Title: The Nobody Girl
Pairing: KisaTen
Rating: M (Adult Themes and naughty language)
Summary: For years, she has just blended in with the crowd. When she finally kills her teammates and becomes an outlaw, will she ever be able to find peace with herself? KisaTen
Comments: Crack couples are love. And Tenten and Kisame are lacking a larse shipping fanbase. I have no regrets. BWAHAAHAHAHA!!
Warnings: Adult themes. Sexual Hints (limes). Naughty Language. Nothing HORRIBLE...I mena, I've written much worse.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Won't someone donate to this lowly author?

The Nobody Girl

Here is a cheerful little fact:

You are going to die.

I have known this for most of my life, but never realized the certainty of it until I first became a ninja. We were told, as children, the life of a ninja was hard, yet followed a simple guideline.

You train.

You fight.

You die.

The end.

As harsh as those few words may be, it was my duty, to myself, and to my village, to accept them without question if I was to become a successful kunoichi. Keeping to myself, hiding in the shadows…

This was the easiest part for me. Not because I was especially skilled in hiding or secrecy, I wasn't, but I was a face that could have been anyone's. To most people, I was barley visible. I was merely part of the background, not noticeable. Not of any particular value.

Well, to the majority.

A majority of which included my teammates.

It was as if I appeared before them one day, with nothing more than a:

"Hi, my name is Tenten, and I like weapons"

They left it at that. Neither of them even inquired my clan name or my age or anything of that sort. But it was okay, because they already knew me.

They knew me as "the average girl", at least. The same as any other nameless brown-eyed brunette girl.

That was how I liked it. Keeping a low profile was essential for ninjas. For three years, I kept one. Three long, painful, lonely years.

Until, one day, something unusual happened.

Staying silent for so long…it does things to you.

Here is another interesting fact:

Blood that comes from your friends' veins seems to stain much worse than your enemies' does.

But it came off eventually.

Sort of.

Not quite.

It did not matter much at the time. A few weeks past and my attire had completely changed.

Then, the colors...

Red, White, and Black.

I did not look good in black. However, the outfit did have a sort of eerie security. It scared me at first; it being so comfortable…as if I had been meant to wear it my whole life.

My father had quickly forgotten me. Disowned me. My mother refused to believe I could do such a thing. Nothing was confirmed at the scene of the slaughter, but my body was the only one that was not there. I had disappeared. They classified me as dead.
I hid in shadows at my own funeral.

My father was emotionless. My mother cried.

Her final words were ridiculous.

"What has happened has happened"

You see?

Even death has a sense of humor.

Things have happened since then.

A lot of things.

I knew what my duties were. They were what I used to think were degrading, disgusting, undignified…

But, compared to the others' strength, I was otherwise useless. I didn't mind. It gave me a purpose, for once.

And with them…

Keeping your contemplations and history to yourself was mandatory. Nobody cared about your past. They would accept you.

And that…

…that truly felt like home.

It was my third week when things started to get interesting.

I had stepped in quietly, as I always had, and slid the door behind me shut. My usual visitor was waiting for me. I had begun to wonder why the others had slowly stopped coming, but I dismissed those thoughts quickly.

The lights were off. It was quiet. Except…

His breathing was louder than usual. I almost said his name as in question of his unusual behavior, but he spoke first.




He had a habit of calling me that.

I responded by taking my usual place on the other side of the bed. We were still. After a moment, he proceeded.

This would be my seventh time.

In movies or magazine, losing your virginity is beautified. It's made to be this wonderful, passionate, glorious experience.

In reality, it is messy, painful, and gross.

I was good at hiding my discomfort at the time.

It gets better after awhile.

At least, it's supposed to.

When he was done, we lay beside each other…stiff, motionless. It was peaceful. I lingered a moment before readying myself to get up and leave.

That's when things got peculiar.

He spoke to me.

He asked me my age.

I sat up and rose and eyebrow at him. All the times we had been together, he had never asked me more than my first name. We had a rather informal business-like relationship. It consisted of:

I went to him.

He did what he wanted.

I left.

I wondered what could have caused him to speak to me. Out of curiosity, I humored him.

"Sixteen." I said.

He was quiet. I began to wonder if he had even heard me, but he finally spoke.

"…you're just a fuckin' kid..."


He didn't sound as if he believed me. My cheeks grew red.

"How old did you think I was?"


"Legal," he chuckled.


I didn't know if I should be flattered he thought I was an adult or angry he was making fun of me.
I chose the latter and left.

But that time came again.

It always did.

I had a job to do, after all.

It was unusual. The next night the same thing happened. Just as I was about to leave, he spoke to me.

He asked me my age again.

I told him I was sixteen.

He laughed and turned to his side, away from me.

"I thought you were just fucking with me, yesterday." he said.

In an attempt of pathetic humor, I added,

"I was,"

He laughed again. It was low and cold. It reminded me of my father's expression at my funeral. I shuddered; I did not like it at all. It had a sort of unusual deviousness that left a fearful aura in the air. I quickly began talking again.

"How old are you?"

He didn't answer me at first. He shook me off.

"Old enough,"



I felt as if it was of vital importance for me to find out.

The next few days went by fast, like a blur. Every other night or so, I would return after a day of nothing.

You see, my new…family, well…

Let's just say we were a tad dysfunctional. It consisted of S-ranked criminals. Criminals who had done much worse things than I had.

My duties were that of any woman's that were surrounded by lawless chauvinistic men.

To be precise:



Nightly "Room Service."

Even grown men, sinisterly illicit or not, had humanistic needs. It was indeed degrading. Humiliating. Backbreaking. But I didn't care.

It wasn't like I had a better option to chose from.

There were rings.

When I came to them, they gave me one, too. It fit snugly between my chest and my shirt; I had placed it around a neck chain.

It resembled everybody elses'…red, black…

In the center…

Just red.

There was no symbol left for me. I did not contribute enough to gain one.

However, I did not mind. It suited me perfectly.

Me, the background figure. The nothing. The Nobody Girl.

On my fourth week, I had begun to grow restless. My routine was too regulated. It was becoming so the only time another human acknowledged my existence was a few times during the day, and at night.


I slipped quietly in, as always, and slipped in bed. We were still for several moments. He finally broke the silence.

"I don't want to do anything tonight,"

I turned my head.

"Should I leave?"

I was quiet as I waited patiently for his response. It finally came.


I was confused, but I stayed. I became even more confused when he continued talking.

He asked me things.

Simple things.

"Were you born in Konoha?"

"How long were you in the academy?"

"Were your parents both ninja?"

He asked me one after another, and each time I gave him a simple, yet prompt, answer.


Six Years.


Simple things. I began to feel as if we were introducing ourselves for the first time; he was asking me questions you would ask a person you were just now trying to get to know.

I felt obligated to ask him questions about himself, but each one he replied with an answer that didn't much answer anything at all. Much similar to his "Old Enough." response.

It was strange.

The next night, the same thing happened.

He didn't feel like doing anything to me.

He just talked that night.

And the next night.

And the next.

Eventually, I just came to him expecting a loose conversation and nothing more. The questions became more personal gradually. And, in my opinion, a tad silly. But I never left. I humored him.

I think he never really got to talk to anyone much in his life.

I wouldn't doubt that.

All of his questions were really straightforward. No matter how silly and irrelevant I thought they were, he always delivered them with a straight face. A serious face.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Do you have any hobbies?"

"Why are you here?"

Gradually, my answers became longer. I think that was his intention, to keep me talking. I wasn't aware why, but it seemed harmless enough.


I enjoy astrology and fortune telling.

Because you expect me to come every night.

He shook his head at my last answer.

"I mean, what did you do?"


I thought a moment.

"I killed my teammates and sensei and fled."

He was quiet a moment. I was, too. I didn't really have anything else to add to that.

Finally, he spoke.


Even though I knew he couldn't see me, I rose an eyebrow. I almost felt sorry for him. Underneath his scary, cold exterior, he was really begging for some company. Even mine.

I decided it wouldn't hurt to tell him.

"Chain." I said simply. "It was a trap. Sliced all of them into pieces."

His response was a low chuckle.

"You're sick."

I could tell, even though I couldn't see his face, that he was grinning. I exhaled.

"What about you? What did you do?"

He didn't answer at first, he was still chortling. Finally, he stopped and answered, with a neutral voice,

"Too much."

God, that pisses me off.

Weeks turned into months. Eventually, I just stopped keeping count altogether on the days since my team's death. Since I became an outlaw.

I roamed a lot more as time passed. Although I was still new and under surveillance, if I basically left the others be and went about my own duties, I could find time to stray from the base.

They didn't care much, I wasn't a threat. Not that I wanted to be.

I visited Konoha once.

The outskirts, at least. There was less security. Besides, I wasn't interested in the town.

I went to visit my teammate's graves.

Lined, in a row. Like three little fence posts.

Neji Hyuuga.

Rock Lee.

Maito Gai.

Someone had come a day or so ago. There were flowers set at the foot of each poles, they were a faded yellow and had begun to wilt. I was surprised Neji hadn't been buried closer to the Hyuuga estate.

I laughed to myself.

If I had a headstone next to the three, what would it say?

Would they even bother putting my surname? Did anyone in this village even know my surname? To them, I'm Tenten.

Just Tenten.

I heard a rustle form behind.

People were coming.

I hid myself quickly, yet close enough to see who it was. The figure moved slowly, it was a few minutes before it came into focus.

The girl stepped up to Neji's grave.


The cousin of a boy who I had killed.

I couldn't place why, but being there…seeing here look resourceful at the plot of earth at her feet…

I felt I did not belong there.

Tears make the air taste horrible.

I told him where I had gone the next night.

He laughed.

"Returning to the scene of the crime, eh?" he asked.

It grew silent.

"How old are you?" I asked.

He did not answer. I grew persistent.

"It's only fair you tell me,"

I knew neither of us gave two shits about fairness. To my surprise, however, he actually answered my question for once.


Almost twice my age.

"You're old." I stated.

Well, he was.

"With age comes wisdom." he put simply. I grinned.

"You must have been a pretty dumb kid,"

"You've got some nerve," he replied shortly. I still had a grin plastered across my face.

It's funny.

Somewhere along the line, I didn't even realized we had stopped being acquaintances and started acting like normal people.

When did I get so comfortable with him?

You've probably taken notes of the few facts I've been giving out.

Here's another one you probably could have guessed by now.

I had never really had a real friend until about now.


Well, sort of.

Closest thing to one I've ever had, at least.

You know what else?

I think I was his first, too.

Time went on.

68 days into the year, I turned seventeen.

Was it March 9th already?

If that was correct, then I would have been a fugitive for four months, 6 days.

It was my birthday…but…

It didn't feel like it at all.

Well, until he surprised me.

He thrust the package, which was poorly wrapped and held together with tape and brown paper, into my hands. I looked at it curiously, then at him. He avoided my eyes.

"…happy birthday, I guess." he mumbled quietly. It was obvious he didn't want to make that much of a deal out of it, so I accepted the package with a short thanks.

A very simple, basic, run of the mill act of friendship. Something friends did for friends everyday.


This felt different.

My gaze was nonchalant. It had hardened with my heart through the months I had been a wanted criminal. But on the inside…

On the inside, I was grinning.

I opened it in secret.

My grin finally leaked out; I was grateful no one was around to see how foolish I looked.

It was a scroll. A horoscope/fortune telling scroll, to be precise. It was the first gift I had ever gotten from a friend. It felt good.

I would be sure to find out his birthday, too. Not to mention a good idea for a gift, too.
It was a good thing he was actually starting to talk to me. Otherwise, it would have been exceedingly difficult to know where to start. He wasn't exactly the easiest man to shop for.

He began speaking more openly the following night. Which was a great relief, and for some odd reason, it made me very happy. Which, of course, was even stranger, because …well, I'm not happy very often.

I took advantage of his new openness. I asked him every question he had ever asked me. His answers were still a little cloudy, so it was hard to gather anything of use.

I found out his blood type. AB.

I found out his favorite food. Sesame Dango.

(I pointed out to him that we shared the same favorite food. He didn't seem interested)

I found out his birthday. 77 days into the year. March 18th.

Nine days after mine.

I asked him what he wanted. He shook his head and told me not to get him anything. He said he was too old for birthday presents.

"But you're not too old to give them out?" I asked playfully. He laughed.

"Don't bother. Really." he responded.

It was quiet for a moment. I couldn't stop thinking…

I asked him why he got me a gift.

He didn't answer. I was going to ask again, but I was stopped when I heard the soft breath moving rhythmically.

He was asleep.

Now, I know this may seem foolish to you, but…

I spent a good portion of the night sitting up, just watching him sleep. I was trying to see him.

I mean, figure him out. He was very strange indeed.

He was not handsome.

Well, maybe a little. In his own, rather strange, way…

He was not very friendly.

Well, to most people. Recently, he had been rather kind to me…

He was not a "prince charming", so to speak.

Yes, that was it.

He was very different.

In a good way.

I fell asleep with a stupid smile on my face.

Most of the time, I note how people can be so ridiculous and petty. I have no room to talk. Underneath my solid exterior, I'm…

Well, I'm just a silly



He told me about his past one day. About how he became what he was now. About how his village called him a monster. About how he was alone.

I felt like crying.

I didn't, though.

Good thing, too. He would have made fun of me. Up until now, I had only told him the surface of who I was. I had never told him of how I wore a mask. How nobody ever knew me. How they looked through me.

How I was the Nobody Girl.

He listened quietly. He really listened, too. He listened for as long as I talked. When I was done, he was quiet.

I wasn't making any noise, so he didn't hear me. But he somehow knew.

He somehow knew my refugee tears escaped. Tears that had been locked up for over Three long years. He didn't say anything. He didn't make fun of me.

He let me cry.

I fell asleep soon after. I can never be sure, but I could have sworn I heard him whisper almost inaudibly,

"It's okay. It's alright…"

On his birthday I gave him my home-made Sesame Dango. He said he didn't want it. I pretended to be offended. After bickering for a few minutes, we settled on a compromise.

We shared lunch that day.

I think it tasted better that way.

And, secretly, I think he thought so, too.

Time passed. Three grave markers began fraying at the edges. The air changed.




After that, I lost track.

It got hot.

Summer was a blur. However, I do remember bits an pieces. Nothing important, though.

Well, one thing.

It wasn't really important, but I know it was a good thing.

He held my hand.

For only a moment. But he had grabbed it and squeezed it reassuringly one day when we were outside, sitting under a tree.

We had been talking. I told him he was my first real friend. He laughed and told me Criminals don't have friends. Only accomplices. I grinned.

"You're my best accomplice." I said jokingly. He laughed.

Then he held my hand.

It was only a few seconds. A quick squeeze, then release. My face grew hot. Well, hotter.

Summer days were so tedious.

One night, he was in a playful mood.

"What's your biggest secret?" he asked.

I laughed.

"What makes you think I have one?" I replied. He grinned.

"Because everybody does." I turned my head to him.

"You tell me yours first." I said.

"Nah," he said. I rolled my eyes.

I acted indifferent.

But, in reality…I really wanted to know.

I pestered him about it for the next few nights. Each time he said no. I even offered to share mine first, but he refused to give way.

That's got to one pretty damn juicy secret. And, of course, you know the more something is kept from you, well…

It kind of gets to you eventually. I wanted to strike a deal. I told him I would do him a favor if he told me.

He said no.

That really got on my nerves.

Winter came sooner than I expected. It was as if I had completely skipped fall. My concept of time had become horrible.

I didn't care much.

I was more aloof.

I was faster.

I was stronger.

Much stronger.

Oh, did I forget to mention?

We both began training together a long while ago. He was, and still is, much stronger than me. But I was improving quickly.

Come to think about it, if Neji or Lee were still alive, I could probably beat them easily with one hand tied behind my back.


I've improved that much.

No joke.

He even complimented me. I grinned.

It's strange. I never started acting like a real girl until after the incident all those months ago.

I had always just been…

A shell, so to speak.

This was a nice change of pace.

That night, I told him my secret. I didn't even mention his. I felt like I could tell him. And as always, he listened.

"You know," I said. "It was an accident"

He looked up at me from his side of the bed. I could tell he was waiting for me to continue. I did.

"The trap," I continued. "It wasn't for them." I breathed in deeply.

He waited.

I exhaled.

"I had thought about it, though. Killing them, I mean. I was never actually planning on doing it for real, though"

It was quiet.

He spoke.

"Who was it for, then?" he asked.

I grinned.

"Me," I said.

Yeah, that's right.

I wanted to go out with a bang.

We both fell asleep laughing that night.

It was comforting, in a sick way.

A fact:

People, like most things, change.

Another Fact:

People make mistakes.

I've made mine. I've paid for mine.

People are not, however, the only things that change.

The world, in general, does.

That winter, I visited Konoha.

I left flowers.

Three of them, to be exact.

I said my goodbyes. I said my apologies. I made my peace.

I can never be sure, but…

I think I heard them say farewell to me in return. I left nothing behind but the three modest offerings and my small trail of footprints.

That was the last time I would ever visit my former team.

That night, he asked me why I had told him my secret. My answer was simple.

"I trust you enough,"

He was silent for a few moments. When he finally spoke, I could feel an aura of peace in his voice.

"I can tell you mine, if you'd like." he said.

I didn't lie.

"I would like to know."

He grinned. I had never really noticed how sharp he teeth were until recently.

"It has to do with a seventeen-year-old girl." he said.

My interest rose.

"Really, now?" I asked. He was still grinning. "Do tell."

He was chuckling under his breath. I waited patiently.

"I think," he started. "I am in love with her."

I couldn't help it.

My cheeks burned.

I couldn't suppress my grin.

It was ridiculous of me, I realize. I spoke softly.

"I know."

I reached for his hand and squeezed. His palm felt warm and damp.

"Tenten and Kisame," I said.

"A match made in hell," he chuckled.

We began our routine laughing. We were always laughing together.

A quick little fact:

Laughter, as I have been told, is the best medicine. I fell asleep that night with him holding me.

Change, I decided, is good.

I wish you all a long and happy life.