fic: sweat and summers (sandcest)
Sweat and Summers
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: blood, perhaps incest hints.
Summary: It's when he sees summer through her.
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She catches the ball before he can. She laughs and he feels his cheeks redden with wounded pride.
"I could have caught that," he snarls at her, angrily ripping the ball from her hands. Stomping as far away from her as possible, he looks up to the basket hoop above, glaring at it. The seven year old boy throws an irritated glance over his shoulder at his sister, blaming her for his unfortunate athletic skills.
She only laughs again. "Oh, come off it."
He sighs when his eight year old sister goes back to the sidelines and watches him play his lone game of basketball. His young mind reasons she's the problem and he'd feel better if she weren't here. If he had other friends, maybe he'd play better. But all he has is her and she's not even his friend.
With a timid look at her wide green eyes across the court, the boy turns his attention back to the ball in his hands. Okay...so maybe he wanted her company. Well...at least somebody's company.
Just a little.
"Temari?"
"Yeah, Kankuro?"
He throws the ball to her and he doesn't need to say anything else. She's walking onto the court, wiping the sweat from his brow gently.
With a smile, "It's been a hot summer, huh?"
Kankuro doesn't reply but he keeps that in mind.
--
She shields him from the kunai before it's lodged into his neck. She cries out and he feels his heart stop with fear.
"I could have dodged that, you idiot," he whispers hoarsely as he picks her up from the sandy ground. His hand clamps over hers on the wound to stop the blood, as if both their hands will help. Angrily, he sends his puppets at their enemies, and in seconds, bodies hit the ground. He doesn't notice their screams or how they die; he's concentrating on the woman in his arms.
She grins, but it only lasts a few seconds before she's grimacing in pain. "Oh, don't worry about it."
Shaking his head, he tries to suppress the terror of the situation. He blames her for being there in the first place. Maybe, if she had been somewhere, if he had other teammates, this wouldn't be happening.
He closes his eyes and tells her, "Don't talk."
She's staring up at him with those green eyes he's remembered since a small child. His skilled fingers begin bandaging the wound in her leg as much as he can and she's silently masking the hurt she feels. When he's done, they stand and he has to half-carry her until she cannot walk anymore. By then, she's on his back, her fan dragging behind them, along with over-sized puppets.
Worriedly, he glances at his shoulder, where her chin lies, then back at the long distance he will have to walk to their home. He thinks he'd rather this than leaving her in the desert, alone. And it feels better when she's closer to him. Sweat pours down his face, but that's something he's used to (something they're all used to).
"Temari."
"Yes, Kankuro," she answers tiredly, painfully.
He stops suddenly in mid-stride, his strong gaze upon the sand below them. Honestly, he's never been good at this part, telling her everything hasn't been easy because he's never had to. Her hand that had been limply thrown over his shoulders before grips the front of his shirt. And he doesn't have to say antyhing else, because he's sure she already knows. Tenderly, her arms tighten just a little bit more around his neck.
"It's hot, isn't it?"
Kankuro smiles and begins on their journey home.
--x--
fin.
--x--
For the record, if I were Kankuro in that pic up there, I'd so be begging for more kisses. Just for the record. :p