"Well, at least that mess is finally over." Kankuro kicked his feet up onto the table, expertly ignoring his sister's scowl. He did yelp and move them to the floor when she flung a kunai in the tiny space between his ankles. "Kami, woman! Either you care about the furniture or you don't! How are my feet worse than that?" He gestured to the new hole in the already pockmarked woodwork.
"Don't be such a baby," Temari growled, tugging out her knife and heading over to the pale wooden cupboards and whipping open the one that creaked no matter how he greased it. "And don't brag, either. It's not over for me," she muttered sourly.
He snorted. "S'hardly my fault." Idly, he kept an eye on his miffed-looking sister while she rather viciously ripped open the plastic packaging on one of those fouly over-sweet baked goods imported from Iron. Kankuro grimaced, but held his tongue. He knew Temari enough to recognize that her rare indulgence in sugar generally meant she was stressed or distracted.
Seeing as how she had just agreed to be the liaison to Konoha, a position that would include making an extended trip there herself in several months' time, he figured it was stress.
Temari was a bit of a homebody—she didn't like leaving Suna for long periods of time. She'd been half-convinced that something terrible had happened to Gaara the whole time they were out on the border. His sister had two comfort zones: perched in the background like an overgrown turkey vulture while her little brothers cowered under her watchful eye; and happily bashing in heads with her fan (it's an antique, she'd primly remind him when he teased her for spending so much time getting blood out of all the little folds).
While his sister was so obviously stressed, she would attempt to calm herself in one of her two comfort zones. Kankuro would prefer that she choose to dote on Gaara and left him in peace, but would settle for not getting his head bashed in with her fan when he inevitably pissed her off too much by speaking.
"Good morning."
Kankuro startled, giving a fierce scowl to his younger brother who had just appeared in a wisp of sand and dry air from the outside.
Unfortunately it was early enough that he had yet to put on the greasy war paint that disguised the fact that he had a bit of a baby face, which significantly lessened the expression's effectiveness. (It was hard being so adorable all the time).
Unphased, Temari clicked on the coffee maker and responded in kind. It was a bit unusual for Gaara to join them for breakfast—he worked odd hours, since he didn't sleep. He was probably the most efficient Kage in history, and still had a frightful amount of time left to invest in personal improvement. As disinterested in conversation and therefore unpracticed in social graces as he was, her youngest brother was incredibly well-read. Of course, it wasn't like he had had much else to do every night for about a decade straight, so it shouldn't be surprising.
She glanced at her otouto as he settled into a chair at the table, dwarfed by the high back even after his growth spurt. It seemed he would never overcome the premature birth that had forced him out into the world so tiny and fragile. Temari was just old enough to remember her mother's fear that he wouldn't survive those first days.
Her heart still ached a little when she saw how tired and small he seemed. Despite knowing that Gaara was in fact monstrously powerful and intelligent, he just sorta looked like he needed a hug all the time. Temari indulged in the impulse, setting her muffin on the counter and practically leaping at him. That's what baby brothers were for, after: spoiling and snuggling.
To his credit, Gaara was used enough to sudden hugs from her that he didn't react. Once satisfied that he was still in one piece if a bit thin and under-muscled for a shinobi of his age, she swooped over to hug Kankuro for good measure. He, on the other hand, protested violently and did his best to push her off. While they scuffled, (eventually ending up on the floor) Gaara shook his head tiredly and opened the ice box to withdraw a yellow-orange piece of fruit. He then proceeded to engage in a short staring concept with it before gingerly biting in.
'He looks baffled,' Temari noted. 'Like he forgot what to do with it.' She gave Kankuro one last noisy kiss on the forehead for good measure and then pulled her arm from around his neck to release him from her wrestling hold. He scrambled to his feet and out the door top-haste, food forgotten. Apparently, he was too big and scary to be snuggled by his big sister, which only encouraged her to tease him.
"Is something wrong, Gaara?"
Temari busied herself with pouring two cups of coffee and handed one to Gaara. She did her best not to flinch when he dumped out half of it into an empty cup and filled his coffee with a downright shocking amount of chocolate milk. It wasn't really even coffee at that point… it was candy in a cup.
"No."
"Hmm." She sat, unconvinced. The Konoha delegation that had been darkening their doorstep for about two weeks had finally left. She'd thought that Gaara was discomfited by their presence—he had certainly been acting strangely enough after he'd had a private conference with the Uzumaki girl. Granted, he was odd at the best of times, but it was definitely abnormal for him to stare at girls.
After the last time she'd had a false alarm that Gaara had discovered hormones, Temari had decided to rule out other possibilities first. Besides, he just didn't seem the type to be so ham-handed about expressing interest. He had watched that girl as if she was about to leap over the table and into his lap if he wasn't wary enough.
'Or like he was trying to figure her out,' Temari allowed. Gaara did have a tendency to stare at the subject of his contemplations when he was thinking. Kankuro found the habit to be highly disturbing (in large part because he had used to do so to them while they were sleeping) but it made sense to her.
She wouldn't deny that she was curious. What had been so private that the girl had needed to speak to the Kazekage without even her teamleader present? Granted, Temari wasn't certain if the two were on excellent terms or if they absolutely despised each other. Their behavior was contradictory at times. It could be that the kunoichi didn't want to trust Sharingan no Kakashi with whatever that conversation had been. It must certainly be sensitive information, but what kind of sensitive information could a teenager possibly have? Was it a message from the Hokage—but that didn't even make sense, what would Uzumaki be trusted to know that her own apprentice wasn't? It just didn't add up.
'He would have told me if I needed to know,' she scolded herself for her own curiosity. But still… what could it hurt to ask? If it was really sensitive he just wouldn't tell her.
"Hey, Gaara."
"Yes?" He looked up at her through black-lined eyes, and she valiantly resisted the urge to recommend a good concealer. The darkened skin would just end up green or something, and that would hardly be better than the jet color. She stirred her drink thoughtfully with a small spoon.
"What did that girl want to talk to you about?" She didn't bother keeping the curiosity out of her voice. It was best to be up-front with Gaara.
"Aiko."
Temari looked up sharply. "What?"
"Her name is Aiko," Gaara corrected. He almost sounded distracted, but she knew better. "I am afraid that I cannot tell you, Temari."
"That's alright," she said distantly, noting the way that his hand had moved towards a single kunai he had definitely not kept strapped to his arm before. What use had Gaara for such a conventional weapon? It had to mean something… especially since he'd only chosen to openly display it after the Konoha delegation had left. 'I think you already gave me a clue anyway.'
"You're not doing him any favors by keeping him confined to the village, you know," Kakashi commented idly when asked if he had any other comments to make at the end of his report. Tsunade should have known better than to ask such an open-ended question around him. He was a bit of a troll at times. Aiko took a moment to adjust to the change in subject, shooting a glance at Sasuke who looked a bit miffed to be discussed as if he wasn't present. "He's gotten rusty in his long distance runs. He needs field work. Besides, isn't it past time that he got a promotion?"
Tsunade colored. "Fine talk, coming from you!"
Aiko suddenly felt a little irritated at the commentary as well. She was pretty certain that comment was referring to her.
"Besides," the Hokage continued, "Do you have any idea how valuable he'd be when sold for parts? No, thank you, I've finally gotten used to having him around."
Coming from her, that was a touching declaration of fondness. Sasuke gained just a little bit of pink on his cheeks. Aiko, on the other hand, was busy mulling over the coldness of describing what could happen to him if captured as being 'sold for parts'. It wasn't inaccurate, but... Jeeze.
"I'm not saying that we should truss him up and toss him over the border to Lightning to see what happens," Kakashi said slowly. "Nor that what he has accomplished is less than impressive. But unless he truly intends to become a non-combatant, he needs experience he isn't going to get by single-handedly reinventing the field of healthcare for pre-adolescent ninja."
(it was a rather ambitious project, but a sorely necessary one when conventional wisdom was to 'push them as far as you want, they're just short adults'…)
Tsunade gave a sore look to her apprentice, clearly recognizing just as much as they did that a lack of combat experience would kill him just as well as lack of abilities. "Fine then. Consider yourself my babysitter."
Suddenly, Sasuke seemed to have recovered from his bout of reluctant fondness for his shishou and gave her a nasty, snarly look. She airily pretended not to see.
"I'll give you a few missions to get him some light practice under manageable conditions. Nothing too strenuous, but hopefully just enough that I can justify a Chuunin promotion. It's not like he doesn't have the skill set," she pointed out with a frown. Then she leveled Kakashi and Aiko with a vicious glare. "If he comes back with so much as a broken nail, though, it's on your heads. In fact…" Tsunade shuffled through her desk for the constantly updated roster of shinobi in-village and assigned to missions. "I'd really feel comfortable with at least one more ANBU level back up… he's a valuable target, what with his pretty swirly eyes and being privy to the ear of the most important woman in Fire Country and all."
Kakashi's slightly disbelieving stare implied that he thought she was the worst kind of hypocrite for daring to insinuate that he was overprotective. Aiko just stifled snickers. She didn't bother to hide the amusement in her eyes, however, which earned her a heartfelt glower from Sasuke.
Tsunade seemed completely oblivious to the undertones, concentrating as she was. "Yamato is still out of the village," she mumbled to herself with a scowl, apparently looking for a replacement. "If you weren't so damn difficult to work with…"
Aiko blinked and glanced uncertainly at her suddenly innocent-looking mentor. Kakashi, difficult to work with? That was a weird thing to say. Who wouldn't want to work with him?
"Aha!" She triumphantly checked a name off, inadvertently tearing the paper. "I found one that never got around to filing a complaint about you. You remember that nice boy named Sai, right?"
Sasuke choked.
Shizune lost it, howling with laughter. Aiko jumped like a kicked animal and whipped around to stare. 'Damn, that woman is sneaky. I had no idea she was back there.'
"Excellent idea, Hokage-sama," Sasuke's senpai somehow managed to wheeze, heroically managing to dismiss the affronted look he was giving her.
"Maa, maa." Kakashi slouched, indicating he was bored with the conversation. "That's settled, then. Before we get too far off topic, I think my cute little apprentice has something to tell you."
Aiko stiffened guiltily. She'd been starting to wonder if she had been wrong when she thought that Kakashi would have listened in on her conversation with Gaara. She should have known better- of course he had. He was incorrigibly nosy about things like his subordinates asking for private audiences with foreign Kage. He was unreasonable like that.
"Ah, yes." She flexed her toes inside her boots, glancing a little uncertainly at her mentor. His countenance was blank—no hint whatsoever as to his thoughts.
'That's helpful,' she sighed.
Tsunade groaned. "I'm going to regret letting you out of my sight, aren't I," she half-joked tiredly. "Alright, get out, you two." Sasuke shot her an inscrutable look, but followed Shizune out of the office and pulled the door shut behind him. There was long moment where Kakashi seemed ready to speak, but a thought occurred to Tsunade. She lifted her head and hollered, "And don't listen in this time!"
Kakashi held his hand up to muffle a snicker at the same time that there was the slightly distorted sound of Shizune grumbling quietly on the other side of the door, before a flicker of blue around the frame indicated that one of them had dutifully powered up the stifling seals. The Hokage rolled her eyes fondly.
"Nosy little brats," she explained proudly. "They thought I didn't know about it."
'Does... does that mean she actually wants them to practice spying on her?'
With that singularly disturbing concept in mind, Aiko fidgeted with the one Hiraishin kunai on her person and expertly drowned out the insistent singing of the one in Kakashi's pocket (as well as the humming of Yamato's that indicated Tsunade had been lying about him being out of the village. She'd thought it best not to bring that up.) At least she wasn't too bothered by Gaara's anymore. It was so far off that she could barely feel it whine for her attention.
"Right." Kakashi nudged her pointedly.
She sighed. "I think what he wants me to tell you is that I gave Gaara a Hiraishin kunai."
Tsunade looked mildly nauseous. "He can use Hiraishin?" She leaned over her desk, inadvertently exposing a few extra inches of cleavage.
'What? Who said anything about that?'
"No." Aiko furrowed her brow in faint confusion. Kakashi's arm twitched as if he longed to slap a hand to his forehead. "It's so that I'll know if something happens to him. He's in the same danger Naruto is, right? But he doesn't have Jiraiya of the Sannin following him around like a particularly grungy guard dog."
Clearly relieved, Tsunade sank back into her seat. "He is a big boy, you know," she pointed out with a tone of amusement. "I bet he dresses himself and everything. It's not your responsibility to protect the Kazekage."
"No, but it's my responsibility to protect Naruto," Aiko argued. "Gaara is his friend, and he's in danger. What do you think the first thing he'll say when I give him a kunai for his own protection from Akatsuki?"
At that point, Kakashi really did slap a palm to his forehead, looking pained.
It appeared that everyone in the office had come to the conclusion she'd painted. Rather than irritated, Tsunade looked mildly touched. "You're probably right," she allowed. "And I did technically declassify that when I told you to tell Kakashi. It's your technique, and you're allowed to be an idiot on your own time. But I have a strange feeling that you'll not often find the Kazekage outside of Suna. Do you really think you can go that far?"
"Yes," she lied clearly, keeping her own trepidation out of her voice and expressions, both bodily and facial.
It was a lie she'd been prepared to make. There was no way to be certain it was as safe as Minato had indicated in his notes without trying it herself, but it was worth the risk. She didn't see another option that would allow her to keep an eye on him. Konoha and Suna weren't that far apart in the grand scale of things, after all.
Aiko didn't know whether to feel ashamed or satisfied that her mentor and the Hokage didn't question the claim. Since when could she fool Kakashi? Of course, the better question was probably, 'since when did she want to'. It was undeniable that he was much more skilled and experienced than she was, but Aiko was formidable in her own right. Sometimes, she didn't want to have to justify everything to him. She was an adult and had been for four-and-a-half years by shinobi standards and almost a year by civilian standards. Aiko was old enough to make a few judgments about risks that only affected her without outside help by now, thank you very much.
"And you trust that he won't take advantage of this?" Tsunade pressed, sounding genuinely curious.
Aiko nodded firmly. "Yes. Naruto trusts in his character, and I have faith in his discretion. They don't make idiots into Kage, after all. That leaves the only possible worry is his being overpowered and losing control of the seal, but if I can't trust the Kazekage to be strong enough to keep something safe, I don't know who could protect it".
Other than Kakashi. He could do anything. (Anything but comb his damn hair, apparently).
Tsunade gave a little shrug, tilting her head casually so that one of her ponytails slipped over her shoulder out of sight. "If you get yourself into an ambush, just remember that it was your own overconfidence to blame". (Kakashi looked disgruntled at her nonchalance.) "Can I assume that you're done handing those things out like candy?"
"Naruto's going to get one," she countered instantly.
The Hokage rolled her eyes. "Other than him."
Aiko thought for a moment. "Maybe Sasuke?" she offered. "But I can't see myself giving one to anyone else outside my team other than that, no."
"Very well." Tsunade waved at them as if telling them to scatter. "I hope you know that if necessary, you're going to be my official short-notice errand girl to Suna."
"That's fine," Aiko agreed. She didn't have much of a choice.
When the two ruffians had left her office, Tsunade began silently gathering up her belongings to attempt to make a covert escape out the window. She'd been working late so many nights in a row that she hardly remembered the sensation of sun on her skin. (Granted, as Shizune complained, she might feel more sunshine if she didn't have a small rainforest crowded in front of the window, but what else was she going to do with all the damn plants?)
She winced and held her breath for a moment when the window squealed… and then remembered that the room was silenced. She was home free.
'I hope Hatake knows what he's doing,' she thought solemnly, letting her legs dangle over the drop and adjusting the tan sling bag over her shoulder before stealthily slipping off to the ground. When he'd been called in and informed that Jiraiya had modified and approved Aiko's anti-Root seal, he'd been surprisingly opposed to the idea of ambushing the boy named Sai and torturing him for information. (And getting the seal to work had been an ordeal in itself that included a shockingly irritated letter from Jiraiya about opening a storage seal to find a tongue floating in preservatives. She was still a bit confused about that. She had safely labeled the tongue severed from the captured Root agent as private correspondence and warned him to be alone when opening it. What on earth had he been expecting? Cheesecake?)
To be honest, she did feel a little guilty about the plan of tricking Sai into her office and capturing him to use against his master. The Root members were still shinobi under her protection even if they were sworn to Danzo. Konoha had to accept a lot of blame for what had been done to those soldiers as children… Danzo didn't operate in a vacuum after all. Sai was a victim of Konoha's ineptitude just as much as he was a traitor's tool.
Kakashi had argued that Sai was young enough that he was vulnerable to being subverted, especially since he displayed particular interest in learning how to interact with his age group. She rather doubted that Hatake was right about how plausible that was, but she was willing to pass the boy off into his care for a while and let his team try.
Tsunade wasn't an idiot. She knew that on some level, his insistence stemmed from the fact that Kakashi hated endangering anyone who had served under him. If he had to he would obey orders, but the man would much rather use anything but force. It was hard to hold that against him, however. He was a good leader, one who was genuinely interested in the welfare of everyone under his protection. If push came to shove he would do what must be done, but he also wasn't in the habit of fooling himself. Hatake must have seen something in the boy that she had missed (not surprising, since he had spent an extended mission with the child and she only saw him in passing).
On the bright side, she trusted the small team who would be with Sai on a personal level beyond her usual relationship with her soldiers. Sasuke had her ear and she knew him inside and out (could break him down and build him up if she wanted to). Tsunade had the benefits of knowing Kakashi for years and was intimately with his failings and strengths.
And she'd just decided what it was that had unsettled her so much about Aiko. The girl reminded her of herself. The teen was a bit spoiled by a very caring mentor, talented, and almost unhealthily attached to her younger brother.
It was a strangely fitting parallel, since Naruto carried Nawaki's dream. Maybe this generation wouldn't falter as hers had under the painful weight of a long war.
Unlike Tsunade whose desire to protect Nawaki had extended to other loved ones and manifested as a desire to heal in general, Aiko just hadn't figured out a personal drive beyond Naruto. It was plain to see that she didn't really love her work, although she dutifully carried it out to please her mentor and fulfill the requirements. Doubtlessly Aiko would excel when she eventually figured out what she wanted.
'Maybe I should give her a chance to work apart from Hatake,' Tsunade mused, unaware of the irony that her mind was still on work even when she had literally run away from it. 'Perhaps it'll force her to reconsider her motivations for serving Konoha and find a passion, as it were.'
Keiko glanced out the window and spotted her honored Hokage gleefully making a break for it across the lawn. Her head hit the surface of her desk, and her carefully pinned hair slumped heavily from the change in gravity.
'This is the most stressful job I've ever had.'
She opened her mouth and worked her jaw silently for a moment, struggling for words. It felt like there should be some for this odd situation. Eventually, she settled for, "You're been treating my room like a library?"
Ino and Karin exchanged guilty glances.
"I didn't think you'd mind," her cousin eventually offered. "You leant Ino some before, so when she came by I didn't think much of it."
"What she said." Ino gave a toothy grin. It was very fake. The girl was thinking furiously, examining different rhetorical strategies.
'They make me so tired sometimes'.
She stalled answering for a second. When she slowly inhaled through her nose and walked over to her bed, Aiko noted the lingering of multiple sources of perfume that indicated this had not been the first time Ino had come by while she was gone.
It wasn't exactly that she minded someone else reading her books. She wasn't embarrassed by any of them. But letting someone else into her room had been a major violation of her privacy, and Aiko was definitely not pleased with Karin. Actually, she was a little tired of having the other girl as a roommate. From a distance, Karin was enjoyable to spend time with, but living with her was another thing. It wasn't like Aiko had ever decided to move in with Karin—she'd been pushed into it by the third Hokage (which was more than a bit annoying) so she had a hard time even telling herself that dealing with minor differences was just part of agreeing to live together.
"Just… don't do this anymore. If I'm out of town, then you can wait."
Karin gave a shame-faced nod and slipped out of the room at high speed. Ino (either bravely or stupidly) didn't quail under her glare. "Didn't you say that you liked my idea of publishing some of these?" she demanded, poking bossily into Aiko's personal space.
'I'm almost impressed that she's trying to turn this around and make it my fault,' Aiko noted dazedly. It was just unreal. Ino was unreal.
"Yes, so? That doesn't give you license to come in here while I'm gone and go through my things," she countered aggressively.
Thin, glossed lips quirked into a victorious smile, but Aiko had no idea why. "What if I took care of that for you," Ino proposed. "Either under your name or a penname. I can send them off to a publisher's. I told you that my family knows a man who can get it done easily. You'll make tons of money, and then I'll get to read whatever I want. We both win."
Aiko rolled her eyes. "I don't want to send off my only copies to some man I don't even know," she pointed out snarkily. "I mean, if you want to copy them by hand before you send them, then sure. Fine!"
She was expecting Ino to falter at that. It would be a large commitment. The idea of copying any of her books word for work was severely unappealing.
"That's acceptable."
Something stuttered in her brain at the easy way Ino tossed her hair and fixed her with a smug look.
"You'll be thanking me when you're making tons of money," she sighed airily, tilting her hip and picking up a book she'd already read. "I'll expect you to dedicate one to me. Maybe even write me into a story. I deserve to be written about, after all." Her ponytail was the last thing Aiko saw swish out the door. Her brain hadn't quite caught up yet.
"What the hell just happened?"
"Watch your fucking mouth," Hinata said quietly as she passed the doorway with an ironic smile, half buried under the basket of purple laundry she was hauling to her room.
'The world has gone mad,' Aiko bemoaned sadly, flopping down on her bed. Maybe a nap would improve things.