"Hearts rebuilt from hope resurrect dreams killed by hate."
― Aberjhani, The River of Winged Dreams

(Gaara)

When Gaara hears raised voices coming back to the house, he expects Shin to be lecturing Sai, or perhaps for the two to be arguing.

What he doesn't expect is for Sai to be squirming on Shin's shoulder, cheeks flushed as he curses and giggles in equal measure, the emotions on his face the most genuine they've been in all the time Gaara's known him.

The real change is apparent is Shin though. Gone is the stern, commanding face. Instead, it's softened into a fond smile as he teases Sai. His posture is relaxed, open, even. His eyes are shining, and he looks overjoyed, as he'd rediscovered something he thought he'd never get back.

Gaara turns to watches his brother for a moment, and knows without a doubt that Kankuro is the reason this happened. He's standing off to the side, leaning casually against a wall, looking for all the world as though he was a mere observer, as any true puppeteer would, save for the glint in his eyes that proves he knows more he is letting on.

The brunet catches the stare his brother is leveling him with, and raises an eyebrow in silent question.

Gaara shakes his head. Later.

Just then, Shin interrupts their silent conversation.

"Um-Gaara-san—" Gaara sees the full brunt of Shin's change at that moment. The commanding, sly demeanor he'd always falls away to a shy uncertainty.

"Just Gaara is fine," the redhead says, feeling inexplicably awkward at the thought of someone like Shin calling him so respectfully.

"I-I just wanted to thank you."

Gaara searches his mind for anything he'd done that would cause this reaction and comes up blank.

"For helping Sai," Shin adds when he notices Gaara's confusion.

"Helping Sai- Oh you mean when you were acting like a—" Gaara searches for an ending to that sentence that isn't obscenely rude. "Um—"

"A thick-headed idiot?" Shin supplies.

"Yes," Gaara says, and then immediately backtracks. "Wait-no-"

Sai laughs, bright and clear. "It's ok. Everyone knows that nii-san's not the smartest. He's not even the best-looking, and he doesn't have many skills-"

"Oi," Shin places a hand lightly on Sai's head. Gaara winces in empathy. A noogie is imminent. "You're supposed to say something nice, now."

"I am?" Sai asks, all innocence. "okay, okay," he huffs as Shin's hand tightens ever so slightly. "Despite my brother's massive- some would even say sickening faults, he has me, so those faults can be forgiven." There's a deeper meaning in Sai's teasing words that no-one has missed, one that causes the glint to sharpen in Kankuro's eyes, as he throws Shin a knowing look. Shin doesn't even notice, though; his eyes are fixed completely on his younger brother.

"You're right," he finally replies after a long stretch of silence. "I do have you. And there's nothing better than having a little brother … to clean. Kankuro was just telling me about all the chores you two will be doing to make up for your little accidents."

Sai goes from flattered to horrified in about two seconds flat.

"What- that's not- nii-san," he whines.

Shin smiles. "You better get to it, ototo."

"Or what?" Sai challenges.

Shin thinks for a moment. "Kankuro'll do the cooking for the rest of the week."

Gaara's never run to the house so fast in his life.

(Kankuro)

"So," the elder brunet asks conversationally, "how did you know that they'd broken the vase?"

Shin snorts. "I didn't. But I figured they had to have broken something." Despite his casual words, he has an anxious glint in his eyes. The darker part of Kankuro revels in it, but blaming for Shin for something he never wanted to do- something he desperately fought against is the equivalent of holding Gaara accountable for Shukaku's deeds, he knows.

"You understand if I don't trust you." It's not a question, because although Shin's faults were not by any choice of his, Kankuro will take no chances with Gaara's safety.

"I'd be surprised if you were," Shin replies, running a hand through his hair. "I don't even trust me."

Illogically, this response disperses Kankuro's doubts more than anything Shin's ever said. He inclines his head in acknowledgement, and then winces as he hears a thud- and then a guilty silence.

Kankuro rolls his eyes, heading into the house to assess the damage, yet again. He pauses in the doorway, and turns to face Shin, who lurks outside, looking uncertain.

"Are you coming?" He asks, deliberately inflectionless. "I'm not cleaning up their mess alone."

The tension relaxes from Shin's body in a single movement. "Yes," he breathes, obviously relieved.

"Thank you," he manages as Kankuro turns back.

Kankuro smirks. "Don't say that until you've seen the mess."

He's not kidding, either.

Later that night, Kankuro seals both a carefully-rendered sketch of Shin's seal, and a folder into his second-most guarded scroll. Before he does, though, he skims through the folder again.

He's read through it twice already, but the same paragraph jumps out at him, even though it's seared into his mind so thoroughly he doesn't think he'll ever forget.

Teams of two- tested for their compatibility, both on and off the field- were found to have the best results. In accordance with this, we began using training methods that utilized their combined talents, instead of the individual style we had been emphasizing earlier. The results were encouraging, to say the least.

Our most successful subjects are D9.3 and E1.15. However, due to concerns of overfamiliarity-and consequently weakness- we have placed a control seal on D9.3. E1.15 should comply, once his 'brother' orders it.

Of course, the end goal of this project is to eliminate all emotion and weakness. Therefore, the weaker of the two shinobi will be killed, by his 'brother.'

The document goes on to detail many cases in which the method has lead to 'success.' It also factors in 'failure' rates, complete with truly horrific pictures.

Kankuro looks at the document again, and reaches out for a vial of dark purple liquid, which he then pours over the document.

The substance spreads quickly throughout the pages, eating at them.

About thirty seconds later, the report is gone, and all that is left is a slight stain on the carpet.

Kankuro sighs in relief, and then turns to the other horrific report in his room.

"No rest for the weary, jaa?" Despite his sarcastic tone, there is a slight smile on his face. After all, according to his research, this idea shouldn't cause a string of corpses in its wake.

In theory, anyway.

(And if the prospect of personal danger makes Kankuro's grin that much fiercer. Well.

Who has to know?)

Thanks for reading!