Neji was not awake when his sensei entered the room.
Guilt and regret scuttled over his face like beasts on alien terrain. Perhaps years of spending time with Kakashi had rubbed off, building to this moment of failure. Gai had never been one to dwell on the past and what couldn't be changed, but his mind had other plans and shuffled leisurely through his inadequacies one by one.
By the time he did wake, there were tears.
If they weren't quite as exuberant as Gai's usual waterworks, he pretended not to notice and bore the careful hug without stoicism.
There was an ancient saying, adopted wholeheartedly by the Hyuuga:
'Family affairs should not be aired in public.'
The rough texture of this particular type of tatami bit through his leg bandages and into his skin.
As he met the eyes of each clan elder, jaw hardened by casual defiance, a part of him trembled.
No one had ever dared defy this particular maxim, so a tide of whispers had swept up after his match with Naruto — how would he be punished?
Muscles tightened, unconsciously bracing themselves for pain.
None came.
Neji met the eyes of his uncle last and knew if it were not for him, he would be writhing on the floor. A certain truth fluttered through the stagnant air.
He saw Hizashi in Hiashi.
How much of Hizashi did Hiashi see in him?