A/N: Finally, the last chapter. I've been putting this off for months, literally. I started in December, I think, and it's March now…

I haven't been able to log in since Thursday I think. BTW, I think I'm going to move chapter one to chapter 6, since it seems to stand alone and stuff. I also don't want ppl to get the impression that this story is about that kinda stuff.

Seven Deadly Sins

Chapter 7: Pride

-0-

Pride: superbia; A desire to be important or attractive to others or excessive love of self.

-0-

Muscles bulged. Sweat beaded. Eyes squinted.

SLAM!

Temari finally shoved the shinobi's arm into the table. Cheers erupted around her from the chuunin and jounin who were all on lunch break from guard duty. The chuunin she had been arm wrestling against cradled his arm against him in the most macho way he could and she smirked.

'I am better than you.'

"NEXT!"

An even larger man came up, his arm almost as big as her head (pig tails not included), and he sat in the seat once occupied by the now shamed chuunin.

"I'll beat you no problem, Waru-san!"

The man gave a bark of laughter, "You try that, Temari-san! No need to be cocky!"

Three

Two

One

Each arm pushed at the other, though because Waru's arm was longer, he automatically could put more force behind it. In the excruciating three minutes they held their position, Temari let her mind wander. Big mistake.

Her usual partner was Kankurou, but Karasu was broken and he needed to repair it.

"Stupid Kankurou with his stupid dolls! Jeez, what a sissy…"

Miles away, Kankurou sneezed.

Takeshi, her partner for the mission, snorted, "Yeah, and fighting with an oversized fan is so much better, right? Be sure to come and play dress up with me this weekend!"

Temari smacked him on the head, "Hey hey! No need to mock me! Besides, this is a metal fan! And at least I don't wear make up everywhere…"

Miles away, Kankurou sneezed again.

After a whole day of traveling, the two shinobi reached the village of Seidaikaze on the coast of Wind Country. It was a prosperous trading village (as denoted by the name, 'Prosperous Wind') and harbored the second largest non-shinobi navy in the world. Suna got most of its wooden materials, silk, spices, and other luxury items from Seidaikaze.

Temari and Takeshi showed their passports and were allowed entrance to bustling village. The duo reached the daimyo's palace (its eastern wing was living quarters for the family while the rest served as an office building) and was escorted to the waiting room. Curiously, Temari crumpled a bit of the small sandwiches they had been served, and fed the crumbs to the koi fish in the pond she sat by. It always entertained her to watch them wiggling to the surface of the water to gulp up the tiny morsels of food.

Her shinobi senses alerted her of the approaching footsteps and she was at her feet at once, looking as impeccable and deadly as any kunoichi should. Takera was standing as well, and the daimyo's secretary led them to his office. In and out, quickly as possible she wanted.

No civilian village particularly liked shinobi visiting their village, whether it was for trade or missions, so diplomats were sent every two years to negotiate new terms with the daimyo and village trade relations officials.

Gaara, now the Kazekage, had sent her as an act of goodwill. The sister of the head of a shinobi village showed the Seidaikaze officials that they were taken seriously, despite the large gap between their lifestyles.

Temari and Takera both bowed to the daimyo, receiving a nod in return. His face was young but he would be considered middle-aged by active shinobi terms—age twenty five, probably. His father had died the year before, leaving the seat of daimyo behind.

"Rihatsu-sama, we are here to negotiate the terms of the new trade relations between the Trading village of Seidaikaze and the Hidden Village of Suna. Our Kazekage has requested we bring you his terms for the agreement. My partner, Takeshi, and I, Temari, will negotiate any terms you have problems with." Her voice was professional, cold to remind the daimyo who he was dealing with, but with no dangerous edge to it.

The chestnut haired man scanned through the paper, his brow furrowing and his eyes darkening as he read further on. Temari's eyes met Takeshi's. Both had read the requests and found nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, it was practically the same as the one from two years before.

"There is just one problem I see with this, Temari-san, Takeshi-san."

Takeshi stepped forward, his six foot tall frame much more intimidating that Temari's mere five foot six inches. "What is it, Rihatsu-sama? We will, as Temari-san stated, negotiate with you."

Rihatsu leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands on top of his desk, glaring slightly at the two teens before him. "The entrance of shinobi in my village."

Temari blinked. This was totally ridiculous! How were they to get their trade supplies if they were allowed into the village.

"Or, the trade with shinobi at all, I'm afraid."

Takeshi's eyes narrowed dangerously; Rihatsu didn't react. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Rihatsu-sama."

"I've never supported my father, the former daimyo, in his interaction with shinobi. They raise their children to be mercenaries—killers for hire. I've heard of the incident in the Hidden Village of Kiri. A young boy slaughtered hundreds of children in the academy. And your shinobi village is run by a Jinchuuriki, correct? The Hidden Village of Konoha is considering putting a Jinchuuriki in charge as well. Your ANBU have a special torture squad. You hunt down 'missing-nin' and dispose of them." His voice had slowly risen as he listed off the worst points of the shinobi lifestyle.

"And are you aware of the lives lost during a shinobi raid? The hundred and thirty villagers, almost half of them women and children, that were killed? You shinobi are nothing but murderers and assassins hiding under the pretext that you are doing something noble. I will not cooperate with such people!" Rihatsu jumped to his feet, slamming his palms flat on his desk and sending a few papers shivering too the ground.

Takeshi has his fists clenched, though his calm, cool façade hadn't faded. "Rihatsu-sama. We would like to talk over this. Past raids that weren't associated with Suna shouldn't be what this trade agreement is based on. We help your village prosper and—"

"GET OUT!"

Takeshi was rudely cut off at the daimyo's yell. Temari's eyes widened slightly and she quickly tried to pacify the reddening man, "Please, Rihatsu-sama! This would be good for your village and mine as well! We could renegotiate the terms if you'd like!"

Rihatsu's arm raised, shaking, and pointed them to the doorway. "Get. Out. I will call my guards in!"

With no choice but to leave, Temari and Takeshi disappeared out the door. No civilian guard could possibly defeat them, but as this was a diplomatic mission, they had to stay peaceful.

"Bastard…"

Temari gripped Takeshi's hand tightly, rage overcoming her. With no more words exchanged, the two set off at top speed to return to Suna and inform Gaara of their failure.

No blood. No death. No gore. But Temari had rarely felt worse on a mission. Her village was counting on her. Her Kazekage was counting on her. Her brother. And she had let them, him, down.

Temari felt the pull of her muscles and she tightened her arm, bending her wrist to twist his back. Gaara's eyes had held so much disappointment, and his dismissal after her debriefing had hurt her. There would be other missions, other trade agreements, but…

'I'm good. I'm better. I'm great. I'm perfect. That mission was too easy for me, anyways. Put me against an Akatsuki member and I could've won. Diplomatic missions are just so boring.'

She slammed the man's arm into the table, splintering it. "HA!" she let out a bark of laughter and waggled her finger at him, "Told you I'd win! I'm the best!"

She turned to the other shinobi standing around, "C'mon! Anyone ready to spar me? I'll kick your ass! Two on one!"

Two chuunin smirked and walked up to her. They crouched and the other shinobi quickly backed away, betting among themselves how long (or how short of a time) the chuunin would last. In a mere two minutes, both teens were unconscious and fifty feet away. Cheers and groans came from the crowd as money was exchanged and two more chuunin came up.

Defeat came in three minutes.

Two jounin.

'I'm good. I'm better. I'm the best. I'm perfect.'

Defeat came in five minutes.

"TAIJUTSU ONLY!"

A chuunin and a jounin.

Cheers and groans and of course, money exchanged, in five minutes.

Two jounin.

Two unconscious men in seven minutes.

'I can beat all of them. I'm strong. I'm the strongest.'

Two chuunin and a jounin—one was a woman.

Defeat in almost ten minutes.

Another jounin.

Defeat in ten minutes.

'That mission was just too easy.'

"I'LL RACE YOU! NO CHAKRA!"

A chuunin.

Temari felt her heart pump hard in her chest. Blood pounded in her ears and she ached to rid herself of the nausea that overwhelmed her. The shame.

'I'm good. I'm better. I'm the best. I'm perfect. I can beat all of them. I'm strong. I'm the strongest. That mission was just too easy.'

She won by a foot.

'Look at all these shinobi I beat. I'm better than them. I can beat all of them. I did beat all of them.'

She wasn't doing this to prove herself. She didn't need to prove herself. She was just better than them. She was better. She was better, better, better. She was better. She was more powerful. She was swifter. She was more graceful. She was better.

An arrogant smile pulled at her lips as she defeated one shinobi after another.

'I'm the best. I'm the best. I'm the best. I'm the best. I don't need anyone. That mission was just too easy. Just too easy. It was just too easy, that's all.'

-0-

Gaara frowned at the sudden pile up of shinobi in the hospital. There had been no increase in high level missions recently…. All had similar wounds—bad bruising, cracked ribs, concussions, broken bones, gashes.

The pile of papers had been placed on the ground next to his desk, less important than the others previously scattered in front of him. Must've been two weeks old. Temari entered and spread her legs slightly more than shoulder length apart, her hands clasped behind her back. Standard debriefing stance,

"B Class Reconnaissance Mission. April 12…"

The air of arrogance that had seemed to hang over her the previous weeks had dissipated, and Gaara raised his non-existent brows in comprehension.

'Until next time, then.'

-0-

Fin

A/N: I just couldn't write this chapter. Anyways, I'm gonna go back and revise 'To Feel' because I found a whole bunch of grammar/spelling mistakes, and I don't like how I rushed in some of the chapters. PLEASE REVIEW! (Spread the word of my story. Heehee)