Sweat ran down his back, turning the already dark blue t-shirt he usually wore stark black. His regular jacket had already been discarded, shoes taken off, and his pants rolled up to his knees, revealing muscular calves.
Punching and doing a small step to the right and a jump to the left, he continued the dance he had been into for well over an hour, hoping that maybe the move he had been practicing so hard would one day save his life in combat.
The forehead protector that normally adorned his forehead had also been forsaken, sweat soaking the cloth to the point where it was more a hindrance than a godsend. So, he closed his eyes against the small rivers of sweat pouring down his forehead, punching the chakra-enforced training stump before him for what felt the thousandth time.
His knuckles were starting to smart, his usual ignorance of pain slowly wavering as his hands became closer to bursting at the impact. Stopping for a second to massage a hand, he to hold back a smile as his nose twitched.
Conveniently close to his location a girl sat in a tree, her usual assembly of clothes forsaken for something more suited to the heat—a tank top and some red shorts that were short, but not too short.
She adjusted herself on the limb she was sitting on, trying to make the least amount of noise possible while trying to balance her own weight and that of a rather large picnic basket. With a glance at the sun to check the time, she nodded and concentrated on the other, trying to judge the distance between her and the sweaty man in the middle of the clearing.
She nodded to herself once she was sure of the distance and with a tight grip on the basket she jumped, just as he stopped punching to rest against the post. Her eyes gleamed, the vague thought that she finally had him flitting across her mind as she reached out with her free hand…
Only for the object of her attack to spin around, strong and muscular arms going around her waist. They both fell to the ground, dirt sticking to the backs of his sweaty legs as he took her full weight and some of the wind was knocked out of him. She managed to keep the basked from being crushed only through sheer luck, the thrill of adrenaline whenever she finally landed keeping her from worrying too much.
She wrinkled her nose at the smell of salt before relaxing into his arms as they tightened around her, accepting the hug in greeting. He angled his face so that they were looking right at each other, and smirked.
"Not even close that time. I could smell your perfume from a mile away—it's the one I bought you for your birthday, right?"
She shrugged, grinned, and rolled her eyes, standing up and brushing herself off only to push him down with one foot as he tried to get up.
"Did you forget who it was that had made you dinner for the past three months?" She gestured to the amazingly intact basket sitting feet away.
"Then I should have just let you win?" He said, easily lifting her foot and jumping up to grab her in another hug.
"I'm just saying you might want to watch it next time—you never can tell when someone might slip a little something in your food…" She said, leaning up for a kiss. He, as expected, deepened it, one of the hands moving from her waist to flick at a silky brown bun.
"I'm the one that's being attacked…" He said, going for a pout and nudging her nose with his. She just laughed.
"Oh, my poor little fox!" She cried, hands cupping his face. "Don't worry Naruto, I'll protect you!"
"As I'd expect of my Tenten, number one and only Weapons Mistress of Konoha!" He cried, and she laughed. They kissed again, the picnic basket lying forgotten in the grass behind them.