[Previous chapters were rewritten! Check them out when you can, story's been modified.]
Rated M for language and later content
GLORY
solum
Unknown Location, Rain Country
May 14, 1311
"I would accuse you of being distracted, but I doubt you'd be so sloppy."
Itachi peers through sweat-slicked bangs, eyes lidded and dangerously blank. A lesser man would've been running for the hills at the sight of him standing to full height, uncurling like a hawk raising its hackles, broadening its wings. It makes him look all the more fallen.
Nonetheless, his opposer's face is wiped clean of reaction, bored of the display. Instead he looks eerily empty, far more so than the former king.
"I have been thinking," Itachi proclaims quietly, resting his hand against the hilt of his unsheathed blade in false ease.
"And being obvious about it," is the curt, drab reply.
Itachi frowns then, mouth tight and eyes narrowed in a manner he often does when focusing: razor sharp, keen, cunning. The handle of his sword rolls from wrist to palm, blade pitched into the ground for support. Thoughtfully, he meets the other man's eye.
"You are being ridiculous."
"Am I?"
The lack of intonation is irritating. It makes his frown drop at each corner.
"Careful, Sasori," he warns, voice so low to the ground that had the poison specialist been a hairsbreadth further away, he wouldn't have heard. "Showing your cards so early puts a target on your back."
The man with hair the color of dried blood scoffs, droopy doe eyes lowering to half-mast. He looks almost asleep, faux resignation written on his face. At the elevated volume in the training arena, he flicks his gaze at a screaming Hidan and suffering Kakuzu before returning to Itachi.
In a far more hushed tone, he says, "Deidara returns tonight from his assignment."
"He was able to get through Grass?" Itachi's right brow hikes slightly. The little state has decent enough ties with Rain, known for its copious amounts of bamboo, wild mushrooms, and a fancy building: the highly secured Blood Prison for the most dastardly. It's difficult to get in, even harder to get out.
"If by 'getting through' you mean 'assassinate the warden,'" Sasori continues casually, "then yes."
Itachi almost has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Typical. This puts a minor dent in their plans.
Almost as if reading his thoughts, Sasori's chin tilts sideways in the negative, unruly bangs swaying into his unnaturally perceptive eyes. "He only took down the warden and released a third of the criminals," he states, careful not to move his lips an excessive amount.
The two of them can feel Kakuzu's stare, the weight of it thick and heavy. Suspicion begins to turn his eyes more gold than green so Sasori makes a show of gesturing to Itachi's sword. After a moment, the Uchiha wrenches the blade out, testing it against his hands.
"They will report in Rain within two days with him."
Itachi nods just once, quick and sharp, then puts the flat of his blade against the opposite forearm. He inspects the metal, the brittle condition of his practice sword. One strike at the center will make it break, he notes.
"When he returns," he begins quietly, aware of Kakuzu and Hidan's approach, "we need to reconvene. The Fire crowns have picked up on the mercenary migrations."
Sasori raises a brow at that, somewhat surprised. Their plan had been near foolproof; outlaws often circle Fire's borders, unwilling to cross into their territories unless necessary. They couldn't have picked up on the influx, it was perfectly under radar.
"Who noticed?"
Itachi's lips purse. "I do not know." He pauses, contemplating. "But my brother has officially organized an alliance between the Fire kingdoms. And Wind's."
Sasori scoffs, bitter, almost venomous. He's not very fond of the annoying twit on Suna's throne nor Itachi's scrub of a brother. "Of course. So the next step?"
"Wait for Deidara."
Ah, but they have an unaccounted one. "What about Kisame?" the poison specialist asks after a moment.
"He's still bedridden from his last assignment. Convene in the usual room, three ticks from dinner. Take the long route."
Sasori hums. Itachi shakes his bangs out, sweat whipping from the tips just as Hidan finally arrives in their space. The large, lumbering man makes this comment and that, prodding Itachi into a spar that he accepts with a graceful nod. Heading off towards a free area of the arena, Sasori watches on, Kakuzu's probing eyes beside him.
"Whatever you are planning," comes the deep, rumbling timbre of the bounty hunter, thick, almost from beyond the grave, "it would be wiser to keep from talking about it so plainly."
With a twitch of the nose, the green-eyed ghoul indicates in a direction and Sasori follows the move, glancing at the upper levels of the arena where Lord Pein and his three closest confidants stand at the top behind a railing, closely discussing something. The Angel, the Masked Man, and the Snake.
His tired stare wanders away from them, back to the convict from Waterfall.
"Noted."
Southern Hyuuga Kingdom, Fire Country
May 14, 1311
"Were you out of your mind?!"
Ah, the birds really were at it again.
"Y'know, I thought I was stupid—"
"You are."
"—but this is on a whole new level!"
Shikamaru stares boredly after Naruto's headless-chicken-pacing. The blonde looks very close to tearing his own hair out and somewhere in his soulless body, Shikamaru kind of hopes it'll happen. He has a soft spot for shows after all.
"You got hurt! Hurt! D'you know how bad it could've been if- if Asuma wasn't there?!"
The volume's getting kind of irritating. And the yelling's making him tense up which is causing his shoulder to ache like a fat bitch. "Lord Naruto—"
"You'd be food. You'd literally be a skewer, Shikamaru, a skewer. Y'know what that looks like?" He makes a dramatic show of stabbing himself with a rolled up piece of paper and Shikamaru begins to glare testily at the twittering idiot. "Like that! We'd have to bury you in a fucking square box because of all the swords—!"
"While I appreciate you honoring my body so gracefully," the Hyuuga advisor blanches, "it was a hit to the shoulder. I'm fine."
"A hit?! Dear god, he's just calling it a hit." Naruto rubs his forehead frustratedly. "If you weren't aware dude, there was a hole in your shoulder. A motherfucking hole. And that was one—" he puts up a single finger with vigor "—one injury. Out of, like, a billion."
"Five."
"A billion and five!"
"Naruto!" Shikamaru's bark surprises Naruto enough into snapping his jaw shut with a click, eyes wide. He's never heard the lazy guy shout. It takes too much energy. "Sit the hell down." He obeys instantly.
Oh, Shikaku would probably choke his son out for talking to a king like that but then he'd meet Naruto and understand.
"He showed up, I didn't get stabbed, taken, or killed, we're past that. Are we calm now?" His cross expression shuts Naruto's opening mouth up and the blonde sullenly nods. "Okay. Good." Rubbing his temples, the poor advisor sighs heavily. "Aside from that, can you get the others? I have something to tell them."
Naruto perks up at this. "Something to tell them? What is it?"
Shikamaru crosses his arms thoughtfully. "I don't think it's a total loss. I noticed something during that night and have a theory."
"You want to launch a third attack?" Sakura repeats incredulously.
"No," Neji is quick to refute. "Absolutely not."
Shikamaru sighs. "My Lord—"
"A billion," Naruto mutters to Kakashi, who nods sagely, "like a billion injuries."
Sasuke's eyebrow twitches at the noise, tick mark forming at his jaw that oddly enough leaves Gaara perfectly serene beside him. Either he's fabulously unbothered or has zero survival instinct.
Considering they all have met Naruto as the blueprint for the latter, he believes Gaara is the former.
"Just in case you forgot, you were downed on the field," Neji says, his voice chilly, no-nonsense. Having grown up with the guy, his advisor is sorely unaffected. Sakura makes a noise of agreement and the pair of them look like stern parents with their arms crossed.
"Are you kidding—look at this." And there he is, waggling his injured arm in a way that makes Sakura glare especially. He ignores her, moving the stabbed joint back and forth to make a point, unfilled trench coat sleeve shimmying beside him. "See? Perfectly articulate."
"Shikamaru, you had better stop before I repuncture that hole for you," she threatens. It's only because of her handiwork that his arm hadn't been completely lost to the earth and seeing as he's been on the receiving end of one of her punishing punches, he stops moving. But his exasperated expression is still there.
"Can you at least listen to me?" he asks with a grunt. "It's not like I'm the one asking to field this. It's an idea."
"We're down twenty soldiers," his king says sharply, "out of the fifty that we had ready for discharge. We're sorely lacking in manpower."
"We won't need as many. I promise you this."
Although hesitant, Neji knows Shikamaru's promises have the weight of anvils. Not liking it one bit but caring deeply for his closest friend, he nods his reluctant assent. Relieved, the advisor looks pointedly in Naruto's direction, who stops jamming elbows into Kakashi's gut after realizing he's being looked at.
"Did you bring what I asked you to?"
"Huh?" Kakashi hands him a large, tubed parchment. "Oh! Sure did!"
The crowns collectively roll their eyes.
Shikamaru, with Neji's help, undoes their study map and spreads it thin across his resting cot. With a proffered pen, he marks Jiraiya's successful attack and his failed one on the southmost shores. Scanning the drawn earth, recognition clicks in place.
"This. What country settled here recently?" he asks, circling a large piece of unnamed land attached to Hyuuga, jutting eastward into the ocean. This map is old, unmissed by the archives.
"It's now called Forest," Neji replies, frowning. "It doesn't have many people on it except for on the far east end. Immigrants from Water Country."
"What else do we know about it?"
"It's like Konoha," Sasuke adds off to the side. His arms are crossed, brows knitted. He vaguely remembers the little colony on one of his trips to Namikaze, visible from the mountains, small and barely an actual country. The settlements function independently of each other. "Their capitol is uninhabited."
"Why?"
"Because it disappears into the water at high tide."
Bingo. Shikamaru portions out Forests' capitol with thick, strong red strokes of his pen, then circles the tip where settlements developed. "When I was out there, I noticed a patch of land with trees in the middle of the ocean. I didn't recall any islands so close to us but on the way back, I remembered Forest."
He thinks of an expedition Neji had led on a small trade trip to Nagi. The timing had been important because Forest happens to be a vanishing island with its lowest points disappearing in high tide. The phenomenon is awfully advantageous, attached to Fire Country twice a day, very close to Mist.
"I thought that'd be a pretty convenient place," he starts, "to station another group of outlaws."
Understanding dawns on the others. Kakashi looks thoughtful, fingers rubbing his chin. "So the group spotted in the Fishing Village?"
"Either another group or a diversion. But the main camp isn't in Tea. It's in Forest."
"What do you want to do with that information?" Sasuke finally asks.
Of the crowns, he's been the most on edge. Itachi has been spotted only once, roaming the outskirts of Lightning Country while their focus was on the east—the opposite end of their eyes. Not knowing his exact locations make him anxious, scared; his sibling's always been known for being good at blending with the shadows. This feels like too slim of a chance.
"Even if we can confirm their main camp is there, twenty soldiers are down and you can't bring all of the thirty left. That would leave Hyuuga unprotected."
"And you're still not going out there, Shikamaru," Neji insists, furthered by Naruto's squawk of agreement.
"I'm not in any shape to fight, no," Shikamaru agrees, "but you won't need all thirty of the remaining soldiers, even if you're outnumbered. You'll only need half, maybe, and," he glances around, "two of you."
What?
"Pein's clearly not following the rules," he says with a tired sigh, shoulder aching. "Neither should we. Two of you are enough to destabilize a main camp, fifteen soldiers as back up."
"This isn't exactly inconspicuous," Gaara points out, tone dry. Shikamaru snorts.
"It's not meant to be."
Gaara hums. He concedes to the proposition with a nod and Sakura's eyes are reluctantly agreeing. Kakashi pats Naruto's shoulder and speaks for both of their assent and even Neji allows it, albeit with plenty hesitance.
The tension circling around Sasuke's shoulders ease into a fine line. He asks, "So what's the new plan then?"
"After this, we have no choice but to declare war," Shikamaru says grimly. The room settles into a tense silence at his proclamation. "So I suggest we get that written document moving on a bird we won't miss."
Neji nods gravely.
"Our fastest needs to head to Senju to inform Lady Tsunade and Master Jiraiya needs to be contacted. And Uchiha...?"
"I will go back."
Sasuke's mouth presses tightly, eyes whirling to meet Kakashi's. The Commander's expression is serene, almost smiling.
He can't leave. He's Sasuke's closest thing to an elder brother at this point.
"N—"
"I believe it'll be for the good of the cause," Kakashi interrupts respectfully. His gaze is unreadable, hidden. "Let me take care of our kingdom, Sasuke. I'll be but a messenger away."
He doesn't like it. "Karin—"
Sakura tenses at the namedrop; Kakashi sees it in his periphery but doesn't look in that direction. "—isn't trained to rule. She never attended any of the lessons or the meetings and while the esteemed council are great and all, I don't feel particularly comfortable with the thought of leaving village welfare to a bunch of old vultures ready to kick the can after a hard coughing fit."
Naruto crams his fist into his mouth at the comparison, scared to laugh too loudly. The Uchiha Council's ancient.
Sasuke's frown eases that little bit at the joke. His advisor makes a point. There's no one back home looking after the people.
"Besides, you won't have to miss me for too long," Kakashi says, flapping his hand, "I'll be on the field too, when the time calls for it."
That's... that's as good as it will get.
Reluctant, Sasuke finally nods. Expression still tight, he regards Shikamaru again; "Then who's going to attack the camp?" In his mind, it would've been him and Kakashi.
"Send me."
Heads turn to Sakura, who's tightly gripping the sides of Shikamaru's cot, avoiding Sasuke's stare. Her jaw is tense, eyes hard.
Shikamaru's gaze is searching. Whatever they find must satisfy him because he nods his assent, then tilts his chin in Sasuke's direction.
"We'll send Lord Sasuke and Lady Sakura," he says, ignoring the look on Neji's face. He's focused on Sakura's, the expressions vacillating between irritation and resignation. Then he glances at Sasuke's, sees the exact same thing. Neither argue.
"That was ballsy."
Shikamaru leans back from nursing his cigarette, careful not to knock the tin off the balcony railing. You only make that mistake once in your life. He's about to bow but a hand stops him, so he smiles slightly and goes back to hunching.
"I did what I thought was best," he says, sliding the tin over. Lady Sakura hums at the gesture, picks up one blunt with slim fingertips and examines the little white roll. "Interested?"
"Even after all these years, I'm still not fond of tobacco," she says dryly, setting the roll down. Instead she pulls a small tin from her side, slides the cover off and the air is instantly filled with the scent of chamomile and lavender. "Light me?"
Flipping the lid of his cigarette tin over, he draws one of the matches out and ignites the head, lighting Sakura's blunt. She huffs from it softly.
"I didn't think you'd actually resort to smoking," he says after a moment, blowing a plume up into the air. The distant sky is swirling on the left, clear on the right and he knows it's because of that vanishing island. Hurricanes lose traction over land. "Years ago you used to put mine out."
"I still will," she says matter-of-factly. "Tobacco's hell for the lungs."
"And your herbs aren't?"
"I didn't say they aren't." She winks. "I'm just a little smarter about the way I die."
"Hm. Fair."
They stand there at the balcony, watching the halved sky spin in opposite circles. A breeze comes between them, swirling Shikamaru's smoke, playing with the emptied sleeve of his trench. It ruffles Sakura's tied hair, the ribbon around the collar of her blouse, full sleeves, the sashes on her trousers. Sweet herbs greet his nose and he'll deny the way the smell does good to him, clearing the odor of tar.
Huffing, he starts with, "I was kind of surprised that you volunteered, if I can be honest."
Sakura laughs, the sound like dry merlot wine. "I know a thing or two about a sword," she says. "And my mother was my teacher, if you recall."
He snorts half-heartedly. "Not saying you're not capable. If you forgot, I'm kind of your friend." Years ago, whether or not he knew what went on between his king and this queen, they'd been friends too—him and Sakura. He's played board games, mind games, silly, stupid, elementary games with her and has sat in on enough sparring sessions.
"I'm sure I could never forget," she says in reply, flicking her cigarette and raising it in something like a toast. He indulges it, taps the end of his blunt against hers.
"I was going to send Lord Neji, actually," he says.
"But you sent Sasuke with me instead?"
It's said so flatly that Shikamaru glances to double check her expression. Blank. "Lord Neji's going to need to speed up the training for the rest of the soldiers. I thought I could send him out while you train them, but then you volunteered."
Sakura huffs, doesn't reply, so he continues after a deep inhale, exhale.
"Lord Sasuke's going to be useful out there. The settlements in Forest are poorly lit. I doubt they keep many fires going with all the sea activity, so he will be useful."
The Uchiha are known to have Hell's Eyes, like chalices of wine in the dark. Unnaturally skilled in seeing through lies, deceit, and darkness, they're a perfect counterpart to the Hyuuga's moonshines, capable of detecting weakness, strength, distance. Both are hawkish, piercing.
And Sasuke is especially skilled in battle taking place in complete nightfall. Sakura nods her approval at the recruitment.
"You could have just as easily overturned me for Neji," she says anyways, "His eyes would be useful there."
"But no one topples full armies like a Senju." The pair exchange smiles and Sakura jabs her elbow lightly into Shikamaru's ribs, laughing. "With only fifteen soldiers on our side, I'm kind of hoping you can wipe out the brunt of the first few waves."
"I'm honored."
"You should be." He snorts, smoke leaving his nose and mouth. Shedding the ash, he stares down at the shortened blunt, calculating one last good puff before it's done. "How are the others taking it though?"
"Sasuke made himself scarce. Haven't seen a single bit of him but I'd imagine there's pouting here and there." Shikamaru chuckles. "Gaara's taking it well and Kakashi was telling me a little bit of Forest."
"He knows stuff about it?"
"Said it used to be a safeplace during the last war." She punches the spent blunt into the railing and deposits it in the glass dish. "Maybe that's why the rogues made camp over there. Leftover junk."
"Hm. And Lord Naruto? Lord Neji?"
Sakura rolls her eyes. "Naruto followed Neji into the soldiers' quarters. The ones that are supposed to come with us. He's thinking of sending one of the veterans along."
Shikamaru's eyebrows pitch higher. "Really?"
"Sir Asuma did kind of save your ass," she points out, making an amused noise when Shikamaru groans at the reminder, "so a veteran as a backup doesn't sound like a bad idea."
"Fair."
Her teasing little, "Isn't it?" is stifled by a jab from his end, elbow cramming into her shoulder. "Where's Sir Asuma anyways? I wanted to ask about Madame Kurenai and Mirai."
"Probably in the north wing. You can actually ask Kurenai about Mirai soon, she's supposed to be here today with a few other members of North Hyuuga."
"Fabulous." Shutting her tin, she slides it into a nameless pouch at her hip and leans against the railing, watching as the sun shines on half the sea. "I'm thinking of asking Kakashi to delay his return trip."
"Oh?" Tossing his finished cigarette into the dish between them, he slouches forward, eyes on the beaches. "What brought that up?"
"I want him to be the veteran we bring to Forest," she says honestly. "He's always been sharp, cunning, but his eye is Uchiha. It'll balance not bringing Neji to the field."
"And that wouldn't be overkill?"
Sakura huffs. "Them throwing forty ambush soldiers against your twenty wasn't overkill? And that was forty to spare. Who knows how many they have on that island."
Shikamaru concedes after that point. "Do you think he'll be alright with it? By the time he reaches Uchiha after this, he'll only have a week to alert the masses."
"He should. I think I might be able to get a head start on Uchiha. You remember that mercenary duo?"
"The Senju-born one?"
"Yeah. I still have contact with them. I might be able to get one or the other, maybe both, to look after the throne. Keep the council in line for an extra two weeks."
Shikamaru rolls his eyes. "How many secret contacts do you have?"
She smiles, all mischief and nothing good. "Wouldn't you like to know."
"No thanks. Secrets are a pain."
Sakura laughs at that, nudging her arm against his. "Fair," she taunts, mocking him. "Are we in agreement over Kakashi?"
"It's a good idea."
"Good. I've dealt with him before so the teamwork shouldn't be a problem. It's Sasuke I'm a little worried about."
"What gave that away?" Shikamaru asks sarcastically, "the fact that he's been in his own little bubble this entire time or the 'crazy'?"
Lord Uchiha, while pledging allegiance to the capitol and abiding by the alliance, hasn't been completely there. Always spacing off, poring over the travel routes, voracious for information on his brother. If they weren't so often convening together, Shikamaru's certain the king would have stolen a horse, gone off on his own. He's been impatient, more so than usual.
Sakura's smile is amused, a note sad. "Our teamwork's nonexistent," she says. "I don't even think he knows I can fight."
"You were married for actual years and a spar never happened?"
"He was always gone," she says, her voice distant. Shikamaru breeches the topic carefully, watching her now. "Off on military duties or whatever while I was home. I spent it sparring Kakashi instead."
The admission curtails his thoughts. He doesn't know much, kind of wants to, but will not pry. He won't.
The sun is disappearing slowly and the clouds in the sky are cosmic.
"Was it always work?" he asks after a moment.
"No," she says fondly, faraway. Her hair twirls with the breeze like ballerina's slippers, dancing. "In the beginning, there was hope."
"You're awfully grumpy."
Sasuke only looks away from polishing his sword for a single, heated second, flashing deadly eyes at Kakashi's head before returning. The motions of his whetstone are firm and even.
"Or at least more so than usual."
"I'm not in the mood, Kakashi."
"No, you never are."
Picking up one of the other three whetstones on the ground next to Sasuke's knee, Kakashi wields his favored shortsword, inspects it, then begins.
For a long moment, neither talk. The sunset meadow behind Hyuuga castle is silent, covered in flowering apple trees and tall, lush grasses. They work their weapons to a point beneath the canopy of one, without their shoes, trousers folded at the hem, sleeves pushed up.
"Do you want to tell me what's actually going on?" Kakashi finally asks, hand still moving. He doesn't miss the way Sasuke falters just a bit, how the young man tries to cover his flub with stronger motions.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't you?"
"If you have something to say, just say it," Sasuke demands, gaze narrowed, brows knitted in irritation.
Kakashi sighs. So uncute. "Since getting here, you've been nothing but weird, especially where Sakura's concerned." There; a tick mark forms on his jaw. "I thought you two parted on good enough terms?"
"We did," Sasuke stiffly says. "I've just..." He frowns down at his sword, hand grinding to a stop. Then he looks at his advisor. "You didn't tell me you've been to Senju."
Kakashi refrains from saying the obvious: "you never ask" and shrugs instead. "It was a long time ago. Before the walls were put up."
"But...the others. Except for Gaara. The others have been there too."
Ah. "So you noticed that."
"Naruto wasn't exactly the most inconspicuous about it," Sasuke points out dryly.
"So not him, but the fact that Lord Neji and Shikamaru have. That bothers you?"
Sasuke's annoyed expression is almost petulant. Reminiscent of a child that doesn't want to admit something. It makes Kakashi grin.
But despite being all for teasing, this topic is uncharacteristically sensitive to his king. With a firm strike of whetstone to blade, he asks, "Nothing like you imagined?"
It's like throwing a bone to a desperate dog and Sasuke takes the offer for what it is: shutting the topic down. For now.
Curtly, he nods. "Nothing."
Thorns wrapped around the stem of a ballerina rose flash across his all-seeing eyes and he strikes stone against blade hard enough to spark.
Gaara flicks his wrist experimentally, checking the weight of the dagger in his palm. It's exquisite, light, nothing like the heavy metals in Wind. It would suit his fighting style: swift, cunning, brutal.
"Enjoying the hardware?"
He glances over his shoulder, sees a tall, lean man, older than he by several years, donning twisted hair settled at the top of his head and eyes colored like white beaches. Suna's king inclines his head at the guy's bow.
"It's stainless steel. Painfully sharp." The man nods at a test dummy. "Give it a try."
Gaara contemplates the dagger, observes the weight distribution in the body of its blade, heavier than its handle. It must be meant for throwing, he thinks, so he turns it blade-side-up and pitches.
The man whistles at the bullseye.
"As expected, Your Highness."
"Are they being sold anywhere?" he asks after a moment, gazing back down at the full set of twelve.
A noise of affirmation greets him. "Io is the greatest blacksmith in all of Fire Country," he says, "and his apprentice, Shoseki, is supposed to arrive soon."
"How soon?"
"Within the hour, if I'm not mistaken. With the party from Lady Hinata's side of the road."
Gaara hums. "I'd like to place an order with him."
The man smiles, small but crooked but his eyes don't emote. They're too featureless to indicate anything. "I'm sure it would be an honor."
Gazing at him more closely, Gaara finally asks, "And you are?"
"Pardon my impertinence. My name is Hoheto Hyuga. I am a part of the guard here."
"I see." Gaara picks up one of the gorgeous daggers and asks, "you wouldn't happen to be free for a spar, would you?"
Neji grumbles to himself, vaguely irritated. Hoheto's nowhere to be found and the twittering idiot at his side hasn't stopped babbling about every single damn thing they've come across, whether it's scenery or rooms or people or—"holy shit, there's literally no fucking pupils anywhere in this place."
No Neji, he tells himself, we can't commit any international crimes. Paying for transport of a royal corpse is fucking expensive.
Ugh.
Choosing to give up searching for his rogue family member, he makes a sharp left. Crossing the fields after meeting with the specialist quarters meant passing the stables and Naruto takes this as the prime opportunity to brag about his flourishing equestrian training.
"It's about time you started learning how to horseride," Neji remarks dryly. Naruto's enthusiastic grin is positively blistering. Dolt.
But at realizing Neji's hidden jab, the smile is replaced with a mediocre glare.
"Hey," he says matter-of-factly, "it's not like everyone has time to be so dull or whatever like you." He huffs, arms crossed. "I swear, you and bastard eat asshole for breakfast considering all the shit you say to me."
Neji blanches. "I think you need better word choice for that insult."
"Huh?" Then it hits him; "Oh, ew." Screwing his face up, he continues, "Well, whatever."
Insert picking at ear.
Combined with Neji's rapidly thinning patience, Lord Hyuuga desperately holds onto the blatant fact that strangling his companion would result in such terrible money loss.
A shame.
Finding something to talk about, Naruto then rockets off on a new tangent and Neji barely listens, doesn't even give him the courtesy of nodding when deemed appropriate but it seems Namikaze's king barely cares. They round a corner, heading to the south gate where the party from Hinata's kingdom would arrive.
Making a right, Naruto runs directly into another person and out of reflex, Neji takes a step back to counter his balance. The blonde lands, bracing his body with his knees and he laughs off the surprise.
"Oh my god, Y-Your Highness, I'm so sorry—"
"Hey, it's no big deal," Naruto waves off, standing to full height and brushing dust off his trousers. "You alright? I bumped into you pretty hard."
"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Your Highness, Lord- Hyuuga..."
Neji finally catches sight of their interception once Naruto's broad frame steps out of the way. In but a second, his blood feels much too cold to give him life.
For there stands the woman he worked hard to forget all those years ago, inadvertently replaced by Sakura's sweet touch and wicked kiss. This woman—accompanied by the mansevant who was once his best friend.
The hurt has grown numb over time but evidently, not forgotten. Despite sending the both of them with Kurenai and Yugao to the northern kingdom, distance has done nothing to temper the hurt.
It hadn't been his choice though, nor was it Hinata's. He'd actually been opposed to the relocation but the Hyuuga Council insisted—they needed to save face because Prince Neji loved a lowly maid.
"Unacceptable," they would say, a quartet of stern mouths and silver tongues. "She is unfit to be by your side, therefore she will be moved."
It went on for months, the slander. But it was the woman he loved they were talking about, the woman he's known all his life, who transcended the bounds of social class, and he'd be damned if he'd let a band of old men dishonor her.
She'd stay, he decided firmly, because the Council has no say in his affairs and he'd like for her to be here, with him. She'd stay and she'd tell them when they would inevitably summon her and he would support it, one hundred percent.
He'd gone down to the lower chambers that day to tell her but of course, someone somewhere must've hated him. It's faint, the memory, because it's been pushed off to the side so much that the image is frosted.
His manservant—one of his greatest, longest friends—and the woman he loved, liplocked in between the plumes of steam rising from the pots and pans toiling in the kitchens. Lee—the very same man who knew about how deeply he felt for Tenten and yet—
No, he didn't love this woman anymore. But it's been hard, trying to forgive, even harder to forget. All his trust, time, effort, love—and...
Tenten scrambles to say something else, Lee at her side. The loud, impassioned man looks bizarrely serious in this situation, his hand like an anchor on Tenten's elbow.
But Neji's gaze, hollow and a bit cold, is fixated on the woman.
She swallows; he can see her nervousness. "Neji," she starts. His neck flexes at being addressed so casually, as if she hadn't torn out his heart. "I..."
Lee's hold on her elbow becomes stronger, more frantic. "Tenten, we can't address him like that—" They used to. He used to not mind and they used to fondly say his name all the time.
She tries to shake his hold, eyes wide and hands trembling. She looks like she has a million things to say.
That's too bad, Neji thinks blankly, she had opportunities and choices. Millions of them. None she'd taken.
"Lee, no—" She gnaws at her lip, a regular sign of her frustration but the action is no longer endearing. "I just. We didn't—" She turns to Neji, shoulders set but eyes scared. "We didn't get a chance to talk."
"You think this is an appropriate time to talk?" Neji asks. The incredulousness is so absent, a blatant jab, and she winces. The context is poor, the environment, worse. It looks bad. "I take it you arrived with the party that Hinata sent?"
Naruto edges warily towards Neji. The temperature of the room's dropped cold enough for him to start aiming for de-escalation. "Hey, we should go."
Neji hums but that's it. He waits for the couple's reply, ignores the rings on their fingers and the threads between the two.
"Yes, we—the veterans are with Sir Asuma," Lee cuts in, holding Tenten by the shoulders, the space between his brows furrowed. The brunette woman looks like she wants to reiterate what she'd said earlier but Lee's hands grow tight, asking her to let it go.
Reluctantly she does. Neji inwardly scoffs. So now they have their own language?
He ignores the ache in his chest, the roar in his ears, and throws up his walls. Finally, she tries to say, "We missed you—" but Neji is faster.
He ribbons her sentence with a sharp, curt, "I trust you remember your way around the castle. Return to your chambers by curfew. Have a good evening."
And with that, Neji turns sharply on his heel and stalks away. The lines of his shoulders, his back, are tight and imposing, like an angered leopard walking away from shallow waters and gangly corpses, no food in sight.
Naruto follows behind.
Revised 06/30/20 and finished 01/24/21, and aside from the usual expected changes, I wanted to reintroduce some points I had in my previous author's note. This chapter isn't nearly as big as the last, and it definitely has some filler to set the scene for the next, but here's some bg info:
I studied several Narutoverse maps (check 'em out) over the course of writing this story and noticed this little nugget of land. Long story short, it's not Fire Country territory so I made it a vanishing island.
Vanishing islands appear and disappear with the tide/water level.
Neji's probably being a bit of a dunce at the end, and Tenten and Lee seem oddly meek. I kind of thought of it as well—hey guys, Neji was in love with Tenten, enough to disregard his own Council (y'all know the Hyuuga are hardasses), and turns out she's been cheating on him with his own best friend.
Like dang, I'd be cold too.
Hope you had a good time bros. I'm finally caught up on rewrites for this and stuff.
- burrblefish
