Restless discontent hung about Kankurou’s room with the weight of the smoke that clouded the atmosphere. Tired and working against his body, mind skipping like a CD that wouldn’t accept the scratch-remover. Fathomless eyes sans makeup rolled to the clock as he wrapped up his Methodology final paper, nearly midnight. Not too bad. Working out a
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Gaara also says he blames the makeup on tasting like chocolate...
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