Pretend
By EclipseKlutz

PG, K+
Drama/Angst/Romance
Neji/Hinata

Disclaimer: Pfft. I don't think I even own my socks, how the hell would I manage to own Naruto?

A/N: I didn't actually intend for my debut in the Naruto fandom to be a drabble—especially not one written in between very boring reading assignments or focused on this pairing. But this plot bunny has been nagging at me all day, and I have a feeling it'll keep it up until the next one eats it and takes over Operation: Distract. Honestly, I'd like to have a little bit of time in which my head is free of dust and bunnies.


He pretends that he loathes her and that she's a disgrace to the Hyuuga name. He pretends that he doesn't watch over her, that he doesn't tense every time another person comes near her—friend or foe, man or woman. He pretends he doesn't love her because, with her, he always pretends.

She trains and slowly becomes stronger, but he can't tell her that and she can't see it. Her father tells her she's weak, and she accepts it all with slouched shoulders and a broken spirit. Every time he watches her leave that room with a thinly veiled frown across her lips he has to pretend he doesn't care. He doesn't try to motivate her, doesn't try to tell her of the strength he's seen within her. He steps back and lets her pass, and he makes sure she makes it to her room unharmed.

He can't do much else, or so he tells himself.

She laughs and smiles with her teammates, clinging to them as though they are the only support she has. They're her only friends, the few beings who don't perceive her as meek and a lost cause. He never tells her she's wrong. He tells himself he would if she asked, but he knows she'll never be courageous enough to ask him—the one who tried to kill her.

He pretends he's not becoming a coward, but this pretense is as shallow as the others.

She cries and she loves and she hopes and she's always alone. Even her friends don't quite understand her, and he would never inform her just how well he does. He stands guard as she cries over the condescending remarks of her father, and each time his resolve to not sit beside her and hold her weakens just a little. He quietly observes from the shadows as she loves and cares for everyone she meets. Everyone but him, he decided a long time ago. He doesn't let it show how much the thought hurts. He silently cheers for her as she fights for what she believes in, and he refrains himself from motivating her when she hopes.

He tells himself he's only pretending that she doesn't need him. He never admits he's pretending he doesn't need her. But that's how it is, he knows. She'll be blind as he pretends, because, with her, he always pretends.


A/N: I wasn't going to mention this before you read it, but I'm still messing with the concept of drabbles. I've only written a few, and most of them have sucked—this is, admittedly, one of the better turn-outs and I'm not entirely fond of it.

Oh well. Review?