Seven. Guys and Dolls
Kiba
I hadn't expected him to go through with it. All the hoping, believing, praying—who knew it would have worked so well?
The kiss was clumsy and slow, as though we both had lost any prior skill. This kiss was new to both of us, which meant that it felt new. Raw, like a fresh wound.
I could smell the rain, and his skin and I could taste him. It was so wonderful, so beautiful. And it felt so right.
But that was what puzzled me—that it felt right. That meant that I was—that I might be—no, I didn't want to think about that.
I pulled away, softly, with Kankuro's arm still wrapped around my neck. "Should we be doing this?"
"You didn't seem to mind. Why not? It's not like we're doing anything wrong."
I pulled away from him and faced the wall, leaning on it for support. My legs felt weak, and the cold rain was making my skin numb.
"I didn't say it was wrong. It's just…" I sighed, trying to think of a way to explain it. "I didn't think I liked boys…that way. And suddenly you're here, and you're kissing me and—it's not that I didn't like it, because I did—but I'm just not sure if I want to be…"
"Gay." He finished.
"Exactly."
"Do you have something against it?" he asked, and I wondered if I had offended him.
"No!" I cried. "Not at all. I just haven't ever thought about being it before. It's such a…big change."
Kankuro was silent. The rain hissed in the background, like the sound of a thousand snakes.
"Is it…that big of a deal?" he said finally. "Gay…straight…it's like being a Suna shinobi or a Konaha shinobi. There are small differences, sure, but the general picture is the same."
"That's one way of putting it, I guess."
"Yeah."
There seemed to be nothing more to say. I realized Kankuro and I had two options: kiss more or go back inside and sleep, perhaps pretending that this had never happened.
The sound of shattering glass cut through my thoughts. Kankuro's eyes met mine, and I knew we were thinking the same thing: Gato's followers.
I slid to the edge of the alley, peering around the edge of the wall. A few houses down the street there were two ninja attempting to get through a broken window. The pieces of glass lay scattered in the street like large drops of rain.
Kankuro's hand moved to his back, and he seemed to realize that Karasu was back at the house. So was Akamaru.
He moved to open the supply case that was strapped to his leg. He got out two kunai knives and three shuriken of each of us. "Here," he said, handing them to me. "Try not to make a sound. Chances are that if these guys are stupid enough to make that much noise, they're also stupid enough for us to sneak up upon."
"Can't we go back for reinforcements?"
"No time."
I nodded and began to slowly creep forward. "Okay, then."
We crept down on all fours, going from house to house until we were underneath the broken window. I could hear the two goons snickering inside as they pocketed the goods.
Kankuro and I looked at each other and nodded, slipping through the window so quietly that the goons didn't notice.
I crouched behind a couch, waiting for his signal. I glanced around and frowned. He was gone. I heard both the goons drop their items, and one of them swore loudly. Kankuro had gone into the kitchen—without me. It struck me that he was like that a lot.
"What are you two boys doing, messing up this house?" I heard him whisper. His voice was sharp and deadly quiet. I could tell he'd picked it up from Gaara. "Damn," he muttered. "Don't you two know how to clean up you mess?"
On the word mess I dove into the kitchen, just in time to see Kankuro flip the small kitchen table on top of both of them. He stood on it, brushing his hands off. He looked to me. "I guess that takes care of that." He smiled, but his jaw dropped lower into a look of horror. "Kiba!" he screamed.
"What?"
"I've caught you," someone whispered from behind me. A large shadow obstructed the light that came from the broken front window. There was a third ninja right behind me. How had I not smelled him?
I could smell him now, with his strange odor of salt water and sweat. I wrinkled my nose. I hadn't been thinking clearly before. And now I was in trouble.
He pressed a large, cold sword to my throat. "Boy," he said gruffly. His voice reminded me of sandals on gravel—low and scraping. "You'd better say your prayers."
"You know," I said, trying to sound as uncaring as I could with a blade to my throat. "A lot of people have told me that over the years. And, funnily enough, I've said my prayers like a good boy." I eyed the kitchen, looking for Kankuro. He had deserted me—again. Bastard.
No doubt he would turn this into a flat-out heroic rescue, just so I'd have to be in his debt for eternity.
"So," I continued, my voice edging higher, "you know what those prayers brought me?"
I paused. I had no idea where my speech was going. If anything, it was just to buy Kankuro enough time.
"Me," I heard from somewhere behind me. It was Kankuro, using that same creepy voice as before. And there, floating in front of him, was a child's rag doll, like one I remebering Hana carrying with her when she was little.
The ninja behind me loosened his grip on the blade. It seemed that Kankuro's tactic was working. Then he began to chuckle. "You think you can get rid of me with that little doll? You're better off going and playing house with it—I'll rip it to shreds in no time."
Kankuro's brow furrowed. "What the hell did you say?"
The ninja kept laughing. "It's a doll," he managed. "A stupid doll. What the hell are you going to—Aggh!"
His cry choked. His blade had loosened far enough away from my throat, so that I stabbed him in the leg with my kunai knife. I slipped out from underneath the water nin's arm.
Kankuro moved forward, prepared to strike. The ninja backed up, evidently taken off-guard. Kankuro dove forward, using all of his speed, and jumped the couch, using his foot to send a swift kick into the ninja's lower jaw.
He stumbled backwards from the blow and fell to the floor while Kankuro landed on his feet, still controlling the doll.
"Are you sick of playtime yet?" he asked, a cocky smile placed broadly on his face.
The ninja groaned, then lay still on the wood.
I frowned. "What are you doing with that doll, anyway?"
He shrugged. "I don't know—distraction tactic, I guess." He laughed, and the doll slowly drifted to the floor. "I didn't even have a plan, really. I just knew I needed to save you—fast. And what do you know, it worked."
He strode over to where the large ninja lay on the floor and nudged his chin with a muddy foot. "C'mon, big boy," he grinned. "You and your friends are coming with us."
