A map was spread out before him, he leaned over the table where it rested, passing his eyes over it slowly, already able to place the troops in his minds eye, pieces moving towards their goal in a thousand different ways as he imagined what would oppose him.
The door opened to the study, the sliding door slamming against the wall with a snap that almost seemed to rattle the books resting within their shelves on the wall.
She passed through the threshold and he looked up from the map towards her, meeting her eyes as soon as she entered.
She held a look he couldn't identify. Perhaps because he did not want to, truthfully.
"You've been avoiding me." She said.
He had been. He could admit it.
"And you have been seeking me out" He accuses instead.
She stepped closer, her steps barely making a sound save for the slight wisps of clothing sliding over skin as she walked.
She looked to the map and her face grew somber.
"You're planning to march."
It wasn't a question, so he did not answer.
There was a silence between them, heavy and thick. She opened her mouth, taking a breath to speak before he cut her off.
"No." He said, continuing before she could recover from his abrupt tone. "Because of you, I did not kill your brother that day. It is a decision the cost of which I have yet to fully gather. You will not ask more of me, Sabaku."
He was asking her...begging her not to, she saw. He was asking as only he could, to not force him to choose again, and truly, her heart went out to him, pity, sympathy and gratitude turning her heart to shards of mixed emotions.
She knew what she was doing. That she was committing the crime that he knew she would if it ever came down to this. That he had been accusing her of planning to commit in the past when she'd helped him. She was taking advantage of whatever he may feel for her, and his own confusion, to help her people, her village and Gaara.
And shamelessly she did it...because she could...because it had already worked once.
And though, regret was in her heart, felt more acutely than any of the other things she may feel or not feel for this man right now...
Gaara was her brother.
He'd been avoiding her...and she could not blame him.
"Please-" She began before he cut her off again, standing to his full height as he glared at her with eyes as cold as glaciers at her insistence.
"I have made my decision. As your brother did."
She heard footsteps, and turned her sight to the door where people began to walk in, first two, then three others, two more. She recognized some of them. And when Yoshihiro, along with his nephew Toyohisa marched in, it only confirmed her suspicions. Naruto had called in all of the leaders of the hidden villages he controlled.
"I'll have to ask you to leave now Sabaku."
His voice was colder than it'd been a moment ago. Colder than she could remember hearing in a long time.
She turned and walked away, stepping past the people in the room, and the others still arriving.
Yoshihiro watched the girl leave eyes narrowed in contemplation as he turned his sights from her to Naruto with curiosity.
Kakashi was the last to arrive, behind him, six men followed, one Naruto recognized easily enough as Toushiro, Guan's adopted son, and the man he would most like to see in charge of Kiri. The other two were candidates for consideration. One man stood with two guards, the other only with one.
"I see that Kiri has not yet chosen its new leader." He said, clearly turning his full attention to them.
The one with two guards took a step forward, a slim man, with a full head of black hair and a thin, boyish face. From the reports, Naruto knew that both candidates were men in their middle ages but unlike the other standing beside him, this one looked so young he could have been Toushiro's sibling.
"We have not Hokage-sama." He said, a ready smile of appeasement on his lips. He appeared to play the part of a boot-licker well. "However all members of Kiri's council did agree that we, as candidates should be present to represent our village in this time.
Naruto glared, and whatever aggression that had built up within him over the encounter with Temari not a few moments ago seemed to be directed solely at him. "No."
The boyish man started. "Excuse me Hokage-sama?"
"No." Naruto repeated in that same low voice that seemed to carry through the whole room. "When your councilors have the competence to decide on their own leader then that man will come before me."
"Bu-but Hokage-sama-"
"None of you have the authority to represent your village to me. And so none of you shall. Leave." He said simply. "Overseer Hatake shall remain and he shall divulge what he wishes to whomever your village chooses. If they have the mind to choose before time has us wizened old men and the war long done with."
The three candidates eyed one another, and from the two men he could see their distaste and their resentment of this. From Toushiro he could sense such as well but tempered by mild understanding. None of the three had moved from their place however.
"It was not a request. Get out." Naruto repeated almost growling out the words. "Or you shall be thrown out."
As quickly and as quietly as they came. They were gone.
Naruto then turned his sights onto the remaining people in the room. Five overseers, and the village leaders of Kusa, Ame, Taki along with Toyohisa and Yoshihiro for Iwa. As they looked to him, he stood with his back to an open window, the villages most recent, glaring scar hanging behind him. A reminder.
And a test.
He would see these men for who they truly were. Cowed leaders, too cowardly to make a move, or hidden snakes in the underbrush, waiting for an opportune moment to strike back at the man who would demand their bent knee.
If any subtleties were to show themselves it would be here. With the symbol of his 'weakness' present and plain for any with eyes to see. And any with enough stupidity to be encouraged. They would not enjoy the same privilege the Kazekage had however.
The Overseers, Mitarishi Anko of Kusa, Shino Aburame of Iwa, Hatake Kakashi of Kiri, Doromichi Sengo of Ame and Matsudaira Kichio of Taki. The five overseers had all delivered their preliminary reports ahead of their arrival. The news of the attack had certainly taken each of the leaders of their assigned villages by surprise, but none other than Kusa's had thus far shown any liken towards it.
He would simply have to trust in his ability to keep eyes on four of these people at once. Though he was fairly certain Yoshihiro would not rebel given the seal he'd placed on his nephew; it would not be the first time a village leader had advanced his own ends by indulging in the murder of a family member however.
He pulled himself away from his desk, standing to his full height, the white robes of his office a mirror opposite to the black of the Overseers.
"Your orders are simple." He said. "I want every available ninja within each of your respective villages assembled and ready to march on Suna within one months time."
Each leader looked to others in the room, and even the Overseers darted their eyes this way and that way before regaining their former discipline and keeping their gaze on him.
The leader of Taki, a woman older than he by a decade or so, spoke. "Hokage-sama, it is late November." Light brown hair, narrow eyes. She was known as Shinko Naomi. She'd become the leader of Taki after Kenpachi's death and had served there since. Though they'd rarely spoken directly; from the beginning she had been one of the biggest advocates for peace between her village and Konoha. Something in itself that was more than a little suspicious.
From the reports of the twenty odd overseers that had been assigned to the village in the last decade, she was a brilliant administrator but did not hold the full loyalty within her own lands. It was many an uprising that had come forward backed by rogue elements within Taki's ninja force. All had been put down until they'd been rooted out. Nothing had been traced back to her but more than one of the overseers had commented on the suspicious nature of the fact that a leader could rise to power and yet be so blind to what elements within its own village could be up to.
Naruto raised a single eyebrow at her question, deciding to provoke her, if only slightly. "Yes. Thank you for the update on the month. I required such."
The woman bowed her head, almost meekly, and not for the first time Naruto wondered just how she was a village leader at all. Or if that meek exterior hid designs of dissent beneath it.
Yoshihiro took it upon himself to clarify.
"She means that Winter is practically here. By the time we've mobilized the march it will be here. Gods above know that you don't fight in Suna during winter. Temperatures drop well below zero in nightfall. Whatever parts of your army don't get heat stroke during the day will be fighting off frostbite at night. You'd have to be carrying equipment to deal with both ridiculous extremes. Not to mention that you're fighting a well prepared enemy, in his home turf who knows you're coming and will be more than ready to fight you every step of the way."
For a moment Naruto said nothing, keeping his eyes ahead of him before he finally addressed the statement.
"I am more than aware of what will await us in Suna, Shimazu. My orders stand."
Yoshihiro eyed him for a moment before he spoke up again. The other leaders allowing him to be the advocate against this. He was the eldest of all and the only one who's words may really hold weight. If he and Iwa rebelled...it may very well mean the end of Konoha's conquests. It'd be a struggle to hold onto a fraction of their current territory.
"You sure about this boy?" He asked. "If this goes wrong, you may not have an army or an empire to speak of by the end of it."
For a moment, only a second, Yoshihiro could have sworn he caught a flash of something in the blond's eyes. Was it hesitation? Contemplation? Consideration? He could not tell but it sent worry snaking through his mind, warnings flaring bright red in his inner sights.
"You have your commands." He said simply. "Carry them out. All forces shall be marshaled, and are set to march onto Suna within one month's time. And to those of you whom would fail to meet these orders-" He warned, glaring at each one of the village leaders in turn. "Your deaths shall not come swiftly."
A spike of killing intent, so sudden and so overpowering it nearly made the various village leaders fold in on themselves. The full weight of his power descending on each of them for a mere instant.
A reminder to each of them.
Cold sweat broke out on their foreheads, and Yoshihiro's features grew severe and grave after it was done.
Naruto gestured for the doorway. Hoping his promise of retribution and the display would be enough to ensure them cowed into obedience. "Leave"
Soon it would all be over. Soon. But until then, for just a little while longer he needed their cooperation. He needed them to obey for just a little while longer.
Just a little while longer.
After that, they would not matter, neither would Suna. None of it would matter.
The leaders filed out, and Naruto was left with the five others. Robed in black in mirror reflections to his white.
The Black Hand.
It was not a name he'd given to them of course; no more than he'd taken on the name of "The Devil King." It was one given to them by the commoners as they are wont to do.
And in a sense it was true.
These five people, cycled through in a period of six months were his hands within each village. His hands, ears, eyes and nose. His senses. Even his voice if need be.
He looked to them just as he had the village leaders before them. "Make certain they do as they are told."
They bowed their heads in reply and Naruto leaned onto the table again.
"Do any of you wish to report anything?"
Anko was the one to step forward first. "Kusa's leader, Tatsuoki." She said, distaste clearly visible for the man. "He may prove troublesome."
"Avoid his elimination if possible." The Jinchuriki commanded. "But should you deem it necessary, see him dead. Pin it on one of his own if you can. So long as those soldiers are marched down to fight in the south, I do not care."
Anko nodded. "Got it."
Shino stepped forward next. "Naruto-sama." He said with a respectful bow. "After word arrived in Iwa of what happened here there have been many desertions. Several dozen ninja ranks ranging from chuunin to jounin have fled. The estimated civilian numbers along the outlying villages of Tsuchigakure's territory is triple that number.
Naruto did not even bat an eyelash.
"It does not matter."
Shino paused. "Hokage-sama, we are fairly certain these deserters will be heading towards Suna."
"They most likely will." He answered with a faint movement that could barely be called a shrug. "But it does not matter." He repeated.
Shino, hidden behind his glasses, stared for a moment before offering a nod and stepping back into line.
"Permission to speak freely?" Kakashi asked, catching everyone's attention.
"Speak, then."
"Yoshihiro is right Naruto." the copy cat said. "If you attack Suna during winter, most of your army will be coming back as corpses. Win or loose.
"If the thought of bringing back dead disturbs you Hatake." Naruto drawled in his slow monotone, finding his seat and taking it behind his desk. He laced his fingers in front of his mouth, staring the white haired ninja down before he finished.
"Then leave them where they fall."
The door creaked on rusty hinges, squeaking horribly as it was pushed wide open. Kiba raised his remaining arm, blocking the glare of the light that stung his eyes.
"You stupid piece of shit." An all too familiar voice hissed from the doorway.
Kiba squinted through the light, glaring halfheartedly at the intruder.
The person descended, footsteps echoing through the darkened cells as he stepped up to the bars. With his face, no longer veiled by the shadows cast by the light at his back, the Inuzuka could see the ire painted on his features. Ire, disgust...and pity.
The last one made him growl somewhere in his throat.
The shadow wielder glanced towards the door and with another squeaky groan it shut, bathing them in blackness for a moment before Shikamaru lit a small flame over his index and middle fingers. The most basic of fire techniques. Barely fit to start a campfire.
Standing there, with nothing but a proverbial candle between them, the two friends did not break eye-contact.
Friends...
Such a strange word. It made Shikamaru wonder.
Were they still really friends? No one could reach Kiba since Hana's death. He is, or was, inconsolable, going from bar to bar drinking his liver into the ground. Every other day it seemed as if one of them had to go out and make sure the guy even got home, or didn't die from alcohol poisoning.
They'd tried to help him, all of them did in their own way. But what could they do for a man whom had lost his whole immediate family to this. To the war.
To the demon king?
It made him wonder if they were ever really friends, or just two rats caught in the same sinking ship.
They'd come so far...so far and yet...they hadn't really moved at all had they?
He ran a hand through his hair, sighing through his nostrils.
Here they stand, a beaten broken shell of a man and another one that may very well join him soon enough.
"Mind telling me why you've become such a goddamn moron?"
The Inuzuka looked down, shame in his posture. "I'm sorry?"
"Sorry?" Shikamaru spat. "You attacked a woman. A civilian no less!"
"I'm sorry alright!" Kiba shouted, getting defensive. "She looked like that Hyuuga bitch!"
"Pale skin and dark hair? You gonna swing that fake claw arm of yours to half the women of the village? No? Then shut the fuck up! Don't you dare try to justify yourself to me!" The Nara spat. He was positively seething.
In truth, only a part of it, a large part mind you, but a part nevertheless, was because of Kiba. Most of it was frustration at...everything else.
There was silence now between them as Kiba sat there, cowed and shamed, while Shikamaru tried to reign in his sudden anger as best he could.
"Is...is she alright?" The cell's occupant finally ventured. "I didn't hurt her did I?"
"What? Not drunk enough to miss the black hair, but drunk enough to not notice you gave her a brand new set of scars along her arms?"
Shikamaru watched as he grew pale.
His own features remained neutral, even as he knew the woman had only suffered a scuffed elbow and a bleeding lip. The Anbu had interfered very swiftly. They were on edge enough to react to even the slightest hint of disruption within the village walls.
And Kiba even when sober could hardly be called a slight disruption.
"I'm-"
"Sorry?" He interrupted scathingly. "Yea. You mentioned that."
Kiba looked down. A broken man and he was driving the heel of his boots into the shards.
The silence between them was longer now. Heavier with unsaid words. But Kiba was nothing if not predictable. It would only be a matter of time.
"What happens to me now?" He finally asked, after an eternity spent in the flickering twilight of the flame.
Much as expected.
"Nothing." The Nara drawled.
He looks up staring through the bars at the shadow caster's stern face. "Nothing?"
Shikamaru reaches into his jacket, pulling out a small, rolled up file and tossing it into the cell.
"Meet your new team." He growled. "Eleven of the most cut throat, ruthless criminals this village has. You'll be leading them. Each are high chuunin and up, you'll be conducting raiding missions and harassing supply lines behind the advancing Konoha army. If you people want to throw yourselves and your lives to hell you can do it in service to your village."
Kiba looked like he was going to ask something else but Shikamaru continued, stopping him.
"Tonight, a man is going to come into this room. He's going to put a seal on you. You're going to let him. Tomorrow night, three Anbu will come here and open your cell. You will follow them, are we clear?"
"What's the seal do?"
"Caged birds often want freedom."
It was all he said, but the clue was brighter than the midday sun.
"Does Gaara approve of this?"
For the first time, a note of skepticism crept into his tone, and Shikamaru didn't blame him. Gaara's honor would see him cutting out his own stomach before condoning something like this.
He answered with truth.
"No. He doesn't know, and I'd like to keep it as such for as long as possible. It helps that he's currently unconscious at the moment."
Kiba looked down at the file, opening it, and finding only pictures.
"Those three Anbu I mentioned." Shikamaru said, beginning to march away. "Before they let you go. They're going to give you a sequence of seals. Memorize them and I trust you to know when the situation is...adequate to use them."
"You're trusting me with that?" The prisoner asked as Shikamaru ascended the stairs and banged on the iron door.
It opened, and Kiba squinted at the bright light.
"I never said it was a lot of trust." The Nara said before the door closed shut behind him.
The vanilla sang in Chouji's mouth, taste-buds exploding under his puffy cheeks. The large man felt as though he would cry tears of elation.
"Where have you been all my life?" He cried dramatically. Damn near cradling the extra large cone against his cheek.
Sakura didn't stop the giggle that emerged from her as she was licking off a bit of her own cone. "I swear, you're gonna marry a chef. Or your refrigerator."
Chouji smiled back and watching him take another bite, she found that she couldn't fault him really. Ice cream was a rare treat in Suna, even rarer now with half of the flavors cut off due to their sources being in Konoha controlled territory.
But winter was on the horizon now so maybe they'd get to have a little more.
Before things...got bad.
She followed Chouji's example, she however choose to take smaller licks and actually savor her cone rather than just swallow it. The treat had been expensive enough. She could have bought a small Bento box for what it was worth.
The Akimichi scion sat himself down on a bench and she settled herself beside him. They were in the main square, a bazaar with a hundred people coming and going around them. Buying goods and selling them, carrying items and bags or just walking somewhere else. Near the center of the village, the square was linked to almost every major road and byway that would lead to every corner of the village. The tower of the Kazekage was at the very end of it for crying out loud, the keystone for the entire west side of the village with the walls circling around to meet up at the far west side of the tower.
In fact, now that she thought about it, whomever controlled this square basically controlled the village. They would be able to spill their troops anywhere, and attack at other forces and people that would, most likely, be cut off from each other.
Organized fighting would descend to brawling in the middle of the streets, everything would be decided on man to man struggles, no effective counter attack could be lead. It would be-
Chouji's fingers snapped in front of her face and she jerked back, blinking before looking up at him. "What?"
"You're getting that look again." He replied scrunching up his face like a pouting child. "That 'Thinking of different things that are about the upcoming fights' look. He poked her, his thick, fat finger prodding at her shoulder. "Today's for relaxing remember. Ino and Shika were busy today but I was gonna take at least one of you out to get your mind off of some of these things."
He didn't mention Kiba. She tried not to notice too much. Smiling her, green eyes went a little soft. "Sorry. I'll try to keep my mind to happier thoughts 'kay?"
"You need to be smiling."
She pulled back her lips, showing off those pearly whites. "If I promise to keep this face all day will you be happy then?" She asked, keeping the smile.
"Don't do it for me." He said. "Do it for you. You three will be the ones with grey in your hair soon and worry lines criss crossing all over those faces of yours."
This time, she hit him in the shoulder. "You take that back."
The big man grinned. "Truth hurts?"
"I think I might cry myself to sleep." She said, then, after a moment, added another punch for good measure.
Chouji laughed.
The two sat, smiling together as they ate their respective deserts when suddenly, not four feet in front of them, children rushed past in a hurdle of screams and small little feet.
One tripped, and with a fall that sounded almost as sickening as it looked, the boy's face struck the stone floor of the bazaar walkway.
"Oh sh-" Sakura heard Chouji hiss as he rushed forward while other onlookers gasped.
She followed a moment later, reacting after the shock as Chouji turned the boy over, who was now crying, to assess the damage.
It was a bad scrape, and it looked very painful for a child, going from his chin then leaving unblemished skin along the cleft of his jaw and lower cheek, to a rough, scratching tear along his left cheekbone and another scratched patch of skin along the left side of his hairline, near his temple.
Warm, fat tears were trailing down the boys cheeks and he flinched away from Chouji as the large man tried his best to take a look, fearing the touch of another person where it hurt, as all children fear.
"Here let me." She said pushing Chouji's bulk gently aside before cupping the boys uninjured cheek with one hand and holding him firmly in place as her other pressed her healer's touch to the torn skin.
The boy struggled for a moment but stopped quickly enough when her touched soothed the stinging and burning he felt across his face.
The other children he'd been running with gathered around them now as some of the other adults moved on.
"Why were you all running?" She asked the general group, not taking her eyes off her work, watching the skin mend and knit over the scrape. "Don't you know you could get hurt?"
"We were just playing." One boy said, his tone defensive as another little girl piped up. "Playing Sand and Leafs!"
Sakura felt herself tense, her concentration slipping for a fraction of a second as she heard it. "Sand and Leafs?" She asked.
"Yea, Sand ninja and Leaf ninja." The boy that spoke the first time said with a smile. "One group plays as sand ninja and the other group play as leaf ninja."
Sakura felt her lips tighten, her fingers pulling away from the injured boy's now healed cheek as she turned her eyes to the stone floor to avoid looking at them. At...these children wanting to play at war.
As though war was some kind of game.
She was angry with them for a moment, angry that they thought it was a game. It was irrational she knew. They were children, no more than seven or eight, maybe even younger. She'd been like them once upon a time. They just didn't know...
But war was no game real people were dying out there. Real friends she would never see again.
It was Chouji's voice that broke her from her dark thoughts, his voice carrying all the easy nature she knew him for.
"Why don't you guys play something else?" He asked.
"What else would we play?" One of the kids asked as their friend stood up rubbing his still tender cheek.
"Not anything with leaf ninja." The Akamichi said with a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't you all know that they're just pig headed idiots?"
"What about the Devil King?" One little girl asked. "Momma says that he's unbeatable, that he cant die!"
She could just imagine Chouji's affronted face with the tone of voice he put on for them. "Well, tell your momma that she's wrong. Kazekage Gaara beat him just the other day!"
"Told ya!" Another child piped up. "My dad said Kazekage-sama smashed a whole mountain ontop of him."
"No he didn't!" Another kid said. "Everyone knows the Kazekage controls sand idiot there aren't any mountains made of sand!"
"Well Kazekage-sama beat him." Chouji interrupted loudly and Sakura looked to him, his eyes were wide, and his jaw set in what she could see was mock seriousness, but could be mildly convincing to an eight year old. Maybe. "So there ain't no reason to be playing as no leaf ninja when sand ninja are that much better right? How bout you think of a different game to play?"
The children looked at one another before the first kid spoke up again. "Nah, Sands and Leafs is fun, come on guys lets get to the park." Then, following his lead the group rushed to their designated location, with only the boy Sakura had healed stopping to offer a quick bow and a thanks before he ran right after them.
Chouji sighed, theatrically. "Kids huh."
When he stood he offered her a hand to do the same which she accepted.
"Maybe you should have scared them a little." She found herself commenting, as she stared after them.
"Let them have their fun." The Akimichi said solemnly "Too soon...they may just get their wish. And they'll be playing sand and leafs for real. Children shouldn't be afraid of the dark things in their own village."
"Yes they should!" She exclaimed without thought. Her mind traveled back, back to that place where she'd first seen him. Sakai.
He'd marched out of that blazing inferno as though hell itself had spawned him in fire. Kiba's blood had been warm against her flesh, sticky and growing colder against her skin as his serpents emerged like wyrms from the old stories, hissing and snarling.
So many dead. He'd killed them all. The Tsuchikage and all of her friends had been nothing more than dust-motes struggling against a storm.
It scared her then. It scares her now.
They'd thrown everything they had at him, all of their strength all of their power. It was for nothing.
She'd scoffed at all the claims of his invincibility. Of every pub drunk and story spinner and mother telling a cautionary tale to her children about him.
At least...she had until that day.
So many myths.
Don't speak of him for even stray thoughts will draw him close
A demon who's taken the skin of a man
He drain's the life of those who battle him
A creature neither living nor dead
Even Chiyo-sama had spun poetic once to her about him.
"The creature, that boy has become is nothing more than a husk. Do not call it a 'he' call it an 'it'. For all it is, is a tool of killing. It is already dead, you see? It is only a question of how many more it will slay before it falls."
And they went on and on and on and on.
Despair when he comes, for he brings the end of your life.
He fears nothing, for he is fear made flesh.
One worth a thousand.
Thousands of myths, thousands of legends that just heaped onto each other until the truth was so buried none could find it.
Hell, fucking Shikamaru! Thrice damned Shikamaru who barely believed in freakin' gravity she'd overheard speaking to someone once before.
"He cares nothing for his people. Or the ones he's conquered. Or the ones he means to conquer. He will fight Iwa, and Kumo, and once he is done with them he will fight us, and when we're gone, he will just keep fighting until there's nothing left.'
So many different fears they put over him and the mantle of "Devil King" that even she herself forgot.
Even she...no...all of them. All the ones that come from Konoha; most had known his name but no one ever dared to even speak it. As though the very whisper of their breath, carrying his name would bring poison into them.
Uzumaki Naruto.
A man, who cannot be killed.
She felt hands on her shoulders and she looked up, finding Chouji standing in front of her, all soft smiles and sad eyes. He knew where her thoughts had taken her again."Hey." He said, squeezing a bit with chubby fingers that made her feel small. "Don't worry. We're going to get through this. We are going to find a way."
He reassured her. Just as many had done before and probably more would try in the future. But he...He was so sure...So convinced that she couldn't help but smile.
Her feet carried her forward, and she soon enough found herself hugging her big friend like the fuzzy teddy he self proclaimed to be. "Promise me you wont ever change Chouji."
"I promise." And she found herself smiling again like she promised she would.
When the Kazekage woke, it was to warm blankets and sunlight streaming through his window, blisteringly hot as it was custom to do here in the desert.
He sat up on his bed, dizzy and groggy from exhaustion induced sleep. He groaned, one hand cradling his face as he swiveled his legs over the edge, noting that he'd been changed into sleep clothes as well.
He sat, staring at the floorboards of his room for almost a full two minutes before he gathered the strength to pull himself to his feet and march out the door.
He had to grip the railing as he walked down the stairs, and he felt so exhausted, he imagined that the bags under his eyes were as black as they'd been in his youth. When he reached the second to last step, Kankuro wheeled into view, pushing on his chair as he approached with a smirk.
"You look like hell." He said.
With his brother there, in front of him, Gaara belatedly realized that there was no need to walk any further and so, without ceremony, sat his ass down on the third step.
Kankuro shifted his position, wheeling himself so that his head was on the other side of the stair railings looking to Gaara through the shafts of wood. "long distance reverse summoning seals take a lot more out of you than I'd thought."
"They're forbidden for a reason." The redhead muttered.
"Any less chakra and you would have been dead before we'd found you."
"And my body hasn't recovered either it seems." He self diagnosed, raising a hand that was visibly shaking. "How long have I been out."
"A week." Kankuro answered flatly. "On the plus side, that lunatic plan of yours was a roaring success."
Gaara opened his eyes, looking to his brother a bit more attentively now, trying to force his mind to keep focus at least for a bit longer.
"As you know we went in there with a hundred and thirty-eight men, a hundred and seven made it back out, forty four of which weren't injured at all. Only three were critically wounded and are being tended to at the hospital. Everything else was minor. We hand like, ten casualties, maybe less.
Gaara nodded, his eyelids again growing heavy. He was too tired. He couldn't even muster up the presence of mind to feel little more than a pang of sympathy for those that had died. "And...what's the state of the village?"
Kankuro smiled. "They're practically ecstatic. You should just hear all the stories circling round about you brother. Haven't seen the men this hopeful since Aki-" The puppeteer paused, scowling as he remembered just who she turned out to be. "You're a hero now!"
Gaara nodded looking at his brother's confident smile. One he hadn't really seen in a long time. He didn't have the heart to tell him that it was not a performance that may very well repeat itself if Naruto fought him here. For some reason, the Devil king had never called upon the power of his bijuu. Not at least, until the very end, in a moment of desperation. He'd been holding back during that fight for some reason.
But next time, the gloves he'd put on would come off. Gaara was stronger here in Suna but would he be strong enough to fight the Devil King's full power? He doubted it.
Still, looking at his brother, he did not have either the will or desire to tell him this. He'd burdened Kankuro enough recently, this one burden of doubt he would try...no...he must, carry on his own.
The Kazekage smiled. "Next time I'll make sure to leave you some of the glory."
He didn't hear his brother's response, merely saw his lips move before falling back asleep, his head thudding against the railings of the steps.
Akina had felt her stomach roll and twist itself into knots when she'd heard the news.
Dark clouds rolled over her head, shielding the world from the light of the sun as its dark stone gray surface shifted overhead, rumbling with thunder and the promise of coming rain.
It matched her mood well enough.
There was no love lost between her brother and herself, and much left unsaid and undone between herself and Gaara, but to hear it said that the two had fought in some great battle without her there sent splinters of a thousand emotions skewering through her chest.
Anger was there, anger at them, at her absence.
Yearning as well. She wished she could have been there, seen for her own eyes rather than hear it with ears that listened to half mad tales that had no doubt grown more exaggerated and inaccurate by the telling.
Most agreed on one thing however. Gaara had attacked Konoha and fought Naruto. Whether he was beaten back by the Devil King or Naruto himself was the one that was defeated was wholly unclear. But they had fought for certain.
Hurt was felt as well, a pang straight through her heart as it was made now, more clearly than ever before that she was now more an outsider in this than she'd ever been.
But it was worry that coiled through her heart more. Worry and fear that snaked its way round and round and squeezed. She worried for someone she knew to be a good man. And another she knew to be her blood.
She stood on neither side now, and in some ways it was equal parts easier as it was harder.
She walked through the village alone today. Kisame had gone off for some errand or other, allowing her the time to wander listlessly; lost in her own thoughts.
As though a celestial bucket had just been flipped end over end the clouds released a massive whitewash. Rain struck the village and slick sluice was washed down the tiles and dripping down to the dirt road, quickly turning the ground at her feet into too much pulpy wet sand that clung to her shoes.
She cursed pulling up her hood and running over to a nearby food stand, its angled roof providing her with shelter.
She stood at the edge of the small building, content to wait out the storm quietly at the corner of this stall.
"Miss?" She heard behind her- Moments? Minutes? -later finding an older man leaning over the counter. "You wanna order something while you wait? Storm's not going anywhere."
She shook her head, pulling the cloak tighter around herself as a gust of wind speckled rain onto her feet and into the shop. A ramen shop she noted watching as a girl in the back threw some noodles into a pot. "No money right now." She answered sullenly.
It was true, Kisame had taken all their cash, saying he needed it for today. It was only the second time he'd done it in the three months she'd been traveling with him and the first time he'd bought supplies and equipment he knew they'd need.
She hadn't refused him today when he asked.
The older man eyed her for a second. "Tell you what. One on the house huh?"
"You give random people bowls of ramen on the house?" She asked with no small amount of suspicion.
"Only those that look like they're having a bad day." He answered. "No offense, but you look like you've got problems." He said somewhat carefully with a small smile. "A bowl of Ramen would do you some good. Take it from me."
She thought for a moment considering then, slowly inclined her head. "Thank you."
The man smiled before looking to the girl in the kitchen. "One special."
The girl nodded and, minutes later, a steaming bowl was placed infront of her, along with her chopsticks and napkins.
She took the chopsticks rubbing them between her hands for a second before she began to eat.
She slurped up the first bite, chewing once or twice before swallowing. "Its good." She complemented.
"Best in the business." The man said, smiling before returning back to whatever he was doing, concentration creasing his brow.
She ate in silence, with only the man, and her food as company. The minutes passing in rare, peaceful quiet for her until she was almost done.
Then a familiar blue tank on legs marched in through the flaps of the store.
"Here you are." the former Akatsuki said, smiling in that 'I know something interesting' way of his and Akina saw the stand owner gape for a good second or two before he shut his mouth, shrugged, and went right back to what he'd been doing.
She had to wonder just where the owner had lived or what he'd seen to just give Kisame a momentary stunned look, shrug and go on as if he'd seen stranger things.
Kisame eyed the bowl, frowning, though there was no real displeasure there. "Holding out on me? I thought you said you gave me all your cash."
"I did." She answered and the fish man grumbled.
He must have figured she was waiting for him to comeback with whatever money they would have left because he reached into his cloak pulling out some money. "How much old man?" He asked.
"I said it was on the house." The owner waved them off. "Next bowl you can pay for."
Kisame shrugged and then motioned for her to follow. Akina stood from her stool, bowing to the stall owner. "Thank you." She said.
The older man smiled and nodded. "No problem miss."
She looked to the bowl, and the small bit of broth still gathered at the bottom, realizing that, while she'd been eating she really had been at peace. The problems hadn't left her, but they had been driven away at least for a few moments. And she did feel better.
Sometimes it was the simplest things really.
She turned and walked out of the stand into the pouring rain, joining Kisame as he handed her a wide wicker hat. She put it on, tying the strings under her chin before looking up to him. "So where'd our money go?"
"Information." He said. "The rumors were right. Your Kazekage's balls dropped and he took the fight right to Konoha."
"And what were the results?" She asked, heart thumping once painfully beneath her breast.
Kisame waved her off, reading her concern easily. "Neither of them are dead girl. The Kazekage attacked to make a statement, it was a theatrics show, nothing more. I doubt the two even managed to fight before he turned tail and got the hell out of doge. Both of them are alive. Kaze is back in Suna, and "The Demon King" has called in all of his subjects."
"The leaders of the conquered villages?" She asked, knowing exactly what that meant.
Kisame's smile was so wide it threatened to split his face in two. "Yup!" He cried. Elation pitching his voice to that of a child with a new toy. "Demon boy's pissed, and this fight just got thrown from a walk to a sprint. They'll most likely be marching south in a month."
"A month? But-"
"Winter!" Kisame's smile was almost shining with feral glee. "He's throwing his army to the meat grinder, and Suna and the whole world with it. Banking everything on one last huge battle."
He sounded happy but...
"You don't sound surprised."
He barked out a laugh.
"Because I'm not! He's doing exactly as he should!"
She felt dread, cold fear crawling up her spine as Kisame's beady eyes bore into her own and she knew that with her next words she was doing exactly as he knew she would.
"What do you mean?"
Kisame's laughter chilled her more than the winds and the biting rain ever could hope to.
She lay on her bed, still dressed in the clothes she'd worn during the day, as she rested on her side, eyes fixated on some spot along the wall.
The sun dipped down the horizon, as one more day began to fade into the black of night. Her mind wandered and her thoughts drifted, going everywhere and nowhere all at once.
The door opened, and when she looked she found him walking through the threshold, blue eyes finding her dusk grey one's easily.
She leaned up, upper body resting on her left arm as she returned his look
A thousand things hung in the air between them now. A thousand things unsaid, and a million more who's words could not even be thought.
"I..." She began, breaking the silence first as she swallowed. "I...wasn't sure if you'd come."
"I am not sure why I chose to do so." He admitted.
She looked to him, searching vainly for something that she could say, some subject she could bring up that did not revolve around the war, on the plans he'd made. But her mind emerged with nothing.
It was the biggest thing between them right now. Almost the only thing from a certain point of view.
She shifted her position, her weight going from her side to her rear as she placed her arms loosely around her knees, bare feet on the bed.
"You're going to march aren't you?" She asked, voice all a rush.
And the gauntlet between them was dropped again.
"Yes." He answered. It was one thing no one could ever claim otherwise. He was honest. She had not yet decided if his truthfulness was a blessing or a fault.
"When?" She prodded.
"I cannot tell you."
"Why not!" She almost shouted now, voice easily carrying a few feet outside her door.. "I stayed didn't I? I stayed when every goddamned opportunity was available to me to run while you were buried under that mountain!"
He met her indignant sight, as she demanded her answer and after a moment spoke back. "He is your brother." The Demon king answered, and Temari felt her heart lurch at the truth behind those words and all they implied. She looked away.
"Look at me."
It was a request, not a demand. Most people couldn't tell the difference with him but she could. She was not sure when that happened.
Maybe that's why she obeyed.
When she met his eyes again this time, she found something different in them...softer and his voice carried that odd tone of his. All too rare and far between.
"Tell me. Look at me and tell me that you would not try to spirit the information to him in some way and I will answer your questions, whatever they may be."
She felt her eyes go wide, and for a heart-stopping moment, she feared this was some kind of trick. Some test of some sort.
But she shook herself. No...he wouldn't do that, he was nothing if not straight forward with her.
He would tell her.
All she had to do was lie to him.
Maybe not even convincingly.
The words died on her tongue and tasted like ash in her mouth. She choked on them.
She looked down, clenching her eyes tightly shut as tears burned wetly down her cheeks. Tears of sorrow, regret, pain...and rage.
"Damn you." She cursed. So softly, the words were almost lost in the space between them. Damn him for doing this to her. Damn him for placing this crushing burden of guilt on her shoulders
"Damn you!" She yelled it this time, a wild scream as she brought her eyes back up, glaring at him through her tears.
He stood there, nothing but a grim face to speak back at her, and she launched herself from the bed, hands and nails more liken to claws it seemed for a moment before he caught her, grabbing onto her upper arms and turning them both, slamming her back against the wall as she clawed at anything she could reach.
She kicked, thrashed, struggling, and for the briefest instant it seemed as though she would break free from his grip in her fury when his strength, finally, won over her effort.
She nearly sobbed, panting like a winded dog as her chest heaved, cheeks flushed, and she found him staring down at her, his face inches from her own.
"Why did you stay?" She heard him ask.
She tried one more time a burst of strength allowing her to push herself almost a foot off the wall before he pushed her back, knocking the wind out of her.
"Why did you stay?" He repeated, demanding the answer from her.
"I don't know!" She yelled right back. "I don't know why I stayed! I should have run, gone with my brother to Suna and left you and this goddamned place behind me."
He looked at her, and she could almost swear he leaned in a little closer "You do know." He said simply.
She grit her teeth.
And surprised herself today just as she had that night as she leaned forward, slanting her mouth over his. The kiss was angry and harsh, almost as though she were arguing in an entirely different way.
In a moment he pressed closer, his body against hers as he lifted her those precious few inches to have her at eye level.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him to her. The heat of his hand is at her back, holding her flush against him and her spine shivers as she feels his other hand at the back of her neck so she does not pull away.
Their tongues meet, fighting against one another as her wet muscle invades his mouth exploring feeling.
Her lungs begin to burn, but her hands fist at the back of his head, holding handfuls of his hair so she could hold him close. So that neither of them can pull away.
But all too soon for an instant that lasts forever, her chest shudders and spasms with the lack of air and she has to pull back. Biting his lower lip as she does and feels the flesh beneath her teeth, she scarcely allows either of them a breath before she kisses him again. Her lungs are still aflame within her chest, burning her insides as she holds him tight. Its not anger this time that drives her, rather a strange sort of desperation.
Its his tongue she feels in her mouth. It meets her own, pushes against the back of her teeth at the roof of her mouth. She shudders at the sensation, at the lack of air, at the heat of his hands, at the cold hardness of the wall at her back.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she is dimly aware that the Anbu may very well be watching, spying as they always did.
'Let them look' The other part of her thinks.
For this moment they are the only two people in this house, in the whole world as it crumbles around them, as her hands trail down his neck, over his shoulders to the planes of his chest.
She pulls back, panting and in that second her back arches sharply, one razor edged claw trailing up her spine in an all too light, barely there touch that she feels like a branding iron. His hardness presses against her. She can feel the warmth of his length against her thigh through the clothes.
So he did have more blood than ice-water in his veins after-all.
She pulls away, still gasping struggling to get a proper breath with gulps of air before their lips meet again, latter than she would have liked, sooner than she needed. Her fingers are twisted so tight around his robes the cloth is beginning to give with sounds that don't seem to reach either of them.
He pulls away from her suddenly and she looks into his eyes, they are rimmed with red, his fangs longer than they should be. One hand is still around her waist, the other now pressed against the wall beside her head.
His own head dips now, his head falling onto her shoulder she feels his hot breath against the hollow of her neck.
"Tell me to stop now, and I will." She hears him breathe out. His voice is ragged, rough, far from the composed, measured tone he normally bore.
A thousand thoughts pass through her mind, all sides of her psyche warring with one another for a moment that seems to stretch on forever.
Her eye's travel to the hand still pressed to the wall beside her head, where it trembles lightly beneath his white robe, clawed fingers carving gouges into the wood as he struggles to hold himself in check.
He was asking her...he was asking her to tell him yes or no...He wanted her say.
Normally, this would be a good thing, a welcome thing. But not here...not with him, her mind was fogged and the haze of lust had not yet dissipated but she knew this was important. That she couldn't say yes or no here. It had to be him...he needed this choice. She groaned, closing her eyes as she breathed into his hair.
"Do what you want." She panted, the blood still pounding against her ears making it harder to think straight. She hoped that'd been right.
His calloused hands smoothed over the curvature of her ribs, his thumb raking the skin just beneath her breast. For a moment that caused a flutter in her stomach she thought he would pull away, until she saw his eyes raking over her. Something stirring, waking, hungering beneath his gaze.
Something had changed now. She could almost see it in his face, stripping him of his training, shredding his self control. And now something different, a stranger, a wild thing inside of him was uncoiling and spreading its wings.
His mouth returned, moving over her jaw, down her throat. She bit her lip, hissing through her teeth as she tips her head. Her hands tremble against his arms as she draws him closer as she feels the wet rasp of his tongue trailing a tender line of flesh from her ear to her neck.
He pulls away, and she wonders for a moment why before she feels what he's doing.
She doesn't look down, she keeps her eyes on him as she can feel a single claw rising. It trails up from her stomach. Slowly...slowly she feels it like the edge of the knife against her skin, and heat, painful, perfect heat caresses her flesh where his chakra burns its way through her clothes.
The cold touch of the air kisses her stomach and chest as the clothes part like a vest when he's done, sensitive flesh shivering as her blood rushes beneath her skin and her heart pounds against her skull.
Her legs uncoil from his waist, and her knees shake under her weight. She swallows.
"The bed." She hears herself say, moving around him towards the aforementioned piece of furniture.
Then his arms were around her again, pulling her back, holding her tightly against his body.
One arm wrapped around her waist, resting just beneath her belly button as she felt the other prickling the thin skin of her neck. One finger idly drawing itself across her throat with a silken touch as his ragged breath joined the pounding heartbeat in her head.
She shuddered, the world rippling within her eyes as her knees gave into the temptation to buckle, pressing her back against a chest that was far too hot for a man so cold. She reached up, blindly, fingers twining themselves in his hair again and right there, at the small of her back she felt that familiar hard heat pressed against her and the hand at her stomach trailed lower.
She shook with shivers, almost unable to stand, and her fingers tightened in his hair while the other wrapped around his wrist.
He pressed his fingers against her, and the blades at her neck prickled with her cry while the knives of her sudden, sharp pleasure tore through her.