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sentinelpri · 1 year

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Memento Mori

May 9th, Day 1: Victory/Defeat @sandsibweek

The moment Temari hears from Gaara that Asuma has been killed in a battle against two Akatsuki members, she rushes to Konohagakure on foot and makes her way to the Nara compound with some half-baked directions from local villagers. She’s exhausted, sweaty, and in desperate need of food and a shower by the time she gets there, but she knows now isn’t the time to relax, so she doesn’t. Instead, she knocks on Shikamaru’s door and tries to keep a straight face when he answers.

“Temari, what are you doing here?” Shikamaru questions like he normally would, but upon taking a closer look at him, Temari can tell he’s defeated.

Shikamaru has bags under his eyes unlike any Temari has seen before. His face is pale and ashy but simultaneously covered in tear streaks. While Shikamaru’s hair is tied up, it’s matted and Temari can just tell it hasn’t been brushed in days. To top it all off, instead of being in his standard uniform, Shikamaru is in nothing but pajama pants.

“I came as soon as I heard,” Temari explains.

“Heard about w-?” Shikamaru starts, but then he stops. A morbid look of realization washes over his face. As he sighs, Temari notices that he reeks of cigarette smoke. “Oh, you mean Asuma. Why do you care?”

It’s an awkward question to answer. Temari cares because she cares about Shikamaru. The ravenette was much closer to his sensei than Temari ever was to hers, she could tell by hearing how Shikamaru talked about Asuma or by how the two would interact when she was in town for work. Asuma’s death must be crushing him, but Temari has never had to comfort Shikamaru like this. Though they’re friends, they’re mostly comrades, only together because of their jobs. Now, Temari is here of her own free will and unsure of how to express that she’s only here because of her love for the man in front of her.

“I… Well, I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Again, why do you care? It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know you’re hurting,” Temari sighs. She’s tempted to yell at him for talking to her so rudely when she came all the way from Suna to comfort him, but he’s grieving right now. Temari has grieved many more times than Shikamaru has, and she knows it turns people into the nastiest versions of themselves. Yelling won’t work, nor will sarcasm or violence or anything else that she would normally use to communicate with Shikamaru. So, she forces herself to calm down, crosses her arms, and finishes her sentence. They don’t meet each other’s eyes. “But don’t pretend we aren’t friends.”

“Look, you have more important things to worry about and I already have plenty of people mother-henning me since Asuma was killed. I don’t need another, so just go home,” Shikamaru hisses and moves to close the front door, but before he can, Temari unsheathes her fan to stick it between the wooden door and its frame.

“I’m not leaving,” Temari insists despite the glare that Shikamaru shoots in her direction. “Even if I didn’t come here for you, Gaara sent me personally to pay respects to your sensei on behalf of Sunagakure. Asuma was a fine Jonin who did a lot of work that benefited both of our villages, so it’s only appropriate.”

“I guess it’s non-negotiable, then. Come on inside,” Shikamaru huffs and opens the door. Temari looks past him and into the house; it’s nice, large with dark wooden floors and rustic decor that her own parents would’ve enjoyed back when they were alive. Taking the open door as an invitation, Temari puts her fan away and walks into the Nara compound. Shikamaru shuts the door behind her. “Since the village is in disarray right now, you should probably stay here. We have an extra room. Hell, my mom’s making ramen right now, you interested? She always has extra for a friend.”

“Oh… Sure, I guess. Why not?” Temari nods, a little unsure.

She hasn’t had a dinner with a family, let alone her own, since before Gaara was born. Even back then, it was rare because of her father’s work. The memories are so blurry now that she’s not even sure they’re real. Part of her is jealous that Shikamaru gets to have this nice compound in the middle of nature with his normal, loving parents, but part of her is happy for him too. It’s good that he has the support during this trying time that she never got to.

Moments later, a man who she assumes to be Shikamaru’s dad (based on the identical hair, eyes, and face shape) walks from the kitchen to the living room, which is connected to the entryway that she and Shikamaru are currently standing in. He’s wearing a coat made of deerskin and gloves, and his face is covered in scars.

“Shikamaru, who’s this?” The tall, lanky Nara asks. “I didn’t know we were having a guest today, I would’ve cleaned up a bit.”

Temari looks around. The house is already fucking spotless.

“Dad, this is Temari, and Temari, this is my dad; Shikaku Nara,” Shikamaru introduces them.

“Shikamaru, is this that sand village girl you’ve been talking about?” Temari hears a woman’s voice, followed by said woman popping out of the kitchen much like Shikaku did moments before. Shikamaru’s mom is on the smaller side with long black hair and eyes that are the same color but a different shape than Shikamaru’s. “I’m so glad you finally brought her home, and to think I was getting scared you’d never bring a girl to meet us!”

Temari blushes, to which Shikamaru sighs.

“And that’s my mom, Yoshino Nara.”

“Dinner will be ready soon, why don’t you two go hang out for a bit while we finish cooking in here?” Yoshino offers.

“Okay, just let us know when dinner’s ready,” Shikamaru says, and then, he’s turning and walking down one of the few hallways connected to the living room.

Temari follows. They pass what looks like Shikamaru’s room with a shogi board set out in the middle. The board’s pieces are scattered about like Shikamaru was playing a game with someone that got interrupted.

“Shikamaru, how about a game of shogi?” Temari offers, knowing that it’s one of Shikamaru’s most enjoyed hobbies aside from watching clouds and spending time with his teammates. “It could help clear your mind.”

“No, I… That set up, it’s from the last game Asuma and I played. He had lunch with my family and I, and after that, we started this game but got called to a mission in the middle of it. I hadn’t had the time to reset it, but now… I can’t bring myself to. It’s one of the only things that I have left of him,” Shikamaru confesses. Temari’s stomach drops. Sure, she had no way of knowing, but now she feels bad for even asking about it… Not that Shikamaru wasn’t already thinking about Asuma, anyway. The two walk into the room, and Temari can’t help but stare down at the dusty shogi board. She thinks about how, just weeks before, Asuma and Shikamaru were casually playing, unaware of the fate that awaited them. When Shikamaru eventually cleans up the board and moves the pieces to their starting positions, Asuma’s dust-set fingerprints will be gone forever. “Proof that he was alive.”

“Shikamaru… It’s collecting dust.”

“I know, it was from a while ago,” Shikamaru stares down at the board just as Temari was moments before. There’s longing in his eyes, yearning for the world they lived in where Asuma was still alive. Such a short time ago. “I don’t know why I even told you that.”

Temari doesn’t know what to say, so for a few seconds, she doesn’t say anything. The two of them stare at the shogi board together as the sounds of Shikaku and Yoshino happily chatting and cooking together echo in the house.

“Hey,” Temari finally speaks after what feels like eternity. She places a hand on Shikamaru’s bare shoulder and flinches when she feels just how cold it is. But, when he looks at her, she offers a smile, because she doesn’t know how else to reassure him. “It’ll be okay.”

And in a heartbeat, Shikamaru places a hand on top of hers and lets out the shaky breath he was holding.

“I know.”

Dinner that night is awkward, to say the least. Shikaku is silent for the most part, clearly able to pick up on Shikamaru’s solemn mood. Yoshino, on the other hand, is either oblivious or just really bad at handling grieving people, because she spends the entire meal excitedly asking Temari questions and trying to make smalltalk with Shikamaru when the ravenette’s clearly in a different headspace than the rest of them.

The food is good, and Shikamaru’s parents are nice if not a little weird. Then again, most ninjas are weird. At least they’re better than Temari’s father was, and at least they’re alive. Temari retreats to her guest bedroom partway through the dinner with the excuse of being exhausted from her travels, which is only half-false. Exhaustion is nothing new to her and she could handle it if she really wanted to, but hearing Shikamaru’s parents casually talk about the funeral that’s supposed to happen for Asuma tomorrow had Temari uncomfortable beyond belief.

After catching a shower and gathering her thoughts, Temari listens for noise. It seems like the Naras have finished cleaning up their dinner and gone to bed for the night, so she creeps out of her guest room and goes to knock on Shikamaru’s door. Only, the door is already open and her knock pushes it further back to reveal that no one is in the room.

Where the hell could Shikamaru be at this late at night? There’s no way Lady Tsunade gave him a mission with Asuma’s funeral being tomorrow, so he must’ve gone out on his own… But why?

Temari puts on her shoes and a raincoat before looking out into the front yard through the living room window. Shikamaru is nowhere to be seen, but his shoes are by the door. Next, she looks to the backyard, which is where she finds him; pajamas soaked through by the falling rain, hair down, sat on the grass with a doe laying by his side and her fawn curled up in his lap.

Sighing, the blonde storms out through the back door and goes to Shikamaru, who doesn’t even react to her presence. He has a limp cigarette in his mouth that’s obviously been made unusable by the rain, but regardless of that, he keeps trying to light it back to life with the silver lighter in his hand.

“Shikamaru, why are you out here?” Temari demands. “You idiot, you’re going to get sick!”

“Have you ever thought about dying?”

Shikamaru doesn’t even look at her.

“...What?”

“I said, have you ever thought about dying, Temari?”

“Well, yes. Of course I have; you’d be a fool not to in our line of work,” Temari answers, taken aback by the question. She sits next to Shikamaru on the grass even though it’s wet and uncomfortable. Thunder booms in the background. “We could die any day. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. Even before Asuma died, there have been these times… I’ll be lying on the grass, staring at the clouds or with my team enjoying a meal. We’ll laugh and smile and tell stories together, and I’ll find myself stopping to think ‘if I die, will I lose this forever? Is there an afterlife? If so, is it good and do I still get to enjoy the things and the people that I love so much in this life? If not, what’s the point?’. There are even moments where our hands brush and I get that spark of electricity that jolts through my skin, and I wonder if after death it’s just this empty void where I’ll never get to feel that for you again.”

Hesitantly, Shikamaru reaches out. Temari holds his hand and intertwines their fingers. The ravenette’s skin is wet and clammy. But, just as he described, the electricity is there- just as it always has been.

“No one can answer that. It’s like you’ve said to me, why would you waste brain power on things you can’t figure out? Morality isn’t a problem for you to solve, it’s a part of life,” Temari says. “I’m sorry you’ve been put in this position.”

“Why are you here?”

“What?”

“You said your brother sent you to pay respects to Asuma on behalf of your village, right? You didn’t have to see me to do any of that. You could’ve just stayed in a hotel, talked to the Hokage, gone to the funeral, and gone home, but instead… You rushed to my side. Why?”

Temari debates on how to answer. She wants to lie, to stay guarded like she’s used to doing, but she knows that to get Shikamaru to open up, she has to open up a little too. So, she tells the truth.

“When my mother died, no one supported me. She was my best friend and she died, but I was stuck picking up the pieces for Kankuro and Gaara while my father worried about his duties as Kazekage,” Temari explains. She thinks to back then, to how she suddenly went from having a loving mother and a great relationship with Kankuro to feeling so alone and terrified. Even years after that, she spent most of her days worrying about whether or not Gaara would finally decide to snap and kill her up until he fought Naruto. “Then when my father died, we were all too busy putting the village back together and realigning with Konoha that I didn’t stop to think about it. Even though this is different, you deserve as many people to support you through this as you can possibly get, and… I get it. So, I rushed here. I didn’t even think about it.”

“I can’t get this cigarette to light,” Shikamaru complains, his voice cracking. Temari looks closer to see that he’s crying. There’s tears streaming down his cheeks and snot running from his nostrils. His eyes are puffy, and the sobs that come from between his chapped lips are loud and heart wrenching, but Temari can’t judge him. “No matter how many times I get the end to flicker back, the rain just keeps putting it out! I…”

“Shikamaru, that’s enough,” Temari firmly says and takes both the lighter and the cigarette from Shikamaru. The two deer get up and trot away to the forest at the back of the Nara compound as Temari pulls Shikamaru up off the ground. “Let’s get you inside.”

Temari walks Shikamaru inside, trying her best to ignore the trail of water they leave all over the nice hardwood floors. She hopes it dries well enough overnight for Shikamaru’s parents not to notice. After taking the ravenette to the bathroom, Temari goes to his room to grab him a change of clothes and a towel before joining him in the bathroom.

“I didn’t think you’d be the type of woman to take care of someone like this,” Shikamaru says as he undresses and dries himself off.

“I’m not, but you’re not just ‘someone’ to me,” Temari sighs and leans against the bathroom wall.

“This is embarrassing.”

Admittedly, the last thing Temari wants to do right now is stare at Shikamaru’s body. She’s always been curious about what his lanky form would look like underneath her much fuller one, how his delicate muscles would shift in reaction to her touches, but she’s seen him partially nude on joint missions enough times to be desensitized to it in a context like this. Plus, now that she’s running her emerald eyes over him, she thinks he’s lost weight from the stress. His collarbones are much more prominent than before, his chest appears somewhat sunken in, and she can see his top two ribs when he turns a certain way.

“Honestly, I’ve seen worse, and… You’re not bad looking.”

“Even though I’ve been bawling my eyes out for half an hour?” Shikamaru laughs as he changes into the clothes that Temari brought him, a t-shirt and loose boxers.

“Yeah, your face is only a little puffy. It’s not too bad, though you’d probably look a lot better if you slept. You’re getting bags under your eyes, and that is unsightly.”

“I know, I know, but I haven’t been able to sleep since…”

“Nightmares?”

“Nightmares.”

“Then you can sleep with me tonight,” Temari offers and grabs Shikamaru by the hand despite how his face turns strawberry red.

“But-!”

“I don’t care what it looks like or if it’s embarrassing or whatever. If you’re too prideful to reach out for help, Shikamaru, I’ll shove my way in and help you anyway,” Temari insists as they enter Shikamaru’s bedroom. They close the door and stumble through the dark to Shikamaru’s bed. While Shikamaru lies on the mattress on his back, Temari ditches her shoes, coat, and pants. “You clearly need to get some rest, and if having someone by your side will help, I really don’t care what the implication of sleeping with you is, you hear me?”

“...Yeah, I hear you.”

With that, Temari crawls in bed next to Shikamaru, who quickly turns to lay on his side and wraps his arms around Temari. She’s taken aback by the sudden touch, but she doesn’t complain as he buries his face in her chest and sighs. His whole body seems to relax.

Hesitantly, Temari wraps her arms around Shikamaru in return and asks-

“Are you okay?”

“Not yet.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No, thanks.”

“I’ll be here,” Temari says, because it’s the only way she’s figured out how to communicate her love to the man in front of her.

But, somehow, it seems like he’s already three steps ahead of her, because he responds-

“I love you, too.”

-and falls asleep.

#SandSibWeek #sand siblings #temari #shikamaru nara #shikatema #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden fanfiction #tw death #tw death mention #fluff and angst #fanfiction #oneshot #oneshots #drabble #drabbles

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edai-crplpnk · 1 year

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Sand Siblings Week - Day 3: Tradition/Innovation

I didn't get the time to write a fic this year so I'll be sharing snippets of my upcoming Sand Sib fic, Haemorrhage.

It was never fully peaceful between the three of them, but the friction never brushed deeper than the surface. Bickering and jealousy. Experimental pushing of the limits and nosiness. “Temari’s cheating!” “Why are you sitting next to Gaara and not me?” “Tell Kankurou it’s my time with the GameCube now, he won’t let me the controller!” Even after she was gone. “Temari stop fucking coming in without knocking!” “For God’s sake, Gaara, think before you say shit like this.” “Since when are you smoking? This is stupid. You better hope Dad doesn’t find out.” Sometimes, it still felt as if she was there. Like an invisible force was pulling their hands so they would eventually sort themselves out. Go to whoever had stormed out to their room with a word of apology. Make a cake for whenever they’d come back home from school. Let them choose the movie of the night and take half the space on the couch. Like, even in death, she was the glue keeping them together and aware that they were each other’s rock whatever the misfortune of the road.

#SandSibWeek #Kankuro #Gaara #Temari #Karura #Sand Siblings #snippet #my fic

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spellcasterlight · 1 year

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Hi there Xenodochial Xerus Anon! 😊

So yeah three people can’t have a gang bang because you need at least five people, and also that wouldn't be a threesome, so I had to get creative but I think I got there anyway! 😂

Hope you like it! ✨

The Purple Haze - [Kankuro x Kiba x Karui]

@sandsibweek - Sand Siblings Event Week

@kinky-things-happen - Tile 18: Gang Bang.

Warnings: Swearing. Drugging. Violence. Oral Sex. Graphic Sexual Scene.

Story Link: [Ao3🔗]

Ao3 ✨ |Story Request Bingo Cards 📖 | WIP Game Always Open ✒️| Ko-Fi ☕

#SandSibWeek #naruto smut #kankukibakarui #kankukiba #kibakanku #kankukarui #kibakarui #Kankuro #Kiba Inuzuka #Inuzuka Kiba #karui #thanks for the ask!#love to the anons!#love to the event mods!#Fanfic Request #asks are open!#kinkythingshappenbingo

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phlebaswrites · 2 years

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Growing Things (and People)

Summary:

Suna is a desert.

But things can still grow and bloom, even under the harshest sun.

Rating: General Audiences Fandom: Naruto, Boruto: Naruto Next Generations Relationship: Gen Word Count: 750 (Complete)

Entry for @sandsibweek

Day 1 - May 9: Village / Family

For @heyitswrenn who encouraged my idea of what Kankurō smells like, @dumbblossom who liked the imagery of my description, and @hellotheremaryrose who got all soft for Shinki and his uncle Kankurō.

This story is also for @bakapandy whose art is how I found out about Shinki in the first place.

Shinki has never known anything other than fear.

Fear of himself, fear of the people around him, it's defined his whole life.

When, terrified of the Kazekage, he'd lashed out, he'd known that he was giving up his life. To attack the strongest shinobi in Suna, Sabaku no Gaara himself... it was the stupidest move that he could have made, but he couldn't help it.

It was instinct, and he'd fully expected to die doing it.

To be held in a warm embrace instead, to be made an offer of teaching, eventually adoption - Shinki doesn't know what to make of it.

He'd said yes, of course he had. He wasn't about to add folly to idiocy after all.

But still, to trust this family is hard.

On days like this though, watching the foremost puppeteer in Suna sit on the steps of the engawa, head bent over a new puppet as curls of wood fall to the ground, it's somehow easier to believe.

Read the rest on AO3.

#SandSibWeek #Day 1 Prompt 2 #Prompt: Family #Phlebas Writes #Naruto #Boruto: Naruto Next Generations #Boruto #fanfiction #Story: Growing Things (and People)#Shinki #Gaara #Sabaku no Gaara #Kankurō #Temari #okay to reblog

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therantingfangirl · 2 years

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Happy Birthday, Kankurō

Summary: Just when everyone in his life, including Kankurō himself, forgot about his birthday, he gets a surprise visitor who is intent on making the most of his special day.

Author’s Note: this is insanely self-indulgent and I should apologize for it, but I won’t. For more information regarding my OC, read here.

Pairing: Kankurō/OC

Word Count: 4.8k

By the time that I found out about @sandsibweek I didn’t have enough time to write for all of the days, but I did everything that I could to write for my love's birthday. So here's my entry for Day 7: Birthday/Celebration.

Warnings: mild language, slightly pervy Kankurō, lots of fluff that I didn't intend when I started writing this, terrible father Rasa

After months spent in meetings with the village elders as they argued over who should be the next Kazekage, when it was so damn obvious to anyone with a brain, left Kankurō wanting to shut himself in his workshop alone for the rest of the night. He swore that if he had to hear one more person question Gaara’s validity to take the role one more time, he was going to lose his mind. As if they weren’t the ones who had decided to place Shukaku into his little brother. As if they weren’t the ones who allowed his father to alienate him from the rest of them. As if they hadn’t treated him like a monster. As if he hadn’t—

Kankurō shook his head, forcing the thought away before it could take root. But he couldn’t deny his own role in Gaara’s isolation and ostracization. He was just as guilty as the elders—if not more so, considering he was his little brother. He could’ve told his father to shove it and stuck close to his brother. He could’ve helped him. If Naruto Uzumaki, a complete stranger from a village that they were trying to invade, could’ve gotten through to Gaara, then he could’ve done so a long time ago. But he didn’t, and now he was left trying to make up for over a decade of keeping his brother at arm’s length so that he wouldn’t end up dead by his hand.

Which was probably why he had found himself becoming one of his biggest supporters when he decided that he wanted to fill the hole that their father’s death had left. Better Gaara than him. Better the one who hadn’t abandoned his sibling when he needed it the most. How was he supposed to run a damned village when he couldn’t even stand up to his father? No, Gaara would be the best fit. And it’s what he wanted. Kankurō wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep his mouth shut during Kage summits anyways. He was better off in the intelligence division anyways. Let him be the grunt that protected his village and his Kazekage—let him protect his brother in the way he hadn’t when they were children.

He ran a finger along the top of his workbench, mentally going over the different parts that he would need to fix Crow. He had gotten distracted during his last mission, sloppy even. One of his arms was bent at an odd angle and wouldn’t respond as normal to his chakra.

His gaze fell onto the origami Kankurō sitting on the corner of his workbench. The pieces of papers had been folded with care, each detail of his own face staring back at him so clearly. Even if his own hair had been replaced with what appeared to be tentacles, spiraling out from his scalp. A small smile appeared on his face as he recounted the events leading to the Amegakure villager handing her art to him.

“It seems odd that you’ve already met the woman who raised me and I don’t even know what you look like under that hood and war paint.” The redhead said, her hip popping out to the side as her lips formed into a delicate pout.

He had just met the blue-haired woman, likely only over a decade older than the girl she had raised, even though they had just met only days before. The woman, whom she had introduced as Konan, stood with the girl’s teammates, peering over the railing as they watched some creep from Konoha with bugs crawling out of his skin battle one of Orochimaru’s pawns.

“Eh?” Kankurō blinked, looking down at her. “Why do you care what is under the hood?” Sure, women had tried teasing the hood off of his head before, but when he challenged them on it, they would normally begin musing about how they believed he’d look like his father. And the thought delighted them. They wanted him to look like their Kazekage—to look like the man they thought was honorable and good. He never gave them the satisfaction of knowing that their musings were right—except for their impression of who his father was.

“I don’t know,” she responded after a moment with a shrug. “Is it scary? Is it even hair?”

“Of course, it’s hair!” he frowned, pushing off the wall so that his body faced hers. That was a first. “What the hell else would it be?”

“Tentacles” Kurono decided with a firm nod. “Or spikes, maybe even a fin?”

“Tentacles?” Kankurō barked out a laugh. “You actually believe that instead of hair, I have tentacles growing from my head?”

“Anything could happen, Kitty.”

“What would that even look like?” he mused. Either this girl had seen some messed-up shit in her time, or she had an incredible imagination.

She grinned and stuck her hand out. Her brows knit together in concentration and slips of paper shot out of the pouch on the outside of her thigh, flying into her hand and folding in on themselves until all that was left was a paper rendition of Kankurō’s head. The only difference in her muse and her creation was that his hood was gone and where hair should be, tentacles shot out in every direction. She smiled at it, clearly pleased with herself, before handing it to him.

“This is the weirdest gift anyone has ever given me,” he admitted, staring down at it. Despite his words, he grinned down at the sheets of paper and his eyes shone down at his likeness. The rendering was exact to the smallest detail, even the slight indentions that represented his face paint were perfectly placed. It was the weirdest, yet most thoughtful gift he had ever been given.

Kankurō tilted his head to the side as he stared at it. He remembered putting the paper sculpture on his nightstand just a month before, and he hadn’t touched it since. He had looked at the rendering almost every day for the last ten months, and he knew that the original was made out of white paper, not this gray shade staring back at him. His head snapped up, dark eyes flickering around his bedroom when he saw movement and a splash of red from the corner of his eye.

He flexed his fingers, conjuring his chakra strings and letting them spill out across the room. “Just one question,” he started, turning slowly as he looked towards his bed, his strings snaking around the furniture and circling around a thin wrist, “what the hell are you doing in Suna?” He curled his finger, yanking the chakra string back towards him.

The string grew taut with the effort and a tanned arm came shooting out from behind the bed. A familiar yelp sounded out from the area before the owner of the voice jumped up from her hiding spot. Her strands of red hair splayed out around her with the motion. She rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes tightly shut as her lips were split into an apologetic smile.

“I asked you a question, you know.”

Her hand froze and her eyes slowly opened. Sparkling amber eyes slowly flicked over his body, taking in whatever differences she could see had transpired in his appearance since the chunin exams. He took the moment of her appraisal to look her over himself.

Not that she had changed too much. Same height, even though he had grown by five centimeters. Her forehead must have only reached his chest now. Her arm came back down to her side, her hand fitting onto the dip of her hip. Her middle finger rested lightly on her bare stomach, just to the side of her belly button. Her outfit had changed since the chunin exams, the black dress that had only covered the right side of her body was gone and replaced by a sleeveless, mesh turtle neck, covered by a gray vest that could hardly be considered an actual covering. White wrappings decorated her right thigh, right underneath the pouch she kept her slips of paper in. She wore the same shinobi-standard shoes, yet they were thigh high and had an inch of fishnets peeking out above them. Her hitai-ate was affixed around her bicep. Her sword was nowhere in sight, but he was sure she likely had stored it in a scroll—that weapon had been a deadly extension of her arm during the chunin exams and there was no way she had stopped using it.

She straightened up under his scrutiny, the movement making her chest stick out even more than they did when she was relaxed. His gaze stayed on the area, marking the way they heaved with her sigh.

“Eyes are up here, Kitty.” She snapped along with her words, her fingers waving up towards her face.

Slowly, he dragged his eyes back up to meet her eyes. He gave her a lazy grin as she rolled her eyes at him. He released her wrist from the chakra strings and drew them back to him. “You know, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Ah,” she hummed. “That. Yes. I was nearby.”

“You just happened to be near Suna?”

“Uh huh.”

“Why?”

“Does it matter?”

Kankuro shook his head at her slowly. “I guess not.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What are you doing in my room?”

She huffed loudly, her lips forming a pout once again. She bent over his bed and moved his pillow to the side, revealing a purple origami rendering of himself tucked up against the other pillow. “I was trying to hide sixteen of these, but I only managed to get three tucked away before you got back.”

“Sixte—” he blinked slowly as a surprised laugh fell from his lips. Right, it was May 15th. He had completely forgotten himself—he had spent all day so far surrounded by his family and the elders and not one person had even remembered enough to mention it. “So you came all this way and snuck into my bedroom just to hide origami sculptures of me for my birthday?”

“You only turn sixteen once, right?” she raised her eyebrows at him with a grin. “Besides, you spent my seventeenth with me, so I may as well spend your sixteenth with you.”

“Ah, but that was an accident so it—”

She cut him off by bumping him with her hip. “Okay, so you didn’t know it was my birthday when you sat down to have lunch with me, but once you knew, you did spend the rest of the day with me, even when the twins completely forgot.” She plucked the origami sculpture from his pillow and flicked out her wrist. The papers slid out from the palm of her hand and flew back to the workbench, folding back carefully into his rendering. “You should’ve been gone longer. It would’ve given me the time I needed.”

“Sorry that I came back to my room.”

“As you should be. Now, come on, show me around your village.”

Kankurō raised an eyebrow at her, letting his hands fall onto his hips. “It’s my birthday and you want me to escort your ass around my village?”

“Well, it’s not like I know it.” She huffed and rolled her shoulders back at him. “I’ll perch myself on your arm and make all the girls jealous.” She tapped her fingers alongside his bicep before hooking her arm in his. She patted the spot she had tapped and gave it a soft squeeze. “I’ll ooo and ah over these muscles and say how chivalrous you are.”

“I’ll show you around.” He shook his head at her and turned around, dragging her with him. “No need to ooo and ah, all right?”

“Deal.” She began to unhook her arm from his, but he held firm, keeping them connected. She grinned before gesturing in front of them. “Lead the way.”

Kankurō wasn’t even entirely sure what it was that she would want to see, but he guessed that he hadn’t known what she would want to do during the chunin exams on her birthday, but he had figured it out in the end. He led her out of the Kazekage palace and back out to the village. She looked around at their surroundings, that grin never once leaving her face. Her head was tilted back, just slightly as if she couldn’t bear to risk losing the feeling of the sun against her skin.

“Hey, Red?”

“Hmm?” she looked up at him from under her lashes, though she didn’t slow her pace at all.

“How did you get into the village? Or into my bedroom?”

“Ah. Yes, that one you should probably take up with your village. They didn’t even blink at my slips of paper flying over the gates and right to the Kazekage palace.”

“And how did you know how to get to my room?”

A light dusting of pink flushed up from underneath her shirt and up her cheeks. “Oh, I just kept going into rooms until I found it.”

“And how did you know it was mine?

She rolled her eyes at him, giving his arm a soft pat. “The puppets kinda gave it away, Kitty.”

“I guess they would,” he conceded quietly. “Just looked for the creepiest room you could find then, eh?”

Kurono frowned up at him, the first time since she had shown up in his room that she dropped that grin. “Your puppets aren’t creepy.”

His steps faltered and she halted immediately. Most people—especially girls—said that his puppets gave them the creeps. The majority of them would complain when he brought them out.

“Do you think Benihime is creepy?”

“Benihime?” he blinked back down at her.

She sighed slightly. “My sword, Kankurō.”

“Well, no.” Kankurō turned to fully face her. He didn’t care that they were standing in the middle of the walkway. “It’s a sword. It’s an extension of you, and it’s your weapon. There’s nothing creepy about it.”

“My sword has a second blade that pops out from the handle and decapitates my opponent,” she reminded him dryly.

Not that he could forget—he didn’t think that anyone could forget the way she had lost it during the prelims and killed that Otogakure nin she had gone up against. How when his neck was being held by her two blades, not quite meeting to decapitate him yet, her chakra had gathered exponentially and her eyes had turned into something that no longer looked human. How she had clawed at his face when he growled something out at her, and then the two blades had closed with a flick of her wrist. How she had thrown his head at the proctor and yelled at him about how he should’ve called the match. He thought that the Konoha ninja were going to lose their shit at her brutality—but she was right, the proctor hadn’t called the fight when she had clearly won.

Kurono slid her arm out from his and stepped in front of him so that they were facing one another. She poked the space between his pecs, narrowing her large eyes up at him. “Just as Benihime is an extension of my arm, your puppets are an extension of you. They are your weapons, your means of survival. Each one is crafted for a different purpose, and they help you defend your village. They help you survive your fights. So they’re not cute, who fucking cares? Missions aren’t pretty. Battle isn’t delicate. Personally, I’d rather have a weapon that makes my opponent want to shit their pants than one that will make them doubt my capabilities.” She made her fingers walk up his chest and neck, letting them land on his chin and tapping there. “And it makes you look pretty badass, if I say so myself.”

This woman.

Her bright eyes flicked behind him, catching on something over his shoulder. “Is that what the girls in Suna think? That your puppets are creepy?”

“Why do you thi—” he followed her gaze. A group of girls he had graduated the Academy with were gathered behind them, whispering to one another as they tried to discreetly look at Kurono and him. Not that they were discreet or subtle in the slightest.

Hands slid over his neck and onto his shoulders. With slight pressure on his shoulders, Kurono propped herself up on her tiptoes and brushed her nose alongside the side of his neck, right below his ear.

“What are you do—”

The redhead slid her fingers back down his back and let them fall against the tufts of Crow’s hair peeking out from his holder. Her cheek rested lightly against his neck and her fingers intertwined with Crow’s hair.

She clucked her tongue before sliding back onto flat feet, withdrawing her hands from him and his puppet. “You can do better than them.”

He blinked back down at her. His mind was still reeling from her touch. How long had it been since he had been touched with so much familiarity? It had been years since a girl had tried to touch him like that—all up until the moment she found out that Gaara was his little brother. Back then, it was because they were all too afraid that getting too close to Kankurō meant that they would end up buried under sand. Now, the few times he had a woman want to get close to him it was because she wanted to get close to Gaara.

“They were intrigued by the way I touched you until I touched Crow. One girl scrunched her nose up in distaste, another made a face as if she would puke.” Kurono sighed heavily, staring back at the girls behind them. She narrowed her eyes into a glare at them. “I can fight them for your honor, you know.”

A surprised laugh escaped his lips. He smiled down at her and cupped the back of her head in his hand. “I don’t need anyone fighting for my honor, least of all you, Red.”

Kurono frowned just slightly up at him before loosening a breath. “Fine. Fine. But don’t say I never offered.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

At his words, her face split back into a grin. She tucked her arm back in his and began to drag him forward. “Come on, birthday boy, let’s get you some dinner.”

It was hours later, after Kurono had dragged him around to different shops and restaurants that he had been about a million times in his life, that he found himself sitting on top of the Kazekage palace next to the redhead. The sun had gone down about an hour before, around the same time that she had suggested that they find somewhere to just sit together. She told him to close his eyes as she dug her hand back into one of the bags she had procured at one of the shops they had stopped at.

“You’re not really going to make me—”

Kurono’s free hand swung forward, coming to cover his eyes. “Kurono,” he grunted, rolling his eyes at her antics.

“Just humor me!”

Kurono shuffled beside him before something was placed in his lap. “Okay. Keep your eyes closed, I need both of my hands.” She pealed back just her top two fingers. Her face was pressed close to his. “Kankurō!” she growled as his eyes met hers. “Close.”

He chuckled quietly, letting his eyes fall closed to appease the girl.

“Good boy.”

Kurono settled back down beside him, the sounds of her shuffling around filling the air. He felt a brush of heat near his torso just as she said, “Open!”

Kankurō opened his eyes, immediately focusing his gaze on whatever she had dropped onto his lap. A sponge cake sat in his lap, decorated with sixteen candles that were lit. He blinked slowly down at the dessert, trying to figure out when she could have possibly made the time to buy him the cake. He had been there the whole time, hadn’t he?

“Happy birthday, Kitty,” she whispered, lightly flicking on of the cat ears on his hitai-ate hood.

“When did you—”

A devious grin appeared on her face. Her fingers flexed at her side and slips of paper flooded out from her pouch on her thigh. They gathered behind the girl, coming together to create another version of herself. “Clones can buy baked goods when it’s necessary.” Both versions of the girl stared at him with shining eyes and bright smiles. And he just stared back. How did this girl, whom he had only met ten months ago, care enough to visit him on his birthday and take the time to buy him a cake? His own family didn’t celebrate his birthday. And he knew that he had bought her some food on her birthday during the exams, but they had been in proximity of each other. It was only natural that he would celebrate with her. But she had come here with a plan. Her teammates weren’t with her, so she wasn’t on an actual mission. She just genuinely wanted to be with him for his birthday.

Slowly, her clone disappeared into her pouch and her smile softened at him. The small bit of light from the candles lit up her face, softening her sometimes harsh features. She ducked her head, fixing her gaze back onto the cake in his lap. She cleared her throat quietly. “But you should blow out your candles before they melt into the cake. Don’t forget to make a wish!”

Right. The cake.

He tore his gaze away from her. He closed his eyes once again, and for once, he wasn’t sure if there was anything else he would wish for. He thought for a moment before thinking Don’t take her away from me before blowing out the candles.

She cheered loudly beside him, causing him to open his eyes to look back at her. She took the cake from his lap and made quick work of the candles. She tugged a kunai loose from her thigh holster and used it to cut the cake in half. She hummed to herself and handed him a fork. “Eat up.”

For once, he didn’t even try to argue with her as he dug in. They ate their pieces in silence, taking in the cool, night air. When she was finished, she leaned back on her hands and let out a deep breath. “Well,” she said after a moment, “now it’s almost just like my birthday. We’re just missing two things.”

They had sat on top of the Hokage mountain for hers, though he hadn’t gotten her a cake. Besides that, he wasn’t entirely sure what else she could want. He lowered himself onto his back and tilted his head to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Hood,” she said, extending her hand out to him, “gimme.”

“I believe that was your birthday gift.”

“Well, we’ll make it yours.”

“I don’t think you know how birthdays work. A gift is supposed to be something you want, Sweetheart.”

“Oh, I know. And I happen to know that you want to take it off.”

“You’re so sure of yourself there?” he chuckled, rolling onto his side to face his entire body to her.

“Mhmm.” She reached her hand out further, fingertips sliding into his hood. “I’ll put it on again.”

Fuck. He had liked the way she had looked with it on her head. He let out a defeated sigh and tilted his head towards her so she could fully drag it off of him.

He was rewarded with a soft smile in return before she tugged it off of him and plopped it unceremoniously onto her own head. She slid her fingers back up to his head, letting them lightly brush through his hair. She fixed the strands that had been flattened by the hood for a full minute until she let her hand fall back to her side, seemingly satisfied.

“What was the other thing missing?” he asked her quietly.

“Well, last time, we did almost kiss.”

How the hell had he forgotten?

Kurono tilted her head to the side and looked up at him, amber eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. He hadn’t intended for her to get emotional—hadn’t realized that a simple pair of earrings as a birthday gift would’ve brought her to tears. But there she was.

She immediately tugged the black studs out of her lobes to replace them with the dangly purple gems he had found. The studs were dropped into the pouch on her thigh without a second thought. She procured her kunai and brought it up to her face, checking out her reflection in the blade.

“I love them,” she whispered to him.

And then she lowered her kunai and angled her face towards his. She rested her hand on his chest and whispered a quiet, “thank you.” She began lifting her head closer to his own, just as he realized her intentions.

Without a second thought, he ducked his head down to meet her. His lips hovered over hers, just about grazing them. And then she squeaked out and pulled back quickly. “S-sorry,” she stuttered out. “I have to go!” and without another word, her skin peeled back into strips of paper that were sent soaring over his head and into the air, far away from him.

“Ah, right. What stopped you that time, anyways?”

She hummed quietly, looking away from him. “A crow.”

Out of all of the things she could’ve said, a crow, had not been what he would’ve guessed.

“A bird stopped you from kissing me?”

A quiet laugh spilled from her lips. She turned to look back at him with a shy grin. “There aren’t any crows here tonight. I checked.” She raised her hand and rested it on the side of his head just as she raised her torso up until their faces were close to one another.

“Oh?”

Kankurō cleared his throat just slightly. “Well, that’s good,” he mumbled.

Great choice of words, really.

She laughed quietly and gave his head a soft tug towards her. Her nose brushed the side of his and her lips inched closer to his, just slightly grazing his top lip.

“There you are!”

“Where the fuck have you been all day, Kuro?”

Two male voices yelled out from the ground below.

“But evidently, there are teammates,” she mumbled against his lips. She sighed and pulled back away from him, head tilting to look down at where the twins stood.

Kankurō inwardly cursed their appearance. He squinted down at them—not that he could make much out from their height. Just two blond heads and waving arms.

“Would you two just wait?”

“You said that you would only need a few hours!”

“Well, I needed more!”

“We need to get going, woman!”

Kurono grunted quietly and got to her feet. “Rain check on that kiss?”

Kankurō took a deep breath and stood up. “Yeah, of course,” he grunted out.

The redhead smiled just slightly up at him. She got onto her tiptoes and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. She slid his hood back onto his head, her lips still resting against his skin. When she pulled back, he could see purple paint smearing over her lips.

On instinct, he raised his thumb up and wiped the color off of her lips. “It’s a nice shade on you, you know.”

Her eyes danced under the moonlight. “Oh, I can imagine,” she mused, in a tone that implied she could think of a few places the color would look good.

She would be the death of him, he was sure of it.

Kurono patted his cheek softly, whispering, “happy birthday, Kankurō.”

“See you around, Red.”

She smiled brightly up at him and stepped backwards, right off of the roof of the palace. Just like that day all those months ago, her skin pealed back and the slips of paper flew down to join her teammates. He could see, just barely, as she threw her arms around the boys and began leading them down the road. He couldn’t see much, but he didn’t miss how after a moment her limbs withdrew from the two and her fingers came up to her lips, and they lingered there for the rest of her walk out of his village.

Kankurō fell back against the rooftop and stared at the few crumbs remaining of their cake. And he had to admit to himself, he had spent his birthday much better than he would have if he had just shut himself up in his workshop to fix Crow. And if he was being fully honest, he would admit that spending his birthday with Kurono had made it the best birthday he had ever had.

Kurono tag list, even though they never asked for it: @mortyvongola2-0 @nightingaleflow and @justmyownreality

#SandSibWeek #naruto #kankuro #kurono uzumaki #naruto oc #Kankuro x oc #oc x canon #Kankuro fanfiction #Naruto oc fanfiction #happy birthday kankuro

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nightingaleflow · 2 years

Text

The Best Birthday

Summary: Kankuro’s girlfriend remembers his birthday.

Rating: G Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Kankuro/OC Word Count: 651

Entry for @sandsibweek Day 7: Birthday/Celebration

A/N: Happy birthday to our favorite puppet master, Kankuro!

It occurred to me that Kankuro and his siblings probably didn't do birthdays growing up due to Rasa's A+ parenting, so I wrote a quick little drabble following to the effect.

It's an idea I think I'll be returning to later, but for now, enjoy. <3

The morning of May 15 rolled around. Sayaka woke up with the sun, turning off the alarm clock before it even went off. She raced down the stairs and immediately got to work. She had already started cleaning the day before, so the house was mostly spotless already. She still double checked everything, carefully cleaning a few specks of dust and debris she’d missed.

Once she was satisfied with the level of cleanliness, she pulled out a purple tablecloth and covered the dining room table with it. She followed that up with little swirls of confetti around the table and a colorful banner she hung at the top of the doorway. She pulled a present from the closet, a large box wrapped in gold paper and red ribbon, and set it on a chair at the head of the table.

She had just pulled a cake from the fridge when she heard a knock at the door. She quickly set it on the table and hurried to the drawer where she’d stashed the candles. She stabbed the cake with them as fast as she could, then hurried to the door.

Kankuro’s smiling face greeted her. “Fancy meeting you here,” he teased.

“Who else were you expecting?” Sayaka asked as she let him inside.

“Oh, I don’t know. I heard the most beautiful girl in the world lived here and had to see for myself.”

Sayaka chuckled. “And did you find her?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Kankuro said, giving her a peck on the cheek. He then paused, his eyes landing on the banner. As he stepped further in, he could see the cake and decorations on the table. He turned curiously towards her. “Sayaka? What’s all this?”

She rubbed her arm. “Happy birthday,” she said, smiling sheepishly.

Read the rest on AO3

#Sand Siblings Week #SandSibWeek #Kankuro #Kankuro x OC #Sand Siblings #fanfiction #writing #my writing #nightingale writes #birthday #happy birthday Kankuro

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iantoyawrites · 2 years

Text

Lucky Rain

Written for the @sandsibweek 2022 challenge!

Prompt for Day 4, May 12, War.

Word Count: 2.2k (Complete)

Gen or Pre-Slash

Summary: Gaara is feeling anxious about his role of Commander-in-Chief of the entire regiment for the Fourth Great Shinobi War. He has an encounter with someone unexpected and lowers his guard to unburden his worries and doubts. He gets inspiration for how he will address the regiments and unite them together.

“Hell-o? Hello? Oh! Lord Gaara, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize this was your tent.”

#sand siblings #gaara #chojuro #mizukage #kazekage #my fic post #naruto #fic challenge #SandSibWeek #Day 4 Prompt 1 #Prompt War #gen fic

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sentinelpri · 1 year

Text

Single

May 10th, Day 2: Reunion/Parting @sandsibweek

Temari and Shikamaru’s wedding isn’t exactly Kankuro’s scene, if he’s being honest. As someone who’s been pathetically single for the past- well, forever- seeing so many happy couples on the dancefloor makes him feel insecure and awkward in a way that he’s never had to experience before.

Then again, he’s happy for his sister, who’s finally found love and happiness after wasting her formative years taking care of him and Gaara. She deserves to have this, so he plasters on a smile and hypes her up for the event, only reflecting on his own feelings when he finds himself sitting alone at the reception.

Most of the tables are grouped in sixes with the assigned seats, three couples to each table. Kankuro sees Naruto and Hinata, Ino and Sai, Choji and Karui, Kakashi and Guy, Anko and Ibiki, Baki and Genma, Kotetsu and Izumo, Hanabi and Konohamaru… It seems like the place is flocked with couples, with Shikamaru and Temari at their own head table, starting to slice the cake.

At Kankuro’s table is pretty much everyone who came without a plus one; himself, Tenten, Gaara, Rock Lee, Sakura, and Kiba. Though Tenten, Sakura, and Rock Lee get along and chat away easily, Kankuro sits there silently, his dark brown eyes flickering between Kiba (who is distracted by Akamaru) and Gaara (who is staring at Lee).

Kankuro holds his head in his hands. The cake is served, and it tastes of strawberries and vanilla that blends well with the white champagne he has sitting in the flute in front of him. Tenten and Sakura stand up and go to chat with Ino and Sai, which is somewhat of a relief. Kankuro isn’t socially awkward by any means, but he prefers his siblings’ company more than anyone else’s, so being almost-alone with Gaara isn’t too bad…

At least until Lee excitedly drags a blushing, stammering Gaara onto the dance floor.

While Akamaru takes a nap on the floor beneath Kiba’s chair, Kankuro and Kiba are left alone. The two men glance at each other, and Kankuro’s heart skips a beat much faster than it should.

Memories of the war flash through his mind. Memories of staying together in the middle of nowhere, covered in dirt and sharing a tent, curious hands roaming bodies and lips roaming lips because ‘why not, we could die soon anyway’. And maybe inexperienced teenagers having sex for the sake of doing it before dying at the hands of the Akatsuki was all they were back then, but Kankuro would be lying if he said his feelings for the Inuzuka hadn’t gone a little deeper back then.

Now, those feelings are resurfacing even though it’s been literal years and Kiba looks much, much different now. The younger man’s brown locks have grown out to just above his shoulders, and he has the beginnings of a sharp beard on his pointed chin. Though the red marking on his face and that familiar look in his narrow obsidian eyes remains the same, he’s different; taller and more muscular, too.

“So, looks like we’re all alone, huh?” Kiba starts, taking the words right out of Kankuro’s mouth. “What a coincidence… Just us two again after all these years.”

“Yeah…” Kankuro mutters, because while he would usually be able to hold conversations with people in a social setting like this, Kiba is wonderful at turning Kankuro’s brain to mush. “What a coincidence.”

Akamaru suddenly stands up and runs off. Kiba is too distracted to command him to stop, so the big white dog rushes through the dancefloor, effectively tripping Gaara, who falls into Lee’s chest. Lee catches him right as Akamaru steals Baki’s cake and steps on Genma’s shoes. The chaos he causes has half the reception room cursing, but when Kankuro looks to see Temari and Shikamaru laughing their asses off and asking the photographer to get pictures of the scene Akamaru is causing, he doesn’t bother telling Kiba to wrangle the cute mutt.

“You still single?” Kiba asks as Akamaru runs back to him, brown nose covered in white frosting and strawberry cake crumbs that he probably shouldn’t have had.

“Uh, yeah,” Kankuro answers with a blush that he hopes is well-hidden by his face paint. Though he’s not at all disappointed that Kiba seems to be on the same page as him, he is surprised at the other man’s straightforwardness. “I haven’t really… Bothered, y’know, since after what we had during the war. How about you?”

Kiba smiles.

“Me, too.”

And suddenly, being one of the few single people at this wedding isn’t as bad as Kankuro thought it was.

“Hey, everyone, it’s time for the bouquet toss!” Temari calls out, much cheerier than usual on her happy day.

Kiba stands up with Akamaru happily trotting up next to him.

“Wanna come with?” Kiba offers and nods his head towards where Temari is standing on a platform with the bouquet of white jasmines in her hands.

“Sure,” Kankuro nods and follows Kiba to the crowd that’s gathered behind Temari.

Then, the bouquet is tossed. It soars past the front of the crowd and past the middle to the back where Kankuro and Kiba are. Kankuro has never cared much for traditions like this, but he does make an attempt at catching it, only to see that Kiba is also reaching for it when Akamaru suddenly jumps up and puts his paws on the Inuzuka’s back. Kiba stumbles and falls forward, still catching the bouquet but about to hit the ground. Kankuro rushes to catch him, only for it to backfire. Kiba falls into his chest and knocks him onto his back. Their faces brush, and their lips are smashed together for the first time in five years.

One of Kankuro’s hands wraps around the bouquet to make sure it doesn’t fall and get crushed in this clusterfuck of shit, but when he opens his eyes, he sees that one; both he and Kiba have caught the bouquet, and two; there’s a circle of all the reception guests made around them, staring, laughing, and talking about what’s just happened.

To make the situation even worse, that knucklehead Naruto is behind them taking pictures and laughing his ass off. Temari rushes over to make sure they’re both okay while Shikamaru and his best man, Choji, snicker at the display over two glasses of champagne.

Kiba jumps up with the bouquet in hand and grabs Kankuro by the arm to pull him up

“I’m so sorry, man, are you okay!?” Kiba asks, then turns to Akamaru before Kankuro can even answer and scolds him. “Akamaru, why would you do that? I can’t believe you!”

Akamaru lets out a noise that sounds like a laugh, or maybe a snort. He lowers his head with a guilty expression.

“I’m fine, but you know, you should really train that dog of yours a little better!” Kankuro chuckles and reaches down to scratch Akamaru’s chin.

To his surprise, Akamaru leans into the touch and licks his hand.

The crowd disperses and slowly starts to leave the reception. Kankuro and Kiba linger behind, going back to their lonely little table. Tenten and Sakura are dancing together, and Lee and Gaara have fucked off to God knows where together. The other couples have either left or are sitting at their own tables. Temari and Shikamaru go around to thank the remaining guests for attending, Temari with an arm over Shikamaru’s shoulder.

“You haven’t danced at all today,” Kiba says, but it’s not true.

“I did, too! Remember when I danced with Temari and Gaara earlier? It was part of the ceremony,” Kankuro explains in reference to the ‘father daughter dance’, which he and Gaara offered to do with Temari in Rasa’s place so she wouldn’t have to cut it out of the ceremony entirely.

They walked her down the aisle, too. Kankuro briefly wonders if their parents’ absence on a day like this is bothering Temari at all, but then he looks over to her and sees her and Shikamaru still beaming at each other.

“Oh, right, but that’s not what I meant,” Kiba says with a dismissive wave. “I meant you haven’t danced since the reception started.”

“Well, no one’s asked me to,” Kankuro shrugs.

“Then I guess I’ll have to bite the bullet and do it myself,” Kiba grins, then stands up and offers Kankuro his hand. “Wanna dance, Kankuro?”

“...Sure, Kiba. For old time’s sake.”

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