DISCLAIMER: Oooh, if only I owned Naruto. Damn you, Kishi!
MISC: First ever ShinoTen, and it's kinda serious...not complete romance, because it would take a while for these two to hit it off. No sudden explosive romance for this pairing, methinks. So...this is my interpretation, and I seriously hope it's in character because all I've had in my head for weeks is Hidan. Written for Rel. Was originally gonna be a oneshot, but is being continued at her request. There's a fanart of the same name for the pairing by me (and coloured by Rel) at DeviantART. PLEASE REVIEW!
The wind dips the stalks of overgrown grass. They bend compliantly, swaying. The endless field of rich, spring-green is all there is - miles upon miles of dancing vegetation. The pale blue sky has a smattering of fluffy clouds. Not a hint of rain cumulus is visible. The sun hides behind one of the clouds. Its rays sparkle out from underneath the fluffy white, seeming to stretch downwards to the earth.
The stalks reach up to his waist, caressing him. Teasing him. He stands still, arms folded, the world darkened through his sunglasses. He wonders why he feels so at home here, where it's so empty of life. Only the movement of the stalks and the humming of the bugs tell him that he isn't completely alone. It's eerie in its human silence and space, but that's the way he likes it.
They've gone again – his team. Shino knows that his silence is as much to blame for his constant exclusion from missions, but he doesn't care very much. To him, it's a matter of principle. He doesn't believe that someone should be forgotten simply because they have nothing to say.
The breeze rustles his coat, almost blowing the hood off of his head. It dips the high, baggy collar of his under jacket to briefly reveal his thin lips before he pulls the collar back up again. Sometimes, Shino's glad to be on the fringe of things. He's glad to be outside of the strange ties that bind the other ninja of his generation because none of them seem to see or think things through very clearly.
They all hold onto their fairytales. They fight for their fairytales. Every single one of them.
Sometimes, Shino's glad that being left behind means he won't have to see them when reality comes knocking.
He tilts his head to the breeze and listens as one of his kikkai bugs returns to him. They've confirmed the identity.
Reduced in size by the distance is a large metal structure. Almost an inverted cone in shape, the deep grey speckled with large patches of rust sits amidst the tall grass. It looks old even though it is a fairly recent addition to the fields, and it sits against the sky like a cardboard cut-out.
The wind darts against his side. The sudden gust carries thick, deep emerald leaves off into the clouds. He follows them with his gaze.
A red and white stunt kite swirls in the sky. It catches thermals and dips in time with the grass. The ribbons trailing behind it catch the wind and twist.
Under his attention it seems to soar. Seems to get high enough to slip between the vapours of clouds and disrupt hues of blue. His arms slowly unfold. Calloused fingertips brush the blades of grass in a whisper before settling at his side.
He begins to step forward, hands outstretching. Fingers grasp at stems and tips in time with the motions of his feet. He moves through the tall field, only the whispers of the grass letting the world know that he is there.
The kite hits a thermal and shoots into a graceful spiral, rising up once more. He follows it with his intent stare and his body.
It is close now. He can see seams in the material, the strings attached to it as it dips and sways. He follows the strings to the puppeteer.
She moves in coordination with the thermals. Her legs work with lithe grace as she moves backwards. Arms shift, a pulley in each hand being tugged. The more she pulls her hands behind her, the higher the kite goes.
Soft brown hair is slipping loose from twin buns, dusting against her forhead and falling against her shoulders in tendrils. Her sleeveless shirt shows the muscles in her arms, small but compact. He tilts his head to the side.
Tenten is here often, though he's never come to see her before. Shino is fully aware that Tenten is forgotten, just like him, and that she's independent enough to think he might be pitying her. He's given her time and, in the streets of Konoha, he's given her his silent attention.
He thinks it's time now.
The head turns, brown strands catching the wind. They blow across her face, flicking into her eyes and getting caught between her wind-chapped lips. A hand reaches up, brushing the hair away. She tucks it behind her hitae-ate to get it out of the way.
The breeze blows past them. The soft green grass rocks around them, brushing their waists and arms. A smile cracks over her lips when she sees him – small, laced with anticipation. She turns back and begins moving her arms again. The kite rises higher into the air.
He approaches. She is utterly indistinguishable – scentless, with no hint of chakra. But heat radiates from her body. He unconsciously moves closer.
He glances over his shoulder. Their angle and constant backing up has moved them. He can see the metal structure growing clearer and larger.
She follows his gaze, brushing her hair away from her eyes again when it slips loose of the hitae-ate. "I like the water tower," she smiles. She doesn't seem bothered that she can't see his eyes, but her voice holds a wild edge to it. "It looks right because it doesn't, you know?"
He stares.
She chuckles quietly. "Never mind."
He lookes at her. Her smile is wide, eyes glowing. The kite is losing altitude, but she doesn't look at it.
The sun slips from behind the clouds. Its rays fly quickly over the waiting grass to bathe the two nin in warmth and gold. The light glints off of her hitae-ate and brings out highlights in her hair. Her skin looks soft and clear – he wants to touch it and feel the sensations his kikkai bugs have tried to tell him about for the past month. A group of birds begin circling the water tower.
She grins. Her arms fight to raise the kite again. As it ascends, she turns to him. One at a time, she fits a pulley into each of his hands, ignoring his sharp inhalation. She closes his fingers over the handles.
Moving behind him, her fingers encircle his wrists. Giving a little tug, she pulls his arms back, raising the kite a little. His elbows don't bend, the movement is stiff. His eyes are wide behind the sunglasses and his muscles are tense. She's bolder then he thought she would be, and much bolder then him. The realisation is a satisfying one.
She gives his wrists a little squeeze. He relaxes. His gaze softens and fixes on the kite. When she tugs his arms again, his elbows bend and the momentum is just right. The stunt kite soars, a dash of red on the wind.
He does it again, and again. He is barely aware that she is no longer helping him, but watching him with soft eyes – warm like melted chocolate.
Tenten, he thinks as the kite dances in the sky, also holds onto her fairytales. She most likely dreams of knights in shining armour and ivory towers.
The difference with Tenten is that she holds onto them because she knows she can't have them and never will. Shino thinks that this is an intelligent thing – a strong thing.
He looks over his shoulder at her. She quickly diverts her gaze to the water tower, her cheeks turning pink. Shino turns back to the kite and smiles behind the collar of his jacket.
Birds skim the kite as they fly by. The sun warms their faces.