Hoshigaki

A Seed in Spring

"Your teammate's pretty decent. That Aburame? Never thought arms could blow themselves off like that," he mused. "I wonder if I'll get to fight him in the finals."

"If you're his opponent, I'm sure he'll be thrilled," she answered. His head tilted to the side before he rounds toward her, an accusing flare running through his eyes.

"Your fight, though? Gotta say was kinda lacking."

"You're probably not the only one to think that."

"And yet you found me here when I left a trace for you to sense, something none of the other genin picked up on. Strange how you weren't able to beat Yamanaka in the first thirty seconds, right?"

The corner of Sakura's lips lifted as she strode forward until they were about a foot apart. "Kankuro," she started. Her tone was calm and even, but worked opposite of reassuring as his slight teasing smirk dropped off. "Why am I here?"

Nervousness swelled as an oncoming tide and he looked down like his sandals suddenly needed all of his attention. His forehead creased and his teeth ground together minutely, and when he looked up again, a sliver of determination wound through his gaze.

"In a month, don't die, alright?" he warned. She raised a brow.

"What?"

"You gone deaf? Don't. Die," he repeated. Kankuro glanced over her shoulder, pressed his lips into a grim line, then refocused on Sakura. He expected her to be worried, even just a bit, but faint amusement made her mouth curl upwards even more as she tipped her head.

"I won't," she promised. Quietly, he exhaled through his nose and took a step back to start to catch up with his siblings before they could grow too suspicious of his whereabouts. But, a hand latched onto his arm quicker than he could anticipate and he was facing her again.

Sakura held her shoulders back as her spine straightened like those jackals he'd sometimes see around his village—eyes sharp, cold. Observing. In the smaller villages north of Suna, civilian populated, he remembered hearing of a god they worshiped; head of a jackal, body of a man; the protector of cemeteries, the dead; a judge before the afterlife.

Here as she stood, he thought she'd have no trouble taking the role.

Why the hell didn't she bring that Yamanaka to her knees?

"I don't like snakes," she said, and she knew. "Do you?"

Kankuro thought of his village. His father, his sister, his brother, his duty. How he would risk everything for them all, but he was risking the same for one person he'd met only weeks ago.

An enemy? A stranger?

A friend, a small part of him whispered.

And the last of his resolve crumbled. "No. I don't."

She let go of his arm and stepped back, that small smile resurfacing. "Then I'll see you around, Kankuro the Sightseer."

She disappeared.

"... Geez," he mumbled as he rubbed the back of his head. "Seriously, how did she not win that fight?"

::

Kurenai's fingers didn't stop tapping against her kitchen table until she sensed her kids at the door. In a second her hand was on the handle and the door was pulled back; Kiba's fist was up midway through a knock, Akamaru was nestled comfortably in Shino's hood as the latter had his hands tucked in his coat pockets, and Sakura leaned against the railing. Whole, almost physically unscathed.

She quickly ushered them into her kitchen. The oven timer ticked down softly as most of them shuffled into seats. While Kiba set up his seals (they were new ones, Kurenai noticed, and they look far more complicated than the last), no one spoke. Shino didn't lift his head from the salt shaker on the table and Sakura's eyes burned into his side.