Chapter 6
Five days later, when it was the weekend, Kankuro and his father convened again, after having plenty of time to research their respective arguments. The weekend didn't mean anything special for a shinobi; Kankuro had long since stopped being able to say 'Yay, Friday!' But he suspected it was the spirit of the thing. He could still remember being glad to come home from classes on Friday afternoon, knowing he didn't have to get up early on Saturday. And his father had long had a tradition of cutting his days at the office short on weekends in deference to his status as a single father. So his father, too, was expecting that this discussion might run long into the night, if they deadlocked each other.
After dinner and everyone else was in bed, be it the servant staff or Kankuro's siblings, Kankuro met his father in the living room. He'd already brushed his teeth, washed off his face paint, and gotten on his pajamas, a loose black t-shirt and pale blue fleece cotton pants with a gray cat pattern. The cat pattern pajamas had been a joke gift from Temari last year, but he'd gone ahead and attacked them with enthusiasm, wearing them as often as possible. That'd show her.
His father was already there, dressed in a subdued black and gray yukata, plum wine poured and gleaming in the lamp light a rich burgundy. A book rested on the end table beside the bottle and glass. Research, Kankuro thought.
He'd memorized what he needed to know; he had an excellent memory, and he didn't think this was going to be the sort of formal debate where they had to quote exact passages and name names.
"Welcome," his father said wryly.
Kankuro bowed, with theatrical flair. "It's the Great Psych-Off."
Yondaime chuckled and bowed in return. "It is, indeed. Although I suspect neither of us will be joking about it as soon as we get started."
"Probably not," Kankuro admitted. "This seems like it's going to be painful."
His father nodded. "After all, neither of us are willing to pull our punches."
"It's like a sparring match," Kankuro said. "No need to feel guilty. We'll have this debate, and then it will be over."
"That's very mature of you," his father said.
Kankuro grinned. "Thank you." He gestured. "Now, as defender, I will allow you to go first. Tell me all about why what I want is such a big, bad thing." He sat down on the sofa, across from his father's armchair.
Yondaime sat down as well, folding his hands in his lap instead of touching his plum wine. "My first point will not be about what you want, but rather about how I have failed to raise you properly."
"Oh, boy," Kankuro groaned. "Okay." He should have suspected as much. I am like the only guy who has to defend his father from himself.
"Please take this seriously," his father said. "I have uncovered some sobering research."
Kankuro nodded and tried to keep an open mind. Even though he knew his father was wrong. "I'm sure you think it's bad."
His father gave him a look. "During teenage years, you are supposed to pull away from me and become your own person. All my research says so. In fact, there is supposed to be an equal and opposite reaction; the closer you felt to me, the more you should have wanted to pull away and identify yourself as an individual. The fact that you haven't means that I have somehow given you the message that pulling away and becoming independent is unacceptable. I've unwittingly trained you to sublimate your natural desires and appease my own. Something a father should never do."
"Am I allowed to talk back?" Kankuro asked.
His father gestured. "Please do. We could not have a discussion if we were not willing to talk to each other about the points we each bring up."
Kankuro nodded. "Alright, then." He thought about what he wanted to say; what would most effectively refute his father's statements.
His father waited.
"I am my own person," Kankuro said. "We wouldn't be having this discussion if I weren't. What you want me to do is give up and say that how I feel isn't right, and how you feel is right. You're trying to smother me, and I'm resisting."
Yondaime looked startled and discomfited. "Smother?"
"Well, you keep discounting my point of view," Kankuro said.
His father's gaze dropped, and then he rallied and looked Kankuro in the eye. "I am not discounting, I am trying to inform you."
Kankuro raised an eyebrow. "Either way, I'm not listening. I'd say that makes me a healthy teenager. Point for me, Dad."
His father opened his mouth, and then shut it again. Then he said, "Now, wait a minute. Simply because you argue with me about this one thing does not mean that you do not have a much larger base of obedience to me than is healthy. Obedience is a value of our culture, but at the same time, it should not be a form of obedience that stifles your attempts to individuate yourself from me. And wanting to take care of me at fourteen years old is a sign that I have enmeshed us and caused you to become co-dependent."
He said earnestly, "For example, making you pick me up at the office was wrong. I should have either refused your help, or acted like a mature adult and sent myself home, without needing you to shepherd me."
"It's just a ritual," Kankuro protested. "Every family has rituals."
"This is an unhealthy ritual," Yondaime retorted. "As are countless other things I make you do because I am too selfish to take care of myself or seek professional help."
"Like what?" Kankuro asked.
"I can't see my unhealthy behaviors, because I am the one doing them," Yondaime said. "The ritual of needing you to make me stop work for the day is simply obvious."
"Then how come I'm sexually attracted to you?" Kankuro asked.
"A codependent relationship between parent and child encourages a romantic bond to form, without the act of sex," Yondaime said.
"So…what?" Kankuro frowned.
"Because I am squeezing you too tightly and not allowing you enough freedom, you seek out a way of expressing your sexuality," Yondaime said.
Kankuro narrowed his eyes. "I'm attracted to you because I don't have a choice? That doesn't make any sense. I think I would notice if I was just settling for you because I didn't think I could get a date, or that you would approve of one. And I don't feel smothered, or like I would go on a date if I had less responsibilities to you."
"But you're not dating," Yondaime pointed out.
"Because I'm not real impressed with anyone," Kankuro said. "I don't meet a lot of people because I'm on missions, not because I'm tied hand and foot to your side. Eventually – like you – I'll have the opportunity to meet someone I'm attracted to. But I don't see the point of waiting through those long years of searching if I'm already in love with you."
"Not wanting to leave me behind to fend for myself is a sign that your thinking has been warped by the dependence I've allowed myself to have on you," Yondaime said despairingly.
"My thinking is not warped," Kankuro said. "And you never ask me for help. About anything. You always plow along by yourself, even when it hurts so bad you can't go to sleep without drinking something to ease your pain. You're lonely, and you're not reaching out to anybody. You're withdrawing. That's like the opposite of this emotional attachment abuse thing you're talking about."
"Even though I don't appear to be relying on you, I am still making you feel responsible for me, and that is the crux of this emotional abuse," Yondaime said. "We're both fooling ourselves, I by saying that I don't ask you for help, and you by saying that you do this out of your own free will."
"I want to help you," Kankuro said. He tapped his chest. "This is me. This feeling comes from me. It's not something you have insidiously implanted in me to keep me dependent on you. All fourteen-year-olds are dependent on their parents, and in our culture, families stay dependent on each other for survival all through their lives. That's what family's for. How do you distinguish between what's healthy attachment and what isn't?"
His father hesitated.
"If I weren't so healthy and independent, I would have already agreed with you just to make you happy," Kankuro said. "Even though I can tell I'm making you uncomfortable, and might damage your approval of me, I'm still pushing. That means I'm doing what your research says a healthy teen ought to do. So I'm developing fine."
His father bowed his head and passed a hand over his eyes.
"I win this one," Kankuro said. "As far as my development goes, it's one point to me."
"There are points, now?" his father murmured.
Kankuro grinned. "Yup. How else are we going to keep track?"
His father sighed. "Whatever you wish. There is one point to you, and none for me." He straightened in his seat. "And I must admit you are a stubborn individual. I would not equate you at all with the textbook example of a child who has been enmeshed with his or her parent."
Kankuro nodded. "Damn straight."
Yondaime looked distinctly unhappy. He flopped back in his chair and reached out for his glass of plum wine. He took a slow sip, brow furrowed in thought.
"What's your next move?" Kankuro asked quietly.
"Genetic Sexual Attraction," his father said, just as quietly. His unhappy expression grew.
"Ah." Kankuro nodded. "I researched that, too."
A heavy silence fell between them.
His father broke it; he straightened and set down his glass of plum wine on the end table by his chair. "I believe the evidence is clear: you perceive me to be attractive due to a complicated confluence of genetic and environmental factors. Human beings are geared to find the faces of their family members appealing. Sociologically, this helps us love our family members and want to support them. Genetic Sexual Attraction is something that helps bind families together. When it stays at low levels."
"When feelings of Genetic Sexual Attraction, or GSA, get bigger, it's supposed to be because of spending a long time apart, and then reuniting," Kankuro said. "The most common scenario is adoption/reunion, with a long gap between when the child was given up, and when they see their biological family again."
"The Westermarck Effect happens when a child is one to six years old," Yondaime said. "The child is subconsciously socialized not to fall in love with the people he or she spends time with during those years."
Kankuro chewed the inside of his cheek. "Yeah…so I'm supposed to not be able to be attracted to you, but I am. And this Genetic Sexual Attraction is beyond the limits of the norm."
His father took a deep breath, and sighed. "One theory is that you feel under-loved, and seek my attention and approval in a new way to fill that void inside of you."
Kankuro winced. "Ouch. That's a better argument than the emotional abuse thing."
Yondaime nodded. "As always, I am strategic in my timing. I placed the weaker argument first. As much as I fear that it is true that I have made you codependent."
Kankuro sighed. "I can't argue that I want to be loved. What kid doesn't? We all want our parents to love us. That's what parents are supposed to do. And I did feel bad that you pulled away from me over the past two years. But that's not why I want to emotionally support you. I told you, the sex part is something I'm not sure of."
"You're not codependent, but you wish to be," his father said wryly. "That sounds great. I'll just take my limited success and throw it out the window because we're too unhealthy to conceive of a solution."
"Dad…" Kankuro frowned at him.
"I am signing us up for family therapy either way," Yondaime said. "No matter what the outcome of this conversation, we are all going to get some much-needed help. We can't continue on this way, not with me feeling self-destructive, and you feeling responsible, Gaara feeling angry, and Temari as though she has to grow up in fast forward in order to win my approval and gain the final freedom to leave this house."
A trump card. I can't believe he pulled a freaking trump card on me. Kankuro scowled and crossed his arms. "I'd be a fool to say I don't wanna go. Of course we'll go if you say we have to. Maybe even Gaara."
"You're angry with me," Yondaime stated.
"Well, yeah. I thought you took this seriously. Now I find out it's just a delaying tactic while you set up therapy for us," Kankuro said.
"I haven't set up anything yet," Yondaime said. He hesitated. "I wanted to speak with you all first. I couldn't make a decision like that on my own. We are a family."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Kankuro muttered. Although it did, a little bit.
"Unequal power dynamics are why a sexual relationship between a parent and child could never work," Yondaime said softly. "I just proved my point by placing you in this scenario. I have the power and resources to be unfair, to refuse to listen or stop listening when you think you should have a voice. I am not on an even footing with you."
"No one could be," Kankuro objected. "You're Kazekage. Anyone would just have to trust you. Not just me. It's your responsibility to act fair, because you need somebody to trust you enough to love you. Don't throw my feelings away just because you want to make a point."
"I need to do what is best for you as a father," Yondaime said gently, but he looked unmistakably hurt by Kankuro's criticism. "I am not your lover. I am not your equal, or your friend. I am someone who is supposed to guide your life so that you turn out for the best. A little anger towards me might go a long ways in making sure that you grow up properly. I can't imagine a man who hasn't become angry at his father a few times."
"You want me to be angry at you?" Kankuro ran a hand through his hair, confused. He had a sinking feeling that his father's relationship with his grandfather had a lot to do with how this conversation was going.
"It makes sense to me," Yondaime said.
"And devotion doesn't," Kankuro said.
His father fell silent.
"You're sabotaging," Kankuro said. He decided in an instant. "I'm onto you. And I have the perfect research to pull off the mask on this game."
"Onto me?" Yondaime frowned. "I doubt you have anything to say that could change the outcome of this discussion. To the best of my ability, I have reconstructed the terrible childhood I put you through, and nothing is going to stop me from changing so that you do not have a terrible future."
"If nothing's going to change your mind, then you may as well let me talk for my own satisfaction," Kankuro said.
His father stared at him for a moment. Finally, he said, "I'm listening. I am interested in what you have to say. I did not mean to imply otherwise."
"I have a study done in Masago I'd like to talk about," Kankuro said. Masago was a major village in Wind country, on the other side of the desert.
"Alright," his father said, nodding. "Go ahead."
"The study in Masago was done on adults raising children," Kankuro said. "The adults who had experienced abuse by their parents reported less competence in their parenting skills." He raised an index finger. "However, when the investigators actually monitored the parents with their children, they found that these parents were just as proficient at raising children as the adults who had not been abused." He looked at his father pointedly.
Yondaime cleared his throat.
For a moment, silence fell between them.
"You haven't messed me up," Kankuro said. "You just think you have because your father was abusive." He was taking a big risk, talking about a subject that made his father so uncomfortable, but he wanted to make it clear he wasn't going to let anything slide past him.
"Thank you, Kankuro," Yondaime said, in what sounded suspiciously like his Official Voice.
"Please don't withdraw from me," Kankuro said softly. "We need to talk about this. He really hurt you; and I know it's affecting your perceptions. You're scared of what could happen to me because of him."
"No, I'm not," Yondaime objected. "I'm scared because of what the evidence says! What my intuition says! Everything about this is wrong."
"My feelings are not wrong," Kankuro said. He swallowed a lump in his throat. This is what it comes down to. I believe in feelings, and he believes in logic, and he's going to smush me. Gaara didn't get that trait from nowhere, although anyone who pointed out that similarity between Gaara and Yondaime would be pulped.
"You don't think this is wrong because you don't feel abused," Yondaime said. "Your feelings of importance and specialness make you believe that this is a good thing. You don't realize that I have suppressed your sense of self and capitalized on your forming psyche in order to mold someone who is going to love me unconditionally with no thought of themselves. You are willing to sacrifice it all, because I have implanted this adoration of me. I forced you to give up a normal childhood, and all in order to cater to me and my selfish urges."
He picked up the book that had been resting on the end table the entire time. Kankuro had been wondering about this. "This book even suggests that I could have formed a codependent relationship with you as a child, and then destroyed it when I turned distant after your graduation. They say that's the same thing as divorcing you. They say I've emotionally trashed you, and you're trying to get me back by any means necessary, including offering me your body because you can't conceive of any other way to get my attention!"
Kankuro watched his father grow steadily more upset with every word. He rose and crossed the space between them, gently plucking the book from his father's fingers. "Stop reading this stuff and listen to me." He hugged his father, wrapping his arms around his father with continued gentleness. "You are a good Dad. These books aren't about you. Doesn't it count that to get through to you, I'm going against you at every turn? What kind of crushed, suppressed self is that? I'm rebellious, and strong. And I can take care of you; whether you want me to or not."
"I can't," his father choked out.
Kankuro hugged his father a little more tightly and started rubbing his father's back. "Can't what?"
"Can't tell you." His father squeezed his eyes shut. "Can't tell you these things. These books…they confirm what I was afraid of all along. All along…I can't." The final time, those words were a sob. His father's breath caught on them.
That decided Kankuro instantly. He shifted his father over and sat down in the oversized armchair beside his father, squeezing in and holding his father tightly. "What are you talking about? Try to breathe. Just breathe, Dad." He continued rubbing his father's back, the embrace encouraging his father to lean against him.
"Oh, son…" Yondaime's voice wavered, and tears welled up, sticking to his eyelashes. "I tried so hard. To find out that I failed…" The physical affection seemed to undo his father far more effectively than any fact-based argument. His self-control rapidly dwindled, until he was clinging to Kankuro and quietly crying.
"Tried so hard to what?" Kankuro asked gently. You see? You do need me. Look at yourself. Why did you put yourself under all this pressure? Kankuro resisted the urge to kiss his father; that would only upset him.
"To avoid being anything like him." His father's voice swelled indignantly on the last word, leaving no doubt as to whom he meant. "He would come home every day, and it would always be something like, 'You'll never believe what happened today'. To my mother first, even though I would be sitting there at the table. And he would snarl it out. Sometimes, it was just about someone whom he believed had been disrespectful to him. And we were supposed to say, 'That's awful', even when we couldn't care less. And he would say, 'Kids these days'. Or whoever it had been. Some disgruntled comment. And he would still be surly, until Mom started stroking his arm and telling him dinner was ready, if he'd like to eat it. And he'd say, 'Hmph', but he would give in. Unless…unless…"
Yondaime trembled. "Unless it was a bad day, and then I had to come in. He would look at me, look right at me, and say, 'Haven't you got anything to say about this?' And when he first started doing it, I didn't know what to say. And he'd snap at me to have some consideration. But after I said – I said once, and I'll never forget it, because I'll regret that day for the rest of my life: 'I'll make you feel better. Sensei at school said that people get out their frustrations through training sometimes. Let's train. I need the practice anyway.'" Yondaime bit back a sob. "I was just trying to help. He was my father."
Kankuro was horrified. He hugged his father tightly, trying to shield his father from what had already happened. "What did he do? Just beat you up or something?"
"He didn't stop until he'd caught me, and gave me a bloody nose, and a black eye, and I –" His father sucked in a deep breath. "He broke my arm. He broke my arm, and I sank to my knees – the pain was so great I couldn't even cry out, even if I'd wanted to, and he said, 'Thanks, son. I feel better'. M-m-much better, he said."
Kankuro thought he was going to be sick. He wanted to throw up. "What did he do then? Did he take you to a med nin?"
"He straightened his belt and left me there," Yondaime said. "I knocked his belt loose grabbing for it when I tried to stop him from breaking – from hurting me. And he just tightened it back up and went back to the house."
Kankuro imagined a typical martial arts uniform and nodded. It made sense. He could imagine his father grabbing for purchase and latching onto the martial arts belt. "So…did he do anything?"
"When…When I could finally walk again, because numbness set in, I got back to the house and sat down at the table, and all Father said was that I hurt my arm," Yondaime said.
"What a jerk," Kankuro whispered, knowing that was hardly sufficient language for something like this. His breath was stolen away.
"Mother asked if something should be done about it, and my father said it could wait until the morning," Yondaime said.
"No way," Kankuro said, shocked. "She didn't seriously go for that, did she?"
His father nodded slowly. "I slept all night with a broken arm. I tried not to move it…" He shuddered, paling. "Then in the morning the med nin reset it at the hospital without any anesthetic. He said I was a fool for not coming earlier."
"How old were you?" Kankuro protested.
His father swallowed. "Seven."
"Good God!" Kankuro exclaimed. "What the hell? How does he get off talking to a little kid that way?"
"You don't get it," Yondaime said. "I was practically an adult. I was in my second year of school. Practically a trained shinobi. I went to the hospital by myself; I didn't need a chaperone to take me there, and –"
"Wait a minute." Kankuro stared at him. "Your father made you go alone? Your mom did? What for?"
Yondaime trembled. "I don't know…"
Kankuro realized he'd unintentionally backed his father into a corner with that line of questioning. "It's okay. It's okay…" He rubbed his father's arm, and suddenly realized he was trying to rub the arm that had been injured. But he didn't know which one it was.
His father looked at him with sad comprehension. "Yes. That's the one."
Kankuro snatched his fingers back for a second, then took in his father's expression and continued rubbing, trying to imagine that this slender arm had ever been broken.
"They did a good job," Yondaime said in a low voice. "I'll give them that. I never sustained permanent marks from my injuries."
Kankuro saw that his face must have been transparent. Hardly the high moment of a puppet master. But on the other hand, he wasn't trying to put up masks around his father. He wanted his father to know how he felt. How horrible it all was. Because it is. It is horrible. Every bit of it. I can't believe he survived like this.
"You hardly ask to go out to the dojo and beat me every day," Kankuro said softly. "You're not like him."
His father swallowed, hard. "I try…but…"
"No buts," Kankuro said. "You're just not." He pointed to the closed book he'd left on the end table. "I don't care what you think you read. It doesn't apply to you. You're not abusive."
"Kankuro…" His father shifted, hugging him gently.
"I'm not saying that because I'm screwed in the head," Kankuro said.
"I didn't say that," Yondaime said.
"No, but you've been saying it," Kankuro said. "I'm not in love with you because you made me or something. I am my own person, and you can't stop me from being in love. And it's not the worst thing in the world anyway. There are lots of worse people to love than you. You're not a monster – just like Gaara isn't. Aren't you the one that's always saying Gaara isn't a monster and that people should learn to love him? Give him a chance?"
His father looked at him guiltily. "Gaara is a whole other subject we will not get into any time soon. My failure there is monumental, and there is no way I can possibly fix it, no matter how hard I try. He will always believe that I hate him, that I am cruel to him, and that I want to kill him. There is no way to rectify it."
"Okay," Kankuro said, because he knew a discussion of Gaara would only make his father feel worse.
"I want you to give me a chance," his father said softly. "I want you to give me a chance to fix things, to love you, to give you the affection and trust you need from me. But not this way. Not by offering you Karura's spot in my life. No one occupies that space. No one can. I am not a good candidate for a healthy relationship of that kind. Together, in therapy, we can work on a father/son bond. But that is all I have to offer you. It will never be romantic."
Kankuro nodded slowly, taking this explanation in. "I wanna be close to you." Like this. "And I still say I'm in love with you. It's not simply Genetic Sexual Attraction. That's what you didn't let me get around to. I don't think that's it. That's not the only answer. GSA is always bottom-lined as lust. And yeah, I feel that for you. I'm not going to lie. You're beautiful, and I'm attracted to you. But I also love you. I love you so much I want to be there for you, and that seems romantic to me."
His father sighed. "This is something we will discuss in therapy. With a professional. I can't offer you any answers, Kankuro. I can only offer my sincere apologies and my determination to make this right." He squeezed Kankuro gently. "One way or another, we will build a relationship in which you feel loved. Because that is what you deserve."
But what about you? Don't you deserve to be loved? Kankuro felt his father was still missing the point. "Yeah. I'm aware of my rights. And I'm holding you to that." He smirked. "One way or another, you're gonna be there for me. Because I won't let you retreat and hide."
"I appreciate that," Yondaime said. He gave Kankuro such a look of sadness and gratitude that Kankuro almost kissed him right then and there.
Kankuro hugged him tightly. "Let's go to bed. And this time, you're going to let me hold you all night."
"You better not get used to it," Yondaime said. "Because that is going to be the first thing the therapist says is wrong."
Kankuro grinned and stood, helping his father up. "But you're not saying no."
"Tonight? I'm too tired." Yondaime gave him a look. "I wonder why that is."
Kankuro chuckled. "Probably because I argued with you all night."
"That could be it," his father agreed.