A/N: Written for the August round of Naruto Flashfic. What is it with me and Hyuuga deathfic?
It would not be incorrect to say that Hinata was relieved when the Hyuuga elders bowed to Hiashi's wishes and named Hanabi the clan heir in her place. Although the elder of the girls tried her hardest to be a good kunoichi, to overcome her fears and learn some of the bold, womanly courage of her sensei, she was too easily bullied – too pliable, too giving – to ever lead a clan as powerful as the Hyuuga. If she followed in her father's footsteps, she knew she would never be able to stand against the shortsighted, selfish interests of the elders, each of whom struggled to advance their own branches of the family within the clan's structure.
She had stood before them in the ceremony that transferred the title, and solemnly forswore any intention of placing herself above her sister in the succession. She bowed deeply before Hanabi, touching her forehead to the tatami, and swore loyalty to the future leader of the Hyuuga.
She had thought it would make everything okay. Hanabi was strong and decisive, intelligent, bold, and insightful. Hanabi would lead them well.
But never again.
It had been a bright, sunny day when Hanabi's jounin-sensei limped back into Konoha, injured in many places, to tell the tale of his team getting attacked. They had been sent on a simple C-rank mission, carrying a packet of semi-important documents to the capital of the Fire Country. Nothing vital, no state secrets, nothing that would attract undue attention or pursuit. Something perfect for a team of genin. But they had been set upon anyway, and all three teens were slaughtered. The jounin himself had defeated their attackers; unable to carry their bodies home, he had instead destroyed them where they had fallen, so that no one could steal the secret of the Byakugan or of the insects who had died with their host, Hanabi's Aburame teammate.
Hanabi was dead.
The funeral had long since ended, but she remained where she was, kneeling in front of the memorial marker and crying softly. She had loved her sister, had been delighted with Hanabi's capabilities – even when Hanabi intimidated her a little. And now Hanabi was gone. Her bright, quick sister had been snuffed out like a candle, all because someone thought that Konoha was foolish enough to entrust important documents to genin. Anger wanted to consume her, but it was buried by grief, aching loss, and fear. What would come now? What would become of the Hyuuga, now that their best chance for the future was dead?
"What am I going to do?" she whispered softly, staring at the characters carved into the white marble. Hyuuga Hanabi. "What are we all going to do?"
She expected no answer; when a voice spoke behind her, she started. "We will do what we always do, Hinata-sama. Keep living, and make the best of it."
Neji, still dressed in the mourning clothes from the funeral earlier in the day, stepped forward and knelt quietly beside her, his gaze tracing out Hanabi's name. Hinata studied him quietly, looking for the expression in his smooth face. Searching for grief, for anger, for a fear of the future… but Neji had never feared the future, had he? He was secure in his fatalistic outlook, she thought with a trace of resentment. He didn't worry about uncertainties, because for him, there was none. The future would be what it would be, unchangeable and inevitable.
She wondered if he thought Hanabi's death to have been set in stone, and wished she could borrow a little of his serene indifference. There was no trace of emotion on his face as he stared at the monument, then closed his eyes and bent his head. His lips moved as he murmured a quiet, traditional prayer for the souls of the dead, but still no expression that she could detect crossed his features.
"I can't be you," she murmured softly, almost before she knew she'd spoken. "I can't be like that."
For a moment, it seemed as though he hadn't heard her; only after a few beats did he raise his head and look at her – his face still seemed blank, although she thought that maybe now the lack of expression was a bit more studious, more deliberate. "What do you mean by that, Hinata-sama?" His voice was calm and simple, but underneath it, a hint of genuine curiosity.
She flushed, agitation taking hold of her and making her fidget uncomfortably. She hated his gaze sometimes – times like now, when she could swear she heard him thinking about how hopeless and impulsive and immature and… and everything she was.
Now it was worse, because she could swear that he was looking at her and seeing the ruin of the Hyuuga.
But his gaze demanded answers, and so she spoke. "I can't be so accepting," she murmured, gaze focused away because she couldn't look at him. "I can't just say… 'Oh, that's fate, it was always meant to happen and nothing could have changed it,' and have that be that. I… I can't do that, Neji-niisan."
He was silent for a moment, and then let out a soft sigh. "Hinata-sama," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. More calmness. More blankness. For a wild moment, grief-ridden and feeling more and more unbalanced by his continued lack of visible grief, Hinata was tempted to hit him. Would that get a reaction? Would that make him be something other than so damnably calm? She thought she'd preferred him better when he was younger, angrier, looking at her with resentment and something only a little bit shy of outright malice.
"Hinata-sama, look at me," he said quietly, his voice gaining a slight edge of insistence. She didn't, until she felt his hand on her jaw, bringing her face up so that their eyes met. She said nothing, merely stared at him.
"I haven't thought that in years," he said quietly. "Hinata-sama… my duty is the protection of the Main House. More specifically, of you and your sister. To have failed in that…" he broke off for a moment, his jaw clenching, the little motion of muscle the only visible signs of the tension Hinata found herself suddenly aware of. "To have failed in that is something I cannot simply accept."
There was a part of her that was wary of Neji – that had been, ever since the days when he'd radiated resentment at her so very clearly. Since he'd tried to kill her during the Chuunin exams. She didn't know if she could ever let go of that memory – but now, studying him, hearing the honest self-reproach in his voice, she realized how far they had both come in the years since then.
"It wasn't your fault," she whispered, feeling the drying tearstreaks begin to itch on her cheeks. "There… was nothing you could have done." The life of a shinobi carried risk – that was inescapable.
"I will not fail again," he promised her softly. "Hinata-sama…"
