The first time we met, he held such elfin grace, standing among the trees, pale eyes gleaming even in the shadows, much as the moon shines in the darkness. There was nothing I could do as I stood transfixed staring into the dense foliage. He stood so calmly as I watched him. He couldn't have been much older than me at that young age of six. His appearance was so familiar, though I knew he did not live in the village. It was like some dream or a distant memory from a younger age.
It was with a smooth grace, already mastered, that he turned away; hair reaching his shoulders swayed in simple perfection. I remember standing there like a fool for quite some time after he disappeared. Later, I doubted myself, assuming that the noonday heat had made me delirious.
It wasn't for another three years that I came the realization that he was in fact not a hallucination created from my exhaustion as I had originally assumed. It happened, much like the first time. Another day spent alone in my favorite clearing, finding peace from the serenity of the surrounding woods. I had tilted my head just a bit to the right, not because I had heard any sound, but because of a flash of white on the edge of my vision. He had aged, just as I had. His hair reached a few inches past his shoulders now; however the face was just as I remembered it. Pristine pale skin framed by deep rich brown perfect hair. His eyes, the very thing which had appeared in my field of vision, were staring straight at me.
Even at age nine, I knew better than to believe that he was just another illusion created by my weary state of mind, for on this day the sky was cloudy, allowing a reprieve from the heat. I knew at the time that perhaps I should call out and ask to his identity, but the intensity of his gaze froze the thought before my mind even had the chance to process the notion. And just as the last time, with a fluidity I had only ever seen him possess, he melted into the shadows casted by the thick setting of trees. This time, I chose not to linger. I whispered a quiet goodbye, then departed as well.
Three years flew by as I became overwhelmed with school, practice, and friends. To my own shock, I had nearly forgotten the strange mysterious boy. True, some days I would wake up with the image of his face, his opaque eyes, painted on my eyelids, but those images soon faded as all dreams do. He was one dream that I had refused to share with my close group of friends. There were three of them: Hinata, Ino, and Sakura.
Though I may not have indulged them with my story of that boy, I had shown them the clearing. It became our special place. A place to escape from everything. Hinata could escape from her oppressive family and the knowledge that the boy she loved most didn't even know she existed. Ino could escape from the pain of loving a friend, but being stuck bearing the lie of saying she loved another. Sakura could escape the suffering caused by the boy she loved whom constantly turned her down or flat out ignored her. I could escape from life in general, namely, my father who owned a large branch of fighting schools which had many rivals often driven to nefarious tricks.
It had been a day like any other, hanging out around the clearing, chatting about anything and just enjoying each others company. My just-like-any-other-day attitude had vanished when once again, just like in the two previous times, he materialized. It was magical, how he glided to the very edge of the clearing, not once making any sound. I was the only one facing his direction, which caused me to wonder if perhaps he had done that on purpose. I was twelve years old that time. If anything, he had grown to be even more handsome. His hair was longer, pulled back into a low ponytail. His clothes were still hidden by the brush of foliage. All I remember thinking at the time was that this was the third time. The third time he had drifted into my life. I was prepared to stand when he vanished. I had wanted to catch him that time. I was no longer the same little girl who believed that a boy appearing and disappearing was perfectly normal. I would have chased him that time too, if it hadn't been for the fact that three curious faces were turned on me.
It was at that moment when I promised myself that when I was fifteen, I would find out exactly who this mystery boy was. And guess what, today is my fifteenth birthday.
So I knew from the start that I couldn't expect him to show up exactly on my birthday; he never had before. It was at random. When I was six he appeared during the summer. When I was nine he appeared during the fall. When I was twelve he appeared during the winter. It was a possibility that he may come again in the spring. However, if he was as intelligent as his eyes led her to believe, then he would know that by now she has seen the pattern and therefore he would change it to be unexpected.
So it was very unexpected when I threw my kunai at a target, only to find his face next to it, staring right at me just like the prior visits. My kunai hit dead center, just as I had expected. Calmly, trying to match the same grace I had always seen him use, I walked forward. Without breaking our eye contact, I yanked the kunai from the target with the skill I had acquired from three years of intense weapon's training. I stopped at the edge of the clearing, opting not to enter the dense woods that surrounded the area. The boy, much more mature in appearance and perfect as ever, stood less than five feet in front of me.
Not being at all shy like my dear friend Hinata, I decided that it was time to ask the question.
"Who are you?" My voice sounded strange, even to my own ears, as it shattered the silence that loomed over my favorite place, my own little piece of heaven.
We continued to examine each other, him with a cool calculated stare. His piercing gaze made my skin tingle and I fought hard not to shiver. I was not the most patient person in the world, but I found myself not minding the silence which rested over us.
Mere seconds passed before a rich voice which made me weak at the knees was released from his tight lips.
"That is no concern of yours. I will take my leave now." I am sure I must have looked like a gaping fish due to my shock. I had never expected him to outright refuse to give me his name. I felt anger wash over me as once again, I was met with the sight of him back.
Unthinkingly, I grabbed his shoulder, using a strength no ordinary girl could possibly possess to turn him back to face me. I hadn't even realized I had taken a step, much less enough steps to have our chests touching. My anger swiftly left my body at the proximity of our bodies caused my blood to rush to my face and my stomach to do somersaults.
"You will know my name soon enough, Tenten." With those final words he slipped away, leaving me alone. I pondered the meaning of his words, but to no avail.
In the quiet I allowed myself to ask the question I had wanted to know the answer to since I was just a little girl.
"Who are you? Why…why only once every three years do you come to see me?"
My longing to chase him into the forest was interrupted when my name was called.
"Tenten." I turned my head towards the path that led to this place. Hinata stood there, nervously pushing her two fingers together. "Your father sent me. He wishes to watch you spar before the competition tomorrow."
"Of course. Thank you for relaying the message. Good luck tomorrow, just in case I don't see you before the matches begin." She sent me a shy smile.
"Thank you, Tenten. Good luck to you as well. I am glad the four of us are in different divisions. I would hate to be forced to fight with any of you."
I cracked a grin at her. Hinata was a very sweet girl, my best friend, and I knew she couldn't stand the thought of hurting anybody, especially Sakura, Ino, and me. I was also relieved.
"Just be sure not to make any friends with the girls you are set to fight with tomorrow!"
She blushed, embarrassed because she knew I was serious. "Goodbye, Tenten. I will see you tomorrow."
"Bye, Hinata!" I watched as she rounded the corner before sighing in frustration.
Thanks to that idiotic boy, I had forgotten entirely about the competition the four of us were set to fight in tomorrow. I would be in the weapon's division, which means I am allowed to use any weapon that I like. Hinata would be in the Baguazhang Kung Fu division, which is a style of martial arts which emphasizes the use of the open hand over the closed fist (AN: this literally means "Eight Trigram," I was looking up fighting styles and I choked on my drink when I was reading this one! Now I know where the writers came up with the Hyuuga clan's fighting style) Sakura and Ino were both competing in different forms of Kung Fu and Ninjutsu, which wasn't a surprise whatsoever since they both got plenty of practice punching and kicking the guys in their classes. (AU: I went through this ridiculously long list of fighting styles just so I could get a name to put for them, but I am clueless. If anybody wants to send me a message with any ideas for these two, please do. I won't be focusing on them quite as much, but it would be helpful and I would be eternally grateful!)
After a few minutes of gathering my kunai littering the clearing, I hurried home to meet with my father. There was no point in arguing; he always got what he wanted. I glanced thoughtfully down at the jian attached to my hip. It was my finest weapon. I moved my fingers over the cool steel of the hilt before gently gliding it out of the sheath. The cold smooth steel in my hands brought me back to my earlier musings. I spent the rest of my walk home pondering over the mystifying boy who always seemed to come and go as he pleased. It was during these ponderings that I came to an abrupt halt when I recalled that he had called me by my name. I stalked home furiously.
How was it that he knew my name, but I didn't know his?