endless_scrolls (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endless_scrolls) wrote2012-03-01 11:08 pm
endless_scrolls) wrote2012-03-01 11:08 pm
A Single Breath of Time
Title: A Single Breath of Time
Type: Fanfic
Fandom: Naruto
Theme: 01. The stillness of now [ Wordcount: 1565 ]
Character(s): Tenten, Sabaku no Gaara; brief mentions of Team Gai, Deidara, Temari, Nara Shikamaru, Tsunade
Pairing(s): Hints of Gaara/Tenten
Warning(s): None.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: Random series of one-shots based on the themes borrowed from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
20_aus although... it's more like 25 since I plan on doing the extra/bonus themes too. In hindsight, this is probably a bad idea for trimming back on the plot bunnies.
Dedicated to:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
indigodawn; with Love! ❤
Useless fact: 'The red string of fate, also referred to as the red thread of destiny, red thread of fate, and other variants, is an East Asian belief originating from Chinese legend and is also used in Japanese legend. [...] The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of time, place or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break. This myth is similar to the Western concept of soulmates or a twin flame.'
In her experience, everything was built on stages. Every aspect of life had degrees of measurements. A person's level of anger could range from simmering to explosive. A warrior's pride could be stubborn or it could be closer to honorable. And while someone's weakness was just that, a weakness, there was a fine line between it becoming a crippling disadvantage or a source of strength. That last bit, Tenten understood all too well. Team Gai had been full of weaknesses back then. - A spirited hopeful who could not perform the most basic of required skills. A caged bird who wanted nothing more than to fly. A nameless shadow who dreamed of nothing more than to be recognized. - Indeed, there was a scale in which everything was judged. This time was no different.
In the beginning, when she was first assigned to be his guard for the duration of the war, the air between them was manageable, if not awkwardly so. And as time passed, they only grew more comfortable around each other as the familiarity only eased the tension of having to protect a man who... could level an entire city within minutes and possess an ultimate shield that protected him from all save but the fastest among them.
Now, though...
Glancing in his direction, she could see a furrow of skin between the sharp corners of his eyes. The movement of the bijuu were becoming erratic at best. But that did not change the fact that one seemed to be heading towards Suna with each passing day. Concern for the people was a top priority, of course. He had shown as much with his battle with Deidara. But even so, a jinchuuriki would know the powers and limitations of a tailed-beast. After all, Gaara had spent most of his life battling against the will of the Shukaku. This, however... This went beyond the well-being of his village. She had seen that sort of look on his face before when it became apparent that Temari's relationship with Shikamaru went beyond camaraderie. This was a different sort of concern.
"Gaara?" - Always Gaara, never Lord Kazekage or even Sir when there was no one around. He made and pressed upon that point several times already. - "Did you hear me?"
Pulling his arm back, he let the flap of the tent fall back into place and moved away from the opening, towards his makeshift study. "...How long before we intercept the Yonbi's path?"
Scrolls and sheets of papers littered the tabletop. A few fell to the ground when he swept by and Tenten could see a number of scrolls were rolled out across the span of the desk. And with the wind blowing and swirling as it was, there seemed to be pockets of sand every nook and cranny within sight. And probably some outside of it. Not that sand was an unfamiliar aspect around Gaara. But it was a scene she was more accustomed to seeing in Lady Tsunade's office, not his. As respected as the Sannin was and much as Tenten idolized the Fifth Hokage, Gaara had always been a lot better at keeping up with his paperwork, staying up til all hours of the night to ensure they were completed in time for the next day's rush of forms. Even in the most dire moments of this war, he had managed perfectly fine, his insomnia working for his own benefit on the matter.
But for the past few weeks, it had all turned into this pile of disarray, almost doubling in a few days time. Something was seriously and most certainly off.
"Tenten?"
But what? "...By the end of the week at the latest if he doesn't change course or his pace."
A low hum came as his only response, and then he was back to busying himself with what was left of the growing pile, a few more forms sliding to the ground as another gust of wind flowed in from under the tent. Bending down, she shuffled around and began picking up the wayward scraps of parchment from the ground. A tinge and a pull just off center from her spine stilled her movements, and the young kunoichi reached to press at it with little thought.
"...How is your back?"
His voice was normally soft and wispy, like the shifting sands that he controlled. But it had sounded more so against the wind and flap of fabric stretched over their heads. And Tenten almost jumped at the sound of it. He had not really asked about her recovery after her surgery. In fact, the kunoichi could not recall seeing much of him while willing away her days in the hospital, not until the last week when her papers needed to be figured out and there came a question of her being fit to serve as Gaara's guard once more. So it felt a little strange that he would now after she was cleared for active duty.
"Almost good as new. Sakura knows her work."
But maybe that was the root of the problem. Because, indeed, she knew there was some sort of problem there. And that's when it hit.
Looking down at the sheets in her hands, Tenten furrowed her brows at the thought. And as her eyes looked past the paper and the walls and the ground, all she could see was a moonlit night and two figures in a dark room. The warmth of his body. The cloudy fog of her mind. And in the far reaches of her drug-induced memories, she saw it all. "...It wasn't a dream, was it? The kiss..."
"...No."
Her head snapped up at the answer, finding his voice closer than she remembered. Finding him only a mere few feet away from where she knelt on the ground. And with a deep breath., the kunoichi gave a nod at that. It took every ounce of pride and will in her to gather up the rest of the sheets with any semblance of calm, but she managed it. Because she had kissed him; really kissed him. And there had been no protest from him as far as Tenten could remember. But Gaara had said nothing of it; had practically been avoiding any unnecessary contact with her since.
"I apologize. I didn't..." She stood up with a sigh and quietly placed the stack of forms on the desk. "Forgive me, Lord Kazekage, I... I thought it was a dream."
"...I didn't mind."
"You..." Her eyes darted to him at that, the beat of her heart sounding off like the deep rhythm of jungle drums. Meeting with his gaze, the kunoichi seemed to lose her breath at the weight she felt as realization set in. And it was with that knowledge and a stuttered exhale that the young woman took a step or two back in retreat at the idea, until she felt the edge of the table bump against the back of her thighs. Until there was nowhere else to run. He didn't... mind...
"It was... nice." Here, he tilted his head almost curiously at the thought, and the kunoichi had to take another breath when he idly brushed a few fingers against his lips.
He didn't.
He wouldn't... would he?
It was a risk, she understood that. For all Tenten knew, she could be wrong about the assumption. It would not be the first time Gaara's thoughts and intentions were misinterpreted. And it would not be the first mistake she has made in his presence. The worse had been the one act that started this whole mess. And thrown their almost balanced system into disarray. But maybe, just maybe, this could fix it all. What was the worse that could happen? A face full of sand. Being trapped in a prison of it? It would be worth it, maybe. Could be if Tenten could just find the courage to do the one thing no one else (that she knew of) had.
So she steeled herself with a breath, inhaling deeply before reaching out to gently pull his hand away from his lips. And it's in that moment when his eyes turn their focus to her that Tenten finds her breath taken from her, and a thousand points of doubt crowding her vision - Is it right? Is it wrong? Should she? Shouldn't she? Do it. Don't - until it blended together, ringing out in a flurry of noise... and there was nothing left but him and his curious eyes looking at her. Mesmerized by them, she reached back to gently curl her fingers around the back of his neck and leaned in, lightly pressing her lips against his.
There was a tremor of excitement and a thrill of fear when she stepped in to lessen the space between them. But nothing was more terrifying that the knowledge and realization that he... was not returning it. He was not kissing back. She nipped at his lips to give him courage and one last chance, but to no avail. Finally, when her pride could take no more, she pulled away.
"I'm sorry, I - "
At the touch of his hand, she stilled, though. And the cast of his shadow pulled at a deeper fear and instinct that had long been etched in her mind. But in an instant, Tenten felt the warmth of his lips on her own. And she could do nothing else but melt into it, drawing her arm around his shoulder to kiss him back.
Type: Fanfic
Fandom: Naruto
Theme: 01. The stillness of now [ Wordcount: 1565 ]
Character(s): Tenten, Sabaku no Gaara; brief mentions of Team Gai, Deidara, Temari, Nara Shikamaru, Tsunade
Pairing(s): Hints of Gaara/Tenten
Warning(s): None.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: Random series of one-shots based on the themes borrowed from
20_aus Dedicated to:
indigodawn; with Love! ❤Useless fact: 'The red string of fate, also referred to as the red thread of destiny, red thread of fate, and other variants, is an East Asian belief originating from Chinese legend and is also used in Japanese legend. [...] The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of time, place or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break. This myth is similar to the Western concept of soulmates or a twin flame.'
In her experience, everything was built on stages. Every aspect of life had degrees of measurements. A person's level of anger could range from simmering to explosive. A warrior's pride could be stubborn or it could be closer to honorable. And while someone's weakness was just that, a weakness, there was a fine line between it becoming a crippling disadvantage or a source of strength. That last bit, Tenten understood all too well. Team Gai had been full of weaknesses back then. - A spirited hopeful who could not perform the most basic of required skills. A caged bird who wanted nothing more than to fly. A nameless shadow who dreamed of nothing more than to be recognized. - Indeed, there was a scale in which everything was judged. This time was no different.
In the beginning, when she was first assigned to be his guard for the duration of the war, the air between them was manageable, if not awkwardly so. And as time passed, they only grew more comfortable around each other as the familiarity only eased the tension of having to protect a man who... could level an entire city within minutes and possess an ultimate shield that protected him from all save but the fastest among them.
Now, though...
Glancing in his direction, she could see a furrow of skin between the sharp corners of his eyes. The movement of the bijuu were becoming erratic at best. But that did not change the fact that one seemed to be heading towards Suna with each passing day. Concern for the people was a top priority, of course. He had shown as much with his battle with Deidara. But even so, a jinchuuriki would know the powers and limitations of a tailed-beast. After all, Gaara had spent most of his life battling against the will of the Shukaku. This, however... This went beyond the well-being of his village. She had seen that sort of look on his face before when it became apparent that Temari's relationship with Shikamaru went beyond camaraderie. This was a different sort of concern.
"Gaara?" - Always Gaara, never Lord Kazekage or even Sir when there was no one around. He made and pressed upon that point several times already. - "Did you hear me?"
Pulling his arm back, he let the flap of the tent fall back into place and moved away from the opening, towards his makeshift study. "...How long before we intercept the Yonbi's path?"
Scrolls and sheets of papers littered the tabletop. A few fell to the ground when he swept by and Tenten could see a number of scrolls were rolled out across the span of the desk. And with the wind blowing and swirling as it was, there seemed to be pockets of sand every nook and cranny within sight. And probably some outside of it. Not that sand was an unfamiliar aspect around Gaara. But it was a scene she was more accustomed to seeing in Lady Tsunade's office, not his. As respected as the Sannin was and much as Tenten idolized the Fifth Hokage, Gaara had always been a lot better at keeping up with his paperwork, staying up til all hours of the night to ensure they were completed in time for the next day's rush of forms. Even in the most dire moments of this war, he had managed perfectly fine, his insomnia working for his own benefit on the matter.
But for the past few weeks, it had all turned into this pile of disarray, almost doubling in a few days time. Something was seriously and most certainly off.
"Tenten?"
But what? "...By the end of the week at the latest if he doesn't change course or his pace."
A low hum came as his only response, and then he was back to busying himself with what was left of the growing pile, a few more forms sliding to the ground as another gust of wind flowed in from under the tent. Bending down, she shuffled around and began picking up the wayward scraps of parchment from the ground. A tinge and a pull just off center from her spine stilled her movements, and the young kunoichi reached to press at it with little thought.
"...How is your back?"
His voice was normally soft and wispy, like the shifting sands that he controlled. But it had sounded more so against the wind and flap of fabric stretched over their heads. And Tenten almost jumped at the sound of it. He had not really asked about her recovery after her surgery. In fact, the kunoichi could not recall seeing much of him while willing away her days in the hospital, not until the last week when her papers needed to be figured out and there came a question of her being fit to serve as Gaara's guard once more. So it felt a little strange that he would now after she was cleared for active duty.
"Almost good as new. Sakura knows her work."
But maybe that was the root of the problem. Because, indeed, she knew there was some sort of problem there. And that's when it hit.
Looking down at the sheets in her hands, Tenten furrowed her brows at the thought. And as her eyes looked past the paper and the walls and the ground, all she could see was a moonlit night and two figures in a dark room. The warmth of his body. The cloudy fog of her mind. And in the far reaches of her drug-induced memories, she saw it all. "...It wasn't a dream, was it? The kiss..."
"...No."
Her head snapped up at the answer, finding his voice closer than she remembered. Finding him only a mere few feet away from where she knelt on the ground. And with a deep breath., the kunoichi gave a nod at that. It took every ounce of pride and will in her to gather up the rest of the sheets with any semblance of calm, but she managed it. Because she had kissed him; really kissed him. And there had been no protest from him as far as Tenten could remember. But Gaara had said nothing of it; had practically been avoiding any unnecessary contact with her since.
"I apologize. I didn't..." She stood up with a sigh and quietly placed the stack of forms on the desk. "Forgive me, Lord Kazekage, I... I thought it was a dream."
"...I didn't mind."
"You..." Her eyes darted to him at that, the beat of her heart sounding off like the deep rhythm of jungle drums. Meeting with his gaze, the kunoichi seemed to lose her breath at the weight she felt as realization set in. And it was with that knowledge and a stuttered exhale that the young woman took a step or two back in retreat at the idea, until she felt the edge of the table bump against the back of her thighs. Until there was nowhere else to run. He didn't... mind...
"It was... nice." Here, he tilted his head almost curiously at the thought, and the kunoichi had to take another breath when he idly brushed a few fingers against his lips.
He didn't.
He wouldn't... would he?
It was a risk, she understood that. For all Tenten knew, she could be wrong about the assumption. It would not be the first time Gaara's thoughts and intentions were misinterpreted. And it would not be the first mistake she has made in his presence. The worse had been the one act that started this whole mess. And thrown their almost balanced system into disarray. But maybe, just maybe, this could fix it all. What was the worse that could happen? A face full of sand. Being trapped in a prison of it? It would be worth it, maybe. Could be if Tenten could just find the courage to do the one thing no one else (that she knew of) had.
So she steeled herself with a breath, inhaling deeply before reaching out to gently pull his hand away from his lips. And it's in that moment when his eyes turn their focus to her that Tenten finds her breath taken from her, and a thousand points of doubt crowding her vision - Is it right? Is it wrong? Should she? Shouldn't she? Do it. Don't - until it blended together, ringing out in a flurry of noise... and there was nothing left but him and his curious eyes looking at her. Mesmerized by them, she reached back to gently curl her fingers around the back of his neck and leaned in, lightly pressing her lips against his.
There was a tremor of excitement and a thrill of fear when she stepped in to lessen the space between them. But nothing was more terrifying that the knowledge and realization that he... was not returning it. He was not kissing back. She nipped at his lips to give him courage and one last chance, but to no avail. Finally, when her pride could take no more, she pulled away.
"I'm sorry, I - "
At the touch of his hand, she stilled, though. And the cast of his shadow pulled at a deeper fear and instinct that had long been etched in her mind. But in an instant, Tenten felt the warmth of his lips on her own. And she could do nothing else but melt into it, drawing her arm around his shoulder to kiss him back.