Author's Note: It broke my heart, writing that last chapter. I almost wanted to cry. Poor Kankuro. Can't anything every work out right for him?

Nineteen. Nothing More Than Tears

Kankuro

He doesn't want me…hates me…can't stand…

I ran down the dark street, stopping once I reached the forest. I had gone too far. Our hotel room was all the way on the other side of town, closer to the festival.

I dropped to my knees, too mentally and emotionally exhausted to go any farther. Kiba didn't want me anymore. I couldn't believe he'd said that. To tell me that we needed a break, or that he couldn't hurt Ino anymore, or that he just felt we weren't right together—that was one thing.

But what he'd suggested, that we'd never speak, and that I couldn't look at him, not even from a distance—that broke my heart.

And all that I said to him, that damn high-and-mighty speech I had to force down his throat…it was all true. All of it.

I loved him, no matter what he said. I had a feeling it would never fade, much like how even though wounds from a battle healed, the memories and the scars never entirely disappeared.

My legs worked of their own will, until I was on my feet, mindlessly running towards the other side of town, to the festival. I didn't know whether or not Temari was still out and about with Nara. They might have already gone in.

Still, I needed to find someone, anyone. I needed a shoulder to break down on, even if it was the shoulder of a complete stranger.

Hell, I also needed some ramen. I made a sharp left and turned into the Ichiraku Ramen Shop. The place was deserted, save for two chunin who were busy scarfing down what looked to be their fifth bowl of ramen each.

I handed the waitress my money. "I'm going to need a glass of sake, too."

"Rough night?"

"You've no idea," I sighed.

Ten minutes later, I had a hot bowl of ramen and a small glass of sake sitting in front of me. I grabbed my chopsticks and began to slurp the hot noodles before I realized something was splattering in my soup. I looked upward. Rain or a busted water pipe, maybe?

Nope, the ceiling was clear. I raised a gloved hand to wipe my eyes, and that was when I realized what I had been seeing. Tears. They were coursing down my face, hot a salty. My eyes stung. The more tears I wiped away, the more that came. I couldn't help it.

Finally I put my head on the bar and silently sobbed. I didn't care if I represented Suna anymore, nor did I care if anyone saw or cared. I wanted to cry, so I was going to cry, dammit!

"K-Kankuro-san? Is t-that you?"

I raised my head, opening one paint-smeared eye. "Hyuuga Hinata?" I was surprised to see her. I certainly didn't expect to find her at a place like this, at this late at night.

She nodded. "I saw your p-puppet, and I thought maybe we could…t-talk. You seem sad."

"I'm not sad," I growled. "If anything, I'm majorly pissed off."

She jumped at the anger in my tone. "Oh. May I ask what has you so angry?"

I perked up a bit. She was a strange one, always speaking so formally. But…could I tell her? She'd been a genin with Kiba, and she'd trained with him for so long. No, I couldn't press my problems onto her. It was better to leave them be.

I rose from my chair, draining the last of my sake. I heaved Karasu onto my back, turning to smile weakly at Hinata. "It's nothing. I think I'm going to head home now, anyway. Good night, Hinata."

"Good night, Kankuro," she called.

I didn't look back as I ran. I couldn't. She didn't need to see me crying again.

"Kankuro, you look terrible!" Temari cried upon my arrival back at the house. She was dressed in a bathrobe, and Shikamaru was entirely shirtless, and his pants were unbuttoned. I had evidently interrupted something, but I didn't care. If she wanted to act like a big sister, than now was her chance.

I sank down next to her on the floor, dropping Karasu at the door. Shikamaru went over and opened the window, lighting up a smoke. "What's the deal, kid? You look like something the cat dragged in."

"Shikamaru!" Temari hissed.

"What? It's the truth."

My eyes began to sting again. "If you love someone, you do what they ask no matter what, right?" I whispered, a lump rising in my throat. It was so hard to speak, or even think, for that matter. My chest ached, and I felt like my heart was beginning to decompose into nothingness.

Shikamaru dropped his smoke outside the window and came over to us, sitting down beside Temari. "That's generally the idea," he said.

I lay back onto Temari's bedspread. "Then I love him," I said. "It's that simple."

"Nothing's ever that simple," Shikamaru groaned. "Love is such a—"

"Shikamaru!"

"I mean…love is a wonderful gift…and all that…crap…." he continued, fingering a pack of cigarettes he had in his pocket.

Temari knelt over me. "So what did he ask you to do for him?" she asked. "Is it…that sort of thing? Do you want to talk to Gaara about it, instead?"

"Heel no!" I growled, pulling her pillow over my face. "It's…much worse than that. He told me that he wants me to stay away…that he and I can't…" I choked and sat up, rubbing more tears from my eyes. "He doesn't want me." The tears continued to fall in small drops, just like my words. "It's like one of those bad dreams…I just kept running, but I couldn't go fast enough. I think I'm losing it, Temari."

"Did he give you a reason why?"

"He loves Ino. Our feelings were getting in the way of that. And if that's what he truly wants…what he needs…is her, then I guess I've nothing to do but respect that."

"You're doing the right thing, Kankuro," Temari assured me. She removed my headpiece and stroked my hair. I felt like I was a child again, small and helpless.

Shikamaru frowned. "That doesn't sound like Kiba."

I laughed coldly. "You're wrong, Nara. If you think that doesn't sound like Kiba, then you've never even met him."

The next day Temari told Gaara to let me sleep. He obeyed her, but not without questioning her motives. She was forced to explain everything, so he knew. But it didn't matter—it was all over now, anyway. What had happened was old news.

Around noon I got quite hungry. I grabbed some money off the counter—not bothering to re-apply my paint or grab my headband—and headed out towards the festival. I was hungry for some ramen again, so I stopped by Ichiraku.

I had just sat down when a strand of long purple hair fluttered past my face. "Kankuro, is t-that you? I though it might be."

"Hinata," I said, smiling as she sat down next to me. "It's good to see you. Are you hungry for some ramen? You seem to come here an awful lot."

She blushed. "N-no, not ramen…I come here because sometimes Naruto…"

My heart ached. This girl wasn't so different from me. "So you're also…pining for a love that can't be?"

"I-I guess so…I'm…n-not really sure if Naruto likes me back or n-not…"

"Looks like we have something in common, then."

Oh." She glanced down, stirring her ramen with her chopsticks. "So…you and Kiba…"

"He said he didn't want to see me anymore."

"And that's why you were…so sad last night?"

Her large lavender-white eyes shimmered with tears. She was sad for me? My heart was suddenly very heavy. How many more people in this world were like the two of us, so filled with heartache it pained them to meet others like themselves?

"Hinata! There you are. Shino and I have been…Kankuro? What are you doing here?"

I didn't answer. Not talking had been his idea, not mine.

"Kankuro? Hellooooo? Anyone home in there?" Then he did the strangest thing: he kissed me. His lips pecked my cheek, sending warmth spreading through my stomach.

I flushed with rage. What the hell kind of game was he playing? "Don't touch me!" I yelled, knocking my chair backwards as I stood up. "Didn't I tell you how sick I am of your fucking games? What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you think I'm your toy? Do you?"

"Kankuro, I-I…"

"Get the hell out of my sight. If you're going to ask the same of me, at least make it easy."

Kiba's mouth gaped, searching for words that wouldn't come. He looked as though I had slapped him. Tears ran down his cheeks. "You're cruel." Akamaru, waiting patiently at Kiba's feet, began to whine.

"I love you."

"Then maybe you should fucking act like it once and a while," he whispered.

Beside me, I heard Hinata intake a sharp breath. She evidently didn't like conflict. Kiba's eyes were hard, fixated on mine. The tears blurred out his pupils. I couldn't read all of his expression, but I could see anger, hurt, confusion…fear. Dammit. He was the last person that deserved to feel any of those things.

He turned and bolted, Akamaru on his heels. Hinata began to sob, but said nothing. I couldn't blame her—I wanted to cry more than anyone.

The cloth that hung over the shop entrance rustled, and Shino entered.

"Kankuro," he said. "There's something I need to tell you."