Welcome to Masquerade! Just a short snippet of Kankuro's facade. Hope you enjoy
...and no...I do not in anyway, own Naruto or any of the characters mentioned in this little ol' fic o' mine, and no the song is not mine either...if you recognise it, I don't own it!
Masquerade.
Kankuro gently plastered his aged face with white Kabuki paint. Hiding his true features.
Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade . . .
Masquerade!
Hide your face,
so the world will
never find you!
Lines of Mauve streaked over the now white mask. Lines bold and daring. Hiding his scars and lines. Kankuro wiped the counter, rinsed the brush and walked quietly out the door to his theatre. Glancing at his new design. Tonight he was the Hunter.
Masquerade!
Every face a different shade . . .
Masquerade!
Look around -
there's another
mask behind you!
Puppets lined the walls, awaiting their next act. Kankuro checked every one with care...
Flash of mauve . . .
Splash of puce . . .
Fool and king . . .
Ghoul and goose . . .
Green and black . . .
Queen and priest . . .
Trace of rouge . . .
Face of beast . . .
Young puppeteers watched in awe as the Puppet Master wielded the puppets, spurring them into life. They squinted their eyes but there was no trace. No strings attached.
Faces . . .
Take your turn, take a ride
on the merry-go-round . . .
in an inhuman race . . .
The puppeteers rushed around in excitement...this was after all their very first act. They carefully chose their masks.
Eye of gold . . .
Thigh of blue . . .
True is false . . .
Who is who . . .?
Curl of lip . . .
Swirl of gown . . .
Ace of hearts . . .
Face of clown . . .
The curtain lifted and the audience fell silent in anticipation. Onto the stage wandered a beautiful girl. Who was she? She danced like a flying swan, followed by her golden curls. Only the wielder would know that the girl was nothing more than carved pieces of wood. Manipulated to perfection. A puppet. The lights went out and the music began.
Faces . . .
Drink it in, drink it up,
till you've drowned
in the light . . .
in the sound . . .
A dashing man jumped danced as he spanned the length of the stage before meeting the flaxen haired dancer. They danced. Out there on the hard wood floor. Who were they?
But who can name the face . . .?
The colours swirled and changed as soon as they came. The puppeteers fingers gently moved from side to side, up and down, back and forth.
Masquerade!
Grinning yellows,
spinning reds . . .
Masquerade!
Take your fill -
let the spectacle
astound you!
The audience were captivated in the grace of the dancers movements. Who were they? The two so dearly in love. Were they really puppets?
Masquerade!
Burning glances,
turning heads . . .
Masquerade!
Stop and stare
at the sea of smiles
around you!
Another puppeteer's fingers moved and suddenly a black clad puppet came to life and moved swiftly onto the stage, glaring at the young lovers, he grasped the girls hand. The Prince grew angry and the duel began.
Masquerade!
Seething shadows
breathing lies . . .
Masquerade!
The black clad man fell to the floor, the sword tossed from his hand. It was revealed that the young man was the Princes long lost friend, whom had also loved the beauty and the prince grieves over his death. The blonde beauty mourns. The crowd wiped the falling tears from their eyes.
You can fool
any friend who
ever knew you!
The curtain closed and the audience applauded. You never shout at an act. The curtain reopened and the four puppeteers walked onto the stage and bowed. They removed their masks. The audience clapped in congratulations. The five black clad puppet wielders then turned and raised their arms to the black curtain. Kankuro watched, his heart pounding in his ears. This was his life's work. The audience kept applauding. His students kept looking. He took a breath and walked out onto the stage and into the light. The audience stopped. Silence.
Masquerade!
Leering satyrs,
peering eyes . . .
Masquerade!
Run and hide -
but a face will
still pursue you!
He stood in the light. Yet the audience stood silent.
But who can name the face...?
Kankuro breathed in and glanced at the faces, they waited. Kankuro slowly reached for his mask and peeled it from his face slowly. The audience looked on.
One.
Two.
Five.
The people in the audience began to applaud.
One Hundred.
Two hundred.
Five hundred.
The people in the audience began to stand.
One thousand.
Two thousand.
Five Thousand.
The audience cheered, laughed, cried, shouted their amazement and threw bouquets to the stage.
Through this the realization grew. Through his life Kankuro had looked but did not see. He didn't need the paint. He didn't need the colour. He didn't need the lines. The people knew and yet they still stood, for him, for what he had done for Sunakagure, for what he had taught their children, for who he was, without his facade. And for the first time in 86 years, the puppet masters eyes clouded over and tears slipped down his worn face. He was not a puppet. He was not a mask. He was not a shadow on the wall. He was a man. And he could cry.
He took his last bow.
What a masquerade!
Yay! Happy ending! Hope you enjoyed this! I enjoyed writing it. Please read and review. It is much appreciated! I'll have a Beta reader soon so my stories should start improving!
The song is...surprise! 'Masquerade'. From the 'Phantom of the Opera'. Greatest musical ever! In my opinion anyway.
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