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Hiashi Hyuga
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The wake was not a happy affair, not that he expected it to be mind you, the death of a family member never is but in some level this was met with relief, at least by him. His brother was quite attached to his little wife and her loss struck him hard but to see him crumble slowly under the weight of all that worry and stress that terrible long illness caused was, in his opinion, far worse. They knew this was coming, that there was no miracle cure. It was a mercy that she faded quickly, she did not suffer long and now the excruciating waiting ended for his brother and his children. They would hurt, they would mourn but they would find closure.
Voices in the hall interrupted his musings.
"She must! She is my Mama! She has to come back!"It was the boy.
He saw his twin flinch.
"Neji! She isn't coming back because she can't! She is dead!" Hotaru, the grandmother said.
"No!" He shouted "I want to see her!"
"She is not gone! She is here!"
"Neji!"
He was surprised when he saw the siblings stand side by side, holding hands, trying to comfort each other, to lean in each other. It reminded him of another pair, two little boys in what seemed another life.
They went to Hizashi. Too close for his liking though. As the clan head, his place was at the right of the head of the house, in this instance, his brother. It wasn't that he did not like children as much as he didn't know how to handle them. In normal circumstances even his was hard enough. Those there and then...
When his nephew started to ask questions he could only stare at his empty cup. Why? He asked why. Kami, I need a drink. He thought.
His plea was answered when Tadashi´s girl – Kou, was the name, wasn't it?- served him. With a gesture he indicated her to leave the bottle there, if the evening went on like that he was going to need it. It was fortunate that they shut up after the little tale of the two worlds. It would be most unsightly for him to get drunk, more so because he had a funeral to attend in the morrow.
At sunrise he went home. He didn't rest and he didn't eat more than a few bites to his wife's concern. He didn't pay her any mind. He had a long bath before changing his clothes to attend the little party.
He, as the clan head, presided the ceremony as he was supposed to do. He performed the same speech than ever. Sadly this was just common enough to be almost routine. His words sounded empty to his own ears. It didn't matter, not really, as far as he knew all this was just a pantomime. Every one of them with their mask on. His eyes flicked to Hizashi´s children, they too with the stoic expression of their elders. Well stoic in the case of the little one, his nephew seemed more curious about the little details of the ritual than anything, he probably forgot what was its motive. Some part of him found this endearing.
He was reminded of it soon enough though. Maybe that fleeting pang he felt in his chest when the boy asked his grandmother about the flames was pity. For him and for the old woman, she had lost her first daughter in the war and her third husband a few months later, now her youngest and last child was gone as well.
He looked at his own daughter, safely in her mother's arms. His little girl, his heir. She was just a few months younger than the girl, young, too young to even understand what was happening, but those two knew, his niece too. Maybe even better than her brother if she was as clever as it was said. He only hoped that his child didn't have to, at least for a few years. Inwardly, he smiled. Not likely. The heiress couldn't afford to be an innocent child no more than he could afford to be a doting parent. He wouldn't be able to protect her but he would ensure that she would grow strong, that she would survive and that would be enough. It had to be enough.
When the funeral ended his brother met his eyes and again all their arguments all their disagreement didn't matter. He exchanged a few words with his wife and followed his twin. He didn't even acknowledge his father´s disapproving glance.
Hizashi didn't step a foot inside the house, he just sat in the porch. He did the same.
It was quiet and the colors light drew in the pound at dusk were pleasant enough to look at.
"She is really gone, isn't she?" His brother suddenly asked.
He blinked a bit startled.
"Yes"
He looked at his twin and, at that moment, something hit him. His brother, Hizashi, didn't care about his wife. At some point, despite being an arranged marriage, he came to love her, maybe he even fell in love with her.
Perhaps it was stupid that he only realized of that then but before he wouldn't have entertained the possibility. He thought about his own marriage, as much as he respected and cared for his wife as the mother of his child he didn't love her. Love wasn't something that came easily to him, not that he could afford it but there were a few people who have claimed his love. His own mother, as his father was only a figure to be feared and respected, he had loved his mother or at least her memory. But Hinata, his child, his perfect little daughter, and the man sitting at his side were the only living souls who could claim such an emotion from Hiashi.
Hizashi was his little brother, his twin, his mirror, and he was hurting because he lost his wife, a woman he had loved. Something he couldn't begin to understand even if he wanted.
Kami, he felt tired.
It was night already.
There was some movement inside. The boy at the entrance, barefoot, clutching his little blanked, vulnerable.
"Neji?" His brother called. The little one rushed to his arms.
He stood there, looking at his brother and his nephew. A part of him felt envious, envious that they could express themselves. Envious that despite being raised together, Hizashi could allow himself to show real emotion when he could not.
It was a fortunate thing that they were twins. That despite everything Hizashi could understand him without words and in times like this, only his mere presence was enough, because he did not have anything more to give. Sometimes he thought that the curse seal was a prize he would gladly have paid for not being who he was. Wearing a mask was tiring. More so one that you did not know where the end was or how to take it off.
The door quietly slid open. A small figure appeared in the threshold. It was the younger sister, the crippled bright child. She probably followed her brother. Instead of walking towards them as he would have thought she just stood there and stared. The moonlight gave her an eerie aura, like a being not quite of this world. She looked lost, so young, so fragile, until their eyes met. Two pale orbs. They are big, too big for her face and old, too old, unnatural. There is detachment in there and knowledge. ´She understands.`
They looked at each other for a moment that seemed to last an eternity until she dropped his gaze and turned around, going inside.
He could only think: ´What a strange little girl.`
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Happy new year!
