My Deepest Sympathies

Izayoi slid a package across the table wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with twine.

Kain stopped it from falling off the side of the well-worn table and raised a brow at the kunoichi casually sitting across from him.

"What is this?" he asked, wondering if he'd missed his own birthday again.

The shape was unusual but it was expertly wrapped. Origami. Tsukinowa must have been involved...

"The conversation we had the other day," Izayoi said with a smirk.

"What conversation?" he fished, handling the strange package with apprehension.

"You were complaining about your job again," she replied. "Open it."

He did so, half expecting a crane to fly out of it.

There was a hard case underneath the wrapping; narrower at one end than the other. Kain flicked open the clasps that held the case shut and a well burnished instrument with delicate strings lay before him in its velvet trappings.

"Izayoi," he began, scratching his head. "What is this?"

Her smile was wolfish. "The world's smallest violin."

0-0—0-0

A/N:

I am the world's evilest fanfic author, obviously. No, this isn't the final battle of WoTC…though the document…is…sort of open-ish on my desk top right now mocking me. Moonclaw and I were talking about Kain the other day, and after a particularly rough string of weeks I was informed that at least I didn't have it as bad as Kain ;)

Poor guy…always left out of things…always getting mind controlled.

Anyway, I totally had this idea of Izayoi throwing him a mock pity party…and of course in my mind they're totally sitting in a bar at one of those tables so smoothed down by age and use that you could slide a pint from one end to the other without batting an eye, lol.

You can thank bronchitis, a sinus infection, and Sudafed for this one ;)