Chapter 9: Ashes to the Wind
Shikamaru walked into the Hokage's office, hands jammed resolutely into his trouser pockets. The door was opened for him by one of the Jounin on guard duty; Shikamaru barely spared him a glance before stalking forward, eyes kept warily on the prisoner kneeling before Tsunade's desk.
As usual, the darkened windows kept the midday sunlight from invading the cool, grey room - the barest traces of white gleamed briefly over dusty photos on the wall, illuminating the stoic expressions of the past Hokages of Konoha as they stared down at the traitor below them. Her hair hung loosely upon her shoulders (they had been pedantic in their search for weapons, had found the senbon tucked discreetly beneath her hair ribbons) and the slight curve of her back betrayed her exhaustion even though her face was impeccably blank, her eyes a glassy brown.
"Good afternoon," Shikamaru greeted her quietly, stepping forwards. The two Jounin assigned to her stepped back politely but their hands were by their weapons pouch, ready to attack at any sign of rebellion in the woman between them.
Tenten looked up to see him settle himself in front of her, slouching too carefully to be natural. She caught the tension etched into his face, the stiff set of his shoulders. "How is he?"
"Tsunade-sama and Shizune are still working on him. They have forbidden entry into the operating rooms," he told her, watching the way she immediately bit her lip, suddenly seeming fragile and small, a dirtied porcelain doll; she still looked surprisingly sweet and vulnerable after all these years, what with her wide eyes, the rosy tint of her cheeks.
"I...I see."
Sighing, Shikamaru squatted down before her, hands clamped onto his knees. Tenten blinked at him dully when his gaze roamed over her face searchingly, as if he was trying to make up his mind about her but didn't know quite what to think.
"They didn't hurt you too much?" he asked her softly. She shook her head. The interrogation team had brought her down to their torture chambers, fully equipped and ready to tear information from her about her involvement with Orochimaru – only to find that she was quite willing to tell them all she knew with minimal persuasion. After all, she had no loyalties to stay true to, no secrets to hide; Tenten didn't care if they branded her a traitor or a murderer because she was both, and really, all that mattered to her was currently lying somewhere in a hospital room, dying or living or – fuck it, she didn't even know –
She hadn't realized that she was crying again until Shikamaru suddenly let out a soft hiss of surprise and touched her shoulder gingerly.
"Don't – don't cry," he mumbled awkwardly. The two Shinobi in the room shifted uncomfortably but Shikamaru ignored them, concentrating solely on this half-broken woman before him. Tenten was a traitor, a prisoner of Konoha, but she was also a former comrade and friend. It was a delicate situation he was in, but he could afford to be kind.
"How is Lee?" she asked him thickly, wiping fiercely at her eyes. Shikamaru stiffened, a wooden expression glazing over his features. "Is he still – "
"He's dead,"he told her abruptly, fingers tightening around his knees.
Tenten stared at him, shocked, lips parting in surprise.
"He was killed during an assault mission near Cloud country," he continued heavily. "Ambushed."
"...When?" Tenten asked faintly, a new, devastating grief ripping through her and robbing her of coherent thought.
"Two years ago." Shikamaru rubbed his knuckled over his thigh uncomfortably, gaze flickering from the floor to her stunned expression and back.
Silence. Tenten was too choked up to cry; abruptly she bent over, a hand to her chest, head dipped so low her bangs skimmed over her eyes. She had been away so, so long...
Shikamaru restrained himself from telling her that Lee had died honourably, like a true shinobi, like how he would have liked to go – because it was all pretentious bullshit anyway, and because he knew it was not true. There was nothing glorious in the way Lee had died – his throat slit, restrained by a shinobi of a lesser caliber who could use genjutsu.
Tenten wouldn't care, anyway. Death was death no matter the cause and she had lost too many precious people to believe in any blown up dream of glory and honour.
"And the others?" she managed to whisper, voice cracked and dry.
Shikamaru swallowed. "Ino is doing fine, last time I heard. She's on a reconnaissance mission up North. Sakura's with Sasuke and Naruto. Hinata and the rest of the Hyuuga are staying in Konoha to guard the civilians." He stumbled then, slipping a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with a slightly shaking hand. "Chouji and Shino are in River country. Kiba...Kiba's dead. Killed during a raid."
Tenten closed her eyes, curling deeper into herself. She had convinced herself that all her links with Konoha had been effectively severed when she left, but the slow burning in her blood and the dull ache in her heart told her that she still cared – on some fundamental level, at her very core, she still cared. Konoha was not a home to her anymore but perhaps these people would always be part of who she was.
And now they were dead and possibly dying, scattered across faraway lands like ashes to the wind. She felt sick, bone tired and weary of living when she should have been at the prime of her life.
She had done what she could for Neji. Now there was only one more thing to do before she would allow death to come and claim her. One more, and then she could leave and become nothing, a physical blank upon the face of the earth. She wanted to be just that – nothing, not a dirtied, bloodied body scarred with years of suffering.
"After I am executed," she murmured, so softly Shikamaru had to lean forwards to catch her words: "... ...Burn me."
When Tsunade arrived Shikamaru was gone, having left with a hand pressed gently onto stiff shoulders and a few murmured words of goodbye. He had been sure it would be the last time he would see Tenten, even if she lived.
She froze momentarily at the familiar voice, a mix of simmering rage and repressed longing washing over her and burning at her frayed nerves. Then she uncurled herself from the floor, standing up to face Tsunade as the older woman strode forwards to stand behind her desk. The two guards immediately pressed forwards, unsheathing their katana by their side; Tsunade waved them away grimly.
"Is he –"
"Alive, yes. He has passed the critical stage and will recover quickly," she told Tenten coldly.
"Where?" And suddenly Tenten was hurting again, a fresh wave of pain stinging sharply in the depths of her heart because she had wanted him to live so, so much, and because sometimes relief can hurt. "Where is he?"
"Resting at the hospital. You will not see him."
Tenten said nothing, merely studying this woman before her who had once been her idol before becoming the source of her pain. It had been ten years since she last saw her and she was as beautiful as always.
Suddenly Tsunade turned to the guards and inclined her head briefly, the clipped authority in her voice ringing across the room. "Leave us."
"But Hokage-sama, she-"
"Leave us," she ordered, sending a stern look towards the men. They bowed and exited, closing the door softly behind them. Tenten could sense their chakra patterns slowly fading away down the corridor.
When Tsunade turned back to face her Tenten was still standing completely still, an unreadable expression on her face. A long, drawn out pause, then: "You still blame me for Anko's death, don't you?"
She nodded wordlessly. Tsunade frowned, pursing her lips, but her fingers clenched against the desk and her eyes were stained dark with a weary sadness. "Well, that can't be helped," she sighed, rifling through her papers. "I will not execute you."
"I do not need your mercy," Tenten shot back, surprised.
"It is not mercy," Tsunade replied coolly, the lie slipping easily from her lips. "I'm only doing this for Neji."
Tenten said nothing. This was different from what she had anticipated; she had expected to be condemned to die, had planned to use that to justify a last request.
"You will be escorted out of Konoha back to Isako. From there you may go wherever you wish. Our shinobi will not hurt you unless you infringe upon Konohan territory," Tsunade continued. "If you do come back, you will be captured and killed without question. I suggest you –"
"Fight with me," Tenten suddenly burst out, hands clenched tightly by her side. Tsunade blinked.
"What?"
"Fight with me," Tenten repeated tightly. This was what she had to do, whether she lived or died: to fight with the woman who had killed Anko - one last act of revenge. (She hadn't realized it, but she was still just the girl who believed in honour after all, no matter how hard she had tried to convince herself otherwise). It wouldn't matter if she won or if she was killed by Tsunade – what was important to her was the fact that at least she would be fighting again. Passive resistance had never sat well with Tenten.
Tsunade stared at her incredulously. "You'll never win against me."
"I don't care." Tenten stepped up closer to the desk. Tsunade glared at her darkly.
"No."
"For Anko –"
"Anko is dead."
Silence.
Then Tenten launched herself onto the desk, grasping tightly onto a shocked Tsunade before throwing them both towards the window; the glass shattered and sunlight burst in, drenching the room in a flood of blinding white, and then the two women were falling and falling, their clothes rippling around them, hair blown loose and trailing past their shoulders as they hurtled down, down -
They hit the ground messily, sending earth and concrete flying into the air; a shocked moment of ragged breathing as they found themselves sprawled across the grassy lawn, and then Tenten was up and dragging Tsunade with her – "You owe this to Anko, Tsunade. You owe this to me!" - Tsunade shook herself loose from her grip and flung Tenten away – "You're not gaining anything this way, think about it –" Tenten lunged forwards, resorting to taijutsu without her weapons; she swung a punch at Tsunade desperately but she was too weak, still far too weak from her fight with Neji – she stumbled and was thrown to the ground when Tsunade ripped into her with a chakra infused palm, the blow tearing across her arm to leave an angry red mark scrawled across her skin. Tenten struggled up blindly but Tsunade was already upon her, pinning her to the ground by the wrists.
"Are you out of your mind?" Tsunade asked her roughly. "Forget the past, Tenten! You will never last against me!"
"But Anko –" Tenten struggled in her grasp in vain. "Anko-"
"I loved her too," Tsunade hissed, slamming her back onto the ground. Tenten stared up at her, eyes wide. Tsunade's were suspiciously red, her blonde hair swinging loose against her jaw.
"Hokage-sama!" Tenten could hear hurried footsteps; people were rushing towards them for all sides.
"Stay back!" Tsunade abruptly reared her head up like a lioness, shouting the command angrily to the worried shinobi before they could reach them. She turned back to Tenten, fingers tightening around her wrists. "I loved her too," she repeated fiercely, "But I did what I had to do as Hokage of Konoha, and I will not regret my decision!"
Tenten stared up at her, her mind and heart a tangled mess of hurt and hope and grief - grief for Anko, for Neji, for Lee and her former friends and comrades, for herself and suddenly for this woman before her, this scarred, hurting, beautiful woman –
A wetness on her forehead; she blinked, surprised to see a tear tracing down Tsunade's flushed cheeks. Suddenly the woman looked much older, more weary and haggard. This was too much – Tsunade was too much, these feelings were too much, all she wanted was to run away and forget all this hell she had created, run far, far away –
"Leave Konoha, Tenten," Tsunade said tiredly, abruptly releasing her wrists and sitting up. "Forget all of this and start again somewhere new. You're young enough, unlike me."
"Neji..."
"He will live, I promise you. We will take care of him."
"Why are you sparing me?" Tenten whispered, but she knew the answer anyway. Like Orochimaru, Tsunade was letting her live for Anko's sake. The irony burned in her throat but Tsunade was stretching out a hand towards her, an offer to help her up that was, really, an offer of so much more.
Life goes on, Tenten thought numbly, and reached up.
When he woke his world was white. White walls, white sheets, white bandages.
A crisp white note on his bedside table.
"Neji-nii-san." He turned his head to see Hinata sitting at the edge of his bed, her face a mix of worry and relief. "How are you feeling?"
"Tenten," he murmured. "Where is she?"
"Tsunade-sama spared her," Hinata told him gently. "She left Konoha some time ago."
Thank God. Neji stared up at the ceiling, fingers curling tightly into the sheets. Thank God.
Hinata coughed; he glanced at her enquiringly.
"She left you the note," she told him, gesturing to the small piece of paper. He reached for it, faintly surprised and wary. On it were scrawled four simple words in Tenten's small, messy handwriting.
I'll see you again.
... ...White, his world was white.
As white as the peace that was slowly, softly, creeping back into his heart.