Temari found herself analyzing the face in the mirror for the third
time that morning. The night before she had arranged with her father, the
kazekage, for passage to konoha village. She had explained the need to
settle the score with the boy who had up—staged her. Her father had agreed
without question as she knew she would, and word spread throughout the
proper channels. She couldn't help but feel guilty for lying to her father.
He was the only man that she did feel guilt after lying to. But was she
lying? She WAS going jut so fight him? Or was it because she just wanted to
see that mysterious boy-no. She didn't like that line of reasoning. Not one
bit.
'You're NOT lying to him! You are trying to prove a point by fighting.' She heard a small voice chide. Temari was quite fond of her confidence. It always helped her with everything from initiative to rationalising her lies away.
Hang on.
'Lies? What the hell?' she thought, 'Oh no...' another little voice crept into her minds eye. 'You know lies. Things you say that aren't true.' Her paranoia feigned a look of puzzlement on its little face. It was the spitting image of Temari's confidence, more so, Temari herself. All of which except her hair, which was waist long, and jet black. It wore a long, thick robe of purple, adorned with dripping black embroidery. With its dark, sunken eyes and pale skin, one who didn't know any better could have easily mistaken it for the embodiment of misery itself. She was a strong contrast to Temari's confidence. Another image of Temari, yet tanned to a bronze with Hawaiian print bikini and unbuttoned shirt, along with extended sarong.
Paranoia's brow furrowed in distaste when it saw confidence. 'Oh,' it said in a slow, sarcastic drawl, 'YOURE here.' Confidence's face was immediately wiped of all emotion. 'I suppose you have come to provide false hope for this emoting, convoluted, sod of a human.' Paranoia continued, 'I surmised as much. How WEAK of both of you.'
'And I suppose you still haven't learnt to speak English.' Confidence observed, unfazed. 'I speak the queen's English, not that bastardization you spout' Paranoia retorted, 'you sound like a bad 80's game show host. Both you and Temari are hopeless.'
'Don't listen to that bitch; she's trying too bring you down.' Said confidence. 'She's the one you should be ignoring! You already know her sweet lies and empty promises!'
Temari had quickly grown tired of this. Ever since the chuun finals, the two had been arguing three times as much as they usually did. The last time they had fought, the exchanges of fire and lightning were so bad that she almost fainted from headache. She didn't mind confidence's encouragement, but like anything else in the world, it had a downside. Because of paranoia, the two did as much good as they did badly. 'Im tired of this.' Temari told them, mentally, 'Im not listening to either of you until you kiss and make up!'
'What?' they both replied in unison. 'Never!' Added paranoia. However both of them knew that they were figments of HER imagination in HER head and in the end were under HER control, despite their defiance.
"DO IT" Temari barked as she tool control, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge of her dresser-vanity. Confidence hit paranoia with a flying tackle that sent them both rolling. When they stopped, Confidence was on top, straddling Paranoia's hips. Exchanging looks of horror, Confidence involuntarily double-fisted Paranoia's robes and jerked it up for a fierce kiss. As their lips crashed together and their tongues entwined, both knew Temari was enjoying it, drawing great pleasure from their suffering as they bent to her cruel will.
After she was satisfied, Temari let them go and watched them scurry away into her subconscious.
"Temari? Are you okay?" came a muffled voice from outside her door and down the hall.
Gaara waited for his sister's reply. Her brother had been with her when she talked the kazekage into letting her go to Konoha. He had come back with news of his mission, and had explicitly warned him to watch over Temari. He had not explained why. Gaara simply said he would see what he could do.
'I wonder what he's worried about. But it is strange that she is yelling to herself...' Gaara thought as he brought his knife down to the wood once again. He missed his target. However, instead of exploding in a fit of rage, he stayed calm and brought the knife up for another go. Of all the things in the world, this was one of the few that ever gave him any pleasure. A lot of the time, even more gratifying than killing. He had inadvertently discovered his talent for the art by necessity. He underestimated the distance back to the village on the way back form a mission and was forced to learn. However nobody could know about his hidden hobby. The other shinobi of his team knew, and that was too much. So instead of using the facilities at his house, he simply had his own facilities installed in the room next to his.
Finally finishing the task at hand while savoring the guilty pleasure, he finally moved to wipe his filthy hands when Temari opened the door.
Gaara froze, and his cheeks turned a light shade of puce. Temari looked nonplussed. "What?"It's not like I haven't walked in on you before." She remarked. "I know" Gaara replied. "Im leaving for konoha" she stated simply before she closed the door. Gaara simply stood there for another few seconds. It wasn't the first time he had been walked in on while performing his "hobby", but every time it still made his swell with embarrassment. He quickly purged the feeling from his minds and concentrated on his job again. He wiped his hands on his white apron, for it was the only thing he could wipe it on, other than that he was wearing nothing but his plaid boxers.
He picked up the knife and wood and moved to the hot range. There he tipped the cutting board and scraped the diced onions into the waiting pot of bubbling beef gumbo. The spicy fumes made him giddy with anticipation. And now to find the cayenne peppers...
'You're NOT lying to him! You are trying to prove a point by fighting.' She heard a small voice chide. Temari was quite fond of her confidence. It always helped her with everything from initiative to rationalising her lies away.
Hang on.
'Lies? What the hell?' she thought, 'Oh no...' another little voice crept into her minds eye. 'You know lies. Things you say that aren't true.' Her paranoia feigned a look of puzzlement on its little face. It was the spitting image of Temari's confidence, more so, Temari herself. All of which except her hair, which was waist long, and jet black. It wore a long, thick robe of purple, adorned with dripping black embroidery. With its dark, sunken eyes and pale skin, one who didn't know any better could have easily mistaken it for the embodiment of misery itself. She was a strong contrast to Temari's confidence. Another image of Temari, yet tanned to a bronze with Hawaiian print bikini and unbuttoned shirt, along with extended sarong.
Paranoia's brow furrowed in distaste when it saw confidence. 'Oh,' it said in a slow, sarcastic drawl, 'YOURE here.' Confidence's face was immediately wiped of all emotion. 'I suppose you have come to provide false hope for this emoting, convoluted, sod of a human.' Paranoia continued, 'I surmised as much. How WEAK of both of you.'
'And I suppose you still haven't learnt to speak English.' Confidence observed, unfazed. 'I speak the queen's English, not that bastardization you spout' Paranoia retorted, 'you sound like a bad 80's game show host. Both you and Temari are hopeless.'
'Don't listen to that bitch; she's trying too bring you down.' Said confidence. 'She's the one you should be ignoring! You already know her sweet lies and empty promises!'
Temari had quickly grown tired of this. Ever since the chuun finals, the two had been arguing three times as much as they usually did. The last time they had fought, the exchanges of fire and lightning were so bad that she almost fainted from headache. She didn't mind confidence's encouragement, but like anything else in the world, it had a downside. Because of paranoia, the two did as much good as they did badly. 'Im tired of this.' Temari told them, mentally, 'Im not listening to either of you until you kiss and make up!'
'What?' they both replied in unison. 'Never!' Added paranoia. However both of them knew that they were figments of HER imagination in HER head and in the end were under HER control, despite their defiance.
"DO IT" Temari barked as she tool control, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge of her dresser-vanity. Confidence hit paranoia with a flying tackle that sent them both rolling. When they stopped, Confidence was on top, straddling Paranoia's hips. Exchanging looks of horror, Confidence involuntarily double-fisted Paranoia's robes and jerked it up for a fierce kiss. As their lips crashed together and their tongues entwined, both knew Temari was enjoying it, drawing great pleasure from their suffering as they bent to her cruel will.
After she was satisfied, Temari let them go and watched them scurry away into her subconscious.
"Temari? Are you okay?" came a muffled voice from outside her door and down the hall.
Gaara waited for his sister's reply. Her brother had been with her when she talked the kazekage into letting her go to Konoha. He had come back with news of his mission, and had explicitly warned him to watch over Temari. He had not explained why. Gaara simply said he would see what he could do.
'I wonder what he's worried about. But it is strange that she is yelling to herself...' Gaara thought as he brought his knife down to the wood once again. He missed his target. However, instead of exploding in a fit of rage, he stayed calm and brought the knife up for another go. Of all the things in the world, this was one of the few that ever gave him any pleasure. A lot of the time, even more gratifying than killing. He had inadvertently discovered his talent for the art by necessity. He underestimated the distance back to the village on the way back form a mission and was forced to learn. However nobody could know about his hidden hobby. The other shinobi of his team knew, and that was too much. So instead of using the facilities at his house, he simply had his own facilities installed in the room next to his.
Finally finishing the task at hand while savoring the guilty pleasure, he finally moved to wipe his filthy hands when Temari opened the door.
Gaara froze, and his cheeks turned a light shade of puce. Temari looked nonplussed. "What?"It's not like I haven't walked in on you before." She remarked. "I know" Gaara replied. "Im leaving for konoha" she stated simply before she closed the door. Gaara simply stood there for another few seconds. It wasn't the first time he had been walked in on while performing his "hobby", but every time it still made his swell with embarrassment. He quickly purged the feeling from his minds and concentrated on his job again. He wiped his hands on his white apron, for it was the only thing he could wipe it on, other than that he was wearing nothing but his plaid boxers.
He picked up the knife and wood and moved to the hot range. There he tipped the cutting board and scraped the diced onions into the waiting pot of bubbling beef gumbo. The spicy fumes made him giddy with anticipation. And now to find the cayenne peppers...