less than greek

          “he keeps askin’ questions,” the puppet master sighs, “lotta fuckin’ questions. s’like the kid needs to know everything about everything.” some questions are incredibly hard to answer. 

          he knows at their age, they were well into shinobi training and had even taken lives already. he knows better than anyone that innocence can only last so long. and yet, he wants to protect it as long as he can. he never wants to lie to kotaro but kankuro also doesn’t want to explain how and why his dad died, or why the war happened, or what it had taken from them. maybe he’s just being selfish. the fact he didn’t have the luxury of ignorance as a child is probably the exact reason he wants to keep taro just a kid for just a little bit longer. 

           he’s peering over the counter top on tip-toes, brown eyes wide and practically sparkling as they take in the sight of a fresh, piping hot plate of cinnamon rolls she’s prepared. 

          “i’ll go back for the drought prep this time,” he sounds annoyed but they both know he’s not. not really. they’re just taking turns like always. from where he sits on the kunoichi’s couch, he can see a puff of brown hair through the window running around in the front yard. akamaru barks and catches him by the scruff of an untucked collar with a soft mouth. the dog was like another nanny, he swears.

          lil starter call? 

i don’t know how to wield tools that small

gonna make some changes to this blog. 

the main verse is still my au where kiba has passed and kankuro is single dad kank.

but i will also open up other verses as well. canon verses, post war, pre war, all of that. i feel as though it would be a step in moving forward.