"Fuck you Daimyo" in A Minor | By : TheColorsofSand Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1204 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
TheColorsofSand
midnightboatman@netscape.net
"Fuck you Daimyo" in A minor
Naruto
"Fuck you Daimyo" in A minor
Well this is horrible. Temari could think of a great many other things she would prefer to be doing than this right now. Not that she didn’t enjoy sleeping, but it is hard to sleep when all you hear are your two brothers clearly fucking not three feet away! The blonde ninja turned over in her little sleeping roll and covered her head with her arms. I will kill them as soon as they put some fucking clothes on!
This little camping expedition merited a little more than ‘just for the fun’ of it. Now that Gaara had become the Sand’s new Kazekage and therefore their ‘wonderful and exalted leader’ Temari’s little brother had better things to do with his time (although apparently not better people to do in said time.). Being the leader of one of the five great hidden ninja villages had several various downsides other than certain lack of family time; this whole ordeal for example. The title Kazekage of the Village Hidden in the Sand implied some kind of allegiance with the leader of the country it was hidden in. Therefore Gaara's responsibility (and his two older siblings', now bodyguards) included making friendly with the feudal lord of the Wind Country. Hence the whole stupid expedition.
Temari was pissed. She had sand in every accessible (and some not accessible) crevice of her body, the cold bit, she couldn't sleep, and Gaara made the only noise across the whole damnable desert, whimpering something about his older brother. She was now scarred for life. With steely resolve she shut her eyes tight and tried to concentrate on other things.
The sound of the wind over the dunes. A quiet, soft sound, rushing sound... Ssssshhhhhhhhh... "Ssshhhh, Gaara, be quiet Temari will hear us."
Well it's a bit late for that. Temari groaned. God, this is so horrible. The blonde ninja plugged her ears and pulled her little sleeping roll over her head. This was going to be inconceivably terrible.
Gaara could think of no other pair of arms he'd rather have around him than Kankuro's. His older brother always held him after sex, his long arms around his waist and his head resting on his chest or shoulder snoring softly. Gaara ran his long fingers through his brother's muddy brown hair. The new Kazekage kissed his sleeping lover's forehead, and glanced over at his older sister, finally asleep. We've scarred her for life.
The desert sky spread jewel clear above as usual, each star lit to its brightest. These next few days held very little promise for Gaara or his siblings, duties of the Kazekage or not, the trip seemed futile even before it started. He had never met the feudal lord, there had been some correspondence when Gaara had become Kazekage, but the two had never met face-to-face or spoken directly. Honestly he had not wanted to come, but duty called, and Kankuro leapt at the chance for a night alone with Gaara, and Temari just couldn't wait to get the hell out of Suna. He and Kankuro had enjoyed their night thoroughly. Temari; not so much.
Kankuro stirred slightly and snorted in his sleep. Gaara smiled a rare and genuine smile, and kissed his lover again. Tomorrow, mid-morning, a small group from the capital would meet them at the edge of the sparse pine forest just in the distance. No need to travel at night meeting civilians. The three welcomed a break from desert travel. The two brothers took full advantage of the stop, making up for the three days they would be forced to keep their hands to themselves. Temari, at least, would be grateful.
Their sister had accepted the relationship rather well, save for the occasional payback when they kept her awake at night. Gaara suspected there would be severe consequences for tonight’s episode. They probably deserved it.
Gaara studied his brother’s face for a moment. Very handsome. Safety wrapped around him in Kankuro’s arms. If he’d any concept of love, he’d be sure he felt it here. The red head pulled the sleeping brunette ever closer. The puppeteer stirred slightly, and kissed his brother’s chest. Gaara smiled.
Kankuro woke in Gaara’s arms, to Temari’s grumbling. Not necessarily a bad morning. The older boy yawned and sat up, brushing the sand from his clothes. He smiled down at his lover and stood, then held a hand out to Gaara and helped him to his feet. The sun hovered just over the dunes, the light and heat creeping over the sand. The dark and shivery cold of the night already sinking back into the yellow waves. Gaara would have liked an earlier start, but watching Kankuro sleep entertained him far more than walking across the desert.
Kankuro kissed his little brother’s forehead and ran a hand briefly through his red hair. He smirked and turned slightly towards his younger sister.
“So how’d you sleep Temari?” The blonde glared at him, with a nasty look that could rival her younger brother’s given a little practice.
“You two need to get an effing room. That’s disgusting. If you ever do it again I swear I’ll vomit in your underwear drawer.”
“That’s gross Temari.” The kunoichi rolled her eyes at the eldest and threw a handful of sand in his direction.
“Not half as gross as hearing you guys ‘sliding’ all over the sand.” With a practiced method the two older siblings hefted their packs and weapons onto their packs and followed the youngest out over the sand.
He led them across the dune desert until the ground grew firm and rocky and sparse low growth appeared. The dry evergreen forest loomed ever closer. Dead, solitary trees stood alone and bone white against the sky, evidence of the quickly expanding butte, and soon, sand desert, sucking even the thin short pine forests dry. Behind the white-bone trees the half moon hung just visible, gray against the sky blue. The forest lay just ahead.
“This is really eerie; I’ve never seen skeleton trees before.” Temari shuddered slightly, and tried to hide it. Gaara and Kankuro remained quiet, but a slight shudder crawled down Kankuro’s spine also. Only the older siblings seemed in any hurry to leave the veritable pine graveyard.
The desert came to an abrupt edge just before the bare stand of trees. Exactly what caused such abrupt change remained a mystery, how long it would stay that way, remained likewise uncertain. Undergrowth grew in meager patches and the ground had accumulated a thick liner of orange pine needles. There didn’t seem to be much difference from the needles in the trees and those on the ground. Only a divine miracle had saved it from burning long ago. The harsh winds the wind country had been named after blew away any valuable soil at a depressing rate, every year the desert grew by feet, into the evergreens on the slight mountains and eventually into the valley oases.
The siblings had arrived early. No one in any direction, not any living, moving thing at all. Even the trees stood still. They had an hour left, at least, and Gaara and Kankuro had three more days of only purely virtuous acts. Gaara turned to Temari and spoke for the first time that day.
“I think you have something to do in the trees where you can’t see us, you should go. Kankuro, take your pants off.” Kankuro didn’t argue, and in a flash, his pants had disappeared. Temari took Gaara’s advice and, very quickly, disappeared also.
Sounds carried in a forest more than Temari had expected. At least the night before she'd been mostly unconscious, what would she do now?
"Kankuro, stop fucking around and just do it.” Well that was something I just didn’t need to know. If two brothers fuck in the forest and they don’t think anyone’s listening, do they still make lots of noise? Somewhere, not nearly far enough away, Gaara answered her. Temari gagged and jumped up into the trees, the distance did not relieve her in any way. The blonde sighed and considered her last resort, they would probably hear her, but she’d rather they hear her sing, than have to hear them go at it. Out of her vast repertoire Temari chose the loudest, longest song she could find on short notice and sang until the song echoed in the forest and all she could only hear her own voice.
The trees shook in the slight wind, and the brown and orange needles crunched underfoot. Temari couldn’t hear Gaara and Kankuro anymore, thankfully, but didn’t lower her voice anyway, just in case. The forest grew deceptively deeper and darker the farther she went, and soon the sand kunoichi grew confident enough to stop singing and explore a bit more.
Trees in general held an exciting foreign concept to the ninja from Suna. Though they had certainly seen them before, Temari still wondered a little whenever she saw them. These trees did not change nearly so much as those in Konoha, though they grew a bit quicker. She’d seen them both in the cold and hot seasons, and they never lost their green (or in some cases brown) color. The ones in Konoha and several other places she’d been changed color from season to season and often lost their leaves and grew new ones. Though the reasons why seemed perfectly practical, she still awed over them a little.
Voices began reflecting back at her once again, but before she could even roll her eyes or cringe, the source of the voices marched over the slight rise just ahead. They did not belong to her brothers, or even a small group of people, but what appeared to be a parade, headed through the pine forest. The feudal lord had arrived at last, and in a few moments he and his entire party would march right through the trees to the predetermined meeting place, where Gaara and Kankuro waited for them. Well... almost; where Gaara and Kankuro lay naked screwing each other for the entire world to see. If she hadn’t been so sure they would both kill her, she would have rather enjoyed seeing them caught. But no... she knew for a certain fact that Gaara would have her stuffed and mounted out front to warn off those who would disobey him. If she valued her life at all, she had better high-tail it back to her brothers and warn them before they forever embarrassed themselves in front of a man they had never met and would have to deal with for possibly the rest of their lives.
Temari felt pretty confident they didn’t see her, before they could notice her; she leapt up into the trees and towards the two other siblings. The blonde had a good idea of what she would find, but she’d have time to shudder uncontrollably later. Stupid effing echoes, can't tell where the fuck anything is coming from in time... I hate trees. The girl burst through the trees, spraying sand and pine needles over the two lovers (not that a little more sand and a few more pine needles really made a difference considering they had already pretty well rolled through them).
“Holy shit, get your clothes on, here they come!” Without hesitation, in nearly one fluid motion the brothers bolted to their feet, naked and scrambling for their scattered clothing. The feudal lord’s party approached through the forest, Temari could just see them only a bit ahead. Wouldn’t it be just wonderful fun for the feudal lord to catch them like this?
“Gaara, these aren’t my pants!” Fun stuff, fun stuff. In less than twenty seconds the feudal lord and a collection of his men would veritably march over the hill and through the forest to catch their first glimpse of the Kazekage and his ninja; half naked, covered in sand and forest debris, with his brother. One of those wonderful first impressions Gaara excelled at. She had to at least do something to buy some time, or at the very least hide them from sight.
“You two owe me for this; now get down so they can’t see you.” The sand kunoichi unstrapped the giant fan and opened it resting one end on the ground and leaning on the top end, her hands folded under her chin, her best phony smile plastered on her face, and she watched the party approach. She did her best not to betray exactly what her brothers happened to be doing behind the fan. While Gaara and Kankuro straightened their mussed hair and brushed the sand from their clothes, a party of nearly fifty people marched through the forest headed by a canvassed litter and three men on white-and-black horses.
Gaara managed to dress just in time, and stood just a moment before his brother. With a just audible ‘zip’ Temari closed the fan and tied it to her back once again. The party before them remained silent, almost eerily quiet, for such a large number of people. The three siblings also stayed quiet, for a moment the wind made the only sound. Fifty people. He said a ‘small group’ how could fifty people possibly constitute a ‘small group’; it’s a mob. Gaara waited for the feudal lord, who he assumed must be in the ridiculous red-canvassed litter. He’d sand in more places than he cared to and already this man grated on his nerves. Being snuck up on by a man he already didn’t like, scrambling naked in the sand, and then standing here like an idiot covered in pine needles just didn’t make the ideal beginning for a great day.
The red canvass fluttered for a moment, then one of the horsemen reached over and pulled a curtain back. The feudal lord sat just inside on a great red cushion attempting a pleasant smile. His robes, elaborately patterned and spotless, folded perfectly around him where he sat. Something on a long chain around his neck sparkled in the dim light. Twelve men carried the litter, and fifty accompanied him in a parade, waving flags and carrying banners. The lord had written he would be accompanied by a ‘small’ group of people. Gaara had agreed to likewise set out with only a small group of people (not that he could afford to spare more than a few). To Gaara and ninja in general, ‘small’ meant two to three. Apparently the lord’s measure of ‘small’ bore no resemblance to Gaara’s own definition. For a moment, he wondered what other definitions would vary so extremely, and then opted not to think about it. Better not to pile on the stress anymore than necessary. After a moment of staring, the man (too old to be young, but not quite old enough to gain him any respect) shifted slightly on his plush cushion and spoke at last, to Kankuro.
“So then, this must be the new Kazekage, of Sunagakure.” He intentionally spoke down to him. If he hadn’t already seemed like such an idiot, Gaara would have been sure he intentionally made to mistake Kankuro for the Kazekage, rather than acknowledge him.
Gaara had learned new things in the past years, things like; the benefit of the doubt. Though he hated to admit it, Kankuro certainly did make him seem even smaller. There had never been a Kazekage so young. The mistake could be easily made. Gaara would allow him this one mistake; give him the benefit of the doubt.
Kankuro looked up, stuck in a bit of a catch. He could just say the man had made a mistake and make him look like an idiot, or let Gaara do it, and make his younger brother look like an idiot. He still didn’t know if he would like this feudal lord or not, but he had to live with Gaara. However, before he could open his mouth to speak, Temari made the decision for him. She snorted.
“No, that’s the Kazekage’s older brother. This is Gaara.” She pointed in her younger brother’s direction. The man in the litter only sniffed for a moment.
“Oh,” he said. “So it is the small one.” Gaara remained quiet, he’d given him a bit of leniency on that last one, but this clearly crossed the line. Rude, offensive remark number one; his size. Two years ago, just one could get you killed; now, Gaara exercised a little more self-control. Nowadays, he didn’t just kill people for no reason. With his new found calm, Gaara simply returned the gaze of the older man and said nothing.
The man looked down pointedly at Gaara, expecting some kind of response to his blatantly offensive remark. When he received none, he forced a smile and clapped his hands together quickly, in a nervous, habitual gesture.
“Very well, introductions; I am Fubarashi Fudaio, your lord of the Country of the Wind!” He looked ready to bow dramatically and pat himself on the back. He extended no other polite gesture or social grace, but waited for Gaara to give one of his own. The new Kazekage looked him up and down for a moment and decided not to give him one.
“Gaara.”
“Kankuro.”
“Temari.” Gaara stepped forward towards the way the party had come and without orders from the Daimyo, the party followed. The man frowned deeply, when the litter began moving without his direction, but did nothing to stop it.
The horsemen rode out a considerable distance before the litter and the rest of the party. With only a look from Gaara, Temari ran ahead to keep pace with the horsemen, Kankuro nodded swiftly and fell back to the back end of the party. The line formation had always yielded the best results in the past. Any ambush ever experienced by the three had been effectively repelled by the line formation.
Temari, the first in line, specialized in long-range attacks. Anything from the front, and Temari had plenty of time and firepower to virtually clean the slate with the fan in a first attack. Plenty of time for Gaara’s second attack at a medium range. Kankuro’s puppets (taking a bit longer to prepare for an attack) behind him, allowing an ideal range for combat. A scenario often played out. (Though Kankuro rarely got a chance to use his toys in such a situation.) Any attack from behind also failed. An attacker suddenly found themselves facing the business end of the eldest brother’s puppets, and a now forewarned Gaara on the way, their secret weapon in any situation, Temari not far behind in the instance anyone attempted to get too far out of her brothers’ range. An attack from the sides derailed even more quickly, with a first attack from Gaara and the two other equidistant on either side.
Honestly their presence reassured the Kazekage. Good to know two skilled ninja stood at the ready to assist in either killing people, or to stop him from killing people as the case may be.
The curtain around the ornate litter pulled back. Gaara, walking beside the man-powered carriage, pretended not to notice and stared straight ahead.
“I hope you’ve had a good journey so far. It’s quite a distance to walk.” He accented ‘walk’ ever so slightly. Gaara ignored the comment. He wouldn’t be caught dead in a thing like that, carried around wherever he went. He’d be embarrassed to do it.
“We’ve walked farther before.”
“Ah.” Fubarashi clapped again, clearly some nervous habit of his. “Well we’ve got quite a time ahead of us, so many things to do. I assume you’ve never seen the capital?”
“Never.”
“Well then, there is just so much to see.”
Gaara listened with half an ear. It certainly didn’t sound like much would get done. The red-head didn’t come here for a tour of the city, or concerts and restaurants or any of the things the Daimyo went on about while they marched through the forest. He’d an obligation to Suna, to do all he could to ensure they continued to prosper and grow. Sunagakure had to support at the very least, a base amount of ninja. Any fewer than said base amount, and both Suna and the Wind Country could be in trouble. Without business being sent their way (which they had lacked for years now) Suna could even face disappearing altogether. They had Konoha’s support, but they really needed the support of the Wind Country. There had to be a policy change, and Gaara had to find a way to convince the Daimyo of that. Gaara feared Sunagakure may dry up on the desert sand. At any cost, that could not happen. Gaara had come here to make sure.
Fubarashi Fudaio, however, seemed very determined about ensuring they didn’t have the time. No where in his meticulous schedule did the Kazekage and the feudal lord have any time to discuss any real or important matters. Even now, walking through the forest, the Daimyo in his cushioned throne, the Kazekage walking on the ground beside him, Gaara couldn’t get a word in edge-wise. Non-stop gum-flapping about schedules, the vices of ninja, and his wonderful thirty-something reign over the Wind Country.
“And tonight you will see the concert house I built for my fifth anniversary since becoming the Lord of the country. The doors into the courtyard always stand open during a performance, so that all that walk by can hear the most beautiful music. It’s very popular. I’m sure you’ve simply never seen anything like it. I’ve always heard ninja can be so uncultured and... brutish. Present company excluded I’m sure...”
Gaara’s left eye twitched ever so slightly. R.O.R number twelve; assuming lack of cultural experience. They’d traveled an hour, just one hour, and at least twelve rude, offensive remarks (which he shortened to R.O.R to save time), more than a hundred pointed looks down on him and various snorts, and he lost count at several hundred times he’d clapped his hands. Without ever saying a word Gaara had somehow consented to several excursions to shopping centers, guided tours, and dinners at themed restaurants. The constant jabbering made his head ache. He’d things they needed to talk about, but right now he’d have preferred silence to the Daimyo’s shrill tenor.
How could this man talk so much without stopping? Gaara did his best to ignore the voice. He’d enough voices in his own head to irritate him lifetimes over; he’d no use for one on the outside. No need to listen to one he’d less control over than his own. Unfortunately another voice listened in with half an ear, one certainly still on the inside, but also one he’d almost no control over. This one liked to take advantage of frayed nerves and pure irritation. With so many people, important people no less, around, the demon Shukaku just couldn’t help but to rear it’s ugly head once again, hoping to wear Gaara’s limited control over him.
Perhaps he does not have to breathe. Gaara nearly growled out loud. Shukaku had grown progressively quieter throughout the last year. Gaara became harder to tempt with the passage of time, he’d learned to ignore the voice.
What? Nothing for me? No witty retort or good-natured banter? I suppose I cannot expect much, you never were good for a witty conversation.
What do you want?
Want? I’d perhaps settle for a conversation, we’ve not spoken in a while, and it is unlike you to suffer the talk of fools.
I stopped speaking to you for that reason among many others. Gaara could feel the creature laughing. Feel his gravel voice change pitch and feel the rumbling in his chest as though he himself were laughing.
Perhaps you are better at this than I gave you credit. But surely my presence is preferred to his. At least you and I can speak of more interesting things. The only noise he seems good for is a crunch. Wouldn’t he make a very pleasant crunching noise Narcissus? Gaara remained quiet. He would not have lasted long with you not so many months ago...
I have changed. Things like that will never happen again.
Really? Suffering through the babbling of fools and idiots is far worse! His disrespect is enough to condemn him! They should be slaughtered and taught some respect for those far more powerful than they!
You already know you can’t tempt me to do this anymore. I won’t just give into you; I’ve greater will power than that.
Then I will do it! They’ve insulted me more even than they’ve insulted you, just by ignoring my presence!
Under no circumstances will you ever see the light of day again! The demon growled, deep in the recesses of his soul where Shukaku dwelled he growled, losing his patience with his vessel.
You are nothing but my empty vessel... The Tanuki’s voice grew quiet. What could you ever do to stop me? Gaara felt the conversation growing more and more dangerous. Shukaku felt the insistent push of Gaara’s will and growing sanity. In the rare occasion Gaara’s nerves and still shaky sanity allowed him to speak, he needed to take full advantage of the opportunity, and attempt to take control. If his vessel grew any more powerful, he may never get the chance again.
Gaara knew it too. He trusted his will power in the large part, but he’d never experienced Shukaku at full power. If the demon became desperate enough to force him, he couldn’t guarantee everyone’s safety. The time had come to end the conversation, but Shukaku seemed determined to hold on.
You never even realized your own potential, what makes you think you know mine? You can’t do a thing against me! You’re just a fool Narcissus.
If I have to get myself killed to stop you, I won’t let you out again. The demon chuckled once more, but this time he’d no humor in his voice.
You can’t be harmed, remember? Let alone be killed, many have tried, including yourself. The sand prevents any harm from coming to you.
No thanks to you. If I had to, I think I could manage it, even with your sand. This time he heard humor in his voice.
You think the sand is mine? Fool child, it’s all yours and always was. I would welcome the end of your life! Then at least I’d be free of the damnable cage you are.
I was not meant to be a cage for you.
No, but you failed at that. Now you’re only a cage for me. On the verge of failing at that as well it seems. The least you could do is go with some dignity and let me out.
I won’t.
Maybe if you go willingly, I won’t slaughter your delightful little boyfriend, you’ve been having so much fun with...
Leave Kankuro out of this conversation! The demon’s snicker left chills down Gaara’s spine. The demon grew ever more dangerous. If this continued Gaara would have to leave, he would have to pacify the demon some way, to quiet him enough to regain his slipping control. What ever the consequences of leaving might be, staying would be even more dangerous.
This conversation is over.
Yes, perhaps the time for talking has passed. Shukaku pushed. Gaara felt him actually pushing. For a moment the red-head panicked, the urge to submit squeezed around him everywhere. Sand gathered around his fingers into extended claws, and more sand gathered on his palms, to prevent him from injuring his hands when he clenched his fists tight. Gaara ground his teeth. Not good.
His body moved of its own accord, keeping time with the twelve men and the Daimyo hoisted on their shoulders. Even his expression hardly gave him away. Fubarashi did not notice anything had changed. He continued to talk, and talk, and talk, for a moment Gaara considered letting the demon have him, and his sanity slipped just a little bit further.
His teeth pointed. Somehow his legs would not listen; he could not even attempt to put any distance between himself and the fifty plus people that would surely die.
A familiar hand found his shoulder. Gaara startled for a moment. Had the hand belonged to anyone else, it would not have for long, but the fact that it belonged to Temari saved many lives. She had fallen back and now walked side-by-side with him. Temari, even better than Kankuro, could tell when something went wrong. She leaned in closely so the Daimyo could not hear.
“Gaara, are we alright, or should we be moving in another direction?” His sister provided a valuable distraction. For a moment, even the demon lost his concentration. Gaara’s will power gained a tentative foothold. Shukaku felt confident enough for a surprise approach, Temari becoming aware of the situation complicated matters for him. Breaking through Gaara’s will power had become difficult enough. Fighting the brat’s siblings would be more trouble than the troupe seemed worth. Miles from any real population, Shukaku just didn’t have the advantage any longer.
Feel like pushing still? Temari’s very fast and Kankuro will be here soon.
Damn. Well I do enjoy keeping you on your toes. The sand retracted and Gaara breathed again.
“Little brother, are you alright?” He looked up at her and nodded.
“Fine.” She nodded and pat him on the shoulder. A reassuring look from her younger brother, and she returned to the front of the party.
The feudal lord did not seem to notice that anything had happened. For a leader of a rather large country, he didn’t observe very well. And he certainly did like to hear himself talk.
The forest did not end abruptly, but thinned until, when it had gone, Kankuro hardly noticed. But when he and the very end of the troupe reached the capital, he knew it.
Nothing, save for sagebrush, grew here naturally, but transplanted gardens and meticulously cared for courtyards lined the streets. Dusk approached, in the fading light, the blooming flowers appeared especially beautiful. He could even smell them. Building, both tall and small lined the streets. In the very center of the capital, on the only hill in the otherwise flat city, the Daimyo’s enormous home sat, decked in green and pink flowers all around. As they neared the center of the city, (still liberally smattered with people) the three horsemen in front, flanked by his younger sister Temari, took out three long horns. Kankuro smiled just a little. Oh, Gaara is going to just love this.
The three horns veritably announced their presence to the world. Kankuro resisted the urge to laugh. People stopped and turned to look. The Daimyo waved to the people who rolled their eyes at him. Looks like he’s as big a joke to these people as he is to us. With trumpets blowing and flags waving, they marched into the immense expanse of property on the hill.
A cordial bow and their guide left the room, shutting the door behind her. Gaara immediately sat down beside the door, his head in one hand. With a knowing smile, Kankuro sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Gaara looked ready to pull away, but didn’t in the end, just looked over for a moment.
"I nearly killed him." Kankuro's smile faded. Not even started, and already Gaara had brushed his limits. Fubarashi said they'd be called for in an hour. Hardly time enough to rest their feet, but it’d have to do. Temari sighed and unstrapped the fan.
“Do you think you’ll ever get to talk to him Gaara?” The red head sighed likewise.
“Even with the time, I’ll never get a word in edgewise.” We might as well chalk this up to futility right now.
The room, like the night outside, at last gave in to full dark. Only a single lamp in one corner shed any light on the two boys sitting by the door. A quiet knock roused Kankuro from a light doze next to Gaara, and Temari from her book in the corner next to the lamp. Gaara only frowned; his eyes closed, but didn’t move. The oldest boy huffed to his feet, opening the door.
“Yes?” The man in the doorway could not have been thirty years old. He stood only a bit taller than Kankuro, will impeccable posture and a kind face. His short brown hair hung over one eye ever so slightly. He carried himself like a ninja. The ingrained habits only slightly apparent in the way he stood, or folded his long hands, even the way he looked over the puppet master as he stood in the doorway. Kankuro did not fail to catch the subtleties in his mannerisms.
“Good evening. I am Nakamura Akio, Lieutenant of the Daimyo. I was asked to come here to inform you of the Daimyo's intentions to leave for the concert house soon."
"Ah." Kankuro nodded stiffly, and Gaara grunted quietly, still on the floor to Kankuro’s left. Akio smiled faintly.
“Honestly, I leaped at the chance to do so, I’ve been hoping for the opportunity to meet the Kazekage for myself. It has interested me greatly to see who Suna has named their strongest ninja.”
“You came from Suna?” The man nodded.
“Yes some time ago, when I was younger. But... once a ninja always...” Kankuro stepped aside and let Nakamura in. A Suna ninja would be welcome much more than a lieutenant of the Daimyo. With an inaudible groan Gaara stood as the former ninja entered.
Nakamura Akio’s heart skipped a beat. In a rush, everything he’d learned as a ninja came back in a flash of memory. Old fear rose again in a pulse through his whole body. His right hand twitched. Then it passed, with only a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. For a moment Akio was still, and then with a slight shake of his head, his face had become friendly and kind again.
“You must be Kazekage-sama. I’m Nakamura Akio.” Temari snorted in her corner.
“At least someone gets it right.”
“Yes. I really must apologize for Fubarashi-sama. He’s never been known for his tact. If there existed an excuse for him I’m sure he would have used it by now. But there are no excuses for fools.”
“A fool is right.” Temari closed her book and stood to continue the conversation, but a look from Gaara shut her mouth rather aptly. The look did not escape Akio’s notice.
“I’ve heard of some recent troubles in the Sand village, but unfortunately Fubarashi-sama has little interest in the village, news rarely reaches this high up. I hope Suna is doing well.” Gaara crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
"We'll survive; for now. But for later... there is no guarantee, at the moment. Thanks to your master's lack of interest, most of our business has been thoroughly diverted."
"More like flushed." Another look from Gaara and Temari shut her mouth again. Akio shook his head.
“Fubarashi-sama is vindictive. He believes he was wronged somehow I think, by the previous Kazekage. If he found a way to hurt him, even just a little, he’d do it.”
“Gaara is the Kazekage now, and he hasn’t done anything to the Daimyo.” Temari in her corner looked over at Gaara, offended that he didn’t glare at Kankuro when he spoke.
“The Daimyo is distressingly stubborn. He blames all of Suna for something that may not have even happened. Honestly the only way to deal with him is to humor him. If you’re on his good side, life becomes much easier. And honestly, if you want to do that, the first step is going to that concert tonight.”
Gaara sighed very quietly. Nakamura was absolutely correct. His only friendly option left him kissing ass and smiling like a jackass while he did it. At least now he knew the Daimyo understood Suna’s situation, even if that did complicate matters a bit. This Akio had at least saved him a step, and if he truly knew the feudal lord like he seemed to, he’d more influence than Gaara did at the moment. He was a Suna ninja as well. Perhaps with Akio as a political ally, the Daimyo’s favor, and his money, (most importantly his money) could be won over by the end of the trip. If he could keep his temper in check, Suna was worth a little bit of ass-kissing. With another, silent sigh and a curt nod, Gaara straightened from the wall.
“Very well, we’ll go.”
This time the Daimyo traveled not in the litter, but by horseback, with a much smaller procession, including his lieutenant, all on horseback. Gaara and his siblings opted to walk once more, as the horses spooked whenever Gaara attempted to touch one.
The walk was relatively short. The event had been planned just so, so that when the Daimyo arrived, he'd only to walk in and sit down, and the singing would begin. With surprisingly little ceremony, the Daimyo and his small group of followers ascended into the loft above. The singers, all younger children, filed out onto the floor in their colored costumes. Two larger children dressed in red opened the large doors into the courtyard, and the performance began.
Gaara had to admit, the children were very talented. Dancing in rhythmic unison, singing in sopranos and high tenors. The young Kazekage had never particularly had any taste for music, had an appreciation for it maybe. The only music he ever listened to came from Temari, when she sang. And she sang quite often, and very loudly, whenever she got the chance. Sitting beside him, she seemed to be enjoying herself. Music, particularly voice, called to her, whether or not she knew it. Under pain of death he’d never admit it, but he enjoyed listening to her sing, admired her talent even. On his other side the Feudal Lord also appeared to be having an immensely good time. His fingers drummed quietly to the rhythm, his eyes closed. There appeared to be a common element here. If he could keep Temari’s mouth shut about anything but music, perhaps there was a way to connect them. That could prove most useful.
Kankuro, under Gaara’s direction, remained on the floor. Even here, the danger never ceased. Honestly, he would have enjoyed the show far more sitting next to his younger brother, or perhaps more on top of his younger brother. But that sort of entertainment didn’t involve the show at all. It would be better than sitting here waiting though.
Up top Gaara wore a small radio head set, practically unnoticeable, Kankuro wore its mate, just in case he was needed. Akio claimed they’d have no use for them, but Gaara, ever paranoid, insisted. Temari, sitting beside Gaara, didn’t need one. Kankuro stood there seriously considering attempting to talk dirty to Gaara through the headset but thought better of it. There’d be hell to pay if anyone else heard. Temari wouldn’t be happy about it. Or worse... Fubarashi. He’d be skinned alive if the Daimyo heard. That was not a pleasant concept.
Temari hummed along with the song. She clearly didn’t know the tune, but was making her best attempt at keeping up. She seemed to particularly like this song. There was no doubt she would be singing it for days to come.
The performers danced almost hypnotically below. The effect was intentional, and very few in the audience had eyes for anything else. This unsettled Gaara slightly. Who then, was watching for everything else? Gaara resisted the urge to fidget, or at least do something. Even his older sister seemed to be adequately entertained while he sat with nothing to do but watch closed doors.
Closed doors.
The doors were closed.
All the doors were closed.
The outside doors remained open throughout the performance. One of the various tidbits the Daimyo seemed so very anxious to bestow on him during the trip over. There had been some ceremony associated with opening the outside doors. Why were they closed now? He had never seen them shut, distracted like the rest of the crowd. He didn’t notice they’d moved, not until now. Down on the floor, Kankuro clearly had not noticed either.
Gaara turned away from the Daimyo slightly, a hand over the radio so he would not see it.
"Kankuro did you see the doors shut?” Static.
“No.” Gaara tapped Temari on the shoulder. She looked over, the look in his eyes communicated the situation perfectly; ‘fun time is over.’ Gaara spoke into the radio again.
“Check the doors. They are supposed to be open. Check all of them.” Kankuro did not answer, but below stood and paced the wide room, checking all the doors, even slipping down low behind the performers to check the courtyard doors. In less than three minutes the radio crackled to life in Gaara’s ear.
“We have a situation here. All the doors are shut and locked. They’ve been barred... from the outside.” Gaara sighed. This was one particular headache he’d been hoping to avoid.
“Damn.”
“Yeah, who do you think is the focus, you or him?”
“Could be either.” Temari took her cue from her younger brother and stood, loosening the tie on the fan. She strode over to the Daimyo, slightly in front of him. He looked up at her, openly annoyed, but closed his mouth when she shushed him and pointed to her younger brother. At least he gets that much.
“Be ready Kankuro, there won’t be any warning.” Temari snorted.
“They’d be stupid to give us any warning in a room like this.” The lights went out. “These people are very stupid.” Gaara clenched his fists. Not if they mix in with the crowd in the dark.
The floor lights went up.
A dozen ninja stood there amongst the child performers. With some shrieking they scattered towards the audience. With enormous relief, Gaara watched as they let them go. No amount of will power would have saved them if a single child had been harmed. The radio crackled.
“Gaara?”
“Wait. The audience must first be secure, don’t move.” Kankuro obeyed, but loosened the ties on Karasu and Kuraori’s scrolls. The dim light above the Daimyo’s loft flickered to life. It shed very little light, but those on the floor could now see their dim shapes. The audience muttered amongst themselves. If they panicked... this would become far more complicated. A ninja at the head of the group below looked up into the loft with a smirk, one hand on his hip.
“Fubarashi Fudaio, Daimyo of the Wind Country. And Sabaku no Gaara, fifth Kazekage of Sunagakure. Two for the price of one. Well Jinchuuriki of the sand, you may have stopped us once, but you’ll be hard-pressed to stop us again!”
Metal against metal rang as a hidden ninja made an attempt on the Daimyo. Kunai blocked Kunai and the would- be assassin took Temari’s fist to the face, sending him back toward the railing. She swung the closed fan, impacting in the enemy’s abdomen and he was sent back over the railing to the floor below. He landed noiselessly on his feet and backed away into the group, cradling his broken ribs.
The leader’s smirk turned into a frown as his attempt on the feudal lord failed and left him with one less truly useful ninja, but forced the smirk to return a moment later.
“Six years ago my team and I set out on a mission to assassinate Fubarashi, traveling to the Fire Country. Three child ninjas accompanied him. I came in from behind for the assassination, while three of my teammates, including my sister, engaged the younger ninja, and I watched my team crushed to death in a death grip of sand. And now, more than half a decade later, I’ve come to complete my mission. Fubarashi will die tonight and I will have my revenge for my friends and my sister! This can be easy or hard, we get what we want, none of these nice people die. Fubarashi meets his ends, you come with us, no fuss, and the good people here walk out of our barrier.” With a sigh and a slight groan Gaara stood and approached the railing. Great... an avenger with unfinished business. He tapped the radio.
“Kankuro, start securing the crowd as much as possible. Behind the seating rows and the wall under the balcony it should fit everyone. Have Nakamura help you. I’m going down.” Gaara didn’t wait for a response, with only a gesture and a swirl of sand, he disappeared from the loft. The Daimyo squeaked slightly at the sight. More sand and Gaara reappeared on the floor. The people already had begun to slowly trickle to safer places, behind rows of seats, under stairs and behind weight bearing walls. The Kazekage very carefully put himself between the leader and his view of the crowd. The other ninja, watching closely remained still, waiting for orders from their leader before they attacked.
“What do you want?” The cork disappeared from the gourd of sand and the contents very slowly began filtering out into the air.
“Just you. The Daimyo will meet his end soon enough.” The radio in Gaara’s ear spout static for a moment.
“Crowd secure.” A very distinct ‘zipping’ sound followed from the balcony above.
“If you surrender now needless lives need not be wasted, there are only three of you, and twelve of us.” That wasn’t quite right. There had been twelve before, then one more after the Daimyo, now leaning against the back wall attempting to regain his composure. Unless he didn’t count the injured... or just made a sloppy mistake. There had to be at least one other ninja out there, hidden, waiting for leverage. Behind him, he could almost feel Temari and Kankuro, ready to go, just waiting for his order. The enemy ninja looked up at him expectantly, so sure of himself it was sickening.
Narcissus, these ones are the worst of all, I would be satisfied just to watch them burn.
I couldn’t argue with you.
“Temari...” A tornado gust suddenly ripped through the enemy ninja. A few caught in the initial blast were lifted off the floor and sent flying in various directions. Three did not recover their feet when they hit, only one of those three stood again. He didn’t last long, as in a plume of smoke, the puppet Karasu appeared and, in a spray of poisoned needles, put him back down permanently. The leader had only time for a surprised look at the leader of the Sand, before the fray truly began.
“Leave most of them alive.” With a nod from Kankuro and an affirmative grunt from Temari, the Sand descended on the enemy.
The three weapons worked together in step. In perfect synchronization the sand, the fan, and puppetry demolished opposition. Kunai flew in every direction, but the knives stuck harmlessly in the sand or the rows of raised seats. Temari had only a few scratches for her troubles, Kankuro hadn’t even that. The sand tailed several enemy shinobi toward Temari’s fan, two leapt away to watch their teammates taken in a whirlwind, only to disappear inside the puppet Kuraori to their end.
The ninja leader faced the three sand shinobi, suddenly alone; his comrades dead or defeated. A failed attempt at a fire technique later, and the sand had him around the throat, a foot off the ground. Gaara’s face remained perfectly expressionless.
“Search for the ones that survived.” With two nods the older siblings waded in among the shinobi scattered on the floor. “Now, you said something about a barrier...”
“Put him down or he dies...” Gaara paused for a moment, and turned to face the unknown voice. A young ninja, only a year or so older than himself, stood shaking, one arm holding the Daimyo, a kunai poised at his throat.
“Put him down or Fubarashi dies.” His voice cracked and wavered with each word. So this is their last ninja. Gaara stared over at him. The young man was older, taller, considerably larger; blatantly afraid. The Daimyo shook, his hands clawing at the young shinobi’s arm. He was in a bit of a catch. He’d only on bargaining chip. If Gaara refused, and forced him to kill Fubarashi, he’d be killed on the spot and his leader would still die. If he couldn’t kill the Feudal Lord, he’d still be killed. Only if Gaara had any real fear of the Daimyo’s death would it ever work.
Foolish.
“Put him down.”
“No.” The enemy shinobi did a double take.
“What? Put him down or I’ll kill him!” Fubarashi panicked.
“Just let him go!” Gaara frowned.
“No!” The Daimyo shrieked as suddenly his captor’s head came free of the rest of his body. Blood sprayed into the air like a fountain, covering both Fubarashi, and the man who’d rescued him. Akio stood there, still in perfect pose, short sword in hand. Even Gaara had not seen him move. The Daimyo stared seeing his lieutenant for the first time. Akio sheathed the sword and it disappeared in a puff of smoke. Gaara smirked. Nakamura Akio was much more than he led others to believe. The man smiled slightly at Gaara and, surprisingly gently, led Fubarashi away. Nakamura was most definitely not as he initially appeared.
Expressionless once again, the redhead turned back to the man still strangling in the air. Very slowly the sand lowered the man to the floor, and forced him to his knees, then backwards, trapping his feet beneath him as his shoulders touched the floor, restrained as awkwardly as possible. The sand released his throat, and he wheezed and gasped. Kankuro and Temari returned, each with more blood on their clothes than they started out with.
“Out of fourteen, eight are dead.” Kankuro approached behind his sister.
“Two more aren’t going to be around much longer, they’ve about two hours left.” Gaara nodded.
“Open the doors. This one mentioned a barrier, take it down.” The sand nin nodded and headed for the entrance doors. A thin chuckle escaped the restrained man.
“They’ll never take it down. It’s my specialty. Only I can release it. You might as well die in here, if I can’t kill you myself.” The young Kazekage sighed. This one was not going to make things easy. But if he resisted pain anything like he fought, it might not take too long.
The crowd now hiding in the back was another problem. Gaara had some concerns about torturing a grown man in front of small, impressionable children. Well, as long as they stayed back and didn’t see; muffling his cries of pain shouldn’t prove too difficult. Under his direction a small tendril of sand pried up the middle finger of the man’s left hand. Gaara stepped on his hand. The muffle of sand wasn’t quite needed as the finger joint popped and the bones were ground between Gaara’s foot and the floor. Two or three slick pops followed as the joint came free and the tiny tendons broke. When he stepped back, the mangled digit did not spring back, but lay limp flopping from one side to the other.
“That was one. For every unanswered question a new joint is destroyed, and I get to choose which. Every answer I don’t like, I break a bone. These are the rules. You have many bones and I have little patience. You have put up a barrier; tell me how to remove it.”
“You can’t.” Gaara kicked him in the face. Blood spilled over his face as his nose broke. This time he cried out in pain.
“I did not like that answer; tell me how to nullify the barrier.” The man spat blood at him. The sand pulled one foot out from under him, straightening his leg out. With a twitch of Gaara’s hand, the mindless entity of sand took a firm grip on the man’s leg and twisted, very slowly. More sand clamped firmly over his mouth dampening the ninja’s tormented scream. The creaking knee joint broke off the femur with a wet snap. The sand retreated, leaving the shinobi’s lower leg facing the opposite direction. Kankuro and Temari returned while the man screamed. The eldest shook his head.
“The doors are locked up. The whole building is like one giant chakra barrier. Weapons just bounce off; we haven’t been able to make a scratch.” Temari nodded.
“My attacks are nullified. I don’t know what else to do.” The man on the floor gasped for air, smiling madly through the smears of blood on his face.
“You couldn’t do it; maybe a hundred ninja could do it, without the release. Three doesn’t have a chance, and I’ll never let you out, you’ll just have to kill me.” Gaara growled. I’m really growing tired of him. With only a thought the sand surrounded the leader’ upper right arm. Kankuro shuddered and Temari paled as the sand contracted and crushed the bone to dust with a sound like grinding teeth, without even breaking the skin. His cries of pain could hardly be heard through his gag. The puppeteer covered his mouth and turned away, Temari tried not to gag as blood began seeping through the skin of the man’s arm.
Well I’m having fun.
He’s not going to say a word. He came here without much of an escape plan, and only thirteen other ninja against three of the strongest ninja in Suna, and two hundred unknowns. He was going to die either way. There’s no way to force him, it’s just wasted time.
I won’t believe you if you say you’re not having fun.
Shut up. The redhead sighed.
“I’ve not the patience for this.” With a clench of his fist the sand covered the ninja and squeezed ‘till he broke in a fine spray of blood.
"Thought of anything?"
"No."
"Me neither." Gaara lay on the floor, head in his brother's lap, who sat with his back against the wall. The redheaded ninja rubbed his temples, his eyes closed. The older brother had a hand in his hair, running his fingers through it absent-mindedly. Just across the floor the Daimyo sat staring at the brothers, a disapproving frown on his face. He'd attempted some snide and outraged comments earlier, but just one growl from the Kazekage and he shut up rather quickly. Temari finally stopped pacing and flopped down beside her brothers.
“I’m out of ideas.” Kankuro sighed.
“Me too. Even Gaara can’t think of anything to do.”
“We’ve searched the place up and down, and found nothing. No seals, no weak spots, no holes.”
“Nothing. The doors won’t even come off their hinges, the windows don’t break, the basement has no way out.”
“No breaking down the walls, everything bounces off. We can’t even touch the barrier; it’s part of the walls and doors. I have no idea how to get out. The people are getting tired and restless. It’s been hours, and we’re still stuck in here.” Temari sat back with a frustrated sigh. “I’m getting tired of this.” Gaara, in Kankuro’s lap frowned. There was no way to remove the barrier for the inside, no way to contact anyone on the outside. He had a headache and really wanted to forget this whole thing and go home. Temari’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“Hey Gaara, do you even remember what he was talking about?”
“Remember what?”
“The ninja, said he wanted revenge for his sister, do you even remember that mission?” The Kazekage shook his head.
“Vaguely.”
“Oh.” The blonde kunoichi stood with a groan. This was not her idea of a good time.
Kankuro looked up jus in time to see Nakamura Akio stride across the floor.
“Excuse me Kazekage-sama. This is a much less practical solution, but have we tried the skylight?” Gaara opened his eyes and looked up at Kankuro. The puppet master looked down and shrugged.
“I never saw a skylight.” Akio stood and motioned for the two to follow. The brothers got up slowly and followed. There, in the middle of the ceiling a small window let the starlight through. Akio stood directly under it and pointed.
“It’s almost in the direct center. I know the roof has been tried, but this window has almost never been opened, nearly forgotten about really. If they didn’t know about it, maybe it will break, or at least the shield will be thinner there, since it’s almost in the direct center and nearly impossible to reach. Only one person will fit through at a time, but that should do until the barrier is broken from the outside.” Gaara stared up at the glass for a moment. The older ninja was correct; it would do, if it worked at all. He nodded to himself and a platform of sand, like the bottom of a broken eggshell, formed there on the floor. Akio flinched slightly as the sand formed; only Gaara seemed to notice. The redhead made to step onto the platform when Akio held up a hand.
“I’ll go.” Gaara stepped back and Akio got on instead, kneeling on one knee, then nodded. The sand rose high into the air, stopping just under the skylight when Akio held out a hand. The ex-ninja fiddled with the latch, but couldn’t push it open. With a frustrated sigh he attempted to put his elbow through the glass, all to no end but a sore elbow. A quick chakra test told him the window would be just as useless as the rest of the windows. He looked over the edge of the sand and yelled down to the three other shinobi.
“No good.” The sand returned to the ground, then the gourd. Gaara sighed. Damn. I guess there’s nothing left to do. The creature inside chuckled.
What’s more powerful than one hundred shinobi and knows how to break any shield? Give up?
I’m not entrusting this to you. Shut up.
Oh? So then what? Everyone just sits in here until... what? The barrier is pretty well fortified, how do you know you won’t just sit in here until you rot? You’re awfully sure of yourself Narcissus, for knowing next to nothing. I’m your only option left.
I hate you. “Kankuro, Temari, everyone should get into the basement.”
“What?” He put the gourd down on the floor beside him, then sat down in the very center of the floor.
“I know of only one other way to get out. I’m going to do it now, but everyone must be safe in the basement.” The two older siblings paled visibly, Akio took a step back in understanding. Kankuro had hoped it would not come to something like this, under any circumstances. But, even Kankuro had to admit; their options had pretty much run out. With a nod, all three ninja went to work ushering people into the basement. Gaara closed his eyes and reluctantly reached inside to Shukaku.
Finally relenting?
Shut up, we have a problem, and you know how to fix it. We’re trapped inside and you get to break us out. I let you out to break the barrier down, then you go back where you came from. Those are the rules.
What makes you think I’ll have any respect for your rules?
You don’t want to stay in here either, no matter how long it takes, you’ll want out.
You may never regain control again.
I can fight for it, if I have to. I won’t let you do anything more than what I say, I have confidence in that. The creature laughed.
Very well Narcissus, if you’re so sure. Gaara opened his eyes. Shukaku was already pushing to break Gaara’s control. Anything to be contrary. In the back of his mind, Shukaku was laughing at him.
“Alright everyone’s down Gaara.” Temari lay a hand on his shoulder. “You know where we are if you need us.” Not that we could really do anything. Her little brother nodded. Temari disappeared down the stairs.
With a sigh and a fleeting prayer to anyone that still cared enough about him to help, he gave in to the demon.
The crowd lined the walls of the basement, not quite big enough to fit over two hundred people comfortably. Moving down into the dark room initially had an air of panic, but once everyone was down and the doors closed, panic changed to irritation and anger. People huffed around uncomfortable and annoyed. The noises from the floor above soon took care of that. The ceiling creaked and groaned, heavy footsteps thud above, raining dust down from the beams, and shaking the building to the foundations. People shuddered and huddled together. Akio stood in a corner, his face shadowed. Fubarashi seemed to be the only one not understanding the full weight of the situation up the stairs.
“What is he doing up there? He’ll bring the whole place down.” Kankuro and Temari shook their heads and rolled their eyes. The puppeteer leaned in close so that only his sister could hear.
“I’ve had just about enough of him.” Temari nodded.
“If he’s going to complain so much, maybe we should just let him see what he’s dealing with. That will shut him up.
“That’s not funny Temari.”
“I wasn’t making a joke.”
“Gaara would never forgive you.” The building began to shake violently; the beams groaned and shuddered under the demon’s weight.
Shukaku paced through the room. With a long lash of his one tail, the loft disappeared into rubble, the floor crunched under sand claws.
Well I have the time, might as well level it all! The demon laughed out loud. Beneath the people shivered and a child cried.
We’re here just for the shield.
The first time I’m out in over a year. I’m doing you a favor; consider this payment, the walls all fall down. Inwardly Gaara groaned.
Then get on with it. The demon dissolved into shrieking, mirthless laughter.
Enjoy yourself Narcissus. You love it just as much as I do. Gaara gave in to the mindless destruction.
Shukaku was not satisfied with the destruction he wrought on the building. The ceiling had gone, only the back wall remained. The rest were mostly gone and ready to crumble. He’d a mind to do worse, though the chakra barrier had long fallen. Gaara finally brought an end to his insanity.
That’s enough.
No fun Narcissus. The Kazekage pushed, and the demon fought for a moment. But for whatever reason, surely one all his own, he chuckled and retreated, as agreed. Next time Narcissus. The demon influence retreated and Gaara returned to his original form.
With a cautious foot forward, Temari crawled up the stairs and through the wrecked doors.
“Gaara! Are you alright?” For a moment Gaara didn’t move, then sat up with a groan. Temari smiled in relief. She signaled to those below, and an excited rush of people gushed from the stairs. The siblings helped Gaara to his feet. He leaned heavily on his brother as they made their way out of the rubble.
A scream distracted Kankuro from the finer points of Gaara’s body, and all three turned suddenly. The Daimyo stormed out into the demolished remains of the concert house, screaming and red-faced. The three ninja rolled their eyes.
“What! What have you done, you miserable... uncultured... brutish...”
“Fuck you Daimyo.” The man stopped for a moment, then turned to face the voice.
“Akio... what did you say?!”
“I said ‘Fuck you Daimyo’.” The man stood there, completely stunned as Akio walked by, to stand next to the three sand shinobi. “Gaara-sama, I left Suna nearly ten years ago, because things needed to change, and it simply wasn’t happening. When I heard there was a new Kazekage, I never thought it’d be you, and I had the nerve to be concerned about the decision when we met. But I guess I forgot not to get old and soft, and forgot that I left because I was the only one that thought things and people could change. Now I’m glad we met, and glad for Suna for their new leader. With your permission, I’d like to return to the village and see what else has improved since I’ve been away. I’d like to be a ninja again.” Gaara smiled a rare smile.
“We are glad you have returned. Daimyo, our business will have to remain unfinished, I’m going home.” With that all four ninja left Fubarashi Fudaio red-faced and stuttering in the crushed remains of his concert hall. As they left, Temari motioned to Akio.
“Just to let you know, these two have some abnormalities that you should know about.”
“Like what?” Gaara tugged on Kankuro’s shirt.
“The moment we get out of sight your pants had better be gone.”
“Anything you say Gaara.”
“I told you Akio.”
“Oh dear...”
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