Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Pretty Little Hate Machine ❯ Ch 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, and honestly I would probably never have the creative capacity to think of something even close. Kudos to Masashi Kishimoto!

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Pretty Little Hate Machine

Chapter 2
[Revised: 2-13-06]

By: Forgetmenow
Spoilers: TV and manga are fair game

 

As Temari closed the door, she leaned heavily against it. The wood was hard and solid behind her, supporting her weight. Her arms were limp at her sides. The palms were open, feeling the uneven surface of the un-sanded door; reaffirming it's solidity as if it would disappear and she would tumble backwards into the room and possibly awaken her slumbering brother. She gave a deep sigh. The brief nap she had only managed to convince her body that she was indeed exhausted after the journey, yet her head was pounding with. She wrapped one arm over her abdomen and massaged her temples with her other hand. She worked the skin between her fingers and thumb till the throbbing in her head ebbed. The conclusion of their actions finally sank in. Her body slumped more heavily against the oak portal.

Mission failed.

The taste of failure was bitter on her tongue. Gaara had achieved the perfect form in order to crush Konoha. Instead of gloating over the feat, the three had eventually fled. It wasn't successful, so what other result could it be? It made her stomach clench. She had this terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, a sick feeling in her gut, a dreadful feeling. A sense of lack of self worth weighed down her heart as well. She felt worthless. Useless.

She would've sworn that she knew what was best -- she knew what was right. She thought Gaara could handle anything. She was wrong. She had known all along, but she was just fooling herself. She had been selfish. Gaara was beaten. Defeated. He had been a limp weight over Kankurou's shoulders. Seeing him in such a weakened state - - like now, laying strides away on the other side of the wooden barrier --her duty to her village, her family, her baby brother had never been so clear.

She wished she could go back and make things different. Maybe there was something she could've done. Just a little added effort and the outcome would've been different.

Maybe they came out better in the end though. For a mission of that magnitude, they came back uncaptured and alive. That was something to rejoice about. Though she knew the three of them wouldn't be quite the same as they originally were going in on this assignment.

She pushed herself from the door and made her way down the hall. She had to shower before she went to bed. She was dirty. She had two days worth of filth on her. Dust and dirt clung to her body, especially adhering to the perspiration on her person which had eventually dripped or evaporated from her skin. Stepping into the bathroom, she swung the door close behind her. The door nearly closed before it popped open slightly ajar when the force of her push did not completely shut the door into place. Temari looked over her shoulder and shrugged at the gap in the doorway before turning back around.

Arrg!...Too lazy to close….

With all that's happened, for once she wanted to make a sloppy action, not have to worry about the consequences of her moves. She wanted to be carefree like the Leaf nin seemed to be. To do something careless, and not have it's consequences be a mortal decision.

The bathroom was typical: stark and sterile-looking. Plain. It was white and clean, decorated in ivory tiles: unusual, considering the general drab exterior and interior of the rooms and building itself. However, it was large and spacious. In a corner, was the bathtub, which could double as a shower. It had two sliding glass doors, which appealed to Temari more than shower curtains. The tub was a pleasing size, large enough to accommodate more than one person and still be perfect for longs soaks. The other side had the sink, toilet, and vanity. Towels hung on a towel rack attached to the wall.

Temari got down on her knees, rummaging through the drawers beneath the sink. Under the sink cupboard was where she found it. Hidden behind a small wall of stacked rolled toilet paper was Temari's bath basket. It was filled with shampoo, aromatic salt and oils of varying shapes but mostly the same general size, and her loofah! In triumph, Temari smiled to herself.

No girl is complete without her loofah!

Setting the basket down within easy reach, she began to take off her clothes. She disrobed till all her clothes lay in a pool around her feet. Still having a sense of shyness and embarrassment of her nude, feminine form, she crossed one arm over her breasts. She put her other palm on the glass and slid the door open.

Temari turned on the shower, testing the water with her other hand, then stepped in and slid it closed. With her back to the sprouting water, she threw her head back, letting the falling cascade soak her hair. Her hair, unbound and loose from when she had removed the hair ties in the bedroom, hung midway down her back, like a dark gold river. She ran her hands through her dripping hair, slicking it back. The water beat against her back. She turned around letting the water hit the top of her face. The hot water rained down on her. The water beaded and trailed down her face.

Steam rose around her and began to fill the room. The heat seeped into her pores, into her muscles, into her tired bones. She gave an appreciative groan as she pressed her head against the cool tile. She couldn't remember the last time a shower felt so good. The water beat against her shoulders and the back of her neck. The exhaustion was washed clean away.

She used the loofah to scrub her body clean of grime and muck. The water rinsed them away and dragging them down a swirley drain through the old pipes. Temari scrubbed, shampooed, and conditioned till she knew the dried results would be soft, honey-blonde hair and smooth tan skin. In here, she didn't have to think. She could just do. It was cleansing and cathartic.

At one point she, she noticed a chill despite the warm steam and hot water. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck, though damp, stood upright. With bubbles and soap in her eyes, she couldn't see clearly. Protectively crossing both arms over her chest, she put her face inline with the spouting downfall then pulled out. The water streamed down her face. It clung in thick drops on her lashes. For a moment her vision was blurry and even worse than when she had soap in her face. Temari whipped her head to the look through the glass. The bathroom door hung wide open. She pressed her arms more tightly to her chest. She knew that she had left the door ajar, but not that much!

Could the steam have pushed the door open? Does steam do that? She shook her head, then thought again. Possibly..?

With a shaky voice, one that she couldn't even recognized as her own, “Is someone there?”

The only response that replied back was empty silence.

Did Gaara's wake up and come looking for Kankurou or me? Her voice sounded more normal, but perhaps a little high-pitched. “Gaara…? Is that you?”

Still no answer.

Temari was relieved and at the same time disappointed.

 

(TO BE CONTINUED…)

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Originally, this chapter was going to be much-much longer, but I split it up and uploaded what I was more-or-less satisfied with.

 

Sorry for the lateness, I've been on hiatus cuz of the the flu and now I am sick again. Everyone I know has been, is, or in contact with someone who is sick. I don't consider myself a sickly person. When I do get sick, I just want to veg out and do nothing. I may edit this ch depending on how the next chapter evolves.

 

Thanks for your support!