A/N: No I have not given up on this story! I will update when I can.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.


Mourning

Tenten awakens in the early hours of the morning to the soft pitter-patter of rain. She shifts onto her side and draws back the curtains. In the pre-dawn darkness, the outline of the smithy is concealed against the pitch-black form of the forest. Smoke curls languidly above the treetops from the village in the distance. Frowning, she closes the curtains and lies down on her back, pulling her blankets above her head as anxiety settles like a heavy stone on her chest.

Tomorrow she will be wed.

She cannot help her cynicism when she notes that at least fate has given her the perfect weather for a day of grieving- one last day to dream of the futures she could have had, futures that have been thwarted by the injustices of war and patriarchy. She slowly exhales, trying to abate the anger that ignites in her veins whenever she thinks of the absolute unfairness of her predicament.

When she can no longer stave off her growing feelings of restlessness, she rises from the bed and pulls on her robe. With practiced ease, she quietly opens the back door and slips out into the rain.

The smithy is cold and dark, and she does not have the energy to work, but she instantly feels more at peace among the soot and metal than in the warmth of her bed. This is where she belongs; Neji's words echo in her mind as she curls into the chair he had occupied the last time he had visited her. What had his family done to anger him? She is too tired and anxious to think.

Tomorrow she can worry about Neji, she decides, but today she needs to worry about herself. A strange feeling of guilt perturbs her. She feels as if she has failed herself, despite knowing that the circumstances of her marriage were beyond her control. At least Neji will not be a terrible husband, she tries to comfort herself, but even this does little to quell the resentment she feels towards his clan.

She thinks of Hiashi Hyuga and the predatory manner in which he must have persuaded her father to agree to this arrangement. She realizes that even her father, upon whom she had initially placed the blame, probably had, in actuality, little choice himself in the matter. They have both been cheated, and the thought fills her with so much rage she does not bother to wipe away the hot, angry tears that trail down her cheeks in quick succession.

With sudden energy, she springs from her seat and lights the forge. She will not allow herself to be reduced to a blubbering mess by the likes of Hiashi Hyuga. She is not soft like her father. She works quickly, urged on by her temper. When the metal is hot and ready to be molded, her tools are a heavy, comforting weight in her hands as she raises them to strike what she imagines is Hiashi Hyuga's head on the table.

She works and works until her clothes are covered in enough soot that they are as black as funeral robes.

Tomorrow she will be wed, but today, she asserts, in that stubborn way her mother hates, she will mourn in the only way she sees fit.


A/N: Thank you for reading and please review!
~M.I.