Gravity
Part Thirteen
Having been left in relative silence and mostly to his own devices after the departure of his nurse, Neji had spent a good half an hour being slightly annoyed with the world in general. Owing to the circumstances under which he had been admitted, he wouldn't be released from the hospital until tomorrow at least, so that they might observe him and determine whether or not he was truly well enough to be released back into society.
The thought of his personal freedom being thus infringed upon was one that grated on his nerves, but not so much as the thought of being confined. Ever since he had been a small child, Neji had loathed small spaces and being trapped in them. A hospital room, though not lacking in windows to look out of, was to Neji the equivalent of a cell. He couldn't help but feel cornered and restless, especially considering how much he had weighing on his mind.
Tomorrow would see the beginning of the preparations for Hinata's wedding, assuming they weren't already in place. He would have to reacquaint himself with the council and see what had happened in his absence, as he knew from experience that they were very fond of making decisions without his input. Training would have to begin immediately as well; those hours he had recently devoted to Hinata would now be spent in careful study of his weaknesses. It was unacceptable by Neji's personal standards to be hospitalized for two weeks after a mission, no matter how many enemies there had been.
If not for the rescue party, he and Shikamaru both would be dead, and that was not to be tolerated.
His brow furrowed faintly as he paused his restless pacing and looked out the window. The human body was a remarkable thing, he mused; strong, yet so frail at the same time. He had known that in the mission, his limits were being pressed in the relentless, endless battles, but he'd been unaware of the true extent of damage that he had done to his body. He had almost rendered himself unable to continue life as a shinobi, much less an ANBU.
Lifting his hands palm-up, he examined them. They looked like normal hands, though they were certainly calloused and rough from work and strain. It was difficult to imagine that he had almost destroyed them completely, as well as the rest of his muscles.
The severity of his injuries had been impressed upon him by Sakura, and he had felt a bit like a small child while she lectured him, though it was foolish. There was something about that woman that inevitably inspired those sorts of feelings, he imagined; Shikamaru had been quite easily dispatched and ordered around on her every whim as well. It might have had something to do with her profession, however, as medical-nin were generally well-respected, deserving people, and Haruno Sakura was certainly a competent one.
Gripping his left hand loosely in his right, he ran his thumb across his palm and frowned further. Using the jyuken had saved his life during those battles, but at the same time, it had nearly been his undoing. In the final hours of combat, forcing his already nearly depleted chakra through his body and out of his hands when he was exhausted and his attention scattered had ripped through his muscles and torn them even as he attacked. He had been doing nearly as much damage to himself as he had his opponents, and had he been forced to fight any longer, he likely would have collapsed and never been able to rise again.
Clenching his hands into fists, he closed his eyes and tried in vain to ignore the headache pulsing behind his right eye. He was falling into old habits again, ones that he had banished years ago and vowed never to pick up again. It was wise to examine past mistakes and learn from them, but he tended to do so to an unhealthy level. In the aftermath of a difficult mission, he tended to end up hating himself if he dwelt too long on the things he did wrong.
He would learn from this. Today, at least, he wouldn't tear himself apart in his mind. He didn't have the energy nor the focus to do that.
Turning away from the window, he began walking again, this time toward his bed. A large package, previously unnoticed, caught his eye, and he lifted it, arching one eyebrow when he found it to be blank. Obviously this had not been sent through the normal post. Mildly intrigued, and glad for an escape from his own thoughts, Neji gently lowered himself to his bed and opened it.
It was, quite possibly, the largest care package he had ever seen. A short, quickly-written note identified it as from his cousin with the hopes that he be well soon, and he smiled faintly as read it, then set it aside. Hinata was very thoughtful. It was one of the traits of her personality, so unlike his own, that had drawn him to her.
He began to unpack it carefully, and found that as he drew each new article from the box, his fondness and amusement grew. She had, perhaps, packed him enough to be able to live in the hospital semi-comfortably for a week. There was clothing, toilet essentials, carefully wrapped snacks that she had no doubt made herself, and all manner of things. His bed soon became overwhelmed with small, thoughtful gifts to the point where it would be impossible to lie down, but he found that he didn't mind.
As he removed the last two items from the box, he was brought up short by one of them, and he stared at it for a long moment. It was a hairbrush, and likely Hinata's own. He didn't know why, but the thought of her taking the time to consider his hair of all things and packing away her own brush made his chest warm even as his eyes softened.
She really was something.
Reaching for his hair, he flipped it over one shoulder and undid the hair tie, pausing a moment to sniff it, before frowning faintly. Naturally he had been bathed while unconscious, and though the thought made him faintly uneasy, he appreciated the gesture. However, he was silently grieved by the hospital's choice in shampoo. It wasn't nearly as easy on his hair as his own.
Dismissing the thought, he set the brush aside and carefully began to unbraid his hair, wondering who had taken the trouble to do it up for him. He didn't particularly relish the thought of a stranger touching his hair, but again, it was better than waking to a head full of knots. They had done a tolerable job, though now he needed a shower, as his hair was slightly wavy and kinked from being bound while still wet.
He had only just begun to run the brush through his hair, an act that he enjoyed as it was relaxing, when he sensed a familiar glow of chakra heading for his room. His hands never stilled in their motions, though he did glance toward the door when it opened.
Hanabi acknowledged him with a nod and he did the same as she entered and closed the door behind her. Her mouth was turned upward into a very feminine smirk as she observed him, and for a few moments, both were silent. It was Hanabi who first spoke.
"I'm glad you're better, Neji-niisan." When he merely inclined his head and murmured a thanks, she added, "You always know a person is fine when they begin to tend their vanities once again."
His expression didn't change as he ran one hand through his hair, testing it, and then applied the brush once more. "Mm."
"I see you're as talkative as ever. Well, to the rest of us, anyhow, but I suppose that's to be expected."
One of Neji's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Oh?"
Crossing her legs, Hanabi rested her hands casually on her knees and angled him a look. "I'm not oneesan, after all." When he remained silent, she added with faint impatience, "You do seem to have long, rambling conversations with her."
Closing his eyes, Neji asked, "What, precisely, is your object, Hanabi-sama?"
She laughed. "You don't waste time, do you?"
"I avoid it if at all possible," he murmured, beginning to be lulled into contentment by the soothing motions of the hairbrush. It had been too long since he'd last been able to tend his hair.
"As you seem to favor the direct approach, I suppose I may as well just have it out. I'm here to tell you to marry my sister."
His hands stilled then, and he opened his eyes, gaze narrowing intently on Hanabi's face. Her expression was level, and he could not detect any malice or teasing in her tone or look. In fact, she seemed to be observing him as well, and she arched one eyebrow at his silence.
"Surely you have more to say than that," she said at last, leaning back and crossing her arms under her breasts.
Resuming his actions, he said simply, "That is impossible."
"Why?"
The question brought him up short, and he found that he had no answer.
"It's as I thought. It's amazing how genius often manages to overlook the blindingly obvious, and the simple. I often wonder if it's done to give those of us who are, shall I say, average, a bit of a chance to shine now and again."
Feeling his temper begin to rise, he checked it quickly and allowed a long silence to follow her words before he replied. "It would be ridiculous for me to marry Hinata-sama; I am to choose her husband. It would be highly unseemly for me to propose marriage to her myself."
Hanabi's eyes narrowed and she leaned forward slightly. "I'm not certain I heard you properly. I believe you just offered me a half-assed excuse so that you can be a coward and hide from your feelings. Correct me if I'm wrong, please," she added when he looked up sharply.
His tone was level, though it cost him. "I believe we misunderstand one another."
Hanabi's lips thinned briefly. "No, I think I understand you perfectly. I stand by what I said; it's obvious that you love her, so why sit there and pretend that you don't? Are you afraid of what people will think? I can't bring myself to think you that spineless, but considering what I've just heard, I'm tempted to believe even that."
Neji set aside the brush and stiffened, eyes narrowing a fraction. "My personal life is none of your concern, Hanabi-sama."
"It is when it directly influences my sister's happiness."
Temper laced his words as he replied, "Hinata-sama will be happy."
Standing, Hanabi leaned forward until she was level with Neji's face. Neither flinched. "She will never be happy unless she's with the man she loves; you know that. You can torture yourself all you like. As you said, it's really none of my concern. However, when you jeopardize my sister's happiness, it becomes my business."
"It is impossible for her to marry the man she loves."
Straightening, Hanabi made a small, frustrated noise. "Why is that?"
Lifting the brush again, he glanced away from her, apparently disinterested. "She must marry within the family. You are well aware of that."
Disgust was heavy in her tone when she replied. "If you can't see that she loves you, then you're as blind as you are deaf and dumb."
Finally giving way to the irritation, Neji snapped, "Hanabi-sama, as I have told you, this is none of your concern."
Shaking her head, she spun on her heel and marched swiftly to the door. She rested one hand on the frame only briefly as she looked over her shoulder, radiating disappointment. "If this is how you insist on being, then you don't deserve her."
With that Hanabi left the room, slamming the door shut sharply behind her. Neji sighed and tilted his face toward the ceiling, eyes slowly drifting shut as the sound reverberated. Perhaps Hanabi was right.
Whether or not he loved her, it was obvious that he didn't deserve her.
