Gaara goes for a walk
This was written as a post for an RP but I like the way it came out, so I'm posting it here as a little mini-story. Very mini. ;)
Uh, spoilers for the current situation in the Naruto manga in a very general way.
Going for a Walk
It hadn't happened in such a long time it seemed likely that some people - those who were stupid or those with memories shortened by personal ambition, for example - had forgotten what they were actually dealing with.
The girl knelt trembling on the floor of the large chamber, her lovely body hardly obscured by garments made of tissue-thin fabric so fine it was to all intents and purposes, transparent. She'd done a creditable job of making a properly respectful obeisance to the Kazekage and even attempted a smile, unless one looked into her eyes and saw the terror. She was not one of those with short memories. Her voice was soft and pleasing, the tones deferential to the point of self-abnegation as she spoke the lines of a ritual offering, promising healthy sons and daughters to strengthen the Country of Wind and the Village of Sand.
Sons and daughters to a monster.
"No," was all the Kazekage said.
Her father, one of the younger members of the council of elders (and someone whose memory was not as accurate as his daughter's, due to the influence of his desire to advance even further in importance) stepped forward and in a tone he thought well-calculated to be persuasive, began enumerating the reasons why the Kazekage should consider the welfare of the Village and the Country and do what his duty clearly was, by taking a wife and furthering the bloodline of the most important man, and family, of the Sand.
"No," the Kazekage replied.
Coming into the room a little after the scene had started, at least one of those present felt a tingle run down her spine at the flat tone that crept into the single syllable, a tone she hadn't heard in her youngest brother's voice in a while.
The Kazekage followed the word with a simple, unremarkable action.
His hand moved in a gesture, merely dismissing the girl, but she flinched as if struck. It was a slip, and a bad one.
Her father realized the fact and turned his frustration on the girl, grabbing her by the arm, the flimsy fabric of her intended-to-be-enticing outfit tearing with his roughness.
"You disobedient brat!"
The air in the room suddenly cooled and several of the more alert onlookers instinctively moved back but the ambitious man was oblivious. When his daughter burst into tears, he raised his hand and struck her across the face. The sound was loud in the suddenly silent room.
An expression flickered across the features of the Kazekage, features that had shown little expression in the last several years. The expression was displeasure. The next series of events happened almost too quickly for the onlookers to follow.
The councilor had already retracted his arm for a second blow intended to silence the weeping and soon to be hysterical girl. The next moment, it wouldn't move.
Turning to look, he found his arm encased in sand.
His eyes widened, and he suddenly regained his ambition-fogged memory in a rush.
His daughter looked up when the blow didn't fall, and screamed. It didn't matter that she was being protected from being struck. All that mattered was that childhood night terrors had suddenly materialized in front of her. Her eyes darted to the Kazekage and there was no doubt who or what the girl feared. Her face drained of blood and she fainted.
The sudden turmoil in the room was reduced as onlookers were pushed out by guards.
No one said another word to the Kazekage.
The councilor couldn't really stifle the cry when his arm was broken in three places, but he wasn't entirely stupid. When the sand receded, he clutched his arm against his chest.
"Take her home," the Kazekage said. "Don't hurt her. Find her a good husband. You are relieved from being on the council."
A guard assisted the man since he clearly couldn't carry his unconscious daughter with his maimed arm.
There was only one person left in the room afterwards besides the Kazekage.
"Shut up, Temari," Gaara said before she could say anything. Not that she necessarily would have.
He was more comfortable without the robes. The shinobi net shirt and black pants and leg wraps suited him better. The leather shoulder strap was oddly comfortable again. He left a note etched in sand on the wall of his room. Just the medium itself prevented any claims of forgery and also any tampering with the message. It was addressed to his brother and sister, tasking them with the duties of governance in his absence.
'I'm going for a walk.'
'Gaara'
Uh, spoilers for the current situation in the Naruto manga in a very general way.
Going for a Walk
It hadn't happened in such a long time it seemed likely that some people - those who were stupid or those with memories shortened by personal ambition, for example - had forgotten what they were actually dealing with.
The girl knelt trembling on the floor of the large chamber, her lovely body hardly obscured by garments made of tissue-thin fabric so fine it was to all intents and purposes, transparent. She'd done a creditable job of making a properly respectful obeisance to the Kazekage and even attempted a smile, unless one looked into her eyes and saw the terror. She was not one of those with short memories. Her voice was soft and pleasing, the tones deferential to the point of self-abnegation as she spoke the lines of a ritual offering, promising healthy sons and daughters to strengthen the Country of Wind and the Village of Sand.
Sons and daughters to a monster.
"No," was all the Kazekage said.
Her father, one of the younger members of the council of elders (and someone whose memory was not as accurate as his daughter's, due to the influence of his desire to advance even further in importance) stepped forward and in a tone he thought well-calculated to be persuasive, began enumerating the reasons why the Kazekage should consider the welfare of the Village and the Country and do what his duty clearly was, by taking a wife and furthering the bloodline of the most important man, and family, of the Sand.
"No," the Kazekage replied.
Coming into the room a little after the scene had started, at least one of those present felt a tingle run down her spine at the flat tone that crept into the single syllable, a tone she hadn't heard in her youngest brother's voice in a while.
The Kazekage followed the word with a simple, unremarkable action.
His hand moved in a gesture, merely dismissing the girl, but she flinched as if struck. It was a slip, and a bad one.
Her father realized the fact and turned his frustration on the girl, grabbing her by the arm, the flimsy fabric of her intended-to-be-enticing outfit tearing with his roughness.
"You disobedient brat!"
The air in the room suddenly cooled and several of the more alert onlookers instinctively moved back but the ambitious man was oblivious. When his daughter burst into tears, he raised his hand and struck her across the face. The sound was loud in the suddenly silent room.
An expression flickered across the features of the Kazekage, features that had shown little expression in the last several years. The expression was displeasure. The next series of events happened almost too quickly for the onlookers to follow.
The councilor had already retracted his arm for a second blow intended to silence the weeping and soon to be hysterical girl. The next moment, it wouldn't move.
Turning to look, he found his arm encased in sand.
His eyes widened, and he suddenly regained his ambition-fogged memory in a rush.
His daughter looked up when the blow didn't fall, and screamed. It didn't matter that she was being protected from being struck. All that mattered was that childhood night terrors had suddenly materialized in front of her. Her eyes darted to the Kazekage and there was no doubt who or what the girl feared. Her face drained of blood and she fainted.
The sudden turmoil in the room was reduced as onlookers were pushed out by guards.
No one said another word to the Kazekage.
The councilor couldn't really stifle the cry when his arm was broken in three places, but he wasn't entirely stupid. When the sand receded, he clutched his arm against his chest.
"Take her home," the Kazekage said. "Don't hurt her. Find her a good husband. You are relieved from being on the council."
A guard assisted the man since he clearly couldn't carry his unconscious daughter with his maimed arm.
There was only one person left in the room afterwards besides the Kazekage.
"Shut up, Temari," Gaara said before she could say anything. Not that she necessarily would have.
He was more comfortable without the robes. The shinobi net shirt and black pants and leg wraps suited him better. The leather shoulder strap was oddly comfortable again. He left a note etched in sand on the wall of his room. Just the medium itself prevented any claims of forgery and also any tampering with the message. It was addressed to his brother and sister, tasking them with the duties of governance in his absence.
'I'm going for a walk.'
'Gaara'