endless_scrolls (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endless_scrolls) wrote2018-09-03 03:46 am
endless_scrolls) wrote2018-09-03 03:46 am
Once More into the Breach
Title: Once More into the Breach
Type: Fanfic
Fandom: Naruto
Theme: Slip of the Tongue [ Wordcount: 1225 ]
Character(s): Tenten, Uchiha Sasuke; brief mentions of Tsunade, Maito Gai, Uzumaki Naruto
Pairing(s): None.
Warning(s): None.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: A series of one-shots based on a plot idea originally made for the RP community ofcircleobetrayal that eventually inspired the fic 'Inheritance of Betrayal.' Theme borrowed from 30_tortures.
Dedicated to:its_game_time
Idle thoughts were slowly becoming the bane of her existence, particularly in recent weeks. War was a serious matter, and starting one held a lot of burdens in its own right. But whatever moral compromise or bargaining the kunoichi was forced to make, there was no denying how much of a help – how much of a relief – it was to fill her mind with senseless fodder. Because without it, she was likely to go mad from all the stress that came with starting the largest scale war the Shinobi Nations had ever seen. And when it came to compartmentalizing, Tenten held on to such distractions like a lifeline.
On the eve of their foray towards the battlefield, the former Leaf-nin needed to center herself more than ever.
That being said, the transition was seamless in the way her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to decide which was more rough: calloused fingers born from years of training and wear, or the crisp and untouched fabric of her Chuunin vest. Because even after all this time, it had remained tucked away in some forgotten corner of her closet and unused since Tenten's promotion. It stood as a mark of honor and pride to have it. And indeed, a lot of hard work had gone into achieving it. There were a lot of pieces that needed to be picked up and broken bones to be mended after the Invasion before another Exam could even be considered in their future. The aftermath had left everyone on shaky grounds.
She had felt redeemed and absolved of her past failures. Proud. Despite that, though, there had never been any reason good enough for her to wear it out into the field.
It was restricting. Bulky. And for her purposes, Tenten needed to be free-flowing; to be allowed to shift with every turn of the battle. That was who she was and who the kunoichi thought she would always be. But that had been a lifetime ago.
With the decision made to finally join the war, it was time to break in the flank jacket that the Hokage and the Konoha Council had awarded to her all those months ago. Now was time to show the world how worthy she was to wear it. She had been born into the world as a citizen of the Leaf Village. The least she could do was to die like one. That was the only way she could think to honor all of those who had helped her along the way, to get to this point.
At the nostalgia, a familiar pang of guilt and remorse clawed at her chest before she quickly squashed it down with a well-worn blanket of determination. Even now, everything she had learned from Maito Gai was with her, ingrained until it became second-nature.
“...I don't regret any of it.”
Crushing the stiff and starched material in her fingers, she quietly listened for the pause in his movements. Once a shadow that seemed to haunt her steps, the young Uchiha had grown to be a solid fixture in Tenten's life, his presence always a whisper on the wind at the edge of her consciousness. And even without looking, she could see the dart of his eyes; feel it at her back. The bright glow of the Sharingan was something the kunoichi had spent years seeing in both her deepest dreams and waking realities, though its shape had evolved countless times throughout their journey.
Straightening her back, she moved to clarify on her statement, responding to his silence without missing a beat. As she learned to do. “I just wanted to let you know. In case...”
Turning, Tenten met his eyes over the curve of her shoulder, letting the last words of her thoughts echo without a sound. Telling him what she needed to in the empty space between them. And it was with unwavering faith that the kunoichi trusted he would get the message unaltered. There was very few moments, she had learned, where the two could not read the unspoken sentiments. Hidden or otherwise.
His response came, in kind, and he was the first to break the lock of their gaze. Ridiculously proud and righteous to a fault, it was a rare thing to see, these days. After all, he was not the petulant boy he once was when the journey began. She was not the naïve girl who trusted without question (because the Gods above knew, she was still following him without voicing a single inquiry). And they were no longer children playing at war games.
Everything about this was real.
“...You can tell me about it, after all this is over.” It was said casually; conversational, in a tone that seemed flat and devoid of any real concern. But the weight of his stare made it perfectly clear.
He wasn't asking. He wasn't hoping.
He was giving an order. She was to survive until the end.
“Sasuke - ”
“ - Tenten.”
The knit of her brows deepened, the muscles coiling in preparation to retort against his command with every ounce of youthful stubbornness she possessed. But it was not a passing glance that greeted her, nor was it his usual sidelong glare that Tenten had expected. Instead, the full weight of his stare was unleashed upon her, mucking up the very air around them, spinning Sharingan and all. It was a break in the Uchiha's normally calculatingly controlled demeanour and had been enough to give the kunoichi pause.
“...Fine,” she conceded after a long stretch of silence, a wry sort of smile curving the corner of her lips. There was never any arguing with him. Shinobi, after all, were boorishly stubborn. And none were more painfully prideful than clan brats. “Marching orders received. Sir.”
Any anxiety or nervousness that she felt was swallowed and pushed aside in that moment, replaced with a narrowing focus that rivaled even Naruto's legendary bravado. Because as long as there was a purpose – as long as there was a target to zero in on – she could put all of her efforts towards that one goal. Nothing else. And Tenten prided herself on hitting the bull's eye at dead center each and every time she took aim.
“Don't mess up that pretty face of yours, Uchiha.” Smooth and effortless with a sharp snap of finality to set it in place, the kunoichi fitted herself with the long forgotten Chuunin vest. And prepared herself for war. “I expect to see it intact after all of this is over.”
The afterthought came without preamble, wrapped up in the pauses between each breath and resounded in the deepest places of their souls. And with it carried a weight that the young woman knew even he felt, for all the attempts to keep his lies and social ticks in check. Because it was a realization that Sasuke had made peace with the moment her role had been decided.
And in being given and holding that place for all these years, there was no doubt in Tenten's mind that the unspoken words had been heard, loud and clear: The expectation went both ways.
I won't be there to watch your back, this time. And that, perhaps, might make all the difference in the world.
Type: Fanfic
Fandom: Naruto
Theme: Slip of the Tongue [ Wordcount: 1225 ]
Character(s): Tenten, Uchiha Sasuke; brief mentions of Tsunade, Maito Gai, Uzumaki Naruto
Pairing(s): None.
Warning(s): None.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these words.
Note: A series of one-shots based on a plot idea originally made for the RP community of
circleobetrayal that eventually inspired the fic 'Inheritance of Betrayal.' Theme borrowed from 30_tortures.Dedicated to:
its_game_timeIdle thoughts were slowly becoming the bane of her existence, particularly in recent weeks. War was a serious matter, and starting one held a lot of burdens in its own right. But whatever moral compromise or bargaining the kunoichi was forced to make, there was no denying how much of a help – how much of a relief – it was to fill her mind with senseless fodder. Because without it, she was likely to go mad from all the stress that came with starting the largest scale war the Shinobi Nations had ever seen. And when it came to compartmentalizing, Tenten held on to such distractions like a lifeline.
On the eve of their foray towards the battlefield, the former Leaf-nin needed to center herself more than ever.
That being said, the transition was seamless in the way her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to decide which was more rough: calloused fingers born from years of training and wear, or the crisp and untouched fabric of her Chuunin vest. Because even after all this time, it had remained tucked away in some forgotten corner of her closet and unused since Tenten's promotion. It stood as a mark of honor and pride to have it. And indeed, a lot of hard work had gone into achieving it. There were a lot of pieces that needed to be picked up and broken bones to be mended after the Invasion before another Exam could even be considered in their future. The aftermath had left everyone on shaky grounds.
She had felt redeemed and absolved of her past failures. Proud. Despite that, though, there had never been any reason good enough for her to wear it out into the field.
It was restricting. Bulky. And for her purposes, Tenten needed to be free-flowing; to be allowed to shift with every turn of the battle. That was who she was and who the kunoichi thought she would always be. But that had been a lifetime ago.
With the decision made to finally join the war, it was time to break in the flank jacket that the Hokage and the Konoha Council had awarded to her all those months ago. Now was time to show the world how worthy she was to wear it. She had been born into the world as a citizen of the Leaf Village. The least she could do was to die like one. That was the only way she could think to honor all of those who had helped her along the way, to get to this point.
At the nostalgia, a familiar pang of guilt and remorse clawed at her chest before she quickly squashed it down with a well-worn blanket of determination. Even now, everything she had learned from Maito Gai was with her, ingrained until it became second-nature.
“...I don't regret any of it.”
Crushing the stiff and starched material in her fingers, she quietly listened for the pause in his movements. Once a shadow that seemed to haunt her steps, the young Uchiha had grown to be a solid fixture in Tenten's life, his presence always a whisper on the wind at the edge of her consciousness. And even without looking, she could see the dart of his eyes; feel it at her back. The bright glow of the Sharingan was something the kunoichi had spent years seeing in both her deepest dreams and waking realities, though its shape had evolved countless times throughout their journey.
Straightening her back, she moved to clarify on her statement, responding to his silence without missing a beat. As she learned to do. “I just wanted to let you know. In case...”
Turning, Tenten met his eyes over the curve of her shoulder, letting the last words of her thoughts echo without a sound. Telling him what she needed to in the empty space between them. And it was with unwavering faith that the kunoichi trusted he would get the message unaltered. There was very few moments, she had learned, where the two could not read the unspoken sentiments. Hidden or otherwise.
His response came, in kind, and he was the first to break the lock of their gaze. Ridiculously proud and righteous to a fault, it was a rare thing to see, these days. After all, he was not the petulant boy he once was when the journey began. She was not the naïve girl who trusted without question (because the Gods above knew, she was still following him without voicing a single inquiry). And they were no longer children playing at war games.
Everything about this was real.
“...You can tell me about it, after all this is over.” It was said casually; conversational, in a tone that seemed flat and devoid of any real concern. But the weight of his stare made it perfectly clear.
He wasn't asking. He wasn't hoping.
He was giving an order. She was to survive until the end.
“Sasuke - ”
“ - Tenten.”
The knit of her brows deepened, the muscles coiling in preparation to retort against his command with every ounce of youthful stubbornness she possessed. But it was not a passing glance that greeted her, nor was it his usual sidelong glare that Tenten had expected. Instead, the full weight of his stare was unleashed upon her, mucking up the very air around them, spinning Sharingan and all. It was a break in the Uchiha's normally calculatingly controlled demeanour and had been enough to give the kunoichi pause.
“...Fine,” she conceded after a long stretch of silence, a wry sort of smile curving the corner of her lips. There was never any arguing with him. Shinobi, after all, were boorishly stubborn. And none were more painfully prideful than clan brats. “Marching orders received. Sir.”
Any anxiety or nervousness that she felt was swallowed and pushed aside in that moment, replaced with a narrowing focus that rivaled even Naruto's legendary bravado. Because as long as there was a purpose – as long as there was a target to zero in on – she could put all of her efforts towards that one goal. Nothing else. And Tenten prided herself on hitting the bull's eye at dead center each and every time she took aim.
“Don't mess up that pretty face of yours, Uchiha.” Smooth and effortless with a sharp snap of finality to set it in place, the kunoichi fitted herself with the long forgotten Chuunin vest. And prepared herself for war. “I expect to see it intact after all of this is over.”
The afterthought came without preamble, wrapped up in the pauses between each breath and resounded in the deepest places of their souls. And with it carried a weight that the young woman knew even he felt, for all the attempts to keep his lies and social ticks in check. Because it was a realization that Sasuke had made peace with the moment her role had been decided.
And in being given and holding that place for all these years, there was no doubt in Tenten's mind that the unspoken words had been heard, loud and clear: The expectation went both ways.
I won't be there to watch your back, this time. And that, perhaps, might make all the difference in the world.