Only Training

The initial shock had made her numb, but now the situation seemed inescapably huge, much like the vast compound she stood before. Neji was a few paces ahead of her, but turned to see why she had paused. Tenten swallowed.

“Just training,” she whispered before moving on, eyes averted to the hardwood floors. Her footsteps echoes tandem with his as they proceeded along the covered outdoor halls, passing many a parchment door. Neji pivoted to face one, sliding it aside. She briefly noted the creamy bamboo pattern on the sallow paper.

“Yours,” he said pithily, yet politely. In their six years of personal acquaintanceship, Neji had spoken pithily any and every time. In the last four, he had spoken politely as well. Tenten appreciated the change greatly, and did nothing to dissuade his familiarity. She nodded in response presently, trying to wet her impossibly dry cheeks with an impossibly dry tongue. He took her pack of possessions, and brought them inside the little room. She followed.

There was a modest dresser by one wall, a modest futon roll by the other, and a desk near the last, with a cup full of pencils and drawer of paper. She smiled to herself, knowing that Neji pulled a few strings for her. She was lucky if it was the only special treatment she received from this experience. At the very least, it was only Neji she was serving. That, she could be thankful for.

“There are clothes in the dresser,” he said, pulling her from her thoughts. A hand on the doorframe, the other hidden beneath his white sleeve, Neji gave her a brief and expectant look.

“Thank you, Neji-sama. I should wear them later,” she replied, bowing shortly. He let his lips rise for the barest of moments, showing his approval.

“Very good.” he advised.

“What shall I call you, Neji-sama?” she asked, her voice placid and warm, as she heard the other servants speak.

“That’s fine,” he said, perhaps intending to have her stroke his ego a bit, even gently. Tenten would have commented, but her current position prevented it. “But our target may want something different.”

“Very well, Neji-sama,” she replied, once again offering a short bow.

“Get dressed,” he commanded, unmoving in her doorframe. She withheld the incredulous look, merely widening her eyes a fraction.

“Very well, Neji-sama,” she said, the phrase slowly becoming a reflexive habit. Tenten turned to the dresser, removing a subtle ivory kimono and obi. It held no pattern in the fabric. Her own white shirt was soon folded neatly on the bed as she pulled the first white layer around her shoulders. The next two followed. She allowed the long skirt of the uniform to cover her legs as she loosened the bandages around her thighs. Neji stepped forward to tie her obi at the last stage. She stood firm under his appraising gaze, refusing to fidget with the fabric.

“Understand that our target may have you in something less presentable,” was his way of telling her that she might have to dress like a slut. “And that I must ready you for his expectations. You will not have to serve others. Only me,”

“Very well, Neji-sama,”

“I have shown you my chambers? Immediately after supper,” he said, retreating through her doorframe. “Utilize this time to acquaint yourself with the grounds.”

“If it pleases you, Neji-sama,” she rehearsed, bowing a bit lower than before as he departed fully. A glance at the little alarm clock on her dresser gave her nearly three hours. She took one of them to unpack.

Tenten stepped into a pair of thick soft socks in the traditional style, where the seam separated her big toe, and perused the blank hallway beyond her chamber, noting the different patterns on each door and memorizing the location of her room. Neji’s chambers, she remembered, were two hallways to the right and three doors down. The creamy painting on his door was a swan in the reeds. During her journey, she passed very few servants, as they were at supper, but did glide respectfully past two elderly Hyuugas, and remembered to lower her head and pause to bow. They seemed pleased with her polite nature.

She came to the door with the swan on the side, each feather a meticulous brush stroke in off-white pigment. To her momentary shock, it slid open a fraction, creating a narrow frame for Neji’s face. His eye and the corner of his mouth came into view in the thin space, questioning and perhaps preparing to reprimand. He softened at the sight of her. The door widened.

“Come in. You’re early,” he said appraisingly, and Tenten recognized his tone as one of amused approval. She noted with no surprise that the size of his room surpassed hers. His furniture was all white fabric and darkly lacquered oak, very stern and serious. It smelt of soap and spices, of starch and paper, and very faintly of Neji himself. She could not see the darkening skies through the opaque ivory curtains, but knew that it was so. A few candles flickered on his desk, spreading warm light with the addition of a mellow lamp by his futon. There came a brief jarring sound as he jostled a wooden chair from beneath his desk, sliding it to the center of the room. She stood awkwardly in front of him, trying to study his demeanor for clues. His eyes were empty, his face grim. What he said next was so entirely unexpected that she very nearly forgot her place.

“Undress.”

“Wha—Very well Neji-sama,” she stammered, pressing her thighs together nervously. The confusion and mortification read easily on her face.

“Mind your expressions,” he chastised. “And start any time.”
Tenten loosened the scarf beneath her obi and dropped the cord gently. The tail swung free at her back, and the first layer unraveled. She tugged the rest free with some grace, letting the stiff silk fall over the cord. The outer-most kimono layer spread. Neji watched casually, as though Tenten were merely talking and not stripping. The second layer fell from her shoulders, leaving the soft silken base yukata. Her eyes asked the nervous question. He nodded.

It too fell to the floor, contributing to the pile of sallow silks at her feet. It left her in short wrappings and pastel panties.

“While this is mere training, you may want to revise your undergarments before the mission,” he commented, eyeing the cutesy panda print on the cotton. She blushed in the candlelight. “Now try it again. You don’t have to put the obi back on.”

“What would you have me do differently, Neji-sama?” she asked, bending to pick up her discarded kimono layers.

“Convince me,” he murmured, and didn’t have to elaborate. Her throat became dry at the sight of him, just sitting expectantly for her. The last layer slipped around her shoulders, and she took a moment to steel herself. Tenten let a scene play in her mind, briefly, little fragments of flesh on flesh and ebon strands of hair. She lingered on a few particular images, such as the curve of a pale throat, or strong scarred hands on her hips. Her eyes and thoughts turned back to reality, but the fantasy burned behind it all. Neji saw immediately the effects. The outermost layer of stiff silk fell around her feet. He smirked briefly. “Very good,” Neji said, his voice as close to purring as he would allow. Tenten smiled sensuously, baring her shoulders to him. One strong feminine hand slipped beneath a white fold, and bandages trailed from the hem of the kimono. Neji rested his chin in his hand, wondering how far she would go, or if he would even stop her. To his surprise, she paced towards his seated form, letting more of her shoulders to the air. The center parted, leaving a narrow trail of bare skin from her hips to her collar. Another layer fell. Neji suppressed a growl.

“What pleases you, Neji-sama?” she asked coyly, running her hand along the inner seam, pulling it from her skin a bit more. He unconsciously leaned forward. Tenten turned away from him, letting the fabric slip to the middle of her back.

“Very good,” he whispered, a second smirk playing on his lips. “You can stop now.”

Her face attained a confused expression while her back was turned. Slowly, she pulled the soft silk over her shoulders. Neji had closed his eyes in contemplation.

“You minded your expressions well,” he said at length. She smiled to herself.

“Thank you, Neji-sama,” she replied gently. Neji grunted at the honorary, though the cause was indeterminable. His eyes flashed open, swirling with the remnants of a hastily concealed emotion.

“You’re excused,” he said tersely. Tenten bowed deeply before replacing her kimono. She tied the obi herself, and left, remembering door patterns in the dark.