Chapter 1: Of Weakness
HELLO!
Well, this is my first fanfic that I'm publishing. It's KankuroxHinata. It's a kind of short chapter, but I'm just working my way up.
Disclaimer: despite what I'd LIKE, I don't own Naruto. It belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.
By the way, I welcome constructive criticism. I'd like to make this better if possible.
ON WITH THE STORY!
Kankurō was not a fan of weaknesses. It probably had something to do with the fact that as the Kazekage's first-born son, he'd had no room to allow himself leisurely activities. From age four, Kankurō was taught that killing was something he would always have to do. He slept with a kunai under his pillow and defended himself. Anything about him that was considered to be weak was scrutinized intensively and dealt with brutally. He shivered when he remembered getting beaten horribly for asking for something as so simple as a bandage for a small scrape on his knee.
Kankurō's weaknesses were hidden by him. Fear of being hurt? He became a long-distanced fighter; using puppetry and poisoned blades. Fear of his brother, Gaara? He stopped trying to be an older brother, distancing himself from his family to the point that the three siblings were nothing more than familiar strangers. Fear of his father? He simply avoided him, picking his sensei Baki to be his father figure. Fear of being recognized for having fears? He became a skeptic of anything he considered to be weak.
He was, therefore, a skeptic of a small, dark-haired girl who was sitting two rows from him during the Chūnin examinations. One look at her, one notice of a deep blush plaguing her unusually pale cheeks and nervousness crossing her beautiful large eyes, and Kankurō automatically thought that she was a weakling.
And he didn't even know her name.
Of course, Kankurō found her name to be inconsequential. He doubted that he would see her again, after that first exam. She was meek and fragile. A delicate flower that had no business amongst the field of weeds that was the world of shinobi. Kankurō considered himself to be amongst the ugliest weeds of them all, after his siblings and his father. The things that he'd done in the fourteen years of life were inexcusable by any means of his imagination.
He was proven wrong. She made it through the second exam. Scratched and bruised; but whole.
Kankurō found his eyes drawn to her short frame, watching her push her index fingers together in the shy, childlike form. She hunched forwards slightly; bunching up her shoulders. Obviously a subconscious form of protection on her part, Kankurō knew that. Everything about her seemed to scream fear and weaknesses. He could break her like a toothpick; crush her like a bug. He almost hated her enough to do it.
He had no idea why he hated her, though. And Kankurō wasn't one to hate needlessly. It wasn't that he didn't have enough hatred to go around; he had plenty. But he wasn't one to act without reason, except when he wanted to show off in a fight but even then it was to make the opposition feel inferior to his skills.
He might not be a fan of weakness, but he wasn't one to fully hate it either.
He watched her as she viewed the exams, almost against his will. She didn't even realize that he was staring at her the entire time, choosing not to pay matches more attention than necessary. Despite his looks, Kankurō was very intelligent in the area of information-gathering, and mentally he sized up every person to the exactness of their strength. But he wasn't sizing her up, he was simply watching her. They way she reacted. The way she fidgeted. It was enticing and, beyond that, exciting. He wasn't sure if it were his blatant hatred for her or for his lack of experiences with the female gender that was doing these things to him.
"Pay attention," growled Gaara. Kankurō knew better than to ignore the twelve-year-old murderer besides him. Despite their blood relation, Kankurō feared the sand-wielding shinobi. Gaara hated him for reasons that Kankurō didn't really know or understand. He remembered trying to be there for him as a child, though it was hard due to the fact that his father would restrain him and Temari from being in the same area of the household as the boy.
"Sure," replied Kankurō, turning his attention to the screen at the conclusion of the fight. The Uzumaki kid, the blonde one; I guess he won against the seven-level dog kid, thought Kankurō, that makes him a seventh level or more. Maybe on the same level as that blue-shirted kid; the one Gaara's got his eye on… He watched the dog boy get carried off by medical nin before noticing the movement of the girl. He watched her move close to the dog boy, offering a tub. He raised an eyebrow. She makes… medicine? Why is she not training to become a medical ninja instead…? She's far too gentle…
He had his answer within the next moment. The board announced the next match to be Hyūga Hinata versus Hyūga Neji.