This is just a sorta drabble made for Kankuro's birthday. So yeah, this was submitted a bit late for his birthday. But yeah, at 1:33 on May 16th ...but whatever. It was for yesterday, it got written like... yeah. While watching George Lopez..which kinda totally had a different feel then like, this story. But yeah. Reviews are loved. I was kinda busy with other stuff. So don't review too harshly... I don't think the damn thing even follows, but yeah..

Song: Puppet by The Dreaming


Living in your shadow

Crushed underneath your thumb

When he was two. Everything was normal. He was a two year old, clueless to the world's wrongs. The flaws that surrounded him, his mother sang to him. Told him stories, ones he would never remember, but he knew they were told. Songs were sung. Everything was clear. Everything was what it was. Nothing was hidden. Happy birthday.

You've left me pale and hollow

Dreaming of the sun

When he was four. Life had changed. He had been shown pain. He had seen someone he loved slip away, he had stood by the grave of someone he loved, he had watched his mother get lowered into the ground. He had shed tears for someone who gave him life. Happy birthday.

Why must you control me

Breaking me down every day

I gave you my trust

But you threw it all away

When he was nine. The boy started working in the woodshop officially. He had something he was passionate about, something people always seemed to say you needed. To be honest, it was something he needed. Something to believe in. Something that he could depend on when humanity failed on him. For him it was his puppets. Making them dance. Being in control, it was a good thing. Happy birthday.

Set me free if I am just your puppet

Set me free if I am just your puppet on a string

When he was eleven. The training had started, he was drilled daily. His strength was tested and pushed. Endurance was broken and rebuilt. His mind was hardened to emotions that made him a human. The ways of a killer were drilled into him. Being human was an imperfection. Happy birthday.

You tried to make me something

Something I could never be

Stripped me of my freedom

Stripped me of my dignity

When he was fourteen. Him and his siblings were sent on a mission. A mission of betrayal, his sister never liked it. She didn't approve of it. But she was a pawn in the game. Same as he was. Even though he was the son of the Kazekage. He was just a pawn. The three siblings had a job to do. They had a country to destroy. While their father watched and played God. Happy birthday.

And every time I failed you

I'd want to kill myself

Well I am sick of living

Living in your hell

When he was seventeen. It had been a few years since his father was said to be dead. Oddly a day he wished he could have re lived, the day it was announced, and the odd sense that he no longer had someone trying to control his mind, body, and soul. But he was seventeen now. His younger brother had become the Kazekage. He still worked in the shops, his puppets getting more and more complicated. His skill becoming more fine tuned. He learnt how to mix poisons, he knew how to kill in many different ways, he knew it all. Him and his sister made a formidable team. Her iron war fan. His puppet. They would watch the world fall to it's knees. Or he thought they should. Happy birthday.

Set me free if I am just your puppet

Set me free if I am just your puppet

Set me free if I am just your puppet on a string.

When he was twenty. Life had started to repeat it's self. No matter what he wanted to say, or think, it was as if his father was still there. Laughing. Saying he played with dolls even though he was part of the rapidly growing Suna Puppet Corps. He was bored, to be honest. He lived the life of a shinobi, he had no choice in what he did. He was living a life based on the orders of his little brother. He was twenty now. Same age as his sister, he would be the oldest for a matter of weeks. Then he would be in the middle again. His sister with her power of wind. His brother with his unnatural talent with sand. He was the boy who played with dolls no one would ever really notice. They were all puppet, and they danced to the will of the God. He was the only one who had taken control, he played god now. He controlled them, or he pretended to. He was still a puppet, like the rest of them. Happy birthday.

Dead till you'd breathe life into me.

Set me free.

Free

I'm free

Set me free

Set me free

Free.