Chapter 10: The Caged Bird

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

###

Shikamaru had given up trying to find a comfortable position and was now just sitting against the wall, Hyuuga-san leaning against his chest. He was afraid to move away, afraid to face what he feared might be true: that Hyuuga-san was dying. If he stayed here, he might stave that off.

He had not thought he would be able to sleep, but he had slept very little the night before, and before long he dozed off. In his dreams, he saw his hands again, covered with Hyuuga-san's blood. But this time it spread, soaking into everything, all over his room, and try as he might he could not wash it off. The more he tried, the more it got on him, and Hyuuga-san lay still, just looking at him with those strange white eyes. He awoke, his heart pounding.

The first thing he noticed was silence; the harsh labored sound of Hyuuga-san's breathing had ceased. The Hyuuga lay still and cold in Shikamaru's arms. His shirt was damp, and Shikamaru's own shirt was soaked as well, where Hyuuga-san was leaning against his chest. Was it blood? The nightmarish scene from his dream filled his mind. A wave of panic and grief hit him, and for a moment he could not breathe.

But in the next minute he became aware that if he was not breathing, the Hyuuga - Neji - certainly was. He was sleeping peacefully, his breathing even and slow. The dampness on his shirt was sweat. His fever had broken.

Shikamaru let his breath out in a long sigh of relief. He realized that his back was aching; also, that he did not want Hyuuga-san to wake up in this position and try to kill him. Carefully, gingerly, he eased Neji down onto the bed. But as soon as his head touched the pillow, the Hyuuga opened his eyes, staring at Shikamaru in startled, wary confusion.

Shikamaru moved back a little, so that it wouldn't be evident he had been touching Neji. "Hyuuga-san... how do you feel?"

The Hyuuga frowned at him without answering.

"Do you know where you are? Do you know who I am?"

Hyuuga-san's eyes roamed around the room and came to rest on Shikamaru's face. Slowly, he nodded.

"Can I get you anything? Some tea or water? Are you in pain?"

Stiffly and painstakingly, Hyuuga-san pushed himself to a sitting position. "I need a bath," he whispered hoarsely.

"A bath?" Shikamaru repeated in disbelief.

"I need…to wash…"

Shikamaru had to admit he could see his point. The sheets of the futon were soaked with sweat, as was Neji's hair. There was also some dried blood that his mother hadn't gotten to wash off in the stress of the moment. It couldn't be very comfortable. Still...

"You can't right now... it's the middle of the night... and you're not in any shape to -"

He broke off, as Hyuuga-san, by a sheer act of will it seemed, struggled to his feet and began walking toward the bathroom.

"Hold on, hold on, I'll help you."

"I don't…need help."

"Yeah, you do," Shikamaru said firmly. No way was he letting Hyuuga-san go into the bathroom on his own. Even if he didn't try anything again, he was still groggy and weak. He could hit his head or pass out and drown in the soaking tub. "Oh yeah, and you shouldn't get those bandages wet…it might start the bleeding again."

In the bathroom, he helped Hyuuga-san take off his shirt, then got some warm water and a washcloth. He wrung it out so that it was just damp and handed it to Hyuuga-san. Slowly and painfully, Hyuuga-san washed his face and front. When he had finished, Shikamaru handed him a towel to dry his face, took the cloth from Hyuuga-san and rinsed it out. There was still a lot of blood; the water ran pink with it. Carefully avoiding the bandages, he did Hyuuga-san's back. He could feel Hyuuga-san tense up; it was almost palpable how much he disliked being helpless like this, so Shikamaru tried to be as quick as he could without hurting him.

Hyuuga-san reached haltingly toward the water, almost toppling off the stool in the process.

"What do you need?"

"I…to wash my hair."

"Is that really necess – all right, all right, just sit still, I'll help you."

"No…"

"Yes."

Hyuuga-san hissed at him, but, surprisingly, didn't put up any further fight. Shikamaru thought a full shampoo would be too troublesome right now, so he settled for just rinsing Hyuuga-san's hair and drying it, which Hyuuga-san seemed to accept. When it was done Hyuuga-san seemed worn out by the effort. Shikamaru brought him some clean clothes and helped him put the shirt on, over Hyuuga-san's weakly irritated protests. He let Hyuuga-san put his own pants on, a process that took several minutes. He had to remind himself to be patient; he was exhausted as well.

He led Hyuuga-san to a chair, hoping he'd stay there, and went down the hall to the linen cupboard to get some clean sheets. Thankfully, Hyuuga-san had not moved when he returned. He stripped the damp linens off the futon, tossing them into a corner for now.

Hyuuga-san seemed to rouse himself. "I'm sorry you have to humble yourself changing the sheets of a slave," he muttered, sounding more hostile than sorry.

"You're not a slave," Shikamaru said in annoyance, "and it doesn't humble me to change the sheets for a guest."

They glared half-heartedly at each other. Shikamaru sighed. "Look, it's late, and we've both been through a lot tonight. Why don't we just get some rest."

Hyuuga-san moved to the futon, and Shikamaru went into the bathroom to empty the water and pick up the washcloths and towels and damp clothes, which he tossed into the corner with the sheets. He would deal with the laundry tomorrow.

Turning back, he saw that the Hyuuga had not laid down to sleep. He was sitting on the edge of the futon, trying to comb his hair. It was slow going, and he was having some trouble lifting his arms, doubtless because of his injuries. He stopped as the comb got stuck, seemingly stymied by an insurmountable tangle.

Shikamaru went over and removed the comb, then gently nudged him to lie down. "Get some sleep, Hyuuga-san." Hyuuga-san did not resist; he looked like he was halfway out already. Shikamaru lay down on his own bed. What a troublesome night it had been; what a troublesome week it had been. Since meeting the Hyuuga, he had had more headaches and stress than in the first fifteen years of his life combined.

And that throwing star – how the hell had Hyuuga-san managed to get hold of that? Shikamaru was kicking himself over that one. He would definitely have to be more vigilant in the future.

Nevertheless, the most important thing was that Hyuuga-san was still alive. Just that thought made him feel lighter as he closed his eyes.

###

He was still alive. The knowledge came down on Neji like an immovable, crushing stone, as soon as he opened his eyes.

He had failed.

He had failed at being a Hyuuga; he had failed at being a warrior; and now, he had failed to end his life honorably. He was still a Pet, still here in the South Country, still full of irrevocable shame. He was a bigger failure than Hinata would ever be.

"Hey, you're awake," a voice said. Neji turned his head. Nara-san was standing in the doorway, a tray in his hands holding a pot and two bowls. "I brought you some soup," Nara-san said. He set the tray down next to the futon and lifted the lid of the pot. Neji could see some kind of bright orangey mixture. The sharp spicy smell made his stomach turn. He shut his eyes, turning his head away.

"I'm not hungry."

"Here, look, it's okay, I'll share it with –"

"No..." Neji couldn't even look at it. "Please, just take that away."

Nara-san waited a moment or two, then said, "Sure," and mercifully carted the pot away. In a little while he returned with some plain rice and clear soup. Neji ate a little, not because he had any appetite, but to get Nara-san to go away and leave him alone.

"Hyuuga-san, do you need anything more?"

…

"Are you in pain?"

…

"The doctor will be by later to check on you."

…

He was bandaged up, so presumably they had gotten the doctor when they found him. He felt a dull humiliation at the thought of the botched seppuku. There was a sharp, deep pain in his abdomen, as if a sword were literally stuck in his gut. He almost welcomed the pain, because it took his mind off everything else.

"Will you take some of the medicine? Here, I'll even take some too…"

…

"Do you want the window open or closed?"

…

"Amazing sunset tonight…can you see it?"

…

The sun set; the sun rose again. The doctor came; the doctor left. He sipped some water; he sipped some soup. He closed his eyes, but he did not sleep. He stared at the wall. For the first time in his life, the future held absolutely no meaning for him at all.

###

Wild animals could have their spirit broken.

They stopped fighting, stopped eating, stopped grooming themselves, stopped moving around, and eventually just shut down and died. Shikamaru had seen this.

He was certain that was what was going on with Hyuuga-san. Even though Shikamaru brought him the simplest, plainest foods – clear broth, rice, fresh fruit – Hyuuga-san would only eat a bite or two, then lay his chopsticks down listlessly. He had not tried to wash or comb his hair since that abortive attempt two days ago, and it hung in limp tangles. When Shikamaru spoke to him, he often did not answer or only answered in monosyllables.

Shizune had come to check up on him and said he was healing up well. Even then, Hyuuga-san had not threatened her life or snarled at her to get away from him. He had apathetically let her examine him, shrugging when she asked if he was having pain and if he was taking the medicine, not responding when she attempted to make conversation by asking him about his life.

As he walked her out, Shikamaru had asked her about Hyuuga-san's lethargy, the way he seemed to have given up.

"He's probably just weak and in a lot of pain," Shizune said reassuringly. "Remember, he lost a lot of blood. Give him a few days to recover. He'll probably perk up when he's feeling stronger."

Shikamaru thanked her and beat a hasty retreat before she could start talking about how sweet it was that he cared for Hyuuga-san so much. What the hell else was he supposed to do? Hyuuga-san needed care, and if he didn't provide it, who would? Certainly not his parents, who had troubles of their own. His mother walked around with dark circles under her eyes, the corners of her mouth turned down, silent except for when she snapped at the cook or the guards. His father had left during that terrible night and not returned. Shikamaru knew he did not have a mission, so where was he? Would he ever come home?

Kiba's father had left like that, after a fight, and never returned. Kiba had said his mother chased his father away. Kiba said it offhandedly, like he didn't miss having a father, but Shikamaru knew he did. Once he had overheard Iruka talking, saying that Kiba would not be half so wild if his father had been around.

It was time to prepare Hyuuga-san's lunch, although Hyuuga-san seemed to have no appetite, and probably wouldn't notice or care if he forgot. But he had promised to provide care, and, even though he loathed the thought of being Master of a Pet, he would uphold the promise.

###

Neji reluctantly turned his head toward the doorway as Nara-san came trudging in, bearing a tray with soup and rice. He wondered why Nara-san bothered. Maybe he had taken those ridiculous vows seriously.

"Here…really bitter green tea, just the way you like it."

He did not want to taste the green tea, because it reminded him too much of his home and all that he could never go back to. But he did not want to eat the terrible food of the South either. He could not even figure out what half of it was.

"By the way," Nara-san said, cutting a rice ball in two, "while you were ill, you told me your name was Neji."

It was strange, and unsettling, to hear his first name spoken again after all that had happened. He had to fight back emotion before he answered, "It is."

Nara-san gave a little bow, as if Neji had just introduced himself, which in a way he supposed he had. "Do people call you by that name in your country? Or are they more formal?"

"They are more formal," Neji said shortly. He did not want to discuss his country. Honesty compelled him to add, "But yes, my friends and family do."

"I don't presume to be your friend, Hyuuga-san...but I hope you know I'm not your enemy."

Friend, enemy, Master, host, roommate…what did it matter to Neji what Nara-san called himself? What did Nara Shikamaru know of anything? He had both parents, a safe home, a guaranteed future – and despite all this, no apparent ambitions or goals other than thinking up ways to avoid working and laze about in the sun. He was less important than dust to Neji and always would be.

###

Shikamaru brushed dust from the balcony table, and set up his shogi board. It was a good spot, warm but shaded from the sun. He often played against himself in this way, working out strategies for the game. It was one of his favorite activities. Today, however, he could not seem to muster up much interest in the game. He leaned back in the chair. The balcony was also a prime spot for cloud-watching, but today, even though there were some fine specimens scudding along overhead, he could not seem to lose himself in them as he usually did.

He felt bored. And restless. And lonely. It was ironic, he thought – so often on days when he had to get up for training, he had thought it would be so wonderful to have an unbroken stretch of days off like this. He had never imagined he would get sick of it.

He sighed and moved the first piece. He was trying out a new opening gambit, but he had a feeling he wasn't going to be able to win with it today. It required more concentration than he felt capable of.

A shadow fell over the board. "Mind if I join you?"

Shikamaru looked up to see his father standing there. A rush of relief filled him. "Hey, Dad. Where've you been?"

His father settled into the seat across from him. He too, looked like he hadn't been sleeping well. "Chouza's. Just needed some time to cool off."

Shikamaru nodded. Trying to keep his voice as casual as possible, he asked, "Why are you and Mom fighting so much?"

Shikaku grunted noncommittally. He gazed down at the board. "New opening, eh?"

"Is it because I took a Pet?" Shikamaru pressed.

Shikaku sighed. "That's, well…that's part of it. We don't see eye-to-eye about that."

"I thought you were both against it," Shikamaru said, trying to keep the edge of bitterness from his voice. "Neither one of you came to the Pet Ceremony."

Shikaku moved a piece, neatly blocking Shikamaru's opening. "Your mother was pretty upset. The traditions of the clan mean a lot to her." Yoshino was also from the Nara clan, although only distantly related to Shikaku.

"It's not that I wanted to…dishonor the clan," Shikamaru said. "But what else could I do? I tried everything else, and this was the only way I could see."

"You could have given the money to Iruka or someone like that to buy him," his father suggested, as if this was an idea that had just occurred to him and not something Yoshino had screeched at him in the midst of their battle.

"There wasn't time, Dad. You were there, you know the situation. Even if I had time, I don't know that Iruka would have done it. Yeah, I know he paid for Naruto's freedom. But a Pet is different…it's this whole troublesome process." Shikamaru saw a way around his father's move. He slid his bishop into place.

"Well, that's the thing," Shikaku said, staring down at the board. "It's the fact that you actually went through with it that's killing her. That you have the Mark on you and all that."

"Why does she care so much what other people think?"

Shikaku shot him a piercing look. "It's not just that. She's worried about what it will do to you. What people will think of you. She's afraid you'll be shunned, that you'll never be able to marry anyone –"

"What? Look, first of all, Dad, I'm only fifteen! Second, Aoba told me that when I set him free, the Mark will go away. It's not like I'm branded for life."

"And you do intend to set him free when you're of age?"

"Of course," Shikamaru said, nonplussed.

"We're just concerned that you might…develop an attachment to this boy." Shikaku moved his rook, a standard defensive move.

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "I like girls, Dad."

Shikaku raised an eyebrow. "Well, he is pretty girly-looking."

"Not really. And he definitely doesn't act like a girl. He doesn't have a soft or gentle side." Shikamaru advanced a pawn. "Of course, not all girls have a soft and gentle side, either. Some of them just yell all the time."

"If you mean your mother," Shikaku said, "she has a soft side."

"Uh-huh," Shikamaru muttered dubiously. "When I get married – which won't be for many years – I'm going to marry someone calm and placid. Not temperamental."

"Ah, temperamental's not so bad," Shikaku said. "As passionate as she is while fighting, she's that passionate about defending her home and her family." He captured Shikamaru's pawn, laying it off to the side. "And the honor of the clan."

Shikamaru leaned forward, pressing his fingertips together. "The way I see it, Dad, I am upholding the honor of the clan. Our clan has always been against slavery. Yeah, I enriched a slave trader – but I did it to save someone from a life of slavery. This year will be troublesome, but it's just a year. Then I'll set him free, and it will prove what the Naras stand for – that we don't keep slaves or Pets, and we don't allow anyone on our land to be handed over to slave traders."

Shikaku nodded slowly. He looked down at the board. "You play a good game, son."

Shikamaru felt the knot in his chest ease a bit. They played the next several moves in silence.

"Do Ino and Chouji's dads know?" he asked at last, trying to keep his tone casual.

Shikaku grunted an assent. "I wanted them to hear it from me."

"So Ino and Chouji know also?"

Shikaku pondered a move, running his fingers over the scar that marked his face. "Just us. I figured you would tell your friends in your own time."

Shikamaru nodded. He started to say something more, but his father was not listening. He was focused intently down at the courtyard below. Shikamaru followed his gaze. Yoshino was walking across the courtyard, a mesh bag of groceries in her arms. As if she sensed something, she stopped, looking up at the balcony. She and Shikaku locked eyes, staring at each other wordlessly for a long, long moment. Glancing from one to the other, Shikamaru could see some of the weariness and sadness leave their faces.

Shikaku rose hastily, almost knocking over the chair. "Good game, son. We'll have to finish it another time."

Shikamaru nodded. He studied the board. He would have to play his father's side now too, but he thought he could see Shikaku's strategy. He leaned his head on one hand, enjoying the sunshine, feeling more hopeful now. Hyuuga-san had said more than two words at lunch, and his parents looked like they were reconciling. Things were better when his father was around.

###

From his futon, Neji watched the two Naras on the balcony. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he could see they were having some kind of intense discussion and playing a board game. Shikamaru was very glad to see his father, Neji could tell that much.

Neji felt the heaviness in his chest again. How different would his life have been if his own father had been around? Maybe he would not have been as angry, or felt that he was alone against the Hyuuga elders. Maybe he would not have left. Maybe he would not have been so ready to believe Orochimaru.

A confused memory stirred, from the time he had been so ill and out of it. He frowned in sudden wonder, trying to recapture it. His father's spirit had come to him – or maybe he had only dreamed it. But strong arms had held him, and a hand had stroked his hair comfortingly.

You just rest, Neji…I'm going to take care of you…

Who else in his life had ever touched him with such tenderness? Certainly not his uncle, and he had never had a lover. He did not count what had happened with Kidoumaru. That had been pure hate, on both their parts.

Kidoumaru's dying face rose in his mind…his shocked expression...

Curse…you…

This was his curse, right here, right now. And as much as he missed and needed his father, would he really have wanted his father to see him here, like this?

The only other possibility was that it had been Nara-san. Neji had a hazy memory of Nara-san being right next to his bed when he awoke. But if it was Nara-san, Neji could think of only one explanation. Nara-san actually meant to make him a Pet.

He couldn't really bring himself to care that much. Of course he would not let Nara-san, or anyone else for that matter, touch him ever again. But beyond that, what?

He turned his head to the wall, not wanting to see the Naras any longer.

###

Shikamaru lay across his bed, reading. He glanced over to check on Hyuuga-san, only to see his cat Michiko making a beeline for the futon. He debated whether to scoop her up and toss her out, or just see what developed. It could be disastrous; Michiko had a talent for spotting people who feared or just plain disliked cats, and making it her business to convert them with an overwhelming amount of kitty attention. He doubted Hyuuga-san would react well to that.

On the other hand, she also seemed to have a sixth sense for when someone was injured, sick or sad, and would come to sit quietly with them for hours. Hyuuga-san was all of these, so it was possible she might be good for him. When Shikamaru had broken his leg, or his parents were having a particularly nasty battle, her warm weight had always brought him some solace.

Michiko had reached the edge of the futon and was sniffing with interest at the ends of Hyuuga-san's hair. He was still gazing dully at the wall and did not seem to notice. Apparently approving of his scent, she hopped daintily onto the futon, making her way like a tightrope walker along its edge. Shikamaru held his breath for a moment. Michi liked to sleep on a person's lap or chest, but trying that with Hyuuga-san would undoubtedly result in one or both of them getting hurt. But Michiko, perhaps sensing that Hyuuga-san had a stomach wound, did not try to walk or sit on him, instead simply nestling in against his side. Hyuuga-san turned his head as she settled down, glancing down indifferently at the small orange cat with a white nose so boldly sharing his bed.

Shikamaru let out a breath of relief and returned to his book. A few moments later he heard the distinctive sound of Michi's motorboat purr. It shook Hyuuga-san out of his stupor as well, and he turned again to stare down at her, looking vaguely perturbed.

"Is it growling at me?" Hyuuga-san asked, his voice a raspy whisper.

Shikamaru laughed. "No, she's purring. It means she likes you."

"Hn."

"You haven't been around cats very much, I guess."

"My uncle doesn't care for animals," Hyuuga-san said, sounding like he didn't much, either. But when Shikamaru looked up again after a couple of minutes, Hyuuga-san moved his hand closer and gingerly touched Michiko's fur. As Shikamaru watched surreptitiously, Michi stuck out her small pink tongue and licked his hand, earnestly washing him the way a mama cat would her babies. Hyuuga-san closed his eyes.

Shikamaru smiled to himself. Go, Michiko.

###

Neji had always thought having animals on the bed was low-class and disgusting. But he could not seem to muster the energy to push Nara-san's little orange cat off. Now it was licking him, who knew why? He hoped it was not intending to try to eat him. Foolish little cat; he was twenty times its size.

As animals went, it was not so bad. The heat of its body next to his was not unpleasant, and its fur was soft.

It was getting to be dusk, the shadows lengthening. Nara Shikamaru had put away his game pieces and was tidying up.

"Here, that pillow's all lumpy. I brought you a better one."

The new pillow was soft and comfortable. Neji felt himself sinking back into it. He tried to resist. He didn't want to be comfortable; didn't want to be like those pretty, pampered Pets lounging on their cushions eating sweets. He was a warrior, he had to stay tough...

But what was the use, really? What did anything matter anymore?

He closed his eyes and gave in to the softness of the pillow.

###

Shikamaru awoke from another jumbled dream. Half-asleep, he scanned the room out of habit and was met by a startling sight: a beautiful woman was asleep in his bedroom! With creamy skin and long dark hair splashed over her cheek and one bare shoulder, she resembled a painting of a goddess he had seen in one of his books.

But in the next instant, fully awake, he realized his mistake. His sleeping guest was no goddess, but only Hyuuga-san, his troublesome houseguest.

Hyuuga-san stirred and opened his eyes. Shikamaru mentally scrambled for an excuse as to why he was staring at Hyuuga-san while he slept, but the white eyes that met his showed a complete lack of interest. Indeed, Hyuuga-san seemed not to be seeing him at all, but to be gazing right through him to something far, far away.

Shikamaru felt a helpless sadness come over him. It was strange, since he knew he had no feelings for Hyuuga-san beyond, of course, duty. Was he once again somehow experiencing the other's emotions? Experimentally, he touched the seal on the back of his hand. It was not tingling this time; instead, it had gone completely numb.

Impulsively, without knowing quite why he did it, he left his bed and crossed the room to kneel next to the futon. Hyuuga-san regarded him indifferently, showing no fear or curiosity at his action.

"Hyuuga-san." No answer, as Hyuuga-san resumed staring into space. "Neji." That got his attention. "Don't give up." The passion and urgency in his own voice surprised Shikamaru. "I know you hate this; I know you feel you've dishonored your clan. Believe me, so do I."

Neji was looking directly at him now, his extraordinary eyes wide in the dim light.

"For hundreds of years, the Naras have never kept slaves or –" Shikamaru's voice cracked on the words, unexpected emotion hitting him. He had been able to discuss this with his father without breaking down; why could he not now? He pressed his lips together, trying to get himself under control. "But…but you do what you have to do."

Hyuuga-san struggled to sit up, and winced in pain. Automatically, Shikamaru reached out to take his arm and, surprisingly, Neji accepted the help instead of hissing at Shikamaru not to touch him.

"He cursed me," Neji said in a hoarse whisper.

Shikamaru blinked. "Who cursed you?"

"Kidoumaru."

"Kidoumaru?" Shikamaru did not know how to react to this, nor to the unsettling intensity of the Hyuuga's gaze. "Well, ah…I wouldn't worry too much about that. He's – he was – an idiotic asshole. Besides, he's Sound, and this is Sand. His curses have no power here."

Hyuuga-san sat back a little. One fine dark brow lifted fractionally, his expression clearly conveying, Please do not treat me like a child. "If that's so, then why are you also suffering?"

"Things happen," Shikamaru said, "sometimes terrible things...I don't know why." There was something about Neji's eyes that compelled honesty. "But I don't believe in curses or any of that stuff."

Neji closed his eyes for a moment, as if tired. "I have been cursed since birth," he whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"No one can escape their destiny."

"Well, obviously, then, it wasn't your destiny to die. It was your destiny to get better and go back to your family. I'm sure they're missing you."

Neji was silent for a long moment. "You're not stupid, Nara-san, but you don't know a lot about the world."

The remark hit home. It was true; he had been smart enough to keep the Sound from taking Neji back. But he had not known many things – how truly devious Orochimaru and Kabuto could be; how much it would hurt his mother; how the Pet Seal would affect a Hyuuga; how much shame Hyuuga-san would feel; how much this one act would isolate him from those he was closest to.

"You're right," he said quietly. "I didn't think a lot of things through. I do know one thing though. I know that I want you to live."

"Why?" Hyuuga-san asked, again staring at him with that intense gaze.

Shikamaru searched for an answer. Wasn't it just common humanity to want a person to live instead of die? But was that what had driven him to come over here in the middle of the night?

Hyuuga-san sat back. "No doubt you paid a lot of money to buy me," he said coolly.

Shikamaru felt like a door had been slid shut in his face. To cover his chagrin, he shrugged. "That money's gone either way. Orochimaru doesn't give refunds." As Hyuuga-san stared at him skeptically, he went on, "If you die in my house, do you think I want your spirit hanging around here, annoying and harassing me for the rest of my days? If you stay alive, I only have to put up with you for a year before I ship you back to your home country."

Was that a tiny, tiny…half-smile he saw on the Hyuuga's face? In the dim light, it was impossible to be sure. Figuring he should leave while he was ahead, he gave a little bow, then rose to return to his own bed.

"Good night, Hyuuga-san."

A graceful incline of the Hyuuga's head. "Good night, Nara-san."

Hyuuga-san lay back down and closed his eyes. Shikamaru did the same, but he was not asleep. He was replaying the moment in his mind; how Hyuuga-san had sat up and talked to him so openly. There was something about the dark, and the middle of the night, that had let them both be honest with each other.

And he was puzzling over what Hyuuga-san had said in that unguarded moment. Why would the son and heir of the most prestigious clan in the North Country say he had been cursed since birth? And, before: My uncle doesn't care for animals. If Hyuuga-san's father was, as he had said, the head of the Hyuuga clan, why would it matter what his uncle liked or didn't like?

###

A.N.: Thanks for reading, and especially for reviewing! (That's a hint to leave a review, if you didn't guess!) And Happy Birthday to Horologii!