Temari stood in the stands, watching her father and the strange foreign kunoichi trying to kill each other with such vicious brutality and ferocity it caused her to shiver in barely restrained fright. She was ten years old and honestly, she envied Kankuro who dully stood next to her, staring in awe and considerable frustration at the fight. Her brother was not yet trained to the degree he could follow what was happening in the arena with his eyes. He knew he was witnessing something monumentally grand. Something incredible. And he also tried to see more of it but he was unable to. And that, in Temari's opinion, was quite fortunate. At least he wouldn't have a scare of his life.
One cannot comprehend what one cannot see, after all.
She, on the other hand, had sufficient training to be capable of following chunin-level speeds. Her bastard of a father made sure it was beaten into her as her early birthday gift until her reaction speed improved. While she didn't catch everything going on in the arena, she at least could get the gist of the important details in-between all the rapid blurs and gory scary stuff.
The bottom line was... Temari for the first time in her life saw what the elite ninjas were like. And with it, came a realization. She could at any time encounter such an opponent in the field once she graduated. No matter how slim the chances were, it was possible. Temari quickly re-evaluated her life values.
'I will have to step up my training.' She decided deep down in her heart, unwilling to accept that the fight in front of her was making her a teensy bit excited because of how terrifying it was for her young mind.
For a few seemingly unending minutes, Temari watched as Pakura stabbed and slashed her father, getting crushed or squished in return in what seemed like some deadly dance of knives and golden dust.
Pakura's hands often blurred and before Temari could comprehend what happened, she found a kunai deeply lodged in some lethal part of her father only for Pakura's body to be violently dismantled by the golden dust a second later.
As this continued, however, Temari slowly started to see a small difference. It was only slight and barely noticeable but it was there! Temari leaned forward in interest and anticipation, for a second feeling bad that she found excitement in the fact her father would be run through with kunai or that his opponent in the match to the death was slowly starting to get more effective in fighting him. That feeling quickly left when she remembered her childhood though...
Suddenly Temari's eyes widened and her breath hitched as something that never before happened... happened.
The kunai of the green-haired woman slit Rasa's throat only for him to burst into golden dust that instantly tried to smoothen Pakura. Everybody in the stands rapidly started looking around, expecting the two combatants to pop up in a different place and the fight to continue but this time was different.
This time... Pakura dodged.
As the tendrils of golden dust tried to encompass her lithe form, Pakura flipped herself to the side, blurring... dodging the quickly moving dust...
Temari blinked at the unpredictability of the action. Pakura didn't dodge even once, at least, not visibly. The sheer shock of the action made Temari blank out for a split of a second only to notice her father's form a few tens of feet away with kunai handle-deep in his forehead, its tip peeking out from the back of his head.
For a moment, Temari held her breath and clenched her fists...
She half-expected him to die. Pakura 'killed' him two times in under two seconds. Surely he was not fast enough to evade that...
Before the slight feeling of guilt and happiness could fully bloom in her chest, the form of her father dissolved into golden dust and Temari suddenly found herself trying to suppress the feeling of inadequacy and disappointment.
Shaking herself from her feelings, she refocused back onto the fight. Her father and his opponent were yet again locked in close-quarter combat, exchanging blows with their kunais. Golden dust swirled, bashed, smashed, and ripped through the air only for the nimble and graceful form of Pakura to weave through the attacks while pressing her father with her masterful knifework.
Temari couldn't see all of the moves. To her, the kunais twirled, blurred, whizzed far too fast. She could, however, see that her father was really at a disadvantage when Pakura so easily deflected his kunai, completely bypassing his guard and snapping the arm which not a slip second ago blocked into a vicious jab. Pakura's hand blurred and Temari was again graced with the scene of her father having kunai run through his head from under his chin.
Relaxing, Temari bit her lips, 'Am I a bad person for not caring when I see my father's form like that?' She mused. At the start, it bothered her. Now? Now her father supposedly died over forty times in front of her since the start of this match. Sure, it was just clones made of golden dust but to her, it seemed pretty real. 'No... he deserves it. For what he did to Gaara.' Temari stubbornly decided, her eyes watering.
"Interesting fight, wouldn't you agree, Temari?"
A hand landed on her shoulder as these words entered her ears and Temari flinched as if she was stabbed. Snapping her head to the left, her shoulders sagged, "Chiyo-baa. Don't scare me like that!" She pouted, getting a small smile from the old, usually grumpy woman.
Ignoring the small outrage in Temari's tone, Chiyo continued speaking in what Temari recognized as the old lady's teacher mode from the lessons Kankuro was getting, "Observe the fight closely, Temari. It will serve you well." It was then that Kankuro was about to open his mouth, most likely complain about not being able to decipher what was really going on in the battlefield, only to be smacked by Chiyo before he could speak, causing his mouth to snap shut while his cheeks pinked as he petulantly crossed his arms on his chest.
Temari giggled at her brother's misfortune, "They are incredibly fast."
"That they are, child. That they are. Your father was not chosen to be the Kazekage because of his ugly mug." Chiyo mirthfully chortled. "And yet, this is more psychological battle rather than all-out slug-fest, girl."
Hearing that, Temari's eyes widened, "What!?" She blurted out, making some people turn towards her with admonishing gazes just as in the battlefield, Pakura's arms were torn from her torso in exchange for getting a kunai up Rasa's ass and then kicking it deeper for a good measure with a snap-kick.
Seeing that particular moment, Chiyo burst out laughing while Temari ducked her head in utterly mortifying embarrassment as she saw her father's eyes widen to humorous proportions when Pakura buggered him with pointy steel.
Rasa dissolved into golden dust while Pakura changed to mud, surprising many she could do Earth Jutsu.
"What do you mean 'psychological'?" Temari asked in a vain attempt to make the Honorable Elder next to her stop laughing at the humiliation her father suffered.
Finally managing to stop herself from laughing, Chiyo spoke, "They are barely using basics. Both of them are ninjutsu experts focused on their bloodline and yet, all Pakura is using is her exceptional kunaijutsu and some rudimentary low-cost Jutsus while your father didn't use even one battlefield-reshaping technique. Chakra-wise, they could keep this up all day as long as neither does any mistake." She shook her head.
"But... But father is using so much dust!" Temari exclaimed in disbelief, knowing her family's bloodline is very chakra exhausting.
"Simple techniques he mastered long ago and while there are tons of golden dust on the battlefield, the amount of dust he actively manipulates in a single instance is really small. He simply switches to the dust closest to his opponent. It just looks as if he used a whole lot of it but in reality, he is using minimum. No... they could go at it for an entire day like this with neither of them exhausted. Rasa most likely regenerates chakra faster than he is losing it at this rate. The golden dust clone is simply that cheap for him with his degree of mastery over his bloodline. As for Pakura... well." Chiyo trailed off in a small discomfort.
Noticing, Temari curiously tilted her head, not separating her gaze from the two fighters in the arena, "What about her?"
"She is the only kunoichi mad and skilled enough to face members of the seven swordsmen of mist only with two kunais." Chiyo shrugged, "In her time, she was the pride of our village. What Yondaime Hokage was to Konoha, she was to us to a lesser degree... at least before your father apparently decided to off her." She added in distaste before muttering, "Serves the prick well."
Hearing about the apparent skill of the agile kunoichi, Temari's eyes excitedly lit up as she wondered if she could get so strong one day too. Seeing Temari's reaction, Chiyo hummed in self-satisfaction as her eyes flickered from side to side all over the arena, watching the flurry of death delivered by Pakura. Chiyo was far too experienced to not notice the ever-so-slight measured increase in speed of Pakura. Slowly increasing her speed from jonin-level to S-rank in twenty minutes? Chiyo thought not. At least, not unintentionally. Pakura was playing with Rasa, measuring him.
It wasn't even funny, really. Not when in some instances, Pakura's hands went from zero to hundred in matters of a split second, redirecting her stabs and strikes with such a sudden increase of speed that even Chiyo barely saw it as more than a blur. The worst part was that Pakura masked it so well, Chiyo doubted even many of the Suna Jonins noticed what the green-haired woman was actually doing. After all, she only managed to catch it because of her expertise in puppetry, and having quick fingers alongside sudden snap-ish movements of hands was a must in her chosen field.
Then again, speed was only one factor and the fight was far from decided. Not when neither of the ninjutsu experts used ninjutsu yet.
'Let's hope this talk will lessen Temari's hard feelings if Pakura wins.' Chiyo wistfully thought.