Title Prove
Author Uozumi
Genre General/Mild-Angst
Rating PG
Disclaimer I do not own nor claim to own this. The characters,
ect...contained within are not my property. This is an act of fandom and I do
not make a profit from this endeavor. I also do not own the song contained
within, it is property of its respective owner(s).
Summary The middle child immerses himself with arcane arts. Every
morning he wakes and prepares, marking himself as a warrior in a class long
forgotten. He thinks that through the makeup and through the ancient puppeteer
style, he can make up for his body build and others preconceptions. Kankuro
fic.
Prove
The middle child immerses himself with arcane arts. Every morning he wakes and prepares, marking himself as a warrior in a class long forgotten. He thinks that through the makeup and through the ancient puppeteer style, he can make up for his body build and others preconceptions.
The middle child was the quietest of the three of the Sand. The youngest would ask questions and the oldest did most of the talking of all of them combined. Sometimes people wondered if the middle one could talk, and he would always say something to hopefully make them shut up and go away. He had always been the pudgy one too. The other children at the ninja academy in Suna would tease him. He could never become a ninja in his shape. So the boy tried hard to be lithe and toned like his classmates, but he was always the short pudgy one no matter how hard he tried.
So the boy with the brown hair spoke with his teacher who agreed with the other children. He wasn't fit enough to be a ninja. He needed to drop pounds and tone up. Yet, the boy's body seemed to be working against him, but he kept trying. He had to become a ninja; otherwise he would end up with a boring job selling something in the market district. He didn't want to end up bored for the rest of his life. Not only that, but he was the son of the Kazekage, and his father wouldn't allow disgrace.
In one of the texts, there was an art referenced that caught his eye. The figured in the pictures looked like him and not like the athletic and almost god-like people pictured in the other arts in the book. He began to read and the more he read, the more his decision was made. He would become a puppeteer. Like the other ninja, they needed to be nimble, capable, and have all the necessary skills as well, but they had to have a sharp mind and near-complete chakra control. They did not worry about Taijutsu or other jutsus that required a thin body, but utilized the mind and chakra along with basic skills of stealth.
There were different kinds of puppeteers. The modern ones concentrated on making puppets from corpses or other means, but there was a sect long ago that focused on the creation of puppets from elements. There was a more hands on technique to it and it talked about how the puppet and the master were almost like one being since the puppet carried the more of the same chakra as the puppeteer unlike a puppet that had once been human. The sect dated back centuries, a conclave of monks with rituals and markings. The child began to research them and soon began to practice their art. He made his own puppet, naming it Karasu and began to practice with it. His classmates still poked fun at his weight and his height, but he didn't listen anymore. He had found a solution; he had found a way to fight without making his body do something unnatural.
The first day he appeared to his family with the face paint on, he received the reactions he expected. Gaara said nothing but watched his every move and Temari stared, almost dropping her glass. There had been questions from the oldest and the loudest. He left most of his answers vague. He knew that enraged his sister, but he didn't feel like explaining it all to her. The reasons and history were too boring and too long to tell anyone. It was one of those subjects that one would want to know more about to truly listen to it all.
He tests himself. At first self-evaluation was hard. He could overly critical or sometimes wondering if he had been too soft on himself. As he practiced and understood himself, the self-evaluation because easier and he improved greatly. He learned to use Karasu as an extension of his body and then made the leap to practicing controlling people through his strings of chakra. Controlling people were hard at first. His chakra had to blend just right with theirs so that they wouldn't be aware of the strings. Sometimes stealth didn't matter when enemies were cognizant of his puppetry, but most of his work involved stealth and that involved precision.
He enters the tournament outwardly confident. He keeps a distance from his brother who's eyes look like they're plotting. Kankuro tries to ignore it and fight the small seed of self-doubt spreading within himself. He pushes it back and stands at his full height and decides that he will try his best. He will show everyone that he can fight in his own way without being skinny and thin and look like those pictures in their text books. He and Karasu are ready for this.
The End
