[Fic][present] Beautiful ....
A little present for a friend. 5 year old Kankurou.
It wasn’t fair! He was not crying either, damn it. He was five years old and he did not cry and he did swear. His eye hurt like crazy, it was already swelling shut, and he was not going to go home - not with that girl there. Who did she think she was? She might be older than him, but he was the first born son, damn it. She was just a girl! So how was it that they had been able to beat him up, but she had jumped in and ‘saved her little brother’ as she so arrogantly boasted?
She was only one year older! It was not fair! She was a girl!
He ran around a corner, leaning back against the mud brick building, far on the outskirts of Suna. His breath was hard, his chest burning from the dry desert heat, the only world he had ever known. So much of Suna was vacant now, uninhabited. The population had taken so much damage in the wars and then when … when that thing they insisted was his brother was born - that thing that killed his mother.
He was the first born son of the Kazekage, damn it, and he did not cry!
He ducked into a building, no different than any of the other houses out here, long since abandoned. No one had bothered to take things from it - he knew that meant the owners were dead. Something was strange with this house though, the sand hadn’t invaded it. No door sealed well enough, no window was tight enough to keep the desert out for long. Something was …
The door to the bedroom opened much too easily, not a creak, no sign of neglect and inside … oh, inside there were things, glorious, beautiful things. The young boy walked past the carved wood and bone, the glorious creations hung ever so carefully here, his very soul drawn to a dark figure in the center of the room.
Three eyes, rough dark hair, and limbs, oh so many glorious and beautiful limbs. The pain he had felt was forgotten as the boy ran his hands over this beautiful thing. Oh, he was the kazekage’s son, he had seen puppets before, but this … oh, this one was incredible. His hands ran along it’s joints, feeling how responsive they were, as if it wanted to move for him. He looked up at it, both hands pressed to its chest.
“Its name is Karasu.”
He jerked, looking back at the door - the old hag stood there, the figure they whispered about, who wasn’t human, but everyone called, “Chiyobaasan …”
“He will be yours - if you learn how to master him.”
As he heard his guards approach, she took the puppet down, and then she was gone. He stood there, speechless as the guards burst in, looking for their young lord. He didn’t say anything as he was taken back to the palace; no … he was too busy thinking. Karasu. Someday Karasu would be his.”
It wasn’t fair! He was not crying either, damn it. He was five years old and he did not cry and he did swear. His eye hurt like crazy, it was already swelling shut, and he was not going to go home - not with that girl there. Who did she think she was? She might be older than him, but he was the first born son, damn it. She was just a girl! So how was it that they had been able to beat him up, but she had jumped in and ‘saved her little brother’ as she so arrogantly boasted?
She was only one year older! It was not fair! She was a girl!
He ran around a corner, leaning back against the mud brick building, far on the outskirts of Suna. His breath was hard, his chest burning from the dry desert heat, the only world he had ever known. So much of Suna was vacant now, uninhabited. The population had taken so much damage in the wars and then when … when that thing they insisted was his brother was born - that thing that killed his mother.
He was the first born son of the Kazekage, damn it, and he did not cry!
He ducked into a building, no different than any of the other houses out here, long since abandoned. No one had bothered to take things from it - he knew that meant the owners were dead. Something was strange with this house though, the sand hadn’t invaded it. No door sealed well enough, no window was tight enough to keep the desert out for long. Something was …
The door to the bedroom opened much too easily, not a creak, no sign of neglect and inside … oh, inside there were things, glorious, beautiful things. The young boy walked past the carved wood and bone, the glorious creations hung ever so carefully here, his very soul drawn to a dark figure in the center of the room.
Three eyes, rough dark hair, and limbs, oh so many glorious and beautiful limbs. The pain he had felt was forgotten as the boy ran his hands over this beautiful thing. Oh, he was the kazekage’s son, he had seen puppets before, but this … oh, this one was incredible. His hands ran along it’s joints, feeling how responsive they were, as if it wanted to move for him. He looked up at it, both hands pressed to its chest.
“Its name is Karasu.”
He jerked, looking back at the door - the old hag stood there, the figure they whispered about, who wasn’t human, but everyone called, “Chiyobaasan …”
“He will be yours - if you learn how to master him.”
As he heard his guards approach, she took the puppet down, and then she was gone. He stood there, speechless as the guards burst in, looking for their young lord. He didn’t say anything as he was taken back to the palace; no … he was too busy thinking. Karasu. Someday Karasu would be his.”