Summary: Tenten always liked numbers. She liked them beyond just statistics and mathematics; she liked numbers for the meaning behind them. Drabbleish, slight Nejiten.

Disclaimer: Toboe LoneWolf does not own Naruto. Or the number seven. Not that anyone can own a number.

Toboe LoneWolf: …I have an obsession with the number seven and the significance of numbers in general. For instance, did you notice that "Perfection" has exactly 10 letters? XP (It has significance to this fic, trust me.)


Perfection

Tenten had an obsession with numbers.

…It wasn't like it was a bad thing. It helped her in her calculations in the physics of Soshoryou, the statistical possibilities of decisions during missions, the time it took to forge a katana, the aerial arc needed to hit a target seventy paces behind you at a thirty degree angle…

It was the numbers that made her famous. Everyone knew her as the "kunoichi who can hit ten out of ten targets, every time;" the way she could rattle off the answer to an aerodynamics question in three seconds (it used to be five, until her battle with Temari, and afterwards she strived to lower that time), and she racked up the number of missions she perfectly completed.

Tenten smiled as she dipped her brush in the inkwell before carefully stroking the brush down on fresh paper, beginning a new glyph for her scrolls. Slowly the completed the strokes, forming the kanji for kusari fuubou – the chain wind staff. It was a good weapon, useful for strangling or tripping opponents, and it had more lethal whip action than the three-part staff.

She liked them. Numbers amused her, almost just as much as her beloved weapons. More than just the math they involved but also the associations they had in divination.

When she saw the twin dragons her summoning scrolls released as she did Soshoryou, she thought it only appropriate, as two was the number of balance.

She found it sadly ironic that Lee's infamous battle with Gaara in the chuunin preliminaries was the ninth one; for nine was the number of ending, and fell one short of the number of true completeness. But nine was three squared, and the sum of three thrice, and three was number of magic.

And it was also ironic that her own preliminary battle was the fifth. For five was under the sign of Mercury, and after doing extensive research on her formidable opponent after she lost, she found that Temari was a Virgo, and thus was under Mercury's sign. And, she thought wryly, five was the number of healing and growth, which she'd had to do a lot of afterwards.

Carefully she moved the paper over to a new area, dipping her brush once more. This time her brush made the kanji for a fumma shuriken. She liked those – large and formidable on sight, with large whirling blades that shined. She had a liking for sharp, shiny things.

Perhaps contrary to anyone who would ask her, Tenten's favorite number was not the number ten.

Her absolute favorite number was seven.

Seven, the number of perfection and sealing. Associated with the color violet and the planet Neptune. It was her number; she was born on March 9 under the sign of Pisces, a water sign, which was ruled by the planet Neptune. A number of creation and completion, like the way she could create dragons in smoke to finish a battle. A number of sealing, like the seals she wrote on her scrolls. A number of perfection, like the idol she pursued. Seven, the perfect number.

She always strove a little bit harder, hoped a bit more, at the seventh try. She always thought there was something special at the seventh occasion. The seventh kunai she forged; the seventh time she got Neji to smile, the seventh time she killed.

Not that ten wasn't a nice number. It was, but it was only her second-favorite number.

Now she wrote a new kanji on the scroll paper. A new weapon she'd devised, an explosive laced with knives. Lee's eyes had opened even wider when she'd tested it, and then promptly began a heartfelt speech on the wondrousness of youth and spirit and its inventiveness. She remembered she'd stuffed ten knives on her first prototype, although now they sported a full rack of twenty one daggers. She might try adding more.

Ten was the number of completion as well – the completion of order, the number of divine order.

Ten was Neji's number.

Ten was the summation of six and four, the digits of the number of strikes in the infamous main family jutsu Neji had mastered by himself. Ten was the number of intelligence, like the genius prodigy of the Hyuugas. Ten was the number of white, like his piercing white eyes that could see right through you.

Redipping her brush, she started forming the glyph for a pair of tonfas. They were good, solid, hefty weapons, useful in close combat. She liked the way she could whirl them in her hands, the long rods spinning together – perhaps in opposite directions, but in the same intent.

Seven and ten were good numbers, she thought.

Seven was the sum of five and two, the factors of ten. They were separated by three, the magical number. Seven, ten; the number of physicality, the number of divinity. They were both numbers of perfection and completion, each in their own way. Perfection and completion. They were nice together.

Tenten liked to think that Neji and her were nice together as well, sometimes.

She smiled as she came to the end of the scroll. Dipping her brush for the last time, she formed the katakana that marked her name. Tenten. Twice heaven.

It took ten strokes.