A/N: Please enjoy.

The summons had come unexpectedly, and only a month after Udon had finished his training as a teacher-priest. A self-effacing old retainer Shikamaru had warmly greeted as Hara-jiisan, had brought a missive from his master and mistress. The letter requested that their son send word if he could meet them on the fifteenth of the next month. Neji had been more than a little bemused when the small genial man had added that if the young master would consent to attend, the location would be confirmed four nights before the appointed date. Shikamaru on the other hand sighed wearily, prompting a kind, patient smile from the aged servant. It was only later that Shikamaru explained to Neji that the arrangement was practically code for trouble brewing in the main house. Such secrecy meant that the spies of the other clan elders were on the move.

After Iruka had approved a fortnight's leave from the temple, and after Hara-jiisan had left with Shikamaru's coded reply to his parents, a sealed scroll had arrived by falcon on the third morning. Barely half an incense stick's amount of time had passed before Shikamaru had deciphered the code and informed Neji of their destination- Agni City, The Crucible of Fire Country.

Neji had been filled with both trepidation and anticipation. Having been cloistered at the secluded Hyuuga Branch Family Mansion as a guardian of the Byakugan, the jealously guarded inheritance of the clan's mystical pale eyes, Neji had only ever had city life described to him by the many young guests of the temple and by Shikamaru. Even on the single occasion when he had visited one, having been permitted to join the greatest temple manhunt for an escaped senior of his, Kabuto, he had been too busy darting around searching for leads to indulge in the experience of city life. He had been an intruder, disrupting the erratic pace of life that he brushed past in urgent pursuit of the renegade novice.

Shikamaru had laughed to hear Neji's honest confession of the conflicting emotions striving within him, but had quickly promised his bonded partner that they would have their fill of what the city had to offer before they returned home.

Still, Agni City might be too much for the hermit that Neji knew he was. It was, after all, the most-

"My mom's going to nag at me again," Shikamaru blurted with a heavy breath. The sliding shuffle of his feet echoed the weighted reluctance in his tone. Neji's faint frown over Agni City's somewhat disturbing reputation evaporated in a soft commiserating smile.

"Auntie's always very concerned about you," he placated, leaning closer towards Shikamaru as they made their way down the corridor towards the bright archway that led to the hall. Beneath the subdued lighting, their official pure white priestly robes were dyed the colour of sunset. Neji's forehead was bound once more with an iridescent band that veiled the cursed seal every Hyuuga branch member was forcibly graven with. The shimmering fabric bore the sacred Mark of the Leaf embroidered in gold thread. Shikamaru bore the same golden holy symbol like an insignia of rank over his left arm. The golden Mark proclaimed their elevated status as Deva- the highest guardians of the Eldest Tree.

Truthfully, Neji had been a little surprised that the laidback Shadow Master had suggested that they don their official robes. Back at the Hidden Leaf, seasoned priests and acolytes would scatter from a fuming Neji as he stalked the temple grounds looking for his recalcitrant partner, Shikamaru's neglected official robes folded neatly across his briskly flapping sleeves.

Just moments ago however, he had nearly dropped the more casual kimono outfits and the woollen sweaters that he'd been deliberating between, when Shikamaru drawled that it was too troublesome to pick out something, and that going with their priestly robes would save them the unnecessary chore. It was about as startling as Kiba going on a walk alone, complaining about how Akamaru was too noisy. Kiba was as inseparable from his faithful canine companion and boisterous activities, as Shikamaru was from thin fabrics that either hung loosely about his frame, or hugged it snugly, both styles keeping the fabrics well out of the way of his treasured freedom. The Shadow Master hated his official robes that came in a multitude of heavy layers, with sleeves that folded voluminously with the slightest shift of his arm. Now he wore them as finely as he would at a meeting of the Deva Council, albeit in a gait that suggested he was offering himself to the gallows. Pale eyes watched the lengths of damp hair that hid Shikamaru ears and the ugly silver loops that he wore on them. The Hyuuga resisted the sudden urge to stroke those barely veiled ears, hated earrings and all. Beneath the show of ill humoured reluctance, was a wary foreboding that Shikamaru wrestled with in his own distracted way.

"You're only saying that because she's always nice to you," Shikamaru retorted, drawing Neji away from his private disquiet once again.

"Maybe if you tried smiling before her instead of your usual scowl…" Neji suggested and grinned when Shikamaru folded his arms behind his head and grunted.

"You're probably the only one who smiles in front of that lioness," he mumbled to the shadowed maroon ceiling. "Well that's a good thing, though."

"Mn," Neji softly agreed, his heartbeats quickening involuntarily at the subtle implications.

"Who's a lioness?"

The sharp demand made Shikamaru pause mid-slide and brought a wide smile to Neji's bright lips.

"Auntie, you've returned," the Divination Master greeted with mastered joy, crossing past the archway into the fully lit hall. Two familiar faces watched him with similar expressions of welcome.

"Neji, you're as splendid as always!" The woman, who had only just struck the Shadow Master with the harshly voiced challenge, now lifted her face in a smile that wove itself beautifully into a countenance dominated by fiercely shaped brows and rich chocolate eyes. Those eyes glittered with a naturally inviting light, deceptively folding their lethal force in velvet charm. Her nose, with a bridge that was just shy of a steeper angle that would have drawn the caress of an admiring gaze to the vivid pools of her eyes, instead led one to fall along the ridge and draw back instinctively at the firm peak that rose with bold yet unmistakable femininity in its fine curves. Lips, tight as a bowstring, were now wound into an apologetic smile. "Do guide my son as much as you can."

"He's not an animal tamer, Yoshino," a gruffer but more relaxed voice teased jovially beside the formidable woman.

"Uncle." Neji continued with his greeting, his smile now for the more warlike, but no less charming Herbalist King and Spy Master of Fire Country, Nara Shikaku, Head of the Nara Clan. Husband to the lovely Lady Yoshino, who was sworn-sister of the Daimyo's elder sister, and father to Shadow Master, the Deva Shikamaru, exalted high priest of the Great Temple of the Hidden Leaf, Nara Shikaku's rank and fame exceeded even that of what his own ancient clan enjoyed, and rivalled that of Neji's own uncle and current Head of the fearsome and far more established Hyuuga clan, Hiashi.

Bowing before the two seated elders before him and receiving their returning nods, Neji's attention shifted along Shikaku's dramatically frayed pale brown collar and lapels, reminding the Deva of a bristling pelt. Its jagged edges stretched themselves like a wild mantle across the broad, dark green leather shoulder and neck guards of his armour-vest. The bushy, high ponytail that plumed behind Shikaku only enhanced the bestial effect, and was somehow reminiscent of the Beast Master, Deva Kiba Inuzuka, though Shikaku lacked Kiba's feral element, his short but thick goatee more befitting of his status as the Nara Clan leader than wild or unkempt.

"Our cub has a mind of his own," Shikaku reminded his wife, his eyes twinkling in good-natured humour, somehow softening both the livid scars that tore his face and the prominent cheek bones and jaw that framed it in a masculine severity worthy of the fear and respect he commanded in the continent.

"Don't you start encouraging your son," Yoshino snapped, drawing a sigh and a grimace from Shikaku as his wife dragged the slender, white ceramic tokkuri wine flask away from her husband's wine cup. "You've had too much to drink," she declared, silencing any protest from a defeated Shikaku.

"Whipped," Shikamaru whispered from the archway, and Neji turned to see his partner leaning against one of the pillars with a disdainful scowl. He wondered if Shikamaru knew that he had inherited his mother's face, though the wider cheekbones from his father broadened it and granted him a face that would not be amiss in the courtly robes of a treasured consort to the refined rulers of the Courtly Era. The image of fully matured manhood, captured eternally in taut curves that rolled easily over a strong yet composed frame, was further enhanced by brows that were as delicately, though less sternly, drawn over eyes shaped in a beautiful balance between Yoshino's and Shikaku's. They captured enough of the essence of his mother's entrancing wide eyes and combined in it, some of his father's focused shrewdness, resulting in steady, gleaning eyes that arrested an observer with the deeply glowing perception in those dark brown orbs. His hair was fully his father's, only somewhat tamer and neater, though the son had taken the natural ease and placidity and transformed it into an art form based on a single-minded aversion to effort. Regrettably, the Nara male tendency towards earrings was left untouched in both father and son.

"Don't make fun of your father!" Yoshino swiftly rebuked. "Stop slouching. A man should always stand straight to show his dignity, and bend only to show his respect."

"Yes," Shikamaru obediently replied, though he marred the effect as he remained unrepentant in the offending posture.

"Shikamaru," Neji reproved softly, before taking the lead and settling himself across Yoshino at the low table, his flowing robes folding in gentle cascades over the zabuton.

Sighing, Shikamaru peeled himself away from the column, and trudged up to the table, plopping gracelessly onto the seat cushion, right knee propped up while his arms stretched behind him as he leaned back and rested his weight on his palms. While both his mother and Neji frowned at him, Shikaku smirked with a gloating glint in his eyes that returned the scornful observation his son had made of him just a moment ago. Bad grace notwithstanding, Shikamaru had completely caved in to Neji's simple insistence.

"So? I take it this isn't just for the pleasure of our company," Shikamaru stated flatly, his eyes lowered to stare at a corner of the plain, but solidly built square redwood table, adorned with nothing save the carved circle in its centre. An allusion to the scriptures that philosophised that Heaven was squared and Earth rounded, so Shikamaru thought distractedly. Slowly warm fingers settled over his knee, a comforting grip holding onto him. The line of his jaw shifted by mere degrees, but Neji seemed to catch it all the same and eased his grip into a rhythmic pressure in an attempt to comfort the tension he sensed.

"What, no leisurely small talk?" Shikaku quipped, the strained smile on the Nara Clan leader only deepening his laugh lines and crows feet. Neji sensed more than felt Shikamaru's unease and could empathise. Hiashi had also aged considerably the last time his uncle had visited him and Shikamaru in the hospital with his two daughters. It had brought a pang of guilt that he hadn't spent more time with his uncle, and that he had not bothered to offer to bear some of the weight that the Hyuuga Clan leader had toiled beneath for decades.

"We came as soon as we could, but when we arrived we found the mansion was empty, and realised that you must have went out," Neji began, dutifully filling the awkward pause with polite chatter, "we hope our tardiness did not drive you into impatience."

"No, no," Shikaku quickly assured, turning to his wife, "Yoshino was-"

"I was just thinking of shopping for a few ingredients for dinner, and got carried away," Lady Yoshino continued at the prompting of her husband. "We only arrived this afternoon anyway," she added with a faint smile.

"By the time we returned, it was so late, we decided that we'd never finish in time, so we decided to wait for you boys to finish your bath before deciding on what takeout to order," Shikaku finished with a wry grin.

"He wanted to order first though," Yoshino remarked with an exasperated frown that drew a genuine smile from Neji.

"Yoshino-" Shikaku protested awkwardly, forcing Neji to bite his lip to hold back the laughter, but Shikamaru had already lost that battle.

Chuckling as his brows knitted helplessly, he covered his eyes with the back of one hand before sitting upright and facing his father with a rueful grin. "That's too pathetic, dad," Shikamaru declared in a heavy breath that was somewhat successful in smothering most of the mirth he still felt.

"Well, a good appetite is the mark of a healthy body," Shikaku casually reasoned, a much more sincere smile spreading across the exhaustion on his face.

"Let's talk after dinner then," Shikamaru conceded before turning an appraising look towards the Divination Master beside him. "Which reminds me, I don't think you've ever had takeout before."

"Is that true?" Yoshino asked, a note of admiration in her voice. "That's good breeding. I'm sorry that we're spoiling all of it."

"Not at all, I'm quite excited. I've always been sheltered in a traditional environment, I'd love to learn what the city has to offer," Neji admitted shyly, remembering how he had been a little unsettled that the modest guest room they had randomly occupied had no bath installed to soak in.

"It's like sending a lamb into a tiger's maw," Shikaku noted sagaciously with a sly wink for his son, who only rolled his eyes.

"True enough." Yoshino sighed gustily before a determined frown set in her brows. "Maybe we can make something quick," she wondered aloud, already half-rising from the table.

"Then please permit me to assist," Neji hastily requested, drawing himself up and hurrying after Shikamaru's mother as she swept into the adjoining kitchen.

"They'll make us wash and cut the vegetables you know," Shikamaru warned in a bored voice as he rested his chin on an open palm, elbow propped on the table.

"Not if they want to get it done quickly," his father countered with a smirk that annoyed his son, primarily because he couldn't think of anything that would wipe it off.

"Aaaaaah..." Shikaku sighed impatiently. "Even for food that good, waiting is still hard."

Shikamaru found himself fighting the urge to echo the sentiment. It was the least he could do.

"Shirataki?"

"No."

"Then, Somen?"

"No."

"Can't be Soba?"

"UDON! IT'S UDON!"

"Arf! Arf!"

Udon quaked with barely suppressed rage as Beast Master Kiba averted his face while he shook with badly contained laughter. The Deva's canine steed, a monstrously huge snow-white hound named Akamaru, mimicked his master's good humour with a wet lolling tongue and damp panting breaths.

He didn't know why the old just-call-him-a-bowl-of-noodles joke still got to him. The number of times he had seen that thick brown mane quivering gleefully, a painted crimson fang bright against a twitching tanned cheek, flashing incisor unsheathed against the amused curl of the corner of that wide mouth- no matter how many times, it was guaranteed to have him fuming in outrage.

"So-so… Udon, right? Figures it'd be that- you're a lot juicier than Soba," Kiba struggled to recover, mock innocence crumbling as he worked in one last gibe.

"Kiba-sama…" Udon began testily.

"Alright, alright," Kiba placated, his smoky brown eyes sparkling with moist mirth, completely calling the bluff of the solemn set of a wide and strongly framed face still flushed with badly restrained amusement. "I really do have an important message for you," he continued when the younger cleric's glare hardened flintily, "umn- you've been selected again."

Dark eyes widened and the bristling anger faded as the news set in heavily within Udon. Kiba watched him carefully, Akamaru whining softly beside him. "Oh," Udon ventured to recover from his lapse, "I… I'm honoured."

"Well- it's just a recommendation," Kiba clarified with a shrug of his shoulders, folding his flowing sleeves over his chest as he leaned against Akamaru, "and you just had one a fortnight ago. You could decline this time-"

Udon shook his head numbly, managing a weak smile that wavered for a second before his pale face fell in a frown. "I know I'm being childish; I swore to accept such duties the day I was ordained."

Kiba sighed and scratched his head reflexively. "He'll understand. Konohamaru's a good kid." Akamaru barked his agreement.

Udon nodded with a wan smile, before lowering himself in a bow, the practised formula already by his lips. "Thank you, Kiba-sama. I humbly accept the honour that the Council has granted me." He rose to see the Beast Master returning the gesture with a slight one of his own, but the response was no phatic string of words.

"Shikamaru and Neji left you in my care," he finished simply as he straightened up. "If there's anything, your big bro's here for you," he added with a wide, feral grin.

Udon could only offer a strained smile to the words that almost bruised him with the memory of a relinquished past, and hurt him with the clarity that his elders indulged his hypocrisy, even as he himself was repulsed by his own behaviour. He had chosen this path, even with the knowledge that however brightly Konohamaru smiled in encouragement, the pain hidden behind that strong front was a dark rent that he had torn.

"Then…" Kiba interrupted his thoughts in the tone of someone summing up, "they'll send the file over sometime tomorrow, probably. The details over the room allotment and everything should be confirmed by then."

"I promised my class a field session-" Udon began, but Kiba shook his head dismissively.

"Those scamps can wait another week or so. If need be, I'll take over from your relief for a day so they get to practice their…" Kiba faltered uncertainly.

"Transformation Technique," Udon promptly provided, unable to help the tiny grin despite the weighted feeling in his chest.

"Transformation Technique? Oh, man… there's gonna be at least a dozen of them doing Iruka-sama, running around and demanding I pay my respects and all…" the Deva groaned.

"And at least half-a-dozen of you and Akamaru," Udon added with a somewhat wicked grin, "miniaturized too, since they haven't quite got the size bit under control yet."

Akamaru growled a low rumble in his throat, wet nose scrunched up in distaste, and traded a dark look with Kiba.

"Pffft- aha-ahahaha-"

Dog and Deva turned puzzled looks at the helplessly laughing priest, cheeks stained red with emotion, but lashes shining with tears.

"Udon-" Kiba called, though unsure of what he could say.

"Ah- it's too much… both of you looked so alike… ahaha-" Udon pleaded breathlessly, clutching himself in the laughter that he crushed out of his trembling body.

The western sky had cooled into an ashen grey hemmed in by a tide of midnight blue. A tumble of twinkling stars rippled in the twilight heavens like winking pebbles in a stream. Steadily a breeze stirred a restless hiss throughout the darkened forest ringing the temple city of the Hidden Leaf, scattering cascades of ripped foliage to rattle against the corrugated tiles on the roofs, and the quiet passageway that wound past the sliding panel door of Konohamaru's personal quarters.

Hair still damp from his bath, he shivered in the loose green sweater he wore, his lemon-yellow boxer briefs serving him much more poorly as the ominous signs of a storm pelted this silent corner of the temple. Had he cared to venture into the Banquet Halls, he would have been assailed by the colour and grace that the temple's best orchestrated for the current batch of hopeful youths who nervously treaded across finely polished floorboards for their first official meeting with the senior clerics, better known as the Acquaintance Dinner. Managing a small smile even as his teeth chattered in the chill of the night, he thought back to his own clumsy attempt several years back, ending disastrously with his abrupt fainting before the food had even been served- not that there would have been any stage in the dinner where fainting would have been appropriate.

"Aaaah… I should get inside," he whined to the night, though he made no move to relinquish his seat on the white marble railing of the balustrade. Udon was unusually late, and Konohamaru could only assume that temple matters had held him up. While the priest had his own quarters in the Inner Bower Chambers in the northern halls of the temple, unless Udon sent word that he had duties that would keep him for the night, the breath-stealing vision of a deep brown fringe that rolled down slight shoulders above the rolling harmony of his willowy frame, would surely emerge around the corner of the dead angle formed by the base of the smaller north-eastern aerie that the hermits used. Some nights, Udon bedded with Konohamaru, other nights they reluctantly parted before the Inner Bower Chambers, with the young hermit unhappy that he could follow his lover no further. Having received no panting messenger acolyte offer his apologies on the priest's behalf, he fixed an anxious gaze on the rounded corner of the tower base, torn between getting inside to change so that he could station himself further along the passageway but risk missing Udon's entrance whilst changing, or to continue guarding this spot while his mind worked itself into a panicked frenzy.

It was half a stick of incense's time later, while he was still wavering indecisively, that he distantly heard a soft shuffling. Rising from his perch, he forgot about whatever anyone might think of him clad in barely more than his underwear, and raced up the passageway as a bowed head of drooping dark brown locks loomed over stooped shoulders. Even reduced to this state, it was unmistakably Udon who clung as he slipped against the smooth wall. By the time Konohamaru had rushed to the priest's side, Udon had lifted his head to absorb the image before him, bloodshot eyes peering guiltily up at him. Konohamaru's brows wrinkled at the scent of alcohol wafting from the kneeling priest.

"You've been drinking?" Konohamaru murmured as he knelt beside Udon and wrapped his arm around the shamefaced cleric.

"Sorry," Udon whispered softly as Konohamaru hoisted him to his feet.

The young hermit let an awkward silence fall between them as he supported his lover down the corridor.

"How much?" Konohamaru wanted to know after they had managed a little more than half of the journey.

"Three flasks," Udon replied quietly, his gaze averted to their shuffling feet.

"Mn. It's not much, but you don't hold your liquor well," Konohamaru noted in a carefully neutral tone, leaning over to brush a light kiss against Udon's burning cheek. "Next time, bring the wine home and we'll share it, ok?"

Udon made no reply, though Konohamaru could feel the subdued priest relax against his hold. As they reached the shoji panel and Konohamaru slid the door open, Udon suddenly rested faintly trembling fingers on the taller youth's cheek. Turning instinctively, he found a struggling dark gaze brimming desperately as it focused on him.

"I won't… do it again…" Udon began but Konohamaru shook his head, and bumped his forehead against Udon's.

"I know, just remember that I'll get worried next time," he reminded soothingly, "so don't make that frightened face, I'm not so mean that I'll scold someone who's already upset." Feeling Udon stiffen, Konohamaru restrained himself from probing any further and nodded to the spread out futons laid beside each other in the unlit darkness. The perfume of faded lavender ghosted from the cooling pewter incense burners that the hermit had filled earlier, long before sunset.

"You probably haven't had anything to eat?" Konohamaru asked as he helped Udon into the room, easing him down beside the nearest futon and peeling back the thick cotton covers.

"Might not… hold it down," Udon declined, exhaustion thick in his voice.

Konohamaru nodded briefly, guiding his old friend onto the soft mattress, before drawing the warm covers over him.

"Warm," the priest complained and Konohamaru squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"I'll bring some moist towels and wipe you down in just a moment. Meanwhile I don't want you catching a cold. It feels like a storm is coming," he explained, patting Udon's hand then rolled back onto his feet, abruptly pausing as slender fingers held his fingertips entreatingly. Konohamaru favoured the reluctance in the knitted brows with a reassuring smile.

"It'll only be a few moments," he promised but Udon only tightened his grip, pale pink lower lip creased as he chewed it back, as if to stem the words that swam in the tortured light of his eyes.

Konohamaru sighed and lowered his knees to the polished wooden floor again, draping himself over the stricken youth's heaving chest. Listening to the rapid heartbeats, he permitted them to draw his own breath in a race. His chest tightened painfully, even with the fevered embrace of trembling arms around his head.

"You know… I'll be… fine," Konohamaru gasped, breaths fleeing him as urgently as his heart clutched for them.

Udon's silence was worse than the apology Konohamaru had been prepared to argue furiously against.

Later that evening, even the merciless battering of hard rain seemed to fall behind the frantic chase of their sheltering hearts.

TBC