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The closer you get to the light
the bigger your shadow becomes
- Unknown
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Shadows of the sun
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When they tell her that he's dead, she doesn't cry.
She's emotionless; empty, and they think they've made a mistake by telling her first – obviously with her lack of reaction, she doesn't care.
At home, alone, she doesn't cry either.
She's leaning against her door until suddenly she's sitting in front of it, legs stretched before her, looking at her hands. There are calluses and burns, scratches and scars; how many were because of him?
He was a slave driver when it came to training, and she as his chosen training partner, had to be just as strong as he was for there to be any progress. He didn't want weakness. And she strove to make sure that he never got any from her.
There was one weakness he allowed though, as fragile as the weakness was.
Training or no, it was an instinct, a craving, a need.
Whenever they were together, she could always feel the loneliness in him rolling off in waves. And somehow, that wave would ebb and flow into something else when she touched him.
Tenten doesn't feel bad that she's the only one he'll allow to touch him just for the sake of it.
It was nothing more than a touch; a single touch on the shoulder to say she was there, and he let her because he knew that he was her goal. It was strange to be touching something you wanted so desperately to reach.
An orphan with nothing; clawing her way through the ninja academy to finally be somebody; and a boy who was just as orphaned, alone in a world as cruel as the streets, trying to remember what it was like to have someone care.
They both needed each other. The advantage of having no one else to relay on, but yourself, made them alone together.
What they had was a weakness.
It became her duty to protect him just as much as he protected her, but the taunts of, "Where were you when he fell?"
Doesn't make her cry. Not at all.
At the funeral, the Hyuuga family stand – prim, proper, quiet.
Some people bring possessions of his that they bury with him; trivial trinkets.
She doesn't bring anything. But that's because she can't remove the indents he's given her, not that she would want to – it's the only thing of his that she can keep.
Hinata sniffs, brushing tears that won't stop flowing while beside her, Naruto glares down at the wood; his lower lip trembles. When this is over, he'll sit by his grave and cry because what's the point of helping Neji change his outlook on life if all he did was die?
Tenten will stand nearby as Hinata cries too, telling Naruto that if it wasn't for him, Neji wouldn't have done what he did.
Almost bitterly, she shakes her head.
The Hyuuga Neji before that exam would have loved to see the little heiress die. All the hate he had stored in his heart for Hinata and the main house would've kept him from dying for her.
But maybe even then, he would have still traded his life for another's. It was the purpose of the Branch.
Even if he hated it, his duty was worth more than his life.
In a way, it's why Tenten hates him most.
Lee blubbers like a baby and Guy sheds just as many tears. But they aren't hysterical.
It is the job of a shinobi to go on dangerous missions to protect their villages; death is an occupational hazard. They are only real shinobi after all, if they die on the battlefield.
The rest of the ninjas that attend the ceremony are solemn. They murmur to each other how good he was, how he had so much potential and talent and skill. When they are done quietly respecting the dead, they drift off like leaves getting carried away; leaving nothing but whispers in the very wind that took them.
His team still waits. Those his life saved, stand at his side. Hiashi too remains after he dismisses the other members of his family. They didn't really know him; they still saw him as an angry, hateful boy who didn't respect the traditions of their family.
Without the stain between his brows, reverently, Hiashi says quietly, "His father would have been proud."
Before long, the family goes, and she remarks, "He always was."
Guy and Lee wait until the storm clouds roll, when lightning shatters through the darkness, they disappear in it.
Almost alone now, she's standing aside waiting for Naruto and Hinata to leave, it starts to rain. All funerals are accompanied by rain. It's a shame, she thinks, he's always liked it.
Hinata pulls Naruto away to shelter, and in the soft mist that rises almost out of nowhere, neither of them see her.
She stands behind the stone marking his name because she's always behind him: in the exams, in training, in skill; always behind. It's something she's grown accustomed to; it's not so bad being behind him; watching his back and protecting his blind spot. She was good at that.
But this, this she isn't.
Days, weeks, months pass and Tenten still goes to their training grounds, always alone now that Neji is gone. She sets up her weapons and prepares for battle with a ghost.
His specter is there; his silhouette right in front of her, taunting her that hitting him would be the further goal she could ever have. And because this is him and she is her, she takes his bait and strikes.
Beat after beat, metal clanging after metal, she chases a shadow she names Neji.
Every other day works like this, mission allowing.
She leaves home at the earliest hour because Neji used to make her, and now she's there before the sun is up and she's hitting target after target, but still not being satisfied because Neji would never let her hit.
No matter the weather, she's there.
Lee worries about her, and so does Guy, but they can't stop her.
This is her way of healing. This is her way of reaching him.
On missions she is silent; she is silent everywhere and all the time now, but her efficiency seemed to increase in the small gap between Neji's death and now. She's precise, calculated, cold; just like him. She can feel a part of him settle against her skin in battle, watching her blindside instead of his, and it doesn't feel right.
There are times when she wants a break from it all, fighting a Neji that isn't Neji, and she climbs their tree and lies on the branch, her head lying uncomfortably now that his leg is no longer there for her to use as a pillow. This old tree is their sanctuary, their place in the world to be alone together, to will themselves to carry on.
Between the bare branches of the tree, the sun strains to reach her and she raises her hand to the sky, eyes closed, trying to conjure him from her memory, to pull him out of heaven just so she knows that she isn't alone by herself.
There's a faint warmth against her hand, but the coolness is prominent and her lips quirk a smile as her hand glides back down to touch her heart.
Exhaling, the air condenses around her, and she climbs out of their tree.
She walks in the direction of the sun, willing herself to follow it. He kisses her goodbye as the sun meets the earth, and she reminds herself that dead or not, alone or not, she will reach him.
It doesn't change anything.
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Owari
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