After a fantastic review by the lovely Kyuubi Shiori-Chan (*cough*shameless plugging here: go read her stories, they rock*cough*) I rediscovered this story and decided to re-write it. Yay me! The original story is in the second chapter, but there isn't really much difference except from a few re-writes of the sentences and a bit more description with the emotions. I like the re-write! Should I re-write some of my others? Even if I should I can't be bothered. Enjoy the re-make.
This is a NejiXOC fanfic people, not Ten-Ten. Nothing needs to be explained it was really a practise at fluff that went a bit angsty and soppy then sort of...died really. Oh well.
Rain.
Pouring down.
Down windows.
Down doors.
Down streets.
Down walls.
Pouring down and disappearing down gutters in slivers streams and raging rivers. Much like his sanity was now. Slipping slowly and carefully down the gutters of his mind and pulling him down into insanity. How could he have been so…stupid? HIM! The supposed genius of his clan, the best of the best, the smartest and the bravest and...Stupid...Oh he was so very stupid. He'd lost her and with that he'd lost himself. And he would never get it back.
'Clunk'
The noise moved from wall to wall as it echoed down long and empty corridors before it reached his room. Barely a flicker of emotion passed his face and it did nothing to break him from his shell. Nothing ever would now that he had lost the only reason in this life to feel. Yelling; the guards and elders of his clan were yelling out against the presence of…something. The words were muffled as it passed through the white washed walls over and over.
'Clunk'
He half turned towards the door, but otherwise did not move. No emotion, no flicker of humanity on the pale, drawn face. The silken clothing made the barest whisper of protest against his skin.
'Clunk'
The sounds moved quicker now, with more urgency then before; as though pulled like a puppet on a string. Every now and then the sounds grew uneven, stumbling, stopping, moving again.
'Clunk Thud'
Then there was movement. A lift of a leg and he was up, silk sighing as it rustled around the sock clad feet. He walked towards the door with a seeming indifference to the commotion that had just taken place. Something, someone, had rushed forwards so much that they had hit something. A wall perhaps, that had blended in with the whiteness of the place as the corridor rushed past them. There was just the barest of hesitation as a slender hand reached for the door, mind stuttering out of it's insanity before it was dragged back into the sewers. A friend? Someone who was determined to breach this cold stupor he had placed around himself? They would not reach. No one could now that she was gone. The door made no sound as it moved open and there was no sight of a person before a force flew at him and into his chest. Had he not been trained the force would have knocked him over. It took him a moment to realize the said something was fiercely hugging him and.....crying? He blinked, startled and ready to push the ball of white away from his had he not looked down.
She was here…on her wedding night she was standing here. And she was crying.
"I'm sorry" she chocked "I'm so sorry"
He said nothing, mouth slightly open even though he had stopped breathing and he stared for a moment at the girl leaning on his chest. Then he pulled her closer and wraped his arms around her small frame. He nearly pinched himself just to check this wasn't a dream, wasn't some way of his conscience getting back at him for leaving her, wasn't an illusion sent to torment him and push him into madness. But no, it was her. her hair stuck to his face as he buried his head in it, the water logged strands a much darker shade of brown then they would normally be. Her white kimono, drenched and letting water seep into his own silk clothes was decorated with small red sakura blossoms; it stuck to her and stuck to him. Mud trailed behind her in perfect footprints, stained her wooden shoes and messed up his carpet. She'd run from the ceremony. She'd run to him. He found himself afain.
And still pattering outside.
Down walls.
Down streets.
Down doors.
Down windows.
Poring down.
Rain.