Well this was my first attempt at a drabble, so tell me what you think! Don't like, don't flame please!
This drabble took me some time to write since I had to research a lot on both of the character's techniques and such. It takes place during Shippuden, hope you enjoy!
She crouched, low to the ground, the feeling of wind whistling in her ears subsiding to a low hum. The air took her into its hold as she stilled, stale and hot, and it was quiet, save for him. She could hear his breathing layered over hers, labored and uneven, and grinned slightly, a bead of perspiration tracing the long curve of her throat.
The hushed sounds were deafening, pounding in her ears with the steady beat of her heart that threatened to crush her ribs and rupture her skin. But she didn't move, ignoring the silent screams of exhaustion in her taut limbs, instead watching him straighten through hooded brown eyes. He slipped back easily into the position she knew like the back of her hand and her body tightened in anticipation. Her fingers itched for the cool taste of metal, but she resisted the urge to slide her hand into the pouch at her hip. He would make the first move. She knew he would. Sure enough, a flicker of movement caught her line of vision, just barely, but that was enough.
He dashed forward and she jumped, and they met in the clang of sparks and skin against skin.
When she was younger, her mother had told her of the respect one must have for the tools of their trade. She told her, long hair loose and seated on the floor of a darkened room, that as a weapons mistress, kunai and shuriken were more than weaponry. They were a part of her body, and therefore must she must be trained to move with them, not before or after. She had listened, trying hard not to fidget under the watchful gaze and trying harder to understand. Her mother murmured something, slowly getting up, and she had bit her lip and nodded. She knew this meant something and that she had to prove the something for someone. But was that someone her family? The world? Herself? Or him? she had begun to wonder lately.
She could see that she would have to change her strategy; he already knew what she was doing. Cursing softly under her breath, she pulled back from the dying whirlwind and let her hands move, fluid and controlled, and dove into the gray mist that poured around her. She tossed her arm back before disappearing, twisting to watch the projectiles scatter in a gust of dirt and wind and a smirk. She frowned and let the fog take her in.
The smoke had thinned by the time she landed silently onto a branch, wrapping her legs around it securely and letting the green hide her from sight. She held her breath. His eyes missed nothing on the terrain, but neither did hers, and she saw his expression change and eyes shift into the jutsu he had made his own. He was pivoting slowly now, searching for her as his pale eyes flashed with something. Annoyance? Expectation? A smile lifted her lips and something moved her tongue into a wistful whisper she knew he wouldn't hear, but wished he could.
She saw him and he saw her, but it was different because they saw what nobody else did. At least she thought it was "they;" she liked to think that he had realized it too at the beginning, that she wasn't someone to give up.
He himself was closed off and nonchalant when he talked, but his eyes burned with the desire of ambition and his voice had an undertone of secrecy. She had seen both these things and known instantly that he was no ordinary boy. True to her observation, he had grown to surpass almost everyone around him- almost. It reminded her that he was human when she wondered if there was emotion behind the mask of a face. She wondered this when they trained, when they talked, when she realized there was more to him than what appeared. And then she wanted to be the one to be able to lift away the mask to see for herself what was underneath.
She knew his blind spot was near the back of his neck. Creeping slowly down the tree, not daring to make a sound, she flattened herself behind the surrounding foliage where she could see him. He was turning around a second slower than before and although she couldn't see his face clearly, she knew it would be drawn into a scowl. She wanted to laugh out loud, but her efforts would be ruined right then and there. She knew he hated to be left waiting and was growing more impatient by the minute, but this only amused her further and she contented herself to watch him, eyes soft and her heartbeat an unsteady rhythm. His shoulders were tense but his breathing had calmed, albeit his persisting scowl. She quickly reminded herself that the longer she took, the faster he would recover and sat up quietly, ready to spring.
She waited until he was completely turned away from her before leaping to her feet, her hands a wild blur. The sound of her crashing through the undergrowth made him whirl around, and they met with a barrage of metal arsenal and explosives and darting limbs. She leaped back as he blew her artillery away, barely dodging his attacks, and let the adrenaline coursing through her veins guide her perception and speed.
They had grown closer over time, as a team and as friends, although she feverently wished that their bond could deepen into something more. She knew it was too much to ask for at the moment- she had to give him time to develop what lightheartedness he had. He was like a shuriken, she thought. Fast and beautiful, but all sharp edges. So she pocketed her wishes, folding them into little notes, and watched them wither in the flames of her eyes.
She dodged a punch, wincing audibly as another caught her off guard and on her shoulder, quickly followed by several other blows. Her chakra dwindled surprisingly fast as she stumbled, but she quickly regaining her footing. Thrusting her hand into the pouch at her hip, she hurled the final object in his general direction with surprising agility before collapsing onto her knees. She knew she had lost and let him brush his fingers over what would've been a fatal point, her skin tingling, then step back and exhale loudly as he stretched. Gasping for breath, her hands curled into fists and she let the fringe of her bangs hide her eyes. How was she going to prove anything?
And he would say in his low voice that that was enough for the day and she would mutter that she had nearly got him. And then she would glance quickly at his face and see his faint smile when he gestured at his cheek, a small cut outlined in red. And he would murmur that she had put up a good fight but he would still miss her flushed face and gleaming eyes and the words on her lips that wouldn't be uttered.
She was getting there, she was getting closer.
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