A/N: For some reason I was struck with the idea of Kankuro visiting Konoha and staying with the Hyuugas. He's nobility, they're pretty fabulous themselves, hey hey? Or my mind is just full of crack; either way, this was born. Also I'm here representing for KankuroxNeji.

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"I thought you hated kids."

Kankuro looks up to see Neji giving him a look, hair unbound and falling over his shoulders. The little puppet, hastily made, dances at his fingertips. Hanabi giggles and follows it, still begging to be taught.

"Yeah, well," he grins, making the puppet do a particularly fancy taijutsu move, watching Hanabi's eyes widen, "she's one of the good ones."

…

"I still want you to teach me." Hanabi watches her legs swing in the air, watches Kankuro's forearms work as he struggles with a gear inside Karasu.

"Oh really," Kankuro says, distracted by the little part slipping in and out of his hands (greased from machinery, wood and metal). "Well, as I've said…ah," it slid out of reach again, broken bits sticking out and making it hard to grip, "…I'm not exactly sure you're ready." Yes, there it was. He wiggled a screwdriver in next to it.

She furrowed her little brow at him. "I am nearly ten," she said, with much weight and importance.

Kankuro rolled his eyes, oh, well, in that case, and she stretched out a small foot and kicked him in the ribs. He winced and made a show of rubbing the spot. "Hey, take it easy. I'm busy right now. Maybe I'll teach you later." God, why did he feel so shitty saying that? This time last year, he would have gladly stomped the kid.

Hanabi pouted and stared down at her hands. "I've tried concentrating the chakra…but I can't get it to make strings." Byakugan veins stood out around her eyes, blue flared at her fingertips. Before anything more could happen, Kankuro reached out and took gentle hold of her wrist.

"No," he said, "definitely not like that."

Hanabi stuck her tongue out at him. "Well, at least I tried. Teach me, so I don't hurt myself." She grinned. She had him there.

Sighing, Kankuro extracted his arms from Karasu, wiping his hands off on a rag. "Fine," he said, in a bratty tone, and they both made a face at each other.

Ten minutes later Kankuro found himself walking very fast down the hall to the bathroom, carrying a crying Hanabi. He knocked the door open with his shoulder, murmuring quieting things to her while all he desperately, guiltily wanted to do was swear. Setting her in front of the sink, Kankuro turned the water on as cold as it would go and directed her poor little fingers underneath the stream.

"Here," he said, "Hold your hands here. I'll get you some ice."

Leaving the bathroom, it was a wonder Kankuro didn't scream, such was the tension already built in him, when he found Neji right outside the door.

"What's going on?" he asked. "What happened to Hanabi?"

Kankuro sighed, ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I was teaching her the puppet technique, her fingers got a little burnt."

Neji tenses, face tightening. "What?" he snaps, before his eyes are flaring into Byakugan, veins bulging around them. He sees his young cousin through the door, holding her hands under running water, sniffling. He turns the gaze on Kankuro. "Will her hands be alright?" The hands were the most vital weapon of the Hyuuga clan. Neji dreaded to think what Hiashi would say if Hanabi's fingers had been damaged in any way.

"Yeah, they'll be fine," Kankuro answered, half-whisper, still feeling guilt-sick and strange. "Do you have any ice? It would help." He remembers the first time he burnt his fingers, the first time he successfully raised Karasu, that moment of elation before something painful sparked in his hands. And after, sitting in his room and sucking sullenly on his fingertips because Baki-sensei didn't think anything serious was wrong.

They dig some ice out of a chest in the basement and give Hanabi a cloth full of it (plus a few chips to suck on). Kankuro bundles her guiltily on the couch, leaving her with some intricate, jointed, but "non-functioning" dolls to play with and a heartfelt apology. He spends the next hour or so telling stories at her insistent behest, until she slowly nods off and falls asleep against his side. He's almost sad it's happened.

Because now he has to explain himself to Neji.

They dress for bed, quietly, without eye contact.

"I am so sorry," Kankuro starts, hushed, after they slide into bed, trying to catch Neji's pale eyes but getting avoidance. "She kept asking, and I thought it'd be okay—hey, look at me." Fed up, he catches Neji's chin in one hand and pulls his face forward. "Come on. I'm really fucking sorry here."

Neji shakes Kankuro's hand off and folds his arms. "Don't swear when Hanabi is in the house, please."

"Don't change the subject. I'm trying to apologize." Kankuro found the blankets interesting, suddenly. This was still difficult.

"I know," Neji sighs. "I was…worried." He scrubs a hand tiredly across his face. "Without her Gentle Fist, it's quite possible my uncle would disown her."

Kankuro made a face. "Come on," he said, skeptical, "Hiashi wouldn't go that far. Would he?"

Neji gave him a look, and then seemed to relax. "Perhaps I am over exaggerating."

They fell silent for a bit, moving closer until Kankuro had thrown an arm over Neji and their legs were tangled.

"I felt," Kankuro says rather suddenly (he never knew the right way to say shit, just had to blurt it out), "I felt like…like a dad." He smiles a little sheepishly and Neji gives a rare smile back. "it was kind of nice."

"Does that scare you?" Neji presses closer, yawning elegantly.

"Scares the shit outta me," laughing nervously into Neji's hair, Kankuro forgets the rule about swearing, as usual, but for once, Neji seems to agree with the sentiment.