Hannah was moved into her new living quarters secretly by one ANBU. How that was accomplished? The American curled up in a duffle bag and the ANBU member transported her to the house- or so Hannah hoped.
Of all the movies she had seen and books she had read, the dog-face masked ninja could be an impersonator. It didn't help that there had been two attempts on her life, or Gaara instructed her personal entourage to train her. In the way of the ninja.
Personally, Hannah was thrilled. She was going to become a frickin' ninja!
Although Ralph had taught her a bit of taijutsu, Gaara explained it wouldn't be enough to stop a professional ninja assassin.
Temari announced, to lessen the throng of females and root out the killer, that there would be rounds. Rounds involving ninja skills. Hannah's brain knew the necessity of learning quickly depended on her staying in Suna and staying alive.
The first round was three days before the ball marking Shikamaru and Temari's marriage. Of course it was dancing and Hannah, although a good dancer, hated dancing.
She was a modest dancer. She moved like a reed in the wind. If anyone ever wanted her to die of humiliation, dancing was perfect. Hannah didn't do classical dances, or any dances other than the dirty dance moves her friends had taught her.
"Stay in the house as much as possible," advised the mysterious dog-face masked nin.
"Er, so what type of dances do I have to practice?" Hannah asked.
He cocked his head. "Waltzing, Latin Swing, Salsa, and Mai."
"Uh, what is Mai?" a confused American asked, sweatdropping.
"Mai is performed in Japanese rooms, not a stage. The Kyomai or Kyoto Style Dance is a part of Mai, heavily depending on elegance and sophistication of manners associated with royalty," The ANBU explained.
Hannah entered the house, locking the door with a sense of dread. She should just buy her ticket to America now. There was no way she could waltz, swing, salsa, and do a traditional Japanese dance!
"Baka Japanese hime-samas have the advantage," Hannah muttered, cursing the princesses of the hidden villages. She would have to find herself a willing partner and practice with him. "B-but dancing with the K-Kazekage!?"
It was like a hellish nightmare come true. She could imagine herself trampling his toes every other step, reducing them to mush.
Stretching her stiff muscles, Hannah was unnerved to find her belongs in their respective suitcases and backpack. Perhaps she should rig her window and door next time.
It would lessen chances of visitors or an unexpected 'hello' from my killer, Hannah reflected, wondering if she had more than one killer. The portentous thought made goose bumps break out on her skin.
Climbing the carpeted steps, the American recalled another aspect about the round she hated- the dress. Hannah wasn't a dress or skirt person. Dresses, high heels, and skirts- evil things invented by perverts who didn't want their dates to escape quickly while getting a peek at the female's underwear.
She was a baggy clothing person- shorts and shirts, hiding her ugly body beneath them.
Another con was make up. Cosmetics weren't her area of expertise and the American doubted her ambitious fellow housemates would lend a skilled hand.
Choosing a plain grey room with two large beds and picking the bed farthest from the window, Hannah slid her things under the bed. She crawled underneath and fell asleep, draped over her things.
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"Words of 'd'," Hannah cursed under her breath as four more females entered through the door.
One of them was a toothpick- skinny, slender, gorgeous, pale pink skin- with long black hair tied in a loose ponytail. Her hazel eyes snagged on me. She wore a dark purple miniskirt with light lilac polka dots. Her cleavage-sneak preview shirt was the light lilac color that accentuated every curve of her body.
The middle woman had pale porcelain skin and shocking green eyes, blending with her teal hair that was pulled into a high ponytail. Over her nose and mouth, she wore a black mask. Underneath her navy blouse and corduroy pants, was black spandex that covered her skin. The eccentric woman also wore black gloves.
The third, however, nearly made Hannah choke on her scrambled eggs. She had choppy, unruly blonde hair. Her cold brown eyes reflected no light. Her body was curvy and slender in every way possible. From her perfect hair to her perfect manicured, painted toenails.
Everything the blond wore was pink, purple, or bright colors. The competitor didn't seem pleased to see Hannah or the other two. The American could guess she was fantasizing about walking down the isle in her lacy, ruffled white wedding gown toward Gaara.
"Who are you?" the blond asked in a perfect imitation of a preppy.
"Anna," Hannah lied, using one of her nicknames. "or Anne. Who are you three?"
"Rin," piped up the blond. "Rin Nikomedes."
"Chika Ayame," answered the black haired female coolly.
The woman with teal hair hesitated. "Maite Daisuke."
Although they glanced at her in askance, Hannah didn't feel compelled to share her last name. Rin made herself at home, plopping down in the chair like she owned the place.
"So when did you get here?" she asked, leaning forward, exposing Hannah to an attack of cleavage. The American stood and placed her dish in the sink. Does it matter when I got here? She wanted to snap, but told her, "Not too long before you three."
Hannah wouldn't give any of them direct answers unless forced. They didn't need to know anything. Deep down, in every female, was a jealous monster that overshadowed any males'. "For the female of the species is more deadly than the male" as Rudyard Kipling so astutely put and Hannah believed it. She had witnessed enough fights between a pair of females and a pair of males to know women fight with a passionate hate.
There was an awkward silence and Hannah left before she got a stomach ulcer. By the time she'd unpacked and grabbed a blank canvas, Maite Daisuke, the teal haired one, opened the door.
"Oh, g-gomen nasai," Maite said, beginning to retreat.
"No prob," Hannah invited with a wave of her hand. "You can share the room as long as you don't snore or sleep walk."
The light pink skinned girl gave a wane smile and strode over to the bed. The American painted as her new roommate finished. Maite glanced over her shoulder and read aloud, "'I shall pass this way but once. Any good that I can do or any kindness that I can show, let me do it now, for I shall not pass this way again' by Anonymous."
"That's so sweet," gasped Maite Daisuke. "I like it."
"You can keep it if one of us gets eliminated," Hannah told her, tacking it up on a wall by their mirror. "This is one of my favorite quotes."
"I think it will become one of mine too."
"So," Hannah shut and bolted the door. "why are you after the Kazekage?"
"I'm not after the Kazekage."
"No kidding. Who caught your eyes?" Hannah leaned back on the bed, hands entwined under her head.
"Kankuro-san."
"You like him?"
"I-I don't know," answered the helpless girl.
"Have you seen him or met him?"
"Seen."
"You liiike him. You wanna kiss him. You wanna" Hannah made a rude gesture causing Maite's face to turn bright red "him," teased the American.
"I-I don't want to" Maite repeated the gesture falteringly "him!"
Hannah gave slowly nodded her head. "Uh huh. That's what they all say."
"So why are you here?" asked the teal haired woman, changing the subject.
"Stupid Internet bribe, but I kinda got attached" Hannah didn't want to say love "to the country and it's become my temporary home- one I like. I don't really care about the money anymore. At first I thought it was all a joke."
"What if you win?" Maite asked.
The American repressed a snort, quoting from Lily Tomlin, "'The trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat.'"
"Do you have a quote for everything?"
"Almost, but when I don't I have a song," Hannah grinned.
Maite clambered onto Hannah's bed and leaned so close the American became a little paranoid. "I have a secret," whispered the teal haired girl. "Don't tell."
"I'm Maite Daisuke, Hime of the Hidden Grass Village."
Disclaimer: don't own quote by Anonymous or quote by Lily Tomlin
Baka- idiot, moron, stupid person
Hime- princess
Gomen nasai- sorry (polite)