endless_scrolls (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endless_scrolls) wrote2009-07-29 08:41 am
endless_scrolls) wrote2009-07-29 08:41 am
Entry tags:
Log: Phyx A Life and Death Matter
Title: A Life and Death Matter
Type: RP log
Fandom: AU!Naruto
Character(s): Tenten, Kaguya Kimimaro; brief mentions of Orochimaru
Pairing(s): ...Small hints of Kimi/Ten if you squint reeeally hard?
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: I own only the part that I played in this.
Note: Log originally started for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
asphyxia_rp RP comm, but never finished.
Dedicated to: Kimimaro. The sickly need love too. ;~;
Carefully, Tenten chose her steps and proceeded down the narrow passageway as quickly as she could. A little tumble here would result in a huge fall, possibly all the way to the bottom hundreds of feet below where the secret entrance to the Underground laid hidden. And she was already on the tail-end of a recovery for her ankle that she had sprained a few weeks before. Another one would surely place a stop in her own business on the surface, someone in the Lower Tier of the city could not afford.
But the young woman knew the way well, had traversed it on several occasions. And thanks to a little help from Underground scientists, the trip was easier to make. Tenten was not concerned about that though. Time was working against her.
It had been a few good minutes, perhaps half an hour, since she had left the tracks of the subway behind, squeezing through the crack in the wall in order to follow a more secret path. Because if it had been out in the open and easy to find, Spirix officials would have destroyed the tunnel systems long ago. The trip was hard as always, but slowly the trail was worn into the old rock, making it less of a hassle every time. She was a professional after all, and had been delivering supplies to this particular client for a good while now. It only made sense.
What did not, was the fact that Kimimaro was nowhere in sight. A strange thing indeed since she had always known him to be rather punctual. Annoyingly so, in fact. "Hm..."
Brows furrowed, she settled herself against a nearby wall, one that did not look like it was ready to crumble at any given moment, and decided to wait a little while longer before jumping to conclusions. The Underground was a tightly organized group, after all. Its secrets could not be easily discovered. Even if the government were suspicious of their activities, there still would have been some sort of warning beforehand. At least, that was what she hoped.
Kimimaro was usually quite punctual. Kimimaro hated it when people were late, or kept him waiting - he had a limited amount of time, already - so he in turn hated making people wait on him.
Kimimaro, quite frankly, was stark raving sick.
For the length Tenten had to travel to meet up at their rendezvous point, the pale-haired man had to match it step for step. A compromise had been made long ago between the two. The Kaguya simply would not step foot outside of the Underground without the permission of his Master, so the concept of him meeting his informer at the entrance to the Underground was out of the question. The fresh air might simply be too tempting to his aching lungs. So they had decided to meet exactly halfway, from the start of one of the few entrances dotting Spirix to the end of that very same entrance, where it came out on the highest level in the Underground itself.
There was only one problem.
Tenten traveled down. Kimimaro had to travel up.
The sharp incline before him was daunting, and the sickly man could only stare at it with cold, incredulous eyes. Any other day, he might not have hated that path as much. Any other day, he might have enjoyed the brief, thought fleeting, excursion up that hidden pathway. That day, the pale-haired man just happened to be knocking on death's door. If he had waited any longer to make the trip to acquire the medicine he needed, he might not have been physically capable of trekking upwards so far. He was having a rough time of it, as is.
Sighing in resignation, the man began the hellish journey upwards, gritting his teeth and heaving his failing body forward in such a way that gave it no time to protest his abusive actions. It seemed by sheer willpower alone that he climbed upwards, the already steep incline getting steeper as he went. The path was straight for a few moments, and continued to go on up, but after several minutes, the Kaguya broke off of the main path and slid into a tiny space hidden in the shadows on the right. For five or so minutes he squeezed through that small crack in the rock, feeling the entire time as if the rock was going to cave in and crush him. After what felt like a small eternity, the tiny crag opened up, and continued to open up until it had formed into a large cavern beyond. A pocket in the mixture of rock, dirt, and cement that made up the "earth" below Spirix.
Like most everything else nowadays, it was fake, too.
On the far wall of the cavern, if one had enough light to shine in that direction (There were no artificial lights to brighten the way, once one moved off the main path.), they would find a huge mausoleum of cracks and crevices adorning the rock face beyond, like some massive fist had come by and slammed into the unsuspecting rock. It was a veritable maze of craggy, half-open pathways, that all led down into the earth below in intricate, delicate weaves - a maze within a maze - except for one. Amongst the many, only one was the true path, and even to a trained eye it was hard to pick out.
Kimimaro had traveled this way more times than he could count, and so chose the correct way without hesitation, holding the ancient lantern he had brought with him out in front of him. He liked old things. The incline lessened, here, and he knew he was coming closer towards the rendezvous point. A glance at his old-style watch proved that he was already several minutes late. Several twists and turns later, and the pale-haired man emerged from a hidden crevice set far back into the shadows of a larger, open cavern.
Tenten stood near the center, and undoubtedly had been kept waiting for a little while by now. He knew this, because she had always been on time before, one thing he appreciated about her assistance. Her punctuality was impeccable.
Even here, far below the dirt and cement and rock mixture, Kimimaro could taste the difference in the air. It wasn't a pleasant difference - in fact, the rendezvous point had worse airflow than the Underground itself. It was too far away from the surface to catch any air from the Spire, and too far away from the Underground to catch any air from the generators. It was like a limbo, a hellish mixture of stale air and nothingness. It was hard to breathe, and to Kimi's already straining lungs, it was simply torture.
He hailed Tenten once, briefly, before pulling back his hand to cover his mouth right before another coughing fit struck. The harsh, hacking sound echoed off the cavern walls, lasting a few more seconds even after Kimimaro was finished. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood. He paid that no mind. Such things were normal, to him. Offhandedly, he wiped his hand along his pants leg, bloodying the fabric.
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting." Might as well get the apologies and formalities over with. He wanted his drugs, and he wanted them now.
To her, being late was very much associated with severing the ties that kept her life in order. For two main reasons. Firstly, because it would place a dark mark in her reliability with the Underground as well as risk placing doubt in her own dedication to the organization. And considering how long it had taken Tenten to enter into the Underground Faction and gain their full trust, she would be thoroughly irate if something as marginal and mediocre as a bad sense of timing expelled all her efforts. Secondly, such inconsistencies in her dealings with the rebel group would no doubt bleed into her work and costumers above ground. And without that, Tenten's own livelihood would be in jeopardy. So to ensure that neither scenario came to pass, it became a need and somewhat of a habit to ensure that Tenten would arrive to the meeting point on time, leaving room to account for any delays that could possibly arise.
Of course, such diligent planning would mean nothing if the other half of the exchange failed to show up at all.
Opting to distract herself from the wait, the young woman seated herself on a decrepit piece of ancient stone and began the meticulous process of checking for any scraps or scratches that she might have gotten on the way down. Because as tight and narrow as the passageways were, and as deceivingly dull the protruding rock surrounding her might have appeared, there was never an occasion that Tenten returned to her home without a few extra reminders of her journey. Battle wounds, as she liked to call them. Small things, mostly. Easily concealed so that others might not be tempted to inquire where they had come from. At least, most of the time.
A facial cut, however, would certainly be hard to discreetly cover up. But that was where cleverly designed excuses would come in handy.
It had only seemed like a minor irritation at the time, an annoying itch that began to sting the more she thought of it. But slowly, as Tenten brushed her fingers over the round curve of her cheek, it evolved into a dull a pinprick of pain where pressure was applied. And when she drew her slender digits away, blotched across the skin were streaks of red. Blood. Her blood.
Her brows furrowed while her eyes scanned over the crimson smears. Nothing more than a shallow nick of her skin. Meaning that it would not scar after healing. But no time was spent further on the matter as Tenten wiped the excess on the cloth of her pants and moved on. No point in concerning herself over a small cut. From the consistency and thickness of the sample, she could tell that the blood had already begun to congeal and close up the wound. Her body would take care of the rest.
Standing to her feet, the young metalsmith continued the inspection process, checking any and all areas that she could. A torn sleeve here, a ripped hole there. Nothing that could not be easily fixed. She was simply glad to find only minor contusions and similar or lesser scraps like the one on her face. It would mean less explanations to account for when everything was all said and done. The rest would simply have to wait until Tenten found herself with trustworthy company. Because as endeared as she might have been to Kimimaro , even he held his fair share of possible deception -- being a part of an organization that went against the government was not such an innocent endeavor -- and as long as the two had been dealing in secret, there was still very little that Tenten knew about him beyond what was on the surface.
It was then that said person appeared, stepping out of the shadows as always. Smoothly, she rolled the hem of her shirt back over the scratch that spanned across Tenten's stomach and turned to face him. And immediately cringed just the tiniest bit when the pale young man slid into a coughing fit. They would come on occasion during their meetings, mostly because Kimimaro was in desperate need of the medications Tenten had been charged to bring down for him. Still, it did not stop the small pang of sympathy from forming within herself. Had she not already known that he would only scorn her for the sentiment,Tenten would have offered more of what she could in order to ease his suffering. Even just a little. As it stood, the young woman could only avert her gaze when he finally pulled back with a handful of blood. Unnecessary on her part, perhaps since they were common between the two. But such moments were private and not for her eyes. She would respect Kimimaro that much to give him that.
"I've waited for longer with others, for less profit than I would get from you." Tenten admitted, idly gesturing with a simple wave of her hand. And for the most part, it was true. What she refrained to mention was that the reason behind those instances involved the repayment of debts. That part,Kimimaro could do without. "Besides, I figured only the most dire of circumstances would've kept you away... Especially now." Intently but rather unintentionally, she cast her gaze downward at the dark red splotch decorating his pants a moment before returning them up to his own once more.
Kimimaro nodded once, letting his gaze trail from the rock walls of the cavern over towards the woman on the other side. She had become familiar to him over time; the casual clothes, the long brown hair most usually tied up in a messy fashion, the dirt and grime from a long walk all the way from the surface. He supposed he probably looked familiar to her, too, by now. His blank pale features, and strikingly white hair - the near-femininity of his cheek bones, his jaw, his nose... The bloody lips, and the way his mouth seemed to tilt down slightly in a permanent almost-scowl.
Slowly, Kimi moved forward, measuring every step, keeping eye contact with her and making sure his arms were spaced at a comfortable distance away from his body, hands clearly detached from any pockets that might have held some kind of concealed weapon. It had become an unspoken habit for him to act in such a cautious manner at first, reinforcing the assurance that he did not intend to attack her. Despite his illness, the Kaguya could be quite intimidating. When he had enough strength, Kimimaro could do quite a bit of damage towards anyone he considered unworthy of living. He blamed the ability on his heritage. Being raised in the Tribes did something to you. Especially under a clan such as his.
Inwardly shaking his head of these thoughts, the pale-haired man turned his attention once again towards Tenten, his eerily bright jade eyes searching her form, instantly seeking out any sign of the possessions he had asked for. She kept them well-hidden on her form, and a part of him was thankful for that. It meant anyone else looking wouldn't have immediately found her carrying around a suspicious amount of drugs - enough to give even the most tolerant addict a wild trip.
"Mm," he said in response to her reply. It was true enough, so he let the matter of his tardiness slide. "How was your trip?" More formalities. He would have rather gotten straight to the point, but the risk of insulting his only source to the surface was too dangerous to think about. He needed her. For his Master.
Tenten only knew of a handful of ways to reach the Underground. A good number of them were narrow with barely enough room for one person to pass at a time. And even then it was with some difficulty. Others were of decent size, just wide enough to lead a small company through without rousing suspicion. -- She would only utilize those when a bit more space was a necessity. -- But those were more concealed and harder to reach without risking detection. All were well hidden from the spying eye of the government. With good reason.
Suspicion was a nasty beast to deal with in Spirix. And a tough one to get rid of once it found purpose.
So she had gotten into the habit of taking the more difficult roads in her trips. Because there was less of a risk of anyone attempting to follow her in secret if she took to those ways. And always, Tenten was searching for more paths. More possibilities. After all, the more the young woman knew of the secret ways, the better she would be able to serve the Underground. However, the tight passages left little room for much movement. Namely a way to safely transport the items she was charged to bring with her for their exchanges. And so the process of carrying the medicines and supplies slowly evolved from a novel talent to an art-form. And that was difficult enough to do considering what little she had to work with. After all, it had to appear as if she were carrying nothing.
Her clothes were not particularly skin-tight, but they were more cut and tailored to fit closer to her body than what she normally would wear. Only then could Tenten avoid tearing up an entire set of clothes every time she would venture down towards the bowels of the city. She could not afford the time it would take to scavenge for a new wardrobe every few months because her old one was tattered beyond use or repair. Plus, the novelty of it provided extra assurance for Kimimaro's sake. Suspicion of her betraying him would be less founded if there was no visible way the young woman could conceal a decent sized weapon.
Still, it was only with an established level of trust that this arrangement had gone on for as long as it had.
"The trip was rough, as usual. Obviously." With a nonchalant shift of her head, the young woman gestured to the tears and scrapes littered about her persons. "But nothing I haven't endured before." Step for step, Tenten copied the other's movements as they approached one another. A dance of sorts that they would normally do to stay the both of their suspicions. And with that easy reply, slow and steady, she raised her hands up to reveal the bare skin of her forearms, indicating that there was nothing there that could harm him. "And yours? Ran into a snag today? Or did we wait a little too long to arrange this meeting?"
He watched her with calm eyes, not letting his guard down, yet still confident in the assurance that they had been in contact for quite from while, and she hadn't attacked him yet. Such small things couldn't simply go unnoticed, after all. Several moments passed after Tenten had asked her questions, and Kimimaro took that time to survey the rock around them, eyes briefly scanning over the tiny crack and crevices as if trying to determine whether or not someone was hiding in the darkness. It was only a halfhearted gesture - he trusted her more than that.
Well. He didn't necessarily trust her, but rather the fact that she was smarter than to attempt something like that. The pale man might have been weak, but he definitely had his frighteningly strong moments.
Drawing in another labored breath, Kimimaro turned bright emerald eyes back onto the woman standing a few yards away. He let his gaze travel across her form, assessing what she wore, and finally settled his apathetic look onto her eyes.
"It has been a while," he reminded, but said nothing more of the matter. Kimimaro had never been one to divulge in personal information. The only reason people knew about his sickness was because it wasn't exactly easy to hide. Despite what Tayuya might have liked to say, he rarely complained about his illness - unless coughing at inoprtune moments throughout the day could be considered 'complaining'. It was a way of life, not something he could endure until it got better. It never would get better, and that was simple fact.
Clearing his throat from excess blood - he could taste it on his tongue - the pale-haired man tilted his head in Tenten's direction.
"Do you have what I asked for?" Back to the point. Time to cut to the chase.
After a moment, she lowered her arms and let them rest idly at her sides. And with that, the young woman took on a more relaxed disposition, although her senses were still on full alert to what was going on around them. Tenten was safe from any attack from him, yes. But only as long as her usefulness lasted. And things like that were often fickle arrangements, prone to changing at a moment's notice, leaving her discarded and out in the open for the carrion birds to peck out the remainder of her life. And should that happen, the young metalsmith might as well welcome death to her doorstep for all the resources she would lose in the process. If Kimimaro needed more assurance than that of Tenten's intentions, then their many transactions through the years were for nothing but convenience.
He was not one to be underestimated. Indeed, most in the Underground Organization were recruited for a reason and a purpose. It was like a well oiled machine, carefully contrived and constructed in a way that would most benefit the whole. Otherwise, what was the point? Nothing was wasted, not even the manpower and resources that were at their disposal. So while the other's health put his position into question, she knew that there had to be much more to him than what could be seen on the surface. -- A fitting comparison considering who they both worked for. -- And that called for a lingering level of caution on Tenten's part.
"Would I be here if I didn't?" she quipped in return. Because what other reason would Tenten have to be there other than to trade one item of importance for another? Supplies were easier to gather on the surface, yes. But that did not mean it was as simple as that in procuring them. She was neither a doctor nor in the position to gain access to such medications without there being questions or roadblocks along the way. Risks were taken. Compensations were expected. And as loyal to the cause as she was, Tenten was not foolish. There had to be a payoff on her end as well.
"With the amount I got you last time, I expected you to ask for these sooner." Slowly so as not to rouse his suspicions even further, she reached around her back, calloused fingers brushing along the inner lining of her clothes, until they closed on their target: Kimimaro's medication in carefully crafted cloth bags. "Wouldn't want you to die on me, right?"
Bottles were too hard to conceal and left room enough for the pills to rattle about with every move that she made. Plastic bags made too much noise while she moved and ripped easily. Cloth on the other hand, was perfect. And as she held them out for the other to see, Tenten could not help but wave them around a little in an almost teasing and taunting manner. "So, what have you got for me?"
He wasn't appreciative of the taunting, but only stood there, arms crossed, as she waved his package in front of him. The pills that sustained his life were within arms reach, but self-control kept him from lunging forward and snatching them up. It was impolite, on one hand, and it was a show of weakness, on the other. If his Master had taught him anything, it was that strong men survived the trials life had given them. Well, Kimimaro was still alive when he didn't deserve living, and he had the one person he had failed, to thank for that.
Shaking these despairing thoughts from his head, the white-haired man reached inside the pocket of a pouch attached to his hip, and pulled out a package of his own.
"Upper Tier metalwork," he explained, holding out a glimmering slate of crystal-like substance. It was the same kind of building material used to create the Spire, a shimmering bright slab of super-dense metal with properties not unlike steel, only harder and more lightweight. If superheated, it was easy to mold and bend, and at extremely high pressures, it became flexible, bending enough to give but never enough to break. A shipment of the substance had been tossed down the trash heap a few days ago, and the workers of the Second Level had gathered it up and sectioned it off to its own cavern for storage. It couldn't be burned, and in essence was only taking up valuable space, but really, they had nowhere else to keep it. Eventually, the metal would be used for buildings of their own, but at the moment the Underground had no use for such a thing.
Kimimaro himself had stolen a few smaller shards, gathering up some sheets under the assumption that it might interest his informant. Knowledge wasn't cheap, after all, and no one could expect a spy to go unpaid. Tenten was kind, but not that kind.
"It's easy to mold for weaponry." He knew, he had tried.
After that brief explanation, his eyes averted back to the cloth in her hand, waiting almost expectantly.
It had only been intended to lighten the mood, though she knew Kimimaro would find it less than amusing. Their lives and everything that was required -- everything that was at risk -- to have each meeting were all too serious enough without adding to it. Professionalism held its place, and Tenten was more than capable of maintaining such a facade when necessary. But the both of them had been doing this for far too long.
Any further attempt or want to show such fled as soon as the young man pulled out the item he intended to exchange for her troubles.
The moment the scrap of metal came into view, she knew exactly he held in his hand. For someone who worked with several different variations and combinations of metals in her lifetime, it would have been a rarity for Tenten to not recognize them in an instant except in the most obscure of circumstances. And this crystalline-metal by product was certainly not one of those occasions. But she only ever recalled seeing it once before, several years before when her father managed to barter for a sample from a black-market trader in the Middle Tier. And the end result of all his effort stood hanging on the wall of her back room back at the shop, sheathed and perfectly preserved for no one else but her. One of the greatest works Shirou had ever created with his own hands.
"I know..." came Tenten's smooth and even response, the memory of it still lingering in the edges of her mind's consciousness, "I'm a bit surprised it managed to make it all the way down here, and a decent amount of it too."
Honey-brown eyes trailed over the shimmering surface as she stepped in closer, the optical implants only heightening the details in the image that transmitted through Tenten's system. Even despite the dim lighting in the ragged and jagged tunnels. -- Underground technology at its finest. None quite like it in all of Spirix. -- This was always the most difficult part of the transaction, the point where a deal could be ended at any moment. Where either one of them could be betrayed. Only out of pure habit and familiarity did the young woman extend her hand out, presenting him with the pills without hesitation. Thus were the conditions of their trust that he would do the same.
And, like all the other times, Kimimaro hesitated a moment before presenting his own findings. It wasn't out of suspicion, and it wasn't out of fear, but in those last moments it had become habit for him to size her up one more time, to analyze the posture of her body and make sure a betrayal wasn't inevitable. She had been trustworthy so far, but Kimimaro knew more than most how very little trust mattered in the long run. Still, actions spoke louder than words, and Tenten had yet to betray him, or his cause.
He liked to think it was his superior skills in holding back what little information he wanted to keep from the woman, but knew such thoughts were hollow sentiments. He wasn't arrogant enough to believe he could out best a spy, especially if said spy was determined to gather what knowledge they could about a particular subject. Kimimaro was quiet most days, blunt on others, and he had never appreciated beating around the bush unless it would serve his Master's purposes. Quite frankly, the pale-haired man just wasn't spy material.
Orochimaru-sama had other uses for him, though, and for that he was infinitely grateful. What other man would take in a dying human, when that dying human could do little to nothing to help their cause? Kimi was eternally indebted to his Master for doing just that.
But, shaking those thoughts away, the Kyuuga completed his end of the transaction, pulling out the rest of the sheets of metal and holding them outwards, stretched towards the woman who was holding his life source in the palm of her own hand. He took a step closer, measured, precise, and lifted his left hand in a slow motion, waiting for her to deposit his medication in his palm before he did the same for her.
It was like a dance, really.
It had always made her nervous when he would hesitate. Would pause just long enough for Tenten to begin suspecting in that small breath of space while her paranoia began to take control. Despite knowing better. Or rather, hoping that she knew him well enough to know better. But there had been too many occasions where such beliefs were proven false. And even after so long, there was always that small part of the informant's psyche that would find enough cause and reason to justify her belief that Kimimaro would finally take that last step towards betrayal. A silly notion, really, considering the both of them held a strong reliance in the other. He was her connection to the Underground, where otherwise, Tenten would still be searching the endless maze of tunnels. And in return, she was his gateway to a prolonged life, his anchor to keep him in this world just a little bit longer with the drugs he needed to sustain his mysterious illness.
They needed each other. And perhaps, that was reason enough to keep the suspicions at bay.
She spared him another glance before her zeroing in on the sheets of crystalline-metal he pulled out, eyeing them with great interest. They would certainly turn a profit should she decide to sell them, both as raw material and as the result of her careful crafting. Better quality steel meant better quality weapons, after all. Which meant more money people would be willing to pay in order to possess such an item.
Following his lead like a careful dance, Tenten took another calculated step closer -- ever closer -- until she held the bag of pills over his opened palm. In much the same breath of time, she stretched out her hand in a similar manner until it was poised and hovering under the shadow of the offered metal. And from there, it became a perfect struggle of nature and tendencies. A twisted game of chicken. It was then that the metallurgist shifted her gaze to the other, locking eyes with Kimimaro while they both waited in thrilled anticipation. Another moment spent in deafening pause -- another moment spent wondering -- and she let the fabric slowly slip from her slender fingers.
He didn't move to catch it, didn't tighten his muscles or make any sudden, unnecessary motions to frighten his informant. Kimimaro simply let the fabric land gently in his palm, dropping his own materials the moment that comfortable weight settled on his hand. A long release of breath, and the aftermath of their dance washed over him like a giddy wave. It always brought him great pleasure when an objective had been successfully completed. Taking a step back to put some distance between them, the pale-haired man turned to tuck away his prize in the pack he had been carrying, then twisted back around to face Tenten once again.
Emerald eyes studied her for a while, taking in her form, the dirtiness that had accumulated along her clothes and skin as a result of traveling down to meet him. He no doubt looked just as filthy, pale skin and equally pale clothes spattered with bits of grime. Appearances mattered little to him, however, though despite these sentiments his translucent features held a certain ethereal quality to them. Kimimaro, a naturally ghostly man, had only emphasized his features by his years living below the ground, below the city, and below what most would call 'civilization'. He was dedicated to his cause, though, and felt no remorse for the odd location.
"Thank you." He tilted his head towards Tenten, ever polite. (A habit he had picked up from Orochimaru-sama. Only gentlemen were allowed to dance, after all.)
It was those moments when time seemed to simply stop altogether. When her prize was just a mere breath away from coming into her possession that Tenten took the opportunity to really look at the other. His pale skin was something to be noted the instant he appeared, surrounded by darkness and speckled with dirt from his journey up. No so different than she looked from the journey down,Tenten supposed. But from this proximity, standing so close to him, all of the defining the details fell into place.
The blue lines of veins mapped out along his skin. The pink flush of life dusted here and there to show that Kimimaro was, indeed, very much still alive and kicking. Sickly though he was, the man's vitality was certainly in working order. And that was something to admire.Tenten had seen the conditions those of the Underground were subjected to, brief and not nearly as extreme as the stories she had heard about what really went on in the dark crevices of the earth. But it had been enough to appreciate the sort of person Kimimaro had turned out to be. So much different than she expected.
Not everything is what it seems, she learned.
And in an instance, the moment passed. The sudden weight of the metal pressing down on her arm and flexing muscles brought her back to the reality they all wanted to forget. Try as they might. But with a simple shake of her head,Tenten easily broke free of her daze and fell back into the role they both knew well. "No. Thank you."
Tugging up the cuff of her pants, the young metallurgist was already pulling at the straps fitted snugly to her leg, loosening them up enough to slip the metal sheets of tempered and synthetic steel into place. Leaving her hands and body free to move when Tenten made her way back up to the surface. But the exchange was not over just quite yet. There was still one more matter to discuss before they would go their separate ways.
"What news of the Underground?" Tenten inquired, already rolling down the fabric of her pants to cover up the rare metals hidden underneath, "Anything I should know of?"
Type: RP log
Fandom: AU!Naruto
Character(s): Tenten, Kaguya Kimimaro; brief mentions of Orochimaru
Pairing(s): ...Small hints of Kimi/Ten if you squint reeeally hard?
Warning(s): None
Disclaimer: I own only the part that I played in this.
Note: Log originally started for the
asphyxia_rp RP comm, but never finished. Dedicated to: Kimimaro. The sickly need love too. ;~;
Carefully, Tenten chose her steps and proceeded down the narrow passageway as quickly as she could. A little tumble here would result in a huge fall, possibly all the way to the bottom hundreds of feet below where the secret entrance to the Underground laid hidden. And she was already on the tail-end of a recovery for her ankle that she had sprained a few weeks before. Another one would surely place a stop in her own business on the surface, someone in the Lower Tier of the city could not afford.
But the young woman knew the way well, had traversed it on several occasions. And thanks to a little help from Underground scientists, the trip was easier to make. Tenten was not concerned about that though. Time was working against her.
It had been a few good minutes, perhaps half an hour, since she had left the tracks of the subway behind, squeezing through the crack in the wall in order to follow a more secret path. Because if it had been out in the open and easy to find, Spirix officials would have destroyed the tunnel systems long ago. The trip was hard as always, but slowly the trail was worn into the old rock, making it less of a hassle every time. She was a professional after all, and had been delivering supplies to this particular client for a good while now. It only made sense.
What did not, was the fact that Kimimaro was nowhere in sight. A strange thing indeed since she had always known him to be rather punctual. Annoyingly so, in fact. "Hm..."
Brows furrowed, she settled herself against a nearby wall, one that did not look like it was ready to crumble at any given moment, and decided to wait a little while longer before jumping to conclusions. The Underground was a tightly organized group, after all. Its secrets could not be easily discovered. Even if the government were suspicious of their activities, there still would have been some sort of warning beforehand. At least, that was what she hoped.
Kimimaro was usually quite punctual. Kimimaro hated it when people were late, or kept him waiting - he had a limited amount of time, already - so he in turn hated making people wait on him.
Kimimaro, quite frankly, was stark raving sick.
For the length Tenten had to travel to meet up at their rendezvous point, the pale-haired man had to match it step for step. A compromise had been made long ago between the two. The Kaguya simply would not step foot outside of the Underground without the permission of his Master, so the concept of him meeting his informer at the entrance to the Underground was out of the question. The fresh air might simply be too tempting to his aching lungs. So they had decided to meet exactly halfway, from the start of one of the few entrances dotting Spirix to the end of that very same entrance, where it came out on the highest level in the Underground itself.
There was only one problem.
Tenten traveled down. Kimimaro had to travel up.
The sharp incline before him was daunting, and the sickly man could only stare at it with cold, incredulous eyes. Any other day, he might not have hated that path as much. Any other day, he might have enjoyed the brief, thought fleeting, excursion up that hidden pathway. That day, the pale-haired man just happened to be knocking on death's door. If he had waited any longer to make the trip to acquire the medicine he needed, he might not have been physically capable of trekking upwards so far. He was having a rough time of it, as is.
Sighing in resignation, the man began the hellish journey upwards, gritting his teeth and heaving his failing body forward in such a way that gave it no time to protest his abusive actions. It seemed by sheer willpower alone that he climbed upwards, the already steep incline getting steeper as he went. The path was straight for a few moments, and continued to go on up, but after several minutes, the Kaguya broke off of the main path and slid into a tiny space hidden in the shadows on the right. For five or so minutes he squeezed through that small crack in the rock, feeling the entire time as if the rock was going to cave in and crush him. After what felt like a small eternity, the tiny crag opened up, and continued to open up until it had formed into a large cavern beyond. A pocket in the mixture of rock, dirt, and cement that made up the "earth" below Spirix.
Like most everything else nowadays, it was fake, too.
On the far wall of the cavern, if one had enough light to shine in that direction (There were no artificial lights to brighten the way, once one moved off the main path.), they would find a huge mausoleum of cracks and crevices adorning the rock face beyond, like some massive fist had come by and slammed into the unsuspecting rock. It was a veritable maze of craggy, half-open pathways, that all led down into the earth below in intricate, delicate weaves - a maze within a maze - except for one. Amongst the many, only one was the true path, and even to a trained eye it was hard to pick out.
Kimimaro had traveled this way more times than he could count, and so chose the correct way without hesitation, holding the ancient lantern he had brought with him out in front of him. He liked old things. The incline lessened, here, and he knew he was coming closer towards the rendezvous point. A glance at his old-style watch proved that he was already several minutes late. Several twists and turns later, and the pale-haired man emerged from a hidden crevice set far back into the shadows of a larger, open cavern.
Tenten stood near the center, and undoubtedly had been kept waiting for a little while by now. He knew this, because she had always been on time before, one thing he appreciated about her assistance. Her punctuality was impeccable.
Even here, far below the dirt and cement and rock mixture, Kimimaro could taste the difference in the air. It wasn't a pleasant difference - in fact, the rendezvous point had worse airflow than the Underground itself. It was too far away from the surface to catch any air from the Spire, and too far away from the Underground to catch any air from the generators. It was like a limbo, a hellish mixture of stale air and nothingness. It was hard to breathe, and to Kimi's already straining lungs, it was simply torture.
He hailed Tenten once, briefly, before pulling back his hand to cover his mouth right before another coughing fit struck. The harsh, hacking sound echoed off the cavern walls, lasting a few more seconds even after Kimimaro was finished. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood. He paid that no mind. Such things were normal, to him. Offhandedly, he wiped his hand along his pants leg, bloodying the fabric.
"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting." Might as well get the apologies and formalities over with. He wanted his drugs, and he wanted them now.
To her, being late was very much associated with severing the ties that kept her life in order. For two main reasons. Firstly, because it would place a dark mark in her reliability with the Underground as well as risk placing doubt in her own dedication to the organization. And considering how long it had taken Tenten to enter into the Underground Faction and gain their full trust, she would be thoroughly irate if something as marginal and mediocre as a bad sense of timing expelled all her efforts. Secondly, such inconsistencies in her dealings with the rebel group would no doubt bleed into her work and costumers above ground. And without that, Tenten's own livelihood would be in jeopardy. So to ensure that neither scenario came to pass, it became a need and somewhat of a habit to ensure that Tenten would arrive to the meeting point on time, leaving room to account for any delays that could possibly arise.
Of course, such diligent planning would mean nothing if the other half of the exchange failed to show up at all.
Opting to distract herself from the wait, the young woman seated herself on a decrepit piece of ancient stone and began the meticulous process of checking for any scraps or scratches that she might have gotten on the way down. Because as tight and narrow as the passageways were, and as deceivingly dull the protruding rock surrounding her might have appeared, there was never an occasion that Tenten returned to her home without a few extra reminders of her journey. Battle wounds, as she liked to call them. Small things, mostly. Easily concealed so that others might not be tempted to inquire where they had come from. At least, most of the time.
A facial cut, however, would certainly be hard to discreetly cover up. But that was where cleverly designed excuses would come in handy.
It had only seemed like a minor irritation at the time, an annoying itch that began to sting the more she thought of it. But slowly, as Tenten brushed her fingers over the round curve of her cheek, it evolved into a dull a pinprick of pain where pressure was applied. And when she drew her slender digits away, blotched across the skin were streaks of red. Blood. Her blood.
Her brows furrowed while her eyes scanned over the crimson smears. Nothing more than a shallow nick of her skin. Meaning that it would not scar after healing. But no time was spent further on the matter as Tenten wiped the excess on the cloth of her pants and moved on. No point in concerning herself over a small cut. From the consistency and thickness of the sample, she could tell that the blood had already begun to congeal and close up the wound. Her body would take care of the rest.
Standing to her feet, the young metalsmith continued the inspection process, checking any and all areas that she could. A torn sleeve here, a ripped hole there. Nothing that could not be easily fixed. She was simply glad to find only minor contusions and similar or lesser scraps like the one on her face. It would mean less explanations to account for when everything was all said and done. The rest would simply have to wait until Tenten found herself with trustworthy company. Because as endeared as she might have been to Kimimaro , even he held his fair share of possible deception -- being a part of an organization that went against the government was not such an innocent endeavor -- and as long as the two had been dealing in secret, there was still very little that Tenten knew about him beyond what was on the surface.
It was then that said person appeared, stepping out of the shadows as always. Smoothly, she rolled the hem of her shirt back over the scratch that spanned across Tenten's stomach and turned to face him. And immediately cringed just the tiniest bit when the pale young man slid into a coughing fit. They would come on occasion during their meetings, mostly because Kimimaro was in desperate need of the medications Tenten had been charged to bring down for him. Still, it did not stop the small pang of sympathy from forming within herself. Had she not already known that he would only scorn her for the sentiment,Tenten would have offered more of what she could in order to ease his suffering. Even just a little. As it stood, the young woman could only avert her gaze when he finally pulled back with a handful of blood. Unnecessary on her part, perhaps since they were common between the two. But such moments were private and not for her eyes. She would respect Kimimaro that much to give him that.
"I've waited for longer with others, for less profit than I would get from you." Tenten admitted, idly gesturing with a simple wave of her hand. And for the most part, it was true. What she refrained to mention was that the reason behind those instances involved the repayment of debts. That part,Kimimaro could do without. "Besides, I figured only the most dire of circumstances would've kept you away... Especially now." Intently but rather unintentionally, she cast her gaze downward at the dark red splotch decorating his pants a moment before returning them up to his own once more.
Kimimaro nodded once, letting his gaze trail from the rock walls of the cavern over towards the woman on the other side. She had become familiar to him over time; the casual clothes, the long brown hair most usually tied up in a messy fashion, the dirt and grime from a long walk all the way from the surface. He supposed he probably looked familiar to her, too, by now. His blank pale features, and strikingly white hair - the near-femininity of his cheek bones, his jaw, his nose... The bloody lips, and the way his mouth seemed to tilt down slightly in a permanent almost-scowl.
Slowly, Kimi moved forward, measuring every step, keeping eye contact with her and making sure his arms were spaced at a comfortable distance away from his body, hands clearly detached from any pockets that might have held some kind of concealed weapon. It had become an unspoken habit for him to act in such a cautious manner at first, reinforcing the assurance that he did not intend to attack her. Despite his illness, the Kaguya could be quite intimidating. When he had enough strength, Kimimaro could do quite a bit of damage towards anyone he considered unworthy of living. He blamed the ability on his heritage. Being raised in the Tribes did something to you. Especially under a clan such as his.
Inwardly shaking his head of these thoughts, the pale-haired man turned his attention once again towards Tenten, his eerily bright jade eyes searching her form, instantly seeking out any sign of the possessions he had asked for. She kept them well-hidden on her form, and a part of him was thankful for that. It meant anyone else looking wouldn't have immediately found her carrying around a suspicious amount of drugs - enough to give even the most tolerant addict a wild trip.
"Mm," he said in response to her reply. It was true enough, so he let the matter of his tardiness slide. "How was your trip?" More formalities. He would have rather gotten straight to the point, but the risk of insulting his only source to the surface was too dangerous to think about. He needed her. For his Master.
Tenten only knew of a handful of ways to reach the Underground. A good number of them were narrow with barely enough room for one person to pass at a time. And even then it was with some difficulty. Others were of decent size, just wide enough to lead a small company through without rousing suspicion. -- She would only utilize those when a bit more space was a necessity. -- But those were more concealed and harder to reach without risking detection. All were well hidden from the spying eye of the government. With good reason.
Suspicion was a nasty beast to deal with in Spirix. And a tough one to get rid of once it found purpose.
So she had gotten into the habit of taking the more difficult roads in her trips. Because there was less of a risk of anyone attempting to follow her in secret if she took to those ways. And always, Tenten was searching for more paths. More possibilities. After all, the more the young woman knew of the secret ways, the better she would be able to serve the Underground. However, the tight passages left little room for much movement. Namely a way to safely transport the items she was charged to bring with her for their exchanges. And so the process of carrying the medicines and supplies slowly evolved from a novel talent to an art-form. And that was difficult enough to do considering what little she had to work with. After all, it had to appear as if she were carrying nothing.
Her clothes were not particularly skin-tight, but they were more cut and tailored to fit closer to her body than what she normally would wear. Only then could Tenten avoid tearing up an entire set of clothes every time she would venture down towards the bowels of the city. She could not afford the time it would take to scavenge for a new wardrobe every few months because her old one was tattered beyond use or repair. Plus, the novelty of it provided extra assurance for Kimimaro's sake. Suspicion of her betraying him would be less founded if there was no visible way the young woman could conceal a decent sized weapon.
Still, it was only with an established level of trust that this arrangement had gone on for as long as it had.
"The trip was rough, as usual. Obviously." With a nonchalant shift of her head, the young woman gestured to the tears and scrapes littered about her persons. "But nothing I haven't endured before." Step for step, Tenten copied the other's movements as they approached one another. A dance of sorts that they would normally do to stay the both of their suspicions. And with that easy reply, slow and steady, she raised her hands up to reveal the bare skin of her forearms, indicating that there was nothing there that could harm him. "And yours? Ran into a snag today? Or did we wait a little too long to arrange this meeting?"
He watched her with calm eyes, not letting his guard down, yet still confident in the assurance that they had been in contact for quite from while, and she hadn't attacked him yet. Such small things couldn't simply go unnoticed, after all. Several moments passed after Tenten had asked her questions, and Kimimaro took that time to survey the rock around them, eyes briefly scanning over the tiny crack and crevices as if trying to determine whether or not someone was hiding in the darkness. It was only a halfhearted gesture - he trusted her more than that.
Well. He didn't necessarily trust her, but rather the fact that she was smarter than to attempt something like that. The pale man might have been weak, but he definitely had his frighteningly strong moments.
Drawing in another labored breath, Kimimaro turned bright emerald eyes back onto the woman standing a few yards away. He let his gaze travel across her form, assessing what she wore, and finally settled his apathetic look onto her eyes.
"It has been a while," he reminded, but said nothing more of the matter. Kimimaro had never been one to divulge in personal information. The only reason people knew about his sickness was because it wasn't exactly easy to hide. Despite what Tayuya might have liked to say, he rarely complained about his illness - unless coughing at inoprtune moments throughout the day could be considered 'complaining'. It was a way of life, not something he could endure until it got better. It never would get better, and that was simple fact.
Clearing his throat from excess blood - he could taste it on his tongue - the pale-haired man tilted his head in Tenten's direction.
"Do you have what I asked for?" Back to the point. Time to cut to the chase.
After a moment, she lowered her arms and let them rest idly at her sides. And with that, the young woman took on a more relaxed disposition, although her senses were still on full alert to what was going on around them. Tenten was safe from any attack from him, yes. But only as long as her usefulness lasted. And things like that were often fickle arrangements, prone to changing at a moment's notice, leaving her discarded and out in the open for the carrion birds to peck out the remainder of her life. And should that happen, the young metalsmith might as well welcome death to her doorstep for all the resources she would lose in the process. If Kimimaro needed more assurance than that of Tenten's intentions, then their many transactions through the years were for nothing but convenience.
He was not one to be underestimated. Indeed, most in the Underground Organization were recruited for a reason and a purpose. It was like a well oiled machine, carefully contrived and constructed in a way that would most benefit the whole. Otherwise, what was the point? Nothing was wasted, not even the manpower and resources that were at their disposal. So while the other's health put his position into question, she knew that there had to be much more to him than what could be seen on the surface. -- A fitting comparison considering who they both worked for. -- And that called for a lingering level of caution on Tenten's part.
"Would I be here if I didn't?" she quipped in return. Because what other reason would Tenten have to be there other than to trade one item of importance for another? Supplies were easier to gather on the surface, yes. But that did not mean it was as simple as that in procuring them. She was neither a doctor nor in the position to gain access to such medications without there being questions or roadblocks along the way. Risks were taken. Compensations were expected. And as loyal to the cause as she was, Tenten was not foolish. There had to be a payoff on her end as well.
"With the amount I got you last time, I expected you to ask for these sooner." Slowly so as not to rouse his suspicions even further, she reached around her back, calloused fingers brushing along the inner lining of her clothes, until they closed on their target: Kimimaro's medication in carefully crafted cloth bags. "Wouldn't want you to die on me, right?"
Bottles were too hard to conceal and left room enough for the pills to rattle about with every move that she made. Plastic bags made too much noise while she moved and ripped easily. Cloth on the other hand, was perfect. And as she held them out for the other to see, Tenten could not help but wave them around a little in an almost teasing and taunting manner. "So, what have you got for me?"
He wasn't appreciative of the taunting, but only stood there, arms crossed, as she waved his package in front of him. The pills that sustained his life were within arms reach, but self-control kept him from lunging forward and snatching them up. It was impolite, on one hand, and it was a show of weakness, on the other. If his Master had taught him anything, it was that strong men survived the trials life had given them. Well, Kimimaro was still alive when he didn't deserve living, and he had the one person he had failed, to thank for that.
Shaking these despairing thoughts from his head, the white-haired man reached inside the pocket of a pouch attached to his hip, and pulled out a package of his own.
"Upper Tier metalwork," he explained, holding out a glimmering slate of crystal-like substance. It was the same kind of building material used to create the Spire, a shimmering bright slab of super-dense metal with properties not unlike steel, only harder and more lightweight. If superheated, it was easy to mold and bend, and at extremely high pressures, it became flexible, bending enough to give but never enough to break. A shipment of the substance had been tossed down the trash heap a few days ago, and the workers of the Second Level had gathered it up and sectioned it off to its own cavern for storage. It couldn't be burned, and in essence was only taking up valuable space, but really, they had nowhere else to keep it. Eventually, the metal would be used for buildings of their own, but at the moment the Underground had no use for such a thing.
Kimimaro himself had stolen a few smaller shards, gathering up some sheets under the assumption that it might interest his informant. Knowledge wasn't cheap, after all, and no one could expect a spy to go unpaid. Tenten was kind, but not that kind.
"It's easy to mold for weaponry." He knew, he had tried.
After that brief explanation, his eyes averted back to the cloth in her hand, waiting almost expectantly.
It had only been intended to lighten the mood, though she knew Kimimaro would find it less than amusing. Their lives and everything that was required -- everything that was at risk -- to have each meeting were all too serious enough without adding to it. Professionalism held its place, and Tenten was more than capable of maintaining such a facade when necessary. But the both of them had been doing this for far too long.
Any further attempt or want to show such fled as soon as the young man pulled out the item he intended to exchange for her troubles.
The moment the scrap of metal came into view, she knew exactly he held in his hand. For someone who worked with several different variations and combinations of metals in her lifetime, it would have been a rarity for Tenten to not recognize them in an instant except in the most obscure of circumstances. And this crystalline-metal by product was certainly not one of those occasions. But she only ever recalled seeing it once before, several years before when her father managed to barter for a sample from a black-market trader in the Middle Tier. And the end result of all his effort stood hanging on the wall of her back room back at the shop, sheathed and perfectly preserved for no one else but her. One of the greatest works Shirou had ever created with his own hands.
"I know..." came Tenten's smooth and even response, the memory of it still lingering in the edges of her mind's consciousness, "I'm a bit surprised it managed to make it all the way down here, and a decent amount of it too."
Honey-brown eyes trailed over the shimmering surface as she stepped in closer, the optical implants only heightening the details in the image that transmitted through Tenten's system. Even despite the dim lighting in the ragged and jagged tunnels. -- Underground technology at its finest. None quite like it in all of Spirix. -- This was always the most difficult part of the transaction, the point where a deal could be ended at any moment. Where either one of them could be betrayed. Only out of pure habit and familiarity did the young woman extend her hand out, presenting him with the pills without hesitation. Thus were the conditions of their trust that he would do the same.
And, like all the other times, Kimimaro hesitated a moment before presenting his own findings. It wasn't out of suspicion, and it wasn't out of fear, but in those last moments it had become habit for him to size her up one more time, to analyze the posture of her body and make sure a betrayal wasn't inevitable. She had been trustworthy so far, but Kimimaro knew more than most how very little trust mattered in the long run. Still, actions spoke louder than words, and Tenten had yet to betray him, or his cause.
He liked to think it was his superior skills in holding back what little information he wanted to keep from the woman, but knew such thoughts were hollow sentiments. He wasn't arrogant enough to believe he could out best a spy, especially if said spy was determined to gather what knowledge they could about a particular subject. Kimimaro was quiet most days, blunt on others, and he had never appreciated beating around the bush unless it would serve his Master's purposes. Quite frankly, the pale-haired man just wasn't spy material.
Orochimaru-sama had other uses for him, though, and for that he was infinitely grateful. What other man would take in a dying human, when that dying human could do little to nothing to help their cause? Kimi was eternally indebted to his Master for doing just that.
But, shaking those thoughts away, the Kyuuga completed his end of the transaction, pulling out the rest of the sheets of metal and holding them outwards, stretched towards the woman who was holding his life source in the palm of her own hand. He took a step closer, measured, precise, and lifted his left hand in a slow motion, waiting for her to deposit his medication in his palm before he did the same for her.
It was like a dance, really.
It had always made her nervous when he would hesitate. Would pause just long enough for Tenten to begin suspecting in that small breath of space while her paranoia began to take control. Despite knowing better. Or rather, hoping that she knew him well enough to know better. But there had been too many occasions where such beliefs were proven false. And even after so long, there was always that small part of the informant's psyche that would find enough cause and reason to justify her belief that Kimimaro would finally take that last step towards betrayal. A silly notion, really, considering the both of them held a strong reliance in the other. He was her connection to the Underground, where otherwise, Tenten would still be searching the endless maze of tunnels. And in return, she was his gateway to a prolonged life, his anchor to keep him in this world just a little bit longer with the drugs he needed to sustain his mysterious illness.
They needed each other. And perhaps, that was reason enough to keep the suspicions at bay.
She spared him another glance before her zeroing in on the sheets of crystalline-metal he pulled out, eyeing them with great interest. They would certainly turn a profit should she decide to sell them, both as raw material and as the result of her careful crafting. Better quality steel meant better quality weapons, after all. Which meant more money people would be willing to pay in order to possess such an item.
Following his lead like a careful dance, Tenten took another calculated step closer -- ever closer -- until she held the bag of pills over his opened palm. In much the same breath of time, she stretched out her hand in a similar manner until it was poised and hovering under the shadow of the offered metal. And from there, it became a perfect struggle of nature and tendencies. A twisted game of chicken. It was then that the metallurgist shifted her gaze to the other, locking eyes with Kimimaro while they both waited in thrilled anticipation. Another moment spent in deafening pause -- another moment spent wondering -- and she let the fabric slowly slip from her slender fingers.
He didn't move to catch it, didn't tighten his muscles or make any sudden, unnecessary motions to frighten his informant. Kimimaro simply let the fabric land gently in his palm, dropping his own materials the moment that comfortable weight settled on his hand. A long release of breath, and the aftermath of their dance washed over him like a giddy wave. It always brought him great pleasure when an objective had been successfully completed. Taking a step back to put some distance between them, the pale-haired man turned to tuck away his prize in the pack he had been carrying, then twisted back around to face Tenten once again.
Emerald eyes studied her for a while, taking in her form, the dirtiness that had accumulated along her clothes and skin as a result of traveling down to meet him. He no doubt looked just as filthy, pale skin and equally pale clothes spattered with bits of grime. Appearances mattered little to him, however, though despite these sentiments his translucent features held a certain ethereal quality to them. Kimimaro, a naturally ghostly man, had only emphasized his features by his years living below the ground, below the city, and below what most would call 'civilization'. He was dedicated to his cause, though, and felt no remorse for the odd location.
"Thank you." He tilted his head towards Tenten, ever polite. (A habit he had picked up from Orochimaru-sama. Only gentlemen were allowed to dance, after all.)
It was those moments when time seemed to simply stop altogether. When her prize was just a mere breath away from coming into her possession that Tenten took the opportunity to really look at the other. His pale skin was something to be noted the instant he appeared, surrounded by darkness and speckled with dirt from his journey up. No so different than she looked from the journey down,Tenten supposed. But from this proximity, standing so close to him, all of the defining the details fell into place.
The blue lines of veins mapped out along his skin. The pink flush of life dusted here and there to show that Kimimaro was, indeed, very much still alive and kicking. Sickly though he was, the man's vitality was certainly in working order. And that was something to admire.Tenten had seen the conditions those of the Underground were subjected to, brief and not nearly as extreme as the stories she had heard about what really went on in the dark crevices of the earth. But it had been enough to appreciate the sort of person Kimimaro had turned out to be. So much different than she expected.
Not everything is what it seems, she learned.
And in an instance, the moment passed. The sudden weight of the metal pressing down on her arm and flexing muscles brought her back to the reality they all wanted to forget. Try as they might. But with a simple shake of her head,Tenten easily broke free of her daze and fell back into the role they both knew well. "No. Thank you."
Tugging up the cuff of her pants, the young metallurgist was already pulling at the straps fitted snugly to her leg, loosening them up enough to slip the metal sheets of tempered and synthetic steel into place. Leaving her hands and body free to move when Tenten made her way back up to the surface. But the exchange was not over just quite yet. There was still one more matter to discuss before they would go their separate ways.
"What news of the Underground?" Tenten inquired, already rolling down the fabric of her pants to cover up the rare metals hidden underneath, "Anything I should know of?"