Persepolis130
Notes: Gyah! Don't hit me! There's more nejihina coming up later, I swear! We'll also see Tenten later, so her fans need not panic either. And yes, reviewing does make me write faster. Though unfortunately, it does nothing for the editing process... Also, I'm visiting family over spring break next week, so I probably won't be posting anything new for at least a week and a half- sorry!
Clothing note: a kimono will fit a variety of different shapes and sizes, due to the fact that it can be adjusted under the obi (belt). Unless its size is grossly misestimated, it would be impossible for one not to fit.
CHAPTER 12
Neji was in no way unkind to his cousin that night.
This being said, he wasn't particularly compassionate either.
He could best describe it as perfunctory. The absolute basics, with the smallest amount of enjoyment as possible. Why she chose to do it in the first place, spoiling herself at the hands of her own cousin, someone for whom she held no affection, was completely beyond him. But at least this way he'd satisfy her curiosity, and she'd decide she wanted no part of it from now on.
Even his first time, as appallingly inept as he'd been, he'd given some amount of pleasure. Admittedly, it was mostly by accident, but the effort hadn't been a total failure. With Hinata though, he purposefully avoided anything that would give her even the slightest gratification. No kisses, no caresses, no foreplay, just lying her down on her back, spreading some salve, and pushing in.
Of course he healed her as he'd done with Tenten, but he gave her no reassurances, no kind words of any sort. In fact, he said nothing at all. And when he came, as silently as he'd ever managed, he was sure to close his eyes and turn his head so she couldn't see.
Braced over her the way he was, trying his best to avoid any extraneous contact, he couldn't help collapsing on top of her after; it would have been nearly impossible not to. Shifting his weight off Hinata and gently lowering her knees, he wanted to be still for awhile, give her some semblance of comfort from the affair. Maybe run his fingers through her soft, pretty hair.
However, he soon found this to be unworkable. After a few minutes of lying against her warm, smooth skin, his body betrayed him, instinctively craved more, and he was forced to pull away.
"You should go now," he murmured, turning to face the wall, "Someone might catch you."
He felt rather than saw her get up from his bed, heard her pick her clothes off the floor and re-dress, his door sliding quietly shut afterwards.
Not wanting to think about what he'd done, what a horrible person he'd become, Neji closed his eyes.
When he awoke, the early morning light spreading a soft glow through his room, Neji reassured himself that what he'd done, no matter how unfair to her it was, had been for the best. In a few years, when it was time for her to think about marrying, she'll have forgotten that she didn't really like sex, or be pleasantly surprised on her wedding night. But that was that. It was over and no longer his problem.
That is, until he saw the blood.
It had been fairly dark last night, so he hadn't noticed, especially when he was trying his best not to look at her. He'd had to pull back after the first try to find better leverage, and even after that she'd felt incredibly tight around him, but she hadn't protested. And besides, the healing jutsu should have taken care of it.
But there it was, smeared across his skin like frenzied calligraphy. He rubbed his palms on his thighs and pulled himself out of bed to find that his bottom sheet had been ruined, a small, dried pool of crimson beneath where Hinata had been lying when he took her.
He was horrified.
Not thinking about what he was doing, he grabbed his clothes, throwing them on as he dashed from his room. Hurrying through the maze of corridors that made up the Hyuuga complex, he prayed Hinata hadn't left for training already. The only thing he could think was that this was all wrong and he HAD to see her.
But turning a corner at the end of a long hall at a speed better suited for intense combat, Neji's journey was cut suddenly short as he slammed into something solid, sending him sprawling on the floor. He looked up in shock to see his uncle staring down at him, a highly offended look on his face.
Oh shit.
"What are you doing?" Hiashi demanded.
Neji swallowed. What WAS he doing, anyway? Sprinting dangerously through the house in desperate search of his cousin because he'd seen a little blood? How ridiculous! She was a ninjashe'd doubtless been injured dozens of times much worse than this!
No logical explanation to be found, Neji climbed slowly up off the floor, hanging his head in shame. Small children ran blindly through their homes; men did not.
"Come see me tonight," Hiashi said.
Neji raised his head, hoping he didn't look as uneasy as he felt.
"And please wear it. It was your father's." The man didn't seem angry. He should have.
Neji didn't like it.
Lowering his eyes, Neji bowed respectfully, turning back to the Bunke side of the estate. Hinata would have to deal with things herself; he had his own problems.
When he reached his room, he sat down on his bed and gently unwrapped the box Hinata had brought him, sliding the lavish silk bow off the end to keep it intact. Drawing back the carefully folded tissue paper inside revealed to Neji an extraordinary formal kimono of the most brilliant cobalt blue. The exquisite silk slid delicately against his calloused fingers as he pulled it out of the box, gently so as not to catch it on his rough skin. The fabric shone like fine satin in the light, turning a darker shade, almost black, in shadow. The Hyuuga family symbol adorned the back, embroidered in intricate black silk stitches.
Neji hated it.
Its color, while beautiful, was too feminine, its sheen too eye-catching, its cut too sinuously flowing. It was too muchtoo bright, to flashy, too extravagant. No self-respecting man would be caught dead in such a garment.
Tossing the kimono back in its box, Neji headed to the toilet to relieve himself and wash away the rest of his cousin's blood before training. Stalking out of the house some minutes later, he swore to himself that he would never wear that kimono, no matter who gave it to him, who asked him to, whether his father had worn it or not.
XXXXX
The kimono looked even worse on than it had in the box.
In the fading light of evening, Neji scowled down at his lantern-lit image in the small reflecting pond. All he needed to be a suitable woman now was a bit of makeup and some hairpins. Even the orange and white koi as they ate the food he threw seemed to be laughing at him.
But what excuse could he give his uncle for not wearing it? That it didn't fit? That it looked bad on him? It was impossible. Hiashi would certainly be angry if he showed up in something else, and that was the last thing Neji wanted.
"It suits you," he heard, and Neji looked up to see Hiashi standing at his side, hands folded calmly before him. He was smiling.
"It was a very kind gift," Neji replied, scowling at the fish as he threw in the rest of the feed. It was too much, but what did he care if they died?
"You bear your burden well, as always," Hiashi said. Though it was a warm evening, Neji shivered as he felt the man's fingers slide gently across his neck.
"Why do poorly when one has another option?" he asked, stiffening beneath his uncle's touch.
"Why, indeed?" Neji gasped as he was suddenly pulled forward into Hiashi's arms, trembling as his instincts told him to fight but his rational mind told him to be still. If his uncle wanted him, fighting it like before would only make things worse
After several minutes though, it became clear that Hiashi's intent, at least for the moment, was different than the last time; the man seemed content just holding him close, running his fingers softly across the back of Neji's neck, breath puffing gently against his cheek.
Forcing himself to breathe evenly, Neji turned his eyes away. It was then that he remembered where they were: in an open courtyard where any member of his family casually passing by could see them. Though much worse things might happen in private, for the sake of Neji's honor, this simply wouldn't do.
Swallowing, Neji said in what he hoped was a convincingly steady voice, "Unless there's something else, I need to speak with your daughter now." It wasn't true; he didn't think he could face his cousin right now. He thought the mention of Hinata might bring Hiashi back to his senses, though. Doubtless, the man already knew what had happened last night.
But as Hiashi pulled away, Neji was shocked to see a sorrowful expression on his uncle's face, his shining white eyes filled with tears. Neji gaped in utter shock at the man as he ran soft fingers over his cheek.
"You were so beautiful, my caged bird," he said, voice low. "So beautiful."
Neji could only stare up at his uncle in dazed, uncomprehending silence. He was beautiful? And since when had his uncle ever referred to him using that expression, speaking so openly of his curse?
"It had been too long since we touched. You understand, don't you, my divine nightingale? I only wanted things to be like they were," Hiashi said, "if only for one night."
He leaned in to press his lips against Neji's, but Neji turned his head, understanding suddenly dawning on him. And he wished with every fiber of his being that it hadn't. He flushed in shame as he looked down at his kimono, now recognizing its design as the feathers of a brightly-plumed bird.
"Hiashi-sama," Neji murmured, "That could never happen. My father is dead."
His uncle's lips formed a bittersweet smile, and as he turned away, Neji saw him raise a hand to his own cheek. His voice was rough as he spoke, face turned away. "You have pleased me, Neji. I give you your leave."
Neji let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding as he bowed, walking away with quick, measured steps. He didn't stop until he was safely in his room, at which point he all but tore the kimono from his body, throwing it on the ground as he was sure his father must once have done. Glaring down in disgust at the offensive garment, Neji felt his chest tighten, as though the bars of his cage were crushing against him, pressing the air from his lungs.
He was about to scream, force his anger and frustration into one solid, cathartic roar, when he heard a gasp. Suddenly realizing that he was naked save his bandages and utterly unaware of his surroundings, Neji fell immediately into a defensive position.
But it was only Hinata sitting on his bed, arms tight around her waist, eyes squeezed shut. Even in the dim light, he could tell she was trying her hardest not to cry.
Ashamed on so many different levels, Neji grabbed the kimono off the floor and carried it to his cousin, wrapping it around her shoulders as he sat and pulled her into his arms. He heard her sob as he rubbed her back, resting his cheek against her soft hair.
"Hinata-sama," he said softly, "It's not worth your tears."
"But Neji-niisan," she wept, forehead against his chest, "It's all my fault!"