Chapter One : Let everything wither and die
"It's about time you started using that body weight to your advantage," Tenten called to the puppeteer who was already frustrated and getting tired. All those years of carrying his absurdly heavy puppets had left him with hard, heavy muscles, not lean ones accustomed to longer workouts like the petite konoichi in front of him. She made him look slow and clumsy and that made him all the more cantankerous.
Tenten's shadow clone continued her update on the ninja's progress as the real Tenten and Kankuro continued to spar.
"He's coming along," the clone picked at her cuticles with a kunai, "his endurance has already improved."
Gaara nodded at the information. He secretly congratulated himself for choosing his brother's taijutsu training instructor so well. Tenten had come with a résumé and recommendations as long as his leg, not to mention she was available and up for the challenge of training his more ornery and churlish sibling. After a mission revealed that he was nearly useless in hand to hand combat and a long hospital visit, Gaara set up his training arrangement during his recovery.
Kankuro was growling now, swearing and still pissed off that a girl half his weight and size was kicking his ass soundly. He smeared his puppeteer paint as he wiped the sweat from his brow. If she wasn't giving him tips and pointers it wouldn't appear that the konoichi was even paying attention in their little sparring sessions. In fact, most of the time when she wasn't egging him on, she looked bored, which again only served to bruise his brother's ego.
Gaara smirked. She was perfect.
Tenten's shadow clone looked up to the Kazekage with a raised eyebrow, "you coming out with me and Temari tonight or are you still swamped with paperwork?"
Gaara rolled his shoulder and held his eyes closed. He really could use a break. "We'll make Kankuro come too; I think he is starting to resent me for his training."
Tenten's clone scoffed. After a full week of battling the brute, he had taken to cursing her repeatedly not just behind her back, but relentlessly reminding her how much he hated this training and her loudly to her face. Tenten took in all in stride: she smiled at every name he called her, as if they were terms of endearment. She took it as encouragement, which in turn just enraged him all the more.
"Not bad, Cowboy,"
Shit! The puppeteer thought to himself.
She had made it a habit of calling him that right before she flipped him unceremoniously on his face, and pinned his arms against his body. Kankuro was eating turf before he could blink. Damn, she was fast.
She must have been able to sense his frustration level topping off. She leaned down and started to talk quietly in his ear, still straddling him.
"Now, now, Mr. Cranky Pants," she explained to which he responded with a grunt and solid effort to buck her off. She tightened her grip and shoved his face further into the ground. She leaned into the ninja grinding his teeth at her, "we both know that on the battlefield, me with my scrolls and you with your dollies, you would beat me hands down." The puppeteer reeled at her words and momentarily quit squirming.
Dollies!
Wait, did she just call him Mr. Cranky Pants!
"But for right now," her breath was hot in his ear, "you'll have to forgive me if I take just a little bit of pleasure in playing the dominant role." She jerked him just a little on her release of him. When he rolled over and stared at her stupidly, she was smirking over him with a hand outstretched to help him up as a peace offering. He wasn't used to this. Normally he was the cocky smartass.
He really shouldn't blame her. She was, after all, just doing her job. Somehow he doubted what she said was true. She could very well best him in a fight. He looked over to his brother, who was still talking to one of Tenten's shadow clones.
"What the hell?" Kankuro screamed incredulously. No way she had enough endurance to fight him and keep up a shadow clone.
"Gotta go," Tenten's shadow clone disappeared with a puff of smoke and a wink to the Kazekage.
The real Tenten pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. His progress was slow at best and her patience with him was running thin.
Kame, he was like a three year old some times.
Tenten called over to Gaara as she started to leave the fallen ninja, still sprawled on his back, concluding their sparring match for the day.
"Seven at The Dune's End, don't be late and be sure your smelly brother takes a shower," she waved as she exited the grounds.
Behind her, Gaara smirked.
o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o
His arms were folded across his chest, now showered and cleaned, sporting a new black traditional bunraku puppeteer's outfit complete with face paint. He shifted his scathing look between the twin bunned konoichi, who was laughing in unison with Temari, and his brother who still wore that damned smirk. The Dune's End was a bar/restaurant where shinobi loved to frequent. They were currently under a string of chili pepper lights on the patio terrace, enjoying their cold alcoholic beverages after their meal.
Gaara leaned back into his chair and continued to smile at the two konoichi in front of him. His sister had never taken to any other girl like Tenten, and it wasn't a wonder why. She was smart, competent and sassy to Kankuro. The two were almost inseparable.
"I hate her," the stewing ninja confessed under his breath so that only his brother could hear.
"I know." Gaara stated simply, taking a pull off his dark beer.
"Almost as much as I hate you," he turned to glare at his younger brother.
"I know," he repeated as the girl's musical laughter started to die down. "Mr. Cranky Pants." Kankuro's eyes bulged as his face whipped back to Gaara whose smirk was at full force.
He had heard that?
"Save the pillow talk for our training tomorrow." Tenten winked with a raised glass to Kankuro as if to toast him.
Kankuro just sat and muttered curses under his breath, shaking his head at his horrible luck.