The days continued to pass amid sweat and windblown sand. Like a precision instrument, Shira followed the schedule he had set for himself: morning training, school, work at Chiyo's, and extra training late into the night.
But the anxiety in his heart never subsided. Rasa's absurd "weapon-testing logic" was like a sword hanging over Gaara's head, and it threatened Shira himself at all times.
He had to do something. He couldn't sit and wait for the more extreme tests that could come at any time.
Confront Rasa directly? That would be suicide. He needed a "mouthpiece," someone who could convey his ideas to the Kazekage under a different identity and in a different way.
His gaze turned once more to Chiyo's unassuming courtyard.
One afternoon, after helping Chiyo sort through a newly arrived batch of medicinal herbs, Shira didn't leave right away.
He watched Chiyo adjust an old but well-maintained medical puppet, then spoke with feigned casualness, asking in a child's curious tone:
"Granny, would you say controlling chakra is like kneading dough? If you use too little force, the dough won't rise, but if you use too much, you kill it?"
Chiyo didn't even look up. Her fingers deftly worked the mechanisms inside the puppet as she grunted. "Stupid question. Chakra is energy, and dough is inanimate. How could they be the same? Still, the principle is close enough. Too much is as bad as too little. That much holds true just about anywhere."
A thought stirred in Shira's mind, and he continued playing the curious child. "Then if you wanted to make a, um... really unstable source of chakra behave, shouldn't you avoid provoking it all the time? Like... like..."
He seemed to struggle for an analogy. "Like that old camel beast in the village that's always losing its temper. When you feed it the alfalfa it likes, it's much calmer and more obedient, but whipping it only makes it bellow louder. Is that right?"
Chiyo's hands paused almost imperceptibly. After all the years she had lived, Shira's little scheme was practically transparent to her.
But she didn't expose him. She merely grunted again, her tone betraying neither pleasure nor displeasure. "You know quite a bit for a little brat. Alfalfa? Hmph. That depends on whether it's worthy of eating it."
Shira knew Chiyo was implying something, but he didn't dare pursue the subject and hurriedly steered the conversation back. "I was just thinking out loud. I've noticed that since Gaara started doing physical training with me, he seems to sleep a little more soundly when he goes back tired. And during training in the daytime, his sand isn't as restless as it used to be. Is it because he's tired, so he doesn't have the energy to let his thoughts run wild?"
These were facts he had carefully prepared, which he brought up lightly and as if by accident.
Chiyo finally raised her eyes. Her cloudy gaze rested on him for a while, until Shira began to feel uneasy. Only then did she speak slowly. "Naturally, he's quiet when he's tired. What kind of discovery is that? You brat, are you going around in circles just to tell me there's some use in fooling around with that boy?"
Shira lowered his head, pretending to be embarrassed at having his thoughts seen through. "I just think that if you keep frightening him, wouldn't it be even worse if you really scared him out of his wits? Just like dough that's been kneaded to death, it'll never rise again."
"Hmph, people aren't dough, and weapons aren't camel beasts."
Chiyo lowered her head again and fiddled with her puppet, her tone indifferent. "Rasa will decide for himself how to handle it. It's not your place to worry about it, brat."
Despite those words, she fell silent for a short while afterward and paid Shira no further attention.
Shira knew he could say no more than that. The seed had been planted, but whether it would sprout, and how much it would grow, were beyond his control.
He bowed respectfully, picked up his pay for the day-a packet of spent medicinal herbs and a few pieces of metal that had been picked out-and quietly left.
A few days later, in the Kazekage's Office.
Rasa listened as an Anbu gave a routine report on the surveillance records concerning Gaara and Shira.
"Training continues to consist mainly of basic physical conditioning and simple Taijutsu stances. No abnormal chakra fluctuations. The target Gaara's emotions are stable, and his focus during training has improved. Fatigue after training has increased. Night watch has observed no signs of unusual activity from Shukaku."
Rasa listened expressionlessly, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the desk.
Just then, someone knocked on the office door. Ebizo strolled in at an unhurried pace.
"Rasa." Ebizo gave a slight nod.
"Elder Ebizo, what is it?" Rasa maintained a show of respect for the elder serving as an adviser.
"I just went to see my sister and heard her going on about a few trivial matters," Ebizo said as though making conversation. "Come to think of it, that little fellow called Shira is rather interesting. My sister said that although the boy isn't good at Ninjutsu, he's full of questionable reasoning."
At that, Ebizo looked at Rasa's reaction and continued, "The boy said something about how constantly frightening livestock can scare them out of their wits, and that they'd work better if you fed them their fill. He also said something about kneading dough too hard, and how dead dough won't rise. Heh, it reminded me of some things from when I tamed summoning beasts years ago."
Ebizo's tone was light, as though he really were just sharing an amusing story.
Rasa's fingers stopped tapping on the desk. Why is this old fellow still talking in riddles?
Ebizo continued, "Children do speak their minds, but from what we've observed, the Jinchūriki's condition does seem to have improved since that boy started training with him. At least, compared with the way he used to blow up at the slightest provocation, perhaps we can finally 'save a little fodder'? At least the nights have been much more peaceful, and we old fellows don't have to live in constant fear."
When he finished, he smiled as though he had merely mentioned it in passing, then turned to reporting other inconsequential matters. Before long, he took his leave.
Silence returned to the office.
Rasa sat alone, gazing intently at the report on Gaara on his desk.
"Feeding it fodder, saving a little fodder, dough kneaded to death."
"Emotionally stable, focused on training, and Shukaku hasn't been unusually active."
Ebizo's offhand words formed a curious echo in his mind with the Anbu's cold report.
He didn't care what the brat Shira thought, nor did he entirely trust the inclinations of Chiyo and her brother. But he valued results.
The ceaseless assassination tests had consumed enormous manpower and resources, yet all they had produced was a monster growing increasingly violent and difficult to control. The frequency and risk of Shukaku running wild still hadn't decreased.
And now, merely the companionship of an insignificant brat and a little basic physical training seemed to have produced an unexpected "sedative" effect, at almost no cost.
As a pragmatist, Rasa had to start weighing his options.
He pressed the communicator on his desk.
"Give the order: the adaptation test on the target Gaara, originally scheduled for next week, is postponed. The surveillance level remains unchanged. Pay particular attention to the relationship between fluctuations in his emotions and Shukaku's activity. Report any abnormalities immediately."