Thanks for everyone's concern about the surgery! In case you're wondering, everything went fine. Also, I got over my writer's block, thanks to rap music...

Thanks to: KyuubiNineDeaths, InnerCameron, multi guy, RikoYuzuyu13, Stephy-chan, 0 bloodrose 0, Dragon of Twilight, AngelBornofHell, wingedangel52, Midami Uchiha of the Sand, The Full Moon Crys, xXHeatherMustangXx

Honestly? I needed 3 more reviews. But i posted for you guys cuz i love you.

All Around Me by Flyleaf
I Will Hide Myself Away by Cartel (I could only come up with songs for Meg's POV)

Chapter 3 – Love

(Meg's POV)

There are so many people here, but they're all pretty much ignoring me. I'm a four-year-old, cute to look at on occasion, but not really noticeable. That's what I assume, but that can't be quite right. People tend to notice little girls who yell at the top of their lungs.

"Mooooooommy!" I shriek. I always called her Mommy, as a little girl, not Mum. Americanized, I guess. I'm not sure why, but that's how it is. She's Mommy.

People look down at me uncomfortably as they pass. Like maybe they feel like they should help, but they don't really want to.

I should feel scared, but I'm not really. I'm screaming…but I know it will be okay. Mommy won't leave me. She'll always be there… But now there's someone else here…the thought races through me, and continuing to yell for Mom, I look around.

No one. At least…no one who is raising my suspicions. Just then, mommy scoops me up, chiding me. "Don't ever scare me like that again!" she exclaims.

I bury my face in her warm shoulder, and whisper, "I won't," but my mind is distracted. Who is there? I want to ask.

Suddenly, I spiral away from my mother, eighteen again. Black surrounds me, coming to close, suffocating me…and then it releases. A red kanji fills my vision, and a deep voice fills my ears. "Love," it says, and all my protections break down…

I gasped and sat up. Shock raced through me, and I jumped out of the bed, reaching for parchment and a quill. I scribbled the kanji down, and wrote love beneath it.

"But what does it mean?" I hissed, running my hands through my messy hair. "Could it be something to do with mom, or maybe dad? No, that wasn't one of their voices. Love…love…what can it mean? Perhaps someone…love…" I continued talking like this until I realized that the same presence was in the room with me. It drew me up short, and I glanced around furtively. No one was there, just like in the dream. I shook my head. This was probably the result of too much speculation with Draco and Patricia.

I went to bed again—after all, it was only about seven—and tried to go back to sleep. But I couldn't shake the strange feeling that there was someone there with me. Eventually, I fell into a restless sleep.

When I woke up again, it was past eight. Uncomfortable, I got up to go to find a place to shower. The presence, or whatever it was, was gone. I was alone. "Manny!" I hissed. With a loud crack he appeared. The crack echoed throughout the house, and I winced. "Manny, could you be a bit more quiet?"

"Sorry, mistress. How may I help you?" he asked respectfully. He looked down, still respectfully, although it made me a bit uncomfortable.

I smiled, and murmured, "Can you show me where I can take a shower? I need to refresh myself."

"Shower?" His small, bat-like face showed confusion.

"Er, sorry. Bath. Could you please show me where a bath is?"

"Of course. Right this way…" He led me down a few halls, until he came to a bathroom. He showed me a towel, shampoo, the soap… "Will that be all you'll be needing?"

"Yes, thank you," I said quickly. I closed the door behind him, as he left, and turned the faucet on, plugging the drain. Wizards were so weird, I thought, as I watched the tub fill up. No showers…I had hated that fact throughout my stay at Hogwarts. Muggles had the right idea—using baths for babies and pampering, and showers for everyday quick use. I'm fairly certain that it's impossible to take a quick bath.

I'd grown up with everything muggle—showers, electricity, the whole nine yards. It wasn't like we had any muggles living with us, although we did live in a muggle neighborhood, but mom liked muggle things. As shown by her first marriage.

I used to think that she did it out of memory for him, her first husband. I asked her once, and she just sort of looked at me, like she was seeing me for the first time. "No," she said. "I do it because I like muggles. Where would we be without muggles? Even though they aren't directly affiliated with wizard society, they're a big part of our life. Plus, a lot of things they do make more sense."

As shown by the shower/bath example. It was true, though. I'd never thought of it, but mom had a way of explaining things that no one else really could. I knew Mr. Weasley liked muggles, too, but for him, it wasn't because what they did made so much more sense; he found their little quirks intriguing.

Right now, I wished I had my computer, and that I could look up the kanji that was still bugging me. I knew it meant something to me, but I couldn't figure out what.

A few minutes later, I sank into the bathtub, submerging myself completely. The water wasn't painfully hot, but it was a bit hotter than I was used to. "Spoiled rich people…" I muttered under my breath. For a minute I rested, comfortable in the bath. (See? It's impossible to be quick.)

I reached for the bottle of shampoo, and gasped in agony as I got a splitting headache. It literally felt like my head was cracking down the middle. I grabbed my head in an effort to put it back together. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to breathe.

Then came the memories.

They rushed in, one at a time, and I couldn't see any of them, but I suddenly knew why 'love' was so important.

Then I fainted.

I came to later, lying on my bed. I was wearing a cream-colored bathrobe, and my hair was put up in a towel. My head still hurt really badly, but that really didn't matter. I could have gotten up and danced. I remembered!

I looked around me, still lying down, since I really wasn't a good dancer. No one was in the room with me, but again, I felt that presence.

The door burst open, and Patricia rushed into the room. "Oh, good. You're awake! You had me so worried! Just imagine how I felt to come to the bathroom to take a bath, and to find you passed out underwater! It was terrifying. If you're going to take a bath, don't turn the water so high!" She took a deep breath.

"Wow. Didn't know you knew that many words," I mumbled.

She smiled wryly. "She speaks!" Out of the blue, the smile left her face, and her eyes narrowed. "There's someone else here."

I nodded. "I feel it, too."

She just nodded, not really paying attention to me, anymore. I suddenly realized that she was just looking at a corner.

I looked over there, confused. I didn't see anyone, or anything of interest, yet her eyes didn't budge. Something clicked, then. "You can see whoever it is, can't you?"

She didn't respond, and I took that as a yes. "How?" I asked.

She looked at me coolly and shook her head. She wasn't going to answer. Fine. Abruptly, I remembered the reason for my…ah…sudden lack of consciousness. "Patricia!" I gasped out. "I remember!"

She looked at me. "Hmm?"

"I mean," I said significantly, "I remember."

"Remember," she said slowly, "as in, remember, remember?"

I just nodded. I could almost see the wheels in her brain turning as she made sense of what I said. In the meantime, I slowly counted the beats of silence. Five, four, three, two, one…

"OH, MY GOSH! YOU REMEMBER?!"

Bingo. "Yep. Everything. I remember everything. I remember him…Gaara." I'm sure a goofy smile spread across my face when I said this.

She grinned happily. "Well this is great! We know it's possible, now! How did you do it? Tell me everything that we've forgotten!"

"It's kind of hard to explain—" I started, but I cut off when Patricia suddenly leapt into the air and dived towards that corner.

"OH, NO YOU DON'T!!" she shrieked.

I stared at her like she was crazy, but slowly deduced that for some reason, whoever was in the corner was leaving. Or…he was attempting to.

Patricia was gripping something—or someone, I supposed. "Now. Explain. Why are you here?" I stared at her in confusion. She was nodding, so I decided that whomever she had was telling her everything she wanted to know. Probably because he was confused that she could see him. Slowly she started to relax. "Is there anyway you could do the same for us?" Her brow furrowed. I deducted that he had answered in the negative. Okay. "Will it not work that way?" She looked a bit more disappointed. "Okay…Well…thank you." She released whoever it was, and turned back to me. Her eyes inspected me critically. "So. You really remember."

I was sitting up by now, and I nodded. "Everything."

She looked more frustrated. "I was hoping it wouldn't be this way. I wanted us to all figure this out together. But according to our little—" her eye twitched as she said this "—buddy, no one else will be able to figure it out like you did. Turns out, he entered your dreams and gave you an image that was indirectly related to what you wanted to remember."

"Oh!" I said. "So that's where that came from. But…can wizards do that?"

"He wasn't a wizard. He said he was…a mononoke, I think. Whatever that is. He said that he could enter into your dreams because there are no boundaries on time, space, or reality for a mononoke. It was easy to go back and pick an image that would spark your memories, or so he said."

I sat in stunned silence. "Why would he do that?"

She shrugged. "He said something about helping a bunny."

Now my eye twitched. "A…bunny?"

Again, she shrugged. "I just report the stuff, okay? I don't come up with it."

"How did you even see him? I couldn't. Do you have some sort of magical creature blood in you?" I asked.

She stiffened. "Why would you think that?" she said slowly.

My eyes narrowed. "Because… you saw the mononoke. You held it. I've heard of mononoke before, because I was raised in a muggle environment. I had friends that were muggle. We liked anime. I know what a mononoke is—it's a spirit." I paused taking a breath. "I couldn't see it. I probably wouldn't have been able to touch it. But, Patricia, you did."

She shook her head. "I'm no less human than you."

"I never said you weren't. Look, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, okay? But just know you can trust me, okay? I just want to be your friend." My words were honest. I didn't lie.

She nodded. "Thank you." She sighed, and ran her fingers through her platinum blonde hair. "I'm…going to go to my room, now. If you need anything, that's where I'll be. Draco left to get something…ingredients for veritaserum; I think he said. He actually had a pretty good idea…well, I'll let him explain it when he gets back."

I smiled at her, and she returned it. "Bye." She left the room.

I laid back on the bed, thinking about everything that had been revealed. "Gaara." I whispered his name again, liking the feel of it on my tongue. I started rifling through my memories of the beginning of last year. I liked these a lot better than the ones that had been placed in my mind instead. These were full of flavor and happiness.

Hinata really did look like me; it was a little strange. I wondered...maybe she's related to Mom's first husband...I wiped the thought from my head quickly; i didn't like to think of him. I missed her almost as much as I missed Gaara. Not quite as much, but still. I felt like I really belonged with them both, even more so than I had belonged with my old friends, who had stopped coming around after my mom died. They didn't like me then, because I was so closed up; so mopey.

It was easy to argue that perhaps they just weren't very good friends, but I think they just didn't understand. They couldn't really empathize. Gaara, though, he could. He'd never told me much about him, but I could tell he didn't have parents, either. Hinata, too. Or at least, she didn't have good ones. She'd told me a little bit about her dad, how he was always so overbearing and judgemental. I felt sorry for her.

I'd never really been a good friend to her. She'd said I was, but I wasn't sure she really felt that way. It was nice to hear. I just wasn't a good friend to have, especially with everyone around me dying. I really wasn't sure how I'd managed to make these friends.

Whatever the reason, I was glad.

I was getting closer to the night of the obliviation and the great battle. I couldn't believe it had all really happened. Not just the obliviation, but also the remembering. That was the more important part.

And he kissed me? I almost squealed, which really disturbed me, since I'd never been one to go goo-goo over boys. Yet here I was, hyperventilating because the so-called 'guy of my dreams' had kissed me.

Ironically, I realized that he was the guy of my dreams, as that had no doubt been his voice saying 'love' in my dream.

By now, I was just thinking random thoughts that barely strung together. I pushed Gaara from my mind, except for the fact that somehow, I needed to get to him.

For some reason, I had a feeling that he didn't live in England. No, I remembered—a trill ran through me at that word—he and his friends had been speaking Japanese.

So…Japan, maybe? Close, I thought, but no cigar. Japan didn't seem quite right. But where else would they be?

Something Patricia had said popped into my head. 'He said that he could enter into your dreams because there are no boundaries on time, space, or reality for a mononoke.'

I'd taken reality to mean that he could enter my dreams. But (theoretically), what if dreams were really more like another dimension? Then could he cross between dimensions, as well? Gaara and Hinata had never really seemed like they were from this world. What if they were from another dimension, a different layer of the world? And if that were the case, how did I find them?

The last question stumped me.

I looked for answers in my memory. They'd been here on a mission; they'd called it, for their shinobi village. They were protecting Harry Potter, who had, yet again, been the target of a dark wizard…or in this case, a rogue ninja. No doubt, McGonagall had asked them to be here. She'd always been very protective of the next generation. And if it hadn't been her idea, she would have agreed pretty quickly, if she knew the person in charge of the ninja.

So…it was likely that McGonagall remembered everything, since they'd obviously trusted her enough to send their ninja to England on a mission to help her. I needed to talk to her.

The only problem was that I had no idea where to talk to her. I could go back to Hogwarts, but that would be difficult enough as it was, since I'd have to apparate to Hogsmeade. I couldn't apparate very well as it were. Then, I'd have to walk to Hogwarts, figure out the password to her office, and convince her to give me a portkey, or whatever I'd need, to get back to them.

I really only wanted to do the last part.

Then there was always the threat that she wouldn't even be there…

I sighed and closed my eyes. I was really tired, even though I'd slept relatively well and had just fainted a few minutes ago.

…And I still need to take a bath. I sighed and stood, walking slowly out of my room, down the halls, and into the bathroom. It was empty, so I closed the door behind me. The clothes I'd laid out were still sitting on the counter, so I wouldn't even have to go back and get them.

Someone had emptied the bathtub, so I filled it again, taking care not to make it quite so hot this time. When it was full, I took of the bathrobe and stepped in. This time, I made myself rush. It still took longer than a shower would have, I noted sourly. When I finished, I got out and got dressed, keeping the towel wrapped around my head.

I returned to my room to get a hairbrush when I heard the front door open.

Strangely, even with two extra people in it, the house still felt like an empty shell. I wondered how Draco could stand it. Thinking back, he hadn't seemed too fond of it when he'd introduced it to us.

My hair was drying now, so I headed down stairs, hoping there would be some breakfast left over.

I practically ran down the stairs, relishing in the fact that I could. After all, at Hogwarts, it was impossible to go down the stairs at a pace faster than an inchworm might move across a fallen leaf. In the process, I almost ran into Draco, but I managed to stop myself. "Hey, Draco!" I said cheerfully.

He looked a bit confused at my levity. "Hello. Are you feeling better, then?"

"Oh, yes, much better." I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my hair. "Is there any breakfast left? I haven't eaten yet."

"Hmmm?" He was distracted, looking at a book. "Oh. Yes."

I glanced at what he was reading. "Veritaserum? Patricia mentioned something about that. What's up?"

He looked up. "Well, I thought maybe if I took veritaserum, and you asked me questions about the things that had been obliviated from my mind, maybe I'd have to tell the truth about it. And that might spark my memory."

"Wow. Slytherins are smarter than we Gryffindors give you credit for."

He smiled. "I'm sure it's the same the other way around, too."

I laughed. "I hope so." I paused. "Um. Which way is the kitchen?"

"Hmmm?" He'd buried his nose in the book again, and hadn't been listening. "Oh. It's that way." He pointed, and I set off in that general direction. I sort of wanted to explore the house, but I was hungry, and I did want to get there soon.

Strangely, though, it wasn't incredibly difficult to find. As big as the house was, the layout wasn't very confusing at all, very straightforward. Seemed like wizards scored a point when it came to housing. I'd been to plenty muggle houses this size and gotten lost very quickly.

I found a plate of food that was magically—and I'm not even being sarcastic when I say that—still warm. While I was eating, I remembered that I hadn't told Draco about the return of my memories, so I made a mental note to do that soon.

Suddenly, Draco flew into the room. "You remember?" he yelled. "And you didn't tell me?"

"Um." I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry?"

"How?" he asked, quickly brushing aside my forgetfulness.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure…Patricia explains it better than I do. Maybe you should ask her." I shrugged somewhat helplessly.

"I was about to explain before you ran in here like a raving lunatic," Patricia said dryly. "Now if you'll calm down…" She led him away, leaving me to eat my waffles in peace.

"Wow," I said after a minute. "These are some good waffles."

A painting beneath the clock raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?" the woman inside the painting said. "You remember all about the things that were obliviated from your mind, and all you can talk about is waffles?"

I just smiled and poured more syrup. "What can I say? They're better than pancakes."

The lady in the portrait sighed and promptly began to ignore me. Whatever. As if it really mattered what she said. I had more important things to consider, like how I was supposed to convince McGonagall to give me a portkey.

Hmmm…this was going to be very difficult. I sighed.

This was the part we hadn't thought of. We had planned on how to go about getting our memories back, but our grand plans had stopped then. We hadn't considered what we would do about the memories we found.

But now I had decided. I was going to get to Gaara—and Hinata—if it was the last thing I did.

"Sai, we have to move on." Sakura started the conversation; she always did. Never Sai, who was content to remain in silence, a false smile on his face.

Well, content wasn't the right word. He thought it should have been, but for some reason, he wasn't happy. Being new to feeling emotions, he wasn't sure what he was feeling, but he did know that he didn't like it. It had something to do with 'Snowflake', the witch who had accepted that he was a shinobi, a ninja, without doubting him—at least, she hadn't doubted long. And she had been so willing to help them in their cause. The cause supported them, but she hadn't revealed them…

He shook himself out of his reverie and looked back up at Sakura, realizing she was speaking.

"…not rational for us to still be thinking about them. They're across the world, and besides that, they don't even exist here…" Her voice trailed off. She was staring blankly ahead, her fists clenched in her lap.

They were sitting on a bench in the Konoha Park, watching children play. This was their D-rank mission, given to them by Tsunade, to 'keep their minds off of things better not remembered.' They were watching the academy students at recess, giving Shikamaru a 'well-deserved break', as Tsunade put it.

He looked back at her. Her soft pink hair was a bit untidy, since she was more concerned about working in the hospital, and not being useless, than taking care of herself. She was clean, though, but he suspected that it was only because she didn't want to bring anymore diseases or imperfections into the hospital. So most of the time, her hair was pulled back, and her forehead protector held her bangs back. She had bags under her eyes, from insomnia. She wasn't sleeping enough.

Before England, she hadn't been like this.

During England, she hadn't been like this.

It was only after when she came crashing down.

Her eyes used to sparkle; her skin was blemish free. She used to be happy, relaxed—well, not relaxed, but she wasn't so uptight. Now…she didn't care about much of anything.

It was sort of how he felt, but she showed it more freely. He had enough trouble understanding emotions, and he certainly didn't know how to show his emotions. So no one truly knew what he felt about leaving Patricia. He himself didn't… He didn't understand why it mattered so much, why she was so frequently on his mind. No one knew, except, he suspected, Sakura.

Since leaving England, they had been together almost constantly, so they had learned a lot about each other. Some people thought they were dating, but the truth was that they were just friends. The best of friends, practically inseparable.

The development had shocked people, least of all themselves. It was well known that Sakura was ready to kill Sai (or at least seriously injure him) at all times. So to see them chatting with no enmity was like seeing a whale walk into the ramen stand and ordering Naruto. (1)

The result of their abrupt bonding was that they knew each other better than anyone else did. Also, it sometimes felt like they knew each other better than they knew themselves. So it wouldn't have surprised Sai if Sakura knew exactly what he was feeling towards his precious little Snowflake.

But it was two-sided knowledge. As surely as she knew about his feelings, Sai knew about hers. She missed this Draco character as much as he missed Snowflake…

Patricia…

The name was like a whisper on the wind. He smiled at her memory. A real smile…

"I don't really want to forget, Sakura-chan," he said gently. He knew that now wasn't the time for nicknames. "I don't want to move on." He paused and looked at her, a bit of sadness teasing him. "You don't either. I can tell," he said simply, tapping his head.

She shook her head stubbornly. "I DO want to forget." She sighed, frustrated, and continued, "It's too stressful to remember him. To remember my friends… It's hard, because I know they can't remember me. How is that fair?"

Sai laughed. "It's not. But what in life is?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "That's not what I want to hear."

Sai smiled. "I know. But it's what you need to hear."

"NO!" Angrily, she stood, her fists clenched tightly. She wanted to hit him, he could tell. But lately, she'd gained much better control over her anger, so she was able to hold it in. Basically, she was holding herself back from hitting him. Instead, she spun around, and stormed off, irritation radiating off her body.

Sai watched her retreating form for a moment, and then looked back at the children. He might have followed her, even at the risk of getting punched all the way to Timbuktu, but he had a mission to complete. The Root's teaching was still embedded deeply in his head, so the mission was more important than his friendship with Sakura. Some things were a bit to hard to completely erase.

Plus, he really didn't want to visit the hospital as a patient, which an angry Sakura could arrange.

Patricia…my snowflake…

He allowed his mind to wander, leaving only his eyes to watch the children. He wondered what she was doing right now, if she even vaguely remembered him…

He regretted leaving her, of course. There was just something about her, about the relationship they had shared that had confused him. He wanted to know more about the bond they had shared. It had been so different from the relationship he'd shared with his brother, and even different from the relationship he shared with Sakura. He didn't understand, and he wanted to.

Before he'd left the Roots, he'd never really thought for himself, unless it was a spur of the moment thing for a mission. He did what he was told, and never questioned it.

Now, though, he allowed himself to think about what they had done by erasing the memories of those that they had held dear. Was it really our right, he wondered, to take away something that belonged to them?

And then, did we have a choice? That made him pause. The first one had as well, but not for quite so long. Had they had a choice? Was there some alternative they could have used? No one would have believed them if they had talked, he reasoned. Also, most of them would have promised not to talk anyway.

But shinobi were too distrustful. So when it came down to it, obliviation was the only option for the shinobi.

He hated it.

Pause. Hate? He hadn't been aware that he knew this emotion, that he knew what it felt like. That he was able to feel it. If that was the case, was love also possible?

He returned to his previous thoughts, too troubled by these to continue with them.

Sai knew that Patricia could have kept her memories. She had already learned about the shinobi, and she hadn't ever told anyone.

He grimaced, realizing that his thoughts had strayed back to her specifically, but he brushed of the irritation. He didn't really mind that much…

There was just something about her he liked. Her personality was fiery, but she wanted people to like her beneath that tough exterior. She could be dedicated, she'd shown when she tried out for Quidditch, made the team, and never missed a practice, no matter how upset she felt. When she had friends, you didn't mess with them—well, really, you didn't mess with any Gryffindor—she wouldn't stand for it. She'd do anything to protect them.

And he couldn't help but wonder, if, by some twist of fate, he were the one who needed saving, would she protect him, too? He wished he could ask her.

But most of all, he wished that she was there.

"Neji?" Tenten's voice floated to him.

"Here," he murmured, not raising his head. He wasn't sure he really wanted her to find him like this, crying, but he didn't want to be alone, either.

She appeared next to him a few seconds later, and took his hand. "Hey, beautiful," she greeted him.

Through his tears, the corner of his mouth turned up at her childish greeting. "You're the beautiful one," he pointed out, glad that she hadn't commented on his emotional display. It was a change from his normally stoic disposition, so he was sure she had noticed. But, wisely, she knew what not to say.

"Pssssh. Have you looked in the mirror?" she teased. He laughed, allowing this.

Abruptly, the mood sobered, thickening the air visibly. His eyes turned away from her calm face, returning his eyes to the grave. Grass had grown over it now, long and green, swaying in the wind. It looked very gentle and calm, very like the shinobi that now laid to rest there.

"Hizashi-sama was a good man, Neji-kun." Her voice was soft, as though she were afraid that he would break at the slightest bad word. He just nodded, his lips tight. He noticed the flowers she had in her hand, as she knelt down, flattening some of the grass so that she could rest the flowers against his headstone visibly. She stood, dusting her knees off.

"Flowers?"

She nodded. "They do it in England."

"Oh." He took a shuddering breath, and added, "That was nice of you."

She smiled. "It's important to respect the dead—even those you don't know. Besides, I know you, so it's almost as if I know Hizashi-sama." She hugged him, rubbing his back as she did so.

He pulled her close, reveling in her closeness, in her scent. "It's hard." The two words were saturated with pain that would have been invisible to any one else. Any one but Tenten.

"I know."

He shook his head in frustration. "No, you don't!" It was petty and childish, he knew, but the words were out, now, and he couldn't take them back.

She sighed, trying to hold in the sudden flash of anger she felt towards her boyfriend. "Yeah, you're right. I don't know. I can hypothesize, based on my own observations, but, yeah, I can never know." Her anger spiraled out of control, and she snapped, "I have no idea! No idea what it's like to lose a father, because, oh yeah! I NEVER HAD ONE TO LOSE!!"

He flinched. "I—"

"NO! SHUT UP! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR BUTT AND LOOK AROUND YOU!"(2) She took a deep breath. The fury was gone as soon as it had come, and she calmed down. Her face softened, and she looked up into Neji's eyes, cupping his face with her hands. "Neji, I DO know how hard it is. I also know I'll always be a little sad when I think of the parents I never had. You'll always be sad, too, when you think of your dad. But guess what. I also know that as long as I've got people who care about me, and people I care about, I'll be okay. And you will, too." She kissed his cheek, and whispered, "You don't walk an easy road, so let me help you."

Neji smiled. "You already have, silly."

She smiled, and stepped away, taking his hand again. "Come on. Let's find Lee-kun and Gai-sensei."

He smiled back and nodded. "Yeah." He paused, and turned back to the grave for the last time that day. "Happy Birthday, Otou-san."

As they walked away, hand in hand, searching for their friends, Neji looked down at Tenten. She looked up at him. "What?"

He smiled. "And you say I'm the beautiful one…" (3)

Aww, what a sappy ending, IBG-chan. Okay, so allow me to explain that last bit. I knew I was going to write some NejiTen fluff, cuz someone requested it. (please feel free to make requests!) Unfortunately, I wasn't sure where to start. Then inspiration struck! Personally, I think it's a load of crap that Neji doesn't still think about his dad. I mean, seriously, if your dad died, would you just completely move on, and never get a little sad when you thought about him? No, of course not. At least, I wouldn't. I know Neji is displayed as a prick that doesn't really care that his dad is dead when he talks about him in the beginning. He acts like he's more upset about the stupid Hyuuga clan setup than the death of his father. I don't think that's a good interpretation. Really, the main branch is just his scapegoat, something he can hate, and something he can blame his father's death on. I wanted to point out to people that Neji is only human, and that he really does care about things other than being a good shinobi, and serving the main branch…blah, blah, blah. Hopefully, you guys got that from the oneshot type thing.

(1) If you remember, it's a garnish for ramen, made of fish paste or something. It had something to do with fish…
(2) A shout out to my band director, who says this all the time!
(3) If you don't get it, he's saying that she's beautiful not only because her outward appearance is pretty, but also because she's got such a…dare I say it…beautiful soul. (Stupid Jesse McCartney…who I don't own, thankfully.)