Post Sound Four Liquidation Interlude 2: Temari

"So," Baki sighed, his gaze lifting toward the wide, empty skies of Sunagakure—not a single bird in sight in their vast desert expanse. "What Kankuro said was true, then?"

"Yes."

Temari leaned against her war fan, her expression unreadable as she studied Baki, who still looked ill-fitting in the Kazekage's cloak. It was a heavy mantle, one that had belonged to her father for as long as she could remember.

A familiar ache pulsed in her chest.

He's gone.

Her father had never been the most attentive of parents… but that didn't matter. He had been her father. He had given her life.

And now, she and her brothers were orphans.

Baki watched her closely. "You still think about him?"

Temari scoffed, shaking the thoughts away. "It's irrelevant." Her voice was firm, clipped. "He's dead. We can't afford to wallow in the past—not when our village is in such a precarious position."

"Not as precarious as before," Baki admitted with a sigh. "Thanks to the three of you, our relationship with Konoha is back to cordiality." He paused, his voice turning heavier. "But still… to think they have ninja so young and yet so capable…"

Temari's expression remained impassive, but deep down, she understood exactly what he meant.

At first, she had been in denial. She had refused to believe it, had insisted that if she and her brothers simply trained harder, worked longer, pushed further, they would surpass them.

But reality had been swift and unforgiving.

Even if she worked night and day, even if she sharpened her skills until her bones ached, it had proven futile.

Because then—she had fought her.

At first, it had been easy to dismiss her as another one of those soft kunoichi Konoha seemed so fond of producing.

A girl playing at war.

When she had stepped onto the battlefield, her nails had been manicured, her makeup perfect, her appearance more suited to a pampered doll in a noble's court than a hardened kunoichi of a hidden village.

Temari had scoffed at the sight.

Sure, she had defeated that fat ninja—the one who was that lazy bastard's friend—to advance to the finals. But Temari had chalked it up to mediocre talent, something that could be easily surpassed with enough training and discipline.

Then she fought her.

Then she heard her speak.

And for the first time in her life, since that moment—Temari had known true fear.

Not the instinctual fear of battle. Not the sharpened caution of facing a stronger opponent.

No—this had been something else entirely.

It had been the feeling of helplessness in front of something imperious, suffocating, inescapable—the feeling of standing before a serpent that would consume her whole without a second thought.

Her fingers drifted unconsciously to her throat, tracing the faint, lingering sensation of where those painted, deadly nails had dug into her skin.

"In any case," Baki's voice cut through the silence, oblivious to her discomfort. "This only proves that you were right, Temari. Pursuing reconciliation with Konoha is the best path for our village."

Temari pulled herself from her thoughts, schooling her features into neutrality.

"I imagine people aren't happy about it," she murmured.

Baki sighed, his expression tightening. "…Some aren't," he admitted begrudgingly. "Especially those who took personal offense after their acting Hokage demanded reparations. And, of course, those who lost family members in the invasion."

His shoulders rose and fell with a weary exhale. "But… I can hold them off. For now. At least until a new Kazekage takes the post."

Temari frowned.

"None of the Honored Siblings accepted the position, then?"

Baki scoffed, shaking his head. "Of course not."

His tone was edged with resignation, but not surprise.

"We've approached them multiple times. Every time, they rejected it outright. Chiyo-sama even threatened to leave the village entirely if we dared ask either of them again." He exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to his forehead. "They are the only ones with the strength and legacy to take the position without question…"

He paused, then let out a dry, self-deprecating chuckle.

"Well, it looks like Sunagakure's people will have to suffer someone like me leading them, for the time being, at least."

He offered a wry, humorless smile, but Temari could hear the exhaustion beneath it.

"Baki…" Temari's voice was quiet, frowning as she studied him.

As much as she wanted to offer comfort to the man who had been her first mentor, who had taught her the secrets of Wind Style, who had guided her and her brothers in their youth—she knew he spoke the truth.

He was never meant to be Kazekage.

No.

That role could only belong to one of her family.

But right now, they were too young, too vulnerable—and without overwhelming power to secure their claim, hidden daggers would come for their throats the moment they ascended.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Temari asked, her voice measured but firm. "We can appeal to the other elders, or—"

"Let me handle that, Temari." Baki cut in, his tone steady but unyielding. "You and your siblings have your own duty." He exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting toward the distant horizon. "Right now, we need to regain our strength. And the only way to do that is by securing our borders, ensuring that none of our neighbors look at our weakened state and decide we're easy prey."

He paused, then added, "We're fortunate that Konoha's current leadership values peace and cooperation as much as we do—especially given their ongoing conflict with their northern neighbor."

Temari nodded, though uncertainty still lingered in her mind. It was something she had personally confirmed—most of Konoha's vast manpower was either deployed on high-profile missions, reinforcing their dominance as the world's strongest ninja village, or tied up in Kusagakure, where their proxy war against Iwagakure was escalating.

The cold war between those two great villages was already showing signs of boiling over into full-blown conflict.

And Sunagakure shared a border with both of them.

"I…" Temari hesitated, frowning. "I still don't see the wisdom in allying ourselves with Konoha. If war is inevitable, shouldn't we focus on stabilizing ourselves before getting entangled in another village's affairs?"

Baki studied her for a moment, his gaze sharp yet unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

"That's your opinion, then?"

She hesitated. "…Yes, but I under—"

"No need to explain yourself." Baki waved her off. "It's good to have dissenting opinions in a village. Your father wasn't much of a believer in that, but despite what others may think… he never punished people for questioning his decisions. Even when he considered them inviolate."

He paused, letting the thought settle before continuing.

"That said, while I understand where you're coming from, Temari, you need to start looking at the bigger picture."

He met her gaze.

"Yes, we attacked Konoha recently. But even that pales in comparison to the decades of enmity we've had with Iwagakure."

Temari's lips pressed into a thin line as Baki continued.

"We have been at odds with Iwagakure in nearly every Great Shinobi War. While Konoha has never been our closest ally, we have far less history of conflict with them than we do with Iwa."

Temari frowned. "Still… why are we taking sides at all?"

"Because." Baki's expression darkened slightly. "You do remember why we attacked Konoha in the first place, don't you?"

She exhaled. "Yes. The Wind Daimyo is outsourcing missions to Konoha, which has only weakened us further."

"Exactly," Baki said. "And now, with our forces depleted, the Wind Daimyō is outsourcing even more missions to Konoha. We are in a worse position than before the invasion."

His voice dropped, serious. "Both Iwa and Konoha know this. And while Konoha has been content to let us recover, Iwagakure?" He shook his head. "The moment Kusagakure falls and Konoha is boxed in, who's to say Iwa won't turn their gaze toward us next? They know we're weak."

Temari's brows furrowed. "But Konoha could do the same."

"Yes," Baki admitted. "And yet, historically speaking, they haven't."

He leaned forward slightly.

"The current government in Kusagakure is pro-Konoha. And despite our past hostilities, Konoha has never once attempted to take advantage of our weakness." He paused, allowing that fact to sink in. "Unlike Iwagakure."

Temari remained silent, contemplating his words.

"This isn't just about politics," Baki added. "Between Konoha and Iwagakure, the Land of Fire possesses something we need most."

Temari's eyes narrowed slightly. "Food?"

Baki smiled faintly. "So you did listen to your tutors. Yes. Food. Agricultural products. Something we must import. Iwagakure has none."

His expression softened slightly. "And there's also the fact that Konoha treated you honorably when you were their prisoner."

Temari idly nodded, recalling her time in Konoha after the failed invasion. She had never been shackled, never mistreated. Instead, she had been given her own quarters, access to information, and treated with a level of respect she hadn't expected.

"…And a ninja of theirs helped Gaara a lot, too."

Baki inclined his head. "That, too. We owe them a lot for Gaara," He faintly smiled.

"Which reminds me," He turned to her fully, a faint smile on his face forming.

"You should start preparing."

Temari arched a brow. "For what?"

"The next Chunin Exams."

Temari blinked, momentarily thrown off. "What?" She stated. "Is it really wise to send us to something like that when our village needs all its shinobi pulling their weight?"

"It's exactly why you need to go," Baki countered. "We need to show the world that while we may be licking our wounds, the next generation of Sunagakure shinobi are just as formidable as ever."

His gaze sharpened. "The upcoming Chuunin Exams will be far tenser than the last. The eyes of the world will be on it—rival villages, potential clients, and enemies alike. We need to show them strength."

He let the words sink in, then added, "…Not to mention, your brother needs to start displaying his power in public."

Temari frowned. "Gaara?"

Baki nodded. "It's the only way people will start to accept him… as Kazekage."

Temari froze, her mind struggling to process the weight of those words. "Wait, I thought you said you'd remain Acting Kazekage for a few more years?"

"I will." Baki's voice was steady. "But only for a year or two at most." He exhaled slowly, watching her reaction. "Your brother… he is the only one who can fill that role. And to do that, he must begin forging a reputation that is separate from what he was known for before."

His gaze softened—just slightly. "And you must help him do that."

"That is the responsibility you and Kankuro must bear."

Temari remained silent, but she understood.

The truth was laid bare before her.

Sunagakure could not afford to remain neutral.