Crossing Stars

Yugao

Author's Note: I'm so sorry it took me forever to finish this chapter, but I have summer school, as you all know... hahaha. Anyway, thanks for staying aboard to read/review. I'm so glad you guys enjoy it. In any case, in this chapter, Tenten makes her first move… targeting the daimyo's nephew. What happens if, as she comes back, someone sees her? Well, if you want to find out, read on… (Someone said I write Sakura so highly. For the record, I don't like her at all, but I don't want to bash her either flamersbad. No worries.)

Disclaimer: There's nothing in Naruto I own.

Chapter 4… Close Your Eyes

Fireflies dotted the pitch-black sky in replacement of those elusive wan stars that seemed barely visible that night. A chill wind rang through the gaps between the paper panels, so that whimsical night-music played. Crickets chirped and frogs croaked in a strange sort of accompaniment. Not a single candle or torch was lit; the whole village of Higure was asleep. The Kiritsubo Inn, too, was silent, and its windows blackened by darkness. Not a soul was stirring in the dead of night.

That is, all except one.

She moved quickly, stealthily, through the dim corridors. It was dark and barely anything could be seen, but she had abandoned her pale blue kimono and her pair of straw sandals for something easier to move around in. Her robe and pants were dark blue and melded her in easily with the shadows. She bandaged her arms and legs with strips of black cloth, and wore cloth shoes over a pair of tabi for silent movement. Her hair was once again brought up to either side of her head in a pair of buns, and a faceless mask was set in place.

Tenten touched two fingers to her weapons pouch, and to the scrolls she tucked safely beneath her belt. She smiled, satisfied, as she slid the side door open and left quietly, leaving no sign that anyone had been there. She jumped up onto rooftops and branches, knowing nothing but the speed, the whisper of the wind through the trees, and the mission she was to accomplish that very night.

The leaves rustled, telltale reminders of the grim task she was undertaking. She winced for a split-second, and scolded herself for it. She owed Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari so much - completing the mission they entrusted her wouldn't fully cover her debt to them. She knew she couldn't disappoint them, not when they put so much faith in her.

No.

Failure must not be one of her options.

Quietly, she pushed a branch back away from her eyes. She was close, now. The white walls of the mansion glittered eerily even in the absence of light. The dark shingles that spanned the roof barely cast a shadow; the windows, too, seemed like patches of the night sky, specially chosen that they were devoid of those weakly glimmering stars, and pasted on the palace's austere white face. Her gaze lowered, to the rows of intricate flowerbeds and rose-bushes that snaked around the magnificent house. Everything was beautiful, even in the darkness of the moonless night. She closed her eyes for a moment, committing to memory each door, each window, each tilt and curve of the gardens from the outside. Then, without a sound, she jumped off the low-slung branch to the damp grass as she continued running, guided by mere instinct and by the eyes trained to see what others do not.

But the wall still stood before her.

It rose up to over thrice her size, lined at the top with spikes that protruded through the stone. The wall itself was seamless, with cracks that were too few and too thin to climb up on. She smirked. She supposed that in addition to living lavishly in such an elegant place, the daimyo's family would certainly have to be very protective of their wealth. Hence the need for silly walls - to give them false hope of security. She reached into her pouch and took out a coiled-up rope and a single shuriken. She tied the two together, and with deadly accuracy, she threw the shuriken up to the spikes. The rope caught onto the dull spikes, stopping the shuriken in its flight and looping itself around the spike. She tugged at it to test how strong it was, and then slowly, she was making her way up what had before seemed an unconquerable obstacle.

As one door closed, another opened.

"Stop! Who are you? Explain yourself!" the tip of a Naginata's blade almost touched the bare skin of her neck, and for a moment she was paralyzed in fear. Her dark eyes darted to the other parts of the garden, but she found none else. She guessed this man was in charge of the whole back wall, and had been patrolling when he caught her. She bit her lip from behind her mask and wondered what she should do. When she didn't answer, the man reached out and tried to hold her still, but she took advantage of the movement and slammed her foot into his midsection. Surprised by the attack, he fell back a few paces but recovered quickly. He changed his stance, lifting the long, thin metal rod higher, with the bladed end towards her. "I don't know who you are, but I swear I'd protect the daimyo at all costs."

She heard herself laugh coldly, indifferently. It sounded so unfamiliar, it was as if she was seeing the whole thing play out through someone else's eyes. "Don't worry. I'm not after your daimyo," she said with another sardonic, bitter laugh. She took a pair of kunai out from her weapons pouch and began her dance: her dance with death. Her dance with blood, sweat, tears, pain.

A dance she knew by heart.

Soon - too soon - the man lay dead, his deep red blood staining the white azaleas that had been blooming.

Footsteps.

He didn't know if they had been remnants of his dream - he had been running, but he didn't know from what - or if he had really heard them outside. Cautiously, Neji pushed the sheets aside, slipped on his wooden sandals, and tried to listen for more movement. He sat still, waiting, listening. He heard crickets chirping. He heard the nightingales in the garden singing, singing. He heard the distant sound of water. He heard his own breaths, slow and controlled but marred with worry. He heard his own heartbeat, pounding in his ears rapidly.

And then - footsteps.

He walked to the other end of the room, where his father's katana lay, beautiful and untainted with what it symbolized. He unsheathed it, putting the glimmering black scabbard back on the table. Tonight - maybe tonight - it was going to taste death once more.

He calmed himself. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps Lee had been sent on a late-night mission to send an urgent message somewhere. Perhaps Hinata had just woken in the middle of the night, as she usually did, and could no longer sleep. Perhaps the guards were making a last patrol around the corridors. Perhaps Sakura had risen for something as mundane as a glass of water. He didn't know. All he knew was the danger, the intense danger, he sensed was coming. He inched his way to the door, slowly, so as not to make a sound, and yanked it open.

No one.

He stiffened as he tried to stem his sigh of relief. He slid the door closed, and his grip on the katana relaxed. It wasn't until the door was shut that he felt that sense of dread again. He didn't turn around. "What do you want from me? Who are you and why are you here?" he asked coolly. He lifted the katana again before he turned to face whoever it was that had entered his room. He couldn't make out the person's features, as it was near pitch-blackness. With a single word he invoked his clan ability, and he saw a silhouette in the middle of the room, masked and melding into the dark. "Explain yourself."

"The last man who told me that now lies in your garden with a kunai through his heart." A woman's voice. It was fluid, languidly gliding over words like water over stones; and it was icy, aloof, distanced and detached from the world. She was merciless, heartless, soulless - a killer. He sensed she was more than a little amused that she had entered the most protected place in the village without much, if any, resistance. His eyes narrowed. She laughed, and added, "And if it comes to that... so will you."

She flung a kunai at him, and it hit the paper-paneled door behind him, not an inch from where he stood. Calmly, he laughed. "You missed," he said, venom lacing his voice.

"No one said I was aiming for you," she replied.

This time, she came for him. She lunged at him with her kunai, running at a speed he could only barely keep track of. He fended off her attack with his katana, and thrust the slim blade towards her, but she blocked it. The sheer power of his blow sent her back a few paces. He saw this as an opening, withdrew his sword from its place against her kunai, and made to plunge it into her side, but she saw what was happening and evaded the attack.

He was unaffected by her parry, and continued to come at her with the katana. He was deathly fast and his moves were more unpredictable and erratic under pressure – he knew she could hardly guess what he was going to try next. He saw the panic that had begun to show in her movements, and he smirked as she tried to back away and take the fight to a longer range. But Neji quickly let her know that he wouldn't let her take the fight on a longer scale – each time she tried to move away, he attacked at the side she turned her back on. Each time she tried to run, he caught up with her. He knew exactly what she was going to attempt - she was more predictable than he had guessed.

He was going to prove to her that she had to make do with what was going on – a short-range fight, with only her kunai to keep her away from certain death by the morbid glint of his sword.

Somehow, in the blur of events he had been able to find an opening at her side. The whistle of the katana cutting through air alerted her enough that she was able to move out of the way, but it was too late. The sword went through her robes and made a long but shallow gash on her. He smirked again. She had infiltrated the palace and made him believe she was a threat, when she was nothing more than an amateur with the weapons she wielded. He was about to turn his back when the sound of metal brought him back to attention. They were pushed back by the impact of steel meeting steel, but she was faster. She sent him a roundhouse kick that threw him halfway across the room. Pain singed his shoulder, and he realized it was one of the kunai she had been using. He cursed himself for dropping his guard for more than a moment.

He heard her voice again, this time weak and drained. "You got lucky tonight," she whispered, "I won't kill you."

"Hah," despite his pain he felt the need to reply. "The truth is, you can't kill me."

"We'll see," she answered, "But I will never let your marriage take place."

And as he struggled to get up, he realized she was gone.

"Sakura-sama!"

Her eyes opened to the complete darkness and the sound of Lee's voice. She yawned sleepily as she pushed herself up off her bed to look at him. "Lee?" she asked as she brushed the sleep away from her eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you waking me so early? Has something happened?" She clutched her robes closer to herself as she slipped her feet into her sandals. She could hear the trepidation in the young man's short, ragged breaths.

"It's Neji, Sakura-sama," he said worriedly, "He's hurt."

Her eyes widened as she stood. "Hurt? How?" she asked as she walked over to where he was. "What happened, Lee?"

"An assassin!" he stammered as he took her wrist, "An assassin came into Neji's room tonight, and threatened to kill him! He's badly wounded."

She bit her lip worriedly. "Take me to him."

"Yes, Sakura-sama."

They said nothing as they half-walked, half-ran through the corridors. Her heartbeat and her feet raced as she followed Lee. It was only her first night in the mansion, and already something had happened to her husband-to-be. She couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible; she knew that several upon several people were greatly opposed to their arranged marriage. Maybe, somehow, it was her fault that this was happening. Maybe, somehow, if she had disagreed to the wedding altogether, both of them would be free of any danger; free of any worry.

Unlike that night.

Lee turned at a corner and slid a door open. She entered first, a part of her frightened and another part relieved that he was all right. He lay there on the bed, cringing with pain but doing nothing else to express it. A hole was borne through his shoulder, and deep crimson stained the sheets. His pallid eyes were closed, as if he was in a fitful, disturbed sleep. Four people stood by his bed - two young men, who had begun to clean the wound; Hinata, who looked on with fear and worry for her cousin; and Hiashi-sama, who watched the scene with his grave, pale eyes.

Hinata saw her first. "Sakura-sama!" she said as she suppressed her tears. "Come. Kiba and Shino are saying it's getting more and more difficult to save him. The kunai... was laced with poison, and..." her words trailed off. Sakura walked over to her and put her arm around the girl's slight, slender shoulders to comfort her, even if she, too, felt nothing but fear over what had only just happened.

"It's going to be all right, Hinata-sama," she whispered as she watched the two young men wipe away the blood that had dried and clung to Neji's skin.

"Sakura..."

A distant memory she had thought she had under control had surfaced again. She felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes.

"My daughter... my dear, beautiful daughter..."

"I'll save you, Mother. Wait... please wait. Please hold on. Please."

"No, Sakura. No more. No more..."

"I can save you, Mother! Please, let me save you!"

"You're innocent, my child... too innocent to know I can no longer be saved."

"Mother!"

"Goodbye, Sakura..."

"Let me," she whispered.

One of the healers, whose face was half-hidden by his robe, looked up at her. "What?"

"Please. Let me clean the wound," beside her, Hinata had stopped shaking to look up at her strangely. She didn't look at her. "I've had much experience in healing, and I would like to help save him."

The other nodded. "Of... of course."

And in the silence of the night, she tended to Neji's wounds. From the corner of the room, the daimyo was watching; he smiled sadly, knowing that this scene was the first of many still to come.

The door slid open. Finally. After hours of waiting.

She walked in through the door, and just as quickly as she did he grabbed her by the wrist and twisted it painfully towards her back. She was about to scream, but he laid a hand over her mouth. "Shh..." he warned. "You don't want anyone to know who you really are, do you? I mean you no harm. Come, I'll bring you to the tea room and you can tell me exactly what you were doing out so late, dressed like this..." he pulled off the mask that had covered her features, and he smirked. "... Tenten."

"Sasuke," she answered, forgetting all her servant-girl courtesy to a guest. He suppressed a laugh at the hatred in her brown eyes. He couldn't quite believe how different she was from the innocent little serving girl he met only that morning. She was a born actress. A born liar. "Let go of me."

"No," he answered, painfully tightening his grip on her wrist, "We'll wake people if we talk here. You have no other choice but to tell me where you went."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she must have realized he was right. She said nothing as she led the way to the tea room obediently, and slid the door open quietly. He followed, and closed the door behind him. With disgust, he let go of her and let her drop to the floor. She glared at him as she sat up again. "What is it that you want, Sasuke?" she asked angrily, venomously. He sat down across from her, watching her. "Why did you bring me here? What do you want to know?"

"Who are you?" he asked.

She sighed exasperatedly. "Mayuri told you this morning, my name is Tenten..."

"Is it really? Because I find it hard to believe that of someone who goes around at midnight, masked," he threw the clay mask down to the mats so that it shattered into several pieces. He didn't care if anyone heard them anymore. "Tell me then, Tenten, what exactly you were doing tonight."

She laughed, bemused. "Big words from someone who passes himself off as a lowly traveler, though he carries a katana worthy of a shogun's wielding."

"My business is my own," he retorted, touching one hand to the sword she had mentioned. It was clear in its scabbard, but her frustrating comebacks were asking to have it unsheathed.

"And I could say that of myself, too," she answered as she stood, gathering the pieces of the mask he had broken. She turned around, and as her back was to him, she said slowly, "I don't know who you really are, Sasuke. I don't know why you're here. To tell you frankly, I'm not quite sure I care, because you aren't harming me with your past. Do not bother yourself with mine."

He glared at her, though he knew she couldn't see him. "Stay. I am not through with you."

"Leave me alone."

"You were fighting tonight," he said suddenly, making her turn around to look at him questioningly. "Your wound. Do you think I did not notice? You are hurt, and you will be even more so if you don't have that treated straightaway. But you don't want anyone else to find out, so you're going to recklessly keep it all to yourself."

She narrowed her eyes. "I can take care of myself."

"Does Mayuri know?"

"Don't bring her into this."

"She does, doesn't she?"

"... No."

"I see."

"I have to leave, now," she said finally, and before he could protest, she slid the door open and left.

He smirked. "I'll find out who you are yet, Tenten."

Author's Note: I know this chapter was more than a little morbid, and please forgive me if you don't like it. But it really was the tone I was trying to set for this chapter, because it revolves around death, pain, and all those emo things Sasuke enjoys. Haha. Just kidding. Anyway, time for clarifications! Azaleas are flowers that are native to China and other countries in the Orient, with varieties in white, pink, yellow, lavender, etc. They symbolize tradition and purity. (How ironic... hahaha.) And the Byakugan has now been mentioned... well, of course you know what that is, otherwise you shouldn't even be here. (Just kidding) And a Shogun is a general in the Japanese army, the leaders, who are often depicted with the best weapons and armor, hence Tenten's allusion to Sasuke's kusanagi (which appears to be a sword befitting a shogun). Thanks, I hope you enjoyed!