened his eyes.

"Gaara! We're sorry we ran off without you!" Yaoki apologized. And unified under the same thought, Korobi declared the pair's intentions to fight alongside Gaara—Gaara having also defended them when he defended himself from the attackers. Gaara, having done nothing to harm his recent allies.

Gaara absorbed their declaration with a muted pride. "The upper levels have taken my power too lightly. It will take more than this to kill me," Gaara told his attackers now, using the freedom he gained with his allies' aid to squeeze the water out of his sand. While water weighed down his sand when it was mixed with it, he was not unused to working with it.

Gaara held his palm open and a thumb-sized sphere of dried, compressed sand took shape. He needed a precise attack to take out his assassins with the minimal harm—large amounts of control in respect to the pressure used should he accidentally strike an ally—and in accuracy of movement. All of the moves that came natural to him under Shukaku's… guidance… all of them were blunt and erratic. Glob dancing with Katiya in her later days, however, all involved but a sphere of sand.

Like some odd mix of a bullet and a bouncy-ball, Gaara's thumb-sized ball whizzed out of his palm and began to smash down the shinobi Naruto and his subordinates missed, starting with the white oni-masked one that led them.

"This is more than enough for you," Gaara told his would-be assassins. It is no longer my intention to cave into my destiny to be a monster and I can show them that they can do the same—

"Show off!" Naruto yelled lightheartedly at the display of Gaara's controlled attack of their aggressors.

—like you did for me.

The thought of making a sand coffin had come to Gaara's mind, but to do so would have been a use of lethal force. He told his brother he wanted to become Kazekage, military leader of Sunagakure. But in order to meaningfully show something, teach something, lead something, the ones on the receiving end had to be alive. What use would it be to teach the dead and lead the ones since departed?