Because a kunoichi is not a glamorous person, no matter what anyone thinks.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Kunoichi are broken beings. They are broken the day they're born, truly born, because a true kunoichi can't be born until the day they watch the life drain out from another from underneath their deft, clever fingers. Broken by their own misdeeds and the blood dribbling from their fingertips.
They are broken and made the perfect soldiers, malleable to everyone's wills. They throw, fight, make love and die according to their orders; they never even think about it, until the last moment when they realize that they've been used like a rag doll, and thrown away like one too.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi are slaves to the whims of their superiors; they fight, die, and give away their bodies without their own consent. They are sent to the beds of other men, sometimes with tears flowing behind a smiling mask, simply because they are being paid to extract information or kill the man who is about to bed them, and they mask pain and unhappiness beneath false but convincing cries of pleasure.
They would protest, but no one would listen to them.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi are comrades, the best any man will ever find. They will stick by you, fight to the last breath, clawing out the eyes of the enemy and sometimes even die with their hands wrapped around the enemy's throats.
Kunoichi are comrades who will comfort you simply by being there, with a small hand on the shoulder and an unspoken drink. Kunoichi will never let you down.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi learn to embrace with one hand and hold out on someone with the other. They use their body as a weapon, enticing, embracing, inciting desire and passion, and make their targets/victims dance to their wicked tune.
Kunoichi are the songstresses of desire unfulfilled.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi are liars. They lie to everyone. They lie to their superiors, to their friends, to their lovers and their families, to their comrades and to themselves.
They lie about many things. Little lies like how many they've killed in the past few months and who ate the favorite chocolate, and bigger lies about where they were the night before and who they've slept with and who they would destroy to get the job done.
And meanwhile, while they smile and laugh, they lie through their teeth and pray they won't be found out.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi have no identity. They don't have names or lives outside of their battles and missions. They don't have an individual identity or a sense of self. Quite simply, they belong to the village.
And the village never lets them forget it.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi kill without mercy. Whether it is a brutal, messy job with kunai and shuriken or a clean kill with precision, conducted with senbon and poisons, they detach themselves from reality in order to bring home much needed currency and resources to their village, no matter what the personal cost.
Be it an enemy, a comrade or a lover (especially a forbidden one), kunoichi rarely hesitate to draw the blade and cut the heartstrings. Regrets and sorrow may come later, but at the time of death there is only the moment and the mission.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi often long to be loved by someone. Their lives are filled with death and for the more unfortunate, empty, passionless sex, and they look to something better, something simpler, something sweeter.
The object may be unattainable, or inconceivable; a comrade who shows no interest in them, an enemy who showed them a moment of kindness, an older man who guides them, or even someone long dead.
This man whom they fixate on often represents something safe or something powerful, someone who can provide a steadying constant in their lives.
If they are lucky, they will find their feelings requited. Even then, they rarely manage to do it right, wanting for it to be better but subconsciously treating a love affair like another mission. But for the most part, kunoichi spend their lives tormented by feelings of unreciprocated love.
Sometimes they just can't get it right, no matter how hard they try.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi are worthless. They are cannon fodder, even more than the men. They are thrown away for the sake of the village, because there is always some eager, unknowing young girl willing to take their place.
Sometimes, a seasoned kunoichi will stare down at the body of a young one, her small, thin body having never gotten the chance to form the shape of a woman, and they will feel regret—
—Because within a matter of months, they will be gazing upon another pitifully small corpse.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi often retire early.
It's not because they've been injured, or because their tired of the shinobi life, but because their bodies are so wasted and drained by seduction and sex that they can no longer carry out seduction missions because few men would find them attractive.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi make bad mothers.
Kunoichi are killing machines, and go mad in small ways when cooped up in a house with a baby to take care of. They don't give life; they only take it away, and any other role is frighteningly foreign to them.
It is uncommon, but not unheard-of, for a kunoichi to kill her baby in order to take a mission again.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi are ill-used women. By the time they reach eighteen, they know more about the inside of a bedroom than a civilian twice their age, and it makes them feel sick inside.
A kage will send them on suicide missions without compunction, because kunoichi are defended by no one except themselves.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi are soldiers. They are emotionless when the situation calls for it, fighting like machines, because they have been told to.
They carry out orders like clockwork, defending and attacking, healing and destroying, throwing their bodies in the way of kunai without a moment's thought.
Because it simply doesn't occur to them to act otherwise.
.x.X.x.
Kunoichi are survivors. The men may be stronger, the men may be better fighters, but in the end it's the kunoichi who survives—
—To fight another day.