A single drop of dew.
It spilt from the leaf of a shaky tree, the forest alight with dreamy incandescence. It was almost serene - Tenko couldn't say. That wasn't a concept she had ever been exposed to before now. The morning liquid ran down the length of her cheek, over the high crest of her cheekbone and tracing sluggishly across pale, healing scars from a distinctive set of claws. That was almost over, at least. She wouldn't admit she had thought back to that moment many a night since, not of fear but shame, yet it still haunted her now. Every sideways glance into a reflective surface reminded her that even she still had her weaknesses. That despite these weeks and months and years of excessive training - reducing her to no more than the ascetic creature she had become - there would be events she still wasn't yet prepared for and there would be consequences for each and every mistake.
Shinobi did not make mistakes. They were not meant to. A hushed noise, a swallowed sigh parting dry lips. She took another step into the wilderness, letting the maw of these glimmering fronds embrace her until she could disappear into their shadows. She lifted her water to her lips and took a swig, the cool touch enough to add light bits of color to her pallid features. Was this melancholy? Did she have access to that emotion? If not, what was it? Self pity? That thought was disgusting, but was disgust on her palette any more than misery? That small part of her, the girl that recognized she was still no more than thirteen and couldn't possibly live up to every expectation she and her village put on her shoulders, wished to remind the larger sum of her consciousness that she could still feel. There was a difference, it would chime into the silence and darkness that closed in around it, between being unable to and not wanting to.
She was getting a handle on herself, every step that met soft dirt and dug it up between her toes. It was a ... pleasant feeling, a minor indulgence she allowed herself as she walked and thought. It tossed through the opening of her sandles, leading eyes up to bland cargo pants that bled into the heavy blues of her vest & a similarly shaded hat resting atop a neat mop of blonde tresses. Her eyes remained steady ahead, alert with every inch of her frame for the smallest signs of danger or intrigue; it was another day, another restless sense of caution. She would never let up from that static, decisive paranoia that permeated her every movement. From the day she entered Kumogakure for the first time and wrapped her tiny, trembling fists around the hilt of her bat - The World - to today, angled expression directing her forwards both physically and metaphorically. Perhaps she wouldn't, that quiet voice would whimper & whine, just as she would never complain.
You don't ask why you live. You just do. You go through the motions - you do what you're told, you think what you should. You breathe the air they say, you eat what they give and you train what their regime demands. Then more. Again, again. It was a cold, relentless lifestyle, no more and no less than the gaze that her blue eyes directed through the shaded midday sun. It cut straight through, a precise and surgical stare. Why was she here? To clear her head? The air was brisk, not yet a chill but no more warming to the bare skin of her arms and legs. She had stepped away from her usual activities, leaving the beaten dummy in her schoolyard to lick its wounds for just one day so she could ... breathe?
She didn't need a break. She wasn't dissatisfied with her existence. She had no positive nor negative inclinations towards the matter at all. She was what she was, she did what she did, and she didn't appreciate so many questions clogging up that studious ladder of her brain.
Especially Not even from herself.
It spilt from the leaf of a shaky tree, the forest alight with dreamy incandescence. It was almost serene - Tenko couldn't say. That wasn't a concept she had ever been exposed to before now. The morning liquid ran down the length of her cheek, over the high crest of her cheekbone and tracing sluggishly across pale, healing scars from a distinctive set of claws. That was almost over, at least. She wouldn't admit she had thought back to that moment many a night since, not of fear but shame, yet it still haunted her now. Every sideways glance into a reflective surface reminded her that even she still had her weaknesses. That despite these weeks and months and years of excessive training - reducing her to no more than the ascetic creature she had become - there would be events she still wasn't yet prepared for and there would be consequences for each and every mistake.
Shinobi did not make mistakes. They were not meant to. A hushed noise, a swallowed sigh parting dry lips. She took another step into the wilderness, letting the maw of these glimmering fronds embrace her until she could disappear into their shadows. She lifted her water to her lips and took a swig, the cool touch enough to add light bits of color to her pallid features. Was this melancholy? Did she have access to that emotion? If not, what was it? Self pity? That thought was disgusting, but was disgust on her palette any more than misery? That small part of her, the girl that recognized she was still no more than thirteen and couldn't possibly live up to every expectation she and her village put on her shoulders, wished to remind the larger sum of her consciousness that she could still feel. There was a difference, it would chime into the silence and darkness that closed in around it, between being unable to and not wanting to.
She was getting a handle on herself, every step that met soft dirt and dug it up between her toes. It was a ... pleasant feeling, a minor indulgence she allowed herself as she walked and thought. It tossed through the opening of her sandles, leading eyes up to bland cargo pants that bled into the heavy blues of her vest & a similarly shaded hat resting atop a neat mop of blonde tresses. Her eyes remained steady ahead, alert with every inch of her frame for the smallest signs of danger or intrigue; it was another day, another restless sense of caution. She would never let up from that static, decisive paranoia that permeated her every movement. From the day she entered Kumogakure for the first time and wrapped her tiny, trembling fists around the hilt of her bat - The World - to today, angled expression directing her forwards both physically and metaphorically. Perhaps she wouldn't, that quiet voice would whimper & whine, just as she would never complain.
You don't ask why you live. You just do. You go through the motions - you do what you're told, you think what you should. You breathe the air they say, you eat what they give and you train what their regime demands. Then more. Again, again. It was a cold, relentless lifestyle, no more and no less than the gaze that her blue eyes directed through the shaded midday sun. It cut straight through, a precise and surgical stare. Why was she here? To clear her head? The air was brisk, not yet a chill but no more warming to the bare skin of her arms and legs. She had stepped away from her usual activities, leaving the beaten dummy in her schoolyard to lick its wounds for just one day so she could ... breathe?
She didn't need a break. She wasn't dissatisfied with her existence. She had no positive nor negative inclinations towards the matter at all. She was what she was, she did what she did, and she didn't appreciate so many questions clogging up that studious ladder of her brain.
Especially Not even from herself.
Twas a normal day in the lands of Lightning Country as the it had been for the past month or so after things had settled down after the announcement of who was going to the World Martial Arts Tournament to lead the Hidden Cloud to victory or die trying. Yes, things had been rather peculiar while the village had been trying to decide who was best suited and capable of performing on a world stage against representatives from the other villages, but those times had subsided and the country in general had been rather quite and peaceful aside from the random report of a student getting into trouble at the Academy or an older shinobi attempting to enter or leave the gates forcefully and possibly causing a gate incident. Due in part to this calmness and peaceful, the world outside of the gates had been at ease and there had not been too many random incidents occurring about seeing mythological creatures like Raijin or Raiden or a skirmish between civilians of the country.