Neji was hunched over on his knees, panting, hair in disarray and clothing completely dishevelled. He was thoroughly worn out. And thoroughly happy.

"All...right...since we decided on the best of three...I win..." he gasped.

"What...no...way...I won that last match..." Tenten gasped back, similarly hunched over on her knees, panting, and thoroughly worn out (Neji only hoped that she was as happy as he was).

"...Okay...let's call a truce...until tomorrow?" he asked.

"Gotcha." She thrust her clenched fist in his face expectantly, and he rapped her knuckles with his.

"Well...then good night, Tenten," said Neji quietly. "I'll be going now, or else my uncle will be worried."

"Right...good night, Neji."

And then he set off down the street and back towards the Hyuuga compound. Neji frowned as he examined the position of the moon in the night sky and several of the constellations that had already risen. The dull yellow of the street lamps cast away only a little of the gloom, and his shadow loomed heavily ahead of him.

It was late. Really, really late. Possibly eleven, maybe even midnight. He should have been home by nine thirty; that was his curfew. Jounin or not, his uncle did expect all minors of the clan to be at home by a reasonable hour, unless said minors were occupied with missions or other such pressing matters. It was kind of funny, Neji realized with a smile, the little things Hiashi-sama did to show he cared. Not only curfews, but even Neji's diet was something he'd surprisingly been concerned with over the past few years. It was to Neji's horror that of all people in the world, Hyuuga Hiashi was in perfect agreement with Guy-sensei over the force-feeding of his not-really-anymore-genin-team with "the wholesome vegetables and fruits of springtime." Hiashi-sama was especially of the opinion that since carrots were very beneficial for eye health, Guy-sensei, as far as he was concerned, was free to shove them down Neji's throat whenever he thought it was necessary.

A prickle stabbed at his stomach like a thorny rose at the thought. Yes, it was nice to know that Hiashi-sama cared...even if it was annoying at times. He hoped his uncle wouldn't be too miffed at his lateness tonight. It was for a good cause, training, after all, and training with Tenten made him forget all about time; he felt as though he had forever and a day when he was with her.

So it was only with the faintest, mildest of trepidations that he quietly slipped into the Hyuuga compound and meandered his way to his room. As expected, all the lights were off. Including, hopefully, Hiashi-sama's.

And he was pleased and only slightly relieved (he wasn't that worried, really) that he reached his room without incident and closed the door.

He'd showered and changed, and was just about ready to roll out his futon when he was interrupted with a knock at the door. Ah. Maybe it was too much to hope for that Hiashi-sama wouldn't notice his absence.

"Neji, it is your uncle," said a surprisingly...nervous voice. "May I come in?"

"Hiashi-sama, there's no need to ask at all," he responded, brow scrunching up in confusion. Why did his uncle sound nervous? Hyuuga Hiashi did not do nervous. He was the calm, poised Hyuuga clan head, striking terror in ninja and civilians alike with his icy, icy glare that had stopped Kumo nin dead in their tracks (literally). If anyone could be compared to a human automaton, it was definitely the Hyuuga Hiashi who existed approximately from the time Neji was four to the time Neji was fourteen.

The shoji door slid open and Neji realized that he was totally wrong. His uncle was not nervous. He was terrified.

Little beads of sweat dripping down his cheeks, his posture strongly resembling that of a hunchback, slouching in his black kimono, little threads of silver winding their way into the black silk of his hair, the lines of old age on his face looking darker and deeper than ever in the lamplight (he was just in his forties).

Hyuuga Hiashi looked like he was walking into his grave alive and was mentally composing his will.

What the hell?

"Neji..." his uncle began, with a strained, strained smile. If Neji didn't know any better, Hiashi-sama had pinched his facial nerves.

Seriously, what the hell?

"You're...late."

He tried not to groan. This man and his idiosyncracies. Still, he had to maintain some decorum.

"Hiashi-sama, I apologize. I simply lost track of time."

"Yes, well, when I was your age, I was much the same," his uncle broke in, his smile becoming glassy, almost skeletal. "So...so I...do understand."

This was getting creepy.

"I was simply sparring with my teammate Tenten," Neji said, staring blankly at his uncle. "We find that the night air is really stimulating, you see – Hiashi-sama, are you all right?"

For Hiashi's resemblance to the living dead was getting uncannier every passing second. Neji could have sworn that the stoic clan head had muttered something like, "So that's what kids call it these days..."

But that was impossible. Hiashi-sama never used words like kid. He used young man, young lady, sometimes street urchin. Neji wasn't sure that he understood that childhood and adolescence existed outside of concepts like setting curfew timings and healthy eating.

"Y-yes, I'm quite all right," his uncle said faintly, sheer emptiness in his eyes. "Neji, I understand that at your age, teenagers get...well, they get all sorts of...of urges..."

Hmmm. Looked like he did know about adolescence after all. Neji never would have guessed.

"Yes, indeed, Hiashi-sama, Tenten is very powerful and dominating. It's always a challenge to – "

"Nevertheless, please wait until you are of age before finding a..." Here his uncle shuddered, closing his eyes briefly, and Neji thought that he had never seen a forty-year-old man look so old, "...sparring partner. What you're doing, nephew, is very risky business indeed, and I say this in your best interests. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Um...okay."

"Thank...thank you for your cooperation." His uncle gazed around the room distractedly. "Well...good night, Neji, and please follow the curfew."

"Yes, Hiashi-sama," he said, confusion tiding over to relief as Hiashi gave him a faint, yet still dead smile and turned to leave the room.

Neji didn't know why his uncle thought he needed to be an adult just to train with Tenten or what was so risky about it, but given the disturbing complexions Hiashi-sama had been alternating between, he decided that he was very correct indeed not to ask. They used protective gear sometimes when sparring, so no one got hurt. Hiashi-sama had nothing to worry about there.

Neji could have sworn that the impassive clan head was muttering something like "needing to get a drink" and "Hizashi, where are you when I need you?" But that was impossible. Hiashi-sama hated sake and still found it difficult to speak openly of Neji's father, wracked with guilt even fourteen years after his death.

Somehow Neji didn't think that he and his uncle were having the same conversation, but it was nice to know he cared...even if he was being very confusing.

He shook his head and rolled out his futon, not realizing that his sweaty, red-faced, dishevelled appearance upon entering the compound may have given Hiashi some very interesting interpretations of the phrase sparring partner. Even a genius could be stupid sometimes.

As he closed his eyes, his sated, aching body lulled him to sleep and to dreams of Tenten utterly dominating him in many, many ways.

A/N: Written for Day 5: Late Night. :) Please leave a review! :)