Disclaimer: Naruto (c) Kishimoto Masashi.
A/N: Third time's the charm they say. Seems to make sense considering it was only this third try at writing for this pairing that worked for me despite it being a rather pointless one shot. (grumbles about missing plot bunnies)
Anyway, I rather like writing for special occasions so this is for Valentine's Day too (other than my inner pairing fangirl screaming for me to write something). Thus, no matter if you're single or in a relationship, love is eternally universal. Could be a good opportunity to also tell your parents, your siblings, your friends, your pets and anyone that means a lot to you that you love 'em, eh?
Well, that's enough of my babbling! Without further ado, I present this story and I wish you lot a Happy Valentine's Day 2006!
Speaking Their Language
by YunCyn
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He has always thought she looks best when she's in motion.
There is no flowing raven hair here, no waterfall of dark locks that dance with the short drafts her movements cause. Instead, only her fringe, once cut just enough to look sensible without getting in the way, now grown long and framing her face as if to protect it, whip around her head like ribbons. Her hair is still tied into practical buns on her head. Even after so long, her hair remains almost the same.
But the person herself has changed a lot.
The girl who has been a teammate, a comrade and a close friend has grown into a woman. The lines and curves of her actions, once straightforward and short, have elongated into sleek, smooth motions. Her form has improved, her stealth increased and her skills honed to the point of accuracy personified. She is the village's only weapons specialist, Konoha's Kinzokuryuu, their Metal Dragon.
In her hands, even a toothpick is deadly. To her, anything can be turned into something to protect Konoha and the people who are as much a part of her as her own breath. He has seen her take down men three times her size with a simple stick she'd grabbed from the ground nearby. And when even that weapon has been exhausted, she uses her hands, her feet and even her hitai-ate to defeat the threatening enemy-nin.
She knows she herself is a weapon. She is a kunoichi as well as a jounin, one who has been trained in the manipulation of the eye just by being who she is – a woman. He has felt his heart skip too many beats at every chance she takes with every change she makes. She is not known as the beauty of Konohagakure. But should the situation call for it, she will emerge as the seductive courtesan, the perfect geisha, a simple, meek serving girl with hidden intentions… all of whom have hidden weapons up each arm, strapped to their waists and each leg.
Even her eyes can be disguised. They can be dull, meek and retiring. They can smoulder with a tempting glint, the downfall of several unfortunate targets. They can even deceive someone into believing she's a simple village girl, with nothing but marriage and farm chores to occupy her mind.
But he has seen her true eyes.
They are bright and confident but they don't give away too much at first glance. A particular gleam emerges when she is happy and when she laughs, they light up tremendously, showing him the familiar shade of brown that he has known for almost all his life. They have the calm and collected sheen of someone who assess situations first without panicking.
Right now, they are focused, concentrating on what she does as she jumps from tree to tree, throwing kunai and shuriken at appointed targets. Her katana comes down in perfect succession after she jumps down, the blade trying to weave out an opening for her to strike. Her hundred percent accuracy rate has not gone down and while it isn't mathematically possible to go beyond a hundred, he believes that she may have just done the impossible.
He closes one white eye, remembering that he is supposed to be meditating while she trains on her own for a while. They've just come back from a mission and the days are, for just a short while, peaceful. Lee, who hasn't seen Gai-sensei for a week, is probably off somewhere training with their old teacher. Even after eleven years, Gai-sensei is still Lee's mentor, idol and father figure. And as grudgingly as this comes, he too has a level of respect for his teacher that is about the same as the one he holds for his own father.
He hears her come to a stop and she pauses to catch her breath, calming her racing heartbeat and slowing down the adrenaline in her veins. Quietly, she walks around to retrieve her weapons. In his mind's eye, he can see a quietly satisfied smile on her face to see all of her targets struck with at least two weapons right where she wants them.
Finally, after some time, she sits beside him on the grass and starts to methodically clean her weapons. She doesn't notice that she's holding his contemplative attention.
Somehow, she reminds him of the bamboo.
In the fiercest of winds, they are able to bend and give way without breaking into pieces. After the gales and rain have faded, they stand unhurt and unperturbed, as if there hadn't been a storm at all. They are steady and strong, hardy plants, able to thrive and adapt to harsh conditions.
Finally, she catches his gaze from the corner of her eye and tilts her head inquiringly at him, a smile quirked on her lips. It's as good as a spoken question.
It amazes him now that he thinks about it, how much she says without a word. He can tell what she's feeling or how she's doing just by looking at her. He knows that she's always been expressive with the people she's comfortable with. It gives him a sense of satisfaction to notice that she's that way when he's around. She is one of few people who aren't tense or expectant of something when he's in close range. She's seen far too many things with and about him to be that way.
And it amazes him that she can read him as equally easily too. Without the Byakugan, without genjutsu, without any form of jutsu in fact, she knows what he thinks and feels at a particular moment. And if she doesn't, she won't push him for an explanation… even if she can get too close for comfort to the truth sometimes. She knows when she can and cannot help in times of trouble but she worries through it all anyway, even if she tries to hide it from him. She protects him that way... like a bamboo forest is supposed to protect a Shinto shrine from evil.
He wonders if she can read what's being said in his eyes right about now. Their colour is often an effective mask of his emotions, being so blank and pale.
Nevertheless, he tries, knowing he won't be able to tell it in obvious, blatant words. It will take some time to reach that point because he's the bird just finding his wings outside of his gilded cage. He needs time to get used to his freedom. She is the woman still reaching for her ambitions, still stretching (but quickly approaching success) for her dreams to be as strong as the Godaime. Not to mention, their individual lives are just beginning to reach their peak. Both are busy with their respective duties as shinobi and kunoichi of Konoha.
But perhaps in a quiet grove, just after training, he can promise her something small. In a few years perhaps, when a little more of his feelings will be able to show through, he will be able to say it. But for now, he hopes she will understand his silent words.
She's startled for a moment as she registers what the expression on his face means.
Gradually, her smile grows wider. Combined with the tinge of red that has bloomed across her cheeks, he can't help but let a half smile take over his lips. He looks away after one more moment of watching her blush, closing his eyes and exhaling in relief, not knowing he's been holding in his breath all this while.
Then, just as his ears catch the sound of Lee and Gai-sensei's exuberant jogging going past, he feels a light pressure on his cheek. In a flash, he turns and meets her pleased, bright eyes. Although she's sitting much closer to him now than she was a minute ago, she draws away a little and continues to clean a shuriken, a very wide smile still on her face.
He blinks before smirking slowly. As always, she knows him well enough to speak his language.
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It might take me a while to learn how to soar, to learn how to sing. But I'll get there in the end.
I know you will. So take your time, little sparrow… I'll be waiting for you.
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End.
A/NII: I asked myself the same question some of you might be thinking right now: is it really possible for two people to know each other so well until they can speak without words? Kinda like that famous Ronan Keating song that some folks joke is a polite, subtle way of asking someone to keep quiet?
I have to say I think so. You can't have an entire conversation just consisting of sappy, lovesick expressions of course. But I like to believe some things are capable of being expressed without a single syllable. It could just be the romantic old fool in me but ah well. Hope you have a lovely day and thank you for reading!