- Soft footsteps along the long dirt road to their destination; a somber silence filling the whole of their hearts. Evening light seemed devoid of color as the grey of the atmosphere settled in our souls, adding to the mood. Today was the day they would bury one of the dead as they had done for several years ever since the making of the village. Another loyal agent of the Leaf would be honored for their selfless duties to the citizens of Konoha. It would never get easier to say goodbye, always harder. Empty words of sentiment tossed around like a child’s plaything, never to be taken seriously and only there to entertain the fleeting thought of comfort. It was always hard to say goodbye…but nearly impossible when it was a beloved member of your family. -

Deadly accuracy not seen in any of the surviving shinobi nations allotted me the title of prodigy during my Academy days, coupled with a natural talent for wielding any and all tools of mass destruction. I suppose that was the reason why I had been placed to learn under Maito Gai where there housed a genius of taijutsu as well as the top-ranked rookie of our class. Greatness would be expected of our squad, not only from our exuberant teacher but from the others as well. As a part of a prominent family in Konoha, there was pressure on me to succeed and excel, especially when one of your predecessors had served a great many years as the Third Hokage of the village.

Learning of my grandfather’s greatness in the Academy only added to the pressure of living up to his prowess. Ultimately, knowing of his past only made it harder for me to accept my easy loss at the hands of Temari from the Sand Village; because not only did I let my team down, but my family as well. Uncle Asuma assured me that the family’s honor was still in tact despite my failure, but as things go, sometimes it’s hard to listen to what you’re told until you start believing it yourself.

Well, looks like another loss to Kakashi-san for Gai-sensei, I thought bitterly as I shifted into a more difficult stance.

Personally, I thought Gai-sensei’s decision to delay our entrance into the Exams had to do with Kakashi-san and the supposed rivalry that existed between the two of them. It was like he was waiting for the Copy-nin to finally pass a team so that he could pit us against them in a personal competition. After all, what fun is a rivalry if it cannot be passed down to the next generation? I’ve since come to realize that everything Maito Gai does is a competition, mostly against himself in order to prove that he’s worthy to be called a high-ranking Jounin of the Konoha elite…and maybe to be called our teacher as well.

- Brown strands of hair escaped from their ribbon-bound prison as I turned to glance at my team, staying close by in comfortable silence but keeping enough distance to suit my need for space…most of them in any case. Only a few feet away strolled Maito Gai, taking a moment to place a fatherly hand on my shoulder. Gone were the long speeches of youth and flashy gestures, lost to the winds as a more reserved side took control. Smiling with reassurance, he gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before facing forward for the long road ahead. A year under his guidance, enduring wild outbursts and flamboyant displays of affection alongside Rock Lee, and it was only now that I finally saw the true endearing quality of my teacher. -

But even after a year of waiting and training, this had been the best I could do; eliminated during the preliminaries when I had to rely on my own skills and talents to succeed. I had a reputation to uphold and maintain, charged with the responsibility of representing my family as well as my team in the Chuunin Exams…and I had failed miserably. No amount of encouragement and inspirational speeches could erase the mark I had made upon my self-esteem, although the better half of my team made a great attempt. But such a notion could only be solved when I actually started to believe in the words they preached.

I won’t fail again, was my determined vow, I will never let the family down again.

Muscles strained and stretched to hold on to the position a little while longer, my thighs and calves burning for release. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of my face, the chill wind breezing in through the open window doing little to cool my overheating body. I did my best to fight off the pain with clenched teeth, but my limbs were still recovering from all the endurance I had done the day before. That was what my time had become since my elimination in the preliminaries, trapped and caged within the four walls of my hospital room until my injuries healed. They had not been as severe as some, but precautionary measures were always taken when a member of the Sarutobi clan was involved.

Training had been the most logical solution to make up for my failure, both to my teammates and my family. But because the medic-nins had constrained me to my room for the duration of my stay, I was forced to focus on low damage tactics. The last thing that I needed was to spend more time confined inside the walls of the hospital under the care of persistent nurses who would resort to drastic measures in order to ensure that I remained cooperative. Such treatment was expected for a family member of the Hokage.

Unable to hold to the stance any longer, my knees gave in to the pressure and I collapsed onto the ground with a barely audible slap of skin against linoleum. A curtain of black locks framed my view as my eyes stared at pale hands poised in front of me on the tiled floor. The muscles in my legs were still trembling, screaming their protest to such strenuous exercises. But still it wasn’t enough, not for me.

Lee’s starting to rub off on me, I mused thoughtfully, smiling at the irony of the idea.

“I don’t think the nurses would be happy to know what you’ve been doing in here,” came an all too familiar voice.

“You know me, grandfather,” I retorted with an impish grin, “Nothing can keep me down.”

- Thin fabric ruffled against chilled skin, dancing in the breeze of the dreary afternoon. Walking hand in hand with one too young to truly understand the concept of death, I held my head up high for Konohamaru’s sake and fought the tears that threatened to fall. He needed me to be strong. Prideful honor and compassion had been a family trait we all shared, driving us to do all that could be done to ensure that our precious people were safe. Injury, pains, torture, death; they were all worth enduring for the sake of their security. Nothing brought him greater joy than protecting those he cared about. For the first time in my life, I wished he had been more of a coward. -

“That may very well be, but what good will it do you if you can’t walk afterwards?” the elder shinobi pointed out.

“Uh…yeah,” I regrettably agreed from where I was stranded on the floor, sheepishly scratching at my arm, “Heh, good point.”

He flashed me an amused smile from where he stood by the hospital door, lifting the edge of the Hokage hat to reveal the rest of his overshadowed face. I grinned in return at the sight of his familiar tanned face, spotted with signs of age that usually went along with a well-lived life. But despite the years, he still had the strength and prowess of his younger days when he had been the Sandaime, a force of diplomatic greatness that only paused with his retirement. He decidedly retook the position again after circumstances took the Fourth away into the next realm…along with my father. Despite the morbid undertones associated with the thought, it would always give me a burst of pride think that my father could be speaking with such a person on the other side.

“So what are you doing here, grandfather?” I inquired as he casually strolled over and held out a hand for me to take, “Don’t you have official village business to attend to concerning the Chuunin Exams?”

“As the current Hokage of the village, don’t you think I would manage to find a little time to spend with my only granddaughter?” he retorted as he flashed a mischievous smirk and a wink, reminiscent of his former youth.

Returning the gesture, I took a tight grip of his hand and pulled myself up into his waiting arms, relying on his continual strength from keeping me from meeting with the floor again. Still a bit wobbly on my strained legs, I slung an arm over his shoulders, ultimately knocking off the official Hokage hat from his head. True to the kind of person that he was, my grandfather made no move of noticing the action as he wrapped an arm around my waist and helped guide me back to the hospital bed across the room.

“Ah, I see I wasn’t the only person to visit you today,” he commented, glancing at the vase of flowers by the window as I eased myself onto the mattress and slipped under the covers.

“Yeah, Uncle Asuma came by earlier before heading out to help prepare Shikamaru for the Third Rounds of the Exams,” I confirmed, smiling thoughtfully at the rainbow of colors illuminated under the sun’s rays, “They look nice, don’t they?”

“They bring a certain joyful mood to the room, yes,” my grandfather agreed before the cheerful smile lessened into a slightly more serious expression, “But I would think a Jounin of his caliber could afford to buy a complete dozen for his niece.”

“Oh, he did buy a dozen,” I corrected with good cheer, knowing perfectly well where the missing bud had ended up, “But he took one and made a comment about it being reserved for somebody else.”

“Hm,” the older man scoffed, stepping up to look out the window pane, “I can only imagine who.”

- Birds chirped in the distance as the precession entered through the gates, accompanying the sound of strings being delicately plucked by nimble and skilled fingers. The slow melody floated across the expanse of the cemetery, complimenting the somberness that consumed everyone’s mind. It seemed to call out to the loneliness that settled in my soul, wrapping the harmonic notes around broken pieces as it attempted to put everything back together. Who would have ever guessed that Kurenai was so good at playing the koto? Then again, all kunoichis had been taught an array of skills that would allow them to blend in with local cultures and take on traditional roles that had been placed upon their sex generations before, including musical talents and entertainment purposes. -

“You think he’ll ever get the nerve to tell her the truth?” I inquired, seeing distant memories of two very adult Jounins acting so childishly shy as they walked the quiet path through the woods clear in my mind.

“I would like to believe he will eventually,” the aged man replied, casually glancing to the side at me, “After all, it’s never polite to keep a woman waiting.”

“Does he know that?” I scoffed playfully at my uncle’s expense.

The man known to all the villagers as the Sandaime merely chuckled in response, closing his eyes to the world outside to join me in a brief moment of merriment at the minor insult to my uncle’s knowledge concerning the opposite sex. Shadows shifted and molded along the contours of his face as his body moved in quite mirth, changing his old features and smoothing out the faint wrinkles among the more defined ones to give him a younger look. He was a man that had seen and survived many things thus far in his reign among the living, including brutal wars and devastating betrayals as well as the ever fearful encounter with the Kyuubi more than a decade ago. The courage that still resided in him was something to be admired…but a great pain to live up to.

“You seem to be doing well,” the elder man commented, turning away from the window to give me his full attention, “Aside from the minor injuries from you’re impromptu training methods, of course.”

“Yeah,” came my tentative response, still a bit apprehensive in his presence after what had happened during the preliminary matches, “The nurses have been very helpful in my recovery.”

“That’s good to hear,” was all he said, sounding like the ever loving grandfather that I had grew up knowing.

All the while my gaze wandered around the room, trying hard to avoid looking at him until finally it settled on the rough cloth of the hospital blanket that gathered in my lap, worn with time but still functional enough to be used for the temporary patients that came and went on a daily basis. Nervously pale digits fidgeted mostly out of habit at the silence that followed, filled only by the sound of thick fabric rustling as the Third Hokage shuffled around to idly rearrange the flowers with the same care and attention he put into all of his actions. On the outside, such a sight would only appear to be nothing more than the minor indulgence of an aging man. But I knew him too well to ever believe a lie like that. He was stalling for time.

Still so observant, I mused thoughtfully, a gentle smile creeping across my dry lips, You haven’t lost your touch, old man.

Despite all that he had gathered from my uncharacteristic behavior, still the man known as the village’s Sandaime said nothing to urge me in my intentions. Unlike most that I knew, he was never one to rush things, always taking a slow and steady pace with his endeavors when time was allotted to deal with them properly. A show of patience and understanding were qualities that had been the foundation to his previous reign as Konoha’s leading shinobi, paving the way while he set to build on those years in order to maintain the peace and prosperity that had settled on the village for many years now.

- Short blades of grass scraped along the exposed skin of my toes as the precession continued down the long road towards his final resting place, set to be entombed with the few other noble Leaf agents that had managed to leave something of themselves behind. It was always a fortunate stroke of luck and providence that a shinobi’s death would render any remains at all let alone an entire body to bury. The hallowed grounds of the cemetery was littered with empty caskets, slowly rotting and deteriorating like the missing corpses they were to symbolize. As morbid a thought as it was, I was glad to be able to hold his cold and lifeless hand one last time before they shut the doors to his life in this plane of existence; descending down into the dark pit that would pave the way to his afterlife. With him went the golden age of tranquility he had brought to the village in his long years of service, ushering in what promised to be a hard path ahead for all of us. -

“Grandfather,” I finally managed to softly call out, my courage still nervously wavering with shame under his attention, “I’m sorry…for failing the family.”

“Nonsense,” the old man replied in the softest of tones, much like a true grandfather would in such a situation, “You made me proud.”

“But I lost,” came my gently retort, confused at how such a humiliating defeat could make anyone feel that way, “How could you be proud of that?”

“You tried your best,” the Sandaime stated as if it would answer all my questions, “That’s all anyone can ask for.”

“A lot of good that did me,” I scoffed, my eyes fixed on the tranquil scene that could be viewed outside of the window.

With a quiet sigh, he shuffled across the expanse of the room to finally pick up his long discarded hat. Disheartening glances tinted with alarm at my failing confidence could be felt as I looked out the window, at the far wall, anywhere that weren’t his eyes. His kind words of encouragement would always hold a special place in my heart as they were a rare presence in my position and profession. It was a secret truth that kunoichis had to practically work three times as hard to gain the same merit as their male counter parts. The age-old belief that women could never account for the strength that men possessed was still a lingering obstacle, even in this modern day.

But even thoughtful sentiments from one so cherished could not easily cut through the self-doubt that had grew in my mind. Hours had been spent training with both Lee and Neji, seeing how much they had improved through time while my skills remained at a constant. One hundred percent accuracy was in my possession upon my graduation from the Academy; there was not much I could improve on. Perfection was a hard mistress to please. And even with that, along with all the strategies and all the weapons in the world, I still loss to her: Temari of the Sand Village.

“An extra year to train and still the best I could do was to be beaten in ten minutes by a girl from Suna with a giant fan,” was my mumbled comment, laced with bitterness, “Pathetic.”

“Do you truly believe yourself to be of so little worth?” the family patriarch inquired, his brows furrowing upward with concern.

“How could I not?” came my whispered reply, believing every word and sentiment implicated by the statement, “My time in these exams is over before it barely had a chance to start.”

“My dear Tenten,” my grandfather called softly to me from where he stood in the middle of the room, “Haven’t I taught you better than that?”

Still consumed with my shame for my poor performance during the Exams unable to face him just yet, I kept my gaze off to the side, focused on the intricate patterns melded within the tiled flooring of the hospital room. My breath hitched softly at the sound of his soft footsteps, marking his slow approach to the bed and me. As the shadow of his form became more prominent in the edges of my vision, a feeling of dread and sorrow steadily crept into the dark recesses of my heart, finally stilling when the mattress dipped under his weight. Having known his unfailing character for all the years that I had, it still amazes me to think back to how fearful I had been of him as the patriarch of the Sarutobi clan took his place by my side and enveloped me in his warmth as he wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulders.

“The end of one possibility is only the beginning of another,” the elder of our family said, repeating the same phrase that I had heard so many times while growing up, “When one door closes…”

“…Another one opens?” I finished, reciting the well-known saying from memory.

Deep and dark eyes sparkled with so much admiration as he looked down at me with a loving smile; the smile of one kind and loving to all under his care as it brought an untold reassurance to all who had the privilege of standing witness to it’s presence. Even while a little doubt still remained in the back of my mind, I could not stop the corners of my mouth from twitching upwards at him. I could not deny the lifting of my spirit at being so close to his indomitable soul; such as can be expected from the long standing leader of the Hidden Leaf Village I suppose.

“The Chuunin Exams are held twice a year so you’ll get another chance soon enough,” the village’s Sandaime stated further with a brief nod of his head, “And now that you’ve gained the additional experience, I’m certain you will show them all how brightly you can shine.”

“…Thank you, grandfather,” was all that I could say as I pulled him in for a loving and appreciative hug, burying my nose into the fabric of his Hokage robes.

“Always remember, the end is just where you start from,” he whispered into my ear just before pulling back to caress my cheek with his aged hands, “Promise me that?”

“…I promise,” came my whispered oath, “I’ll remember.”

- Wheels squeaked with a layer of rust as the wooden casket was slowly lowered deeper and deeper into the ground, finally hitting the bottom with a dull thud. It was a sound that sent shivers through all that gathered there, opening the floodgates to tears long suppressed in his honor. Briefly glancing at the crowd surrounding us, I searched for the missing presence of my Uncle Asuma in vain. I knew he would not come and yet I had still hoped for it. And with him gone, it would be placed upon me to shovel the first mound of dirt back into the ground over his grave, a dying wish for a most beloved leader of the village and of our family. And so with all the strength left within me I took up the metal tool in my grasp, so different from all the ones I was used to dealing with, and slid the crumbling earth solemnly into the hole. It took every part of my will not to crumble and break apart along with it.

“It means…that we’ll see him again, one day,” I replied solemnly as my gaze drifted off to the side in thought, a faint smile slowly spreading across my lips, “We just have to wait until the end…” -