Disclaimer: Masashi Kishimoto owns Naruto.
Warning: This is my first fic, and english is not my best subject. But I just felt like writing this, so there.
Short nails dug into calloused palms, making dents in the hardened skin.
Prominent veins in the forearm became even more pronounced.
Yet her face mirrored the expressionless countenance of a mannequin; her eyes alert, searching, watching for enemies that would approach from the swirling dust; her muscles tense, in anticipation, ready to spring into action.
Clenched fists, trembling slightly, were the only thing that betrayed the emotional turmoil within.
A lesser shinobi would have reached their limit, broken under the pressure- after 3 days of intensive journeying, fatigue taking its toil; after having to restrain Kankuro, agony coursing through him, as the poison was being removed for 24 hours straight; after the worry that constricted her heart, for her brothers' survival.
A lesser shinobi would have lost control of their emotions, the way Matsuri had, disregarding the orders handed down, for the security of the village; would have abandoned this seemingly obsolete command and joined Naruto in the rescue for Gaara, her brother, the kazekage.
But Temari was no ordinary shinobi.
And still it took everything she had not to behave like one.