- Death is a part of life just as much as birth; there can be no beginning without an end. My grandfather had taught me that before his own end decided to make itself known. He always said that life was filled with obstacles and that they were meant to test our strength to survive and give purpose to our existence. He, much like most others who knew him, believed that we live to fight for those we are meant to protect…and with a noble leader like the Sandaime as your grandfather, it‘s hard to argue with him. -
Feeling the tug of chakra strings against her calf and ankle, Tenten looked up just in time to see the weapons spring into place before the traps were unleashed in the small hallway space. After fighting off the momentary shock and her initial reaction to reach for her own weapons, the kunoichi only had enough time to duck into a nearby room to avoid any serious injuries she would have surely gotten from the assault.
“Konhamaru!” the steel mistress cried from the confines of her bathroom, “What did I tell you about cleaning up after practicing inside the house?”
Soft murmurings muffled by the thick walls that separated the rooms drifted in through the smoke and haze left behind from the discharged weapons as the young shinobi muttered out an apology from the safety of the spare bedroom. Though it had sounded sincere enough from what she could tell, the soft chuckles in between syllables were hard to ignore. Carefully peering around the corner to survey the damage done to her apartment, the kunoichi let out an exasperated sigh as more holes were added to the already growing collection.
“You know, I’m only doing this while Uncle Asuma is gone as a favor and mercy to you,” the elder shinobi called out, placing calloused hands worn down from years of use firmly on her hips in irritation, “He was considering leaving you with Gai-sensei; thought it‘d give you more structure.”
“He wouldn’t dare!” the young Academy student exclaimed as his head popped into the corridor, the lines of his face contorted in horror at such a thought.
Tenten could only smirk at the image while the fruits of her devious plan had slowly planted itself into the mind of the young Academy student. There was no doubt that she loved her little cousin to death -- after the loss of their grandfather years before in the line of duty the two had became rather close through their shared grief -- but as all teenage girls, the kunoichi was not in the business of dealing with undisciplined individuals who would not or could not give her the proper respect that her stationed warranted. Hours of training and preparation after years of disappointing failures had granted her the coveted position on one of the leading ANBU squads in the village.
But I guess I can’t really expect him to understand that, the weapon mistress admitted as an afterthought, He hasn’t even entered and competed in his first Chuunin Exams.
“Come on Squirt,” the kunoichi called, motioning to him with her hand as she completely ignored his concerns, “Lunch is ready.”
At the mention of food the young shinobi in training forgot all thoughts of possibly spending his time with the exuberant teacher of his elder cousin, Maito Gai, and rushed off into the kitchen area to pilfer what he could for his midday meal. She made to follow when a knock at the door stopped the kunoichi in her tracks. A fleeting glance back towards the sweet smell of fresh dumplings was all that Tenten allowed herself, turning with regret to see who was keeping her from her meal. Feeling for the kunai hidden in her sleeve out of habit, the steel mistress was mildly shocked to open the door to the white mask of an ANBU agent.
“Miss Tenten?” came the gruff voice of the man hidden behind the bird mask.
“Yes?” she responded, brows furrowing together in confusion as she mulled over the possible reasons why the ANBU would have business with her.
Gloved fingers held out a scroll for her to take, the ANBU agent choosing to let it speak the words that he could not seem to find. Tenten eyed the rolled up parchment for a moment with great scrutiny and suspicion before carefully taking it from his more than willing fingers. With the task of making the delivery done, she had expected him to disappear back into the shadows on his way back to headquarters for another mission that would be better suited for one of his rank. But much to the kunoichi’s surprise the masked man remained silently standing at her doorstep, seemingly waiting in earnest for her to read the content of the message.
This must be really important if the ANBU are involved, Tenten soon realized when it was clear that the high-ranking ANBU agent would not be leaving until he was sure the message was read, I’m sure he has better things to do than serve as the mailman.
Sparing him one last fleeting glance, the sole female member of Team Gai quickly unraveled the scroll and scanned over the words that had been written inside. Callused fingers marked by the long hours spent practicing with the steel weapons of her trade tensed as they gripped onto the scroll while the realization started to settle in, seeping into every dark corner of her conscious until the initial shock finally hit.
“No…” came the kunoichi’s soft protest, brows furrowing together as she shook her head in disbelief, “It can’t be true.”
“I’m afraid it is,” the leaf shinobi regrettably confirmed, doing little to ease her pain with his solemn sympathies, “…I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“…So am I,” the young leaf shinobi responded evenly after taking a moment to compose herself, “Thank you for telling me.”
With a nod in departure, the special ANBU agent disappeared with a shimmer and a quick flash of his form, leaving behind a somber young kunoichi as she mulled over the information she had just received. The clink of silverware against porcelain reminded the Chuunin of the younger boy happily dining in the kitchen, completely oblivious to the exchange that had just occurred.
- Death is a part of life just as much as birth; there can be no beginning without an end. My grandfather had taught me that before his own end decided to make itself known. He always said that life was filled with obstacles and that they were meant to test our strength to survive and give purpose to our existence. He, much like most others who knew him, believed that we live to fight for those we are meant to protect…and with a noble leader like the Sandaime as your grandfather, it‘s hard to argue with him. -
Feeling the tug of chakra strings against her calf and ankle, Tenten looked up just in time to see the weapons spring into place before the traps were unleashed in the small hallway space. After fighting off the momentary shock and her initial reaction to reach for her own weapons, the kunoichi only had enough time to duck into a nearby room to avoid any serious injuries she would have surely gotten from the assault.
“Konhamaru!” the steel mistress cried from the confines of her bathroom, “What did I tell you about cleaning up after practicing inside the house?”
Soft murmurings muffled by the thick walls that separated the rooms drifted in through the smoke and haze left behind from the discharged weapons as the young shinobi muttered out an apology from the safety of the spare bedroom. Though it had sounded sincere enough from what she could tell, the soft chuckles in between syllables were hard to ignore. Carefully peering around the corner to survey the damage done to her apartment, the kunoichi let out an exasperated sigh as more holes were added to the already growing collection.
“You know, I’m only doing this while Uncle Asuma is gone as a favor and mercy to you,” the elder shinobi called out, placing calloused hands worn down from years of use firmly on her hips in irritation, “He was considering leaving you with Gai-sensei; thought it‘d give you more structure.”
“He wouldn’t dare!” the young Academy student exclaimed as his head popped into the corridor, the lines of his face contorted in horror at such a thought.
Tenten could only smirk at the image while the fruits of her devious plan had slowly planted itself into the mind of the young Academy student. There was no doubt that she loved her little cousin to death -- after the loss of their grandfather years before in the line of duty the two had became rather close through their shared grief -- but as all teenage girls, the kunoichi was not in the business of dealing with undisciplined individuals who would not or could not give her the proper respect that her stationed warranted. Hours of training and preparation after years of disappointing failures had granted her the coveted position on one of the leading ANBU squads in the village.
But I guess I can’t really expect him to understand that, the weapon mistress admitted as an afterthought, He hasn’t even entered and competed in his first Chuunin Exams.
“Come on Squirt,” the kunoichi called, motioning to him with her hand as she completely ignored his concerns, “Lunch is ready.”
At the mention of food the young shinobi in training forgot all thoughts of possibly spending his time with the exuberant teacher of his elder cousin, Maito Gai, and rushed off into the kitchen area to pilfer what he could for his midday meal. She made to follow when a knock at the door stopped the kunoichi in her tracks. A fleeting glance back towards the sweet smell of fresh dumplings was all that Tenten allowed herself, turning with regret to see who was keeping her from her meal. Feeling for the kunai hidden in her sleeve out of habit, the steel mistress was mildly shocked to open the door to the white mask of an ANBU agent.
“Miss Tenten?” came the gruff voice of the man hidden behind the bird mask.
“Yes?” she responded, brows furrowing together in confusion as she mulled over the possible reasons why the ANBU would have business with her.
Gloved fingers held out a scroll for her to take, the ANBU agent choosing to let it speak the words that he could not seem to find. Tenten eyed the rolled up parchment for a moment with great scrutiny and suspicion before carefully taking it from his more than willing fingers. With the task of making the delivery done, she had expected him to disappear back into the shadows on his way back to headquarters for another mission that would be better suited for one of his rank. But much to the kunoichi’s surprise the masked man remained silently standing at her doorstep, seemingly waiting in earnest for her to read the content of the message.
This must be really important if the ANBU are involved, Tenten soon realized when it was clear that the high-ranking ANBU agent would not be leaving until he was sure the message was read, I’m sure he has better things to do than serve as the mailman.
Sparing him one last fleeting glance, the sole female member of Team Gai quickly unraveled the scroll and scanned over the words that had been written inside. Callused fingers marked by the long hours spent practicing with the steel weapons of her trade tensed as they gripped onto the scroll while the realization started to settle in, seeping into every dark corner of her conscious until the initial shock finally hit.
“No…” came the kunoichi’s soft protest, brows furrowing together as she shook her head in disbelief, “It can’t be true.”
“I’m afraid it is,” the leaf shinobi regrettably confirmed, doing little to ease her pain with his solemn sympathies, “…I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“…So am I,” the young leaf shinobi responded evenly after taking a moment to compose herself, “Thank you for telling me.”
With a nod in departure, the special ANBU agent disappeared with a shimmer and a quick flash of his form, leaving behind a somber young kunoichi as she mulled over the information she had just received. The clink of silverware against porcelain reminded the Chuunin of the younger boy happily dining in the kitchen, completely oblivious to the exchange that had just occurred.
Uncle Asuma can’t be dead, Tenten thought, still in denial to the news, But there were witnesses…and the ANBU don’t make mistakes.
Generally a cheerful and optimistic person, there were few things in life that could upset Tenten. But with the death of her grandfather, the former Sandaime of Konoha, this new blow was just too soon to deal with. She was particularly concerned about how Konohamaru would handle the news, having only recently getting over the death of the former Third Hokage of Konohagakure. Three years, she felt, was not enough time to prepare him for this blow.
“How am I going to break it to him?” the leaf-nin mumbled to herself, glancing in the direction of the small kitchen area.
“Who was at the door, Tenten?” Konohamaru inquired loudly, as if he could tell that she had been thinking of him.
I’ll fix this, Tenten vowed with conviction while her hand clenched into a tight fist, But for now, I need to tell him.
“Konohamaru?” she called softly in return, “…There’s something I need to tell you.”
- The legends that circle around the village tell both of the glories of victory as well as the grave sacrifices made in battle. We learn from an early age that pain is an extension of life, just as happiness and joy is a part of the wonders the world has to offer. Without it, we could not truly measure the compassion and kindness that resides within a soul. It is what comes with being a loyal agent of your village and the first thing that they tell us about in the Academy. No, there are no lies in the shinobi profession…only deceptions of the truth. -
“You weren’t at the ceremony.”
Strands of free flowing hair drifted across the kunoichi’s face along with the wind as she glanced back at the source of the voice, only barely catching a glimpse of seemingly colorless eyes staring straight back at her before facing forward once again. The black cloth of his attire did little to flatter his handsome features, merely accentuating the pale complexion that was so common in his family while still retaining the intimidating stare of their bloodline.
“You always had a knack for stating the obvious, Neji,” the kunoichi muttered softly to her teammate, unable to keep the somber tone from her voice.
Shrouded in her own set of black funeral robes, Tenten looked to the setting sun slowly sinking into the western horizon. She had had every intention of attending the ceremony upon leaving the apartment that morning, prepared to pay her last respects to the man who played such a pivotal role in the kunoichi’s life after the death of her parents. The stop to the training grounds was merely a last minute decision to escape from the hectic and chaotic hum of complete strangers mumbling their condolences, if only for a moment. But as she was walking along the familiar paths across the field in tranquil silence, surrounded by the same blades of grass and trees that had filled her younger days…such comforting images in the kunoichi’s time of grief called out to her, keeping Tenten there to deal with the pain alone. And so she had stayed until common sense brought the Hyuuga prodigy there in search for his missing teammate.
“Everyone was wondering where you were,” the young Kaiten user stated softly, sounding as if he meant to play on her guilt to learn what he needed to know of her.
“I’m sure they had better things to think about than where I was,” the steel mistress countered coldly, imitating the very tools that had been her life since childhood.
In her hand, Tenten clutched a kunai tightly within her grasp, afraid to let it go and thus releasing her hold on the memory of his life. Tattered and tarnished from years of overuse, it had been the very first gift she had received and the only one that had stayed with her through the years as the kunoichi fought to make a name for herself separate from the family. Now it was the most cherished tool in her arsenal.
Lowering her eyes from the line of trees that bordered the training grounds, she watched intently as the tip of her thumb traced along the clan emblem etched in the metal blade. Generations of history and ancestors resided in the timeless symbol of her once prominent clan, now reduced to nothing more than two inexperienced shinobis just struggling to keep from falling apart from the inside out.
I wonder how Konohamaru is doing, Tenten thought idly to herself, generally concerned about one of the last remaining member of her family.
“He needed you…” Neji pressed on as if he could hear her thoughts, knowing that there was no need for him to mention who he was referring to.
“…I’m no good to anyone like this,” was the kunoichi’s somber response as she turned away from the setting sun, finding it too beautiful for her suffering soul.
Shoulders brushed as Tenten made an attempt to step past her teammate in hopes of fleeing the scene to find another place where she could be alone. Pride was something that all shinobis possessed and she refused to be seen in such conditions, especially in front of a higher ranking ninja despite their close friendship. Finding a need to hold her attention for a brief moment, Neji reached out and took a gentle but firm hold of the kunoichi’s wrists, ensuring that she would at least stay long enough to hear what he had to say.
“Tenten,” he breathed softly, “Why don’t you let him decide that?”
Seeing that she had stopped all movements at his words, the young Hyuuga prodigy let his fingers slip away from his teammate’s chilled skin. On her own accord, Tenten turned to face him for the first time since he arrived on the field, a portrait of blank emotions decorating her features. If there was one thing he knew well, it was the cold look of detachment from one’s humanity. But like most, the truth was held in her chocolate eyes, staring so clearly into his own seemingly pupil-less orbs. They told a story of contained sorrow and pain that cried to be released. But Tenten was as stubborn as she was resilient; he could tell that she was fighting to hold on to every shred of her pride that was left in order to not breakdown at his feet.
“Maybe I’m afraid of the answer,” she finally replied, turning away from his all seeing eyes.
“…I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything, Tenten,” the young Jounin commented smoothly.
“And I’ve never known you to care so much, Neji,” the Chuunin mumbled bitterly in reply.
However harsh or unbending the comment had been, he held no resentment towards her for making such a statement; both knew it to be true. The young prodigy had spent a great many of his early years concentrating on his own issues concerning the policies of the Hyuuga clan, believing that his personal goals were more important than anyone else’s. Because of the narrow scope Neji had on the world and its importance to his life, the problems that the rest of the team faced were ignored and cast aside; left to be picked up and analyzed when they served a purpose for him. So blinded by her adolescent infatuation, it had taken Tenten too many years to realize the truth of that. The brunette scoffed quietly at the irony; now that she had finally managed forget her idolization of the emotionless genius, he decided to care.
“I promised Lee that I’d make sure you were alright,” was his simple reply, shrugging with nonchalantly at the thought, “In any case, you weren’t the only one who‘s absence was noted.”
“I wasn’t?” the kunoichi questioned with furrowed brows, glancing over her shoulder at him.
“Shikamaru failed to show up as well,” her teammate replied, shaking his head at her inquiry.
“…Really?” Tenten inquired, brows furrowing together as she processed the information.
Familiar with how the young Nara functioned, such an act would have been disregarded without a second thought under normal circumstances. But these were not normal circumstances. It was no secret that Asuma had played a major role in Shikamaru’s life, both as a teacher and as a friend. Aside from her own family, the news had hit him the hardest, doubly so since he had been one of the few present when her uncle had took his last dying breath.
Strange, but it’s understandable, the kunoichi supposed, knowing that she would have done the same had she been in his position.
“I can’t imagine what might have kept him,” Neji continued on, “Can you?”
“Who knows what’s going on in his head?” she replied, ignoring the heavy gaze her teammate was boring into the back of her head.
“…Or yours.”
- For most of us, to seek out aid from outside forces is a sign of weakness; it comes with the stubborn nature of shinobis. But despite the obvious character flaw, we all know that nothing can be accomplished individually. It was the combined forces of all the leaf agents that saved the village from complete destruction during our first Chuunin Exams. It had been the combined efforts of my friends that brought all who were sent on Sasuke’s retrieval mission home quick enough to be mended. And it was the combined support of the entire village that had helped us all move on past the tragedy of losing one of Konoha’s greatest leaders. -
Too tired and worn out from the overuse of his chakra, the once lazy genius of the Hidden Leaf Village collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. All the while, she quietly watched him with interest from the sidelines, a ghost of a memory lingering on the very edge of her consciousness. Gripped tightly in his hands were the dark steel of familiar knuckle blades, blinking and fizzling with the dissipation of his chakra control. From what she could determine, Shikamaru had been practicing with Asuma’s weapons for hours, perhaps even days; working through the advanced techniques of his former sensei, slowly breaking them down until the move could be perfected.
“You really are a genius,” Tenten commented softly, breaking the perpetual silence that had settled in the Nara’s backyard, “I think it took Uncle Asuma months to get that far in his training.”
Having experience with stubborn prodigies, the kunoichi was not at all effected when her only response was a soft growl of frustration quickly following a fleeting glance of irritation. That was all the attention he would spare her, choosing instead to continue on with his exercises. Admittedly, Tenten was mildly impressed by his determination, returning to her quiet observance with new respect. Her relations with his teacher allotted the kunoichi an occasional glimpse into the lives of Team 10 and its members, particularly the young Nara as he seemed to be the squad‘s unofficial and unwilling leader. In all the years that Tenten had known him, Shikamaru had never shown such diligence until now; fighting and struggling with all his spirit to learn his sensei’s signature jutsu. But as she was beginning to figure out, death usually brought about a lot of changes, even with the strongest of shinobis.
Not quite convinced enough to let the younger shinobi train on his own, Tenten remained to watch his progress a little while longer; ever a watchful presence along the edges of the Nara family’s backyard and Shikamaru’s conscious mind. Taking mental notes of his form and technique, the kunoichi unconsciously began comparing them to what she could recall of her uncle’s training so many years before.
“You know, I can help you with that,” the kunoichi offered quietly, noticing the slight difficulty he was having, “I used to watch him practice all the time when I was younger.”
Being part of such a prominent family in the shinobi profession, training had been a constant factor in her early years. Never wanting to be idle with her time, the young girl had made a point in watching while other members of the clan trained, soon finding that Sarutobi Asuma along with her grandfather quickly became Tenten’s two favorite subjects. Admittedly, she had managed to learn a great deal from watch the two of them, both separately and together, and could attribute her affinity to weaponry as a direct result of her observations during their sessions.
“…No thanks,” the lazy genius finally replied, although somewhat hesitantly.
Gripping the knuckle blades in his steadily shaking hands, Shikamaru struggled to keep his chakra control while he went through the motions of the attack once again. Keeping a close eye on him from the sidelines, it was obvious to Tenten that the stress of overexerting himself and his reserves was starting to affect the Nara’s mobility. Even now, she could see that the younger shinobi was having difficulties holding up the most cherished weapons while he set up for another attempt at mastering his sensei’s move.
He’s not going to last for much longer if he keeps it up, was the only thought running through the kunoichi’s thoughts, watching him struggle to stand up again after each try until he let out an exasperated sigh.
“…Go home, Tenten,” he commanded in his usual bored manner, actually taking the moment to glance at her out the corner of his tired eyes, “This is troublesome enough without you standing there.”
The more rational and calculative part of him knew and expected that she would leave as he had requested. From what Shikamaru had observed of Tenten through the years, it had been part of her personality to avoid most conflicts whenever necessary. But instead of departing immediately like he had hoped, the weapon goddess simply remained standing there, watching the young Nara from the sidelines. To most, the expression on her face would be described as unreadable, but Shikamaru had spent enough time around her to read the subtle signs; the barely visible lines between her brows told of her annoyance, and the small crease at the corner of her mouth mapped out her disapproval.
It was a rare brand of irritation that the older girl never allowed herself to show or feel, preferring to act peacefully and rationally with others. After all, it was in her nature to be the universal balance and mediator among their generation, so to see her as anything otherwise was a bit unnerving, even to a normally lazy genius like himself. But when the kunoichi refused to voice her concerns and merely chose to continue her critical stare, the younger shinobi could only sigh his own frustrations.
“If you have something to say, Tenten, just say it,” he drawled out, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground while he waited for her to make her move.
“…You’re not the only one who lost him,” she finally responded after a long pause, her voice a sounding a little shaky and unstable from what he could hear.
Pausing for a moment as if to ponder the kunoichi’s words, he slowly turned around to face the steel mistress, finding her solid mask wavering for just a moment as deep emotions started to fight through towards the surface. Because of their mutual connection to Asuma, he had been a witness to the rare occasions where the usually reserved and calm kunoichi broke character and showed her true weaknesses.
“Honestly, of all the times for you to decide to be selfish, you choose now?” the kunoichi grounded out bitterly, “After everything he’s taught you?”
Her voice shook with what little control that still remained, struggling with the inner demons that were eating her up from the inside. He could see it all; even if he were not a genius, the time that the two had spent together would have been enough to enable him to see it. Within the reflective surface of her eyes, Shikamaru could see the concealed pain.
Tenten had perfected the art of deception long before entering the Academy; something that he suppose was necessary when forced to constantly deal with death at such an early age. Now, with the most recent of losses and the weight of his indomitable spirit still fresh in her heart, Shikamaru was amazed to no end how she even managed to keep up with the façade for this long under the pressure and grief.
“Let someone in,” Tenten said softly with a sigh, merely a whispering aftermath of her previous anger as she turned to leave, “It doesn’t necessarily have to be me, but…just don’t take this on alone.”
“…I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Tenten,” the younger shinobi finally managed to say after his long bout of silence, “At the rate I’m going, I’ll never learn it in time for the next mission.”
Scoffing her response, the weapon goddess stopped only long enough to give her one-worded reply before moving back into the shadows where she had lived for most of her life. Disappearing so quiet and meek, blending into the background; it was what she did best. And it was what made her so forgettable in all of this. While the entire village had been concerned about the Konohamaru’s grief and the change in character he had shown in the wake of Asuma’s death, her unshed tears had remained unnoticed except to those few who knew her best.
“And Tenten?” Shikamaru called to her as an afterthought, waiting for her to stop before continuing with his comment, “I’d start taking my own advice if I were you.”
- The old fade and the young linger, that is the way things are and should be. My grandfather knew that and so did my Uncle Asuma. They understood the consequences and risks just as much as we did. But even then, the young still need guidance in order to survive the new age of war that was certain to come. Who do they turn to when there is no one left? Who would be willing and strong enough to take the place of their fallen leaders and teach the new generation of heroes? -
Blades of grass crunched under her feet as she entered under the archway of the cemetery, making her through the maze of tombstones ominously glowing in the morning light. Having years of practice, she walked the familiar path towards where all the dead members of her clan laid buried; generations of Sarutobis rested amid the forest of concrete memories housing the lifeless souls of all who had crossed the eternal divide. Dawn had just arrived bringing with it the soft glow of the rising sun over the horizon, casting long shadows over the cemetery as if to bring life to the long forgotten spirits resting beneath her feet.
The quiet that had always settled there was both unnerving and calming, working to both alert her shinobi senses as well as bring ease to her solitude. It was a welcomed comfort to her already erratic mind. And as she knelt down beside the most recent of headstones to be erected, Tenten could not help but give in to the small smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. Admittedly, it was always nice to sit in the silence of the cemetery, away from busy streets of Konoha so filled with innocent people who knew nothing of the true ways of the world.
Careful and methodically, she worked to brush aside the dirt that had managed to gather and collect in the small crevices, letting her fingers linger over the name engraved into the hard marble. Having witness such truths with her line of work, like most in her profession the kunoichi had grown to cherish all that life had to offer while still remembering those who were no longer with them. But that still did not make it any easier to move on.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when they…” she began, finding that she could not seem to finish the sentence, “I just couldn’t…not like this.”
They had stood as strong pillars in her life as well as in the lives of all those they touched, inspiring others to do better and be more than what they could ever hope to be. They were great leaders of their generation, destined to be legends in the history books; forever remembered by all those who follow after. Tenten could only hope to achieve such a feat before she joined them on the other side.
I will make you proud of me, she quietly vowed to the heavens, knowing that those who waited for her on the other side could hear it.
“You would have been proud,” a soft voice belonging only to a female interrupted, “Konohamaru was very brave and handled himself like a true Sarutobi.”
“Tch,” the younger kunoichi scoffed, “That’s more than I can say for myself.”
Drawn by the soft sway of the grass under her feet, the steel goddess glanced back over the soft curve of her shoulder towards the rising sun and greeted the approaching figure with a quiet and respectful nod. Even at such an early hour, the Jounin instructor of Team 8 still looked as radiant and calm as ever, though her steps appeared more weary than usual. But she supposed, everyone’s mood had been a little more morbid during the past few days since the news had spread about Asuma’s death.
“You give yourself far too little credit, Tenten,” Kurenai commented softly as she walked up beside the young girl.
Whether the older kunoichi knew it or not, a pale hand was protectively press against the woman’s stomach as if out of habit and Tenten could not help but find some amusement in that. It would still be another few weeks before the physical signs of her pregnancy would become really noticeable, giving more definition to the slight curve of her belly that she already had now. But it seemed that the Jounin’s unconscious behavior more than made up for nature’s discretion. To Tenten, they were true signs of motherhood.
“Shouldn’t you be resting in your condition?” the younger kunoichi inquired, quirking a curious brow.
“How did you - ?” the elder began to question, her eyes widening a fraction in shock.
“We’re a family of shinobis,” the Chuunin interrupted without missing a beat, smiling fondly at the lingering thought, “There’s little that we can keep from each other.”
“Hm,” Kurenai scoffed lightly with a smile of her own, “I suppose I should have expected as much.”
Exchanging a brief look of understanding, the kunoichis settled into a tolerable silence; letting the atmosphere of the hallowed grounds bring peace to their troubling minds. In Tenten’s experience, the road to recovering was not be an easy one and would be more difficult now than ever before. While previously she had a solid foundation to lean and rely on to help her through, now she would have to stand as a pillar for others.
“He would have been a great father,” she mumbled softly to the older kunoichi.
“He already was a great father,” Kurenai responded, causing the former to glance up at her curiously, “I saw how he was with you and Konohamaru after the Sandaime died, and how he lead his team.”
“…Yeah,” Tenten agreed, nodding at the truth of her words, “I guess you’re right.”
“And you will do a fine job with Konohamaru as well,” the Jounin added, placing a hand on the young girl’s shoulder in comfort.
Despite knowing that the responsibility of taking guardianship over the young shinobi in training and being prepared to perform her duty as the boy’s last surviving relative, Tenten could not help but tense at the woman’s words. Caring for someone else’s needs would be hard and taxing, especially with someone who idolized the number one prankster of the village, Uzumaki Naruto. She was only sixteen years old and barely on her own. Would she be able to provide for the both of them the means to survive?
“I’m not so sure about that,” the weapon mistress somberly muttered in response, to both her mental inquiries and to Kurenai’s previous statement, “I know that am the leader of this family now, but I don’t know what to do.”
“None of us do,” came the woman’s cliché words of comfort, “We just have to get through it as best as we can.”
Strangely enough, no matter how overused those few lines were or how many times she had heard it during the week that preceded the funeral as well as the days that followed after, Tenten felt slightly calmed by them. It reminded her that not everyone knew the answers and that they all were simply just fumbling through life with the same concerns, doubts and questions; each searching for a resolution that could never truly be found.
“All I know is that Asuma trusted you enough to put Konohamaru in your care when he left,” the elder kunoichi added, finally taking a moment to kneel down and place a single white rose on top of the new headstone, “Find comfort in that.”
“So…is this where we’re supposed to go from here?” the young agent of the leaf questioned, holding out a hand to help the pregnant woman back up, “Is this how we move on?”
“I don’t know,” was Kurenai’s only response, a twinkle of a smile trapped within the depths of her blazing read eyes, “But it’s a start.”
- To make an end is to make a beginning. Those were the words that had been in my family for generations. And they were true enough, I suppose. The start of a new adventure cannot be possible without finishing the one before it. The coming of a new generation is not possible without the old stepping down from their coveted positions of power. It’s a cycle in life that is ever turning, perpetual and endless. Because like my grandfather always said, ’The end is where we start from.’ And in that respect, I suppose that the beginning is where we end up. -Bu, Tenten thought, still in denial to the news, But there were witnesses…and the ANBU don’t make mistakes.
Generally a cheerful and optimistic person, there were few things in life that could upset Tenten. But with the death of her grandfather, the former Sandaime of Konoha, this new blow was just too soon to deal with. She was particularly concerned about how Konohamaru would handle the news, having only recently getting over the death of the former Third Hokage of Konohagakure. Three years, she felt, was not enough time to prepare him for this blow.
“How am I going to break it to him?” the leaf-nin mumbled to herself, glancing in the direction of the small kitchen area.
“Who was at the door, Tenten?” Konohamaru inquired loudly, as if he could tell that she had been thinking of him.
I’ll fix this, Tenten vowed with conviction while her hand clenched into a tight fist, But for now, I need to tell him.
“Konohamaru?” she called softly in return, “…There’s something I need to tell you.”
- The legends that circle around the village tell both of the glories of victory as well as the grave sacrifices made in battle. We learn from an early age that pain is an extension of life, just as happiness and joy is a part of the wonders the world has to offer. Without it, we could not truly measure the compassion and kindness that resides within a soul. It is what comes with being a loyal agent of your village and the first thing that they tell us about in the Academy. No, there are no lies in the shinobi profession…only deceptions of the truth. -
“You weren’t at the ceremony.”
Strands of free flowing hair drifted across the kunoichi’s face along with the wind as she glanced back at the source of the voice, only barely catching a glimpse of seemingly colorless eyes staring straight back at her before facing forward once again. The black cloth of his attire did little to flatter his handsome features, merely accentuating the pale complexion that was so common in his family while still retaining the intimidating stare of their bloodline.
“You always had a knack for stating the obvious, Neji,” the kunoichi muttered softly to her teammate, unable to keep the somber tone from her voice.
Shrouded in her own set of black funeral robes, Tenten looked to the setting sun slowly sinking into the western horizon. She had had every intention of attending the ceremony upon leaving the apartment that morning, prepared to pay her last respects to the man who played such a pivotal role in the kunoichi’s life after the death of her parents. The stop to the training grounds was merely a last minute decision to escape from the hectic and chaotic hum of complete strangers mumbling their condolences, if only for a moment. But as she was walking along the familiar paths across the field in tranquil silence, surrounded by the same blades of grass and trees that had filled her younger days…such comforting images in the kunoichi’s time of grief called out to her, keeping Tenten there to deal with the pain alone. And so she had stayed until common sense brought the Hyuuga prodigy there in search for his missing teammate.
“Everyone was wondering where you were,” the young Kaiten user stated softly, sounding as if he meant to play on her guilt to learn what he needed to know of her.
“I’m sure they had better things to think about than where I was,” the steel mistress countered coldly, imitating the very tools that had been her life since childhood.
In her hand, Tenten clutched a kunai tightly within her grasp, afraid to let it go and thus releasing her hold on the memory of his life. Tattered and tarnished from years of overuse, it had been the very first gift she had received and the only one that had stayed with her through the years as the kunoichi fought to make a name for herself separate from the family. Now it was the most cherished tool in her arsenal.
Lowering her eyes from the line of trees that bordered the training grounds, she watched intently as the tip of her thumb traced along the clan emblem etched in the metal blade. Generations of history and ancestors resided in the timeless symbol of her once prominent clan, now reduced to nothing more than two inexperienced shinobis just struggling to keep from falling apart from the inside out.
I wonder how Konohamaru is doing, Tenten thought idly to herself, generally concerned about one of the last remaining member of her family.
“He needed you…” Neji pressed on as if he could hear her thoughts, knowing that there was no need for him to mention who he was referring to.
“…I’m no good to anyone like this,” was the kunoichi’s somber response as she turned away from the setting sun, finding it too beautiful for her suffering soul.
Shoulders brushed as Tenten made an attempt to step past her teammate in hopes of fleeing the scene to find another place where she could be alone. Pride was something that all shinobis possessed and she refused to be seen in such conditions, especially in front of a higher ranking ninja despite their close friendship. Finding a need to hold her attention for a brief moment, Neji reached out and took a gentle but firm hold of the kunoichi’s wrists, ensuring that she would at least stay long enough to hear what he had to say.
“Tenten,” he breathed softly, “Why don’t you let him decide that?”
Seeing that she had stopped all movements at his words, the young Hyuuga prodigy let his fingers slip away from his teammate’s chilled skin. On her own accord, Tenten turned to face him for the first time since he arrived on the field, a portrait of blank emotions decorating her features. If there was one thing he knew well, it was the cold look of detachment from one’s humanity. But like most, the truth was held in her chocolate eyes, staring so clearly into his own seemingly pupil-less orbs. They told a story of contained sorrow and pain that cried to be released. But Tenten was as stubborn as she was resilient; he could tell that she was fighting to hold on to every shred of her pride that was left in order to not breakdown at his feet.
“Maybe I’m afraid of the answer,” she finally replied, turning away from his all seeing eyes.
“…I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything, Tenten,” the young Jounin commented smoothly.
“And I’ve never known you to care so much, Neji,” the Chuunin mumbled bitterly in reply.
However harsh or unbending the comment had been, he held no resentment towards her for making such a statement; both knew it to be true. The young prodigy had spent a great many of his early years concentrating on his own issues concerning the policies of the Hyuuga clan, believing that his personal goals were more important than anyone else’s. Because of the narrow scope Neji had on the world and its importance to his life, the problems that the rest of the team faced were ignored and cast aside; left to be picked up and analyzed when they served a purpose for him. So blinded by her adolescent infatuation, it had taken Tenten too many years to realize the truth of that. The brunette scoffed quietly at the irony; now that she had finally managed forget her idolization of the emotionless genius, he decided to care.
“I promised Lee that I’d make sure you were alright,” was his simple reply, shrugging with nonchalantly at the thought, “In any case, you weren’t the only one who‘s absence was noted.”
“I wasn’t?” the kunoichi questioned with furrowed brows, glancing over her shoulder at him.
“Shikamaru failed to show up as well,” her teammate replied, shaking his head at her inquiry.
“…Really?” Tenten inquired, brows furrowing together as she processed the information.
Familiar with how the young Nara functioned, such an act would have been disregarded without a second thought under normal circumstances. But these were not normal circumstances. It was no secret that Asuma had played a major role in Shikamaru’s life, both as a teacher and as a friend. Aside from her own family, the news had hit him the hardest, doubly so since he had been one of the few present when her uncle had took his last dying breath.
Strange, but it’s understandable, the kunoichi supposed, knowing that she would have done the same had she been in his position.
“I can’t imagine what might have kept him,” Neji continued on, “Can you?”
“Who knows what’s going on in his head?” she replied, ignoring the heavy gaze her teammate was boring into the back of her head.
“…Or yours.”
- For most of us, to seek out aid from outside forces is a sign of weakness; it comes with the stubborn nature of shinobis. But despite the obvious character flaw, we all know that nothing can be accomplished individually. It was the combined forces of all the leaf agents that saved the village from complete destruction during our first Chuunin Exams. It had been the combined efforts of my friends that brought all who were sent on Sasuke’s retrieval mission home quick enough to be mended. And it was the combined support of the entire village that had helped us all move on past the tragedy of losing one of Konoha’s greatest leaders. -
Too tired and worn out from the overuse of his chakra, the once lazy genius of the Hidden Leaf Village collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. All the while, she quietly watched him with interest from the sidelines, a ghost of a memory lingering on the very edge of her consciousness. Gripped tightly in his hands were the dark steel of familiar knuckle blades, blinking and fizzling with the dissipation of his chakra control. From what she could determine, Shikamaru had been practicing with Asuma’s weapons for hours, perhaps even days; working through the advanced techniques of his former sensei, slowly breaking them down until the move could be perfected.
“You really are a genius,” Tenten commented softly, breaking the perpetual silence that had settled in the Nara’s backyard, “I think it took Uncle Asuma months to get that far in his training.”
Having experience with stubborn prodigies, the kunoichi was not at all effected when her only response was a soft growl of frustration quickly following a fleeting glance of irritation. That was all the attention he would spare her, choosing instead to continue on with his exercises. Admittedly, Tenten was mildly impressed by his determination, returning to her quiet observance with new respect. Her relations with his teacher allotted the kunoichi an occasional glimpse into the lives of Team 10 and its members, particularly the young Nara as he seemed to be the squad‘s unofficial and unwilling leader. In all the years that Tenten had known him, Shikamaru had never shown such diligence until now; fighting and struggling with all his spirit to learn his sensei’s signature jutsu. But as she was beginning to figure out, death usually brought about a lot of changes, even with the strongest of shinobis.
Not quite convinced enough to let the younger shinobi train on his own, Tenten remained to watch his progress a little while longer; ever a watchful presence along the edges of the Nara family’s backyard and Shikamaru’s conscious mind. Taking mental notes of his form and technique, the kunoichi unconsciously began comparing them to what she could recall of her uncle’s training so many years before.
“You know, I can help you with that,” the kunoichi offered quietly, noticing the slight difficulty he was having, “I used to watch him practice all the time when I was younger.”
Being part of such a prominent family in the shinobi profession, training had been a constant factor in her early years. Never wanting to be idle with her time, the young girl had made a point in watching while other members of the clan trained, soon finding that Sarutobi Asuma along with her grandfather quickly became Tenten’s two favorite subjects. Admittedly, she had managed to learn a great deal from watch the two of them, both separately and together, and could attribute her affinity to weaponry as a direct result of her observations during their sessions.
“…No thanks,” the lazy genius finally replied, although somewhat hesitantly.
Gripping the knuckle blades in his steadily shaking hands, Shikamaru struggled to keep his chakra control while he went through the motions of the attack once again. Keeping a close eye on him from the sidelines, it was obvious to Tenten that the stress of overexerting himself and his reserves was starting to affect the Nara’s mobility. Even now, she could see that the younger shinobi was having difficulties holding up the most cherished weapons while he set up for another attempt at mastering his sensei’s move.
He’s not going to last for much longer if he keeps it up, was the only thought running through the kunoichi’s thoughts, watching him struggle to stand up again after each try until he let out an exasperated sigh.
“…Go home, Tenten,” he commanded in his usual bored manner, actually taking the moment to glance at her out the corner of his tired eyes, “This is troublesome enough without you standing there.”
The more rational and calculative part of him knew and expected that she would leave as he had requested. From what Shikamaru had observed of Tenten through the years, it had been part of her personality to avoid most conflicts whenever necessary. But instead of departing immediately like he had hoped, the weapon goddess simply remained standing there, watching the young Nara from the sidelines. To most, the expression on her face would be described as unreadable, but Shikamaru had spent enough time around her to read the subtle signs; the barely visible lines between her brows told of her annoyance, and the small crease at the corner of her mouth mapped out her disapproval.
It was a rare brand of irritation that the older girl never allowed herself to show or feel, preferring to act peacefully and rationally with others. After all, it was in her nature to be the universal balance and mediator among their generation, so to see her as anything otherwise was a bit unnerving, even to a normally lazy genius like himself. But when the kunoichi refused to voice her concerns and merely chose to continue her critical stare, the younger shinobi could only sigh his own frustrations.
“If you have something to say, Tenten, just say it,” he drawled out, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground while he waited for her to make her move.
“…You’re not the only one who lost him,” she finally responded after a long pause, her voice a sounding a little shaky and unstable from what he could hear.
Pausing for a moment as if to ponder the kunoichi’s words, he slowly turned around to face the steel mistress, finding her solid mask wavering for just a moment as deep emotions started to fight through towards the surface. Because of their mutual connection to Asuma, he had been a witness to the rare occasions where the usually reserved and calm kunoichi broke character and showed her true weaknesses.
“Honestly, of all the times for you to decide to be selfish, you choose now?” the kunoichi grounded out bitterly, “After everything he’s taught you?”
Her voice shook with what little control that still remained, struggling with the inner demons that were eating her up from the inside. He could see it all; even if he were not a genius, the time that the two had spent together would have been enough to enable him to see it. Within the reflective surface of her eyes, Shikamaru could see the concealed pain.
Tenten had perfected the art of deception long before entering the Academy; something that he suppose was necessary when forced to constantly deal with death at such an early age. Now, with the most recent of losses and the weight of his indomitable spirit still fresh in her heart, Shikamaru was amazed to no end how she even managed to keep up with the façade for this long under the pressure and grief.
“Let someone in,” Tenten said softly with a sigh, merely a whispering aftermath of her previous anger as she turned to leave, “It doesn’t necessarily have to be me, but…just don’t take this on alone.”
“…I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Tenten,” the younger shinobi finally managed to say after his long bout of silence, “At the rate I’m going, I’ll never learn it in time for the next mission.”
Scoffing her response, the weapon goddess stopped only long enough to give her one-worded reply before moving back into the shadows where she had lived for most of her life. Disappearing so quiet and meek, blending into the background; it was what she did best. And it was what made her so forgettable in all of this. While the entire village had been concerned about the Konohamaru’s grief and the change in character he had shown in the wake of Asuma’s death, her unshed tears had remained unnoticed except to those few who knew her best.
“And Tenten?” Shikamaru called to her as an afterthought, waiting for her to stop before continuing with his comment, “I’d start taking my own advice if I were you.”
- The old fade and the young linger, that is the way things are and should be. My grandfather knew that and so did my Uncle Asuma. They understood the consequences and risks just as much as we did. But even then, the young still need guidance in order to survive the new age of war that was certain to come. Who do they turn to when there is no one left? Who would be willing and strong enough to take the place of their fallen leaders and teach the new generation of heroes? -
Blades of grass crunched under her feet as she entered under the archway of the cemetery, making her through the maze of tombstones ominously glowing in the morning light. Having years of practice, she walked the familiar path towards where all the dead members of her clan laid buried; generations of Sarutobis rested amid the forest of concrete memories housing the lifeless souls of all who had crossed the eternal divide. Dawn had just arrived bringing with it the soft glow of the rising sun over the horizon, casting long shadows over the cemetery as if to bring life to the long forgotten spirits resting beneath her feet.
The quiet that had always settled there was both unnerving and calming, working to both alert her shinobi senses as well as bring ease to her solitude. It was a welcomed comfort to her already erratic mind. And as she knelt down beside the most recent of headstones to be erected, Tenten could not help but give in to the small smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. Admittedly, it was always nice to sit in the silence of the cemetery, away from busy streets of Konoha so filled with innocent people who knew nothing of the true ways of the world.
Careful and methodically, she worked to brush aside the dirt that had managed to gather and collect in the small crevices, letting her fingers linger over the name engraved into the hard marble. Having witness such truths with her line of work, like most in her profession the kunoichi had grown to cherish all that life had to offer while still remembering those who were no longer with them. But that still did not make it any easier to move on.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when they…” she began, finding that she could not seem to finish the sentence, “I just couldn’t…not like this.”
They had stood as strong pillars in her life as well as in the lives of all those they touched, inspiring others to do better and be more than what they could ever hope to be. They were great leaders of their generation, destined to be legends in the history books; forever remembered by all those who follow after. Tenten could only hope to achieve such a feat before she joined them on the other side.
I will make you proud of me, she quietly vowed to the heavens, knowing that those who waited for her on the other side could hear it.
“You would have been proud,” a soft voice belonging only to a female interrupted, “Konohamaru was very brave and handled himself like a true Sarutobi.”
“Tch,” the younger kunoichi scoffed, “That’s more than I can say for myself.”
Drawn by the soft sway of the grass under her feet, the steel goddess glanced back over the soft curve of her shoulder towards the rising sun and greeted the approaching figure with a quiet and respectful nod. Even at such an early hour, the Jounin instructor of Team 8 still looked as radiant and calm as ever, though her steps appeared more weary than usual. But she supposed, everyone’s mood had been a little more morbid during the past few days since the news had spread about Asuma’s death.
“You give yourself far too little credit, Tenten,” Kurenai commented softly as she walked up beside the young girl.
Whether the older kunoichi knew it or not, a pale hand was protectively press against the woman’s stomach as if out of habit and Tenten could not help but find some amusement in that. It would still be another few weeks before the physical signs of her pregnancy would become really noticeable, giving more definition to the slight curve of her belly that she already had now. But it seemed that the Jounin’s unconscious behavior more than made up for nature’s discretion. To Tenten, they were true signs of motherhood.
“Shouldn’t you be resting in your condition?” the younger kunoichi inquired, quirking a curious brow.
“How did you - ?” the elder began to question, her eyes widening a fraction in shock.
“We’re a family of shinobis,” the Chuunin interrupted without missing a beat, smiling fondly at the lingering thought, “There’s little that we can keep from each other.”
“Hm,” Kurenai scoffed lightly with a smile of her own, “I suppose I should have expected as much.”
Exchanging a brief look of understanding, the kunoichis settled into a tolerable silence; letting the atmosphere of the hallowed grounds bring peace to their troubling minds. In Tenten’s experience, the road to recovering was not be an easy one and would be more difficult now than ever before. While previously she had a solid foundation to lean and rely on to help her through, now she would have to stand as a pillar for others.
“He would have been a great father,” she mumbled softly to the older kunoichi.
“He already was a great father,” Kurenai responded, causing the former to glance up at her curiously, “I saw how he was with you and Konohamaru after the Sandaime died, and how he lead his team.”
“…Yeah,” Tenten agreed, nodding at the truth of her words, “I guess you’re right.”
“And you will do a fine job with Konohamaru as well,” the Jounin added, placing a hand on the young girl’s shoulder in comfort.
Despite knowing that the responsibility of taking guardianship over the young shinobi in training and being prepared to perform her duty as the boy’s last surviving relative, Tenten could not help but tense at the woman’s words. Caring for someone else’s needs would be hard and taxing, especially with someone who idolized the number one prankster of the village, Uzumaki Naruto. She was only sixteen years old and barely on her own. Would she be able to provide for the both of them the means to survive?
“I’m not so sure about that,” the weapon mistress somberly muttered in response, to both her mental inquiries and to Kurenai’s previous statement, “I know that am the leader of this family now, but I don’t know what to do.”
“None of us do,” came the woman’s cliché words of comfort, “We just have to get through it as best as we can.”
Strangely enough, no matter how overused those few lines were or how many times she had heard it during the week that preceded the funeral as well as the days that followed after, Tenten felt slightly calmed by them. It reminded her that not everyone knew the answers and that they all were simply just fumbling through life with the same concerns, doubts and questions; each searching for a resolution that could never truly be found.
“All I know is that Asuma trusted you enough to put Konohamaru in your care when he left,” the elder kunoichi added, finally taking a moment to kneel down and place a single white rose on top of the new headstone, “Find comfort in that.”
“So…is this where we’re supposed to go from here?” the young agent of the leaf questioned, holding out a hand to help the pregnant woman back up, “Is this how we move on?”
“I don’t know,” was Kurenai’s only response, a twinkle of a smile trapped within the depths of her blazing read eyes, “But it’s a start.”
- To make an end is to make a beginning. Those were the words that had been in my family for generations. And they were true enough, I suppose. The start of a new adventure cannot be possible without finishing the one before it. The coming of a new generation is not possible without the old stepping down from their coveted positions of power. It’s a cycle in life that is ever turning, perpetual and endless. Because like my grandfather always said, ’The end is where we start from.’ And in that respect, I suppose that the beginning is where we end up. -
