These are the review responses.
Uchiwa: Thank you for the review. I tried to slow down the chapter some.
Jessica: Thanks. I'll try to remember not to keep Temari so soft when her chapter comes.
reviewer: Here is the continuation. Thanks for the review.
To all those who read this and didn't review, who favored the story,who alerted the story, or who added it to a C2, thank you so much and I hope you continue reading and enjoying the story and leave your comments.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Chapter II: Kankuro
Kankuro stood in front of his door, probing his ninja pouch for his keys. He cursed silently as his frustration from the day's events finally began taking its toll. Moving the smoke bombs in the pouch, he felt the light jingle of the key ring. He lifted it up, noticing the two bronze keys, both looked equally worn much like the key ring they were on. He ignored the need of getting new keys and unlocked the door.
He opened the door with force, clearing out a group of clothes that stood behind the door. Kankuro took a quick whiff of the room. His face soured, but changed into an exasperated sigh moments later.
"This is definitely my room." He mulled over buying some heavy-duty air freshener before dismissing the idea. "I like it better like this." He opened his closet and carefully put his puppets in the closet. He looked at them admirably before closing the door and heading for the bathroom, grabbing some black pants and underwear and a white shirt, kicking more random things out the way.
Kankuro threw his clothes on the dirty floor and jumped into the shower to clear all the filth away from him. He watched as all the face paint slid off his body and down the drain, leaving the dirt stained shower floor. He stepped out of the shower and looked at himself in the mirror.
Disgusting.
That was his initial thoughts. He looked at himself without his face paint and could only see his father. Those dark eyes, that stern face, that same auburn spiky hair that was typically covered by his cat-eared cap, and even his build, all mimicked him. He never liked the fact that he looked the most similar to his father. Compared to Gaara and Temari who looked more like their mother with those aqua colored eyes, Kankuro had his eyes compared to the dark, lifeless ones that had become a stable of his fathers.
Every time he would hear someone say, "You look just like your father," the few times, and there were very few times, he didn't have his face-paint on, he would get sick to his stomach. Thoughts of 'you're comparing me to that man,' or 'that's insulting' would ring in his mind as hate would become more and more apparent on his face leaving the person who said it to ask what was wrong. Kankuro would make a random outburst of anger and frustration. If it were to a superior ninja, he would try to dismiss it and get out the situation as quickly as possible.
After the first few times that happened, he began to wear face paint under the cover that he wanted to blend in with his surroundings better. It seemed to work, and the comments came less, but nonetheless, the thought is still occupied in his mind.
It disgusted him more that his personality was similar to his father. The phrase "like father, like son" never sat well with him. He was cold like his father. He was sure in his convictions like his father. Everything that he did seemed to be a shadow of his father, and it revolted him. Nothing he could do would change that. In a way, he was happy that his father died the way he did.
Betrayed. Just like he did to his children.
He slapped himself in the face a couple of times before opening the cabinet below his sink and pulled out his toothbrush and signature face paint. Satisfied with his physical appearance, he put on his clothes and walked outside of his room.
He looked around at his room. It was like a tornado had come and set itself in his room. From where Kankuro stood at the door to his bathroom, he could see clothes strewn on the floor. He looked down and picked up a bag of opened chips and stared eating. The stale taste did little to help his mood as he continued to look around. His bed was unmade, more than a few articles of food lie on the floor, from ramen and chips to sushi and beef. Bugs littered all over the floor, and some of Kankuro's face paint had found it's way on his white walls.
"No wonder Temari never came into my room." Temari was a closet neat freak. Despite her crude, overbearing personality, she had a few unexpected quirks. Being a neat freak was one of them, much like their father was. Kankuro grit his teeth before a brief smile that showed happiness came across his face. He was happy that outside of appearance, Kakuro and his dad differed at least in their views of cleanliness.
The Kazekage always kept anywhere he went clean. Some thought he was obsessive-compulsive, but he always refuted this. Either way, every time Kankuro drops something on the floor in a fit of untidiness, something inside himself feels happier than before. As if, every time he does something that trashes his room further, he is spitting on his hated father's face.
At least that's how Kankuro forced himself to look at the situation.
He looked out the window. The sandstorm blocked him from seeing long distance, but he could faintly see a man and a woman carrying groceries going down the street. Gradually, he could see the silhouettes of the two people fade away as the sandstorm increased dramatically in strength. Kankuro arched an eyebrow.
"Sandstorms can get bad, but usually aren't this bad at this time of the year. Unless…"
Kankuro's thought process left him once he heard a beast-like growl that sent shivers up and down his spine. He felt his body shake slightly, but managed to ignore it.
"Gaara," Kankuro uttered. He shook his head dismissively. "I guess those two people are dead." Kankuro stepped over a half eaten bag of chips, feeling the crunch of roaches at the bottom of his feet. He was used to the crunching of bugs by now. The crunch was different. It reminded him of the ninjas that his father used to send to kill Gaara.
The appalling noise that Gaara's Sand Coffin would make as it crushed the life out of the helpless victim never left him. He shook the image out of his head. It was so long ago. He looked back at the window, thinking back to when his father first started trying to kill Gaara.
"Dad, why are you going to kill Gaara?" Kankuro looked at his dad with wide-eyed wonder, holding his breath for his next words.
"He's become disposable. He's too dangerous, and thus needs to be exterminated." His dad spoke in a matter-of-fact tone that revealed no emotion or remorse for what he just did.
Kankuro took a step back. The coldness his father displayed was shocking. Kankuro could feel a slight difficulty in breathing. He composed himself long enough to ask the next question.
"Why? He's my brother. He's your son. What about Mom?"
"Your mom is dead, Kankuro. That monster of a brother killed her. If anything, you should be hoping he dies too." The Kazekage stood up and left the room leaving Kankuro staring at the ground.
"Gaara…killed mom?" He held a look of bewilderment as he stared at the floor of the Kazekage's Office alone.
Kankuro shook the image out of his mind. "That was probably when my opinion of Gaara really went downhill," Kankuro mused.
The conversation he had with Temari rang in his head again.
"I can't believe you find it so easy to forgive him, Temari. He's a monster. One wrong move, and you're dead. Do you honestly expect me to forgive him because he said 'I'm sorry' after getting his butt handed to him by that Uzumaki kid? No. Brother or not, I know what he really is. It's time for you to wake up and see that too. I'm leaving."
He noticed Temari rising from her chair as he reached for the doorknob. "Kankuro, he's our brother. He's all we have left."
"No Temari. You're all I have left."
He contemplated the conversation once more and shook his head. "Nope, still ain't buying it."
The words 'he's all we have left,' appeared in his mind again before they were calmly replaced with other ideas. He pulled out the puppets from the closet and set them on the bed before sitting down on the bed himself. Kankuro reached into his nightstand and pulled out a towel and polish and began working on Karasu.
He looked outside to see that the sandstorm was still going strong.
A/N: Sorry for the long layoff by here is the second chapter. This section is Kankuro. So let me know your thoughts. Leave a review and let me know what you like or don't like. Until next time.
