Cupcakes

When Kankurou and Temari woke up that morning, they had gone for their usual routine, as far as their younger brother could see. Temari always came to the breakfast table first, and after checking pointlessly to see if her other younger brother was there yet and giving a brief and somewhat tense greeting to the youngest, who was at the table, watching her intently, she fixed herself a bowl of cereal. She didn't ask if he wanted one. She never did, and that was fine because he didn't. He had tried that cereal once and it had been very sweet. A varying amount of time later, Kankurou would come down, face paint firmly in place, and give a tired greeting to his sister before fixing his own breakfast. Sometimes Kankurou remembered that Gaara was always at the table and greeted him too, sometimes he gave a vague greeting to both his siblings, and sometimes he greeted Gaara after he'd started to cook or after he had sat down. He never offered his brother anything either. That was fine too. The youngest of the three siblings had no wish to sample his elder brother's cooking. He highly doubted it was any good.

During breakfast, the elder two siblings would talk. Recently, they had done their best to include Gaara in their conversations, occasionally asking him questions or asking his opinion on a certain subject, to which he would give a vague or simple reply, and the conversation would continue.

He had been shocked the first time they had chosen to include him. He hadn't been listening to his siblings' conversation. Instead, he had been studying his brother's face, trying to figure out why he always wore that garish war paint, when Temari had turned to him and simply said "Isn't that right, Gaara?"
Kankurou had frozen up, shocked that his sister would consider asking Gaara's opinion. Gaara looked to her upon hearing his name, and it took him a moment to realise she was waiting for him to respond. Tension filled the air, the kind that you could only cut through with a guillotine, and he found himself reluctant to admit he hadn't been paying attention.
"Sure." He eventually stated, though he had no idea what he was agreeing to. Temari smiled and turned back to Kankurou with a triumphant look, and the horror on the elder brother's face slowly slipped into an embarrassed annoyance. Gaara paid attention to the conversations more often after that, and Temari continued to ask his opinion, a habit that Kankurou eventually fell into as well.

After breakfast, the three siblings went their separate ways. Gaara went out to train that day, as Kankurou had shut himself away with his puppets and Temari said she had promised to meet someone in the village that day. The day was uneventful, aside from the usual whispers and efforts to avoid him, which he did his best to ignore, and he went back home when he started to feel hungry.

This was probably the strangest interruption to routine he had ever seen, if he was honest. When he returned to the kitchen, there was a sweet smell in the air. It reminded him of a bakery he had wandered into once. Someone had been baking, but Temari didn't cook and Kankurou certainly didn't seem like he enjoyed cooking. And yet, someone had left twelve cupcakes on the table. All chocolate, with some reddish-pink icing and raspberries on top. Probably left out to cool. Glancing around, the young shinobi saw no sign of either of his siblings, and curiously lifted one of the cakes. He disliked sweet things, and had no intention of eating it, but it was still a strange item to find around here. And still warm.
"You can have that, if you want."
Slowly, Gaara turned to look at his brother, who was now stood in the doorway, watching with a bored expression. "I don't want it." Gaara answered after a moment, but he didn't put it down. Even so, for a split second, Kankurou looked disappointed.
"Fair enough." He turned to leave again, and the younger brother frowned. He was still learning to build bonds with others, and his first step was to build those bonds with his siblings, and some part of him believed his siblings wished to build those bonds with him, but it was difficult. If he wanted to build bonds, he would have to spend more time with them, talk to them more. He knew this. Of course he knew this, but it didn't make it any easier.
"Did you make them?" The words were out of his mouth before he'd registered the thought, but Kankurou stopped and turned.
"Yeah. There's plenty of stuff left that'd otherwise go to waste, so I decided...why not? So...I made some cakes."
"How?"
Now, the puppeteer frowned. Had Gaara just asked him how to make a cake? It seemed fairly straightforward to him. Then again, it made sense that Gaara wouldn't know how to bake. "You...want me to teach you how to bake cupcakes?"
He didn't particularly want that, Gaara decided almost instantly, but Kankurou was interested in spending time with him now. He nodded. "Ones without chocolate."
"I can do that..." The elder went to the cupboards, pulling out a variety of objects. Large bowls and wooden spoons, bags of sugar and flour, a set of scales..."Could you get eggs and butter from the fridge?"
"Eggs and butter." Gaara echoed dully, doing as told and placing the ingredients beside the mixing bowl. Kankurou stood back so his younger brother could stand at the counter.
"Okay, first, we need to measure out the flour. For twelve cakes, you need six ounces of flour, and six ounces of sugar. Equal weights, and half that number of eggs, so we'll be using three eggs. Anyway, for now just...measure the flour." He watched for a moment before nodding. "That's it. Now it goes into the bowl."
Tipping the flour into one of the bowls didn't go too well. It blew up in a cloud of floury smoke, some finding its way onto Gaara's face and black top. He coughed and Kankurou tried not to laugh, reminding himself firmly that laughing could cost him his life.
"Okay, that's a, um, occupational hazard, jaan. That happens even if you're careful. Okay, now six ounces of sugar. Careful, don't pour out too much at once..." There was a huge heap of sugar on the scales now. Almost the whole packet! Gaara scowled at the scales.
"It went wrong."
"Just put the sugar back in the bag. You can use your hands if you want, you've washed them. Or pour it all back in from the scale bowl itself."
And so the next few minutes were spent shoveling sugar back into the sugar bag until the scales read roughly six ounces. Kankurou helped out, of course.
"Now, that goes in a different bowl. We'll add them together in a minute." While the younger brother carefully transferred the sugar to its proper place, the elder unwrapped the butter and cut chunks off until the remaining stick weighed the same as the sugar and flour. "Same measurements for the butter." He explained before placing it in with the sugar. He then handed Gaara the wooden spoon. "This next bit, you have to cream that together, which is basically working them together with the spoon until they're sort of like a paste. Just try and mash the butter into the sugar. I've forgotten to get a few things." He turned back to the cupboards as Gaara struggled with the latest task. It was harder than it sounded. The butter refused to move and wouldn't mix with the sugar right unless he managed to cut it with the spoon and mash it against the side of the bowl. As he continued to struggle on, a whisk and smaller bowl was placed on the counter, on the other side of the flour bowl, and a moment later, a sieve joined them.
"What are those for?" The redhead asked suspiciously.
"The eggs." Came the simple response. "Need a hand with that?"
He released the spoon. "You do this. I'll do the eggs."
"Yeah, sure." They switched places, and Kankurou took care of the creaming with ease.
"What do I do exactly?"
"Crack the eggs against the side of the small bowl and pour the yolks in, then whisk them up." For a moment, Gaara hesitated, hyper aware of what he was doing lest he mess up again. Then he became hyper aware that Kankurou was watching him, and quickly set to cracking three eggs. No mistakes here, and there were still four eggs left over for breakfast the next morning. "Done."
"Yeah, I'm done here too. Bring that over here."
Once again, he found himself doing exactly as his big brother asked, and once again he messed up.

When Kankurou had unwrapped the butter, he had carelessly tossed the wrapper onto the edge of the counter. When he left to get everything for the eggs, the wrapper had fallen to the floor. Gaara did not see it there, and stepped on it, and his foot slipped from underneath him...

He didn't hit the floor, or even a bed of sand. Egg went flying, the bowl leaving his hands as he threw them out to save himself. Hands closed firmly around his wrists, keeping him from falling too far. Kankurou had caught him, and was somewhat humourously splattered in the face with a good amount of egg.
"You okay, ototo?" He asked, helping Gaara right himself. He had a strange tone to his voice, something the young jinchuriki took a bit of time to identify. His brother was concerned.
"I'm fine..." When Kankurou released him, he wiped his hands off on his top, only to find it was also covered in egg. The puppeteer paused to pick up the butter wrapper and put the rest of the butter away, then returned and placed the bowl on the counter again. Then, he started to laugh.
"Sorry!" He managed through the fit of giggles. "I'm not laughing at you, honest I'm not, but this is...it's not a situation I ever thought I'd be in. In the kitchen, with you, trying to bond over cupcakes and covered in egg!"
Gaara went to crack three more eggs. "It seems to work."
"Huh?" He laughed again, picking up the bowl of flour. "You think so?"
"You seem relaxed." It honestly seemed that slipping and throwing egg everywhere had broken the tension.
"I suppose I am."
He whisked the egg up again. "Do you enjoy cooking?" It did strike him that he knew very little about his brother.
"I find it pretty enjoyable, I guess. Not my favourite thing to do, but still. It's a hobby."
"I see."
Kankurou seemed to have the same kind of thought concerning what he did and didn't know about his younger brother. "What do you like doing?"
"As...hobbies?"
"Yeah. Oh, pour some of the egg into the sugar, I'll add a bit of flour, you mix it and we'll repeat that until it's all together."
Gaara thought for a moment. "I'm not sure."
"Do you have any big interests?"
"...Cacti..."
"Cacti?"
"Yes. I've been trying to care for one. It's not as easy as some might think."
"Nothing ever really is, but I get what you mean."
They fell silent then, but Gaara was okay with that, Kankurou was remarkably relaxed in his company, and he supposed just being in his presence, working with him on something that wasn't life or death, it would improve their relationship.

When they finished mixing everything, Kankurou brought a baking tray, a new spoon and several cupcake cases over to the counter with the simple explanation that they needed to separate the cake mix into the cases, trying to make them roughly equal. That was simple enough, yet Gaara still managed to drop a good amount down his front, and then into the oven they went, and the boys set about cleaning everything away.

~*~*~*~*~

Much later, Temari entered the living room to find two plates of cakes on the table. She heard footsteps behind her and glanced over her shoulder.
"Kankurou, I think you have a problem. You're constantly making these things..."
"I didn't make those ones." He answered, coming to stand beside his elder sister. "Gaara did."
"Gaara?" She hesitated. "Are they safe to eat?"
"They're quite good, actually. You can have one if you want. I think he actually enjoyed making them."
Temari looked at the collection of cupcakes on the table and thought that maybe, just maybe, her youngest brother was going to become a real brother, one they wouldn't have to fear, and that, with any luck, he could even stay that way.

B-Day Gift for Fiona

The doors were locked, preventing escape, and for good reason, though admittedly it made Erskine nervous. The phone lines had been brought down by the storm and there was no signal, preventing calls for help, almost setting him on the verge of a panic attack. He shifted from foot to foot uncertainly, watching the faces of a good eleven other people, including the detective.

You see, no less than half an hour ago, a murder had taken place. And once again, Erskine Allwood wondered why he found himself in the middle of this sort of thing all the time. Really, it was ridiculous! He was always the centre of that god awful attention. To his right, arms crossed when he wished above all else they were there for comfort, stood Erskine's husband, Mario. The bodybuilder likely felt guilty, which was why he would not meet Erskine's eyes or touch him. They had not too long ago returned from their honeymoon, during which the bodybuilder had been possessed, and had subsequently cheated on his husband, though it was almost certainly against his will. So far, he had yet to forgive himself for his misdeeds.

To his left stood a wealthy-looking old bag of a woman, with her hair dyed platinum blonde, a heavy coat made of real fur, lots of pink and white make-up over her wrinkles (giving the effect of a powdered and sprinkled doughnut) and a small dog with dyed pink fur in her arms. Every so often, she gave the two men a vile glare. Erskine didn't like her. Opposite the three of them, a muscular blonde woman hung tight onto a bearded man's arm. Judging by the weight around her waistline, the woman was pregnant. She didn't seem scared or even disturbed by the presence of a corpse. Her husband, however, had his eyes covered with his free hand.

Crouched over the body, examining it closely, was the detective. A man with long, black hair and pale skin, and a hearing aid. A deaf detective, just what everyone needed. And there he crouched over the body. It had been a man, small and redheaded, and the cause of death was some kind of brutal traumatic injury. Not something you wanted to see when on holiday.

And that's what everyone there was doing. They were on holiday. The building was a sort of getaway retreat in the countryside, where people of all walks of life went to spend a week or two in peace. Well, some peace! Peace would be a nice book on the terrace. Peace would be your favourite song while you daydream. Peace is watching TV with friends or family. Drifting around a lovely or interesting area and taking in every breathtaking sight. Not here, though. Here, people had come with the intention of doing exactly that, only for the guests to find that one of their number had been mowed down in the night. The detective straightened, took in the faces of the other ten people gathered there before asking, loud and clear, "Does anyone know the identity of this man?"
There was a cold silence before one man spoke up. He was the tallest there, apart from Mario. He hadn't woken up that long ago judging by his tired, rumpled and sickly look. "Yeah...his name's Stan..."
"Stan...and his full name? Stanley...?"
"Langston Dennis."
"I see." The detective muttered, writing something down before doing a - somewhat comedic - double take. "What did you say?"
"Langston Dennis. The guy on the floor. He's twenty, from London, doesn't work. Studies performing arts at Mountview."
"Oh...oh, I recognise him now..." He wrote something else down before stepping back. "How do you know the, uh, the deceased?"
"I'm his brother."
The air grew colder. You could hear the bitter bite of sorrow in the sickly man's voice as he said these words, and nobody dared contradict them. They were close, as siblings went, and it was a shocking revelation. And now, tiny Langston Dennis was nothing more than a cooling corpse on the carpet. There was something else there though. The detective turned to the sickly elder brother once more.
"It's good to see you again, old friend." And with that, he swept his arm to direct us to a nearby recreational room. "I shall speak to you first, actually, since you're furthest from the door. Everyone else, this way, please. Wait to be called."

With that, the other ten suspects went to the newly dubbed waiting room to await their fates. For all they knew, as they looked at one another, one of the people in there with them was a murderer. A woman Erskine was sure worked there spoke first.
"I think I'm going to be sick..."
The lodge's owner placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "There there, Shivani, darlink. The awful man who did this will be brought to justice, and I know you're innocent."
The girl, Shivani, gave a weak smile, but the lodge owner continued.
"Obviously the poor boy was killed with a lot of force, though, so I doubt it was a woman. It must have been one of the strong men over there. Not the flabby mess in spectacles or the weedy black boy."
A few cries of indignation flew out, followed by "Not all women are weak and pathetic like you, you know."
The speaker was a woman. American. The athletic girl who was obviously pregnant. "I can take down men the size of Mr Muscle here." She continued, gesturing to Mario carelessly.
"Young ladies like you shouldn't be lifting weights and fighting boys." The woman with the pink dog scolded under her breath. "Women are delicate flowers who should be keeping clean and pure and not dirtying themselves to the level of filthy men."
"Ah, a sexist." The American mused, crossing her arms with a smirk. "And my husband should go out, work hard and support and protect me at all times? My ambition is to be a business woman. A successful one. You think I shouldn't do that because I'm a woman?"
"Absolutely not! You're about to become a mother! What kind of mother would you be, running businesses, lifting weights, making your poor children so embarrassed?"
The American stood, and in an effort to stop a fight breaking out, Erskine moved to the middle of the room. "Right!" He yelled at the top of his voice. "It's nice to meet you all! I haven't had the pleasure of really getting to know most of you, as it is. My name is Erskine, I'm from Ireland, I'm on holiday to recover from traumatic experience, and this really isn't helping! This is my husband, Ma-"
"I knew there was something wrong about you!" The pink dog woman yelled.
"Mario!" Erskine continued as though she had said nothing. "He's here for the same reason. What's your name?" He gestured to the dog woman, who sneered at his hand.
"I am the honourable Lady Petunia Magnolia Prudence Octavia Baudelaire."
"Petunia. Pleasure. I'm sure we all know our landlady, Elka."
"Alka." Alka corrected dully.
"And evidently the maid with us today is named Shivani."
Shivani gave a shy wave and the room fell silent, waiting for the next introduction. Finally, the overweight man with spectacles spoke up.
"My name's Randy, and this is my wife, Hannah..." Hannah inclined her head politely. Like her, her husband was American. "I'm here on, um, business travel."
"Aren't you that author?" A boy with green lipstick asked.
"I'm an author, yes..."
"You're the guy that wrote 'Pigs Without Ears' and 'When The Tower Falls'! Oh man, I have wanted to meet you forever!"
"Thank you, um..."
"Prince! Prince Day!" Prince excitedly bounced up to the rather stunned author and shook his hand vigorously. "I even have one of your books with me! You think you could sign it?"
"Maybe...once all this has blown over...I suppose..."
"I'm Marley." The scrawny dark-skinned boy mumbled beneath this repeatedly before finally raising his voice enough to be heard. Then, all eyes turned to an otherwise silent and solemn man by the window. Marley didn't seem to mind not being greeted. Window man said nothing.
"And you are...?" Hannah asked eventually.
"Aidan." The man answered eventually. He said nothing more, just kept staring out the window at a squirrel or something. Silence fell. Things were a little less tense, a little more comfortable.

Meanwhile, with Detective Burrira, in a cleaning cupboard that they had thrown the supplies out of, the interview of the first suspect had begun.
"Name?" The detective asked, all business.
"You know my name." The suspect replied, scowling, arms crossed.
"I have to at least try to play this by the book, Prosperity." Phoenix pointed out as he noted the man's name regardless. "And I suppose we can skip age and how you know the corpse as well."
"He...don't refer to him as 'the corpse'! He's my brother!"
"Now now, let's remain calm. Prosperity, were you aware of any enemies Langston may have had?"
"None."
"Okay..." He noted something down again. Prosperity was, of course, the best one to grill for information on the deceased by nature. "Do you know anyone else here today? Anyone here who may have known him?"
"His ex..."
"Her name?"
"Shivani Smith-Duffy."
More notes. "I see. How did they break up?"
"It was...I'm not sure. You'll have to ask her."
"When did you last see the deceased alive?"
Prosperity shuddered. "Um...before I went to bed...we were at the bar, having a drink...I turned in early. I normally turn in quite early these days as I just get so tired...took some painkillers, bid he sleep well and left him. I didn't leave my room at any point in the night."
"Have you got an alibi?"
"Well, no-one shared my room with me, so...no...I suppose not." He shrugged, rubbing his eye. "Wait...you don't think I killed him..."
"It's my job. I ought to suspect everyone." Phoenix pointed out, rolling his eyes. "Have you got any previous convictions?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Positive."
"Of course."
"And why are you both here today?"
"Holiday...um..."
"That much is obvious, I suppose...why did you want to come on holiday here?"
"I'm not well...Stan's been helping." Prosperity answered uncertainly, trying to draw up the facts in his head. "Helping look after me, and my daughter, and...I guess he needed a break, and our sister won these two tickets...gave them to us, and Stan sort of insisted I come because it was that or leave me at the mercy of the hospitals..."
"And would that be a bad thing?"
"I don't really like hospitals...I've spent enough time in them."
"And you've been getting on well with your brother? No major fights?"
"Not that I've...no reason to go as far as to bloody kill him, certainly!"
"Calm down." Phoenix urged in an annoyingly gentle tone. "If you start shouting this close up, it'll be a nightmare. Everyone has their motives, even you."
"Then what is mine?"
"All in good time. You have quite a temper on you, after all."
"I-! You little-! I don't-!"
The detective noted something down with a smirk before gesturing for Prosperity to leave. "Send in the next suspect please."

One by one, Phoenix called them in to discuss things. Erskine and Mario were each others' alibis. Hannah certainly had the strength for such a brutal murder on a normal day, but heavily pregnant her strength would be more awkward to use. No weapon had yet been found despite the detective's best efforts, but then again, there were professionals around him, such as convicted criminal Aidan Jenkins, who Phoenix remembered vaguely from an old murder case that was all over the news when he was seven. Then again, Phoenix noted his umbrella was missing from the stand and may well have matched the wounds in young Langston's body if he found it.

Shivani had discovered the body first, and was the woman Prosperity sent in after him. She was petite and very nervous when she came in to be questioned, but Phoenix found little from her. She had been up all night, judging by the bags under her eyes, but she claimed she had slept through the night easily, aside from hearing a man get up in the night to go to the bathroom and be sick. Poor man, she had commented.
"Any idea who it was?"
"No, but the footsteps were heavy, definitely a man, and definitely sick, like Prosperity."
Phoenix nodded. "You know his name."
"I know all my guest's names..." She answered shakily.
"Do you know my name?"
She paled and stayed silent. The answer was clear enough. She knew the room numbers, and where to bring everything to, but she never saw the names on the books.
"And how do you know the deceased?" He asked after a moment.
"Mr Dennis is a guest here, I've-"
"Yet, you know him as more than just a guest, Miss Smith."
"Not...not very well...not any more...I haven't seen him for a while now...a couple of months..."
"Were you close?"
"Once." She had at least realised that lying would get her nowhere, and now was hugging herself tightly, shivering slightly, as though the closet was made of ice. "Not any more. He's my ex boyfriend."
"I see. And you broke up?"
"He dumped me for a more feminine model." She spat. Shivani had a somewhat masculine face, he had to admit, and a boyish build, so he could understand what Shivani meant. Langston had found a prettier girl. A girl with more curves and softer features, and at some point along the line he had found he preferred the new skirt. If Phoenix knew Shivani, he might have been able to judge, but for all he knew, the girl stood before him could have been an absolute cow to the deceased. And with those words, that bitter, cold, hateful tone, Shivani had just announced her motive. "And I was living with him at the time as well. Where the hell did he expect me to go?! He's put me through hell lately and...and now he's...oh god!" She covered her face with her hands, the shock getting to her. Phoenix offered no comfort, no words to calm her, just wrote in his notebook. He didn't get much more out of her. Apparently, Langston was a painfully shy person apart from when performing. He didn't have many friends, and didn't talk to many strangers, and mostly preferred to keep to himself. Not the kind of guy who made enemies easily.

Erskine was next into the detective's makeshift office, and he frankly looked bored. Arms crossed, unimpressed scowl, leaning against the wall like he was waiting for a bus. Phoenix didn't like him. Erskine was a light sleeper who had woken at every slight sound during the night in a jumpy manner, only to be comforted that nothing was wrong. It was possible that he had heard the murder, but his husband had told him to turn over and go back to sleep.
"I can tell you one thing." Erskine stated with a smile. "It wasn't supernatural. If it was, it would probably target me."
"Supernatural?" Phoenix asked skeptically.
"You probably think I'm nuts. Maybe I am. Most people think I'm nuts. Anyway, I certainly heard something in the night. Something hitting something meaty. Like someone was beating up a carcass..." He shuddered. "Mario said he'd heard nothing and it might have been a cook...a cook, at three in the morning? I ask you..." He shook his head and kept talking before Phoenix had thought up a reply. "I told him he was stupid, of course. He got really pissy then and told me to go to sleep or he'd make me sleep. Not that that's anything to worry about, we jokingly make little threats all the time, so naturally I laughed in his face and he just hugged me. I really like him, but I swear something awful was going on downstairs. It was kind of frightening, so most of the night I was kind of afraid. I think I woke up a few times in the night for no reason other than fear, y'know? And then waking up and, um, the body...god...I was right and he was wrong though, which is strange. Normally it's the other way around."
Phoenix frowned. This Erskine guy was definitely unhinged. "But you didn't leave your bed in the night?"
"Once or twice, for water or a bathroom break..."
"And that's it?"
"That's it. No blood or bodies or ghosts or murderers down there when I went either. It was clear. I think Lamdon was still alive."
"Langston."
"London."
Again, Phoenix found himself regarding the tan Irishman with a strange expression. "Riiiiight...Listen, Erskine, was it? Erskine, I need you to think seriously for a moment. Did you see anyone else out in the halls? At all?"
"Just the old bag with pink hair. Started yelling to me about how man shall not lie with another man or some stupid shit like that..."
"Well, after a few more questions, you can come ask her to talk to me."
Erskine nodded. "Well, she's a bit of a bitch, fair warning."
"Did Mario leave your side at all during the night?"
A light appeared in the Irishman's bright green eyes as he found himself a perfect opportunity to talk shit about his husband, and Phoenix quickly regretted allowing him to speak.

Petunia was an interesting woman. Full of sympathy for the poor boy. "He reminds me of my son, you see. He was small and cute, and he wanted to be a dancer when he was young..."
"And this young boy dreamed of being an actor." Phoenix mused, noting something down. He didn't believe at this point that Petunia could have murdered Langston. Langston had been bludgeoned to death, and Petunia was elderly, with arms barely strong enough to hold her puppy, Poopsy.
"I'm surprised it was him who was murdered." Petunia stated suddenly.
"What do you mean?"
"I'd expect it to be one of those Irish boys. The two men who are married to each other. Probably the smaller one. People are less likely to attack a bodybuilder, even if they do have huge problems with blood pressure."
"Why them?"
"Because they're two men who are married to each other. That's the exact reason my Morris was..." She trailed off, looking away with a pained expression.
"Is Morris your son?"
"He was."
"I see. Sorry for your loss."
"It was many years ago."
"Was he...your only child?"
"Yes..."
"I see." Phoenix straightened. "Was he talking especially to anyone?"
"That Prosperity man, of course, they're brothers. To you a little, as well. That maid girl, I think she's pregnant, and the blonde lady who's obviously pregnant. She's very boyish and completely unladylike. It's silly."
Phoenix considered saying something, but decided against it. Petunia's prejudices were none of his business. "I see. Were you up at all in the night?"
"No. Well, yes, I had to let Poopsy out to use the bathroom, but otherwise no. That blonde woman with the muscles was up waiting for the bathroom."
"I see. Did you see anything or anyone else?"
"No. I think I saw you at one point, actually, looking out at the rain."
"I tend to have trouble sleeping in rain."
"Would you like me to get the blonde woman?"
"I have a few more questions."
She gave a sigh of disgust. "And I have places to be and things to do!"
"You seem very stressed out, but please, Lady Petunia, if you answer my questions and help me out, I can bring the murderer to justice and assure the safety of the rest of the guests here."
Petunia hesitated before nodding. "I'll tell you anything you need to know. You know that. I can't stand the idea that my baby and I will be in danger."
"I understand."
And yet, there was still so little to learn.

Hannah Kelly was the strangest interview he had ever conducted. He got the same base information from her. Marley had been seen leaving the bar late, and was a good friend of Prince from what she had seen. Randy was with her during the night, trying to help her sleep, and so that was his alibi. She had seen Erskine go into the toilet, Prosperity being sick and Phoenix go downstairs but she had not seen Langston at all. Nobody else, other than Randy, confirmed her story.
Then things turned strange. "And that is all I noticed."
"I see. Are you sure there's nothing more you can tell me?"
"Oh, I can tell you many, many things." Hannah began. "I can tell you I like wearing high heels normally, mental health runs in my family, I'm pretty sure Prosperity wears a colostomy bag, your cochlear implant is fairly recent, I like bunnies and sais and I brush my hair only every other day."
"Okay, okay, I get it, nothing more to say on the murder." Phoenix snapped suddenly. "At least you aren't stressed, I suppose."
"That's always a good thing."
"You're heavily pregnant, after all."
"About halfway."
"You look further than-"
"Twins. We're gonna call them Gene and Aspasia. And we've decorated the bedroom with bunnies!"
"Of course..."
"I've been thinking a lot though..."
"About what?"
"About questions that are difficult to answer..."
"What sort of questions?"
"Like...if pegasi were real, would we have to worry about them dropping poops on us too?"
"Um..."
He ended the interview pretty quick after that.

-----

Phoenix looked at each of the gathered people before him. Prince and Erskine were discussing the supernatural, ghosts and spirits and other things Phoenix wouldn't understand. Petunia was glaring homophobic venom at the tan Irishman. Prosperity looked as though he might vomit. So did Hannah, actually. Everyone else just looked tense and frightened. "Now, ladies and gentlemen of the Happy Trails Holiday House, I have looked over the facts, and I think I have found our murderer." He clapped his hands together, a wide smile on his face, seemingly very happy that he had come to the conclusion he had come to. "I bet you're all wondering who it could be, why they haven't killed anyone since their first victim, why they'd kill the first victim anyway. Or even how I came to this conclusion." With that, he whirled around, pointing his finger at the first person. "Shivani!"
She froze, horrified. "N-no, I...what?"
"A jilted ex lover, no family to fall back on when your relationship fell apart, forced to take jobs anywhere that would take you. You have skills and intelligence that could get you work anywhere, but without qualifications, you're resigned to picking up litter left behind by countless rude foreigners. It can't be a pleasant life. For all we know, during the night, when you finished your rounds, you could have taken an umbrella from the umbrella stand, cornered Langston in the bar when everyone else had gone to bed and beaten him to death. You're a strong girl, and he's small and surprisingly weak for a man even of his size, and then you could have gone up to bed. But, Alka was with you before the last man left the bar, and most of the night. Alka, who did you say was last to bed?"
"Mr Greenway, sir."
He turned to Marley with a smirk. "A young runaway with nothing to lose. Abusive parents, They can cause a bit of violence in their offspring, can they not?"
"N-No..." Marley stammered. "W-well, I suppose so...but I'm not violent."
Prince stood in front of Marley protectively. "Yeah, he'd never do anything to hurt anyone! He's a marshmallow! In fact, he's too shy to even look at someone!"
"But, is he shy or malicious?"
"He's shy!"
"Very well." Phoenix muttered with a sigh. "I'll come back to you. My next suspect, however, is a young man several professed to have seen or heard out of bed that night." He turned to the other side of the room. "Prosperity Dennis."
"What the hell, Phoenix?!" Prosperity snapped. "Are you completely insane?"
"You've always been jealous of Langston. Jealous of his good fortune, his talent and his health."
"This is ridiculous."
"Langston is the one who finished drama school, who wasn't forced to drop out."
"I dropped out by choice!"
"You dropped out because Petronellia begged you to!"
There was a tense silence before Phoenix smirked. Prosperity looked ready to punch his lights out. The detective opened his mouth again. "Everyone always loved Langston. He was shy and sweet and always friendly and always the attractive one and never sick. You only ever got preferential treatment because you developed Cancer when you were, what, fifteen? Then you finally recovered and thought you were about to do what you'd always wanted in life. You went to drama school, made some new friends, got a girlfriend and dropped out to have a child with her. Your brother went to drama school, made some new friends, got a girlfriend and then got offered two roles in stage shows and a major film role. Last year, you were rediagnosed with cancer, this time more aggressive, isn't it? You haven't had a good life, and your little bother, heh, I mean brother, has it so much better than you. I know you're jealous of him."
"I'm jealous of most people who aren't dying." Prosperity muttered. "But I'm close to Stan, I'd never..."
"While wandering during the night, at any point, you could have gone downstairs, seen your brother still in the bar, and snapped. Grabbed the umbrella used to kill the poor victim, had a moment of seeing red, and had beaten the poor dear to death before you even realised what you were doing. You come to your senses and your dear baby brother lies dead at your feet, and you hide the murder weapon away and run back to bed."
Prosperity stared wide-eyed at the detective. "You're crazy."
"My umbrella's gone missing. It's blood covered and hidden somewhere. Any idea where?"
"An umbrella? Hey, if I was going to beat someone to death, I'd do it with a leg of lamb, then I'd cook and eat it."
Everyone stared at Prosperity for a moment before Hannah laughed.
"I've read that story!" She announced loudly, laughing more. Phoenix rounded on her.
"Hannah Kelly, experienced at most forms of combat and can easily kill a man if they threaten her charge. Yet, you're very immature. I don't think you're totally sane."
She stopped laughing, and flashed a dangerous smile. "I'm sane. I just like to play games with weak fools like you."
Erskine smiled. "I like her, she seems dangerous, she knows how to fuck with people."
"Thanks." Hannah answered cheerfully.
Phoenix shook his head. "You're not totally sane either, Mr Allwood."
"No, I've been tortured in the past, it tends to fuck with your brain badly." He smiled as he spoke.
Petunia muttered something about homosexuality and disgusting. Mario stood.
"Ma'am, I understand you are homophobic. Care to discuss why you hate us so much?"
Petunia looked away. "You're just going to get beaten up. It happens to all of your kind. It'll keep going on until all of you are dead."
"And who's going to do that?"
"I don't know, but they are strong, and they won't stop."
"And you agree with them to stay safe?"
Petunia looked up with shock, and Mario gave a kind smile. "We'll be fine. Don't worry about us."
Phoenix, meanwhile, had turned to his next suspect. "You are Aidan Jenkins?"
Jenkins nodded stiffly.
"Aidan Jenkins...you've had a stint in prison, have you not?"
"For a time..."
"For murder."
"No!" Aidan looked offended. "It was manslaughter...an accident. And arson..."
"So I suppose bludgeoning isn't your preferred way to kill."
"No way is my preferred way to kill, I don't want to kill!"
"And yet a body lies here in this building! A body of a selfish brat of a man with no respect! A man any man would be happy to kill!"
Silence fell as Phoenix yelled.
"Go on, tell me, tell me where I might find the weapon!"
"I don't know...under the kitchen sink?"
"No!" Phoenix shrieked, a vein standing out on his forehead. "Are you stupid? I hid the weapon outside, in the pond! It would wash away the blood and look like a broken, abandoned piece of trash!"
The room turned cold. Randy spoke next.
"You hid the weapon? You thought it through and hid it yourself?"
Prince stood, approaching the detective cautiously. "You mean you've been accusing all of us, innocent and frightened men and women, when you killed the guy?"
"He..." Phoenix shuddered. "He ruins everything! He deserved to die!"
"He's my brother." Prosperity stated darkly, standing, hands forming fists.
"He's my boyfriend!" Shivani snapped, also standing. "He's my baby's father and you've killed him!"
Angry faces began to press in around the terrified detective, as finally the suspicion and fear faded into anger and the guests of the small guest house worked together to defeat this corrupted killer.


-----


Characters:
Erskine Allwood, a worker at an aquarium, Irish by birth. He has tan skin, green eyes and brown hair, as well as a faded scar on his forehead. His surname is a compression of his name, Allen, and his husband's, Norwood. Due to an old head injury causing minor brain damage, he speaks with a slight slur to his speech. He stands at 5'9 and is muscular.



Mario Allwood, Erskine's husband of two months. He is a personal trainer at a gym, and a bodybuilder by interest. He has dark skin, dark brown eyes and his black hair is shaved off. He too is Irish by birth and stands at 6'3. Has a bit of a bad temper and can be quite cold towards others.



Petunia Baudelaire, an heiress in her late 50's who looks older than she is. She is described by Erskine in the story, and has a dog named Poopsy. She is homophobic, but primarily attributes this to fear of attack following a fatal homophobic attack on her only son. Country of birth unknown, up to you I suppose.



Hannah Kelly, a bodyguard. Hannah has shoulder-length ash-blonde hair, tan skin and hazel eyes, and is trained to fight and defend others at all cost. At this point, Hannah is on maternity leave. She is the adult version of an old and popular character of mine, Hannah Hart. She is very tall for a woman at almost 6'0. She is American.



Randy Kelly, Hannah's husband and a critically acclaimed author. He stands at 5'8, is overweight and has curly black hair and a matching short beard. He has blue eyes and wears square glasses, and generally wears black and band shirts. He is American and writes violent murder mysteries.



Phoenix Burrira, a detective. Phoenix has long, black hair in a ponytail, is of Japanese descent. He has a cochlear implant hearing aid. He is an old friend of Prosperity's. He is 5'11 and slim. Has some violent tendencies.



Marley Greenway, a young runaway. He is about 15, has dark skin and curly black hair. He is small, about 5'5, and comes from an abusive home. He is friends with Prince, who is very protective over him.



Aidan Jenkins, an ex-convict. Stands at 5'11 and overweight. He has dark brown hair and blue eyes, and his skin is a pasty, pale colour. Convicted of arson and manslaughter, but now he is a rather amicable man.



Alka Papst, the owner of the holiday getaway. She is German by birth and has a distinct accent. She is overweight with auburn hair and blue eyes and rosy cheeks. She is very friendly and protective over her staff. 5'3.



Prince Day, a make-up artist/student with a strong interest in the supernatural. He has mousy brown hair, long enough to hide one side of his face, and dark brown eyes. His skin is slightly tan. He is very protective over Marley.



Langston Dennis, a drama student and murder victim. Small at only 5'1, pale skin, green eyes and red hair. He was close to his elder brother and often a babysitter of his niece. Based off someone I know irl.



Prosperity Dennis, a former classmate of Phoenix's and Langston's older brother. He is somewhat athletic, as much as he can be while ill. He is a dancer patient with messy, dark brown hair, green eyes and pale skin. He is very close to his younger brother and rather protective. Can be bad-tempered. Former drama student who dropped out to have a child. (The mother of the child is no longer alive.) Based off someone I knew irl. 6'2.



Shivani Smith-Duffy, a domestic maid and ex lover of the victim. She has waist-length blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin, and is pregnant. She is average weight and height at 5'5 and can be a bit bratty at times. Based of someone I know irl.

ShibuShion story

It all started with Naruto being called into the Hokage's office in the middle of spring. He was 19, having just come out of the disaster with the moon and his confession to Hinata that almost ended in total heartbreak, and since then he hadn't really been on any big missions. Peace time meant there were less exciting missions to go on in general, it seemed.

Tsunade had stepped down as Hokage a while back, and Kakashi had stepped up to take the role of Lord 6th. That was who awaited him when he entered the office, hands in his pockets, a somewhat bored expression on his face. A glance to his left told him Lee was stood beside him as well. "You wanted to talk to me?" Naruto asked, nodding a greeting to his friend and waiting for his former sensei to look up.
"We've had a mission request. A young woman has requested a bodyguard for the coming month in Takigakure. Strangely, she specified a certain team of shinobi, but the two of you were the only ones we can gather at this time."
"So she requested me?" Naruto asked in a somewhat tired voice. Whenever someone specific was requested, it was bound to be him. The hero of Konoha.
"According to her, you have both guarded her life before. She as such believes you to be trustworthy and the best for the job."
Lee nodded firmly. "We will defend her with our lives!"
It was just as Kakashi tried to tell him he wouldn't quite have to go that far when the woman in question knocked on the door, and Kakashi beckoned her in with a sigh. "This is Shion, from the Land of Demons."
She was definitely recognisable. Naruto could vaguely remember a mission years ago protecting a girl who could predict the deaths of others. She had been rude and depressed, and deathly afraid of her own power. Resigned to the idea that she would be alone, or surrounded by death. She had requested his help at the end with 'passing on her powers to the next priestess', and he had mistakenly accepted. Hopefully she would have forgotten about that, as he sure hadn't.

As she walked in, a slight smile on her face, it was clear things had changed drastically. She was practically glowing like a princess, happy and healthy and with something wonderful in her life, but undeniably nervous. Her blonde hair was still long and tied in a similar style
"Hey Naruto, Lee...is this it? There were two others..."
"I'm afraid Sakura couldn't be here. She's currently out of the village." Kakashi explained. "As for the other shinobi, I am afraid he is no longer with us. These two are, hopefully, available for your mission."
Naruto paused, thinking. He didn't exactly have a set of plans that required him to stay, and he had been craving a decent, adventurous mission. This was bound to be it. As long as he had the time to tell the others he'd be away for a bit of time.
"I'm totally up for it." He decided. Lee nodded firmly.
"Rest assured, you are very safe with us!"
Shion gave them a smile before shaking her head. "Well, I'll have some explaining to do before we set off, obviously, but I'm happy to have your help."
"Explaining?"
"Well," She gestured for the two shinobi to walk with her. It seemed she had already discussed the mission at length with the Hokage. "I'm not the one who needs guarding." She explained after a short walk.
"Eh?" Naruto sped up until they were side by side. "Then who? What happened?"
"I had a vision of death." She explained, though her tone suggested she felt that at least was obvious. "But not my own. Or maybe it was, but I don't recall seeing myself there. It was in Taki. My lover lives there. His usual bodyguards were dead, his throat slashed, blood over the walls and floors. I don't want him to die." Her smile was gone, fear and sorrow weighing heavily on her fair features.
"You have a lover?" Were the first words out of Naruto's mouth, earning him a glare. "Sweet! What's he like? What does he do?"
"Um...is that relevant?"
Lee nodded. "The more we know about him, the better we will be able to protect him."
"Okay...just as well. What do you need to know about him?"
"His name, what he does, where he'll be while we guard him, enemies he may have..."
"And I suppose what he looks like too." Shion mused, nodding. "And a quick rule, he isn't to know you're assigned to protect him. He hates me being protective, and if he knows I had a vision...I haven't exactly told him I can predict death...it hasn't happened for a long time. Not since before I met him, so it's never come up. I thought maybe I wouldn't have to see my own death again, but...this is worse. I don't know what he would do if he found out, but I don't want to risk driving him away."
Naruto frowned. "Hey, if he loves you, surely he wouldn't be driven away by the whole priestess thing."
Lee agreed. "Your ability is part of you, and he likes you, right?"
"Riiiight, but...but I could see him in one of my visions. And he could be like the others, avoiding me to avoid being seen beside me in death...like now...and I'm sure my nature already annoys him. I'm demanding at best. Anyway, that's besides the point, you have your orders, and your orders are to not be seen and to not let him know you are in Taki to guard him. His name is Shibuki, he's the current leader of Takigakure. Kind of timid, scared of birds..."
Naruto interrupted. "Dark hair, kinda skinny, likes kids...?"
The other two looked at him, surprised. Shion nodded. "That...that's right...have you met him before?"
"Yeah, we...well, me and Sakura were his escorts once, like, aaaaaages ago..." He was half-tempted to mention that the village leader had been a coward back then, but decided it wouldn't go down too well. "I know him. I could probably point him out to Lee."
Shion nodded. "I'll accompany you to Takigakure and show you how to get in, and then it's up to you. I saw one of the assailants who killed him in my vision, but the other two stayed in the shadows. There was...a man, dark brown hair, short, about...shorter than I am, definitely. He had brown eyes...and his forehead protector...originally from Sunagakure, but it was slashed. He was wearing red. I think one of them was a woman as well." She stopped and heaved a sigh, looking up to one of the ceiling lights. "I hope that helps. I'll meet you at the village gates tomorrow morning. Half nine." She bid them both a good day before leaving.

When Naruto got home, he was strangely reluctant to tell Hinata he had to go. Almost as though he could sense something in the air that just meant he had to stay. Hinata herself seemed to be in a poor mood. Instead of announcing his mission, he sat beside her on the sofa and gently asked her what was wrong. She seemed somewhat flustered, as though she hadn't realised he was there.
"N-nothing..."
"You sure? You seem kinda..."
"I'm just not feeling too well." She insisted with a somewhat forced smile. "I might go lie down."
He nodded, not convinced. "Okay. I'll go up later. I hope you feel better in the morning." Considering the fact that she was in a bad mood, he decided it would be best not to push the subject. It would most likely upset her. She had been strangely easy to upset lately and the last thing he wanted was to upset her again. "I'm thinking of taking a mission in Takigakure tomorrow, an old friend needs a bodyguard. Actually, I think she wanted four people, so you could sign on for it too..."
The idea seemed to horrify her. "I don't know...I don't know anyone from Takigakure!"
"Well, no, you haven't met them I don't think, but me and Bushy-Brows are going, and so far that's it. We could do with someone clever with us, y'know?"
She smiled at the compliment, but shook her head. "I...I might think about it, I'll see how I feel in the morning."
Part of her wanted to go along, spend time with him and work up the courage to tell him something important.  The other part was scolding herself that even considering a guard mission would be stupid in the state she was in. She would have to war with herself through the night, weigh up the pros and cons and really think about it. Obviously, the cons were going to win, she thought as she scaled the stairs. After all, what was more important than the lives of her family? As that was soon what they would be.

((This is an introduction to an idea I had for Shibuki and Shion with Naruto bodyguarding Shibuki following a vision Shion had, but getting caught several times. I built upon it a little, but not much, and I don't know where it will go, I might write more if people want it to go somewhere, but for now it will remain an introduction to a thought.))

In The Nick Of Time

Gaara was in a bad mood. Scratch that, a foul mood. He had spent an entire week with his brother, which normally he wouldn't mind, only the week was full of advice and conversation that both found rather irritating, and shopping. Gaara hated shopping. Still, it needed to be done in preparation for the evening, which would be filled with meetings and get-togethers of all sorts. And the only thing he needed to bring with him for these meetings, funnily enough, was a small item that he had somehow managed to misplace.
"Any luck?" Kankurou called from the other room as he assisted in searching.
"It isn't here." Gaara insisted.
"How could you lose it?"
"I left it in the desk drawer. Nobody should have access to that drawer."
"Are you absolutely sure you left it in the drawer?"
Kankurou stepped into the room as Gaara paused to think about it. "No." The Kazekage answered eventually. "I'm not sure where I left it, but I thought it was the drawer."
"Well, you'd better remember where you left it fast, or you're pretty screwed for this evening."
"Saying that is not helping." He turned a slow circle, taking in the now messy room around him. He and Kankurou had unsettled a fair few things in their search, and had looked anywhere and everywhere they could in their home. "Clean this up. If you find it while I'm out, call me, and we can arrange for you to hand it over to me before my final meeting." He checked the nearest clock and sighed. "I have to go."
"Clean up the office? By myself?"
"Clean up the house by yourself. No-one else is to know I lost it." He swept out, leaving the elder sibling to splutter an unheeded objection.

Gaara was a little bit late to his first meeting, and apologised sincerely. The meeting itself was primarily focused on economical issues, building plans and the state of the academies. Additionally, Gaara had something he himself needed to discuss with the council members, and naturally there were disagreements. He left the first meeting in a slightly worse mood, and it was around that point that his phone rang. Normally, he didn't carry the blasted thing. It was only ever around and on if he knew he would need to contact someone or someone would need to contact him, and even then the contraption irritated him. The screen stated it was his brother calling him, though.
"Did you find it?" Gaara asked the moment he'd answered.
"Eh, no...I found a plastic ring, I think Temari used to own it, some old magazines from before we were born...that cough sweet I dropped down the sofa a few months ago aaaand...spiders. Lots of spiders. I'm not coming back until there are no spiders."
"...Why did you call?"
"Oh, right. What am I supposed to be getting?"
"For dinner?"
"Yeah, I forgot."
"...Sashimi..."
"Okay...what kind?"
Gaara paused. He was having dinner with Matsuri that evening, and she had at one point mentioned that sashimi was her favourite food, but she hadn't specified what kind.
"I'm not going to know this, ototo, I'm not her boyfriend."
He thought it over, reminding himself of the tastes his girlfriend had. "Sea urchin." He decided eventually.
"Seriously? That has got to be the most disgusting-looking thing in the world. You sure?"
"I'm sure. She likes sea urchins and she likes sashimi."
"And you're sure you'll eat that?" Kankurou asked skeptically.
"I'm sure. Just make sure it's there."
"You can pick it up from me, the house is crawling with spiders, I am not going in there!"
"Kankurou, please, this is important. I can't afford to waste time tonight, I have a lot of places to be."
"Fine, fine, I'll leave it in your office. I'd better get some kind of compensation for being put through the meat grinder though." And he hung up. Gaara heaved a deep sigh. Two more meetings, dinner with Matsuri, and a third meeting. And little time in between, of course. Thankfully, Kankurou had plenty of time to find what had been lost.

Only too soon, the meetings were over and he was heading to his office. This would be his last chance to pick things up, so if Kankurou hadn't found what he needed by this point, he was just a little bit screwed. Alas, as he reached his desk, all that sat there was a box of food and a note.
'Gaara,
Haven't found it yet, but I'll keep looking. If I find it, I'll deliver it to you ASAP. If you want to cancel, you'd best do that now for everyone's sake. Good luck.'
Well, it wasn't the most encouraging of things to read. He would have to cancel, he decided as he grabbed the box and went to leave, or else his date would be interrupted. He would have dinner with Matsuri, a nice evening under the setting sun, and forget about all the little details and things he had lost, and never mind that last meeting. It was slowly becoming irrelevant. He checked his phone and found it was later than he'd thought. He turned to the clock on the wall to double check, and confirmed he was late. Again. The last meeting must have overrun. He set off at a quick walk, making a call, canceling plans that he could no longer take part in, only for the other side to not answer. He tried a few more times as he wandered to Matsuri's home, but by the time he'd arrived, there was still no answer on the phone.

Matsuri, by contrast, answered the door almost immediately. It was almost as though she had been waiting right by the front door. She offered a kind smile, the kind that could evaporate stress in an instant. Before, Gaara had been able to look at Matsuri objectively, as an uninterested party, and say that she was pretty. There had been no affection with the thought, no wish to get to know her or get closer to her, just the plain fact that her features and genetics mixed well and formed a face that was pleasant to look at. And that was without the warm smile that radiated comfort, trust and love. It was a smile that said 'it's okay, I'm here to help' and a smile that made others want to smile. Even back then, it had a slight effect on Gaara. A smile, full of hope despite the pain, and full of understanding for all that had happened before and for what she had been taught. Through the years, they had taught each other and helped each other grow, and over time, Gaara viewed Matsuri's smile with less objective indifference. He noticed the details. The slight blush that seemed to accompany every upturn of her lips, the dimple to the left, the slight crinkling of her nose...it was cute. As they grew closer, affection was able to invade his thoughts, warp them. He was in turn able to see the almost unending affection in her eyes, the trust and attraction and admiration. And now, he almost craved that smile when he saw her, as though her features were more addictive than any drug. Apparently, that was a normal side effect of the kind of love between a man and woman, boyfriend and girlfriend, man and wife, that sort of thing. And her smile had helped to wipe away some of that unholy stress baring down upon his shoulders relentlessly. It almost lost him, embarrassingly enough, before Matsuri reached out and touched his shoulder, bringing him back to earth.
"Gaara?"
"I'm not too late, am I?"
She seemed surprised by this, as though she hadn't noticed he had failed to be punctual, a very rare occurrence as it happened. "No, not at all. don't worry about it! Actually, I'd say it's perfect timing. I just finished talking to Sari. She's just had her twins. Boys, both of them. I bet they're super cute!"
He nodded. Matsuri loved little kids. "The next time you speak to her, give her my congratulations."
"I will." She reached out, took hold of his hand gently, and he closed his fingers around hers obediently. "I can't imagine what it must be like to look after twins, though. Like, when you calm one down, the other might start crying. They'll be really tired." He gave a slight nod as he led her to the edge of the village, up an incline that slowly steepened. He wasn't sure what to say in regards to this conversation. "Have you heard much from Temari-san recently?"
"Not much, no. She's been very busy with Shikadai lately. They're all well, though. We might see them when the new year comes around. It isn't easy to travel with a baby, though."
"Yeah, I wouldn't want to make a big journey with a baby." She paused, glancing around. "Where are we going?"
"Somewhere we've never been together." Vague enough to work, he decided. Hopefully it would sound romantic, or something. Surprisingly enough, she shrugged and didn't press it.

The place they had never been together was a cliff-like structure with a view of some of the village and a little beyond, where sand swirled in a soft wind. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the area in an amber glow, a waterfall of gold. It was a lovely view, and Gaara was sure Matsuri would appreciate it. Judging by the soft gasp beside him and the tightened grip around his hand, he was right.
"Wow! I can see the Northern Oasis from here! It looks like it's glittering!" He looked where she was pointing and smiled. It did. His eyes drifted back to her face for a moment and found her smile had widened to one of adoration. "It's beautiful!"
Gaara sat, opening the box containing their dinner, and after a moment, she sat beside him.
"What did you get?"
"Sea urchin sashimi."
"That's my favourite!"
"I know, I thought I might treat you." He gave her a small smile, and she leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"Thank you." She rested her head against his shoulder. He let his arm sling around her shoulders, keeping her at his side. "This is...really nice...is something up?"
"Can I not just be nice?" He asked in response, frowning slightly.
"Well, it's not that I don't expect you to be nice. It's just it would be hard to top this." She pointed out, pulling away to gesture at the gorgeous landscape. Not to mention, it was obvious to her that Gaara was nervous. She knew him well, after all. They had been together, sort of in a coupley datey way, for three years or so, and she had of course known him as her Sensei and friend for nine or so years. She knew him fairly well.
"Nothing's up." He assured her in his usual, stoic fashion. He turned to watch her in the fading light. The wind picked up a little, blowing her hair back gently, lifting it away from her face as she turned to look at the view again. She had let her hair grow a little in recent years, and it almost reached her shoulders now. He liked to run his fingers through it. It was soft, and smelled of raspberries, and she liked it when he played with her hair. He gave in to instinct, reaching over and winding a section of hair around his finger, and she smiled. The light faded fully and she ate in silence.
"Someone's lighting fires up down there." She stated after a moment, placing her food container to the side. He looked, and indeed, several torches were being lit down below, just outside the village. Illuminating letters written in the sand. Gaara's hand moved from Matsuri's hair to her cheek, gently trying to coax her to turn her head. She did so. "Gaara, that tickles!"
"Sorry, I just...need to talk to you. Need to look at your face, look you in the eye."
"Gaara? Is...is something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. You're beautiful."
"I..." She blushed deeply, averting her eyes as though embarrassed, and tried not to smile too widely. "I'm hardly the prettiest girl in Suna...you...you're perfect."
"You shouldn't compare yourself to others." He scolded gently, caressing her cheek and insisting. "You're beautiful."
She placed her hand over his, keeping it there. "I love you so much."
"I...I love you too."
Seeing that as a good sign, Matsuri leaned in, eyes shut, kissing him, not exactly gentle, but not rough either, wrapping her arms around him tightly and drawing him close. A second later, he had embraced her in return. And then she pulled back, giggling, and he was strangely disappointed by the separation. The lights below caught her eye again. She turned to look below and the message jumped out at her in an instant. Gaara grabbed her arm, trying to turn her back.
"Wait-!"
"Gaara..."
"You're not supposed to-"
"Is that...is that what I think it is?"
As, below them, illuminated by several torches, sat the words 'MARRY ME MATSURI'.
Gaara sighed in defeat. "It is." He took her hand in both of his and she turned back to him, surprise and wonder etched across her face. "You are a very important person to me, Matsuri. I want to keep you close to me as long as I possibly can. You mean a lot to me."
"And you...you want me to...to marry you?" She stuttered. To her, this was like every little fantasy she had had in her youth leaping out of her silly fangirl mind and solidifying before her. She took a deep, shuddering breath before throwing her arms around him. "Yes. Yes! I'll marry you, of course I'll marry you! I love you so, so, so much!"
And then, they both felt something land on their heads, in their hair, on their necks and shoulders and backs. They looked like sakura petals, but were made of paper, and beside them stood a figure. Matsuri blushed, realising her voice would have carried fairly far with a shout that loud. The figure knelt and held out a hand, opening it to show a ring. A beautiful ring with a flower-like design. After the initial shock, Gaara took the ring and slipped it onto Matsuri's finger.
"It's beautiful." She breathed.
"Like you." He mused, glancing down as the message below changed. "An Arabian Jasmine." And with that, he gestured below, to the message.
'SHE SAID YES!'
Her voice certainly had carried, and she found herself laughing as Gaara, curious, looked up to examine the figure that had joined them.

A puppet.

Looked like Kankurou had found it after all. And he almost thought that it went better than the original plan. Maybe. Now, he still had that last meeting. That would likely involve him having to announce his engagement to the council there and then. Still, at least this part of the day had been wonderful, and irritation and stress the likes of which had plagued him most of the week was almost worth that beautiful smile that simply couldn't get any wider. She couldn't be any happier, it was clear. And it was perfect.

Kitsuchi About His Son-In-Law

When I first found out I was ill, I didn't tell anyone. I'd planned to, certainly. I'd planned to break the news to my daughter and her husband gently, and then go on to patch up every difference and make everything much better. Then maybe treat them with the last of my money when I knew I had less than a month remaining. It didn't work out quite like that though. Instead, when I went to visit them and went to tell them I was dying, Kurotsuchi cut across me with an excited face, telling me she was pregnant for the second time. Though I wouldn't make it to the baby's due date (early to mid September, I believe), I found myself just as excited as my dear daughter. I loved my grandson dearly, and I was sure I would love my second grandchild just as if I ever got to meet him or her by some major luck.

That was why I was so high-strung when I heard my daughter had died, also of a serious illness. My granddaughter was delivered by emergency C-section, painfully premature, and I got into a fight with my son-in-law. I wasn't even able to be by my daughter's side when she died, and it crushed me beyond belief. After that point, part of me became determined to form a father-son bond with my son-in-law before I died, though I had a few months to do it. It would be difficult, as I had lashed out at him in a fit of anger once or twice before (although the second time was a complete accident that he blew out of proportion, I had not meant to hit him at all), and I was certain he hated me now. Still, he was family, as Ohnoki had once said, and family mattered more than anything else.

Then I ruined it by letting slip to what might as well have been someone on top of the Kage residence with a loudspeaker linked to every speaker in the entire village that Kurotsuchi had died because she was pregnant. This wasn't too much of a problem, as not many blew that totally out of proportion, but one or two people took that to mean 'it's the husband and/or child's fault she's dead'. Our Tsuchikage was important to everyone as she was. Anyway, as some people did manage to blow it out of proportion, he got angry with me. So the idea of trying to bond with my son-in-law was at the very least put on hold, as he seemed good at holding grudges.

I don't remember when it was exactly. Mid to late June, I think. Thereabouts somewhere. I had my ultimatum, likely two weeks at the most. I'd become too ill to do much, but I had spent every moment I could wandering my streets, parting with memories, and trying to encourage myself to talk to the remains of my family. I hadn't seen them since...the 18th of May, I think. That sounds about right. He hadn't looked that bad then. I caught sight of him here and there though, just in passing, and each time he looked a little more disheveled, a little more tired, a little thinner. He was struggling to cope, that much was obvious, but either his pride was keeping him from requesting help, or his low popularity here was a bigger problem than either of us could have foreseen. I knew four places I could catch him. The play park on the east side, where he often took his son, the graveyard, where he often paid his respects for a brief time when he felt like it, his house, obviously, or the food market.

Iwagakure was quite well known for the food market. Quality sales made from quality ingredients, with more than just our own culture mixed in. Kankurou and his children lived in a high quality flat that sat in the midst of the market streets, so he often had to pass through them to leave or enter his home. He seldom stopped for something to eat there, even if he wanted to, but would sometimes buy his son something to stop the boy complaining. It was probably one of the easiest places to catch him, as he could turn up at any time of the day, and on most days did. So I'd resigned myself to wander around the market and hopefully catch him at around lunch time. A meal time would be an ideal way to spend time with him after all.

When I finally spotted him, he was shuffling back to his flat, clearly in a foul mood as even his son was keeping his distance. He had an empty baby carrier hanging off one arm, and both hands were keeping his daughter to his chest while she cried incessantly. Her voice was little more than a whine, and she was about the size of an average newborn now. At the moment she had red hair, but that was almost certainly going to darken. Tanto, my grandson, had been born blond, but now his hair was dark as the night sky.
"Kankurou!" I called. He didn't seem to notice, so I called again, but it wasn't until Tanto pulled his arm that he noticed someone had wanted his attention. Then he was polite enough to wait for me to catch up, but didn't bother wiping the tired scowl from his face. Tanto stared for a moment before charging at me hard enough to almost bowl me over.
"Grandpa Kitsuchi! It's been ages!" I made do with just placing a hand on his head as he embraced me.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I've been busy." I glanced up, and Kankurou had turned his attentions to the task of calming the wailing infant in his arms. He looked very uncomfortable, physically and socially, and god, the bags under his eyes..."How are you holding up?" I tried, mentally preparing myself for a snap. Instead, he gave me a lazy glance and a half-shrug.
"Fine, I suppose." He mumbled against his daughter's head. "Bit rushed off my feet...you?"
"I'm...I'm fine." I offered a smile. He did not return it. "I remember being a single father myself...sometimes I was so busy I forgot to eat." I forced a chuckle and his eyes went to the ground. This felt awkward. "Speaking of which, would you like to go grab some lunch? Spend some time...as a family." I was almost afraid to say 'father and son'. I saw him as a son now, though it had taken years of disapproval to do as such, and I'd never let him know of my acceptance. It was unlikely he had grown to see me as a father while convinced I hated him.
He forced a smile and shook his head. "Ah, no, thank you. I've just eaten."
Liar. I thought. I was pretty sure Tanto was giving him a strange look as well.
He gave his stomach a pat to help make his point. "I'm pretty full, I had a big lunch. Maybe some other time." His stomach responded by betraying his lie with a long, loud growl. I heard my grandson laugh and a slight tinge of red crept onto my son's cheeks.
"Sounds to me like you've skipped lunch." I pointed out, scratching the back of my head nervously as I gazed down at him. Kankurou was a fairly big man at almost 5'9, but even so he only just came up to my shoulders. I bit back the thought that he appeared to have skipped several other meals that week as well. No need to embarrass him further when he had already made it clear he didn't want to spend time with me. Still, now I was concerned. I reached out, resting my hand on his shoulder, and that earned me a proper glare. I smiled. "You sound famished, Kankurou. Come on, we've never really had  a proper...anything, really. Besides, it's about high time I met my granddaughter."
That drew a smile from him. An actual smile. Thank god, I thought he'd lost the ability to do that for a moment. It quickly turned apologetic though. "I have to feed her though...she's hungry."
"You didn't bring anything for that out with you?"
"I only expected to be out for a few minutes." He admitted with a nervous chuckle. "So I ought to get back..."
"You can feed her and come back out." I tried. I was somewhat worried that this would be my last chance to do this, and I was planning on going back to my original plan, of spending the last of my money treating them. Even if all that treat was was a meal and a few trinkets (as, upon falling ill and losing my daughter, I had been content to let funds dwindle and drain away, so I probably couldn't do anything massive).
"Come on, otou-san!" Tanto interjected, still clinging to me resolutely. "It's been forever since we saw Grandpa for good reasons!"
All semblance of sensible argument against the offer disappeared at this plea and Kankurou gave a tired nod. "I'll be a couple of minutes, you two can wait in the entranceway." Leaving me with Tanto was good. It meant he wasn't going to disappear into his flat and ditch.

Tanto was a lot more energetic than his father. At least he had been eating and sleeping well, and was clearly excited, though he probably wouldn't eat at the restaurant, as he had had a tub of food from the market when I had first spotted the trio. He'd now finished and thrown the tub away, and had proceeded to wipe his mouth and hands on pretty much anything, including me. I didn't mind. He could do whatever he wanted for all I cared, as long as he was happy today. He was standing on chairs and shouting, and trying to convince me to give him a piggyback ride. I refused, unfortunately, but my illness had taken its toll on my body so I wasn't quite sure I could manage.

When Kankurou came back, it was with a bag slung over his shoulder, and his daughter still screaming up a storm. The two of us walked in silence, letting the children make plenty of noise for the both of us, and it was more comfortable to have Tanto do the talking, though the crying quickly got on my nerves. He was trying his best to calm her, though, and couldn't ascertain what the problem might be. During this time, I got a good look at him as his attentions were almost constantly elsewhere. He had lost a considerable amount of weight, his shirt, a black cotton night shirt, beginning to hang off his frame, which was quickly changing from muscular to scrawny. I doubt he had changed that top from the first time he had slept in it either. Definitely not since the last time his daughter ejected some kind of bodily fluid onto it. The ensemble carried the smell of vomit, sour milk, stale urine and armpit. He had gone much paler than before as well. The overall effect was of some poor victim of some brutal kidnapping who had been locked up in an extremely cramped space for the past month or so. And even if he wasn't filthy, pale and skinny, it would be obvious to most that he was struggling. Anyone who frequented the market, as I did, would see him sometimes staring at a stall or two with such longing that it took every ounce of self control not to buy everything on offer for him. The dark bruises under his eyes were another giveaway (as well as pretty much the only colour on his face), as was, from what I had heard, falling asleep on benches at the park almost every time he took his son there. Tanto had also managed to let slip the little fact that his lunch had been bought with money found dropped in the gutter that day.

Generally, the boy was seen as an outsider by the Hidden Stone. Few here liked him, if only because they never took the time to talk to him and get to know him before their Tsuchikage died. There had been lots of nasty talk when he had come to live in Iwagakure as well, ridiculous things about the pull he would have on the relationship between Iwa and Suna, and rumours about why the wedding had been done in secret, although the simple answer to that was it was a shotgun wedding that would have otherwise been delayed by politics. I admit their reluctance to involve politics and councils under the circumstances seemed fair to me. Even so, it had the councils angry and the villagers asking questions and spreading ill will. This all culminated in Kankurou being the centre of some rather poor attention. He had one or two friends here, but last I had seen them with him, the woman had been trying to use his recent bereavement as an excuse to get into his pants, and the man had been too shy to so much as look at him. Not the most helpful or reassuring duo to have around. The kind of person that would make you wish you were alone, actually. Frankly, even if he wasn't stubborn as a mule, he would likely feel he had no-one in Iwa he could go to for support. He had a brother and a sister in the lands of Wind and Fire respectively, but they were a long way away.

I was snapped out of my thoughts, first by my son-in-law letting out a low groan, and then by him snapping "Tanto, let go of my arm! I'm trying to use it!"
I glanced down and found the 7-year-old tugging at his father's arm, which Kankurou had indeed been using to try and support the baby's head. I gently pulled the boy away. "Tanto, your father needs both his arms to hold your sister, okay?"
"But-"
"You can hold my hand if you want. And he didn't mean to shout, he's just stressed."
"...I know...I can hold his arm if he stumbles again though or else he might fall down."
Kankurou took offence to that, somewhat humourously. "I tripped, Tanto, I didn't stumble."
"You almost fell on your face."
"Yes, because  some stupid cat decided to dart under my feet like it wanted to test the whole nine lives thing. Stupid homicidal kamikaze cat..."
I chuckled. "I swear all the cats in this village are set to kill us. I've had that happen to me too, and then of course the owner tells me off for scaring their precious baby."
"Their 'precious babies' are generally demons." We both laughed about that before entering the restaurant. He hesitated at first, though I'm not entirely sure why. Perhaps it was the smell of the food or that the doorman had already wrinkled his nose at the smell of the filthy shirt, or that many tables were taken by people I was sure hated him anyway. Not that any of them paid us any heed until we walked past them. Perhaps I should have insisted he change his shirt before we set off.

We sat at a table tucked away in the corner, away from prying eyes that might make things even mildly uncomfortable. I saw Kankurou go to fish into his pocket, so I spoke. "Don't worry about eating cheap, this is entirely on me. My treat."
He arched an eyebrow, once again his face showing a look of offence. "Eating cheap?" He asked in a none too pleased tone.
"You're on a budget, aren't you? You can't be employed again already, especially not with a baby on your hip." I could have used more tact, I suppose, but I got it dead on and he gave a nod.
"Yeah, but I'll get back on things soon enough."
If I was correct, Kankurou hadn't done any work other than that of what would be commonly referred to as a house wife since moving to Iwa. He had traveled to Suna with Kurotsuchi once for a summit, but that was because she had been heavily pregnant at the time and refused to go anywhere without her husband and they had both had a bodyguard each that time. As well as three medic nin. Quite a convoy to say the least.
"Can I hold her?" I asked, nodding to the baby, who had finally started to calm down. He seemed a little surprised, almost as though he'd forgotten that I'd wanted to meet her. Gently, he passed her over.
"Careful, she's delicate." I held her to my chest, and her eyes trailed back to her father, her loyalties already set in stone. She loved him. It was obvious, and very sweet. She had Kurotsuchi's eyes and nose, almost the opposite of her elder brother, who looked so much like his father it was shocking. Even so, she readily relaxed into my arms, curling into the warmth and settling in almost as though for sleep.
"Her name is Kichona." Kankurou told me calmly, a wide smile exuding pride plastered across his face.
"'Precious'? Really?"
"My sister said the same thing. But look at her, it's the most fitting thing in the world. Except maybe Sensaina. Kichona flows off the tongue more readily though."
I gave a slight nod of agreement, though frankly I'd have gone for something a little less sappy than that. When someone came to take our orders, I calmly returned her to the baby carrier at our feet.

The atmosphere was amicable as we ate. There were scatters of conversation, of things that perhaps we had in common or extended families or things we held dear to us. Then, halfway through, he suddenly asked why I was doing this. And suddenly the atmosphere turned tense.
"What do you mean?" Was this about the fights we'd had in the past?
"I know you. You're my wife's father. I may not know you perfectly, not 100%, but I can tell something's wrong." Ah, his skills in observance hadn't taken any major blow from his exhaustion, I see.
"And you're my daughter's husband...you might as well be my son. You and your children are the last of my family. I care about you all deeply." Tanto gazed up at me in confusion, and Kankurou bit his lip and glared at the tabletop.
"It's serious, isn't it? You're not a sentimental guy, I know that much."
"I can be sentimental when I want!"
"So does your side of this family just have awful genes or what?" He was cracking a joke now. I shook my head. and sighed.
"I'm concerned for you, Kankurou. You're not managing as well as you claim you are."
He looked to me again and heaved a sigh to match my own. "Kitsuchi, I'll get over the struggle. I'm strong. You know I'm strong. You...you wouldn't be acting like this if you didn't think you had a chance of making it out the other side."
"I just want to patch things up."
His eyes widened. "Oh gods, you're dying!" I heard cutlery drop and suddenly the table was silent. I didn't look at either of them.
"I first saw you as a punk and a brat. You were strange, a foreign entity the likes of which I'd never experienced. If I couldn't understand you, you were a danger. I was protective and you were a frivolous brat who, from what I'd heard, had a string of failed week-long romances. I thought you were just going to hurt my little girl and I'd have to pick up the pieces. Turns out you were a marshmallow in a tough guy facade."
He pulled a face. "I am not a marshmallow."
"You're strangely domestic though."
"Only when absolutely necessary. Like when little brats need caring for."
Tanto made an indignant sound at that, but there was affection there. I smiled and shook my head again. "A little over seven years ago, almost eight, I gained a son."
"'Whether you like it or not', as Lord Third said." His smile faded quickly as he appeared to think things over. "But now I'm losing you, just as you actually do something nice." There was a slight laugh in his words, but one of bitterness. "My only adult family in Iwa...three people gone in two months." He clicked his fingers to represent Kurotsuchi and Ohnoki's deaths. They had occurred very close together, I had to admit. I'd expected Ohnoki's death to be a bigger blow to Tanto though, as they'd spent plenty of time together. They'd liked one another's company.
"Kankurou-"
"How long have you known?" The bitterness was gone. Now it just sounded...morbidly curious.
"I found out a couple of days before you guys announced Kichona was coming."
Kankurou paused, clicking his fingers again and pointing, gesturing for his son to come to him. It was only then that I realised my grandson was crying.
"I don't want you to die." The little boy whimpered into his father's shirt. Kankurou calmly ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to comfort him. I had no idea what to say to him, and by the looks of it, neither did he, so we sat in silence, waiting for the young boy to calm down before the next question was asked.
"How long before...?"
"End of the fortnight at the latest, supposedly." I badly wanted to go back to the amicable atmosphere from before. I hated this now. It was so far from what I had wanted, but then how was I ever supposed to make the announcement of my impending death okay?
"You left it pretty damn late to say anything..." His voice was soft. Shocked. "If you'd said something before...well, I'd probably have been less of an arsehole, I can say that much."
"I somehow doubt that with all the stress you've been under."
"I can dream though."
"I've had trouble finding the time, the place, the words...even when I had it planned, you tried to duck out, remember?"
He gave an embarrassed smile. "Ah, yeah, sorry about that." He left his mouth open as he tried to fumble for an excuse other than 'I'm pretty sure you hate me as much as I hate you', but eventually just shrugged. "It is good to catch up though, I'll admit that. Tanto!" The shout took me by surprise. I really needed to pay more attention. The seven-year-old had grabbed his father's drink, and I'm quite sure it was alcoholic. As Kankurou scolded him, I turned my attention to Kichona, who had been awoken by the shouting and was fretting. I nudged the baby carrier with my foot, rocking her in an attempt to soothe her. I didn't want to look at them.
"Kitsuchi." I made myself look, and next I knew I was being drawn into a hug. "You're damn calm about this." My son-in-law scolded with a smirk. "But you're the only one I'll get to say goodbye to, so it'd better be a damn good one."
I laughed. I don't know why. Maybe because it was awkward having him pressed up against me. But I willingly made a deal of sorts to keep things surprisingly positive. I wanted them to have good memories of me, after all.

And good memories I gave, at least I hope.

Birthday Prezzle for Marty

If there was one thing I hated, it was summer. Hot, boiling summers where it became far too hot to wear my jumper. Well, that and tight, clingy clothes. Those were all for show and never for comfort. Why put yourself through that just to pull?

Anyway, it was a hot summer, and wearing my jumper had caused me to faint once before, so my dad (who I barely saw growing up because he kind of died) was being quite firm on this, even though I'm an adult and can think for myself. I had resigned to staying the rest of the day indoors as a result, away from prying eyes, because I hate to admit it, but I'm kind of embarrassed by my body. Or rather, parts of my body. However, my brother, Tokageroh (I could tell it was him because he spoke in a far softer way than Mitsuki), insisted I come outside with the others, even trying to use 'Katsuhiko's there' as an enticer. Finally, I got sick of his bugging and told him I'd be out in a minute. Though meek, that boy can be pretty stubborn. He was probably just too awkward to go by himself.

He led me on a half-hour journey to a river leading to a lake, where the girls were gathered, trying various ways to keep off the heat. I crossed my arms to cover my chest and kept my head down. Boys, as a rule, tended to feign interest or stare at girls like me. Girls who are, as some say, well endowed, although that is not a good thing in any case if you ask me. That was probably a big reason Tokageroh was so interested in Takara-san. It couldn't be because of her personality or other looks, or her fanatical devotion to some cult she believed her father to have been in.

Though I had a similar body shape, I lacked the oozing confidence Takara-san has, where she can gladly make an example of herself with a laugh and a smile, and barely wear anything in the summer. Unfortunately, I also lack the resistance against the elements Majomiko-san possesses, because she isn't human any more, and so to cover up that wooden chassis, she wore a heavy-looking kimono. Being meek was unbecoming of me though, and was bound to gain even more stares, because I wasn't like shy and sweet Shizuka. Maybe I could play it off as not feeling well.

I glanced up, trying to figure out where everyone was. Shizuka had fixed me with a look of concern, but nobody else was looking in my direction, which was a relief. I went over to her, because I wasn't sure what else to do, and gave her a smile. To one side stood Katsuhiko-kun, not really talking to anyone. His hair was wet and his rumpled shirt was unbuttoned (though I could only see him from behind at the moment) and practically sliding off his shoulders. I didn't look long because I hate being stared at myself, instead focusing on assuring Shizuka and Majomiko I was fine. Why I was doing so I would never know. Maybe I liked these people enough to call them friends. Even so, I paid little attention to what they said otherwise.

I can always blame the heat for that. Eventually, I settled myself in the shade as some of the girls went into the water. I wished I had a book to read briefly, or just something to do, and normally I loved the water, but I didn't want to go splashing around fully dressed, especially not while Takara was in there. That clumsy great oaf was bound to knock someone out the way she was going.
"Arigeta!"
I looked over to see Katsuhiko-kun rushing over to me, buttoning up his shirt as he went. Possibly embarrassed about that weird mouth-thing that adorned his chest. I gave him a smile and allowed him to sit beside me.
"Are you okay?" Were the first words out of his mouth. I groaned.
"I'm just comfortable over here."
"I thought you liked being in the water is all."
"It's not as fun when it's crowded." I rested my head on his shoulder, almost on instinct.
"Maybe we could go to the lake." He offered.
"I have nothing to change into."
"Me neither. Besides, it's hot, it won't kill us. It'll probably help."
"You're not going to leave it until I say yes, are you?"
He gave a hum of thought and spoke with a laugh. "Probably not."
I rolled my eyes and stayed cuddled up to him. "But I'm comfy like this." I half-whined, which drew out another laugh.
"You won't be for long. We're in the middle of a heatwave."
"You're the one that took off his shirt."
"Oh, you got a view of that, did you?" He sounded embarrassed.
"Wasn't that bad of a view." I assured him with a slight laugh.
"Must have been looking from behind then." He joked. I felt him start to raise his arm as though to put it round me, but it must have been instinct because after a moment he realised what he was doing and dropped it.
"Let's go swimming." I offered, hoping to alleviate his awkwardness. He brightened instantly.
"Yeah, sure! We can go to the lake a little aways so we don't bump into the girls."
He stood and helped me up, and I found he'd had a bit of a growth spurt recently. We walked side by side, me still with my arms crossed tightly over my chest, him humming away, lost in his own little world by the looks of it. I put my hands in my pocket and just watched him, gazed at that smile. I spared a glance over my shoulder, to the girls, but could not see Tokageroh with them. He'd probably escaped inside, annoyingly. I'd expect that of him now.

Ahead stood a crystal clear pool of water, I couldn't quite gauge how deep, that glittered and shone under the sun. With a sudden burst of confidence, Katsuhiko charged forward and leaped into the water, only to swear and yell it was a lot colder than he had expected. I laughed and stepped in with delicate feet into a point I was sure was shallow. It wasn't deep at all, waist deep at least, which was good. I had taught myself to swim a little in the past, but I wasn't that confident in very deep water still. I liked to have somewhere to put my feet just in case. It was rather cold, I had to agree, but so was every unheated body of water when you first get in. He gestured for me to come to the middle, and I obliged, wading out until my foot caught on something and I was pitched forward.

My face never hit the water, however. I heard Katsuhiko curse and felt strong hands close around my arms as he caught me. I glanced up and my eyes met his, and he quickly averted them with a blush.
"S-sorry...are you okay?"
"Yeah, thanks." I took a moment to straighten myself up and patted his cheek, and he made a face. I let my hand linger there a little longer before splashing him full force with as much water as I could. He yelped and reared back before scowling and splashing back.
"No fair, I wasn't ready!" He yelled as he kept on his assault, not once ceasing kicking and throwing water as best he could, and I laughed and kicked back. By the minute, we were absolutely soaked. At least he was right about the water combating the heat quite well.

By the hour, we had tired of our playful water war and retired at the water's edge. Quickly, the heat began to sting our skin once more, and yet I was now in a good mood the heatwave couldn't manage to destroy, and happily laid my head on Katsuhiko's shoulder again. Comfortable. I may have even drifted off, only awoken when I heard the voices of the others approaching. It was at that point that I had to get to my feet and rejoin the group I called my friends. A strange mix, we were, but they still remained the kindest people I'd ever encountered.

Morning Dew

When I was dumped outside the orphanage, I was able to walk. I had been found in a basket, in the rain, with blood staining my clothes and bedding. The clan I was born into was one feared in the Land of the Moon for its consumption abilities. A veritable army had killed them, but one man couldn't bring himself to kill a 14-month-old, just slaughtered his parents in front of him.

I grew up around other children, some like me who had never met their parents if their memories served them well. When I was five, a childless couple came and told me to my face I was too ugly and creepy looking to be loved. But that didn't screw me up in the slightest, just made me refuse to look like myself for a very long time.

I was born with white curls and red eyes, you see, but my clan can alter how we look. It might be a form of genjutsu. I don't know how it works, nobody ever taught me, I just felt out the ropes for myself. Turning my hair and eyes blue weirded out some of the other kids though.

I entered and passed the academy at a young age, but mostly taught myself these things. After graduation, I was placed in a three man cell with a sadist with two-tone hair and a short ogre of a man. They hated me and once or twice even threw me right into danger. They long-since decided the best course of action with me would be to throw me to the lions to save their own worthless hides. I don't know if either of them are still alive or not. They were the ones who helped me discover my chakra and life force consumption abilities though. As I said, threw me to the enemy. For a laugh, they said with shaky voices afterwards. It had been in self-defense and I had remained horrified and traumatised for the rest of forever. I'd fought three over-pumped muscleheads from the Hidden Sand and turned them into skeletal masses. Yeesh, and they thought their village had demons. No wonder my clan was murdered.

After that, which had been my chunin exams, I ran from Getsugakure, afraid of the person I was. Also I shaved the right side of my head and decided 'hey, that looks cool, I'll keep doing that and pierce my ears until there's no more room for holes'. The douchebag punk look. Hey, I was, like, twelve.

Then I traveled the world, looking for somewhere I could belong. I didn't find it then, I just found lots of girls I could seduce with a little bit of change to looks and approach. I tried not to kill those I took chakra from, and as a plus even obtained ability to use their chakra nature. I once fought someone who could use a mix of ice, water and boil releases. I'd have liked to have taken his chakra.

I kept this up until I hit 18, 19, somewhere around that point. That was when I set foot in Sunagakure. I'd become reliant on the rush of power that came with consuming someone's chakra and life. It had reached the point where I either had to consume powerful chakra or a lot of it to get the rush I craved. I was addicted. It was a morphine and adrenaline all in one, crushing down the circumstances of the past and giving me the rush I needed to surge forth. And I'd been drawn in by the powerful chakra I sensed on my way through the desert.

Only one problem. It belonged to a man.

Controlled absorption, the kind not initiated in a life or death struggle, I'd only learnt to activate through physically reaching inside my target and pulling vital forces out. I usually did so with my tongue, otherwise they might figure something is very suspicious. Even so, for that to work, I had to get way closer. In other words, the reason I turned to seduction tactics was because I could only retrieve the chakra through a French kiss of all the stupid and pathetic things. At least it was always fun to play with these girls.

So I went for the next best thing, a girl whose body had traces of the man's chakra signature. The object of the Kazekage's affections. Hey, really the guy should be thanking me for targeting the girl. If I hadn't, he wouldn't have accepted his feelings, whereas when he confronted me after a month of being teased about being jealous of me, I was able to trick him into confessing.

Heck, I was practically cupid, and they're married now with, what, four kids? See? I helped him by trying to steal that girl's chakra. He didn't have to squish my leg beyond repair.

Oh, and I learnt why people fear the 5th Kazekage that day. He got my left leg in a lock with his sand and crushed it, but let me live. Maybe that was his thanks for helping him tell the girl he liked her, even if I did try and kill her. I managed to stagger to the border between Wind and Fire before collapsing.

When I awoke, I was in a little holiday house with some adult genin of Kumo. Some giant medical nin in a heavy black coat, all muscle and greasy hair, Shai. Great guy, didn't like me much. A dark-skinned hyper kid I barely saw, Seicho. The most gorgeous woman I'd ever seen, Murasakiiro.

They saw me as I looked naturally, which was embarrassing, but they didn't seem to understand why I wanted to change so much.

Murasakiiro even said I was gorgeous as I was. A girl I never had to use chakra on to get her to like me. It was really weird, but then that's why we ended up married. Funny. I never actually thought I'd settle down somewhere. I thought I'd spend my entire life wandering around, being a menace to every society in the world. I liked it that way, actually, but I happily went with this gorgeous girl to Kumo where everything was weird. Actually, Kumogakure was a gorgeous land. If I had to settle somewhere, I'm glad it was there. Still, I hated the idea of settling there.

It was a Monday morning when she made a worrying announcement. I was bored. I'd been bored for a week now as things were being sorted out concerning my checkered past. Then she came bursting into the bedroom, all hot and bothered like she'd just run a marathon.
"Asatsuyu!"
I turned and gave her an indifferent look. "Did something happen? Whatever it was, looks exciting."
"Oh, it's exciting! You'll never believe it!" She ended that sentence with a girlish squeal. I raised an eyebrow, somewhat disgusted by this behaviour.
"Two for one at the higashi place?"
She gave me a blank look before laughing. "You're so silly."
"...Did you get higashi?"
"No, Asatsuyu. I got something more...important."
"Nothing's more important than higashi!" I insisted in a scandalised tone.
"Shut up and listen for a moment."
I obediently shut my trap and gestured for her to continue. She went a little red, embarrassed and shy concerning what was about to happen. What she was about to tell me would be a bombshell that would change my entire life and get me into a whole heap of endless trouble. My ever-continued descent into hell.
"We...I'm...Oh, Asatsuyu! We're going to have a baby!"

I just want it known that pregnant women are terrifying, even if you are a whole ninja rank above them. They demand and whine and scream and run on pure hormonal get it away from me. I used to even hide in the closet for some peace and quiet. Plus side, I discovered a secret room at the back of the closet that led down to the bathroom. That room is important for later.

So I went through seven and a half months of my beloved wife turning into the devil himself, then she went into early labour and went to the midwife without me (I was slowed down by my bad leg, which still had not healed fully. Something about too many bone fragments and now some of them are likely lodged in muscles or nerves or tendons or something stupid like that), and eventually I witnessed the birth of my daughter.

I am not afraid to admit I was horrified to see she had white hair and red eyes like me. Not only am I sure those are both recessive genes, but that likely meant she had my clan abilities. That in turn meant I'd have to teach her to use them and not kill people by accidentally stealing their chakra. I hate responsibility and I've had precious little first-hand contact with little kids. In the orphanage I was mostly kept around kids in my own age range for safety reasons. I was 90% sure I was going to be terrible at this. Still, at least I had the child's mother to work alongside.

Not.

It was, I don't know, three, maybe four months after that that Murasakiiro died.

I awoke in the middle of the night to a strange sound. Strange yet familiar. Like someone hammering into a hunk of meat with a cleaver, accompanied by pained gurgles and grunts. Those of a woman. A woman being murdered and just clinging onto life. A cold ice seized my heart, and barely able to breathe for fear of what I was about to see, I crept out of bed, confirming as I did so that my wife was absent but my daughter still in her cradle. I got to the living room and saw two or three men hacking into her. Her throat, face, stomach, limbs, every single square inch oozing or gushing blood. One eye had already been gouged out. She noticed me with the other, I think. It looked hazy and unseeing. She tried to say something with her last ounce of energy, but the blood in her mouth and throat caused it to come out as an urgent gurgle. I think the essential message was for me to run and take our baby somewhere safe.

Except nowhere would ever really be safe. It turns out these were the same people who slaughtered the rest of my clan, and my exploits around the world had drawn their attention to me. I hated to think how long they'd been tracking me. Panicking, I grabbed the baby roughly from her cradle as the men shouted. They too had noticed me and were now giving chase. I kept thinking this isn't happening, this can't be happening!...But it was. It was happening and it was all too real. I locked myself into the closet, biting my tongue hard to keep from sobbing. Not that it would make any difference. They'd seen me go in there and the baby was now screaming her lungs out. Though I'd killed before, I'd never gotten used to seeing dead bodies, and bloody ones freaked me out. I'd have nightmares for years.

Slowly, I backed my way into the secret room, ensuring I shut the door behind me properly so it was virtually undetectable. The men were trying to break down the first door, and if I wanted to live, I had to keep us both quiet. I desperately tried to shush her, begged her to be silent as the sound of splintering wood and furious screams terrified the both of us. I was crying myself now, the fear that this was my grisly end becoming all too real. I was going to die, I was sure of it, and it was a horrfying and painful thought. They'd torture us both as they did to Murasakiiro, whose only crime was loving me. I...I'd always known I was no good. Creepy, ugly, dangerous monster.

They broke through the first door and I backed away to the ladder leading down to the bathroom closet. I couldn't climb it while carrying an infant, and if I jumped down my right leg was liable to snap. I crouched down and covered my mouth and nose with one hand. My daughter had managed to quiet herself to a whimper, perhaps tired. I heard the men arguing about where I might have gone, heard them searching for a seam, jostling to all fit in the closet, one hitting the hidden door in frustration. I was having to suppress my absorption abilities. If I lost control, I'd kill the baby as well.

Footsteps receded. I was beginning to think I'd gotten away with it, I'd given them the slip, but then someone charged the hidden door, slamming it open. I shrieked and, panicking, tried to charge past him. His colleagues had gone to look elsewhere, it seemed. I shoulder-barged my way past, only the man had already started swinging his weapon - a morning star I think - and it slammed down on my head. I was a head and shoulders shorter than the man, so I guess it wasn't a difficult target. The world pitched sideways and I hit the floor, mind quickly hazing over. Cursing, I tried to get my limbs to move, lift me back up. Every breath I took was accompanied by another swing, another scream of pain. I doubled over, protecting my baby's body with my own at all cost.

Finally, my mind connected to my body and my leg swung out and up, catching the attacker's knee against the doorframe. There was a satisfying crunch and he screamed. This gave me an opening to scramble to my feet (easier said than done, as every movement sent shoots of pure agony through my entire upper body, and every breath made the room pulse in and out of focus) and escape. I paused to grab the morning star and reluctantly bring it down on the man's head. It was self defense, I told myself with a shudder as I staggered to the stairs, only to see shadows moving below. A wave of nausea and dizziness almost brought me to my knees again. Panicking, I went to the living room as quick as I could. The area below that window would have a canopy to catch me and nearby ledges to escape through. I leaped over my wife's body, smashed the window with my foot (getting glass in there in the process, oops) and escaped out, speeding to the edge of the village, out as far as I could until I reached a thin woodland. Here, my legs gave out and I dropped like a sack of potatoes. I had the sense to place my baby girl out of the way before emptying my guts on the grassy floor and succumbing to the dark circles at the edge of my vision that had been threatening to pull me into the sweet embrace of a poor man's sleep.

I must have been out for hours. When I awoke, it was a late afternoon and my daughter was crying. Likely hungry, thirsty or in need of changing. Just sitting up straight was painful enough to almost knock me out again, and my mouth felt dry as cardboard. A few things were clear to me even in my addled state. I needed a doctor and I needed to find a village, and soon. Once more, I forced myself to my feet, making a slow, lurching journey to who knows where.

From that moment on, we were hunted left, right and centre. I was constantly running yet again, only this time with a baby on my back. I raised her with no home, no money and no hope, but still managed to get her to seven years old. I did my best to teach her about the world, but couldn't tell her why we were always moving, why she never had any friends, why she had to comfort her own father after his ever present night terrors...

She was a beautiful girl though. Her hair curled as mine once did, and when she was three I gifted her a ribbon I'd found so she could accessorise. It became a precious thing to us both in time.

When we met Eien-sama, she was about five. He was about 11 years my junior, but had never been so brutally injured as I had. He saved our lives when our hunters located us one day, and offered a home in return for us serving him. A safe place with food and water and warm bedding. With a sad child hanging on my arm, a girl who wanted nothing more than that, I couldn't refuse. I pledged my allegiance to this kid in return for the safety and happiness of my precious daughter. I went on infiltration and espionage missions for him, and then one day, two years later, he needed someone with my clan's abilities to be a body double.

A body double for a seven year old girl from the Hidden Stone. I refused  at first, not wanting my precious baby anywhere near danger, but then he threatened to throw us both out...

And insisted she would come to no harm.

Her role would be that of the young, sweet, innocent daughter of the 4th Tsuchikage. A little girl with a dead leg like mine, dark brown ringlet curls and dark eyes. We worked to turn her into the perfect body double before some kid, Touwata or something stupid, took her in the dead of night to make the switch and kidnap the little girl from Iwa. She looked so proud of herself as she left.

A week later, Touwata returned with the struggling little girl of the 4th. Eien-sama started running experiments on her, something about a powerful bloodline limit running in her family. It sounded painful, and I did my best not to hear.

Some time later, I heard the daughter of the 4th had been assassinated. Except it wasn't the 4th's daughter, it was mine. Once again, that grip of ice returned, that inability to breathe for all the emotions filling my chest and crushing my lungs. I never saw her body, but that was just as well. Just hearing the news crushed me, shattered my heart into a million pieces.

With all of them gone, everyone who ever cared, there was no longer a reason to live, apart from maybe revenge. That night, I'd grabbed a sword, I believe it belonged to one of Eien-sama's other underlings. I crept to his room and made my attempt on his life, desperate and angry. I didn't even think to use my clan abilities, I just slashed out wildly. The death of my wife had broken me already, and the death of my daughter pushed me far over the edges of sanity.

This man...this kid had some strange powers himself. He had great speed and strength, and was capable of strengthening his skin to an almost iron material. He could detach limbs and control tendrils of what appeared to be thick, wiry hair. I couldn't defeat him. I was weak.

He pinned my hands to the wall and before I knew it, he was holding a sort of spear. He drove it through my belly and through the wall, pinning me there with a wave of agony. Instantly, I felt chakra surge through. Whatever the hell this spear was, it was keeping me alive, but in pain. At least my body would eventually get used to it. In the meantime, I was coughing up blood, choking on the mashing of my own internal organs. Eien-sama laughed cheerfully.
"Hurts, doesn't it? This is what you get for double-crossing me."
"You...krghled......hurr..." It was so hard to speak.
"Pardon?"
"My...drr...ter..."
"Ah, I see. You're mad at me because your worthless waste of a life child got herself killed on a mission."
I lashed out weakly with one arm. Though I hit, I caused no damage. He laughed again.
"Don't like me saying things like that?" He kicked my knee hard, but I barely registered it over the increasing pain in my gut. Why was it getting worse?! I vomited, the pain overriding every instinct in my mind as I started to scream and cry, empty my bladder and bowels and writhe around, trying to get free. Such attempts only jogged the bar, tearing my flesh. "What we have here is a weapon formed from research into the kekkei genkai of the Kinzokuhaku clan." He explained. My brain vaguely pulled a file, recognising the name as that of Shai, Murasakiiro's former team mate. "It won't hurt forever, just as long as I'm angry. It's linked to my emotions. Anger means pain for those who betray us. Your child died a pointless and pathetic death in her sleep at the hands of a man who sensed something amiss. She deserved what she got, and you deserve what you get. I'll send someone round to care for you and sustain you, though the most you'll be able to eat is a teaspoon of mush."
"P-please..." I managed, trying to beg for my life. He walked off and left me. I wouldn't get a decent conversation for another year, when two experiments escape and free me.

A worthless, pained failure. I spent every waking moment in there wishing I could just die and join my family. My clan was extinct, I had no purpose other than to be this twisted young man's plaything. A decoration. Worse than being hunted. I became one of his experiments.

My name was Asatsuyu. It meant 'morning dew'. I started full of hope and love and excitement for the life that awaited me, and I stand here now, weak and worthless. Yearning for my past and youth to return so I could undo the many mistakes I made. Wish I could hold my beautiful baby girl one last time before I died...

I still hold that ribbon I gave her in my bony hand, held forever in an iron grip, as something unbearably precious to me.