A Few Screws Loose

50 Shinobi Prompt 30 — Flirt

Tenten had always known she was a few screws short when it came to understanding the opposite sex. She just didn’t realize she was the only female among the group she regularly talked to, that was absolutely clueless.

“Have you two gone on a date yet?” Sakura had teased warmly.

“Tell me everything!” Ino had demanded. “Is he a good kisser?”

“Do you like him too?” Hinata had asked shyly.

“They tell me you have a boy gunning for you heart now.” Temari had said abruptly upon arriving in Konoha.

Even the elder kunoichi said the same. “You can do better.” Anko had muttered absently. “I mean, hell, he isn’t that good looking no matter what others say.”

“Does he make you happy?” Kurenai had asked in concerned. “Because that’s really the most important thing.”

“He’s a bit of an odd choice wouldn’t you think so?” Shizune had mentioned offhand.

“Are you two dating?” Tsunade has asked an eyebrow raised.

Tenten had answered all of them the same way. “What are you talking about?”

“You two flirting.” was the unanimous response.

Tenten had stared blankly ahead, utterly confused. “I was flirting? When? Wait, he was flirting with me?”

Needless to say, by the end of the day, Tenten felt very confused. What was the whole deal with flirting? How did one even know when they were flirting? She got different answers from everyone and only ended the day feeling annoyed and bothered.

He wasn’t flirting with her right?

Maybe it’s not that she was missing a few screws when it came to the opposite sex that made her miss the ‘flirting’. Maybe it was that all the other girls she knew had a few too many screws and imagined things that weren’t there.

After all, he couldn’t really have been flirting with her.

A/N: I leave it up to you guys to imagine who it was that was flirting with Tenten. ^_^

Idol

50 Shinobi Prompt #08 — Hokage (or any of the ‘Kages)

Tenten had never really ever told anyone why she became a shinobi. She never told anyone what had motivated her. Never bothered to truly discuss it. The reason she decided to become a shinobi had always been a well harbored secret that gave her motivation.

The reason she’d wanted to become a shinobi, was because of the tales she heard surround Tsunade. One of the legendary Sannin. As a little girl, Tenten gobbled up stories of the powerful kunoichi; from her younger exploits to those in her elder age. Tenten became so fascinated by her story she would dream of meeting her. She didn’t have imaginary friends like most children her age, instead she talked to an imaginary Tsunade who taught her secret ninja moves.

That’s all it took to really get her started. Once Tenten had delved into the woman’s life, she knew she’d never be able to come out again. In essence, she’d sold her soul to the trade. Because of that, Tenten worked hard to do everything and anything she possibly could to get into a proper ninja school. She trained, she studied, she even helped out more at the orphanage in hopes that they would grant her one favor.

In time, her hard work paid off. She went to school, she trained, she studied, she became a kunoichi and joined Team Gai. Through many mishaps and tribulations, Tenten managed to sufficiently become a kunoichi she’d be proud to meet Tsunade as. Way before it was reasonable for her to do so, Tenten was a kickass kunoichi. Not just a simpering twit. Not just a little girl. But a real bona fide shionbi. She was tough, she was strong, and she never let anyone say otherwise about her.

When she heard Tsunade was to become the next Hokage, Tenten was filled with inner jubilation. She would finally meet her idol!

When she met Tsunade, Tenten did her best to hide her disappointment. Sure, the Hokage was a fantastic woman. She was powerful, strong, and a damn good shinobi. She was skilled and eloquent. Everything Tenten expected her to be.

The problem was, to Tenten, it no longer seemed enough.

She was a gambler, a bit of an idiot at times, a risk-taker, a slight drunk. In essence, Tsunade was human. She was the very definition of a powerful human. Tenten had imagined her idol as subhuman. As perfection. As excellence. As everything and anything that a human girl should aspire to be.

Tsunade was amazing.

But Tenten could be better.

“Hokage-sama.” Tenten would always greet respectfully. “You called?”

She still owed Tsunade everything. Without her, Tenten would not be a shinobi. Without her, she might have ended up as a simpering civilian with nothing more on her mind than finding a husband. Tenten had found a goal and owed it all to Tsunade. But, she owed it to her dream — she owed it to her imaginary chats with Tsunade, to aim for the sky and nothing less.

Tsunade had been her idol.

Now, Tenten’s idol, was only excellence itself.

Fading Away

Since the dawn of time, or at least, as far back as anyone on earth could really recall, the world had been set down with specific rules and statues. Some things were bad, and some things were good. You couldn’t do one thing, but you could do this other thing. There were rules, there were morals, and then there were the never stopping barrage of ethics.

Continuing from that, the shinigami had always watched over earth, had always thwarted those who threatened to disturb the peace. Destroying those in danger from becoming Kishin. There was always evil, and there was always good. Even when the deity’s in charge of being good were the evil ones.

The story of the witch is a simple one. It’s not pleasant and it’s certainly not fair, but it’s as easy as it goes. The first thing about witches, is that they’re all deviously close to the precipice of insanity. Unlike normal humans, they were born with an extra bout of supernatural ability. Unlike weapons, they were born with too much control over their ability. Unlike meisters, they were born with no need to rely on anyone else. Witches, have too much power for their own good, and are more easily prone to get lost in the sinfully delicious maze of exerting the most out of that power. But that is not were their tale begins, but it is where their faults lie. Every fool could tell you that one chooses their own path. The same goes for witches; despite flirting the line between sanity and insanity, despite pushing the limits between right and wrong, witches have always had a choice.

It is the faults of the shinigami that have made most witches choose the same derelict path for years.

In the past, the dark and indeterminable past that no one really enjoys to speak of, Shinigami-sama was not the god he is today. He was a twisted and confused soul, strongly allied with Eibon. In fact, it’s rumored that his pursuits with Eibon are largely responsible for his lack of soul. Not that anyone has ever been able to prove it. Regardless, in the past, darkness and chaos ruled the world. Demon tools made back and forth, despair, anguish, indescribable horror.

Back in those times, witches freely chose the side of light as often as they chose the side of dark. Back in those times, witches were not responsible for the cruelty in the world – at least, not most of it anyway. Eibon and Shinigami were. In those days, magic was respected and beseeched for help. In those days witches were an idol, a dream, a hope.

Then everything changed.

Some would say for the better.

Witches will forever say it was for the bad. The Shinigami realized his err and did all he could to relieve the world from the chaos he had helped create. No one is quite certain of what it was that changed his mind, but everyone knows what came from it. Eibon was destroyed. Most of the evil put down and new reign of righteousness swept the land. The first great fight came with horrible repercussions.

The witches fought the repercussions most strongly, their magic was at stake – their very life was at stake. What was demanded of them would require giving up the magic they prided themselves on. They were born on the precipice of insanity, once you see both worlds; it’s not something you’re likely to give up. It made sense in a way, to take the magic – they were the ones in most danger of harming the world. But it was still a cross of rights. It was still their life and not something they would easily give up.

Between being in accordance to the current rules and keeping what was theirs, most witches chose the obvious. They kept their magic and went into hiding. From that hiding festered bitterness and resentment. From having to conceal their true souls and personality dug them deeper to insanity. Pressed them farther away from right and closer to wrong. When the world hates you, you only learn to hate the world. As time wore on, choosing a path of righteousness for witches was all but obliterated. Being a witch simply came to mean having fun, wreaking havoc, doing whatever one felt like, and avoiding being killed.

Many witches focused on demon gods, ruling the world, and kishin. Many other witches simply focused on little pleasures, no goal but only their own delights. It wasn’t that they lacked empathy to other people, it was that they had lived in such a situation, that they felt it was their right. They couldn’t fit in to the world, so they took the world instead.

The ones who took it the hardest were those with the most power.

Medusa and Archane were the most powerful witches to grace the earth in the longest time. Both intelligent, both strong, both needing something more than trivial games and silly pranks. Both Medusa and Archane lived under the oppression that witches faced, both women had to struggle with becoming faded imprints on the world, not being able to fully step for fear of being caught. And both women could do no such thing.

They could not hide.

They could not fade.

They could not be ashamed.

And because of the inner turmoil, because of the pain, they did the only sane thing a witch could do – they destroyed their heart. They destroyed their feelings, their guilt, their inner child – they destroyed everything that kept them stuck in fear. They gave in to the wrong path, they touched insanity, and felt pleasure in doing so. Once they forgot about fading, and cared not about hiding, they could do so much more things. They could become the women they were supposed to be.

A witch did not have an easy life. A witch had to be certain things, and when she wasn’t she had to be smart enough to work around it. A witch was plagued to disappear and leave no imprint, except when she crossed the line and tried to tip the world back into the darkness that first cursed them into oblivion.

Any sane witch will chose to give into insanity, because fading away is too hard to do.

Study

Azusa, unlike Marie, had no fantasies about finding a man and settling down. Such things like marriage seemed a trifle bore and nuisance to somebody like her. Love was only a pity’s resort, and connection to a man only served as a hindrance. Yet, she was always interested in Stein as a little girl, though not the way one would imagine. Franken was always a disturbed young kid that interested her even when he probably shouldn’t.

She once caught him trying to dissect one of their peers at shibusen. She wasn’t sure if he was ever actually going to dissect the student or was just toying with him, but nonetheless she pinched his ear and twisted him away from the poor kid, cursing obscenities at him.

She’d had quite a foul mouth when she was younger. A bossy foul-mouthed child.

She was still bossy, but she’d cleaned up her vocabulary wonderfully. Azusa was more than just a little disappointed when Marie was chosen to be Stein’s temporary partner. She’d never admit it out loud, but she rather wished she could be his partner. But Marie was the better choice. Azusa was more likely to increase his insanity with her attitude. “Don’t dissect Marie, Stein.” Azusa had said calmly before leaving to her post.

“I can think of more interesting people to dissect.” He replied dully, his eyes showing his clear annoyance.

Azusa smirked. “So, it is.”

Azusa had no intentions of finding a man to settle down with, and she was not deluding herself by thinking that maybe one day, Stein could be the one. She was merely intrigued by the doctor, and Azusa liked analyzing the things that interested her. Stein was not a man, he was a study.

Azusa liked her studies.

On Penmanship

50 Shinobi Prompt 43 — Ink Blotch

Summary: Of all the weapons she’d ever wielded, the most difficult one to master was the pen. Calligraphy was an incredibly difficult thing to master…

Tenten slid the pen carefully across her eighty-fifth scroll that day. This one had to come out perfect — it just had to!

The first line glided over the paper effortlessly, making it’s mark with precise beauty and precision. Absolute perfection. The second line met the first in a dance of subtlety. One word, one sign, one mark, and then the rest. After each mark there was always another and each one depended on the last.

The heavy black ink was soaked up by the paper as if with greed, as if needing the liquid to stay alive.

Tenten grinned happily as she neared the end. She was going to do it! She was finally going to–

Tenten glared furiously at the paper as one single drop fell unceremoniously onto the paper. One single drop ruining the masterpiece. A disgusting ink blotch now stained what would have been her first summoning scroll. “Ugh!” Tenten growled and tossed the scroll at the wall.

Why was it so damn hard?

She could throw fifteen kunai at the same time and always hit her mark. She could wield a kunai, an extensive blade, a nunchunk — she could wield every damn weapon in the spectroscope of weapons! She could jump the farthest lengths and heights! Hell, she could even do some handy genjutsus! Regardless of how hard learning how to utilize weapons was, it was nothing, nothing like writing summoning scrolls. She could pick up the necessary skills when it came to a weapon immediately, but when it came to writing a few stupid words on a scroll she had trouble.

Why did her penmanship have to be so horrible? Why could she not write a stupid scroll without screwing up!?

Tenten glared at the scroll.

Oh, she would master it.

She would master it if it took her years. All she knew was that she was going to learn how to write a summoning scroll. She was going to learn how to write one and it was going to become her best friend. She did not become a ninja to become a mediocre one. She wanted to stand out. She wanted to be proud of herself. If she was going to do something, she was going to go all the way.

She was not just going to be some stupid girl who could throw a kunai. She was not just going to be a girl who could fight.

She was going to be a weapons’ mistress, and there was nothing on hell, or heaven, or earth, that would impede her from learning how to write a summoning scroll.

Tenten picked up another empty scroll and began anew.

She would not let the ink beat her.

She would win; she wouldn’t stop until she did.