Gentle Re-assurance

The faintest traces of sunlight begin to seep slowly through the half-open curtains of Temari’s bedroom window, caressing your face lightly and drawing you out of a deep sleep. You scrunch your eyelids tighter in a vain attempt to hold onto the last remnants of an already half-forgotten dream. Groaning in annoyance as the morning rays grow longer, you grab your pillow and slam in determinedly over your head, only to be met with an amused snort, coming from somewhere across the room. You push yourself up onto one elbow, letting the pillow fall from your face, and squint in the general direction of the offending sound.

“You still not up?” the voice asks. As your mind slowly moves into awaked-ness, you realize where you are, and the previous night’s events. You knead your fists into your eye sockets, groaning again. Kankuro stands in the doorway, the source of your annoyance. A humored smirk rests on his face at the sight of you, hair frizzled, still tangled up in the covers of Temari’s spare bed, your favorite stuffed raccoon held firmly in one hand. He laughs out loud, and you blink owlishly at him before growling and throwing your pillow, hitting . . .

Temari squarely in the face.

You blink and sit upright. For a moment, Temari just glares at you.

“(Y/n)!!” she fumes. “What was that for?” You blink again, still only half-awake.

“Eh-heh, sorry.” You grin sheepishly, scratching the back of your head. “I was aiming for Kankuro . . .”

Temari spins around and fixes her sibling with a fierce glare.

“And what, pray-tell, are you doing in my room?!” Kankuro shrugs, unperturbed by Temari’s death gaze.

“Just getting (Y/n)-chan for breakfast,” he says, turning to leave. Temari turns back to you and sighs.

Kankuro turns his head to grin wickedly at you. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out in reply. Temari blinks at you, her brow twitching.

“Would you stop that!!”

“But I wasn’t . . .” you start.

“Downstairs! Breakfast!” she exclaims, and spinning on her heal, shoves past Kankuro, disappearing down the hallway. Kankuro laughs again. You let out an exasperated groan and fall backwards onto the bed.

“I’m going to kill you.”

Kankuro just smirks at you before heading toward the kitchens.

You are NOT a morning person.

Not ten minutes later, with a quick brush through your hair, you are entering the kitchen, greeted by the warm scent of eggs, toast, and bacon. Temari and Kankuro sit across from each other, glaring daggers. Gaara is seated at the far end of the table, once again buried in his paperwork. Kankuro looks up from his staring contest with Temari and throws a sneer at you again, taking note of the raccoon doll, still held tightly in your hand.

“Aren’t you a little old for dolls?” he taunts, pointing a finger at the fluffy object. You blush and clutch the stuffed animal close to your chest protectively, frowning at him.

“Look who’s talking,” you shoot back, ignoring any further comment from him and taking a seat close to Gaara, setting your precious raccoon aside. You rest your chin on the table, fighting against already drooping eyelids, as Temari pours you a glass of orange juice and sets a plate of food before you. Grunting in an appreciative manner, you sit up, roll back the sleeves of your pajamas and take a lazy bite out of your toast, leaning your head against your other hand. You were so going back to sleep after this.

Gaara looks up from his paperwork to you, suppressing a smirk. He reaches over and ruffles your hair. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, still chewing on the toast half-heartedly. His smirk slips through and you blush, burying yourself behind your glass of orange juice.

“Hey (Yyyyyy/n),” Kankuro teases. You look up at him, frowning. He grins wickedly at you.

“What? Go away . . . you’re so annoying . . .” He glares at you and you smirk at him in turn. You just won round two.

Unfortunately for you, Kankuro has an ace up his sleeve . . . or rather . . . a fluffy raccoon doll . . .

He lifts the object up in front of you, mercilessly dangling it by it’s tail. Your eyes widen and then narrow as you stand up from the table, slamming your hands down on either side of your plate. Temari jumps and rushes to steady her glass, which was precariously close to tipping over. Gaara looks up at you, then over to Kankuro.

“GIVE IT BACK!” you yell, practically leaping over the table in an attempt to rescue your poor stuffed animal. Kankuro holds the doll over his head, just out of your reach. He laughs at you.

“Kankuro . . .give it back to her,” Gaara says lazily, eyeing him warily. But his order settles upon deaf ears as Kankuro dodges past you, making a break for the kitchen door. You chase after him, half-tripping over the slight rise in the doorway, and follow him full speed down the hallway.

Temari sighs heavily. “As much as I love having her back, things are never quiet while she’s here, that’s for sure . . .” she says quietly, attempting to rub away an already advancing headache. Gaara stands, shoving the various papers into a neat pile. “You’d better stop them,” she continues, poking at her leftover eggs with her chopsticks. “The last time he stole that raccoon you gave her . . .”

“I know,” Gaara interrupts, making his way out the kitchen door, sighing at the various sounds of crashing and breaking things coming from somewhere to the left.

Temari glances around at the now empty room. She groans, her head drooping and brow furrowing in irritation.

“I always have to clean up!!”