A/N: Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Concession
Tenten meets her fiancé a few days after she learns of her betrothal. On the day of their meeting, her mother keeps a watchful eye on her all morning, strictly prohibiting her from approaching the smithy. But amid the whirlwind of servants and the general chaos of a household preparing for guests, Tenten manages to slip out unnoticed. She watches the Hyuga party approach from between the shrubbery that lines the back path to their home, her yellow kimono already soiled from the ash of the smithy, and feels dread seize her full force.
As angry as she is, she cannot deny her fiancé's beauty. He is tall and lean and broad shouldered, with dark, silky locks that distinctly contrast with his pale skin and even paler eyes. She can tell he is an aristocrat from his cheekbones alone, as well as the delicate slope of his nose and strong jawline. But he is haughty; that much is clear to her from the way he speaks to his guards, and even the manner in which he regards his uncle. The possibility that she will not be exempt from such treatment stokes a fire in her veins that is hot enough to forge a dagger.
She returns to the smithy with renewed intent of ruining her kimono and soiling her appearance as much as possible before her mother finds her. She is surprised then, when it is not her mother who comes for her, but her fiancé himself. He pauses at the doorway, much like his uncle, and watches her curiously.
"I am looking for a woman named Tenten," he informs her, his eyes sweeping over her and then the rest of the room. Tenten makes a point of staring at the blade in her hands rather than facing him.
"It seems you have found her," she replies, satisfied when she hears the slight catch in his breathing. But to her disappointment, he quickly recovers and smirks as he leans against the doorframe.
"So I have," he counters smoothly. Tenten tries her best to return her focus to her work, but finds that her fiancé has a very commanding presence. She sneaks a glance at him, and her eyes widen when she notices the sword at his hip. He follows the path of her gaze, and with a look of amusement, unsheathes the sword and offers it to her.
"It is your father's work," he tells her, his eyes trailing her fingers as she runs her hand along the blade.
"No," she corrects him after a moment of examination. She settles into a fighting stance, and wields the sword easily though its length is proportionate to her fiancé's height instead of her own.
"It is mine."
She smirks confidently when his posture straightens in surprise, the arrogance in his face quickly molding into growing curiosity and the beginnings of admiration. But before he can comment, her mother comes stomping down the path from their home. She is absolutely livid as she assesses Tenten's disheveled state and her lip curls in disgust at the sword in her hands.
Her mother turns to her fiancé and bows, apologizing profusely, but her fiancé pays her no mind. His eyes have not left Tenten, and after a moment, he dismisses her mother altogether. "We will be along shortly," he assures her, leaving his spot at the door to approach Tenten. Her mother's eyes dart suspiciously between them, but she leaves after giving Tenten a stern glance. Her fiancé waits to speak until her mother's footsteps are out of earshot.
"I have always believed that marriage is a nuisance," he admits quietly, "Even more so when two individuals are forced into a union for the benefit of others." He reaches to touch her, gingerly lifting her chin to meet his gaze. At such close proximity, his eyes remind Tenten of the moon, and she immediately thinks of her heart line and the crescent it cuts across her palms. This is the fate she has failed to avoid, and she gathers the last vestiges of her frustration to glare defiantly, but her fiancé is not dissuaded. He drops his hand after a moment, his expression serious.
"But perhaps," he pauses, searching her face to gauge her reaction, "it will not be such a bad fate." He does not smile, but his tone is sincere. Tenten is taken aback. How could he, of such noble blood, find a woman like her at all suitable to be his bride? Especially after all he has seen today? Her soiled kimono suddenly weighs heavily on her body. She has misjudged him.
And now he is making a concession, Tenten realizes, and she feels her own anger slowly subside, leaving behind only a grim acknowledgement of their shared reality. There is no point in being angry with him, she accepts begrudgingly, and he seems sensible enough underneath his ego.
Tenten feels something in her begin to shift. For a moment she thinks to tell him of the fortune teller and her own vow to never marry, but then decides that she will reveal these things in time. They stand in comfortable silence, until her fiancé warns that her mother will probably drag them both by the ear if they do not return soon, and Tenten is surprised at how easily she smiles for him. He takes the sword from her and places it back in its sheath. As he brushes ash from his clothes, Tenten considers him thoughtfully, and realizes that she does not even know his name.
"Neji," he tells her as he winds his arm through hers and leads her up the path to her home.
She tries his name on her tongue after the Hyuga's have left, and finds it does not taste as bitter as she had thought it would.
A/N: Thank you for reading and please review!
~M.I.
