"Tch."
Tenten flinched. She looked up from where she knelt in the dirt, a decent sized orange in hand. She was not feeling like today was her day. One petty annoyance after another had been eating away at her patience - and Tenten was honest enough to admit she wasn't the most patient person in the world on her good days.
She recognized the shinobi who had spoken, and his companion. They were younger than her, if memory served. Their names flickered across her mind.
"Do you need any help?" The larger of the two men was smiling, a bit self-consciously. He eyed the oranges scattered across the ground, and the brown grocery bag they had presumably come from. The bottom of the bag lay ripped open, a jagged, gaping mouth.
"Ah," she wasn't sensitive enough to refuse help offered in good nature. Lee had taught her how to say yes gracefully. "Yes, actually, that would be great." She flashed an honest smile, something she had grown into. Smiling, for Tenten, was relatively rare. Serious kunoichi didn't smile. Often.
The man who had offered his help squatted, palming several of the oranges at once. He hesitated in offering them to her. "Do you have anything to hold these?"
Tenten looked down at the bag, then her shirt. "...I guess not." A look of consternation crossed her face.
She heard the second man sigh. "How typically troublesome of a female." He slouched, frowning.
"Excuse me?" Tenten's voice rose a little, sharp.
"Shikamaru," the other man said warningly.
Tenten latched onto the name with a vengeance. Now she recognized him. He was a fellow chuunin. Shikamaru. She allowed her bangs to fall over her eyes, eyebrow twitching. She really shouldn't take out the frustration of her day on a near stranger, even though -
"...pain in the ass, like every other woman..."
- Oh screw this. Tenten slid her fingers into her leg pouch and palmed the familiar weight of her kunai. "I'm so sorry," she said, keeping an amazingly neutral tone as she pushed herself up, purposefully aiming the kunai at Shikamaru's scrotum, "For being so typically feminine." Her eyes flashed as Shikamaru had darted to the side, looking particularly pained. "If you have such a problem with women," she ground out, another kunai in hand, "Then kindly keep it to yourself!"
Shikamaru narrowly dodged the second projectile, frowning. What was with women? Why did they have such a propensity for violence? Where did they get all their energy from? He knew it was pointless to question even as a slew of ninja stars attempted to rain on his mental parade.
"Tch. Troublesome." It figured. Tenten glared as she watched him take the higher ground - in this case, the rooftops - not inclined to simply let this slide. Ostensibly, it was because of his insult to women.
Technically, it was (largely) misplaced anger.
"Get back here, you sexist bastard!" Shikamaru's companion attempted to stop her from taking after the shinobi, but she shrugged him off in annoyance, pulling one of her seals free and biting down on the pad of her thumb. Shikamaru thought he was going to run?
Oh, this game was on.
Shikamaru soon found himself mentally cursing the high sun of noon. Also the troublesome enthusiasm his female aggressor displayed. So far he'd been flushed out of his attempt at hiding to gain the upper hand three times - and escaped a most strange near-castration twice.
This was ridiculously troublesome. Women were so touchy. "Geez," he grumbled, moving their fairly one-sided battle toward the village outskirts. He didn't want to deal with telling an irate Tsunade why her villagers were showing up in the hospital with injuries from stray shinobi weaponry.
He had a sinking feeling Tsunade wouldn't be siding with him, in this case.
Besides, the shadows of the forest gave him the advantage, which he took as soon as possible.
The only problem being he had an extremely pissed member of the opposite gender giving him some of the most scathing glares he'd received in his life - which was saying something, knowing his mother and teammate.
Tenten refused to admit she was tired. She knew he had to be as well. Giving the pansy-ass nature of his attacks, at least. She forced herself to calm. "You can't keep this up forever." Her hands rested on the back of her skull, her body parroting the movement of his own.
He shrugged, watching her match the action. It briefly occurred to him that if anyone were to possess sufficient ego, this would be a perfect time to start signing their self love through another person. "True." He wasn't that concerned.
"I'm castrating you as soon as you falter."
He didn't really like that idea. "My mother expects grandchildren. I would never hear the end of her lecturing if I deprived her of that possibility."
"You could always adopt."
Actually, that was true. Now the trick was convincing his mother to adopt her own grandchildren and raise them independent of himself...
No. Shikamaru actually did entertain the thought of a family in the future. If he survived his early years as a shinobi.
Scratch that. If he survived this encounter.
Tenten sighed, forcing herself to let go of some of her anger. This was pointless. She'd wasted away the afternoon chasing Shikamaru's ass down, and she only had a bruised hip (sideways jump into a chimney when avoid his shadow bind), three gashes (in his pant legs, at least, not her own), and the remnants of a hair-tie (Shikamaru was combating frizzy-hair syndrome something furious) to show for it. "...You owe me seventeen oranges."
Shikamaru rolled his eyes, leaning his head back to observe the sky between the clouds. His time was running down - his chakra levels as well. He could feel Tenten attempt to resist the binding again then relax into it. Better to appease her now, and possibly escape unscathed. "Chouji likely has them all waiting for you." If he hadn't eaten them. It was always a chance with Chouji - sometimes the man simply enjoyed using his sense of taste a bit too much.
"Chouji?" Tenten raised her eyebrow, though only the leaves could note the facial expression. "Your companion?"
Shikamaru made a noise Tenten chose to interpret as agreement. Years of working with Neji at least made nonverbal communication less of a mystery.
"That's nice of him." She was losing the edge of her anger, and it reflected in her voice.
Which was good, Shikamaru determined, since he'd just reached the end of his time. He let the bind dissolve, noting with idle curiosity how Tenten appeared to not notice. She continued to look upward, her arms folded behind her head. "Yes. Chouji's that way." It was a complement, mostly.
Tenten shook her head, realizing her freedom as she did so. Reactively, her hand dropped to her leg, seeking out yet another weapon, only to encounter nothing. Ah. She looked down, frowning. This was mildly embarrassing. She was... out.
Shikamaru seemed to take note, sighing and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Are you done, woman?"
She bristled, then calmed herself. "My name is Tenten, you self-serving jerk, and as a matter of fact, I am not done. Just temporarily," she paused, searching for the word, "Stalled."
He made a noise of disgust, turning back toward Konoha proper. "Troublesome."
Tenten was inclined to agree, but for different reasons. She liked her battles to be decisive. This wasn't.
"Just you wait," she said, slipping past him in the dusk, "Shikamaru."
He wasn't inclined to, but strangely (or perhaps not so strangely) he believed this kunoichi was making a promise against his manhood. That didn't sit well with the shinobi, but he didn't have a word to say as she disappeared into the village. Crap. He looked upward, this time noting how close to dinner he really was. Now he was going to have to explain to his mother what had kept him out all afternoon. He wasn't looking forward to the upcoming lecture. Maybe he should bother himself to move out by now...
He sighed, making his way through the streets. Hopefully, this Tenten character would just forget about her vendetta on him in the next few days. Or else, he'd be dealing with an irate mother, teammate... And with his luck, best friend. "Tch. Tenten." He'd remember her, next time. Remember... And probably run.