Chapter 178 The storm is coming

He seemed to have not moved for hours.

Temari couldn't feel his chakra and wasn't even sure if he was breathing.

"Gaara?"

She called his name softly, her voice so soft that it was almost inaudible, but Gaara shuddered violently as if he was pricked by a needle, and all the muscles in his body tensed up.

His eyes opened slowly, the movement not in sync with the muscle contractions in the rest of his body.

Temari suddenly felt like a fool for complaining about not sleeping well.

Gaara's eyes were deep-set turquoise, and his skin was waxy yellow, so thin that the blue veins on his temples were visible, like thin vine roots beneath the wax. He hadn't slept all night.

"Temari?"

Gaara's voice was hoarse and low, and he said her name with a hint of awkwardness, as if he had forgotten how to address her.

Temari swallowed hard, feeling a pang in her heart and a hint of fear coursing through her blood.

"It's me, brother." She said softly, as if responding to his call.

Gaara blinked hard several times, as if trying to erase something from his sight.

It could be an illusion or a will-o'-the-wisp.

"Did I wake you?"

Temari smiled and shook her head, a wave of pity welling up in her heart. Although Gaara's eyes were tired, they were clear and not swallowed by the terrible frenzy.

"No."

She assured him, shoving her hands in her pockets. She shifted her feet slightly, wondering if he was now stable enough to be near him, or even sit next to him. Gaara noticed her movements.

Just when she decided to give up, Gaara raised his head and lowered his legs, leaning forward slightly and resting his head on his knees, as if he was struggling to even support his head.

He didn't laugh. He hadn't laughed for more than ten years.

But his tired eyes revealed a hint of tenderness.

"It's okay, Temari." He said tiredly. "I... I'm fine."

Temari couldn't help but laugh, no matter how hard she tried she couldn't control the upward curve of her lips.

Although Gaara said he was fine, she still approached slowly, not wanting to ruin the rare tranquility with her recklessness. She sat down on the other side of the windowsill and supported herself with her hands.

"So…last night was terrible, huh?"

Gaara's response was more of a grunt of affirmation than an actual word, but that was no problem for Temari, who had been able to understand him since she was a child.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

Gaara shook his head, his reddish-brown hair falling down and covering his eyes as he moved. Temari really wanted to push his hair out of his way.

But it wasn't his fault that she couldn't cross that line.

"Is that Mom?" she asked tentatively.

This time, Gaara nodded.

Temari wasn't sure what the difference was between Ichibi and the "mother" that Gaara mentioned, but she knew there must be a difference.

Well, most of the time.

Sometimes, the two names are interchangeable, and sometimes, Gaara can clearly distinguish between them, and calling the wrong name will immediately make him furious. It's really hard to say.

Temari didn't bother to figure out which one was more brutal and which one was simply crazy; she only knew that they had one thing in common: they both wanted to tear anyone who dared to threaten Gaara into pieces.

Gaara slowly turned to face her, his eyes fixed blankly behind her left ear before slowly focusing.

"Anxiety, anger, jealousy." He spoke word by word, his tone serious and slow, as if each word took a lot of effort to say.

"She has a lot on her mind, and she's deeply troubled." He wiped his face roughly with his rough hands. His nails were jagged and bloody, obviously bitten by himself.

He rubbed his eyes with his palms and said tiredly, "The silence is driving me crazy."

Temari blinked in surprise. Gaara had complained about the noise before, the noises that disturbed his thoughts and kept him awake, and made it difficult for him to suppress the hallucinations and mania deep in his heart.

He had never complained about the quiet before.

"Is it because of the exam?" Temari asked tentatively.

Gaara hesitated, blinked slowly as if thinking, and then shook his head slightly.

“It’s fear.”

Temari suddenly felt a chill down her spine, colder than the sweat on her back.

"She's scared?"

Gaara closed his eyes and hummed softly in agreement.

"Yes."

"What are you afraid of?" she asked, trying to sound calm, her fingers clenched tightly on the wood of the windowsill until her fingertips began to turn white.

Gaara looked at her, his eyes filled with exhaustion and anxiety before closing them completely, his eyelids tightly shut and the skin around his temples wrinkled as if he was concentrating.

“Gold and amber…” he said vaguely. “A hint of rain mixed with the dry wind…where the horizon meets the sky.”

Temari shook her head slightly, trying to comprehend what Gaara meant before he fell silent again.

"Brother, I don't understand..."

"The storm is coming."

The voice came from the other side of the room and Temari turned around to see Kankuro had sat up, looking very awake, with his legs crossed on the futon, watching them alertly.

His hair and paint were messy, and he rubbed his sleepy eyes, but his gaze was still sharp and alert.

"What he said was that a storm was coming."

Temari narrowed her eyes at Gaara, and his eyes finally closed.

"How did you know?" she asked.

Kanjiro turned around, walked to Gaara's feet and squatted, looking at him gently.

"I'm not sure what the first part means, but I've heard the rest before."

Temari frowned, even more confused.

"Where? He never told me any of that."

"It's not Gaara," Kanjuro retorted, "It's Master."

Temari blinked in surprise.

"really?"

Kanjuro nodded and stretched out one arm, resting his elbow on his knee.

"'Where the horizon meets the sky' refers to the kamikaze, or typhoon. It's in that old book of war poetry he read to us before."

Temari did remember that the worn leather bound book had belonged to their master, and he remembered the master reading poetry to them in a low, husky voice during their first mission.

"'The wise beware the wrath of nature, and the breath of her heart, for human power cannot rival the might of that place where heaven and earth meet.'" Temari recited, "Yes, I remember."

Kanjuro nodded again.

“Well, ‘dry wind with a hint of rain’, that was the first way he taught us to tell when the monsoon was coming.”

Temari frowned, mulling over this information.

"A storm is coming, huh? That doesn't sound good."

Kanjuro hummed in agreement.

"Yeah, it's not good."

They sat in silence for a while, quietly guarding this rare tranquility.

Gaara's breathing was even and steady, his crimson hair rising and falling slightly with his breathing.

The light of dawn finally shone through the treetops, through the window, and onto Gaara's face.

"Hey, Temari?" Kanjuro whispered, with a hint of uneasy foreboding in his tone.

Temari snorted in annoyance.

"Worried about the exam? Worried about the war? Or worried about the traitor who's wearing our father's skin?"

Kanjuro laughed nervously.

"all."

Temari patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"There's no point worrying about it now, brother. It's already happened. We'll find a way to fix it."

"I hope you're right, Temari. I really hope so." Kanjuro sighed, reaching out a hand and holding hers tightly. "Because I have a feeling today is going to be a bad day."

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