Perceived
The glimpse of Tenten that Temari had gotten from their first interaction had left her wanting more. She replayed it in her mind over and over. Temari had been lonely for so long. It felt so exciting to have someone to look forward to spending time with again. As the days passed, Temari grew worried that she had gotten her hopes up again for nothing. Stupid. She could be so stupid. Her embarrassment quickly turned into a shameful rage for ever being so naive, especially after what happened with Shikamaru. She seethed.
Until Tenten shows up in her clearing more than a handful of days later. Her anger fades as soon as she sees the other girl. She is so beautiful in her spring temple maiden’s chiton. Temari feels heat rise to her cheeks. Is she blushing?
“Anyone there?” Tenten calls out, a smile across her face.
Temari’s own smile widened.
“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come back,” she shoots back, trying for a teasing tone and hoping it hits the mark.
She refuses to betray any of her worries from the previous days.
“If I didn’t come back, I wouldn’t be able to bring you this,” Tenten says, pulling out a small bundle wrapped in yellow cloth from her basket.
She presents a pastry on her palm.
“Honey cake,” she explains when Temari doesn’t say anything. “But we have to share.”
Temari’s eyes feel hot and start to sting, and a lump forms in her throat making it hard to speak. This girl… Tenten… brought her honey cake? She wants to share it with her? Temari was unable to remember the last time someone had been so kind to her, but that is a lie. She knows the last time… about 150 years ago.
“Next time I’ll bring a piece for each of us. I wanted to today, but I couldn’t find Neji before I left, so I could ask for his piece. He’ll always give it to me if I ask, so that shouldn’t be a problem next time.”
Temari swallows thickly. The floaty feeling that had begun filling her chest at the mention of sharing the dessert had started to deflate the second Tenten mentioned this other name.
“Neji must really like you if he’s always willing to give his piece to you,” Temari muses, hoping again to strike a casual, conversational tone.
Because why would it be anything but that? A casual conversation. She has no reason to feel any type of way about this new information. This is a friend. Barely that… an acquaintance.
Laughter rips out of Tenten almost violently. She nearly crushes the cake in her hand as she doubles down, body shaking with giggles. The outburst pulls Temari from her spiral.
“Neji?” Tenten asks between laughs. “Like me?”
Temari did not understand what was so funny, and not for the first time, she is grateful Tenten can’t see the expression on her face. Just as suddenly as the fit of laughter starts, it ends. Tenten wipes the tears from her eyes with her free hand as she stands up straight, holding the slightly smushed cake on her open palm.
“I’m not his type,” she says in a way that implies something more than just a preference in hair color. “Besides, Neji owes me.”
“For what?” Temari asks.
“It’s probably easier to list the things he doesn’t owe me for,” Tenten smirks. “He’s my closest friend, and we’ve been through a lot together.”
Temari recognizes the response for what it is – a deflection – and what it isn’t – an actual answer.
“Does he know you’re out here?”
“I told you your secret’s safe with me, and I meant that,” Tenten says, holding the piece to Temari. “This is safer with you though, I think.”
Tenten’s cheeks flush pink as Temari takes the dessert. Her own heartbeat is noticeable in her ears, and she isn’t sure how long it’s been like that.
“Thank you,” Temari says.
Gratitude tastes foreign and out of place yet like a favorite meal from childhood, long forgotten until years later, a mere taste on the tongue able to restore the memory of what was lost.
“I wanted to come back sooner,” Tenten says.
“Why didn’t you?”
Temari hates how vulnerable the question sounds leaving her lips. Why would she? That’s the better question.
“I got stuck on dish duty for DAYS because one of the girls whose turn it was fell ill. This was the first time I was able to sneak away since the last time I came to see you,” Tenten says. “Hopefully next time it won’t be so long between visits.”
Temari smiles, and she feels her snakes slither around her, feeling the happiness beginning to radiate from her like warmth from the sun. Tenten wants to keep visiting her.
“I’d like that,” Temari says. “Do you want to eat this cake by the river?”
“Only if we can dip our feet in while we do,” Tenten responds back.
With their feet in the running water and their butts on the riverbank, they share the piece of honey cake. The years Temari spent with no one to talk to but the snakes seemed obvious to her, navigating conversations in an awkward, stilted way, but Tenten either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Somehow, they ended up on the topic of siblings. Tenten didn’t have any, but she says that Neji is the closest thing she has to a brother, knowing each other since they were kids. Temari did have siblings, two in fact. Two brothers that she had not spoken out loud about in a very long time.
Temari speaks about them. She tells Tenten how Gaara loved to garden in the spring, and how Kankorou loved woodworking. She tells her how they spent late nights together in their father’s workshop, waiting for him to stumble home after wasting what little coin they did have on gambling or drink. The more she talks about her brothers, the more she realizes she isn’t necessarily remembering them, but the memories she has of talking about them the last time she met someone new.
“You really love them,” Tenten says after a long pause, offering Temari the last bite of cake.
“I do,” Temari says, nudging Tenten’s hand back towards her.
Tenten reaches out her free hand and grabs Temari’s, flipping her hand open so the palm is facing up and sets the last bite in the middle. Temari feels and then sees a couple snakes slithering closer to get a better look. She gently swats them away with her other hand. At least they were staying quiet.
“I brought this for you. The last bite is yours,” Tenten says, her light, unseeing eyes resting on Temari’s face and a smile across her lips.
Temari puts it in her mouth and chews gratefully.
“The last bite is always the best,” Temari says, her mouth full.
“That’s why I wanted you to have it,” Tenten says as her wide smile curls into a smirk.
Temari feels her cheeks flush. She is definitely blushing.
“Thank you Tenten,” she says after swallowing.
Tenten stands and the yellow cloth the cake was wrapped in falls from her lap. She extends a hand to Temari to help her up. Before taking it, Temari snatches up the cloth with her other hand.
“Anytime, Temari,” she says, helping her up. “I better get going before someone decides a dish needs washing.”
A pang of disappointment shoots through Temari’s chest at their time being cut short.
“That’s too bad. I was having such a good time,” she says, her tone coming out more teasing than truthful.
And yet, there is so much truth in her words.
“I was too,” Tenten says, her hand brushing against Temari’s as they walk back to the clearing where she entered.
Temari almost jerks her hand away – almost. Tenten’s hand brushes hers again, and this time, their pinkies catch.
“I’ll be back,” Tenten says, their pinkies now linked together.
“When?” Temari asks, the word shooting out.
“As soon as I can,” she says, then shrugs slightly. “I’m not sure though… at least a couple days.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Temari says, noticing the other girl’s gesture and realizing it's not the first time she’s seen her do it.
“Me too,” Tenten says.
After Tenten leaves, Temari is left spending the rest of the day trying to return to her routine, but she can’t. Throughout the day, she pulls out the yellow cloth the piece of cake was wrapped in, holding it up to her nose to inhale the sweet scents deeply. The overwhelming scent is the honey pastry, but the underlying scent is that of sweet hyacinths… a scent she’s caught off of Tenten when the breeze blows just right. Her snakes hiss judgmentally at her actions after the 3rd or 4th time.
She needs to be more careful. She was being too… eager. It was dangerous – for her, for Tenten, for everyone. Over the next few days, Temari tried – and mostly succeeded – to keep her thoughts from Tenten. She must keep her feelings in check. However, she often found herself subconsciously bringing the yellow cloth to her nose and inhaling before she could realize what she was doing.
One morning, one of her snakes – one that has always been rather troublesome – knocked the cloth from her hands into the river, thus ridding it of its sweet scents forever. In her anger, Temari had tied the wet cloth as a bandana around her head, binding the snakes in a collective timeout for the actions of one. She didn’t even care if it was unfair. The snakes made it overwhelmingly clear they thought it was unfair, but she didn’t relent on her punishment.
Less than a day later, Tenten wanders into her clearing once again, calling out with “anyone there?”
“Why do you always ask that?” Temari asks.
“Ask what?”
“‘Anyone there?’ You know this is my clearing by now,” Temari says, thinking of how she would like to show Tenten her home one day too.
“Oh,” Tenten smiles softly, almost sadly. “Lots of reasons. Maybe you wouldn’t want to see me, and that would give you an easy way to ignore me…”
Temari scoffs in disbelief.
“Like that would ever happen,” she mumbles.
She realizes what she did as soon as the words leave her mouth. She looks at Tenten who’s smiling in her direction.
“I’ll change my greeting from now on then,” Tenten says with a wide grin. “I brought pasteli this time.”
Temari hadn’t had the honey sesame candy since she was mortal… when she would eat it with her brothers in their father’s shop…. which she told Tenten about last time they were together.
“I figured it might be a nice memory of home,” Tenten says earnestly. “I hope that’s okay.”
Temari swallows thickly. She will not cry.
“More than okay,” she says.
Tenten’s stomach growls. Loudly. Tenten looks at the ground avoiding Temari’s gaze.
“Are they not feeding you at the temple?” Temari asks, unspoken anger permeating the edges of her words. Old memories prick at the edge of her thoughts.
“They are,” Tenten says, kicking her foot into the dirt like a child. “I just left without eating, so I could come see you sooner.”
Temari’s rising anger turned to frustration twinged with something she didn’t recognize.
“Don’t do that again,” she says, reprimanding the other girl who looked sheepish at best. Then she softens her tone and adds, “do you like fish?”
“I do,” Tenten says, looking up at Temari with her cloudy eyes through thick eye lashes.
Temari knows the other girl is blind. If she weren’t, she would already be stone by now. But more and more, her mannerisms remind Temari of someone who sees. The shrugging, the avoiding of gazes, the puppy dog eyes.
She wants to ask.
“Let me catch and cook a fish for you,” she says.
She doesn’t ask.
“Only if you catch one for yourself too,” Tenten says.
As they wait for the fish to cook, Temari’s mind keeps drifting back to her sneaking suspicion that Tenten wasn’t born blind. She knows it’s none of her business. Really, she does. She knows it’s rude to ask because again, it is none of her business. And yet… she wants to ask.
She manages to avoid asking, opting instead to let Tenten lead the conversation. Temari quickly notices Tenten has a way of being both open and closed off, navigating conversations in a way that always seems to benefit her. She speaks of her excitement about the warmer weather, the growing of the temple’s garden, and different sweets she would like to bring Temari in the future. The second the conversation lulls and a moment of silence stretches between them, Temari cannot help but break it.
“Were you born blind?” She asks.
She brings her palm to her forehead. Why did she ask like that?
“I–”
“No,” Tenten answers simply, cutting her off. Then adds,“How’s the fish?”
Temari may not have spoken to anyone besides her snakes in around 150 years, but she could still recognize an attempt to change the subject when she heard it.
“It’s done,” she says, pulling it off the pit.
She puts both fish on a woven wicker tray.
“It smells delicious,” Tenten says. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Anything,” Temari says, realizing just how much she means it.
“Can I have the more burnt fish?” she says shyly. “The charred parts are my favorite.”
Temari laughs.
“You can have whatever you want,” she tells the other girl as she turns the tray so the burnt fish is in front of her.
Temari looks up at Tenten only to see that her cheeks are tinged pink.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tenten says smirking, gently catching Temari’s hand on the side of the tray before moving to start eating the fish.
Temari feels her own cheeks flush, and a few of her snakes move around her head, tongues flicking the air. She squirms slightly at the blind girl’s attention. There had been no one. For decades. And now, there is someone. Someone beautiful and kind. Someone she should — and yet cannot — stay away from. Someone she will only hurt.
More time passes between visits, much more time than between the first two. This time, however, Temari isn’t left wondering whether or not Tenten would come back because she knows she will. It’s too early to give a name to this sense of certainty she feels, but she recognizes the embers for what they are. She continues to wear Tenten’s forgotten cloth as a headwrap, but it morphs from serving as a punishment for her snakes to a reminder of her new connection. Temari touches it when she thinks of her, which is more often than even she is aware of.
Each time she passes Shikamaru’s statuesque self, a pang of guilt radiates throughout her chest. She isn’t forgetting him… she could never do that. She isn’t moving on, either. The memory of him felt lodged in her, like a splinter overtaken by skin. She isn’t moving on… she isn’t, because if she is, isn’t that the same as forgetting?
It’s late spring by the next time Tenten is able to come visit her. Temari’s garden has fully come into itself, now nearly two full moons since she planted the seeds. She is walking amongst the plants, reaching to inspect a growing tomato when Tenten stumbles into the clearing, holding her forehead with one hand and her flowing chiton with the other.
“Do you have anything for a cut?” she calls out.
Temari quickly rushes to her to inspect the damage.
“Of course I do,” she says. “Let me see it first.”
Before Tenten can drop her hand, Temari is grabbing her wrist to gently move it away. Temari feels Tenten’s heartbeat speed up underneath her fingers as she examines the small cut across her forehead. It was deep enough to draw blood, but not deep enough to drip.
“I ran into a branch,” Tenten answers the question before Temari could ask it.
Temari leads Tenten to a spot just outside her hut where she can sit as Temari goes inside to gather her supplies. As she walks back with her hands full towards Tenten, she sees her shiver. She turns back inside to grab a blanket for the other girl.
Now, with Tenten wrapped in a blanket she wove sometime in the last few decades, Temari begins to work. She grinds herbs with her mortar and pestle, the sound of the stone scraping filling the air. Tenten sits contentedly despite the cut on her head. Temari can’t help but stare at her, her round face looking at ease with a slight smile on her lips. Once the herbs are ground, she grabs a pinch and sprinkles it over the small bowl of honey she brought with her. After mixing it well, she lets the bowl sit. She turns to Tenten after picking up the cloth she had soaked in vinegar.
“This is going to sting,” she says.
Tenten nods slightly in acknowledgement and Temari presses the wet cloth to her forehead, gently cleaning the wound. Tenten doesn’t even flinch. Temari makes sure not to get any of the dripping liquid in her eyes by holding a dry cloth over them. When she finishes, she lets the wound air dry before applying the herbal honey mixture.
“You’re really good at this,” Tenten says, gently breaking the silence.
Temari looks at her as she pulls the blanket around herself.
“Did you take care of your brothers like this?” Tenten asks.
The mention of her brothers sucks the air out of her lungs.
“I’m sure there were lots of injuries to tend to between a gardener and a woodworker,” she adds.
Temari knows that Tenten knows of them. She is the one that told her, afterall. But for some reason, she hadn’t thought that Tenten would remember. Especially not the details.
“I did,” Temari says, trying to steady her breathing. “Thanks for remembering.”
She gently spreads the mixture over the cut.
“I want to remember everything you tell me,” Tenten says softly, the way someone utters a prayer.
Temari is at a loss for words, but Tenten doesn’t seem to expect any in return.
After, Temari is staring at Tenten as she lies on her back, eyes open towards the sky as if she’s watching the clouds. This must have been something she enjoyed from her time before being blind. Temari wants to ask her so many questions.
“You can ask,” Tenten says, eyes not straying from the sky.
Temari startles from her reverie.
“Ask what?”
“What happened to me to make me like this?”
Temari cringes at Tenten’s words, phrased almost as if she’s the monster.
“What happened?”
Tenten takes a deep breath. She sits up and then leans back on her hands, exhaling.
“I looked at a pretty girl too long,” she answers in jest, but Temari can hear the truth lacing the words.
“Is that how you ended up at the temple?” she asks.
Tenten nods.
“That was about 5 years ago… I was 15,” she says.
She was about 4 years younger than Temari when she first arrived at the temple all those years ago.
“I’m sorry,” Temari says, not knowing why.
“Don’t be,” Tenten says. “That’s someone else’s job.”
Temari wants to say something, but she is still getting used to conversations again.
“I like to look at pretty girls too,” Temari blurts.
Was that even true? She likes to look at Tenten, and she was definitely a pretty girl. She cringes but keeps her eyes focused on Tenten to see her reaction. To Temari’s surprise, Tenten looks… happy? No, that’s not quite it. Relieved, maybe? Temari wasn’t sure, but it was some mixture of positive emotions painted across her soft features.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tenten smirks, stretching languidly.
Flames fill Temari’s cheeks, flushing her face. Tenten starts to rise, offering a hand to Temari once she’s up.
“I should get back before they realize I’m nowhere to be found,” she says, disappointment clear.
“This is my least favorite part,” Temari says, her heart speaking for her.
“Mine too,” Tenten says, reaching out and squeezing Temari’s hands. “Until next time.”
“Until next time,” Temari squeezes back.