A/N: SilentMidnight2, Guest, whitewind04578, EmeraldNorth, expiration, Sayori Hollyhood, Crazee (looks like everyone's Tenten lol and you're getting your wish!), huemid, fanofthisfiction, Starry Clouds: the lights of my life.

Thanks for sticking with this story even through the godawful jokes.

X THOUGHTS ON THINGS X

1:35 PM, English

Mood: merciful

Observations: 385

Lies Told: 27

"Do you… want to talk about it?" asks Kankuro as though I've got a kunai to his throat. I must have been truly alarming this past hour—cackling uncontrollably at that Watergate joke, then staring blankly into my lap upon thought of Neji and whether or not we'd made adequate amends, then snickering some more upon recalling Shikamaru's face, then frowning when I remember what a mess everything is right now and taking a leaf out of Sasuke's book to return Kankuro purely monosyllabic grunts—for him to actually ask of his own accord. I'm touched. At the rate our relationship is progressing, soon he'll ask me to move in with him.

So he can strangle me in my sleep, obviously. "This is all happening so fast," I coo, encouraging his dormant homicidal proclivities by dramatically fanning myself.

He snorts. "I'm asking because I've got a front row seat to your descent into disgusting madness and I'm really not keen on paying for the ticket."

"Kindly do us both a favor and find a better metaphor."

"Being held accountable for all of," he gestured up and down my front, "this. So I'm generously asking if you want to unload whatever irrelevant dust particles that're currently monopolizing your mental faculties." He grimaces. "You must've heard… Even I've heard stuff. Do you want to talk about it or not?"

"I'll spare you the misery," I say, sensing his palpable relief, and smile wryly.

"… There is a god after all."

1:41 PM, English

Mood: down under

Observations: 386

Lies Told: 27

Reasons Why Junior Year Can Only Be Equated to Hell

6. I'm overwhelmed, but there's no tangible evidence of my struggle. Like, the more I try the less I progress in anything.

1:43 PM, English

Mood: storytelling

Observations: 404

Lies Told: 29

So, what's the "stuff" Kankuro's referring to?

Drama. Pure, inane, agonizing drama that I don't have time for. Drama that's so stupid yet gut-wrenching that my stomach perpetually sinks into the ground every time I see my friends—if that's what we still are—or hear a reminder from people who aren't even remotely involved but apparently are loving the show. It's even worse because it's so stupid that I feel like I should be better than this, but I'm not (better, I mean) if it's affecting me, so I just feel even worse.

It began—came to a head, really—in Homeroom this morning.

The past few days (Monday, Tuesday, and today), I've been trying to get ahold of Sakura during Homeroom, because it's the one class we have together and I need to talk to her. That girl can be downright slippery when she wants to. And while I'm busting my ass trying to get to Sakura and dispel these rumors, Ino's trying equally as hard to get to me for some reason. Maybe she wants to somehow explain herself, too. I couldn't care less. Point is, with Ino hanging in my vicinity, Sakura won't even look my way.

What happened between the three of us is already confusing enough without people opportunistically twisting the situation just because they want to sit back with popcorn and watch us tear each other apart (it's been a while since the Moegi Debacle, and people are antsy for more entertainment). But that's exactly what's happened.

People are actually saying that I nominated myself for vice president to backstab Sakura and eliminate competition. (WHAT COMPETITION? We're not even in the same grade, it's obvious Sasuke's not into me, and if they're talking about competition in terms of this election, I have never expressed interest, as evidenced by my complete embarrassment of a speech! What kind of crackpot conspiracy theory is this?)

Apparently, my backing out of the nomination was "chickening out," which is a copout explanation if I've ever heard one. It's such a stupid theory I didn't even think Sakura would even consider buying into it, but apparently she's insecure enough to fall for it since she's avoiding me.

Meanwhile, my dance teammates (I mean, how do you say drill team teammates? Drill team-mates?) have been publicly taking my side because they've collectively decided (read: Ami decided) to hate Sakura, who "looks down on them" (she does—Sakura makes no secret of her disdain for drill team girls, even makes a face every time one of them speaks up in class) and Ino, naturally, just because she's a cheerleader. It's almost embarrassing how eager they are to jump in and offer their two cents that Ino's always been overrated. I'm pissed at Ino, but even I can see it's the envy talking. A shame, really, because I imagine they'd all get along great. Bond over their pettiness, maybe.

Publicly, at least, I'm one of them because I'm on the team. They have to take my side, which I'm not ungrateful for. It's just a strange situation, having them defend my honor in the hallways but speak less than two sentences a day to me in private. Not their fault, as I'll be the first to admit I'm not the best conversationalist, am painfully awkward around those girls, and haven't even tried to fit in, but I'm intimidated by them. They don't feel that way about me. I mean, I'm just… present.

Kakashi has been MIA again these past three days—Shikamaru asked what'd be a good time to award me a custom-made plaque for getting rid of our homeroom teacher, and I would've happily responded with a hole puncher had Ino not been sitting right next to him trying to make eye contact—which means Giraffe Sub, the substitute with the giraffe neck who said my hairstyle looked like mouse ears, is babysitting us instead.

Yeah, he still exists, apparently.

So when Principal Tsunade called me out again from Homeroom to do her paperwork, as she's been doing all this week, I couldn't decide if I was annoyed to postpone talking to Sakura or relieved to escape this cringe-worthy situation.

After taking my sweet time making my way to Tsunade's office, I swung open her door only to find her with her head cradled in her hands and a suspicious looking thermos—I mean, it's September—sitting on her desk. I cleared my throat.

She glanced up, managing to look supremely unimpressed by my appearance despite her mussed hair and rosy cheeks. "Oh," she said, "it's you again."

Actually, mostly annoyed. Now that I think about it, I was definitely more annoyed. "Principal Tsunade, you called me here."

She smirked. "Did I?"

I seized the opportunity. "Nope," I answered, turning for the door.

"I didn't say you could leave, you brat."

"Well, you let me decide if you called me, and I decided the answer was no. Therefore, I don't have to be here and can go finish my APUSH notes instead of working as your unpaid and not even glorified office aide."

"Have you heard of rhetorical questions?"

"I'm in AP Language & Composition," I said, "so no. Have you heard of ignoring someone's point to not lose an argument?"

"It's too early in the morning to repeatedly bash your head against my desk," groaned Tsunade, rubbing at her temples.

"I'm surprisingly okay with that."

"Glad to hear it," said Tsunade. "Now get to work."

It's like I can't even waste my own time anymore. Someone else's taken that over, too.

1:48 PM, English

Mood: impatient

Observations: 405

Lies Told: 29

The limit of # / infinity: 0.

The limit of infinity / #: infinity.

The limit of my patience for this fourth goddamn lesson in a row about the rhetorical triangle: OBLITERATED.

1:56 PM, A Hallway

Mood: interrogative

Observations: 412

Lies Told: 29

"Kankuro," I say right as the bell rings.

The guy, clearly waging an internal war over whether to pretend he didn't hear me and head out or to satisfy his curiosity, eventually sighs and stays put. "Six."

I roll my eyes. "You're never going to make that a thing. It doesn't stick."

"My time is a commodity," is all he says, pointing to his clunky watch. He's clearly itching to leave the classroom, not inclined to dally a second longer than he needs to. I wonder why he doesn't just skive off this class like he does Bio. Maybe he's got too many make-up hours.

"You didn't nominate me, did you?"

He eyes me with interest. "Now, what would I have to gain from doing that?"

"Just my complete, utter humiliation. Just a guess."

He laughs. "Oh yeah, nice speech."

"… I'm thinking stitches would be a good look on you."

"That was a genuine compliment." At my agape expression, Kankuro rolls his eyes. "I'm not stingy with praise. You just don't often merit it."

I level him with a you're-proving-my-point look, which he easily one-arm-shrugs off.

"Your speech was less insufferable than the other ones, how about that?"

"So… you didn't nominate me?"

"Obviously not," says Kankuro, and I guess I believe him. He doesn't seem like the type to even care to know what StuCo is. "Chill. Skip a day and get some sleep or something. Untangle your underwear. Your level of 'high-strung' is almost reminiscent of Neji's."

I stiffen.

"See you," Kankuro drawls a beat later before disappearing out the door.

I exit the classroom just in time to catch the back of his faded denim jacket vanish out the building's side door, effectively leaving campus. Normally I'd chalk that up to him grabbing lunch off campus if not for the fact that Kankuro just spent English blatantly eating an entire pepperoni pizza. I think he just straight up left.

(He didn't even offer me a single slice, by the way. That just reeks of bad breeding.)

2:01 PM, Everywhere

Mood: Lee Mode

Observations: 424

Lies Told: 29

"Most glorious flower!"

I turn around even though there's no one else that could be. Lee's very inhales are recognizable—when greeting me, across hallways or inches, he always begins with an excessive intake of breath.

"Haven't seen you in a while," I smile. He's bounding toward me, not impaired in the slightest by his… crutches? I immediately enter my mother mode. "Kami, what did you do to yourself this time? Is it your leg again? I told you—"

Lee, whom I realize is moving toward me with his swinging body solely supported by his crutches, stops a mere three centimeters from my face. The heat of his exhaustion rolls off his skin in waves. "Never fear! I have merely updated my hourly training regimen with this new exercise to strengthen my armpit muscles!"

"For when the need arises to poison an opponent to death," I mutter, not allowing my eyes to stray toward his eyesore of a green jumpsuit. No one else in the hall looks remotely fazed by Lee's antics. Everyone knows who he is.

Lee nods, taking my words at face value. "Poison by withholding oxygen! It is a most effective technique!"

"Cruel and unusual," I say, and leave it at that.

"Tenten," Lee says, voice lowered so I can tell he's about to get serious. I quicken my pace. "I have not seen you at the dojo in a very long time. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," I say, determinedly not looking at Neji's locker as we pass by it. "Drill team practice is just as… youthful. Our coach is tough. And I still do target practice—I just don't need to go to the dojo for it, and you know that. I'm not competing like you still are."

"But sparring remains an outlet for your youthful energies!" exclaims Lee. "I know you will feel better once you come tonight! We miss you so much. Nothing is the same!"

"I don't know, Lee." I don't want to.

"Please?" He begs. "I spend every spare second at the dojo and hardly get to see you anymore!"

"Lee…"

He continues with his histrionics. "I do not want your face to vanish from my memories. When you come tonight, you do not have to spar! Simply your presence will do."

The thing about Lee is that you can talk at him for hours upon end and he'll still hear what he chooses to hear. The quality is wonderful in terms of persistence in training but harmful in terms of friendship. I love him and put up with him but I can only take him in doses at a time. Or I need Neji to diffuse his presence.

Sigh.

Lee plows on as though the matter is sealed. "Anyhow," he chirps, pushing open both doors to the courtyard with such force that I swear the glass wobbles, "where will we sit today?"

"What're you talking about? Far right of the courtyard. Where we always sit." I look up at the sky. It's clear. Fair weather today.

He points. I see our friend group mostly in our usual spot, but no one's sitting. From here, it seems like the group is in the initial stages of breaking into two camps like some sort of West Side Story standoff. I make out pink and blond turned away from each other and groan. "What now?"

"Tenten," says Lee morosely, "Ino put herself back in the running against Sakura for vice president. They told us during Homeroom while you were gone."

2:09 PM, Courtyard

Mood: FAILING TO DIFFUSE ANYTHING

Observations: 435

Lies Told: 29

In the end, Ino's not the one to leave. She sits down, head held high and the dare in her eyes, and leaves the decision to us as another power play.

There is almost visible steam coming out of Sakura's ears. "How could you?" It comes out as a strangled scream. "You. Absolute. Snake. I can't believe this! You would go behind my back—"

Ino maintains almost icy composure, as she does when she's furious beyond words. "I didn't go behind anyone's back," she snaps. "I told you I'd vote for you, and I did, but that wasn't enough for you. You wanted a fight. I'm just ensuring it's a fair one."

Sakura's fingers swipe away her tears so forcefully they shoot into Lee's shirt. She spins on her heel and begins to storm away. "Come on, guys," she says, pausing to look over her shoulder expectantly.

Everyone who isn't Ino or Sakura suddenly finds the grass very interesting. "Come on," repeats Sakura emphatically, desperately. "Guys, she doesn't—she's not—she's not even sorry! And you're going to stay with her?"

"Sakura," says Naruto, uncharacteristically quiet. "You and Ino are—"

"Naruto," Sakura pleas, voice cracking.

Lee is by her side in an instant. Sakura starts walking. Naruto purses his lips and follows. "Wait, Sakura," I say, and then I'm with them.

Shikamaru sighs and sits next to Ino. So does Chouji. A couple others who probably don't care enough to move.

The last to move is Hinata. She's frozen, her oddly bright eyes fixed on Naruto, who stands with Sakura.

"Go sit with them, Hina," says Ino. "I won't hold it against you." She speaks so quickly I wonder if it's to preempt Hinata's decision. Like, deep down, she suspects Hinata will side with us and doesn't want to see her suspicions confirmed. I suppose that even in moments like these, Ino can find a way to wrest control over the situation.

"I—" Hinata looks crestfallen. "I don't mean—"

Ino just waves her away, and Hinata tucks her chin to her chest, scurrying after us. I look back moments later, glad that Hinata's come to her senses, and briefly catch a glimpse of Ino in my periphery.

I can't begin to adequately describe the expression, the terrible, crumpled look on Ino's face as we walk away, as she sits, the lone girl in a circle of boys.

2:17 PM, Cafeteria

Mood: mournful

Observations: 438

Lies Told: 29

The only spots available in the cafeteria are at the edge of a long table. Someone at that table—well, probably everyone at that table—knows Naruto and flags us over to sit with them. They probably haven't heard yet, or maybe they're just pretending not to, which I'm grateful for.

With over five hundred kids shouting over each other, the din in here is deafening enough to dwarf my thoughts. I just want to eat Hinata's bento box—come on, she has an extra like always and the line is so long I'll only get halfway by the time lunch ends—in peace and quiet for once. No one else seems inclined to break the silence or talk about what just happened, and I'm glad.

Until Sakura starts ranting, that is. "That bitch," she spits, fists crumbling her spinach wrap to bits. "Where does she get off, forcing all of us to move for her? Everyone caters to her and she always gets what she wants and I'm sick of it!"

There's a beat of silence as no one (well, no one who was there) replies. I start chugging Dasani water so I won't be expected to chime in. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hinata doing the same, albeit much more gracefully.

"Oh, what happened?" One of the girls originally sitting at the table asks. Sakura turns to regale her with the story, scene by scene with analysis and commentary.

I gather up Hinata's and my trash and get up to throw everything away. "Want anything from the vending machines?" I ask her out of the corner of my mouth, forcing a smile to lighten the atmosphere. "If you say no, I have no choice but to buy you dinner again. By force."

"Tenten—"

I hold up a hand. "Hinata, I eat your lunch leftovers every day."

"They are leftovers! You know I don't mind."

"It's the principle of the thing."

Hinata hangs her head, smiling fondly. "No, thank you."

2:19 PM, Cafeteria

Mood: irked

Observations: 450

Lies Told: 29

I'd been hoping to talk to Sakura over lunch today, but she's still talking to that girl, wildly gesticulating about Ino's wrongs while the girl nods sympathetically. I keep trying to catch Sakura's eye, but she seems determined to ice me out forever. She keeps talking to her new friend and doesn't spare me a glance, which I won't pretend isn't slightly hurtful.

I chug more water as though it can drown my thoughts.

I mean, is she not going to at least offer to hear me out? What about my side of the story, does she really think so little of me after years of friendship?

… She really thinks I would do that to her. Go behind her back for some useless sinecure of a position.

"Would you be interested?" asks Hinata.

"Huh? Sorry, what?"

She smiles, not even offended that I haven't been listening to a word she's been saying. "Helping Kiba with basketball tryouts. He said you are proficient at shooting hoops and might be interested in lending him a hand."

We shot a couple hoops together last Wednesday for, like, ten minutes. "Did he want me to demonstrate or something? I mean, he's pretty good at it himself."

"He might want a second opinion," Hinata shrugs. "Don't you have an hour free after drill team practice?"

"Oh, yeah," I nod. No one else besides me would be in school that early with nothing better to do than offer their solicited but unqualified opinions. (Besides homework, of course.) "Sure, why not. I'm down."

"Well, it is nice of you to help." Hinata looks surprised, probably because I've been bailing on so many of our group outings recently. I push the guilt deep, deep down and notice something.

I look to the bottle of water I've been drinking and to the trash can, where I'd thrown away the empty bottle from Shikamaru ten minutes ago. Then to Hinata, whose eyes speak volumes. She'd replaced my water with a new one. "You, too?" I ask. "Why?"

Hinata doesn't answer either question. After that, she either stops secretly supplying me with water or gets subtler about it.

I'm so confused.

3:14 PM, Locker Room

Mood: irked

Observations: 455

Lies Told: 29

So maybe Friday's football game should've been the first thing a normal student would've mentioned in a life update, but I just really can't bring myself to care. Even though it was the first football game I've ever attended, I spent most of it sitting in the epicenter of adolescent spirit and wishing I were somewhere else. (I wasn't too particular on the where, just that it'd be a place that wasn't the very edge of the bleachers upon which I sat, with poms laying on my left and right, forced to cheer on each positive play by our team. In theory, I mean. I didn't actually have to cheer because our team was so bad we had no positive plays. We'd been effectively trounced, 27-0.)

We were there for hours—we arrived two hours early to just stand on the field as decoration and wave poms non-stop, and my arms are still aching from that—and our dance took up two minutes of halftime, tops.

I messed up my pirouettes as expected, but Ami, who was dancing right in front of me, also fell out of her turns and she has one year of seniority on me. I'm perfectly aware that lots of us regularly fall out of doubles even though, the way Baughman yells at me and Ai in the middle, it often seems otherwise.

According to Sakura, Ami couldn't do pirouettes last year, either. The two of them both tried out freshman year, but Ami made it and Sakura didn't. Sakura says Ami wasn't exactly better at dancing than she was—I mean, she couldn't do either split—just more confident (probably too confident, mind you) with her movements and facial expressions. Sakura knows this because the two of them were in the same Drill Team Prep class, and I'm sure she can be objective, even though she hates Ami for making snide comments about her dancing.

Sakura actually almost made the team. She missed the cut by one point and was so devastated she couldn't look anyone in the eye for a week.

It makes me sad to think that she could have been with me, on the same team, right now. That we could've easily cleared up this misunderstanding and could be sitting here together, and I wouldn't have to feel like such an outsider here, so alone.

3:28 PM, Locker Room

Mood: eavesdropping

Observations: 457

Lies Told: 29

Quiet people hear a lot of secrets.

Do these girls think they're being discreet?

… Unless they want me to hear what they're saying, and they expect me to jump in and rectify the rumors. That actually seems plausible.

But if they think I'm going to even bother denying that I am secretly trying to undermine Sakura and Ino because of popularity, they're going to be sorely disappointed. There are few things in life I consider myself too good for, but I know I'm above this, at least.

5:00 PM, who knows

Mood: winded

Observations: 460

Lies Told: 29

"Lee, stop," I gasped, trying to wrench my arm from his vice-like grip while alternately sprinting and skidding a few paces behind him so as to not to go completely airborne. I didn't doubt that he could still manage to run at breakneck speed with me sailing behind him like a flag—Lee's hard work recognizes no laws of physics—but I wasn't keen on demonstrating. "Stop!"

He wasn't listening. I mean, he heard me scream at him to stop, because he replied, but he didn't, you know, stop. "We are nearly at the dojo, Tenten! Are you not excited?"

I pointed my toes into the ground to gain some traction and only managed to stub all ten of them at in one fell swoop. Unbidden tears sprang to my eyes. "Almighty lord above," I all but screamed, "I've never asked for anything before because I sometimes kind of question your existence except right now please smite down my occasional friend Lee with a thunderbolt—oh my—THAT'S A TREE—"

5:20 PM, Dojo

Mood: dead

Observations: 465

Lies Told: 29

When we finally arrived in front of the dojo, me using fingers to comb leaves out of my hair and Lee nursing a bump from my sharp whack across his head, I had half a mind to roll up my sleeve and brandish the bruises he'd most certainly left on my forearm. But then I thought some more about the actual payoff (the fleeting satisfaction of seeing Lee blanch at having hurt me and feel sorry for what he did wouldn't be worth it when he started to become too sorry for what he did and shriek in uncontrollable self-recrimination), so I just let it be.

Not really. I contented myself with a light stomp on his foot. He didn't even feel it.

"We have arrived," sang Lee, admiring the glass double doors, "is it not beautiful? Absence makes the heart grow HUUUUUGE."

"Fonder."

"HUGER."

"Blacker, like in smoking PSAs. Shriveled. Tougher. It fortifies its membrane to never love again."

"What?"

"Oh, surprise, you were listening?"

Lee didn't look abashed in the slightest. "For the important parts, certainly!"

"Look," I sighed. "Lee, you win. You dragged me here. I know you know I'm not in the mood to be, but I'm going to ignore that you ignored that as long as you let us walk in discreetly and quietly. No dramatic entrances. Don't make a big scene, okay?" I softened my tone toward the end, because no matter how brash Lee was being, that had always been his thing, and I felt a little bad for snapping over such good intentions.

"YOSH!" Lee exclaimed. "I will not make a big scene!"

Not sure, Dojo

Mood: exasperated and wary

Observations: 469

Lies Told: 29

Lee made a big scene.

"I AM NOT MAKING A DRAMATIC ENTRANCE," he shouted, flinging open the doors and tugging me inside. "AS PROMISED TO TENTEN, WHO HAS NOT BEEN HERE IN A WEEK. LET US WELCOME HER WITH OPEN ARMS AND LOVE!"

I promptly made a break for the door.

Lee yanked me toward him, beaming like we were all joking around here, and backwards bear-hugged me so that my back was against his chest and my arms were pinioned to my sides. I struggled almost pitifully in his embrace—I have a disproportionately thin upper body, a weakness probably exacerbated by how much I've been neglecting training recently—before lifting a leg, then dropping it, then sagging in his grip. After all, I couldn't kick Lee while he was off guard in fear that I might strike his bad leg, might accidentally cripple him.

"Tenten and I are enthusiastic about training today! Well, Tenten has expressed her desire not to today, but I am sure that if we work our hardest, she will give in! She is a very reasonable girl."

I reconsidered my reluctance to kick him.

Then arms were prying me from Lee's grip. I sucked in a breath as the pressure relented around my midsection and looked up as Neji ushered me away from the first circle of hell and into Studio 2. "I made an executive decision," he said to my raised eyebrows as he shut the door quietly behind him with his hand that was, uh, not curved around my shoulder.

"From the frying pan," I laughed nervously. "And into the arms of His Highness Hyuuga."

"I wouldn't say you were in my arms. That is a bit presumptuous."

"Clearly I must've been fantasizing," I deadpanned, not missing how he didn't object to being addressed as His Highness.

He nodded in faux seriousness, like that was only natural and he could hardly blame me. "I've been told that position is in high demand. I might consider charging extra for my services."

Yeah, by me. My shoulder tensed at the reminder. Ah, the Incident. Great times. "I don't know if I can afford you if you start charging extra."

He shrugged with a shoulder. "You can afford anything if you need it enough."

X

A/N: A chapter of Tenten failing to see the bigger picture. As always, let me know your theories on things so I can confirm/deny/explain/be a tease.