Two. A Delivery

Kankuro

Knock, knock.

Someone rapped on the door. I looked up for a moment, but then ignored it and went back to work, futzing with some of Karasu's mechanics.

Knock, knock.

"Dammit," I growled, flinging Karasu onto the floor. "Can't anyone ever leave us alone?"

"Open the door, Kankuro," Gaara called from his room. "We are guests while we stay here—we must greet everyone with grace and dignity. We represent Suna, don't forget. Do you want to give them the wrong impression?"

I didn't have anything to respond to that. Instead, I got up and opened the door like he had asked. It was better not to argue with Gaara.

"Inuzuka," I said, surprised.

He nodded. "Kankuro. I have a message for the Kazekage."

I cocked my head. "That so? Then give it here."

He shook his head. "My mother gave me strict instructions it has to go directly to him. No one else is really allowed to touch it."

"You're touching it," I pointed out.

"I'm the messenger. Of course I'm touching it—I'm supposed to deliver it."

"Then why not let me help you?" I asked. "You can deliver it to me, and I'll deliver it to Gaara."

This message had me intrigued. Who would send Gaara something so important—under such strict instructions—and merely have the messenger as a boy Chunnin, and not a Jounin?

"A message for me?" Gaara whispered from somewhere near my shoulder. I jumped; I had no idea he was there. It frightened me how he could move without making a sound.

"It's urgent," Kiba said, handing him the scroll. "I'm under strict instructions to wait for your answer."

Gaara took the scroll and moved back towards his room. "Feel free to wait," he murmured. "I'm sure Kankuro can scrounge up some tea for both of you." He turned to glare at me. His lips barely moved, but his words were clear. "Make sure our guest sees that we're not entirely without manners."

He vanished then, obviously gone to read the scroll in private. "I'd better make do on his instructions," I said, motioning for Kiba to enter. "If I don't, he'll have my head."

"And we certainly don't want that," Kiba laughed, holding the door for someone to enter behind him. It was his dog, Akamaru. Clearly they were close as ever.

I smiled to myself. Hearing his laugh like that—it made me happy. I liked hearing his laughter, and the way it would bubble out of him. It was like a geyser springing from the ground, both warm and unexpected.

I headed into the kitchen, searching for the elusive box of tea that Gaara had mentioned. Kiba was still following, muttering something unintelligible to his dog.

I held up two boxes. "What flavor? Mint or Green?"

"Mint," Kiba said.

"Good choice." I set a pot of water boiling on the stove and began to search the cupboards for cups. It was a few minutes before I found two; things were in utter disarray, and I no longer knew where to find simple items like cups and boxes of tea. It was this way every time Gaara came to visit Konaha—I could never seem to find anything in our flat, no matter how hard I looked.

Kiba lay back onto the floor, resting his head on Akamaru's stomach. His eyes were closed, lashes resting on tanned cheeks. I had never really noticed, but he wasn't all that bad-looking; I was sure the girls loved him, especially that Hyuuga kunoichi.

The teapot whistled, bringing me back to reality. Had I been admiring Kiba? I was going insane; Gaara and lack of sleep had driven me to it. That was my explanation.

Kiba sat up quickly. "What was that?"

"The teapot, you idiot."

"Look who you're calling the idiot, here," he said.

"Sorry," I sneered. "Must be my Suna upbringing—lack of manners and all."

Kiba snorted. "Oh yes, you Suna barbarian," he grinned. "How dare you act in such a manner in front of you guest."

I poured the water slowly, adding a teabag to each cup. I let it seep for a few minutes before setting the cups down onto the low table. I moved to take a sip, and spat it back out once it was in my mouth.

"Hot?" Kiba smirked.

"A bit. Stupid shit tea," I muttered.

He snickered. "Another toast," he laughed, holding up his cup. "To shit-tea and Suna's barbarians."

I clacked my cup against his, the glass making a small pinging noise where our cups met. "I'll drink to that, too."

Kiba sipped slowly at his tea, never taking his eyes off me. As the night continued to deepen and we waited for Gaara's answer, we laughed more and talked less, sometimes just bursting into bouts of mocking laughter for no reason at all.

It was the best night I'd had in a long time.