Far away from home, Kankuro contemplates life, and love. Warning, can be taken as a death fic, also death with yaoi relationships. Shoritsh. This fic was written for Ru_Shin as a part of last...
Fat wet flakes of snow flitted down in a gentile vortex, swirling in random patterns, and landing on Sabaku no Kankuro's face. This was the first time he'd ever seen the snow, and he thought it was not such a bad sight to end his life with.
The air was frigid, and the ground upon which he lay was thick with the mounding ice crystals. It seemed the only warmth to be found was his own blood seeping slowly about him, spreading like macabre wings to carry him to the next life.
Kankuro had once been told that when one dies their life passes before their eyes. When first he heard this the assumption that the replaying of his life would be rapid, or instantaneous, set itself in his head. The slow remembrances -regrets- that came to mind now were not quite what he had expected.
He remembered Temari, his sister and childhood playmate. He remembered all the times she'd kicked his butt in games, and in training. He remembered how she took care of him when he was sick or hurt. He remembered how she made breakfast for the three of them when they were all there to enjoy it. Kankuro wished he could eat another of Temari's burnt fish cakes.
He remembered Gaara, his baby brother, and the young man that frightened him more then anything else in the whole world. He remember his brother's sad eyes, and the few time they had played as children. He remembered his brother's resolution, his wish to change and become better. He remembered every whispered secret Gaara ever told him in the dead of night. Kankuro wished he could hear another.
He remembered the Suna, his father, the Go-Kyodai. He remembered Karasu, his beloved puppet, and turned his head to see it's miserable remains not too far away. It was such a shame, his favourite tool destroyed like that. Kankuro recalled all of the hard work he'd put into upgrading, and improving the old puppet. All the hours spent making the poisons, and other weapons all himself. Polishing, fixing, painting, sharpening. Kankuro wished Karasu was whole once more.
He remembered Konoha too. The first time he'd been there; being amazed at all of the trees, animals, and life surrounding the place. He remembered that brat Naruto, how loud and annoying he was, and how he changed...no...helped Gaara. All of the leaf-nin faces came to mind, though mostly in passing until one face finally settled behind his eyes.
Full body coughs disturbed him, and pain seared through his body, the deep wound on his side felt as thought it was beating a sharp pulse. There was blood in his mouth, and without thinking he licked his lip, as if that might ease some discomfort. The bazar taste of copper and face paint invaded his senses, and made him cringe.
Time slowed to a crawl as the memories of the Aburame boy filled him and chilled his helpless body further. Shino, with his dark glasses, and long coats. Shino with his curly hair and deep brown eyes. Shino, with his rare, small warm smiles, and quiet nature. Kankuro knew that in the after life he'd miss Shino the most.
The teen had pissed him off at first, he was nothing but a kid as far had he cared the first time they'd met and yet, the bug user made quick work of him. After that they'd meet on occasion, when Kankuro had business in Konoha, and always he'd resent the subdued teen.
Kakuro had hated Shino up until he saw him smile. The day had been warm, and most villagers stripped off their heavier clothes in favour of cooler ones, even Shino was not above this. At that time Kankuro had wandered into the other by chance. Instantly recognising him he back away a gave a very rude:
Despite his foul tone and sour look, the Aburame boy smiled. It was small, barely more then a twitch of the lips, but it was startling. Kankuro didn't think a guy like that could be anything but cold. Shino gave a short reply of: "So you remember me..." and turned to leave.
Kankuro didn't see the other for nearly a year after, but he never forgot. Each time he brought up the memory of that short meeting to his mind he recalled new aspects, new things that as a ninja, he unconsciously observed and stored in his mind for later examination. He examined each detail throughly. He also became frustrated with how little the memory supplied him. The next time Kanuro went to Konoha, he sought out the Aburame right away.
They would speak, sometimes eat, and spar, and with each meeting Kankuro felt a kind of confused clarity. Of course he asked himself the usual questions in that type of situation, but he ignored his growing insecurity. He wanted to always see that smile.
As Kankuro lay there on the cold ground, the snow slowing piling up around him, his own blood cooling in a puddle, he remembered every meeting. Every moment he's spent with Shino flashed before him, playing in the sky like his own privet cinema. They were not the type of couple to coo over each other. When they had to part they parted, not bothering to prolonge it with words and dollar confessions. They didn't have moments of heart felt confessions, and they didn't change each other's live dramatically and for the greatest better. They were friends, they were lovers, they were them, and each memory that played back to Kankuro was precious.
Thick tears clouded his vison as he recalled their first time. It wasn't rough, and passionate, nor was it soft and languid. They took what time they had, sitting on Shino's bed in front of each other near enough to the edge to have a foot on the floor, completely naked save for the fact that Shino kept his glasses on, and Kankuro kept his face paint on, and they did their best. Mostly they kissed though, small butterfly kisses, followed by deep messy ones.
Kankuro loved to kiss Shino. He loved the young man's mouth, it's small smiles or smirks. He loved to hear Shino's deep voice moan unabashedly, and he loved the knowledge that came with it. The knowledge that only he could make the other feel like that, sound like that. Kankuro wished he could kiss Shino once more.
Light headedness began to settle in, and the hollowing hands of regret felt far away, though no less potent. His eyes became blurry, as he languidly blinked away the snow still falling on him. He thought perhaps he heard footsteps, but all the sounds around him were far away as well. He though perhaps a shadow passed over him, and he allowed him self to pretend it was Shino come to say good-bye. Kanuro spoke, his voice harsh, slow, and wet all at the same time. The movement of his tongue pushed a few streaks of blood out of his mouth, but despite the difficulty he said what he needed to, and he thought that they were not such bad words to end his life with.
"I love you."