Grasping at the Sky

Bonus Chapter: Held

She was woken by the rather unmistakable sound of something crashing to the ground – metallic, heavy, and probably not breakable, one could hope – followed straight away by the muffled sound of a shout. Kira twitched, blinking slowly as the fog lifted from her mind. As it did most days, her eyes focused on the large oak desk adorned with stacks of papers, a desk lamp, a clock, and a rather large baby cactus that probably needed a bigger pot at this point. Behind it, closed curtains let in a crack of light that shot across the room and over the covers. Even with them pulled, she intuitively knew it was later than normal. Glancing to the side where her alarm clock should have woken her, she found it off. Frowning, she sat up and looked to her right only to have her suspicions confirmed when she found it empty.

"He let me sleep in again," she murmured, half annoyed, half touched as she rubbed at her eyes, still shocked that somehow despite all her training Gaara still managed to get out of bed, get dressed, and leave the room without waking her up. Her. The bodyguard who was trained to wake up at the smallest out of place sound. Kira was fairly sure he did something with his sand because every once in a while, she'd find some in her hair.

Sighing, she stood, brushed hair from her face and walked over to the window, pulling the currents open. Glancing at the small clock on the desk she confirmed that yes, it was an hour past when she normally got up. She wasn't sure why she was surprised; he did this every time she had a mission away from the village that day. Hadn't she always been the one worried about him getting enough sleep? Now she only had two hours before it was time to leave.

"Stubborn," she grumbled under her breath.

Turning back around Kira made her way towards the door, finally picking out on the sounds of raised voice once again as she opened it

"-eriously Kankuro? Why are you blaming me for this?" Temari snapped.

"Because you're the one that dropped it!" the younger sibling snapped right back. Kira stared down the hall with a tiny smile, the tingles of amusement dancing across her sleepy mind. She couldn't see them from where she was, only the back half of the living room and from the sound of it, they were in the kitchen. It seemed everyone but the Kazekage was getting a late start. "Ug, I can't wait till you move to The Leaf, your nagging gets worse by the day."

"What was that!"

On and on they went. It didn't happen much these days, but when it did, Kira certainly heard about it – and not in the 'this happened earlier' sense. Today was case and point. Rolling her eyes, she moved down the hall, past Kankuro's and Temari's room to her own and turned on the light, door shutting behind her. Her bed greeted her on the far side of the room, perfectly made and undisturbed as it had been the last three days. It wasn't like she didn't use it – she saw its colorful sheets several times a week. Mostly. Sometimes. It really depended. But once certain things had fallen into place – and really, she fell asleep on his bed a lot anyway while on watch duty – it became more of a comfort to both Gaara and herself. His late work nights were normally a cause to her slinking back to her own room.

Kira dressed, applied face paint, redid her hair, and tied her headband to her waist in record time. The only thing that really took time was her switching out prosthetics and doing morning maintenance on her combat leg – some of the screws got loose when she wasn't using it do to the lack of pressure – and in the two and a half years since she'd gotten the prosthetic, it had become an easy task, much like simply doing her hair or wrapping her hands. She paused as she finished the last screw, raising it onto her chair for easier reach, running her free hand down the front of the smooth black finish. It wasn't the same leg Kankuro had originally given her back then as he'd often upgraded it or given her a completely new one about four times since then. It was his never-ending project. He told her it could always get better.