Naruto: figure eight (temari gen)
I feel like a dead person who is forced to become a ghost because of unfinished business :O (in other words, thank god I am a lazy bum or otherwise there's no reason I could convince myself to still post)
tongari, for you <3. You wanted Temari & better to love now than later, and uh. It's in here. Somewhere .___. Also, read Naruto chapters 219-225 yesterday on the sly between 1 and 2 AM, and GIVE ME BACK GAARA >:E
figure eight
Relationships in Hidden Sand are arranged early and methodically, usually by an elder and taken place before the age of twenty. Each member of the community is responsible for the protection of Sand, whether it's by militia or trade, and the most popular future for Sand children is ninja training. Females are especially encouraged, if only because healthier women breed healthier offspring; the only problem is Sand in the past has noticed female ninjas are more likely to be killed off or injured in assignments, and because of this, it's general policy for girls to reproduce as soon as they can, before they raise in status.
Temari never had to worry about regular procedures; political influence in Sand guaranteed that, but she knows prejudices; she knows the underlying feeling that if she fails, if she screws up, if she slips just one time, she won't get a second chance. Sand never settles for good; Sand doesn't care about equality. Sand only goes for greatness, and so Temari learns at an early age how not to be a girl. She keeps her hair short and easy, clothes comfortable, body prepared. She accepts the impossibility of privacy during missions, going without bathing for several days, sleeping in the same tent as boys. Gaara and Kankuro were never the sensitive or awkward type, and that made things a little easier, in a harder way.
Her first impression of Konoha is the population. There are people everywhere. Leaf and Sand are about the same size, give and take nonexistent Sand borders, but the streets in Leaf are filled with buildings and stands, people weaving their way in and out of themselves. Two children run in front of her, the boy leading the girl, the girl wearing pigtails and holding a straw basket. She flashes Temari a smile when she passes. The air's humid and warm, but not like Sand, not stifling, not dry, and the first breath has trouble coming out. There's indistinct laughter to the up and left of her, and the sound meshes with the light conversations she overhears as she walks. It's a strange combination.
The memory sticks with her in all the years to come, up to when she finds herself living in Leaf, the population lower than before, but still with the same atmosphere, same personalities, same indistinct laughter coming from around her; the women at the food stands speak with breathy voices, like they have to inhale enough air to make any sound, and Temari learns to live, learns to live with it.
"So what do you think of Konoha?" Shikamaru asks her. He's peeling apples with a blunt knife, letting the peel crawl toward the ground in one long line. He's better at it than most girls, Temari thinks. Ever since they came back, Neji, Naruto, Shikamaru, Kiba, Chouji, all of them had been losing weight steadily, and they receive free food on behalf of the village: free fruit, free vegetables, free ramen, anything they'd want to eat. It doesn't help much.
"Green," Temari replies shortly. It takes a while for her to get used to the trees and grass and flowers, and all the foods they grow themselves. Everything has an earthy feel to it; everything smells natural and wet. "Everyone is so young," she says, not without scorn.
"It's the way things are here," Shikamaru shrugs half-heartedly. He takes a bite of his apple. "Time moves slower." And Temari thinks, that's it, isn't it: time moves slower in Leaf, whereas time was not even a concept in Sand, the grains stuck together in an endless golden sea. Time was eternity, and eternity was determined as soon as you were born. "It must have been nice growing up here," she ventures. The wind's blowing through the window, and it gives her arms goosebumps. She rubs them absentmindedly.
Shikamaru shades his eyes from the sun. "Yeah, it was okay."
so young and so old and
so in love with the world.
(no, I will never get over that poem of Susan's)
tongari, for you <3. You wanted Temari & better to love now than later, and uh. It's in here. Somewhere .___. Also, read Naruto chapters 219-225 yesterday on the sly between 1 and 2 AM, and GIVE ME BACK GAARA >:E
figure eight
Relationships in Hidden Sand are arranged early and methodically, usually by an elder and taken place before the age of twenty. Each member of the community is responsible for the protection of Sand, whether it's by militia or trade, and the most popular future for Sand children is ninja training. Females are especially encouraged, if only because healthier women breed healthier offspring; the only problem is Sand in the past has noticed female ninjas are more likely to be killed off or injured in assignments, and because of this, it's general policy for girls to reproduce as soon as they can, before they raise in status.
Temari never had to worry about regular procedures; political influence in Sand guaranteed that, but she knows prejudices; she knows the underlying feeling that if she fails, if she screws up, if she slips just one time, she won't get a second chance. Sand never settles for good; Sand doesn't care about equality. Sand only goes for greatness, and so Temari learns at an early age how not to be a girl. She keeps her hair short and easy, clothes comfortable, body prepared. She accepts the impossibility of privacy during missions, going without bathing for several days, sleeping in the same tent as boys. Gaara and Kankuro were never the sensitive or awkward type, and that made things a little easier, in a harder way.
Her first impression of Konoha is the population. There are people everywhere. Leaf and Sand are about the same size, give and take nonexistent Sand borders, but the streets in Leaf are filled with buildings and stands, people weaving their way in and out of themselves. Two children run in front of her, the boy leading the girl, the girl wearing pigtails and holding a straw basket. She flashes Temari a smile when she passes. The air's humid and warm, but not like Sand, not stifling, not dry, and the first breath has trouble coming out. There's indistinct laughter to the up and left of her, and the sound meshes with the light conversations she overhears as she walks. It's a strange combination.
The memory sticks with her in all the years to come, up to when she finds herself living in Leaf, the population lower than before, but still with the same atmosphere, same personalities, same indistinct laughter coming from around her; the women at the food stands speak with breathy voices, like they have to inhale enough air to make any sound, and Temari learns to live, learns to live with it.
"So what do you think of Konoha?" Shikamaru asks her. He's peeling apples with a blunt knife, letting the peel crawl toward the ground in one long line. He's better at it than most girls, Temari thinks. Ever since they came back, Neji, Naruto, Shikamaru, Kiba, Chouji, all of them had been losing weight steadily, and they receive free food on behalf of the village: free fruit, free vegetables, free ramen, anything they'd want to eat. It doesn't help much.
"Green," Temari replies shortly. It takes a while for her to get used to the trees and grass and flowers, and all the foods they grow themselves. Everything has an earthy feel to it; everything smells natural and wet. "Everyone is so young," she says, not without scorn.
"It's the way things are here," Shikamaru shrugs half-heartedly. He takes a bite of his apple. "Time moves slower." And Temari thinks, that's it, isn't it: time moves slower in Leaf, whereas time was not even a concept in Sand, the grains stuck together in an endless golden sea. Time was eternity, and eternity was determined as soon as you were born. "It must have been nice growing up here," she ventures. The wind's blowing through the window, and it gives her arms goosebumps. She rubs them absentmindedly.
Shikamaru shades his eyes from the sun. "Yeah, it was okay."
so young and so old and
so in love with the world.
(no, I will never get over that poem of Susan's)