Ch.4:Tenth Circle of Hell

He visited her at her workplace quite often that week. Some days she wondered if he actually did anything other than hang out at that store and nap. Not that she would be surprised if he didn't do anything else – there wasn't much to do in the excessively green town. Half the teenage population circled around the area she worked in.

It also seemed that half the teenage population greatly disliked her. The only friends (she wasn't even sure if she could even call them friends) were Shikamaru and Naruto. Shikamaru was…He just was; there didn't seem to be a word to describe whatever relationship she had with him. As for Naruto, he talked to everyone, making it hard for to gauge whether they really were friends or he was just being himself.

Funny, that, she had fewer friends than her brothers – either of them.

To be honest it was more than just a little depressing.

It was that bitchy thing. She really had to become more amiable. Or at the very least, learn how to interact with these people. Ugh.

Was it really her fault if she was socially inept?

Regardless, as normal as it would be to have more acquaintances, she didn't particularly mind having only two. Naruto was sweet, loud, and really fun to talk to. Shikamaru was intelligent, caring, and surprisingly thoughtful (you know, for a jackass). So talking to only them didn't bother her quite as much as it probably should.

She was currently berating herself for having agreed to do the stupid carnival thing. She wasn't a social person, and carnivals usually required a lot of social interaction.

Plus, it was like, a date.

A date.

Of all the nine circles of hell, Temari was still damn sure that a date was worse then them. Naturally she had no clue what being through into a lake of fire felt like and she imagined any sort of raining fire must be incredibly painful, but nowhere near as dreadful as a date. There was the psychological torture a date brought, and that was before, after, and during the date, because everyone knows a good deal of stressing is required beforehand (usually clothes related), another good bout during (usually conversation related), and some more after (usually cursing your stupidity). Beyond the psychological torture there were the possibilities of physical and verbal torture, spanning from objects, friends, to the date himself. Even Dante Alighieri found it so devastating that he could not bring himself to write the words in his book. (1)

She sighed. All this torture simply because she was manipulated by a blond with long blond hair.

How was she even supposed to socialize? Really, now, it's not like she'd been born with some…talky gene. She was introverted, thank you very much. Well…sort of. Considering how much she enjoyed yelling it would seem she were more of the extroverted type.

People who didn't know her, tended to think her malicious and quiet. People who did know her, tended to think her violent and talkative.

Either way, not a combination that worked really well in social events.

She might even scare the little kiddies.

A carnival.

A carnival for goodness' sakes!

What did one even wear to that? Temari sat perched on her bed glaring at the closet. She'd been doing so for the past twenty minutes and had yet to think of something reasonable to wear.

She didn't even have much to wear. Since the whole monetary issue with her father, Temari had sold off most of her fancier, nicer, more expensive clothes to help out. Leaving her, thus, with jeans, floofy ankle-length cheap skirts, a pair of worn tennis shoes, commonplace t-shirts, sandals, and a random tank top here and there; nothing that would look nice for a date. And most certainly nothing that would knock the stupid lazy off his feet.

Ugh. Maybe she was cute.

Temari visibly scowled at the thought.

She looked at the clock. Brilliant. Only two hours. Two hours to pull a stunning outfit out of nowhere. Stories always worked so much better. The female protagonists never had the burden of having a pathetic excuse for a closet. Maybe, she mused in dejection, she wasn't the female protagonist. Maybe, she was one of those side characters who later got killed off to better improve the main character's personality and mood.

Oh, yippie.

The doorbell chimed suddenly.

"Gaara, can you get that?

Gaara was going to the carnival of doom too, it's just he and Kankurou (though she figured Kankurou's reasons for going were quite different) was going with a group of people like friend-ish. (Apparently the 'hip' thing here. Why couldn't Shikamaru do the 'hip' thing instead of asking her out on a stupid date?)

She continued glaring at her closet for a bit, before Gaara appeared at her doorway. "It's for you."

Temari blinked. "Me?"

"Yeah. You."

"Who is it?"

"Kankurou's crush."

Temari quickly swung herself off the bed and scampered over to the living room rushing past her youngest brother (who looked incredibly amused at her curiosity). This was going to prove interesting. Humming innocently she ambled into the room.

Another important reason she couldn't be a princess in a fairy tale or the main character in the story: she was clumsy as hell.

Upon entering she somehow tangled her feet in the carpet and plummeted face down. (And because she was amazingly coordinated, in getting up she managed to knock over a vase.) Fantastic.

Quiet, muffled, syrupy giggles chimed out.

Temari froze.

Oh, please no.

She turned slowly to find a thin, platinum-haired, pink-lipped girl giggling.

Oh, just great!

It was Blondie.

Ack, even when she wasn't working she was to be tortured. "That isn't funny." Temari snapped. This was why dates should be a circle in hell. Everything before and after was excruciatingly torturous.

Ino straightened, mirth never fading from her eyes. "I disagree."

"What do you want?" She snapped. Kankurou liked her? He liked this crazy, annoying-as-hell…thing?

"Rude. You're going to have to be nicer to me."

"I'm not going to have to do anything to you." Except maybe kick you…

Blondie flicked her hair back, a pretentious smile on her lips. "I just came to see what you were going to wear."

"Clothes. What else?" She replied. "Now, go away."

She smirked. "Well, it's just I wanted to see what pretty little thing you were going to wear to prove to Shikamaru that you weren't cute."

Temari had mentioned to Shikamaru a day or two after he'd asked her out that she wasn't cute, and he'd damn well see it, because she would prove it come the carnival. Shikamaru had started a laughing fit and Temari had smacked him upside the head, declaring that laughing at her was rude. He'd rolled his eyes, and said to her that she could never be anything but cute.

Temari's eyes narrowed. "How—?"

"Oh, Shikamaru's best friend is Chouji, and Chouji talks."

Stupid Lazy, telling people that she was cute.

"I have to agree with him," Ino said nonchalantly, "your style can be described as nothing but cute. Not that that's a bad thing, really, you look adorable – even those odd little pigtails match the image. Like a little girl trying to look tough."

Temari scowled, "You're just a passive-aggressive (2) creature."

"Why, thank you."

Temari rolled her eyes. "And you call me a freak?" Irritated with the girl's very presence in her house (could you remove the smell of lilies from the air?) she pushed Blondie toward the door. "Nice to talk to you, now go away."

"I can help you find the outfit."

Temari paused in her pushing.

Ino smirked. "I knew it. You do need help. You don't have shit do you?"

"I…You…Shut up." Temari regained her desire to have her out of the house and renewed hear attempts at shoving her out of the house.

"Oh, come on, Thing1" (3) Ino cooed, "I can help, really."

Temari stopped completely, "Thing1? What the hell is that?"

Ino nodded. "And Shika is Thing2. He's been Thing2 since we were four; he's been needing a Thing1." She brushed her hair out of her bangs.

"Why is he Thing2?" Temari asked, deciding to humor the psychotic blonde. Wasn't there some rule in maintaining your life that said you were supposed to humor the crazies? "Wouldn't it make more sense if he were Thing1?"

She inclined her head. "I suppose, but I was Thing1 for a while, so Thing2 stuck."

"You dated?" Temari asked, confused at the jealousy she felt.

"Briefly." She shrugged as if it were nothing.

"When?"

She shrugged. "Days? Months? Weeks?" She seemed incredibly disinterested in the subject. "Does it even matter? I was bored, he was there, end of story."

"I…You…What the hell?" Temari was having trouble figure out if she was being serious or if she really was insane.

Ino wrinkled her nose. "Oh, really, you must change, you look horrible."

Temari looked down at herself. "Well, they're sweats…"

"And awful ones."

"Blondie," Temari sighed in annoyance. "Go away." Screw safety. If she was insane, and tried to kill her for being discourteous she probably couldn't anyway. She looked the fragile type.

"I'm helping, Temari." Ino chastised.

"No you are not—"

"Do you want to be Thing1 or not?" She harrumphed.

Temari hesitated. "Yes."

"Well we can't have his Thing1 looking cute now can we? So, I must help make it all better."

She sighed. "Are you mentally ill?"

"Nope. Are you?"

"I…No…"

"Good. It's settled then." Blondie wheeled around Temari so she was back inside the living room, "Where's your closet?"

Temari blinked. "Oh, for…This is just…" She clamped her mouth shut and walked back to her room. Maybe Temari was drunk. That would explain this conversation she was having. It would also explain why she was letting Ino into her room. Really who let a demon into their home, let alone their room? That could be plausible explanation if she ever, you know, had touched alcohol.

Maybe Blondie was the one who was drunk.

Temari stepped into her room wondering if essence of Ino could be permanently etched into the air and the objects she touched. She really didn't like the smell of lilies; if it invaded her room she would be really pissed. Temari sat back on her bed, and watched blankly as Blondie pulled open her closet and with extreme efficiency pulled article of clothing after article of clothing scrutinizing everything with narrowed eyes and a vicious offhand comment. In under five minutes, the entirety of clothes she owned were splayed on the floor.

"You have nothing!" Blondie exclaimed.

"I know."

"But…" She spluttered, "Everyone has something! Even Tenten has something for cripes' sake!"

"Well…Maybe….I am…" Temari flinched, "Cute…"

Ino snapped her fingers. "Nonsense." She walked around the floor and picked up a white, slightly frayed, long, cheap skirt and a violet (also cheap) tank top. She didn't own a single expensive thing, Temari thought somberly. "Do you have scissors?"

Temari blinked. "What?"

"Scissors."

"Third drawer on the right."

Ino opened the drawer efficiently and settled on her bed with the skirt and the tank top. "Needle?"

"What are you doing?"

"Fixing you an outfit."

"I…"

"So, needle?"

Temari once more wondered if Blondie was insane.

"If there's one thing I know it's clothes. Trust me."

"I have a hard time even digesting that sentence let alone trusting you."

Ino hacked most of her white skirt off with the scissors in one swift motion.

A squeak of lament slipped from Temari's lips.

"Too late. Now get me a needle and some white thread."

Temari sighed but complied. Her skirt was already ruined anyway, might as well let her try it out. (Temari had no skill with a needle. She could cook, she could clean, she BS her way out of and into anything, but sewing? Not a chance.)

Ino actually seemed pretty…good with the needle. In no time, the skirt began to look presentable. And in under fifteen minutes, Ino had finished the 'outfit'. The skirt now was now much shorter and Blondie had somehow (she did something with the washer) given it a light purple tint. Her dark violet tank top was now a dark violet spaghetti strap white ribbon for the straps and more white ribbon laced around the end. Ino had then proceeded to take two of her cheaper and smaller fans from her collection and managed to pin them to the shirt with the thread and a safety pins. The two fans were right at the place the white ribbon straps met the purple of her top in front.

Ino shoved the clothes into her hands. "Put them on."

Temari opened her mouth to protest but closed it promptly. Usually, Temari prided herself upon her glares, and as a person with decidedly chilly glares she was very good at spotting ill intent. Ino's were drowning with a threat if she refused to at least try on her outfit. With another sigh, Temari slipped into the bathroom and put the clothes on.

It was actually very nice-looking (and happened to make her look ravishing) but… Temari entered back into her room and tugged at the hem of the skirt. "Blondi—Ino this is just too showy. I feel…bare."

Ino nodded. "You're right. Too sexy for someone like you"

Temari glared at her. "Someone like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She wanted to throw something at her. "You really are a passive aggressive thing." She grumbled under her breath.

"You're just too…lovely to pull of something like this. Someone like you would be better suited for more conformist clothing."

Temari's lips pursed. "Fuck you." With a huff she dug out some white boots (possibly the only expensive article of clothing she'd kept) and slipped them on.

Ino smirked.

Temari scowled as she realized what Ino's intention had been all along.

Ino inclined her head. "Nice boots by the way."

"They were my mom's." The only reason she'd kept the boots. She only had the boots to remember her mother by and that one lone photograph which her mother didn't look that happy in anyway.

"Hn." Ino straightened, chipper and plastic as ever. "Well, I've got to get ready now."

Temari stared at her. "You aren't ready?"

Ino laughed. "Are you joking? I'm dressed in rags." She motioned to her very nice, very elegant, probably very expensive outfit. Rags? Oh, jeez. What did Ino think of her closet?

Yup. Temari definitely was not the main character in this story. Ino probably was. Or maybe Bluey…

Ino sashayed out of the house, whistling, "Do something about your hair will you?" She chimed before she pulled the door closed behind her.

What was wrong with her hair?

Temari looked self-consciously at the mirror. She pulled the edge of the skirt down a bit. She had to admit, Ino was good at this. She still looked a bit…cute for her liking, but it had a certain flair. It was cute, but the short skirt was given to at least make Shikamaru smile appreciatively.

Kankurou stopped in the doorway to look at her. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Clothes. Duh."

"B-but, your skirt it's…"

"It's?"

"Look at your legs!"

She looked down at herself. "What's wrong with them?"

"They're showing; that's what's wrong with them."

Behind him, Gaara snickered. "I didn't know you cared how our sister dressed."

"She never dressed like a slut before."

Temari looked down at herself, fearing the worst. "I do not look like a slut." Kankurou looked appalled, Gaara was impassive. "Gaara, do I look like a slut?" Trust the redhead for an honest opinion; he tended to just be blunt.

"No. But I never realized you were a girl before."

Temari scowled. "You are hateful."

Kankurou probably would've laughed if he wasn't so 'disturbed'. "Temari, put on some damn pants or something."

"I look fine." She protested.

"You look—"

"Don't you dare call me a slut again."

He glared at her. "Well you do look like one."

"So? The girl you're smitten with dresses worse!"

"I am not—" He began to protest.

"Don't even try, boy, Gaara spilled."

Kankurou glared at the redhead. Gaara shrugged.

"Out! Out!" Temari said then. "Both of you, out of my room, now!"

Kankurou gave her one last look then turned away in distaste.

Gaara stared blankly at her. "All this is for Nara?"

"Get out, Gaara."

"I'm just asking."

"Yes. Now, get out."

Gaara blinked. "Girls are weird." He then exited her room.

Temari returned to looking at herself in the mirror. She was still slightly disturbed that Ino had called her four ponytails pigtails. Pigtails was just so…So, so.

She pulled at her hair, and then removed it from the four binds. With extreme care she brushed out all the knots and stared at her appearance. With her hair down she did look 'slutty' as Kankurou put it. Okay, not really, she just didn't like the way her hair fell around her shoulders all loose-like. It got in her face. When she was younger, she had the tendency of chewing on the ends of her hair when it strayed across her face. She'd only stopped because she'd begun to tie it up, Temari had no doubt she might start chewing on the ends of her hair again, if she left it down. Besides, she reasoned, her ponytails gave her character. Who else wore four ponytails on her head like she did?

Screw Ino.

She brushed her hair back up into its traditional do, but instead of the usual rubber bands, she tied them up with the white ribbon Ino had sewed onto her shirt.

It was a little harder to do with ribbon, but nothing too extreme.

Temari gave herself a once over and the mirror and smiled.

She looked just fine.

Not the least bit cute.

(Hopefully)

She headed down to the living room and settled for watching TV while she waited. Gaara sat down beside her.

Surprisingly enough, they were actually watching some news special, and paying attention. Some stint on being careful because there were dangerous people everywhere. It was a bit scary, but Temari doubted the information was useful to her at all – really, she lived in Konoha now, how safe could you get?

"You look nice."

Temari smiled. Gaara wasn't very verbal, so his three word compliment meant a lot to her. "Thanks."

"If he does something inappropriate I'm going to hurt him." Gaara stated calmly.

She snorted. "Don't worry, he does anything I dislike, I'll get to him before you can even say 'cookie'."

"You know," Gaara began slowly. "Very few girls can say that sentence and have their family know that it's true."

"What are you saying?"

"I know you can take care of yourself." He stirred a bit as the sound of the doorbell chimed. "Nonetheless, my previous statement stands."

She rolled her eyes. "Good to know. Anything happens, he's gonna end up getting three beatings." She figured Kankurou would like to kick his ass too. She might as well be fair if she was going to let Gaara do it, right?

"Good source of motivation don't you think?" Kankurou grumbled as he crossed quickly to the door. "I'll take the pleasure of informing him."

Temari wasn't sure if she should hit her brothers or hug them 'till she squeezed all the air out of their bodies. Weirdos. Really.

She could hear Kankurou loudly (and vulgarly) threaten Shikamaru. She cringed a bit at his words. Now, in an ideal story, the savior-prince-whatever would put up with all the trouble to get to the heroine. Except of course this wasn't a story and he could just very well run the other way.

Life was so difficult.

The door slammed shut and Kankurou grumpily stomped into the living room. "Your boyfriend's waiting."

"He's not—" She began to protest, because really all he'd done was ask her on one date and bring her a few cookies – was he really her boyfriend? She didn't think so. Of course, she stopped her protest because she realized just how…annoyed Kankurou seemed. "Why are you so pissy?"

Kankurou glared at her.

"What?" She asked innocently.

Gaara looked over the couch at Kankurou. "Yeah, what?"

"I don't like him."

Funny that, some days neither did she. "It's the genius thing isn't it?"

Kankurou looked at her oddly. "The what thing?"

"Apparently, he's a genius. And he's very…" she frowned, "wordy. Annoys quite a lot of people that way."

"Wordy?" Gaara asked her.

She shrugged. "I don't mean high vocabulary, he's…I dunno, weird."

Gaara looked at her. "You're just…ugh, you're not descriptive at all. He's dating you and he's a genius?"

Temari resisted the urge to hit him. "I'll have you know I'm incredibly intelligent."

"Among whom?" Kankurou chided. "The idiots?"

"Shut up." Oh, jeez, she was juvenile.

"Stupid genius, if you ask me. A real genius would know to avoid you." Kankurou continued.

Temari glared at both of them and jumped up from the couch planning to leave in a huff, which of course was ruined by her smacking her foot into the coffee table and falling onto the floor.

Kankurou laughed.

Gaara smirked.

"I'll have you know, I hate you both." She muttered bitterly, making her way out the house carefully.

"We hate you too." Kankurou called out.

She pulled open the door furiously, temporarily forgetting why she was leaving, so she stormed out to smack straight into someone's chest. She jumped back, tripping on the front step and falling straight on her ass onto the floor. Her cheeks inflamed furiously. Looking up, she saw him shaking with silent laughter.

Ooh, she just hated men.

She got up with as much dignity as she could muster. "That's not funny."

This was so not the first impression she wanted to make.

He was still shaking a bit with laughter. "I beg to differ."

"Oh, yes, just laugh right ahead at my lack of coordination. It's quite amusing." Her eyes narrowed at him. "How do you know I don't have some disease or disorder and you're just wounding me?"

"You don't." He said to her, smiling.

"What if I do?"

"Pointless question as you don't."

"Humor me."

"Then by not laughing I'd be ostracizing you. I'm just including you in the general population by expressing myself as if you had no illness."

She growled. "Jerk."

"You certainly do call me that a lot." His dark eyes were now looking her up and down. She took the opportunity to look at him. He was wearing a plain green shirt with a black jacket donned over it and black jeans. Pretty plain and pretty average.

That didn't mean her heart wasn't beating furiously.

Ugh. Since when was she attracted to run of the mill people-creature-things?

"See, not cute at all." She said to him.

He smirked. "When did Ino come over?"

She scowled. "What?"

"This is her doing."

"What makes you so damn sure?"

"I've known her since we were little; I would know her junk anywhere."

She shoved past him, more than just a little peeved.

"Oh, come on, I didn't say it was ugly."

"I'm going to kick you." She threatened.

He looked a bit aghast. "Please don't. You kick hard."

She turned ready to yell at him, maybe even kick him despite the fact that he said please, but she just ended up staring at him. Ugh! Why did he have to look the way he looked? She blushed a heavy pink and turned back around arms crossed across her chest continuing in a random direction.

"You're funny."

"You're not."

He just smiled at her and placing his hand at the small of her back applied the slightest of pressure directing her in the opposite direction she'd been storming in. "This way."

Goodness gracious, she even got lost in this small town. Boy was she stupid. "You aren't really a genius are you?" she asked suspiciously.

"That's what they say."

"How do they know?"

"They had me take an IQ test."

"What was your score?" She pressed.

He looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "Does it matter?"

"I'd like to know thank you very much."

"It was over two-hundred."

She stumbled over her own feet. Shikamaru righted her before she could plummet to the ground. Over two…whoa. "A lot over or a little over?" she squeaked out.

"…A lot."

Damn. He was a genius. "Well, are you socially inept?"

"Say what?"

"Forget it. Ignore me." Then somehow she tripped over a stupid rock and her feet crashed into each other. She was about to fall to the floor again when Shikamaru's hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her up. She could feel his chest shaking with silent laughter behind her. Stupid jackass. "Stop laughing! This isn't funny!"

"You don't normally seem so clumsy. Tell me, is it the shoes or do you just naturally find something to trip over even when it's a flat and stable surface (4)?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "It's the green. It's disorienting."

He smirked. "Is it now?"

"You're a horrible prince charming."

"Oh, I'm a prince now?"

"I'd thought so, but maybe you're the villain."

"That's okay, prince charming is overrated anyway."

He might have a point. There had to be something wrong with the princes in all the fairy tales if they actually fell for the helpless oh-so-damned-graceful act. Princesses were just a bunch of ditzes with perfect hair who always happened to sing like perfect birdies.

Maybe a villain was what she needed.

After all, she didn't really fit the paper for princess, now did she?

A/N: Next chapter the date.

I'm leaving for Tuscon for a three days tomorrow. Yay! I think.

I didn't reply to much reviews last chapter, I was a bit occupied, but thanks sooo much, you guys are the greatest. I particularly want to thank jocular monoceros who's review had me gushing for days. :D Love, love.

(1) Dante Alighieri wrote the book "Divine Comedy" in which he talks about visiting the afterlife: the inferno (nine circles of hell), purgatory, and paradise.

(2) "When a person acts in a passive-aggressive manner, they are displaying aggression in a way that is indirect as opposed to direct (like hitting or yelling). There is no direct anger or confrontation involved, but the person is expressing aggression indirectly." From

(3) You know, Dr. Seuss's stuff. I always liked that they were called Thing1 and Thing2. It just sounded cool, so I borrowed it. I think it came out in The Cat in the Hat, but I'm not sure.

(4) The not being able to walk across a flat stable surface part without tripping is from the Twilight Saga written by Stephenie Meyer. I'm just not sure which book or which chapter. It's talking about Bella's lack of coordination.