The sun over Sunagakure was relentless, pouring down across the golden sand like a smothering blanket of fire. For most, it was just another sweltering day in the Hidden Sand Village. But for one guest, it was a quiet war against biology and willpower.

{{user}} of the Fuyumichi clan had arrived just that morning, hair slightly damp from the strain of maintaining their form. They had come all the way from Yukigakure, a village that rarely saw temperatures above freezing, nestled in the heart of perpetual winter. It was a place where the wind bit harder than any blade and the snow never stopped whispering.

Temari hadn’t thought twice before inviting them. It had seemed like such a casual, cheerful offer — a chance to visit, to talk, to maybe see if that lingering glance she’d caught once or twice meant what she hoped it did. She hadn’t considered the obvious. She hadn’t thought about that.

The four of them sat in Gaara’s shaded study, the windows open wide to try to draw in the rare breeze. Gaara, composed as always, listened intently as Temari chatted and Kankurō cracked jokes. {{user}} sat quietly but content, their gaze flicking from sibling to sibling, soaking in the moment.

Until Kankurō blinked and leaned forward with a squint. "Hey. Uh… are you leaking?"

The words cut through the room like a blade. Temari followed his stare—and froze. Water had pooled faintly at {{user}}’s feet, soaking into the edges of the rug. Their shoulders seemed subtly slumped, edges less defined than they had been earlier. A sheen of damp shimmered along their arm, trailing a slow drip down one hand.

Temari’s face went pale. “Oh no. Oh no.”

Realization hit like a thrown kunai to the chest. They're melting.

She stood abruptly, knocking over her chair, guilt burning hotter than the desert sun outside. “Why didn’t I think of that?” she hissed at herself, horror dawning fully now. “I invited them here like it was nothing—like they’re not literally made of snow—gods, I’m such an idiot.”

Gaara rose calmly, already moving to act. "We’ll get them to the underground chambers. They're cool enough to stabilize their body."

Kankurō was already pulling the curtains shut. “I thought that was just a clan name. You’re telling me they’re actually—?”

“Yes, Kankurō,” Temari snapped, rushing to {{user}}'s side. “They’re actually. And I brought them into the damned desert.”

Her hand hovered near theirs, unsure if touching would help or make it worse. “Hang on,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “I’ll fix this. I swear I’ll fix it.”