It had been longer since Gaara had seen Kankuro; he'd been preoccupied with preparations to travel with Temari the week before and had done his usual trick of blocking out everything else. Now he was back, it was as if his sense of himself had extended outwards beyond his skin. People walking past, voices in adjoining rooms, he noticed more and resented more that he had no real place amongst it all. It was always worse after being away from the reactions of Suna. Away from the village, Temari almost treated him normally.

But still, he had promised that he would try. So when he caught the tightening of a fist, a flash of purple and the familiar hiss of a held breath in his periphery, he stopped. Took in the paper, the puppet held ready. Frowned.

"You... have a mission?"