Mature themes; implications of drug use, alcoholism
Features immoral!Neji
It's sad. Don't read if you want happiness.
"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand." – Henri Nouwen
He wakes up centuries later, a washed-up figure on a washed-up couch, bloodshot eyes blinking away the stings and the brightness of reality. And she watches him in silence, arms folded across her chest, chin lowered and poised.
"Water," he croaks, and she nods at the jug and glass on the tiny little coffee table. He reaches out, and she wonders when his hands became so rough.
He eyes her over the rim, stubble tearing at his fingers when he wipes his mouth. "Why are you so dressed up?" he asks. His voice harbors no real curiosity.
"It's our three year anniversary today."
"Oh."
They stare at each other, until he glances away.
She no longer feels angry. Instead, there is a shuddering pain in her chest that refuses to go away, a howling scream of agony that slowly grows in size.
I will not cry.
Neji pulls out something from his back pocket, a packet creased and squashed and more important than anything in this room. Including her.
"Don't do that here," she says sharply. Her nails are cutting, and they dig into her flesh.
"Christ, Tenten," Neji mutters. He tosses the white powder next to the glass of water, and the weight sends minute ripples dancing upon its surface. "Give a guy a break."
He's only twenty-five. She's only twenty-five.
I can't do this anymore.
"I want this to stop." Tenten wills her voice to stay even. It does, and that's what scares her. When did her emotions become so removed? "You're here all day. You don't even work anymore. All you do is drink and smoke and waste away."
It's a little frightening, admittedly, how blank Neji's face is when she talks. Like he can't even register what she's saying. He's fiddling with the white packet again, and Tenten can feel something stab her chest.
"Neji."
It's no more than a fractured whisper.
Listen to me.
"Please."
I will not cry.
"I want you out."
Finally, he looks up. Finally, he looks at her. But he doesn't see her, because his vision is clouded by disbelief and… rage.
He is enraged.
"Excuse me?" Neji hisses. He stands up slowly, swaying from his hangover, stumbling from his high, and makes his way towards her. "Why don't you try saying that again?"
"It wasn't supposed to be like this."
Something has paralysed her. Her bones have cemented, her joints rusted still. There is a terrible fear swarming her instincts.
He reeks of beer and cigarettes.
It has taken her two years to get to this point. Two years of alcohol abuse, drugs, and smoking. Two years of policemen at her door, complaints written by neighbours, fines and bills and warnings, for her to finally understand.
He wasn't going to get better.
She had tried, God knows, she had tried. Counselors, therapy sessions, everything and nothing.
She had been so stupid.
Why hadn't she noticed? She wasn't even aware when all these started. The ongoing drunken fits and incoherent babblings. The broken belongings and ripped sheets.
The ever-growing silence that stretched between them.
She hadn't noticed until it became too big to ignore. Two years. It had taken her two years.
She loved him.
.
Tenten cackles and flouts her cards in front of his face.
"Ha, in your face, Neji!" Tenten crows. "I win this round. Now you have to buy me dinner!"
Neji snorts. "Impossible. I never lose at cards. And I'm not buying you dinner."
"I'm your girlfriend! You're supposed to buy me dinner anyway, regardless. It's like the most generic boyfriend-girlfriend rule."
"Can't we be one of those unique couples who don't fit stereotypes and do things their own way?" Neji smirks.
"No way!"
.
She loved Hyuuga Neji.
But not anymore.
"Get. Out."
I will not cry.
She cries.
And Neji looks like he wants to hit her, but decides not to, more from lack of strength than actual refusal.
She cries.
She cries because she is mourning. She is mourning Hyuuga Neji. The man before her is not him. He is a stranger, one she doesn't know. And she wants him gone. She wants this imposter gone.
She just wants the old Neji back.
Tenten knows that he is dead and buried, however. And that admittance on her part twists her heart, and somewhere along the line, a piece of her blackens and fades away.
Neji was the most important person to her. He was, but not is. The same hands than used to caress her cheeks with tender love now grasp the breasts of prostitutes and hookers. It's the same hands that down bottles of poison and tips life-leaching powder onto the bathroom sink to snort up his nose. And she can't stand it anymore.
"You can go to hell by yourself." How did her voice become so cold? "Don't drag me down there with you."
She adjusts her bags. She walks out. She is stupid.
So she looks back.
Yeah, I don't know what this was supposed to be. Just some random little thingy to expel the schoolwork dusting my brain.
The Tenten and Neji of this world are debatable. There are things they both should have done, things they both haven't done, and whatever they are, its up to the readers to decide.
Don't ask me about the last line, either. It was sort of supposed to be an open ending. Like, she looks back. Does that mean she'll come back? Perhaps. Perhaps not. AhahahayeahIreallydon'tknowjustgowithit.