When I first found out I was ill, I didn't tell anyone. I'd planned to, certainly. I'd planned to break the news to my daughter and her husband gently, and then go on to patch up every difference and make everything much better. Then maybe treat them with the last of my money when I knew I had less than a month remaining. It didn't work out quite like that though. Instead, when I went to visit them and went to tell them I was dying, Kurotsuchi cut across me with an excited face, telling me she was pregnant for the second time. Though I wouldn't make it to the baby's due date (early to mid September, I believe), I found myself just as excited as my dear daughter. I loved my grandson dearly, and I was sure I would love my second grandchild just as if I ever got to meet him or her by some major luck.
That was why I was so high-strung when I heard my daughter had died, also of a serious illness. My granddaughter was delivered by emergency C-section, painfully premature, and I got into a fight with my son-in-law. I wasn't even able to be by my daughter's side when she died, and it crushed me beyond belief. After that point, part of me became determined to form a father-son bond with my son-in-law before I died, though I had a few months to do it. It would be difficult, as I had lashed out at him in a fit of anger once or twice before (although the second time was a complete accident that he blew out of proportion, I had not meant to hit him at all), and I was certain he hated me now. Still, he was family, as Ohnoki had once said, and family mattered more than anything else.
Then I ruined it by letting slip to what might as well have been someone on top of the Kage residence with a loudspeaker linked to every speaker in the entire village that Kurotsuchi had died because she was pregnant. This wasn't too much of a problem, as not many blew that totally out of proportion, but one or two people took that to mean 'it's the husband and/or child's fault she's dead'. Our Tsuchikage was important to everyone as she was. Anyway, as some people did manage to blow it out of proportion, he got angry with me. So the idea of trying to bond with my son-in-law was at the very least put on hold, as he seemed good at holding grudges.
I don't remember when it was exactly. Mid to late June, I think. Thereabouts somewhere. I had my ultimatum, likely two weeks at the most. I'd become too ill to do much, but I had spent every moment I could wandering my streets, parting with memories, and trying to encourage myself to talk to the remains of my family. I hadn't seen them since...the 18th of May, I think. That sounds about right. He hadn't looked that bad then. I caught sight of him here and there though, just in passing, and each time he looked a little more disheveled, a little more tired, a little thinner. He was struggling to cope, that much was obvious, but either his pride was keeping him from requesting help, or his low popularity here was a bigger problem than either of us could have foreseen. I knew four places I could catch him. The play park on the east side, where he often took his son, the graveyard, where he often paid his respects for a brief time when he felt like it, his house, obviously, or the food market.
Iwagakure was quite well known for the food market. Quality sales made from quality ingredients, with more than just our own culture mixed in. Kankurou and his children lived in a high quality flat that sat in the midst of the market streets, so he often had to pass through them to leave or enter his home. He seldom stopped for something to eat there, even if he wanted to, but would sometimes buy his son something to stop the boy complaining. It was probably one of the easiest places to catch him, as he could turn up at any time of the day, and on most days did. So I'd resigned myself to wander around the market and hopefully catch him at around lunch time. A meal time would be an ideal way to spend time with him after all.
When I finally spotted him, he was shuffling back to his flat, clearly in a foul mood as even his son was keeping his distance. He had an empty baby carrier hanging off one arm, and both hands were keeping his daughter to his chest while she cried incessantly. Her voice was little more than a whine, and she was about the size of an average newborn now. At the moment she had red hair, but that was almost certainly going to darken. Tanto, my grandson, had been born blond, but now his hair was dark as the night sky.
"Kankurou!" I called. He didn't seem to notice, so I called again, but it wasn't until Tanto pulled his arm that he noticed someone had wanted his attention. Then he was polite enough to wait for me to catch up, but didn't bother wiping the tired scowl from his face. Tanto stared for a moment before charging at me hard enough to almost bowl me over.
"Grandpa Kitsuchi! It's been ages!" I made do with just placing a hand on his head as he embraced me.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I've been busy." I glanced up, and Kankurou had turned his attentions to the task of calming the wailing infant in his arms. He looked very uncomfortable, physically and socially, and god, the bags under his eyes..."How are you holding up?" I tried, mentally preparing myself for a snap. Instead, he gave me a lazy glance and a half-shrug.
"Fine, I suppose." He mumbled against his daughter's head. "Bit rushed off my feet...you?"
"I'm...I'm fine." I offered a smile. He did not return it. "I remember being a single father myself...sometimes I was so busy I forgot to eat." I forced a chuckle and his eyes went to the ground. This felt awkward. "Speaking of which, would you like to go grab some lunch? Spend some time...as a family." I was almost afraid to say 'father and son'. I saw him as a son now, though it had taken years of disapproval to do as such, and I'd never let him know of my acceptance. It was unlikely he had grown to see me as a father while convinced I hated him.
He forced a smile and shook his head. "Ah, no, thank you. I've just eaten."
Liar. I thought. I was pretty sure Tanto was giving him a strange look as well.
He gave his stomach a pat to help make his point. "I'm pretty full, I had a big lunch. Maybe some other time." His stomach responded by betraying his lie with a long, loud growl. I heard my grandson laugh and a slight tinge of red crept onto my son's cheeks.
"Sounds to me like you've skipped lunch." I pointed out, scratching the back of my head nervously as I gazed down at him. Kankurou was a fairly big man at almost 5'9, but even so he only just came up to my shoulders. I bit back the thought that he appeared to have skipped several other meals that week as well. No need to embarrass him further when he had already made it clear he didn't want to spend time with me. Still, now I was concerned. I reached out, resting my hand on his shoulder, and that earned me a proper glare. I smiled. "You sound famished, Kankurou. Come on, we've never really had a proper...anything, really. Besides, it's about high time I met my granddaughter."
That drew a smile from him. An actual smile. Thank god, I thought he'd lost the ability to do that for a moment. It quickly turned apologetic though. "I have to feed her though...she's hungry."
"You didn't bring anything for that out with you?"
"I only expected to be out for a few minutes." He admitted with a nervous chuckle. "So I ought to get back..."
"You can feed her and come back out." I tried. I was somewhat worried that this would be my last chance to do this, and I was planning on going back to my original plan, of spending the last of my money treating them. Even if all that treat was was a meal and a few trinkets (as, upon falling ill and losing my daughter, I had been content to let funds dwindle and drain away, so I probably couldn't do anything massive).
"Come on, otou-san!" Tanto interjected, still clinging to me resolutely. "It's been forever since we saw Grandpa for good reasons!"
All semblance of sensible argument against the offer disappeared at this plea and Kankurou gave a tired nod. "I'll be a couple of minutes, you two can wait in the entranceway." Leaving me with Tanto was good. It meant he wasn't going to disappear into his flat and ditch.
Tanto was a lot more energetic than his father. At least he had been eating and sleeping well, and was clearly excited, though he probably wouldn't eat at the restaurant, as he had had a tub of food from the market when I had first spotted the trio. He'd now finished and thrown the tub away, and had proceeded to wipe his mouth and hands on pretty much anything, including me. I didn't mind. He could do whatever he wanted for all I cared, as long as he was happy today. He was standing on chairs and shouting, and trying to convince me to give him a piggyback ride. I refused, unfortunately, but my illness had taken its toll on my body so I wasn't quite sure I could manage.
When Kankurou came back, it was with a bag slung over his shoulder, and his daughter still screaming up a storm. The two of us walked in silence, letting the children make plenty of noise for the both of us, and it was more comfortable to have Tanto do the talking, though the crying quickly got on my nerves. He was trying his best to calm her, though, and couldn't ascertain what the problem might be. During this time, I got a good look at him as his attentions were almost constantly elsewhere. He had lost a considerable amount of weight, his shirt, a black cotton night shirt, beginning to hang off his frame, which was quickly changing from muscular to scrawny. I doubt he had changed that top from the first time he had slept in it either. Definitely not since the last time his daughter ejected some kind of bodily fluid onto it. The ensemble carried the smell of vomit, sour milk, stale urine and armpit. He had gone much paler than before as well. The overall effect was of some poor victim of some brutal kidnapping who had been locked up in an extremely cramped space for the past month or so. And even if he wasn't filthy, pale and skinny, it would be obvious to most that he was struggling. Anyone who frequented the market, as I did, would see him sometimes staring at a stall or two with such longing that it took every ounce of self control not to buy everything on offer for him. The dark bruises under his eyes were another giveaway (as well as pretty much the only colour on his face), as was, from what I had heard, falling asleep on benches at the park almost every time he took his son there. Tanto had also managed to let slip the little fact that his lunch had been bought with money found dropped in the gutter that day.
Generally, the boy was seen as an outsider by the Hidden Stone. Few here liked him, if only because they never took the time to talk to him and get to know him before their Tsuchikage died. There had been lots of nasty talk when he had come to live in Iwagakure as well, ridiculous things about the pull he would have on the relationship between Iwa and Suna, and rumours about why the wedding had been done in secret, although the simple answer to that was it was a shotgun wedding that would have otherwise been delayed by politics. I admit their reluctance to involve politics and councils under the circumstances seemed fair to me. Even so, it had the councils angry and the villagers asking questions and spreading ill will. This all culminated in Kankurou being the centre of some rather poor attention. He had one or two friends here, but last I had seen them with him, the woman had been trying to use his recent bereavement as an excuse to get into his pants, and the man had been too shy to so much as look at him. Not the most helpful or reassuring duo to have around. The kind of person that would make you wish you were alone, actually. Frankly, even if he wasn't stubborn as a mule, he would likely feel he had no-one in Iwa he could go to for support. He had a brother and a sister in the lands of Wind and Fire respectively, but they were a long way away.
I was snapped out of my thoughts, first by my son-in-law letting out a low groan, and then by him snapping "Tanto, let go of my arm! I'm trying to use it!"
I glanced down and found the 7-year-old tugging at his father's arm, which Kankurou had indeed been using to try and support the baby's head. I gently pulled the boy away. "Tanto, your father needs both his arms to hold your sister, okay?"
"But-"
"You can hold my hand if you want. And he didn't mean to shout, he's just stressed."
"...I know...I can hold his arm if he stumbles again though or else he might fall down."
Kankurou took offence to that, somewhat humourously. "I tripped, Tanto, I didn't stumble."
"You almost fell on your face."
"Yes, because some stupid cat decided to dart under my feet like it wanted to test the whole nine lives thing. Stupid homicidal kamikaze cat..."
I chuckled. "I swear all the cats in this village are set to kill us. I've had that happen to me too, and then of course the owner tells me off for scaring their precious baby."
"Their 'precious babies' are generally demons." We both laughed about that before entering the restaurant. He hesitated at first, though I'm not entirely sure why. Perhaps it was the smell of the food or that the doorman had already wrinkled his nose at the smell of the filthy shirt, or that many tables were taken by people I was sure hated him anyway. Not that any of them paid us any heed until we walked past them. Perhaps I should have insisted he change his shirt before we set off.
We sat at a table tucked away in the corner, away from prying eyes that might make things even mildly uncomfortable. I saw Kankurou go to fish into his pocket, so I spoke. "Don't worry about eating cheap, this is entirely on me. My treat."
He arched an eyebrow, once again his face showing a look of offence. "Eating cheap?" He asked in a none too pleased tone.
"You're on a budget, aren't you? You can't be employed again already, especially not with a baby on your hip." I could have used more tact, I suppose, but I got it dead on and he gave a nod.
"Yeah, but I'll get back on things soon enough."
If I was correct, Kankurou hadn't done any work other than that of what would be commonly referred to as a house wife since moving to Iwa. He had traveled to Suna with Kurotsuchi once for a summit, but that was because she had been heavily pregnant at the time and refused to go anywhere without her husband and they had both had a bodyguard each that time. As well as three medic nin. Quite a convoy to say the least.
"Can I hold her?" I asked, nodding to the baby, who had finally started to calm down. He seemed a little surprised, almost as though he'd forgotten that I'd wanted to meet her. Gently, he passed her over.
"Careful, she's delicate." I held her to my chest, and her eyes trailed back to her father, her loyalties already set in stone. She loved him. It was obvious, and very sweet. She had Kurotsuchi's eyes and nose, almost the opposite of her elder brother, who looked so much like his father it was shocking. Even so, she readily relaxed into my arms, curling into the warmth and settling in almost as though for sleep.
"Her name is Kichona." Kankurou told me calmly, a wide smile exuding pride plastered across his face.
"'Precious'? Really?"
"My sister said the same thing. But look at her, it's the most fitting thing in the world. Except maybe Sensaina. Kichona flows off the tongue more readily though."
I gave a slight nod of agreement, though frankly I'd have gone for something a little less sappy than that. When someone came to take our orders, I calmly returned her to the baby carrier at our feet.
The atmosphere was amicable as we ate. There were scatters of conversation, of things that perhaps we had in common or extended families or things we held dear to us. Then, halfway through, he suddenly asked why I was doing this. And suddenly the atmosphere turned tense.
"What do you mean?" Was this about the fights we'd had in the past?
"I know you. You're my wife's father. I may not know you perfectly, not 100%, but I can tell something's wrong." Ah, his skills in observance hadn't taken any major blow from his exhaustion, I see.
"And you're my daughter's husband...you might as well be my son. You and your children are the last of my family. I care about you all deeply." Tanto gazed up at me in confusion, and Kankurou bit his lip and glared at the tabletop.
"It's serious, isn't it? You're not a sentimental guy, I know that much."
"I can be sentimental when I want!"
"So does your side of this family just have awful genes or what?" He was cracking a joke now. I shook my head. and sighed.
"I'm concerned for you, Kankurou. You're not managing as well as you claim you are."
He looked to me again and heaved a sigh to match my own. "Kitsuchi, I'll get over the struggle. I'm strong. You know I'm strong. You...you wouldn't be acting like this if you didn't think you had a chance of making it out the other side."
"I just want to patch things up."
His eyes widened. "Oh gods, you're dying!" I heard cutlery drop and suddenly the table was silent. I didn't look at either of them.
"I first saw you as a punk and a brat. You were strange, a foreign entity the likes of which I'd never experienced. If I couldn't understand you, you were a danger. I was protective and you were a frivolous brat who, from what I'd heard, had a string of failed week-long romances. I thought you were just going to hurt my little girl and I'd have to pick up the pieces. Turns out you were a marshmallow in a tough guy facade."
He pulled a face. "I am not a marshmallow."
"You're strangely domestic though."
"Only when absolutely necessary. Like when little brats need caring for."
Tanto made an indignant sound at that, but there was affection there. I smiled and shook my head again. "A little over seven years ago, almost eight, I gained a son."
"'Whether you like it or not', as Lord Third said." His smile faded quickly as he appeared to think things over. "But now I'm losing you, just as you actually do something nice." There was a slight laugh in his words, but one of bitterness. "My only adult family in Iwa...three people gone in two months." He clicked his fingers to represent Kurotsuchi and Ohnoki's deaths. They had occurred very close together, I had to admit. I'd expected Ohnoki's death to be a bigger blow to Tanto though, as they'd spent plenty of time together. They'd liked one another's company.
"Kankurou-"
"How long have you known?" The bitterness was gone. Now it just sounded...morbidly curious.
"I found out a couple of days before you guys announced Kichona was coming."
Kankurou paused, clicking his fingers again and pointing, gesturing for his son to come to him. It was only then that I realised my grandson was crying.
"I don't want you to die." The little boy whimpered into his father's shirt. Kankurou calmly ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to comfort him. I had no idea what to say to him, and by the looks of it, neither did he, so we sat in silence, waiting for the young boy to calm down before the next question was asked.
"How long before...?"
"End of the fortnight at the latest, supposedly." I badly wanted to go back to the amicable atmosphere from before. I hated this now. It was so far from what I had wanted, but then how was I ever supposed to make the announcement of my impending death okay?
"You left it pretty damn late to say anything..." His voice was soft. Shocked. "If you'd said something before...well, I'd probably have been less of an arsehole, I can say that much."
"I somehow doubt that with all the stress you've been under."
"I can dream though."
"I've had trouble finding the time, the place, the words...even when I had it planned, you tried to duck out, remember?"
He gave an embarrassed smile. "Ah, yeah, sorry about that." He left his mouth open as he tried to fumble for an excuse other than 'I'm pretty sure you hate me as much as I hate you', but eventually just shrugged. "It is good to catch up though, I'll admit that. Tanto!" The shout took me by surprise. I really needed to pay more attention. The seven-year-old had grabbed his father's drink, and I'm quite sure it was alcoholic. As Kankurou scolded him, I turned my attention to Kichona, who had been awoken by the shouting and was fretting. I nudged the baby carrier with my foot, rocking her in an attempt to soothe her. I didn't want to look at them.
"Kitsuchi." I made myself look, and next I knew I was being drawn into a hug. "You're damn calm about this." My son-in-law scolded with a smirk. "But you're the only one I'll get to say goodbye to, so it'd better be a damn good one."
I laughed. I don't know why. Maybe because it was awkward having him pressed up against me. But I willingly made a deal of sorts to keep things surprisingly positive. I wanted them to have good memories of me, after all.
And good memories I gave, at least I hope.
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