The relations between the leaf and the cloud have always been tenuous. To have some control, the leaders of the leaf are going over the heads of the Raikage to establish a political alliance through marriage.
"There is no clan in the world greater than the Hyuga," my mother tells me. "Except for maybe the Uchiha, and they're all dead. Either way, Neji is a good match for the Kekkai Genkai alone."
Is he a good match? I don't know. We used to play together as children. His mother, not a Hyuga either, was some relative in law to my cousins and consequently we ran into each other at festivals. My favourite game was tag, and after that, I liked playing house. He hated that.
"Dinner's ready!" I would say, pretending to put something on a plate. Neji would wrinkle his nose.
"It had better be soba noodles," he would reply.
"It's NOT soba!" I would yell. "It's UDON!"
Now, his favourite game was taijutsu. I don't even know how that counted as a game. I would blindfold myself with a broad hair ribbon and pretend to be tied to a tree. He would do some patterns and pretend to fight my captors. He was stupid and the fight would drag on forever.
"I want to eat peaches!" I demanded. "It's way past snack time!"
"No, you can't, you're still stuck," Neji insisted. He pretended to lose just to spite me, and told me that I'd be trapped in the tree forever.
I stuck out my tongue at him. I left anyways.
Eventually Neji managed to coax me back. I tied the blindfold again, my fingers sticky with peach juice. After that, he made sure to fight the bandits with double vigor. One time, my cousin Mendu snuck up and pulled my hair. It scared me and I screamed.
Supposedly, in the heat of his fake battle, that's when Neji first activated his Byakugan. The damn child was very involved in the game.
Then his mother died and the war broke out and Neji stopped coming to festivals in the Land of Lightning.
Would Neji recognize me now? I hope not. I was a particularly crusty child, but now I am considered remarkably beautiful, if only through artifice. The shinobi bloodline I hail from has long been corrupted with the lazy sweetness of money. While my ancestors grit their teeth through tears and war, I exercise only enough to maintain the slender tone of my body. What was once prized medical ninjutsu became deep resurfacing facials. My hair- coddled through hours of rollers and brushing- falls clear to my waist in loose waves. With my milky skin and my dark hair, I could have passed for a real Hyuga, if it weren't for my black eyes.
The Hyuga come for negotiations. To my disappointment, Neji isn't there. Instead I am briefly ushered in so that the Hyuga can make sure I'm not disfigured.
Lord Hyuga nods his approval. "She will make a good wife."
That is all. My father waves me away and I am lead back to my quarters. As I leave, I hear a few bits and pieces of conversation.
"Hyuga-san...strength of the Byakugan...dowry...eight trigrams, sixty-four palms…alliance...heirs...main branch..."
The pact is sealed. I am to marry Neji Hyuga at the break of spring, during the festival where villagers throw beans to drive out Oni. It's not celebrated here, but supposedly the holiday marks a new chapter in the year in the same way this alliance is meant to.
Before we leave, I am oppressed with a month of shut-in studying; the customs of your homeland are wrung out to make room for the customs of the Leaf. My dowry is prepared; along with three million ryo in gold bullion, I will travel with eighty-eight Kyoto silk kimonos, cases of smokey lapsang souchong tea, strings of pearls, trinkets carved in ivory and jade.
The journey to the land of fire is three days long. The last leg of the journey is by sea. The tide is stormy, and waves break against the helm of our ship.
When I picture Neji, all I can see is the kid who fought pretend bandits for fun. My stomach churns like the waters. The world seems cloudy to me; my shoulders are tense and I feel as if suspended over a great cliff. I can't bring myself to recognize the severity of my move.
My sister, always the smarter one, beams. "Supposedly, your new betrothed is pure kekkei genkai." She giggles, and leans back. The heavens rage tonight, but still, she looks at the sky wistfully. "I wish I were to go. They say he was a prodigy."
"He was a little turd," I say. My sister giggles again and shakes her head.
The day begins with ablutions in the sacred spring within the Hyuga compound. I take the last dregs of my time alone to paint my face. Unrolling my treasured collection, I breath in my perfume of jasmine and chinese white magnolia. Later, when I would long for home, I would bury my face in the cloth.
For now, I dust my face and neck with white powder and line my eyelids with smoky shadow. I feel in my element, deftly flicking my sable brushes across my compacts and onto my skin. I am not sure if the decadence of my old habits will mesh well with the Hyuga. I'll just enjoy them for now.
I raise my arms and stand silently as Neji's next of female kin drape me in the silk painted with flowers and cranes. Hinata embraces me when she is done.
"Welcome, sister," she whispers. I nod.
My face is draped in a veil of heavy red silk, my identity erased. The kinswomen of the Hyuga clan take me by the hand and lead me to the altar, where Neji lifts my veil.
This is the first time I see him. His expression is stoic, his brow strong and his jaw defined. He does not smile or speak, even as he lifts the mingled sake cups to my lips for me to drink. There is an oppressive silence before the declarations of the shinto priest.
Neji breaks the silence to read the vow to the Shinto gods. We make offerings of evergreen sprigs.
For this ceremony, it was agreed that the Hyuga traditions would be blended with the customs of my land; a decision that was met with the staunch revulsion of the Hyuga elders. It is the first time a Hyuga marriage was arranged where the bride's people could negotiate on equal terms. The priestess takes cuttings of our long hair and ties the locks together with red ribbon. We turn and bow to the altar, to his parents, and then mine. Then the ceremony is complete.
A banquet is held outside, but in the Hyuga tradition, it is as stoic and quiet as the groom. I eat my rice in silence. Sneaking looks at Neji, I can tell that he seems used to it.
"Tell me about your childhood," I press. "After I stopped seeing you, I mean." He looks at me.
"I trained a lot," he says, slowly. The conversation ends there.
Here is the chance to talk to my family for the last time. I don't have much to say. My mother breaks the silence.
"Neji grew up well."
"So he did," I agree. I smile at Neji but he pays no attention.
When the last course is over, Lord Hyuga lifts his sake in a toast. Our procession makes an offering at the Hyuga's ancestral shrine. My name is written in the family book, and I belong no longer to the land of the Raikage. At the insistence of my parents, a ceremonial urn had been commissioned, where I cut my finger.
When it is over, a maid comes in and asks if there is anything I need. Neji asks for nothing.
"I want to eat peaches," I respond. "The sweet, juicy kind with the red skin." the maid bows and leaves.
That night, I couldn't sleep. Neji lay awake too, his hands folded over his toned chest, white eyes gazing at the rafters. The couple feet between my side of the bed and his felt far and distant. I wished he weren't so quiet.
I reached out and lightly ran my fingers along his long hair. His gaze flitted briefly to me before returning to the ceiling.
.
.
.
Commentary and Annotations:
-the Hyuga traditions are staunchly traditional Japanese. Since their clan choses to associate themselves with 'facing the sun', as well as their consistently conservative emphasis on rank and behaviour, I thought it would be a fair characterization.
-Tenten's 'Land of Lightning' traditions are based of the Chinese. Compared to Japanese traditions, the vibe is somewhat more loud and warm and brassy.
-I can't remember where cutting the finger is from. Spilling blood is definitely not allowed in Shinto shrines, so either it's Chinese or I made it up.