Hey! So, admittedly not one of my multi-chapter stories, but this has been leaping around in my head for a while. I've been writing out about a million one shots, however, so this will be my sort-of one shot bank and I have no reason to doubt that this fic will be updated more frequently than the others. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in here, except the plot.
Neji Hyuga isn't one for speaking. His voice comes out through his music, the soothing romanticism of the saxophone, and the pouring out of his soul through jazz melodies.
He'd spent the majority of his high school life leading the school's brass ensemble and earning what seemed like millions of music scholarships, but accepted none. Music was an unhindered art, a form of self-expression for a true musician. Then again, his uncle was the one who'd strong armed him into law school, so he couldn't have accepted the scholarships even if he wanted to.
Seven years later, after a mind-numbingly boring first day at the Hyuga's Law Firm, he accidentally kicks open the saxophone case he hasn't thought about opening in years. The temptation would've killed him if he had, and Neji finds himself ghosting his fingers over the golden buttons again, and polishing the medium of his spirit.
When Neji places his lips over the mouthpiece, he's surprised that he still remembers every note and every smooth sound that echoes out of his saxophone. He closes his eyes, relishing in the nostalgia and the comfort he feels playing his instrument.
Halfway through Careless Whisper, a shy knock resonates on his door, which he would've missed if he wasn't busy reflecting on his younger years. He strides towards the door and calmly swings it open, even though on the inside he wants to burst with song and dance.
"May I help you?"
A brunette is standing in front of him, long hair soaking wet from tonight's onslaught of rain. She's shivering in her thin raincoat and sticky black jeans, and smiles as politely as possible without letting her teeth chatter even more rapidly.
"Hey, I'm Tenten," he raises an eyebrow at Tenten. She continues, wrapping her arms around her waist to maintain warmth, "I heard you playing, earlier. The saxophone. It's beautiful."
He nods, feeling a slight blush forming on his cheeks. "Thank you."
There's an awkward silence before she opens her mouth again. "My mother always said that if the eyes were the windows into one's soul, then music was the soul emanating from a person's heart. I feel that - felt that - when I heard you play before. It doesn't happen every day."
Neji's slightly taken aback by her words, because the last time someone had said those words was when he was seventeen and morbidly packing up his saxophone after his mother passed away. He doesn't know why he invites the shivering girl inside, and doesn't know why he feels like opening up his heart to her, but he does anyway. "My mother did too," he whispers quietly, after she's changed into the spare clothes that he's grown out of and drying her hair with a fluffy towel. "Before she passed away."
Judging by the understanding hug she gives him, she knows of the same sorrow - the same painful tugging at your heartstrings that threatens to pull the happiness from your body when you think of a lost loved one. He welcomes the embrace, even though it's from a stranger, because suddenly he doesn't care about the stern Hyuga gazes and the corporate industry, or the money that helps him live comfortably in his apartment.
Tented believes in music, understands it the same way he does.
They break apart, shyly avoiding each other's gazes. He's mildly apprehensive about the situation, even though he's talked himself up mentally earlier on. Who was this woman? What if she was dangerous? Why was she here?
She seems to realise the gravity of the situation too.
"So, do I need I file a search warrant on your life?" He jokingly asks her.
"No," she waves her hands around airily, "I'm actually surprised you haven't recognised me yet."
He looks at her closely, taking in the heart-shaped jawline and plump lips and sparkling amber irises. Nothing registers in his brain, except for the fact that she is extremely attractive and smells like pine wood.
If anything, the fact that he honestly does not recognise her brings another twinkle to her eyes. "I sing, professionally."
Ah.
Friday nights at the Grand Peyton. Occasional concerts in the Hokage Arena, and frequent compilations with some A-list singers. He doesn't know why it took him so long. "You're Soul Asylum. Tenten. Heavens. That's fitting," the corners of his lips quirk up in amusement.
She smiles back. "I know. My mother came up with it for me. It has a nice ring to it."
He sits back, letting his ponytail fall down his back. "So how do you know I won't try to harm you then?"
"You won't. Women's intuition," she shoots him a wink, before mirroring his actions and sitting back. "And, I need you." Seeing the confused expression on his face, she elaborates. "I've been looking for someone special for a long time now, someone who feels music the way I do."
Neji doesn't miss her pointed gaze. "And you think I'm the one." At her insistent nodding, he continues, "what if I was? What would that mean for the both of us later on?"
"It means," she starts fidgeting uncomfortably on his couch, "I get a musical accompaniment for my career to flourish. And you..."
Tenten breaks off her sentence when she realises how selfish she sounds.
Neji jumps up and walks over to the kitchen calmly. "I am a lawyer, for Hyuga Industries. My job is to uphold justice, not merrily play tunes for a living." He pours himself a glass of water and sits down at the breakfast bar to face her. The crackling fireplace is making her glow with a fire-y warmth; he tears his gaze away to look at the fire instead. "Saxophone stopped being a part of my life a long time ago - there will only be benefits for you, and you know that." He closes his grey eyes, inhaling deeply before repeating the same sentence his uncle said to him years prior. "There is no life in music."
"That's not true," she replies softly, "and you know that."
He nods imperceptibly. "Even so, I see no outcome for myself if I become your musical accompaniment - your tool, so to speak."
"True," he appreciates that she doesn't deny the truth in his words, and acknowledges that maybe she isn't as pure and innocent as he initially thought she was. After all, all rising stars need to be competitive to make it big like she is. "I'll tell you what, I'll be recording in town for a while, so swing by," she grabs her soaking wet purse an extracts a laminated business card from it, "my agent's number - I'll let him know to expect your call. Come over, bring your sax - show us what else you've got in your arsenal."
Neji shakes his head, but takes the card anyway and places it on the table. Looking outside, the rain has lightened considerably, so he opens the front door. "I won't be. Please see yourself out."
He watches her slender body slump in disappointment and gathers up her belongings before striding out into the cold.
"Wait." He patiently obeys her command; one second wouldn't do him any harm. "What's your name?"
She looks at him expectantly with her large eyes, and he concedes. "Neji."