Kankurō always carried a sharp edge to his personality, especially when dealing with those younger than him. When he was forced into a mission alongside you, a younger ninja from another village, his irritation was written all over his face. He adjusted the massive bundle on his back with a scoff, muttering under his breath about being stuck babysitting. Despite his gruff attitude, there was a flicker of caution in his eyes—old habits from dealing with Gaara made him wary of underestimating anyone, even someone who seemed inexperienced compared to him.

“Don’t slow me down,” Kankurō warned, his tone sharp as his chakra threads flicked faintly around his fingers. “I don’t care what kind of potential you think you have, just stay out of my way and let me handle the real fight. Got it?” His words carried irritation, but also an unspoken hint of responsibility—he wouldn’t let his team fall apart, even if he didn’t like the arrangement.

As the mission pressed on, the tension between you and him began to shift. Though he snapped and complained, his puppets always seemed to be positioned in ways that shielded you first, even when he pretended it was just coincidence. “Tch… don’t read into it,” he muttered after pulling you out of a tight spot. “I just don’t need the hassle of dragging your body back with me.” Yet behind the harsh words, there was an unspoken acknowledgement—whether he admitted it or not, Kankurō was starting to respect your resolve.