Boo. Here with a new one-shot story, this time from the P.O.V. of good ol' Kankuro. This one is a song-fic, my first one, so you gotta tell me if you like the story and stuff - BTW, I'll be spelling it 'Kankuro' instead of 'Kankurou' because I'm a lazzeh-type and will (probably) swap between them.
Summary: Kankuro has been in a foster home since his mum killed herself when he was 8. It is only now, almost 10 years later, that he realizes how much pain he has been through. AU. Slight hint at KankuKiba and various other yaoi pairings.
Disclaimer: Don't own Kankuro or any other Naruto characters. Kishi owns them. Don't own the song either. Song is 'Emotionless' by Good Charlotte.
Hey dad
I'm writing to you
Not to tell you
That I still hate you
Just to ask you
How you feel
And how we fell apart
How
this fell apart
Kankuro stared at the dull, wooden planks that ran along the underside of his brother's bed, his eyes sub-consciously tracing the natural, brown patterns grown into the wood when it once lived, eating and growing without a care in the world, oblivious to its fate. His hands were beneath his head, fingers intertwined, propping his brunette hair up from his plain, dull white pillow that matched his dull, gray bedspread. The bars of the bunk bed were an old metal, the black paint peeling from age and abuse, perfectly matching the seemingly lifeless gray wallpaper, ripped by the abuse and hatred of many foster children who had slept in this very room, in that very bed, before he and his siblings had arrived.
The blinds were closed, the curtains pulled, blocking out all light from the snowing, winter day outside, making the almost empty room seem haunted. Pulling a hand from underneath his head, he ran a single finger lightly across one of the swirling patterns on the wood, observing the gradual change from a light brown to a darker, wisened brown. Giving a light sigh, he lowered his arm slowly and returned it to its position behind his head with its partner-in-crime. He slowly tilted his head, looking to the side of his bed where a single desk resided, holding nothing more than a pair of small notepads, one belonging to himself, the other to his brother, and a pen. At the very edge of the desk, the only colour in the room, was a simple photo. It wasn't much, only a photo of himself and his siblings with their parents, smiling on vacation at the beach, but it seemed to awaken something inside Kankuro.
Are you happy out there
In this great wide world
Do
you think about your sons
Do you miss your little girl
When
you lay your head down
How do you sleep at night
Do you even
wonder if we're alright
But we're alright
We're alright
Ignoring the various yells from his fellow foster children in the hallway and bedrooms in the house, he pulled himself off his bed. Pulling his school bag from the chair at the desk and chucking it onto his bed, he sat on the seat. He slowly raised a hand, grabbing lightly onto the frame of the photo and lifting, bringing it closer to himself so that he could study it. His eyes flicked from his older sister, Temari, with blond hair like their mother had had before she had killed herself, to his younger brother, Gaara, who shared no likeness to either of their parents, then to himself, a spitting image of his father, the very man he hated and despised, but knew he had grown to be like, the man who had been the cause of his mothers death when he left her with their three kids, when young Gaara was only six years old. For a brief moment that seemed like years, his eyes wandered to his bag which he knew contained a single glass bottle, empty, from earlier that day.
Heaving a heavy sigh, he placed the photo back down to where it had previously sat, then pulled his black note book out from under his brothers red one and flicked through it lazily, ignoring his various notes from class and doodles he had drawn when he was bored. He stopped on a page, covered with scribbled messages and doodles of hate, regret and depression.
It's been a long hard road without you by my side
Why
weren't you there the nights that we cried
You broke my
mother's heart
You broke your children for life
It's not
ok but we're alright
I remember the days you were a hero in my
eyes
But those are just a long lost memory of mine
I spent so
many years
Learning how to survive
Now I'm writing just to
let you know
I'm still alive
Kankuro stared down at the paper, straight at a set of words that seemed to form an address. The script they were written was tidy, unlike everything else, giving it a look of importance. It had been circled, though faintly, and stood out from the various graffitti pieces on the destroyed page. He sat in silence for a few moments, as though contemplating whether he was really going to do this or not. Heaving another sigh, he picked up the lonely pen and flipped through his note book to a clean, unmarked, undented page, the pen resting between his teeth.
As he found a page, he removed the pen from his mouth and stared at the blank page. He had so many things that he wanted to write, but he didn't know how to put it into words. He tapped the pen almost soundlessly against the wood of the desk before pushing pen to paper.
'Hey Dad,' he wrote. 'It's me, Kankuro, your son. You remember me, right? I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't. It has been almost ten years since you walked out on us in our time of need.' He paused, looking up and to the side, right into a mirror that his sister had hung there a few weeks earlier. He looked like he always did: tired, pained, annoyed and angered, all covered up by the strange purple lines that were tattooed into his face, matching the various purple patterns on the rest of his body, accompanied by other, more traditional, tattoos.
The days I spent
So cold, so hungry
Were full of hate
I was so angry
The scars run deep inside
This tattooed
body
There's things I'll take
To my grave
But I'm
ok
I'm ok
Kankuro dropped his gaze again to the paper, his pen working almost by itself, writing whatever came to mind. 'I've always wanted to know why you did it. Why you walked out on us so long ago. Mother... She needed you so badly then. It was our worst year, financially. Even me, at the age of seven, could see that. When you left, she just.. broke down. She locked herself in her room for days and wouldn't come out, not even to feed us.' Kankuro watched as something appeared on the page, not far from his writing. He watched for a moment as it was accompanied by more of it's kind and it wasn't until the fifth or sixth drop that he raised his free hand to his eyes, only to discover he was crying.
He dropped the pen and raised his other hand his eyes, wiping them dry as he remembered the day, exactly two weeks after Christmas Eve, the day their father had left. Once he had dried his eyes, he picked the pen up again and continued to write. 'I can't remember what day it was. All I remember is that we had gone unfed by our mother, having to fend for ourselves, eating what we could find in the cupboards that was still edible. On that day, Gaara had found a way to get into Mother's room and screamed.' Kankuro shivered lightly and looked down to his scarred, slightly bloody wrist, then to the knife that was hidden by his mattress. It was the same knife they had found his mother holding when they found her dead on her bed, blood staining the bedspread around her wrists and neck.
It's been a long hard road without you by my side
Why
weren't you there the nights that we cried
You broke my
mother's heart
You broke your children for life
It's not
ok but we're alright
I remember the days you were a hero in my
eyes
But those are just a long lost memory of mine
Now I'm
writing just to let you know
I'm still alive
And I'm
still alive
Kankuro clenched his fist. It had grown quiet outside his room, which meant that the others would be settling down for dinner. As though to confirm his suspicions, a knock came at the door to the room.
"K-Kankuro-kun," Kankuro gave a light smile as he instantly recognized the soft, shy voice of the young girl who made frequent visits to the foster house, to visit her friends and to help out, as well as to see the one she had crushed on dearly since she had first layed eyes on him.
"What is it, Hinata?" He replied, keeping all the foreign emotions from his voice, regaining his normal, cocky tone. He turned his head to face the door as it slowly opened, a pair of scared white eyes peered around it, trying not to let much light into the room, knowing how much the boy prefered the darkness of his room to the artificial light given off by the lightbulbs.
"D-Dinner is ready," The stuttering voice came again, slightly more confident this time, though not meeting the gaze of the older boy, who still intimidated her.
"Thank you, Hinata," Kankuro said, giving a slightly doggish smirk. "But I won't be coming to dinner tonight. I'm not particularly hungry and I have some homework which I need to finish. I have to go out later so I will have something then."
Hinata looked slightly shocked at the fact that the boy had rejected the offer of food and looked as though she were about to object but thought better of it and nodded. Kankuro smirked again then turned back to his paper as Hinata then slowly backed out of the room, closing the door slowly and silently as she went.
Sometimes I forget
Yeah, and this time
I'll admit
that I miss you
Said I miss you
Kankuro gave a light smile as he thought back to all the support he had gained since he had been moved to the foster home with Iruka and Kakashi. There were quite a few children who lived here, each with their own perks and faults, but he had grown to almost call them.. family. Apart from himself and his two siblings, there were seven others. Naruto, whose parents had died not long after he was born, Sasuke, whose entire family was murdered and his brother gone, Sakura, a girl of unknown origins, Ino, Shikamaru and Chouji, all children whose fathers had fought in war about ten years ago and never came back, leaving them parentless, and Neji, a boy obsessed with fate whose father died of a mysterious illness and was left in the care of his uncle, whom he hated, so he ran away, only to be picked up and dropped off here.
Everyday, they would have visitors. Hinata, the cousin of Neji, was one of them who came to help Temari with cleaning, to help with dinner and to keep the girls company, while two friends of hers, Shino and Kiba, came along to keep the boys out of the girls way.
Kankuro stopped his writing of his current life and put the pen down. It was awfully quiet, and there hadn't been a loud-mouthed, cocky threat banging on his door, asking why he wasn't coming to dinner. In fact, he hadn't heard a single sound come from the vocal chords of the Inuzuka all day. He had been at school, so he wasn't sick. The only explanation for him not being here was that he had either been injured badly enough in a fight, or his mum had grounded him, though normally Kankuro was informed if it was the latter.
"If you aren't careful, you'll break something."
At the first sign of the voice, Kankuro's head shot up then shot around sharply, looking over his shoulder towards the door. In the darkness, he could make out a silhouette of a person, only inches shorter than himself. The persons head was bowed, hiding his face, though it really didn't matter. Kankuro had already figured out who it was by the voice. His face showed a mix of shock, surprise and happiness as he was unable to speak. He didn't move as Kiba raised his head, matching Kankuros doggish smirk with his own, before the Inuzuka approached the seated boy, a black mess of material in one hand.
"What's the matter?" Kiba said with a smirk, pulling Kankuro's hood onto the older boys head and kissing him lightly on the nose. "Cat got your tongue?" He gave a light chuckle as he lowered himself onto the boys lap, stradling his legs and putting his arms around Kankuro's neck. Kankuro smirked and raised his arms, wrapping them around Kiba's waist.
"Not quite," He said, leaning forward and resting his forehead against the smaller boys. "I'm just a little busy."
Kiba raised an eyebrow and looked backwards over his shoulder and down to the letter. He didn't need to read the whole thing to know what was going on. He read the first two words and his shoulders sagged. He turned back to Kankuro and sighed lightly.
"You actually doing it?" He asked, his smirk gone and his voice softer. Kankuro nodded and Kiba looked slightly depressed before sliding off of Kankuro and onto the boys bed. "I'll go with you down to the center and we can grab something to eat."
Kankuro looked at the boy and smiled, giving a nod. He picked up the pen, signing the letter and ripping it from his note book. He folded it and slipped it into an envelop with the address already written on it.
It's been a long hard road without you by my side
Why
weren't you there the nights that we cried
You broke my
mother's heart
You broke your children for life
It's not
ok but we're alright
I remember the days you were a hero in my
eyes
But those are just a long lost memory of mine
Now I'm
writing just to let you know
I'm still alive
Kankuro stood, leaving the letter on the desk, and walked over to his wardrobe, pulling the door open and shoving a hand into the pile of clothing at his feet. He pulled out a black hooded jacket and stood, pulling it on. Kiba stood from Kankuro's bed, grabbing the envelope from the desk and followed Kankuro as he left the room. They left the house almost silently, the only noise coming from the door closing as they disappeared from the house and down the street, disappearing into the light fall of snow.
And sometimes I forget
This time I'll admit
That I
miss you
I miss you
Hey dad
Hope you enjoyed it. I had fun writing it
Please R&R