'How did he…?'
Dosu's lone eye widened beneath the bandages, disbelief flashing across his features. The sand that had so effortlessly wormed its way into his gauntlet felt like a death sentence, but instead of crushing him where he stood, Gaara had… let him be?
'Was he always this forgiving?' Dosu thought, a cold shiver crawling up his spine. His chest tightened as he realized that Gaara's voice, his tone, his presence, they were not the same as the monster-like rumors whispered in the shadows.
'His attitude… it's different...'
Gaara, however, no longer seemed concerned with him. He shifted his gaze away, turning his back slightly, eyes drawn once more to the sight of the village glowing faintly in the distance.
Lanterns flickered, laughter echoed faintly up the streets, and to Gaara it all looked like fragments of a world he was still trying to grasp.
His voice carried calmly, yet it held an unmistakable weight.
"Fight Temari in a fair match."
The words were neither request nor suggestion, they were an order, simple and absolute.
"If you defeat her…" Gaara continued, his eyes narrowing as if measuring something only he could see, "…you might get to battle against Sasuke."
The mention of Sasuke stirred something in Dosu. He clenched his fists, the urge to scoff rising, but when his gaze returned to Gaara, the stillness around the boy's form strangled his pride. Sand drifted lazily at Gaara's feet, a silent reminder of how easily it could claim his life.
Dosu exhaled sharply through his nose. "…Hmph. I'll remember this."
He turned, his cloak swaying against the night air as he leapt away from the rooftop. His departure was brisk, but the unease lingered as Gaara's presence pressed into his back even as he vanished into the darkness.
Gaara did not watch him leave. His expression was distant, pensive, as though Dosu had never even been there. His eyes stayed fixed on the lantern-lit village below, reflecting an emotion strange and new, a longing to understand, to belong.
------
The night air hung heavy, damp with mist that coiled between the rooftops of the village. The moon bled pale light across the tiles, but on the top of building not far away, two figures stood cloaked in secrecy.
Kabuto's glasses caught a faint glint of that moonlight as he pushed them up the bridge of his nose, his gaze fixed on the red-haired boy who had just vanished from sight. His lips curled into the faintest smile.
"Amazing…" Kabuto's voice was hushed, tinged with genuine admiration. "He has changed. To disable Dosu in an instant… and yet, he shows restraint."
Baki, standing beside him, gave a low grunt. His expression was carved with unease.
"Mm…" He agreed reluctantly, his one visible eye narrowing.
Kabuto tilted his head, that faint smile widening into something sharper. "Though… I must admit…"
His tone soured, almost like a child denied a toy. "I wish he had killed Dosu."
Baki shot him a look, taken aback.
"…But… is it really all right?" Baki's voice dipped lower, almost incredulous. "He's a Sound ninja."
Kabuto waved his hand lazily, as though brushing away something trivial. His expression grew flat, clinical. "It's all right. Dosu has long since served his purpose. To me, he was nothing more than a guinea pig… or something disposable."
The coldness in his words sent a brief chill through the air.
Baki's jaw tightened, but he remained silent. His role was not to question. And so the two men stood in the dim corner of the street, exchanging shadows and schemes beneath the cover of the night.
At that very moment, another shadow clung to the edge of the building nearby. Hidden in silence, crouched low, was Gekkou Hayate. The sickly proctor's breath rattled faintly in his chest as his eyes widened, absorbing every word.
'Why… is he with the Sand ninja?' Hayate thought, his throat tightening as sweat slid down his cheek. His instincts screamed danger, yet he couldn't tear his gaze away.
Below, Kabuto reached into his cloak and produced a tightly bound scroll. Its wax seal gleamed faintly as he extended it towards Baki.
Baki's eyes flickered between Kabuto's hand and the object within it. His palm hesitated, hovering, before he accepted it, the weight of conspiracy sinking into his grip.
"This," Kabuto said, his voice low and deliberate, "is the carryout plan from Sound."
Baki clenched the scroll, his face hardening. His eyes darted once more at Kabuto, sharp as blades.
"If they discover that you're having a secret meeting with me here…" His voice cracked like a whip, filled with urgency. "…the plan to destroy the Leaf Village will be for naught!"
Up above, Hayate's heart lurched.
'WHAT?!' His mind screamed, every nerve ignited with alarm. 'Destroy… the Leaf Village?!'
His grip on the edge of the roof tightened, his entire body trembling as the weight of their words crushed down on him. He dared not move, dared not breathe too loud, for the very next second could mean his death.
The shadows grew heavier around them, as if the village itself was holding its breath.
Kabuto turned toward Baki, his voice calm but laced with a sharp undertone. "If you guys are going to fail, we'll back off immediately..."
Baki's brow twitched, but his tone remained steady.
"This plan was originally posed by the Sound, so—" He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. His eyes narrowed, gaze turning sharp as a kunai. "That Sand… is invisible until the last moment."
Baki's words were firm, resolute. "This is the will of the Kazekage."
'Hidden in the shadows,' Hayate's heart sank. 'So it really is the Kazekage's will… this is bigger than I thought!'
Clenching his jaw, he turned silently to retreat and report. 'I must inform Hokage-sama!'
But before he could vanish into the night, his body collided with something.
"!!"
The impact sent Hayate stumbling backward, his sandals scraping against the ground. His breath caught in his throat as he looked up, his pupils dilated, his lips trembling.
A figure stood in the dim moonlight, casting a long, menacing shadow across the rooftop.
"...Gaara."
The boy's expression was devoid of emotion, his pale blue-green eyes as lifeless as still water. With an eerie calmness, Gaara clasped his hands together.
The sand that always lingered at his feet rose in a sudden surge, wrapping around Hayate's limbs like serpents. His mouth was instantly covered, sealing any cry for help.
"Mmphh—!"
Hayate's body stiffened as the cold, grainy grip tightened around him. He struggled, but the sand only constricted further, grinding against his skin like a vice. His chest heaved rapidly, his nostrils flaring as heavy breaths escaped.
Then, Gaara lowered himself, both palms pressing firmly against the rooftop tiles.
The sand around Hayate shuddered, then pulled him down, dragging his body downwards. The ground cracked and shifted as the earth seemed to open up, swallowing him alive. His eyes bulged in horror, wide with disbelief. His muffled gasps filled the air, growing weaker as the sand smothered his movements.
Gaara's gaze never wavered, watching as if this was nothing more than routine.
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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