#nqj

[notquitejiraiya]

10 years.

Well, fuck me. That’s quite a long time, isn’t it?

On the 21st September 2015, having decided I was in too deep to keep watching from the sidelines, I created a blog to delve deeper into Naruto. A whopping 3 days later, I posted my first fic here, on tumblr, as notquitejiraiya. Not the first ever written, or the first ever posted, but the first for the fandom and the first of a string of them that would change my life forever.

You get a lot of that sentiment in these type of posts. You’ve got a lot of it from me before, at least — no doubt I’ll be a bit of a broken record here, scratched and jumping over the same old bits about fabulous friends and experiences. And maybe I ought to omit them for brevity. After all, this is my fourth(?) of these yearly recaps (I will link these later, given time, but I post so infrequently, they shouldn’t be hard to find). But given the outrageous routes my life has taken all because I made this blog on the 21st of September 2015, then pressed publish on a post the 24th soon after, I think it would be heinous to omit any of it completely.

But first, I think maybe I should start at the beginning. The real beginning. It’s not every day you reach double digits, after all.

The very first fic I posted here on Tumblr makes my toes curl to think about. I don’t often talk about it or reference it, but I reread it before writing this post just to review my old work, and really, given that I was 15, it’s not that bad. Make no mistake: it’s not good, and I genuinely hate it. But neither of those reasons speak to why I won’t ever be linking it here or even on the masterlist I wrote years ago.

More than anything, that fic is so very unlike me now that it near-on hurts to consider it as having come from me.

Even at the time, it wasn’t like me. It was for a ship I felt nothing for in a scenario I wasn’t particularly invested in. I only posted that ship first out of an obsessive need to order that series I hoped to write chronologically, and the ShikaTema one that soon followed was not quite so plastic but was still not what I really wanted. However, much to the chagrin of my current self, back then, I wanted nothing more than for other people to read my writing. I wanted strangers to tell me they had enjoyed themselves. I wanted to know I was doing something for someone. I enjoyed writing for writing’s sake — of course I did or else I’d never have done it! — but when I posted those first posts and people LIKED them?

Fuck me — I felt like I was flying!

I floated into a more authentic vein relatively quickly from there. There was ShikaTema galore on this page, as well as ships that I’ve since left behind but still have slight soft spots for, ships like LeeTen, MetaHima and MiraDai, who I’ve since come to like “rival” ships of quite significantly more. I even hosted a LeeTen week at one point. Madness, come to think of it. But excellent fun, still!

Another stark change to now is that back then, I wrote mostly canonverse type stuff. You’d still be pushed to find me writing true canonverse. There was rarely physical fighting or anything remotely ninja-related. There was divergence or some crude replication of our world shoved in with all the grace of the uncoordinated teenager I was. I had thoughts of writing more thorough and deliberate AUs without knowing how to label them yet, but not knowing if anyone would want read them, I never let them take shape, and eventually (along with those ideas) faded out for a little while and finished school.

I returned to fic writing proper with CHESS in 2018, and from there I think we mostly know the story, right?

I made a bunch of Tumblr posts, then transitioned to ao3. Joined discord servers — one then two then three — that let me look in on different people and culture so uniquely, and even created one of our own with some incredible women in @unioncolours and @thespookymoth. I wrote and beta read for zines, again with my friends (cheers to you always @loknnica !!!) , hosted an event or two, and helped with others, all of it with highs and lows. I moved cities and then moved country (more on that later), where I got to spend so much of my time and real life with the glorious Bex, and expanded my world view so far outside what I ever expected. And all because on 24th September 2015, little teenage Becks was brave enough to press publish on a fic she wasn’t sure of.

Talk about the butterfly effect, eh?

From a writing perspective, though, I only grew out of focusing what other people want to read to only writing what I want to write semi-recently, or so it feels. I’ve gone on about that far enough in the past, so I won’t waffle now, but it’s not lost on me that since that realisation, I’ve also barely posted. I’m more aware of that than anyone, and though all you lovely people say it’s alright and to take my time, I’m aware.

I had even hoped that I might’ve got a GM update for you all today, but that didn’t happen — I’m sorry. Work-life balance is hard at the moment, but I’m chipping away and I hope it won’t take too much longer. Rest assured that it is certainly not because I don’t want to write. I even wish this reflection could’ve been granted more time, but sadly life hasn’t been kind enough to grant it recently.

I will admit here though that the idea of finishing Grandmaster is terrifying. Be it conceptually or actually live on ao3, my darling GM has been a constant for over a third of the 10 years I’ve written for this fandom, and the sort of constant one gets far too comfortable. But, more than that, the GMverse has become a home away from home from me. I can slip into it, at any point in the timeline, no matter where I am physically or mentally, and find myself a tad more steady and at peace, which has been very welcome these past few years.

It must be said with this fact, too, that many people have made GM what it is. While I don’t write for others anymore, it does still light me up to see others enjoying my work and to know it makes people happy or inspired is an honour I can’t describe. To think that the wonderful @twnj has drawn as much for it as she has, that people have read in tandem (love you, book club — thank you again for your patience), that @clumsydragon28 has left more comment parts per chapter than I have in total this past year, and that people have read whole other books and listened to new music all because of something I dreamed up in my old box room in Oxford almost 4 years ago… I can’t fathom it, really. I can’t. I can’t be anything but grateful and honoured for the people who’ve made GM and its associates what it is.

Some of you, I’ve been meaning to message forever to thank you and have chickened out every time. @hoshirosethorncosplay, for example: you have been such a constant in the comments since the start, and seeing your name on my dash or in my emails never fails to make me grin stupidly. Thank you. @bostoncalled — I’ve been working up the courage to thank you for your outrageously kind words for the longest time and failed, so expect me in your DMs soon enough, too. And so many more whose names I don’t know that I know on here. If you see this, know this:

You lovely people are the heart of GM. Wherever you are, whether you comment or not, I’m so grateful for you.

I thought at times, even without it having finished it, about whether I could ever look back on GM with the same sneer as I do my very first fic here on Tumblr. It seems possible that I could, someday, because even CHESS wasn’t safe from that feeling, but that was through the years of ship wars and whatever strange person decided to hate Ino so violently that CHESS became their target.

But anyway I sense that GM won’t suffer that fate. Too much of it is too close to my heart. Like I say, it and its universe is a home.

In particular, GM Shikamaru, will forever remind me of the best decision I ever made. Spending two years with my dearest darling Bex on my doorstep in Finland and getting to invade her world and learn her language, exploring and laughing and nattering into the night together just because we could was magical, and that coming to a close has been difficult. It still is, but when I look at GM — at the welcoming arms of its Finn — I think of my most favourite Finn and I’m flooded with gratitude beyond what I can express.

The last ten years have shown me many good times, but you, Bex, my friend, are at the heart of all of them. Kiitos paljon kaikesta. Sä oot kultainen. I absolutely fucking adore you ♥️

Now, I hoped in my last reflection that I’d be reflecting on finishing GM in this one, and that I’d be beyond just mentioning you to what will come after. Well, oops. Hey ho. But even so, I think that’s enough reflection for now. GM will get its own essay when the time comes.

Ahead is where we ought to look, now, really…

Shock horror: I’m not done with this universe. You might’ve seen something floating around, here or on the blog of the oh so mighty and oh so outrageously talented @twnj (who deserves an entire speech dedicated to the incredible spark she has brought to my life and to our fandom as a whole — you, my friend, are a dream. thank you for being you). Just the other day actually, she posted a dreamy related drawing for Shikadai’s birthday.

That ‘something’ I allude to is what I’ve maybe written the most of since my last reflection, actually. As far as I know, there is around 70k of GMJ (more formally known as Piano Man) tucked away in GoogleDocs, waiting for its moment. It’s been a joy to write, and is very soul soothing, not only for being in GMverse, still.

I’ll say now that I’m sure many of my readers are here for the ShikaTema, and I don’t blame you — I always have been, too — but if you enjoy any of the aspects of GM outside the romance (family, identity, etc.), or just want to continue the post-Strangers ride, I think you’ll enjoy.

Besides, ShikaTema make themselves known in GMJ, too. Make no mistake there.

Many things have inspired me when I work in GMJ — books, movies, and music, of course — but there has been a point of inspiration for that fic that cannot go unmentioned. One thing I’ve failed to capture in this reflection is the sheer amount of fics that have inspired me over the years. For now, though, I’ll mention one that his inspired GMJ particularly, and I don’t think I’ve adequately thanked her for, even now.

@clumsydragon28 wrote a story a few years ago that changed my life and approach to storytelling upon reading it. In the stunning stunning fic that is Plié, she so beautifully captured her love of so many things: of her city, of her love of dance, the love in the power of just listening, and of the love and kindness she has always there for those around her. Perhaps that last one was not intended, but such is the nature of our darling Barb. She really is that excellent even without trying.

Every time I write GMJ Inojin chattering himself stupid, or GMJ Shikadai losing himself in his art, and even in the midst of the chess game scenes of GM before it, I think of our dear Barb, her crafts, and her total devotion to them. To feel someone’s love shine through their words so honestly is to feel them close by, and though I have not (yet!) been granted the pleasure of invading her doorstep in person as I have Bex’s, her work still places me there, heart open.

Thank you, Barb, for being not just my no1 Billy Joel and Sai consultant, but a calibre of person and friend that most people can only dream of meeting in their lives. I’m so very lucky and so very grateful. Love you, mate ♥️

Anyway, to my ShikaTema-focused readers: as someone slowly drawn further and further into the ShikaJin fold over the years by one person or another (you know who you are), I must say it’s a good flavour, and one that I recommend.

Oh, and a note specifically to @servenna — 1) you are a wonderful human being and I’m so grateful for you, and 2) quite some time ago, I mentioned to you having written some GMverse ShikaYoshi. Expect that in the not too distant future — you’ve more than earned it given your patience with GMs “posting schedule”, as have you all. I post here to hold myself accountable, but make no mistake, I’m incredibly excited to share it and all the excess lore.

I fear I’ve nattered on far longer than I hoped to, and probably failed to cover the events of just this year, let alone the 10 I’ve managed here. Clearly, I’m yet to learn the skill of conciseness I set out to achieve years ago, and having chewed your ears off too long already, I will say nothing more than this:

Pressing post on that tumblr post ten years ago was the best decision I ever made. The life I lead now would not exist had I not done it. The person I am would be so much shallower and unfulfilled, simply for the lovely people I’ve come to know from being in this fandom.

Christ, my tumblr can almost go to primary school. How mad is that?!

Thank you all for being around, whether you’ve spoken to me, read me, or just seen me in passing. It’s been a pleasure, and it will continue to be. For 10 more years? Maybe, or maybe not. But I’ll make a dent in that, I’m sure.

Let’s at least get my tumblr to legal drinking age, eh? Then it can finally read the contents of my ao3 without restriction.

Cheers,

Becks ♥️

[notquitejiraiya]

letters to neji [#14] - LeeTen

2 in 1 day - damn this is rare.

So, in this chapter I kind of use my own sad sad headcanon that Lee is an orphan, and that’s why his family was never explored within the manga or the anime. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this and the beginning of Lee’s connection to the letters :)

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Dear Neji,

So this morning when I woke up, Lee was already gone. 

Last night was okay - he slept on the sofa and he cooked me curry, like I thought he would. He tried to tell me why he came but he was vague as anything. All he managed to get out was that he came to tell me that he was grateful and that I mattered, which was sweet, and I thanked him. We played cards again and he fell asleep in my lap again so I had to pry myself out of that, but I left him a note. It said:

‘Thank you for coming (and for dinner). I know there’s something bothering you, and I’m sorry I can’t seem to help. But I’m always here for you. Sleep well.’

 When I came to see him after I got up, I noticed he’d also written on it, simply saying:

‘Thanks Tenten, but I am fine. Please come to our usual training spot this evening, I would like to see you. Lee’

It was weird to me, because I thought that we were coming to see you today, but obviously I couldn’t question him, so I let it slide. I strode to the flower shop, grabbed you some sunflowers and made my way to you. Secretly, I think I was hoping I’d see Lee there; that he’d be stood with you or something, but I found nothing.

Shikamaru was visiting his father with Temari, that blonde girl from the sand - I’m sure you remember who she is, why did I write that? Anyway, she’s here on business a lot recently, but I saw her hand brushing his while he stood looking down and I thought I saw him brush back. I’m not nosey, at least I usually don’t like to be, but it was nice. Whether that is something more, or just a kind soul helping a hurt one, it was wonderful.

Mostly it made me think of Lee again, and how we do that for one another. I still don’t know what happened to Lee’s family. All is know is that he’s alone and has been since I’ve known him. I know he’s always lived alone, and so I assume his mother and father passed on, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen him go to their graves before. Still, it makes me wish I knew. If my parents left this world, Lee would comfort me. Even if they’ve been gone from the beginning, he deserves the same you know, Neji?

As I walked toward you, I greeted Shikamaru and Temari. He lit a cigarette and accidentally blew the smoke in my face. I coughed, and Temari smacked his arm lightly, and he apologised, rubbing his eyes. They were red. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Shikamaru cry, and though I know he has many times, it touched me. I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t need to; he was done, and he was okay. For whatever reason he had Temari by his side, and he was able to smile at me.

As they walked away, I looked over to you, and smiled when I saw that there were flowers already on your resting place; daffodils. Lee had been. Still, I placed the sunflowers at my feet, because it will make Hinata happy. Though it made my heart flutter to see Lee’s favourite flowers, now my favourite’s, too, down there, I felt a stinging jealously that they weren’t in my hands for once, ready to put in a vase when I got home. I’m sorry, Neji, they are yours after all. They were always meant to be.

Just as I was about to leave I noticed that, beneath the daffodils, a piece of paper was wriggling to be free in the wind. It was folded up and, assuming it was for you, I merely wanted to unfold it and place it back down the way it was intended: for you to read.

But I didn’t, and I’m sorry. I, dreadfully, let my curiosity get the better of me and I scanned over it, and when I saw who’d signed their name I read it over and over again.

I don’t know if you did get to read it, but it started to rain when I placed it back down, tucked daintily between the two bouquets, and the ink began to run. But if you did, Neji, I don’t know what to do. How am I supposed to meet him tonight? What am I supposed to say?

Oh, heck, I wish you could answer me, Neji.

I will go later, of course I will. Just please, from where you are, please wish me luck.

Thank you,

Tenten

Dear Neji,

I write having full understanding that you will not read it. I write knowing that I wrote to you before and nothing came of it. It is not your fault; if you could then you would, but you cannot and that is just how it must be.

But, Neji, I love her, and I am unsure what I am to do. She cannot feel the same - I know too well that she loves you. It hurts me that I know how much she’s always loved you.

I have asked to meet her tonight.

I have asked that she meet me where we train.

I hope it will be normal enough. I pray that it will be normal. 

Do you think it will? I hope it will, Neji. I ever so hope it will.

God, I know I am not inept but it times like this that I feel it. While I may have grown up, while I am not so intense day-to-day, I cannot figure it out one bit. I see love all around. I know it, I feel it. But I have not got my father to help. I cannot go to Naruto or to even Gai sensei. They cannot help me.

I need someone to help me.

It is tearing me up inside. I went to her door last night, a ragged mess after I tried to ask Gai sensei what to do. He told me not to tell her I asked him, just to show up and ask her to dinner. But that is weird, is it not? She was finally at home, finally settled. After all she had done taking care of me, to drag her from that was not right. I missed her, so I went all the same, a mess of excitement and misplaced hair and I tried to smile when she spoke to me, but I could not make it come out right.

So much so that she did not understand. She spoke in past tense of our time, of her care, and while she corrected herself, I knew it could not be natural.

How do I get past this, Neji? While I love her, I know it cannot be, not while she still cares for you so. That last man she dated lasted a mere few days - she was not ready. What is the difference between me and that handsome man she saw back then?

I am not handsome, I am not smart, and I am not stylish. I have always tried hard, always trained, but never have I been prepared for this. I was a kid when I loved Sakura, ambitious and fearless. Then, it did not matter. Deep down I always knew that path would be a failure, but this one...I do not know if I could take it.

Still, I will see her tonight, I hope, and I will try my best to tell her.

If, by some miracle you read these words, think of me, and think of her; think of us, as us.

I miss you, my best friend, more than words can say.

Lee.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to the few people who still read this series and give me feedback - I appreciate it so greatly. Please let me know other things you’d like me to write, and I will try my best.

have a wonderful rest of your day

[notquitejiraiya]

letters to neji [#15] - LeeTen

Here we are, back again for yet another chapter. I’m kind of on a roll with these, so I hope you’re still enjoying them. Thank you to those of you who know who you are for the absolutely lovely feedback you’ve given me on this story. I’m so glad you’re enjoying it as much I enjoy writing it.

This site needs more LeeTen fan fiction. Anyway, enjoy! :) 

As someone requested I put all previous parts in the description, here they are, in order:

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] 

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Neji,

I write this letter from the comfort of my bed in the middle of the day, wallowing in self pity and depreciation, because what the hell have I done?

I went; I did it. Last night I mustered up the courage and I went, unlike I expected. And, of course, Lee was there, perched on a rock and obediently waiting for me. He was fiddling with the edges of his bandages, fraying them slightly, seemingly unaffected by the rain that battered down upon his shoulders. I could instantly tell he was nervous, before he even locked eyes on me, and my stomach dropped.

There was no doubt in my mind that I cared for Lee - there wasn’t even any doubt that I cared for him in the same why he did me - but how was I to voice that? And how was I to face him given that I knew all of his thoughts; thoughts that he had no idea that I was aware of.

He still hadn’t turned around, even when my toe kicked aside a stone into a puddle and a gentle splash echoed throughout the clearing. The rain pattering down sent a shiver through my body, and instantly I regretted my presence. I was unprepared and terrified, but I didn’t have the heart to let him sit here hoping and never show.

I do love him after all.

So I stepped closer, praying he would turn around so I didn’t have to speak first; praying that he’d start this conversation that divinities had already written to be awkward. But my prayers weren’t answered.

I stood beside the rock, biting hard on my lip to keep myself from bawling my eyes out, and uttered the only thing I could think to say, “I saw you left flowers for Neji.”

Immediately the fingers that fiddled mindlessly with his bandages came to a halt, and his head turned slightly. Big, dark eyes looked at me like a deer in headlights, totally surprised and unsure how to proceed. I knew something else then, too:

He hadn’t been expecting me to come.

“They’re beautiful,” I added with a gulp. “I hope you don’t mind but I took some sunflowers, too. You know, since-”

“Since Hinata is not in the village, yes.” Lee nodded, getting to his feet slowly. “She will like that.”

I reciprocated the movement, ending with my eyes staring down.

Never in my life had I felt like this. Neither had he by the look in his eyes when I looked up.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said softly, biting down on his lip. “However, I do not know how to begin. It is long and it is hard to say, and no matter how hard I try I do not seem able to perfect it, Tenten.”

All I could think was: Oh, he thinks I don’t know what’s coming...

Am I evil? Should I have just told him that I knew right there and then, and put the poor man out of his misery? Because I didn’t! Instead, I watch him fumble and fail with his words, chewing on his lip as raindrops stuck his bangs to his face like superglue. And the whole time all I could do was nod and stay silent, hoping that he’d finally string a sentence together longer than, “Um, I, er...I just wanted to tell you...um, I...”

Until finally he fell back down onto the rock, rubbing his face with his hands like he was trying to remove every feature, and shaking his head as he went. “No, no, no, I cannot do it. I am sorry, Tenten, I made you come out here in the rain. I made you get cold just for this. I wasted your time. I am so sorry.”

“No, no, no!” I insisted, crouching down before him and placing my hand on his knee. “It’s okay, Lee, really. You haven’t wasted my time at all.”

He silenced himself, wiping the water from his eyes. My heart grew faster as I wondered if what he was wiping wasn’t rainwater. With each shiver he gave, I felt a little more awful - a little less human and a little more animal, more primitive.

“We need to get inside,” I firmly told him. “It’s freezing out here.”

“No!” His voice was sharp and sudden. “I wanted to talk to you here; where it’s our place.”

Something inside my stomach fluttered. “O-Our place?”

“Yes,” he added, gulping.

He looked down at me, lost and afraid, like a little boy who had nobody to hold him. Neji, how I wanted to hold him so close and tell him it was all okay. But I didn’t; merely looked at him pathetically and felt a single tear run down my own cheek. I knew what he was about to say, after all.

“You know the building Gai-Sensei first took us to? I consider that mine and Neji’s place, though I know that means next to nothing anymore.”

“Oh, Lee, don’t say that-”

“But this? This is our place Tenten. You and me...” His voiced trailed off and I grabbed his hand. Once again his eyes shot up. “And him. Always him.”

“But?”

“But nothing, Tenten. This place is where I feel at home - not some cold and empty apartment, that is not my home. I have learned much from our comrades, from our friends, but the thing I have come to learn from Neji - from our Neji and his passing - is the feeling of home.” He smiled softly at me. The rain grew harder. “When he left us I felt like home was gone. Like the life I had created for myself had fallen to pieces, ripped to shreds by the horrible man who orchestrated it all.”

(These big words from Lee surprised me too, I know. But trust me, it’s ingrained in my head now!)

“But remember when you came to me, crying and so full of pain and I told you to write a letter to him? That it would ease the pain?”

I gulped as I nodded. Of course I know.

“Well I did it, as well,” he added. “I wrote one before I told you to, and it made me feel at peace a little more - that is why I told you to do it, too. But I also wrote one today.” His eyes drifted to our hands, tangled in his lap. “And this time...this time I wrote about you, Tenten.”

No words came from my mouth as I tried to speak, merely a feeble sound that might’ve been mistaken from surprise. But what irony that was, and I was afraid my expression wouldn’t hide it much longer.

“I did see a letter when I went to take the flowers to him,” I replied, truthfully.

“Yes. I know he cannot read it and that he will not reply to me, but I wanted to let him know; I wanted to talk to my best friend again. This is the sort of thing best friends talk about, after all.” He bit down on his lip and looked me dead in the eye. I could feel myself shaking as he asked, “Who is your best friend, Tenten? Is it Sakura?”

Sighing I looked away, unsure how to formulate a sentence. “When it comes to girls, I suppose she is, yeah.”

“But not girls? It is Neji, right?”

“No,” I answered, finally with some power to my tone. “Actually, Lee, I’d reckon it’s you.”

A blush flew across his cheeks, accentuated by the stinging cold that brightened the tip of his nose. For a moment I forgot what he was going to say to me in mere moments, and just held on to that precious moment: one where he looked happy, where he looked fulfilled and proud. I didn't want it to end.

But, as you know better than either of us, all things seem to eventually.

“But you love him though, don’t you? Not me.”

And with it, I froze. Although I’d been expecting it from the moment I stepped out of my door, I couldn’t move my limbs or my mouth at all. My chest caved, deep and enclosed, suffocating me within myself. God, it didn’t make sense. All I needed to say was no, because that was the truth. Yes, I adore you, Neji, as you know, but Lee means the world to me now. I should have just said no; it should have been so easy just to smile and shake my head.

But I didn’t.

What I did was stand up, shake my head desperately hoping he’d understand me and fled. I ran so fast home, knowing full well he couldn’t keep up with me given his injuries, but wishing I’d turn around and see him stood there waiting. I have no right to wish that though; had I not wimped out, it would all be fine. I would be content and Lee...Lee would be happy, compared to whatever mess I have left him in now.

And so I’ve gone and fucked it up again, Neji, just as Gai-Sensei begged me not to. He told me to be more careful of Lee’s feelings, and what did I do? I didn’t even throw them back in his face, did I? I just let them fall in the gap between us, and now nothing is solved, merely muddled.

Oh, shit, what happens in a week or so when he’d deemed healthy enough to go on missions. I can’t keep turning down missions with him - I work best with him, and him we with me. Kakashi knows that we are a team in our own league - oh shit, what have I done Neji?

Ice cream between two chunks of biscuit is good by the way. I know why Sakura used to get through so much whenever Sasuke used to mess around with her.

Then again, when I put it like that, it ought to be Lee eating ice cream sandwiched between cookies, not me. What right do I have?

I’ll let the day pass and pray that if I call him tomorrow he answers me. But I certainly won’t get my hopes up. I fucked up, Neji, and no amount of writing to ghosts and ice cream will help that.

I’m sorry if that last bit was insensitive, I truly am.

Please watch over him and make sure he’s okay. He needs his best friend right now.

From,

Tenten.

[notquitejiraiya]

Chess [8] - {ShikaTema AU}

Welcome back to the angsty thing called Chess when only like half the time is anyone actually playing Chess.

A couple of people told me that they don’t like it, but so many more have drowned out their nastiness, so I’m going to quickly jump in and say thank you, guys.

I know the last chapter was a bit heavy, but this one isn’t in that vein, don’t worry.

Much love, and I hope you enjoy!

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Why would anybody need seven, so bloody specific, bunches of flowers?” Shikamaru groaned. With his body weight hard against a pillar, he gazed down at the written note in his hands. “‘Four white roses, four purple chrysanthemums, two irises and two sprigs of’…” He snorted. “Two sprigs of ‘the little tiny white ones that you always put in, please’. Why?”

Ino Yamanaka shook her head, smiling as she tied a ribbon around the stems of yet another bouquet. “Shikamaru, it’s a wedding order. You seriously don’t understand, do you?”

He shook his head. “Obviously not.”

“Just hold this.”

She thrust her newly finished bunch of flowers into his arms and he sighed, his eyes following her as she strode across the room. “You’re going to make them. I’m not doing it.”

“Christ, for someone who works in a florist, you don’t have much enthusiasm for flowers, do you?”

The young man let out a huge sigh and threw his head back. “And you definitely work here because of your adoration for floral arrangements, yeah?”

Her head turned quickly, and her long ponytail whipped round. “Shut up. There’s nobody on the shop floor. Go downstairs.”

“Fine.” He went to put down the flowers in his hand, when he caught the frustrated glare she shot his way. “Now what, Ino?”

“I told you to hold them because I want you to take them downstairs!”

Shikamaru felt his shoulders tighten as his eyes fell shut. “Then just give that instruction…man, you’re such a pain.”

“Oh, yeah,” she snapped back. “Such a pain. I’m a total ‘drag’, right? You’re the one who was late this morning, Shikamaru.”

“I was late because I had an appointment.”

“You had an appointment yesterday, don’t lie to me.”

He started to shuffle towards the stairs that lead down to the shop floor, weaving through boxes of weird porous foam he didn’t care for and decorative ribbon. “Okay, Ino,” he replied, careless and tired as his feet touched the first step. “I’m going down. Shout me if you need me.”

“I won’t!” she called back. “Oh, and Shikamaru?”

He didn’t answer, just kept walking. It doesn’t matter, he thought, she’ll keep talking anyway.

Of course he was right. “My dad will be here in like half an hour, and by then the bakery will be shut and—”

“And you forgot to get him his lemon tart again…”

Every Tuesday, Inoichi Yamanaka would pry himself away from work early to come and see Ino at the flower shop, and wait to give her a lift home. It was the only day he’d ever done it, but it had been the case as long as Shikamaru could remember. When Ino was little, he’d pick her up from school and they’d go wait until her mother closed up the shop, and she was always leave a little bag behind the counter from the bakery up the road. Inside it would always be a lemon tart.

Shikamaru had heard the story enough times that it was cemented somewhere in his mind that the most important part of a Tuesday afternoon shift was to run to The Bluebird Bakery if Ino hadn’t already. He knew how much it meant to her, as much of a pain as it was. So before she even shouted back a plea, he found himself habitually grabbing his hoodie and throwing it over his shoulders.

“See you in a bit.”

As he flung open the door, the cold air hit him like a six-foot fan had thrust air into his face, and he felt every hair on his head fly from their place in his ponytail. Eager to keep it in place, he threw his hood up and his hands in his pockets, slowly jogging a few shops down toward the bakery. He barged into the door with his shoulder and pushed his way in. This time of day they were getting ready to close, and the room was bare except for one young man, leaning on the counter by the till; one Shikamaru recognised.

It was him, Temari’s brother.

“Come on, Suki,” the man chuckled, smiling at the young woman across the counter. “They’d love to meet you. Besides, they won’t even be in long, and my brother doesn’t get home until late tonight.”

“But your sister does!” The girl blushed. “Kankuro, I don’t know. We’ve barely been seeing each other a month.”

Shikamaru gulped and leant against the wall.

“She’s far too into her work at the moment to care if there’s one more body in the house.” He stood up straight and ran a hand through his hair. “But if you don’t want to I get—”

“No, I do want to!” She reached out and grabbed his hands. “Once we’ve closed up I’ll come to the shop. Wait for me, okay? Just as long as you promise she won’t care.”

Kankuro shook his head, grinning. “Trust me, she’s got more important things on her…”

Shikamaru didn’t notice the young man trail off, nor did he notice his head turn to look at him. All that was on the younger man’s mind was whether the one remaining lemon tart behind the counter could magically appear in the flower shop without him having to interrupt their conversation.

“Hey.”

A jolt went through Shikamaru’s shoulders, and his head slowly turned to see both the man and woman staring at him.

“Hey you’re him, aren’t you? The guy from the pub.” Kankuro shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re my sister’s new obsession.”

“I don’t know, man,” wheezed Shikamaru, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“You know each other?” the lady, Suki, piped up chirpily before turning her attention—and massive smile—toward Shikamaru. “Small world. You want a lemon tart again, Shikamaru?”

He nodded, smiling back slightly. “Please.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a tart, kind of guy,” Kankuro chuckled.

“Well, it isn’t actually for—”

“Sorry, but what’s the protocol here, man?”

Shikamaru faltered and shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie once again, only just realising the highly feminine pattern of his uniform was probably contributing to the grin on this intimidating guy’s face. He fumbled for his keys, just to nervously fiddle with something; he could feel the tingling on the back of his scalp set in as his anxiousness slowly creeped up on him.

“I, uh,” he muttered, trying—and failing—to laugh. “I don’t know if there is one.”

“Man, look. I know you’ve been through this tonnes of times. All I wanna know is this: am I allowed to be talking to you?”

Lifelessly, and desperate to retain the small level of cool he had, Shikamaru shrugged. “Ask Temari. I don’t know. I assume not.”

A smile grew, mischievous and eager, across Kankuro’s face. “I’m going to assume I am.”

“I’m sorry, guys; one second,” Suki interrupted, softly and almost afraid. “That’ll be one-twenty, Shikamaru, please.”

He didn’t waste any time pacing over, grabbing the little paper bag and throwing coins down on the counter. With a smile he thanked her and quickly scurried back toward the door. “Well, uh…nice to meet you, man.”

“Yeah,” replied the other man, his voice low and careless. “I’ll tell Tem you said hi, yeah?”

Shikamaru turned slightly, nodding, and raised his hand. “See you around.”

Kankuro didn’t reply, but Shikamaru could feel the resentment radiating from him. Or at least he thought, for a second, that he could. Frankly, this wasn’t his strong suit—the whole two minute long affair had made his stomach churn, and the walk back to the shop couldn’t be over fast enough. He didn’t care about the wind in his hair this time round, he just wanted his feet to carry him away from that place.

Before this moment, he’d never understood what Choji would say when he complained about girlfriend’s siblings, and how he felt like they could snap him in half. He’d always laughed and thought it sounded cliché or like an overreaction, but now he got it. One look from Temari’s brother made his heart race—and he wasn’t even anything like with her. But he couldn’t deny that his mind had been shouting constant gibberish, with only one objective: not to embarrass himself, to make him respect him.

Every day Shikamaru would greet and talk to dozens upon dozens of people, and he didn’t care if the smile he served them with looked false or whether he looked like an impossibly happy, fantasyland man. There were very few people he wanted to respect him besides his parents—even less he wanted to impress—so why, when he met his therapist’s brother, a stranger he’d seen and heard speak many times before, did he feel that wash over him. Why did he feel his emotions bubbling in the same way they did when Mrs Yamanaka gave him that pitiful look for having to work shifts around his appointments? Why did he care what a stranger, who he never should have met, thought of him?

He didn’t know, and as he flung open the door to the florists, he accepted that he wouldn’t. All he knew was that he needed a smoke, and he needed one badly.

“Tart’s down here, Ino!” he shouted up. “I’m going out for a cigarette!”

There was violent shuffling from up above. “Wait, what?”

“I’ll come back in if we get a customer!”

“No, wait! What happened?”

“Nothing happened!” He sighed. “I just need a smoke, okay?”

The silence that followed, at least for the second long duration he waited for an answer, was all he needed to hear to go ahead and step outside.

It didn’t matter to him that the cold was numbing his fingers; what mattered was the wind halting his lighting of his cigarette. He shrouded it, desperate to set it alight, and leant against the window of the shop as he took his first drag, and felt the warmth sear through his body. Nothing felt like this—like the first cigarette in hours on a freezing cold day. Nothing warmed him up, from the inside out, and made him feel whole again, like the smell of the smoke cloud that lightly blanketed him. Obviously, in this precise moment, the smell blew away in seconds, but when he closed his eyes, he could almost forget the air pummelling his face, and the cold numbing his senses. For one moment, he could relax—just him and the elements, desperately trying to get his attention and failing miserably.

All he did was stand there, slowly edging his way down to the end of the cigarette. If only the week would go as fast as one of these does, he thought.

Another week before his shoulders lightened, just that little bit more in her company, was too long for him. It almost pissed him off to admit it, but he was beginning to crave her company in almost equal measure to those little sticks of tobacco, and seeing her brother certainly hadn’t helped that feeling.

~~~

She heard the door slam shut followed by some faint giggling, and immediately what was happening. But, instead of her usual teasing shout, Temari held her tongue, and took a sip of her tea as she kept reading the sheet of paper in front of her. Only when she could hear footsteps a few metres behind her did she finally tear her eyes away.

“Hi,” she mumbled, turning to face the young man as he threw his shoes off into the corner. “Who’s downstairs then?”

Kankuro smirked and hung up his jacket on the back of a chair. “Suki.”

“Ew, stop smirking!” gagged Temari, immediately turning around and grabbing her tea. “Look, I don’t care what you do just don’t make me hear about it, yeah?”

“Why do you always assume I’ve brought girls back to shag them?”

“Because of the amount of times I’ve walked in on a Friday night and you’ve been on the sofa, half-naked on top of one of them!”

“It’s Tuesday.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Mixing it up. Exciting.”

“Don’t make me sound like some kind of dick.”

“I’m not,” she laughed. “You just aren’t very good at…privacy.” She shook her head, taking a sip of her tea. “Sorry. I can leave if she doesn’t want to meet me. I’ve got a load of stuff to get on with, anyway.”

He nodded profusely. “If you wouldn’t mind, Tem, that’d be ace.”

She downed the last of her drink and gathered up the pages she’d taken from the file that was strewn across the kitchen table. “I’ve got a week to try and suss out exactly how to precede with this one guy…”

“Oh,” Kankuro chuckled. “I saw him today by the way.”

Temari’s head shot up. “Who?”

“You know who—him. Shika-whatever.”

“Maru—Shikamaru,” she corrected, absentmindedly. “What the heck do you mean you saw him today?”

His arms flailed cartoonish way as he shrugged. “I mean, I saw him.”

“Okay, now you’re being a dick. What do you—”

“Tem, chill out. He came into the bakery while I was in there with Suki.” He stepped towards the door and put a thumbs up, seemingly so the girl knew it was okay to come up. “It’s fine—barely spoke to him.”

“You didn’t tell him who you were, did you?”

“Didn’t need to. He’s a wimp though, Tem. Proper wuss, isn’t he?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Kankuro…”

“Seriously, though: he’s a mumbler, and he got a lemon tart.”

“Oh yes.” Temari gave an infamous eye roll. “Because that says so much about his character.”

“Actually,” sounded a soft voice from the doorway, “he buys it for his girlfriend’s dad.”

Temari’s head cocked to one side, and she felt her stomach flip. “He told me he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

Suki blushed and bit down on her lip. “Sorry, I guess it is just an assumption. But ever since I’ve worked at Bluebird he comes in almost every Tuesday and gets one for the blonde girl from the flower shop to give to her dad.”

“I was wondering about the shirt…”

“Kankuro,” Temari warned, “you shouldn’t have even fucking spoken to him!” She could feel her blood boiling, and her hands were sweating as she tried to compile all her stuff.

“I’m Suki, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

The blonde snapped round to look into the girl’s smiley eyes, forcing a warm smile. “Oh, yeah, um…I’ll get out of your way.” She threw her folder and papers into her arms and turned on her heel quickly. “It was nice to meet you, too.”

“Oh, Tem?”

Agitated she stopped, refusing to turn.

“So I’m not to talk to Shiki-thingy again if I see him?”

“Shikamaru!” she huffed. “And no. He’s my patient.”

“Okay, but…” There was a moment of silence. “I know what you think of him, but…Don’t even think about it. He seems like pretty weak guy, Tem. It’s not worth it…”

She couldn’t help herself—everything had built up slowly, to the point where Temari threw everything she held to the floor and stormed back towards him, pulling him away toward the corner of the room. Quickly she shot Suki a regretful smile and grabbed him by the collar. Her eyes flared up, cheeks growing red, and she could see in Kankuro’s eyes that he was ready to laugh at her, but she was moments away from punching him.

“Kankuro, I swear,” Temari warned, in a low and threatening tone, “that if you speak ill of that guy one more time, I’ll freaking punch you.”

He smiled. “Chill out, Tem, I just—”

“No. The guy has survived three suicide attempts and spends every day of his life feeling like he’s got nobody on his side, and yet I’m sure he still smiled at you, didn’t he?” she added, level and calm. Her eyes set on him sharply, and immediately she saw his brow soften. “Didn’t he?”

Kankuro nodded slowly, bewildered.

She loosened her grip and backed away, shaking her head. “So don’t you dare say he’s weak. You know what it’s like, Kankuro. You’ve seen. Be bloody respectful.”

Kankuro didn’t have a chance to speak before she hurried upstairs, hauling her belongings and slamming her door. She felt like she’d embarrassed herself, but she recognised it was necessary—she couldn’t hear him talk like that anymore, whether he meant it or not. He didn’t mean any harm, but nobody else knew that, and his inconsiderate words weren’t something everyone could stomach.

She could only hope he hadn’t put Shikamaru through his usual snide shit.

~~~

“Shikamaru Nara, get your butt in here now!”

“Mum, leave it out, would you?” called back the young man, halfheartedly. “I’m not a kid.”

As he sat outside on his doorstep, staring up at the stars, he puffed away on his fourth cigarette of the hour. But now, as the night sky was black, speckled only with a few dots of glitter, the warmth of his chest was doing nothing for his heart.

This was becoming a problem, he could tell; how much he was relying on this woman. It had only been—what?—thirty-something hours since he’d taken the plunge and told her about it, and a week remained until the worst part: the session that followed. The telling unearthed the problem, but the talking just pulled at the roots with no real force, like tweezers that almost pull out every hair, but can’t. So, instead, they leave it more painful and infuriating than ever before, and it’s okay because they tried. Maybe someone else can pull it, and fully dig out the roots that are so twisted, rooted so deep that nobody has ever had the chance to try; not even him.

“Hey, kid, are you okay?”

Shikamaru slowly looked up, suddenly whipped from his thoughts. Only when his head moved did he feel the pools welling in his eyelids, and he blinked them away before the man could see him. “I’m fine, Dad.”

Shikaku made his way down the steps and fell down beside his son, nudging him gently with his elbow. “It doesn’t seem like it’s working.”

“What?”

“Don’t play stupid,” sighed the older man. “You know what. The therapy.”

With a shake of his head, Shikamaru tapped his ash into the soil of one of his mother’s favourite flowerpots absentmindedly—something he’d later regret massively. “I’m not sure, honestly.” His head turned slightly to face his father, but he couldn’t lift his eyes all the way. “So far I definitely feel…”

“Happier?”

The hope in his voice was almost too much for Shikamaru to bear, and when he shook his head, he could see out of the corner of his eye a subtle droop in his posture.

“I was going to say I feel hopeful, this time.”

Shikaku grunted. “Your mother said she tried to find a man but couldn’t.”

“I don’t care. My therapist, she’s…” Shikamaru rubbed his eyes, taking a long drag as he thought of the right word. “She’s understanding,” he settled on.

“I should hope so. We pay her enough; that’s her basic job.”

“No, you don’t get it, old man,” groaned the son, once again dropping ash into the flowerpot. “She understands how to get to me—how to make me actually engage with her.”

Chuckling, Shikaku shook his head. “And what weird sacrifice did she have to do to pull that one off?”

“Har, har,” Shikamaru sighed. “We just play chess—if I lose she gets to choose what I talk about.”

“But you’ve not lost since—”

“Since a couple of weeks ago when she thrashed me in just a few of minutes.”

Instantly, the older man straightened up, grinning. “She beat you?”

Shikamaru nodded, a gentle grin stretching across his fave—a mirror image of his father. “Yep.”

“She beat you?”

“Only the once, but yeah,” he chuckled in reply. “And I talked to her about a lot of shit.”

“What about the…the, um…”

While he was undeniably uncomfortable answering, we wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable in that precise moment as Shikaku, so he forced the words out. “Yeah I told her about them. All three.” He took a deep breath before finally turning to look at his father. “She said it was okay, and that we didn’t need to dwell on it, just fix it. She said she can fix me.”

“And you believe her?”

“Wow, Dad. Your optimism is so great.”

“No, really. Do you?”

The look in Shikaku’s eyes was wholesome—full of softness and care—and it made Shikamaru feel stupid for ever thinking that man wanted anything more than for his son to be happy.

With a gentle smile, Shikamaru nodded, taking a short drag. “She’s wonderful, and she actually cares.”

“Not like—”

“No,” he lied, “not like that. She’s my therapist, old man. Even if I did care about her like that or by some chance she did me, I’m better than that. She’s certainly better than that.”

“So why do you look so hurt?”

Shikamaru dropped his head again. “Dad, you were told you should send me to some rehabilitation, helping place, right?”

He hummed in response.

“Why didn’t you?”

There was a silence.

“It was selfish at first; we didn’t want to admit you needed the help you do need. But in the end it cans down to one thing—you need your friends. You need your normal life, or else you’re never going to get out of your own head, Shikamaru.” Shikaku budged him with his elbow playfully. “You’re too much like me. You’re in you’re head, constantly, and only the people around you can ground you.”

“She grounds me,” he interrupted. “I walk into that room with her and I feel safe from myself. I feel free from whatever I think at any given moment, because she’ll bat it aside as though it’s false.”

“It is false, Shikamaru.”

“But when my head gets bad, all I want is...” he trailed off, shaking his head and taking another drag, too red with embarrassment to make another sound.

Shikaku pointed at the dying cigarette in his son’s hand and hopped to his feet. “You really should stop it. It’s a bad habit.”

“No matter how much you say it, old man, I’m never gonna—”

“I know.” He smiled, kicking him gently with his foot. “Now, call her.”

[notquitejiraiya]

letters to neji [#9] - leeten

This part is very short, and a little bit of a filler chapter, but i guess everything needs those.

(It’s just harder to disguise filler chapters when your story is made up o loads of different letters, each written at specific times in relation to the story....oops)

Still, I hope you enjoy it.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Neji, I did it!

This morning I plucked up the courage and I did it!

Well, I knew he wasn't going to say anything to me if I didn't speak to him first, and what's wrong with a girl making the first move and pushing for what she wants? Can you blame me?

So, yeah: I spoke to Yoshiro today. It felt like we were talking for hours, but really it must've just been maybe about ten minutes. Sure, it wasn't that long a conversation, but within that time we both ended up smiling an awful lot, and it was long enough.

Originally I wasn't going to say anything as I saw him walk by me, but I'm not one to chicken out, am I? I saw my chance, however awkward or odd the timing, and I took it by the scruff the neck to take charge, running out of the shop I was browsing through and into the street.

"Hey!" I called after him, unsure whether to shout by name. But he ignored me, clearly not knowing I meant him to be the subject of my shouts.

I cried out again, jogging as I tried to catch up. "Hello? Suna?"

His head whipped round, and his dark hair with it. It was long and rather floppy, a lot like yours, Neji, but a deeper, darker shade of brown - so deep it was almost black in the right light. On his face lay a look of confusion, which didn't shock me one bit. After all, no matter if I knew him and asked around about him, the young man had never met me.

For the next few minutes we walked and talked as I lead him - slowly - to the Hokage's office to meet with Temari, Shikamaru and Kakashi again. He could've made it by himself easily, but I took it upon myself to be his guide. As unecessary as my presence was, the chat was worth the time that may have been wasted.

I found out a few things about Yoshiro on that stroll; most interestingly that he has two little brothers and a little sister, all of whom hate that he is a shinobi.

"They don't want me to be hurt," he told me. "Especially my little sister. She says she hates the fact she never knows if I'm coming home or not."

He is two years younger than me, his sister eight years younger than him.

As an only child I don't understand how it feels to love a sibling. I only know the love of my parents and my love for you. I suppose Lee, too, as my closest friend does count, but I don't know how our bond could compare to that of a brother or sister.

Speaking of Lee, I haven't ‘hurt’ him since my encounter with Gai-sensei, but I worry that's mostly 'cause I haven't seen him much. Recently he's  not been around, as if shying away from my company when usually he'd bask in it. I haven't had the chance to reapply or tie his bandages too tight when he needs them sorted, and he's been too busy with "intensive training" to hang out with me at all. It's unnerving me now. We never go more than three days without speaking, aside from when we're villages apart, but we've almost gone a two weeks with barely any communication.

I'm scared for us - I think I've fucked up somehow.

Currently he's on a mission, one that I wasn't required to go on apparently, however they chose some random ninja to fill in for what could've been me. It's strange, and just thinking about it makes me wonder if I'm really useful to him; does he really need me or am I just pretending?

Still, I knew once he'd trudged away from me out of the village gate I couldn't call him back, and if I did he wouldn't answer, so I took the time I had and I focussed on talking to Yoshiro.

(For the record, it worked out how I hoped. We have a date two evenings from now. I don't know how I should feel, but my stomach feels sick whenever I even think about it and I worry that's not good.)

Neji, it's been a week since Lee left. I can't see him now and I can't watch over him so please, please do it for me. Without us he'd surely get scared and slapped senseless.

Thank you for listening, and wish me luck with my date (that feels so weird and wrong to ask of you, sorry).

Love,

Tenten.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

I hope that was okay - a much more important an progressive part will be up VERY soon, so I hope you’ll stick around for that. Thank you, and as always, all other parts can be found under this tag: ‘nqj ltn’

[notquitejiraiya]

letters to neji [#7] - leeten

It’s been a while since I posted a part of this series, which is a shame because I really love it. Hopefully I’ll get back into writing it now, as I have the next few parts planned out fully, already.

I really hope you enjoy this part - love you all and enjoy :)

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Dear Neji,

I feel as though life has finally slowed back down to a pace at which I'm comfortable. Or has it sped up from the many, dragging months I've been grieving? Oh, I don't know and I’m not sure when I will. All I do know is that now, for reasons unknown, I feel so happy and alive once again.

Since my birthday three weeks ago, Lee and I have been sent on three missions - just us. And, although they've not been long or arduous, it's been a joy to go on them.

I've been spending so much time with him. It's like since he's shown me how much he cares I just can't keep away from him, and I can’t quite figure out why. Outside of missions we've trained more and I've patched up his wounds for him rather than Sakura doing it for him (which he always used to prefer). It makes me feel privileged and more helpful to know that I can heal him, even if it's not with medical ninjutsu.

Oh, on a totally different note, I've finally moved out of my parent’s house. I now live much closer to where you rest, which I'm so grateful for, as I find myself visiting you more and more often, whether it's by myself or with Lee.

We bumped into Hinata resting flowers on your grave on Saturday when we visited. Originally, Lee planned to do the same, but so as not to make Hinata feel bad, he gave his flowers to me instead. They're stood proudly in a vase in front of me now. Daffodils; his favourite.

One of them is lying with you right now. I couldn't walk away without leaving one for you.

My eyes keep flickering to them, so I'm sorry if I seem distant. For some reason my brain keeps shooting from you, to flowers, to the hot-blooded jumpsuit dork who gave them to me. I had missed how close we were, and now that's back I suppose it's got my thoughts running around, like when you and I finally got close, again.

It's strange because although I'm certain I was in love with you, my thoughts about Lee recently aren't too dissimilar from what mine used to be of you. I don't love him - not like I loved you anyway, but don't worry, I am moving on.

There's a young Suna-nin who came over with Temari. You remember her, right? The girl with the four pigtails. Well she's here on some business, and she's brought him for what we assume is ambassador-type training. We know she won't be giving up her position though, because otherwise she won't be able to see Shikamaru, which every single one of us has noticed is why she really comes all this way.

Anyway, this Suna-nin is really sweet. He's got dark features, black hair to his shoulders, and a smile that can brighten a day. He reminds me a little of you, and a little of Lee, which is really new and nice, ya know.

I wish I could muster the courage to talk to him, ask him if maybe he'd want to do some training or go up to the top of the building Lee took me and watch the lights go out across the village. Then again, would he like that? I don't know.

I'm not your typical girl, am I? I'm not like Sakura or Ino or even Hinata. The idea of going out to dinner doesn't appease me half as much as that of joining me in throwing shuriken and kunai at targets for a while. Dresses make me cringe, and I feel awkward when I shop for anything that couldn’t brutally harm someone in battle. You can’t say I’m not the stereotype tom-boy, can you?

After we returned here to the village from the battlefield when the war was over, a young girl ran up to me and told me I was “incredibly pretty”, and that she wanted to grow up to be just like me. At that, as you can imagine, I was in shock and I couldn't speak for myself as much as I wished to. Still, somehow from behind me came an answer to the little girl.

"She is beautiful. But what you want is to be strong - strength is what makes Tenten so exceptional."

Lee stood with his hands on his hips beaming at me, and waved at the little girl as she giggled, hugged me and ran for her mother with a smile. I'm not sure what sparked him to say such sweet things about me, but I felt completely struck by modesty. I didn't deserve his kind words after all the things I'd said to him in rudeness over the years; after my impatience, my coldness...

Back then, we both were deep in mourning, and that simple compliment was all that got me through the week that followed, so I had to thank him greatly.

I told Lee that I thought the Suna-nin was cute, but he didn't seem too enthusiastic about my own enthusiasm. He simply smiled and told me good luck with him, and to loosen the bandages I was wrapping because I was pulling too tightly. I felt bad.

I didn't mean to hurt him. I didn’t want to

I suppose I'll let you know how it goes if I do talk to that Suna guy, but I've got to meet with Gai-sensei. For some reason he wants a word with me, and he wouldn't tell me why.

I still miss you, Neji - so much. I'm just finally moving on.

Next letter will explain all these unknown things, I should hope.

Love,

Tenten.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

I hope you enjoyed this. For the other parts search my blog with ‘nqj ltn’ and you should find the rest of the series. More should be with you very soon :)

[notquitejiraiya]

By request I have opened up submissions for the following purposes:

- if you have art you’d like me to bring to life in the form of fic

- if you have a head canon you want me to expand on

- if you have something you want me to write based off of

Of course, asks are still open for requests, but I’ve been told this might be a nice addition to the blog, and I’m here to make you guys happy so yeah :)