Kankuro – May 15th
Disclaimer: must I say it?
nods
sigh Don't own
Warning: slight fluff, but hopefully no OOCnes.
Kankuro – May 15th
It was one of those days in Suna. The kind of day where everybody knew something should be happening, but nothing ever did. Kankuro was aware what this something was only aware of what this something was when he stood up to check his hair in the mirror and saw Happy Birthday Little Brother! :D scrawled in huge purple letters across its reflective surface, courtesy – he assumed – of his dear elder sister Temari. He shrugged, still too tired to get angry over such a thing, turning then to apply his make-up, and discovering that it had all been used up to write said birthday message.
Kankuro was not amused.
"TEMARI!"
The battle-cry was carried all the way from the Kazekage mansion to where Kankuro's esteemed alder sister – creator of the mess – was sat at the edge of the village atop a half-buried Buddha statue and nibbling at a long-horded bar of Suna's finest chocolaty goodness.
It wasn't long before Kankuro found his beloved sister, fuming mad and still reeling from the villagers looks of shock at him running through their midst wearing only his purple kitty-print pyjamas – he only hoped they wouldn't realise it was him due to lack of aforementioned makeup.
His mood did not improve when Temari, sensing the death waves emanating from her newly 16 year old brother, turned and smirked at him.
"What was that for!?" he shrieked – yes shrieked – and stomped up to where the cause of his problems was currently basking in the early morning desert sun.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean" she replied, and another smirk slid across her face.
"You used all my make-up to write that stupid message! Couldn't you at least have used your own?" he said, suddenly realising what a tiny thing he was stressing about.
"I don't wear makeup" she replied bluntly, causing Kankuro to freeze and emit a little sound along the lines of "gah". "Do you remember what the message said?" Temari asked, suddenly serious.
"Yeah . . ." Kankuro was somewhat confused "It said happy birthday . . . right?"
"Right" she paused at the brunette's blank look "Why do you think I wrote that message?"
"Too annoy me of course!"
Temari could have smashed her head against a wall repeatedly, asked the same question and probably have gotten the same answer. She drew in a deep breath and released it in the form of a long-suffering sigh. "Little brother, did you realise what day it was when you woke up?"
Kankuro thought back . . . "No"
"I didn't think you would have –"
"Ah-ha! So it was reminder?" Temari smacked him around with her fan, a vein growing larger and more obvious on her forehead in her irritation.
"DON'T INTERRUPT!" she yelled. Kankuro, clasping his poor bruised head glowered at his violent elder sibling and nodded sullenly. "Ahem. You didn't remember your birthday because no one ever does in this village. Gaara's birthday was the first to be celebrated in decades. You not remembering your birthday is, well its normal I suppose, what's not normal is how you spend every other day"
"Eh? What do you --"
"You're constantly thinking about other people. You never have time for yourself – and don't tell me your tinkering around in that workshop is your own time because I know it's not. You do it for the village. You do it to protect our little brother and your new, stronger bond with him. You do it to protect him in order to make up for all those years he never needed protection and you never gave it. Your puppets are created for the good of others so that they can relax while you work your stupid ass off to make sure they're safe."
"Temari . . ." she turned away from him, arms folded
"You never have time for yourself" she muttered "that's what this day is supposed to be for – for thinking about yourself and for relaxing and for making other people look after you, not the other way around"
"Sis, I –"
"Don't bother" she snapped, adding more gently "just promise me you'll take this day off?"
"Sure sis, whatever you say" Kankuro agreed slowly, no longer rubbing his gargantuan bruise, but instead watching Temari very carefully. She stood with her back to him a little longer; head tilted upwards at the clouded sky, but then turned back and grinned happily.
"Here" she called, tossing a small package into the puppet master's lap
"Huh? What's this?" Kankuro asked, turning it over in his hands
"It's a tradition in Konoha to give people gifts for their birthdays" she said, walking back in the direction of the village centre "open it."
Kankuro stared after his sister – she really was a little too soft centred for a Shinobi sometimes – and then back at his present. Undoing the purple ribbon on his little parcel, Kankuro gasped in surprise when the wrapping fell open to reveal four perfectly carved figures that had been lost so long he'd forgotten their existence.
Three of them were as badly painted as ever (though at the time they'd seemed masterpieces), red and green splodges was the tiny baby Gaara (who had not yet been born yet), a somewhat oddly coloured one he assumed was Temari, and the purple one was, without a doubt, him. The fourth one was painted with far more skill, and was almost lifelike.
It was the master doll from which the other three had been copied and the blonde hair, blue-green eyes and long blue and white kimono were applied with such grace that they reflected exactly the woman who had created it: his mother. Temari had finally returned his last link to the long-dead but eternally beautiful woman.
Inside the package was a small note written in almost illegible hand-writing and another in a far neater hand. The neat one was his mother's and read:
Kankuro, I hope that you will allow these dolls to guard you in my place when I am gone, I know that you will not be able to read this until much later and I am sorry I will not be able to be there. Look after your family, but remember also to look after yourself. Remember me always and I, too, will watch over you through these dolls,
Your ever-loving mother.
The second, almost unreadable note was shorter and he guessed it was Temari's.
What she said.
Was all it read. Kankuro read both and then gripped the four dolls more tightly.
"Thank you . . . Onee-sama, okaa-san"
Owari!