Author's note: First, the idea to write this story has been with me for probably three years, but I've been waiting until I found the right way to write it. I think I'm finally there. When writing, each chapter started with a short poem, from each character's perspective, which was dispersed throughout the chapter. (You'll see what I mean.) So, when you're done with each chapter, feel free to go back and put together all of the italicized lines to read the poem for each chapter. Anyway I feel like I've talked enough. So, lastly I DO NOT OWN NARUTO, THE CHARACTERS, OR THE ORIGINAL STORYLINE. And now, enjoy(: !and comment puh-leeeease!

There are words burning on my lips, venom pulsing in my veins.

Kankuro clenched his fists, hard, until the strain caused his knuckles to crack, his joints sighed. He released and felt the dull pulse of pain flood his hands.

He had never been broken like this before. He was a sand ninja, damn it. He had been bruised, beaten, scratched and slashed. He had reached out and touched death, felt it's cold embrace, but managed to pull himself back. But never had he been broken like this. And it was his entire fault.

The boy he couldn't get off his mind if he tried. And he was certainly trying, maybe not in the best way, though. Which is why he was here, in this claustrophobic alley, trying to forget. Red light glinted off of every sharp, cheap building, catching on the sweaty faces of the others here, also trying to forget.

I've got desire in my eyes. I cross the street like I know what I'm doing, but surely I don't.

Every part of him felt disgusting. His legs felt heavy, his body numb from the alcohol. His stale sweat stuck to his back, his forehead. His face was a smear of burgundy, the paint smudged out of its neat lines. He was a wreck. He didn't want to remember the last three days, but he couldn't keep the memories from swirling around in his head.

Of course, the real pain had been under the surface this whole time, deeply rooted long before the events of three days ago. The real pain had started as summer and warmth, and something Kankuro rarely allowed himself: happiness.

The mission he was assigned back then was a simple one: travel to Konoha, alone, and act as an ambassador of sorts. Gaara needed a message delivered to the Fifth Hokage, and was too wrapped up in other conflicts to deliver it himself. Kankuro knew it was basically an extension of the peace between Leaf and Sand, as well as what was meant to be an offer of cooperation between shinobi from both villages.

Minor crises were erupting between many smaller bordering villages. Civil wars between dying clans of stubborn ninja had proven overwhelming and exhausting for both Suna and Konoha to keep on top of. The message was a proposal to create teams of Sand and Leaf ninja in an attempt to boost the power as well as the number of squads that were able to attend to the annoying situations.

Kankuro never would have volunteered for a mission like that. In truth, he felt nothing for the cause. Let them handle their own problems and we'll take care of ours. But he could never speak against Gaara like that. And with Temari out actually trying to resolve some of the conflicts, Kankuro was the only sibling left and Gaara insisted he be the one to deliver it.

Honestly, Kankuro had never really spent much time in Konoha since the Chunin Exams. And although he didn't particularly care for the village, he admitted that what happened then had gone much too far. So maybe, in a small way, he owed them this letter at least.

Tsunade, who agreed wholeheartedly with the effort suggested, had received his message. She sent a reply asking to arrange a meeting to discuss further action, and Kankuro went on his way.

It was as he was leaving that Kankuro saw him. He hadn't seen the boy since the last time he was here, and hadn't taken much notice of him then. But now, he had grown up, and Kankuro was taking notice.

He had filled out in the time since he saw him last, his muscles thick, his shoulders broad. His hood was finally gone, letting Kankuro see his jaw, strong and angular. He was walking with Akamaru, who had also grown to monstrous proportions and now reached about three feet at the shoulder.

Kiba met Kankuro's gaze as he passed and something stirred in him, something that would keep him coming back to Konoha for a long time.

But the Kankuro now walking that dark alley wasn't the same as back then. He treaded bitterly, angrily, searching for something to fill that empty blackness that had grown inside of him. Or at least something to hide it for a while, help him forget.

And he saw a girl who didn't quite belong, leaning against a wall, hiking up her skirt. She glanced at passerby from under downcast lashes. But Kankuro could tell she was uncomfortable. She had a kindness in her eye. It reminded him of Kiba.

My heart stutters with the thick heat of the air and I grab her wrist.

"C'mon" he said coldly. He couldn't look back t her, just pull her deeper into the darkness, and she pressed herself against him without asking. He closed his eyes as they kissed, the red neon still etched behind his eyelids. But even the shocking lights couldn't block out Kiba's face, his fanged smile.

Kankuro grabbed her tightly, kissing her deeper, and she didn't object. They both knew this wasn't love, or even attraction. It was bitter anger. It was lust.

Tonight I play with fire.