𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄'𝐒 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐑 | gaara

Part 11

Gaara sat at his desk that morning, going through his usual load of paperwork. There was a knock at his door, and a huffing patrol guard stumbled in, catching him by surprise. Gaara looked up at him, face as calm and collected as ever as he waited for whatever news he had brought with him.

"Lord Kazekage! We've received word... the squad of men sent to [Surname]-san's home to aid with the moving of her belongings... haven't checked in as per standard procedure..." He managed to catch his breath, and straightened himself up before a now frowning Gaara. "They were meant to have checked in ten minutes ago, but..."

"Meaning?" The guard shook his head.

"We're unsure, Lord Kazekage. But we've sent over a couple of guards over to [Surname]-san's house to see if anything went wrong or whether this is merely an incident of them just forgetting to check in." Gaara's brow furrowed in disbelief. This surely couldn't have been an accident. All Sand shinobi were trained in strict conduct; one simply did not "forget" to check in under instruction from their superiors.

"Make it fast. I want a report as soon as you get there."

"Right!"

*

As soon as [Name] and the movers went outside, I fled out the door to go for a walk to clear my head a bit. Okay, so what if she was right. Okay, maybe I did only like Shinji because he's the first boyfriend I've had that's managed to put up with me and my attitude for more than two weeks. Okay, so what if I don't really like the Kazekage that much. Okay, so what if I actually did like the Kazekage before he rejected me when we were kids. No big deal, right?

I sighed as I strolled around a park down the road from our house, and took a seat on a park bench. I held my head in my hands, trying to pull myself together.

When I was about six, I developed a crush on the kid everyone was scared of. The one with the red hair, the dark eyes, the inscription on his forehead. Gaara. Sure, everyone was scared of him, but I wasn't, and I made that loud and clear. But he didn't even know my name. He didn't even look at me. So I tried my best, in everything. Came first in class, graduated ahead of everyone, made a name for myself as a prodigy kunoichi of the Sand. And the more I tried to get his attention as casually as I could, the more resentment I felt towards him.

Well, by the time I was eight, I full out hated this Gaara and joined the other villagers in ridiculing him, wanting to make him suffer for not returning my one sided love and affection. Pretty childish, huh?

Yeah. [Name] is definitely the more mature one here.

After about ten minutes, I made up my resolve to go home and apologise to [Name], and hopefully clear things up for her about where we stand. So what, I'd liked Gaara for a long time. So what, my younger sister was hitting it off with him when it could've been me. So what. I'm not eight anymore, for crying out loud.

I got home and I had barely set foot through the front door when I heard people behind me, and immediately spun around, pulling a kunai from my sleeve. I'm met by two patrol guards, both looking just as alert as I was.

"Where is Risa-sama?" exclaimed one head on. I was confused for a split second, resisting the urge to say "Right here!" but then I remembered that I wasn't not Risa anymore. 

Wow. Not being able to use your name anymore sucks.

"Um..." I did the math in my head. Ten minutes. What could [Name] do in ten minutes? Did she and the movers use a transportation jutsu for her bigger things? Would they still be in her room?

"Well... either they're getting things from her room, on the way to the Kazekage's house or on their way back," I said, unsure of what they'd be up to. "Why?"

"These men that escorted her, what did they look like?" asked the other one quickly. I frowned as I tried to remember.

"Um... I remember one was blonde... one had his face covered in bandages.... one had a mask..." I tapped my cheek as I thought back. "Oh yeah, and they were all named after directions. That's all I can remember." The two guards exchanged worried looks, and I narrowed my eyes at them.

"What's wrong? I swear, if something's wrong-" One of the men cut me off with a forced cheery smile and a wave of his hands.

"Oh no, it's no big deal! It's just... we've never heard of those men before."

I was about to stab somebody.

"WHAT?!"