Chapter One

"Mom, you have to get out of the house, eventually," Neji Hyuga said when he entered his mother's pitch-black room with her breakfast and her Fluoxetine. It had been almost a year since his father's murder, however his mother continued to suffer through depression that would knock her off of her feet for days at a time. Sometimes, she would lock herself in her room for a few days, not even allowing herself to see the light of day.

Neji continued to worry about his mother's health. The doctors said that there was nothing more that they could do. To put it bluntly, they said that she was going to have to take her medication daily, and learn to live with the mental disorder that she suffered from. Easy for them to say: her manic depression was not just affecting her; if affected everybody around her. She couldn't work, and had been laid off from her job as a university professor in Ancient Greek History.

Neji sighed when his mother didn't budge under her sheets. This had been going on for four days straight, and he didn't know what to do. He was running out of ideas to make her happy. When it came down to it, maybe she just needed to get back on her feet, and meet another man. But how in the world could she meet any other human being if she couldn't even talk to her own son?

"Natsumi," Neji called her name, knowing that she always hated it when he called her by her first name. She felt it disrespectful towards the parental figure, and used to slap him as a teenager whenever he would do so out of spite. However, not even the very thing that used to make her spit balls of fire could reanimate her. "Mom, you have to take your medicine."

Her life wasn't the only one that had been impacted by the death of Hizashi; she couldn't seem to comprehend the fact that Neji both grieved over the death of his father, and he also loathed him for leaving them alone in this world.

Natsumi and Hizashi had been together since high school, and had married right out of college. They had both attended the same university and received doctoral degrees; Natsumi's in Ancient Greek History, and Hizashi's in nuclear chemistry. They were both brilliant people who had experienced successful lives, but their fruition hadn't lasted long enough. They weren't old enough to end like this.

Neji had been born to his parents when they were twenty eight, and they felt that he was the greatest gift that could ever be presented to them. However, when he was born, the doctors found cancerous cells beginning to spread on Natsumi's cervix, and had performed a hysterectomy the day after he was born. Much to his parents' dismay, Natsumi and Hizashi could conceive no more children. Because of this, they cared for their son with everything they had. However, their careers took up most of their time, so Neji had been passed along through babysitter after babysitter up until he reached his sophomore year in high school.

"Mom, don't make me do it," Neji threatened, placing the tray with her oatmeal, orange juice, and Fluoxetine on the surface of her wooden dresser. He moved over to the window that faced east; faced the rising sun. When Natsumi didn't make a peep, Neji groaned and grasped the cloth of the green plaid curtains, ripping them open viciously, allowing the light of the new day to pour into his mother's cave of a bedroom. He heard the sound of pillows ruffling, and glanced over his shoulder to watch his mother throw a pillow over her head to block the sunlight.

"Neji, mommy is trying to sleep," she groaned, emotionally drained from her tragedy-induced mental disorder. Neji revolved around to face the bed, placing one hand on his hip while the other pushed the hair out of his face, bulldozing it back over his crown.

"Don't talk to me like I'm four," he muttered, becoming agitated with his mother's lack of willpower.

I'm twenty-three.

He dragged his feet along the chocolate and gray carpet, moving back across the beautiful bedroom that his parents had designed together. The walls were stained a stunning forest green, and the ceiling painted bark brown. All of the furniture in the room complimented the colors of the walls, being an off-white or gray in color.

"Mom, please just take your medicine," I said, almost begging her. "If you're not going to do it for yourself, then do it for me, at least. Do it for your son."

"Neji, please leave me be," Natsumi didn't bother removing the deep gray pillow from her face, and so her words became muffled. However, Neji was still able to make out the agitating request of his sick mother. "Go play with Hinata and Hanabi."

Neji was taken aback by this alternate option, and had to stop for a minute to process her spoken thoughts. Did she even remember anything that had happened within the past year, or did her memory simply stop the moment she found out that her husband had been killed?

"Mom, Hinata and Hanabi moved away from here five months ago, remember?" he told her, attempting to jog her memory. "They moved back in April."

"Oh," she said.

"Oh?" Neji's thoughts grumbled, running out of patience for his mother. That's all you have to say? "Oh?"

Becoming flustered with Natsumi's lacking will to start her life again, Neji huffed out a heavy sigh and turned for the door, stomping towards it in anger.

"Fine." He placed his hand on the doorknob, not even bothering to look over his shoulder at the lump under all of the pillows and thick comforter. "If you don't want to help yourself, then why should I want to help you, either?" Almost hoping for a retort from Natsumi, Neji stalled for a moment or two before gritting his teeth bounding into the hallway, slamming the mud-brown door shut.

God damn, that woman was beginning to irritate Neji to the point where he didn't even want to bother with her anymore. Nothing he did was ever good enough; he could never get her out of bed whenever she fell into the rotten hands of her sickness. She didn't want to get herself out of bed, and she sure as hell didn't want others trying to do the latter.

In all honesty, Neji wanted to give up hope for her. She couldn't seem to see that she wasn't the only one suffering from the pain. She wasn't the only one who had lost someone dear to her. She lost her husband, but Neji lost his father. While it sounds harsh, Natsumi could always find a new husband, but Neji would never be able to call another man his father, because none of them would be such.

This brought on a whole wave of pain that he had found a way to endure over the past year. All he had to do was shut it out, never allowing that pain to seep through his cells and attack his nerves. While it was all easier said than done, he had accomplished it about a week or so after the death of Hizashi. While there had been those few days of unending grief and sorrow, he quickly found the will to suppress that pain and move on with his life.

But Natsumi...she was different. She was weak. She gave into the darkness and despair, allowing it to swallow her whole and send her into oblivion. It was almost sickening, how she laid there in bed, practically waiting to die. The pity that she had for herself was disgusting, and he couldn't take it anymore. A year had passed; she had to learn to move on. Yes, it was going to be difficult, but Neji had made it through okay, and so would she.

The anger that boiled within him caused him to ball his fists and snort out a forced breath of hot air. His blood steamed and bubbled under his skin, and he decided that he needed to get out of this house right now, or he might start yelling at his mother. He clomped down the soft, carpeted hallway and into the sunlit living room, where he stopped and stared out the window, shoving both of his fists to his hips.

He didn't know where he was going to go, but he knew that he had to get out. Off of the buffet table along the side of the wall, Neji grabbed his keys and his wallet and shoved them into his pockets violently and with enough force to where the seams could have torn. In all honesty, he didn't give a damn. He wanted to get out, and he wanted almost to forget his mother here. It had gotten to the point where he just didn't care anymore. If she didn't care, why should he?

But he couldn't possibly just abandon his mother. Realistically, that would be almost too cruel, if he just left her behind. She had already lost her husband, and if she lost her one and only son, then it could be easily predicted that she would never get out of bed again.

Neji shook his head and bounded over to the front door, opening it without a thought and letting the sunlight shimmer on his face. For that first moment, his eyes instinctively squinted shut in order to protect his retinas. The September air was unseasonably warm, except for the cool breeze that kissed the skin of his face. He turned his moonlight gray eyes to the silver '68 Camaro that he had parked behind his mother's raven Mercedes. His father's '63 Buick Riviera was still jammed in park at the very top of the driveway, covered by a weathered tarp.

Stopping for a minute, Neji closed his eyes, remembering the fading memories of the days when he and his father would work on the Buick, even when there was nothing wrong with it. Hizashi treasured that old car, and kept it up-to-date with new radios and yearly paint jobs.

Feeling a sort of sadness wash over him as these recollections soared back to him, Neji's eyebrows pulled together and he shook his head, removing himself from their trajectory. Touching his fingertips to his forehead, Neji allowed a deep breath to escape from the bottom of his lungs.

"I've got to get out of here," he said to himself and fished his keys back out of his left pocket, pinching the key to his Camaro between his thumb and index finger. Jabbing it into the keyhole and twisting almost violently, Neji swung the door open and fell into the driver's seat before yanking it closed again. He took no time to start the roaring engine, and he didn't sit there and listen to it rumble ferociously, like he normally would have. No, he had to get away from this house, before the hard work of suppressing his emotions unraveled like yarn.

Consciously, he didn't know where he was going as he slammed his foot on the gas and backed out of the flat driveway. A part of him didn't really care where he was going, so long as it was away from his mother and her constant moping.

The streets of Konoha were filled with people taking leisurely strolls. Children frollicked on the sidewalks, some on their hands and knees, scratching on the cement with multi colored chalk. Others jumped rope with groups of friends.

It was too bad that they would have to grow up one day and leave all of these carefree antics behind them. They would become the target for piles and piles of responsibilities, all of which must be completed, or else somebody would frown upon them. They will soon advance through their grade levels, and upon reaching their final two years of high school, they will think it to be so difficult. However, real life in the real world was a slap in the face, compared to high school.

Neji sighed and removed one hand from the wheel, resting his left elbow on the open window and leaning his head on the palm of his hand. With long and strong fingers, he ran his metacarpals through his flowing, pin-straight hair.

Life was so much easier in high school. He had both of his parents, who were both highly educated and well-liked by the community. Natsumi had not yet become mentally sick with her manic depression, and so he didn't have to care for her or make sure that she took her medication. In high school, he was looked up to by his cousin, Hinata, and was perceived as a genius by the school in its entirety.

Unconsciously, Neji turned into the parking lot of his usual place in Konoha and parked in his typical space on the end. The tavern had been a place that Neji had found himself coming to again and again, his visits becoming more frequent as time passed. Before his father's death, he had only visited alehouses on rare occasion, typically with some old buddies from high school and college. Now, it was all he could do not to drink himself into oblivion.

Neji cut the ignition and shoved the driver's door open, the pointed tip at the bottom corner just barely missing the curb. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the shiny silver door smashing back shut with the rest of the car's body. Smothering his keys back within his pocket, Neji trudged up the sidewalk and made his way to the entrance, where he could hear the music blaring with a song that he was unfamiliar with. He extended his right arm and snaked his fingers around the knob, twisting it and bulldozing through the arch. Immediately, the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke blasted through his nostrils, staining them with the odor. By now, however, he was practically used to the secondhand smoke poisoning his alveoli.

He took the usual and direct route straight to the front of the bar, where the blonde lady with the brown eyes stood, washing out used glasses. At her side was the other familiar bartender; a man whose dark hair matched his Klingon beard, and who always seemed to have a cigarette clenched in between his teeth.

Neji sat down at the typical barstool on the far right, in front of the blonde lady. He held his elbows firmly on the wooden surface of the bar and leaned onto them, crunching his body tightly. Both of the bartenders glanced at him and grinned.

"Neji Hyuga," the man said in a confident and booming voice as he poured a glass of bourbon on the rocks. "Haven't seen you in a few days."

Neji glanced towards the man, who he had become good friends with, and he nodded at him. "Asuma," he greeted, and then turned his attention to the beautiful brown-eyed girl, with whom he had also made fair acquaintance with. "Tsunade."

"I figured we'd see you here today," Tsunade said and set the glass that she had been drying down on the upper level of the "backstage" bar. In unison, Asuma and Tsunade sent their glasses flying in one another's direction, switching the filled glass with the empty one. "Word on the street says that your mother keeps getting worse." Tsunade transferred the bourbon to the surface of the bar, touching the perspiring glass to the back of Neji's hand.

He cradled it within his fingertips and swirled the bitter drink around in a circle, watching as the liquid was powerful enough to move the solid ice.

"You might as well just give me that bottle, Asuma," Neji warned the man who was running the show this afternoon. Asuma chuckled and placed the bottle aside, prepared to refill Neji's glass quickly. To answer Tsunade, his eyes flickered at her, who payed attention to him, while also doing her job. She placed a bowl of nuts on the bar in front of Neji, then grabbed a few in between her delicate finger tips. "She is getting worse. I can't even get her out of bed anymore."

"Sorry to say this, because she is your mother," Tsunade started breaking the shell of a pistachio and popping the seed into her mouth, "but maybe she needs to get laid."

"She needs to do something." Neji brought the glass to his lips, and already he could foreshadow the burning of the hard liquor clawing down his throat. Even still, he allowed the alcohol to seep through the part in his lips and pool into his mouth. He swallowed hard; the first sip was always the worst. "I can't do it anymore."

"Have you tried talking to her about it?"

"I've tried everything in the book." Neji took another gulp of bourbon; it went down easier than the first sip, but it still inflamed his throat. "But any time she speaks to me anymore, it's like she's talking to a little kid."

"Maybe you should just get her out of the house," Asuma suggested, moving behind Tsunade to the cabinet containing an alcoholic's heaven. He heaved out the ingredients for Sex on the Beach. Neji watched him as he skillfully combined the alcohols and the juices. However, when Neji glanced at the bar seats in front of Asuma, he took notice to how they were all empty. Having a feeling that he knew what Asuma was practicing for, Neji spun around on his own bar stool and began scanning the room around him, looking for a certain lady.

There were a lot of people here today, but with sharp eyes, Neji was able to pick out the black-haired beauty in the form-fitting, red cocktail dress. Her hair was a majestic mess as it fell around her face and down to the bottoms of her scapulas. She was standing in charcoal platform pumps around a round table with two other girls and a guy. It didn't look as if the guy had any intention for any of the women at the table, nor the other way around.

Revolving back around, Neji exchanged a glance with Tsunade, who snickered at her coworker. Acting as if he was unknowing of Asuma's practice in making Kurenai Yuhi's favorite mixed drink, he replied to the statement that the head-over-heels bartender had made earlier.

"You don't think I've tried?" Neji downed half of his drink and placed it back down on the wooden surface of the bar. The ice clinked as it began to melt, and pieces of "the rocks" began falling over one another, sliding around inside the glass. "She doesn't want to do anything but lay around in her bed and sleep."

"Take her on a cruise," he said nonchalantly, bending over to examine the hourglass-shaped mixed drink. He wanted everything to be perfect, even though this round was merely practice for when he worked up the nerve to talk to her. "There's one at the end of next week, and there are still spaces open." Leaving his creation for only a moment, Asuma turned to the counter at his back and grabbed a flyer off of it and handing the brightly colored advertisement.

This might not be such a bad idea. Neji pondered the idea as he bit the tip of the glass containing his hard liquor. The vapors were strong, and he could feel them practically burning off the hairs inside of his nose. If, of course, I can even get her up long enough to invite her.

"Hmm." Neji thought aloud, really and truly wondering how he was going to get this idea across to her. In all honesty, it was, indeed, a good plan, and he gave kudos to Asuma for suggesting it. However, if Natsumi refused to listen to what he had to say, then there was no way he could get her to pack her bags and get in the car with him.

Tsunade smirked and began moving out of the space behind the bar. Asuma didn't seem to notice, but Neji did.

"I'm going to tell Kurani that she's got a phone call," she said to Neji, and while it sounded drowned out by the music blasting throughout the bar, Asuma's head snapped in her direction.

"Tsunade, wait!" he called out to her, but there was no stopping her. She walked with a bounce over to the ladies' table and already initiated conversation with the woman that Asuma had fallen for. It looked so easy for Tsunade to go over and to speak with other women, but that was probably because she was a woman herself. They could relate easily, and friendliness between them seemed to radiate off of their smiles.

Neji turned his attention back to the flyer in his hand and continued to nibble on the inedible glass cup. For some reason, his thoughts were positive on this one, and maybe - just maybe - he would be able to get his mother out of bed for this. It would be a fun mother-and-son trip, and quite possibly, she would find a man to hit it off with.

A cruise, huh?