Foundling
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Plane Jain
Akihito felt the bitter spring air wedge into his bones, and his joints protested feebly, arthritis flaring up mildly. A few more weeks, he guessed, judging by the pain. A few more weeks until spring had finally decided to stay at last and settle in like a sun-warmed cat; for now though, the weather prowled about suspiciously, hooking claws of bitter winds into the air. Akihito walked down the steps slowly, careful not to overly exert himself. The slow ritual of morning meditation in the outer garden continued on, no matter how temperamental the weather was; with his keen ears, he heard the signs of the other monks stirring, the sound of tatami mats crinkling against straw sandals.
His foot found purchase on the familiar shale stone, bleached by the sun and rain and blessed by time. He moved forward, his other foot coming down, when it bumped into something entirely unexpected. And soft. Surprised, he lost his balance, nearly crashing into the wet shale and dewy grass, before he quickly righted himself with a quick twist of chakra and a flutter of his robes. Curious, he extended his senses slightly, poking and prodding at this soft thing on the stone steps. Akihito's unseeing eyes blinked owlishly as he considered the small lump of soft swaddled blankets and chakra currently sitting on the bottom-most step of the Fire Temple of The Valley of The End.
"Kiyoshi-san," he called out gently. A small shaved head immediately popped out of the open sliding door. "Yes, Tanaka-sama?" Kiyoshi queried politely.
"Please inform Ito-san that we have another foundling- for the village," Akihito emphasized, and Kiyoshi bowed his understanding, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.
Akihito settled his old bones next to the swaddled babe, and traced a finger down the curve of her cheek. "March 9. It is a good day to be found, and it shall be a fine enough day for a new birth." His fingers snagged a scroll tucked next to the infant's arms, and the sensitive pads traced out the pattern of the design. "Tea country," he muttered, feeling the distinctive swirls of a dragon's fanged mouth and its long sinuous body. Then his fingertip scraped against the ink-rough symbols of a seal, and Akihito bent closer, chakra detecting a distinctive sediment of ground pearl embedded in the ink. "And Whirlpool fuuinjutsu." He cocked his head toward the abrupt cawing of a crow, before turning his attention back to the babe on the steps. "Who, and what exactly are you doing here, little one?"
A possible explanation on why Tenten doesn't have a last name
and her Chinese-style hair/clothing.