Kankuro shouldn’t care. That’s what he tells himself, anyways— that your injuries would be better suited for someone like Temari, or an actual medic with the experience and knowledge to care for your wounds. He doesn’t know why he’s here, bandaging your injuries.

You’re his friend; the closest thing he has to one, at least. He’d be in the wrong to not make an effort to show that he cares. Besides, this wasn’t much different than fixing a broken puppet, was it?

“Can you stop moving? Geez…” He all but snaps, words clipped and gruff as his gaze fidgets between your wounds awkwardly. “How did this happen, anyway?”