Quick Note: Slightly better chapter than last...I guess...Revised quickly at, what, 11:40 at night, so it's not GREAT but it's, I guess, readable...
Fisclaimer: no, no, no, no, no...no...
Crack!
She looked intensely at the cup, and the large crack running up the side of it. His eyebrow twitched. She quickly reached in her drawer, pulling out several gambling tickets, and then clips of the newspapers.
Shit!
She had won. Unfortunately, the wins were huge; bit enough to pay off, maybe, half her debts! She clenched her teeth. This was very bad.
"SHIZUNE!"
Shizune came sprinting in at her master's call. Tsunade was pacing frantically around her office, her hand held up to her chin.
"Any report from the Akatsuki Retrieval team?"
Shizune shook her head.
"None, ma'am. They've yet to be heard of."
Shizune was startled as Tsunade crashed her fist down onto her desk, splitting it into two.
"I want an immediate back-up team assembled, now! I want several medic nin, and only the fastest! Make them Jounin, and no less! I want them gone in ten minutes; no later! I also want you to accompany them, and I want you to reach the Akatsuki Retrieval team before sunset, and I want an immediate report!"
"Is something wrong, Tsunade-sama?"
Tsunade looked out her window, starring at the slightly falling sun. Could they really make it in time? Her fingers subconsciously stroked the tickets in her hand, running up and down the numbers as though she could feel them, imprinted on the piece of paper when in truth they were just as flat as everything else of that slip.
"Very..."
Kiba twiddled with his fingers, waiting for Shino to finish his small portioned meal. When Shino finally finished, he stood up, and walked forward calmly. Kiba nearly jumped up and tripped, but caught his balance at the last moment.
"Kiba…"
"Hm?"
Kiba answered quickly; almost too quickly. He was jumpy and nervous, and it showed.
"Calm down."
At these words, Kiba felt his heart immediately drop into slow, steady beat. He took a deep inhale and let out an exhale to match, then looked up at Shino, nodding to signal he was ready. Shino gave him one last skeptic look, and then turned to begin forward once more. Kiba took one step, only to feel the nerves flood back. He quickly inhaled and exhaled once more, repeating the process until he was once more calm, then cleared his mind. He turned to Akamaru, who sat lazily on the ground.
"Up, boy."
"When will we meet Hinata-san?"
The nerves, along with a hole in his stomach, formed once more and Kiba froze at Akamaru's words. Akamaru never did quite understand Hinata's leave, and Kiba never had the heart to tell in full detail what exactly had gone down. Shino felt that something was wrong, and turned back at his partner. By the look of horror and discomfort, Shino knew exactly what had startled Kiba' Akamaru had finally asked. Kiba had often confronted Shino on the matter, and Shino knew that Kiba never had the heart to break it to his loyal companion. Shino, unable to waste time, quickly broke the moment.
"Kiba, Akamaru; we need to hurry, and now."
Akamaru seemingly shrugged and rose, following Shino. Kiba wanted to give Shino a 'thanks' thumbs up, but had no energy to do so. He merely followed slowly behind the two, holding in his thoughts. He fidgeted as they began to sprint once more across the trees. Kiba then looked down, sighing inwardly,
and answered his loyal friend, though he'd never get a chance to hear it.
Soon, I hope…
"Kankuro, we're approaching them."
Kankuro just nodded as he and Shikamaru continued skipping from tree to tree. Thoughts were overcoming him, and he tried to shake them away, but was unsuccessful.
"Kankuro, you dumbass! That's not how you do it!"
"Kankuro, help Gaara!"
"Kankuro, are you ready?"
His sister's voice kept floating into his mind, saying a thousand things at once until they all blended into one phrase being said by a million of the same voices; "Kankuro, come on! We've got to hurry, Kankuro!"
Yeah, we do.
"Kankuro, we're here!"
Kankuro looked up. A large clearing was right ahead. There was no dramatic entrance for their Akatsuki opponent; she stood in the middle of the field, hands on her hip, and a smirk curling on her face.
"Took you long enough, I suppose, eh, crybaby?"
Kankuro didn't feel sad or angry or even excited; he felt nothing. A cold emotionless state overtook him, and he felt as though death's cold fingers were now wrapped around his neck, cutting off air.
"Oh, brother, I hadn't seen you there!"
Her voice had that ring of sarcasms to it, but Kankuro couldn't focus. His eyes were blurring, and his head felt like it was being drilled into the ground. He just stood still with horror.
Shikamaru, whoever, already had two kunai pulled out. This was a mission, and he wasn't willing to fail.
The Akatsuki raised an eyebrow at this. Her blonde pony-tails hadn't changed from the last time they'd met. Her fan was black with red clouds now, but none the less it was that same iron fan that always followed her wherever she had gone. Her outfit, bearing the same pattern as her fan, still resembled that strange style of hers. It was still the same Temari, just coated in a new darkness which blocked the true her from shining.
Kankuro closed his eyes.
"Kankuro, come on! We've got to hurry, Kankuro!"
Kankuro sighed, pulled out his two scrolls, for one was still in repairs from an earlier mission, and unrolled them.
"Crow! Black Ant!"
The two puppets appeared, chattering as they did so. Temari smiled.
"So, my dear brother decided to take out his puppets this early? Hm, you realize dear brother, that I know those puppets almost as well as you. I know their weaknesses, their strengths, and even how you manipulate them to a degree. You're technique is practically useless against me."
Kankuro closed his eyes in concentration.
That may be so, Temari, but...
He moved his left pointer finger, and then his right pinky, followed by the right thumb. His quick movements, blindly guided, were swift as both his puppets came forward towards Temari. She leapt back, slightly startled at his lack of sight yet still ability to come even near her.
...People don't stay unchanged in a year.
His eyes opened, brimming with the fire of battle and fury. He was now moving four, five, six fingers at once, twisting the puppets through the air. Shikamaru stood back, examining the situation and thinking of the best time to attack.
Temari leapt back onto her fan, flying upwards and scanning the ground, dodging the flying puppets. She scrunched her face up, thinking hard.
The seal is lifted. If I wanted, I could...but, that's such a waist...then again, Sakura did warn us not to take any of them lightly, so...I suppose I'll use that...or maybe...
Temari snickered, and Kankuro's nose wrinkled in disgust at the wicked sound.
"Brother, you know what I find is true art?"
Kankuro felt memories flood through him; the last time he'd ever heard words spoken like this, about art, were from those Akatsuki, those damned Akatsuki, who had captured Gaara. The same Akatsuki who had then captured Temari. Was everyone around him to be just captured and killed before his eyes? Was he to forever stand still, watching those around him despair, being ignored? Was he to forever watch those he cared about, those he loved, be swept before his eyes into darkness? He clenched his fists. No. He wouldn't watch another one he loved be swept away into the darkness that is death. No one would go down that road if he had a say in it.
"I find art a perfect movement; something that hits every note, every step, perfectly. I enjoy the beginning, the middle, and the end. It is neither quick nor long; perfect length for beauty that would be ruined if it went any further or was any shorter; it must be perfect. Like...dance."
Shikamaru raised an eyebrow.
"Dance?"
"Yes. The chemistry and vibe given off by two partners as they dance to heart's content, soaring with movements as graceful as the wind. That is art. Something that must be taken in for every second of its short life. A dance is art at its truest."
Temari's eyes widened as a shadowy figure appeared from behind her; 'Crow'.
"I disagree, Temari. I think art is something carved perfectly, with proportions to match the real thing; something that moves fluently and lasts as long as the creator intends it to, or until it serves no more purpose. I think...puppets are a perfect form of art."
Crow soared down, needles pointed out, as Temari flew instantly out of the way.
"Shoe, we'll play this game, shall we? Dear brother, had I known you were so left footed! I'm sure I can still manage some beauty out of you, however. But,"
Temari turned to Shikamaru, who was preparing for his own jutsu.
"Dancers dance in two, not three. You'll have to wait your turn. Don't worry; I never keep old friends waiting for too long!"
Wind surrounded Shikamaru, taking the breath from him. A cyclone now held him down on his knees; he couldn't move, barely even breath. What's this? She didn't even wave her fan, or perform a jutsu! It just automatically came; like Gaara's sand shield! How can she do this? What amount of chakra does she possess to perform such a high level defense?
He began to cough; he needed more air. His eyes filled with water at the pressure; he tried to look up. Temari was blasting wave after wave of wind at Kankuro, who wasn't fairing very well at all. Each hit she made took more and more breath out of him. Damn...
The Ballerina settled her cold gaze on her lone partner; the puppet.