WITS-30: Sacrifice
The shooting stars had stopped. But Shikamaru still hadn't moved his bed from the balcony. He told himself it was laziness. He told himself he had to take it easy because he was just out of the hospital. He told himself that stupid sentimentality had no place in a shinobi's life.
But still…
He had slept with Neji in that bed. They had looked at the stars together. Neji had smiled and laughed; they had made plans together.
Shikamaru pressed a hand over his eyes. The lingering aftereffects of the poison had mostly dissipated. But the other pain, the worse one, went on and on with no end in sight.
"That's what being a shinobi means," his father had said the day before. "You lose people you're close to." He sighed. "I believe he meant well, he saved you, but there's nothing to be done."
His mother was uncharacteristically silent. She walked about the house with dark circles under her eyes. She had cared for Neji too. She too must feel the hours counting down.
What have you done to us all, Neji?
Life was so fragile. A few drops of poison, the slice of a sword, a slip on the cliffs, and it was all over. People got sick; they stepped on a rattlesnake; they got lost out in the desert. It was so easy to end a life.
But not love, oh no, love was damn near invincible. It would not die, it would not end, even if you wanted nothing more than to be free of it. It got its fangs in your heart and hung on. Shikamaru wanted only to forget, but love would not let him. It made him remember everything; it made him feel too much. He didn't want to think about how Neji had betrayed him; he didn't want to care. He didn't want the sharp hot pain that came when he thought of Neji being sprayed by the hose in front of a jeering crowd; he didn't want to ache when he thought about Neji alone in his cell waiting to die.
How troublesome his life had become!
Why did you have to hide in my stables, Neji? Why not somebody else's, or just keep going, past Suna altogether, to Chikaku maybe…
I have not had one day of peace since you came into my life.
But how empty that life will seem without you now.
Ino and Chouji visited. Ino brought more flowers, yellow this time, and Chouji brought a selection of snacks. They were trying to make him feel better, he knew. But, like him, they had no idea of how to react to this situation.
"Your hair's getting a little raggedy-looking," she remarked. "Why don't you let me cut it for you?"
"No thanks," Shikamaru said. He knew he looked a mess; he was still in his pajamas, lying on his bed. But he wasn't really up for a makeover by Ino.
"Your whole family looks so sad," she said.
"Mine is too," Chouji said. "They really liked him."
"Yeah," Shikamaru said. "I mean, he was part of the family really. He lived in our house, he slept in my –" Involuntarily, his eyes went to Neji's side of the bed. Ino's eyes widened. "—my room," he said hastily.
Ino bit her lip, as if trying to hold back a question. But, being Ino, she couldn't hold it back for long. "Were you two – you know – more than friends?"
"No," Shikamaru said shortly. "If anything, we're less than friends. I never wanted a Pet, but – we took vows and everything. He swore to be loyal, even to put my life above his, which was –"
"But Shika, isn't that what he did?"
Shikamaru stared at her.
"In the end," Chouji said. "He gave up his freedom and his life to save yours."
A sudden memory hit Shikamaru. Pain, weakness, dizziness…and Neji's voice in his ear telling him to hold on. He had thought he was dying and could do no more than cling to Neji's arm wrapped tightly around him, as Neji urged the horses to go faster, faster. Through the whole terrible ordeal that thought had been his lifeline. Neji is here. Neji is helping me. Neji will save me.
He would never have imagined that Neji had been the one to do this to him.
"I know he committed crimes," Ino was saying. "It's right that he went to prison. But he wasn't a bad person."
Shikamaru felt an ache in his chest that had nothing to do with the poison. "You don't have to speak of him in the past tense." Yet, his mind added.
"Shika…" She hesitated a moment, then plunged ahead. "Remember what you said to me at the Chuunin exam, when that Otogakure bitch was picking on Sakura, when you told me if I didn't help her, I'd always regret it?"
"I know you, Shikamaru," Chouji said. "I know you wouldn't just turn your back on a friend."
"I can't help him now," Shikamaru said almost angrily. "The Kazekage herself declared the death sentence. She's not going to go back on that."
"Maybe you can help yourself…so you don't always regret it."
"What do you mean?"
"You could go see him. You could say goodbye."
###
"Well, your time's almost up, Princess," Ibiki said, scowling in at Neji through the barred opening before pushing his food tray in through the bottom slot. "Say goodbye to your life of luxury."
Neji wasn't sure if this was a reference to Neji's presumed former life of luxury in Konoha, a dig at the fact that he had been living off the Naras for the past six months, or a sarcastic characterization of his current living conditions. Either way, he didn't really care. He had learned to tune out Ibiki and his constant stream of remarks that were designed to get under Neji's skin.
Neji's home now was a cell, eight by eight square feet. He had a mat on the floor to sleep on and a thin blanket. There was a slot in the door through which they would push meager, unappetizing meals that he had no doubt had been spit in or worse. He did not have much appetite, and usually sent the food trays back pretty much untouched.
Besides the bulb from the hall that was always on, day and night, the one source of light was a narrow, barred window high on the wall. It was level with the ground outside; if he stood back a little and tilted his head, he could see passing feet. If he lay on the floor against the opposite wall, he could even glimpse a sliver of sky.
A couple of times Ibiki had taken him outside, for a "bath" or "exercise." These had consisted of being sprayed with the hose or marched around the courtyard on a chain while onlookers gathered to stare and jeer. He had both dreaded and hoped that Shikamaru might be among the crowd, but he hadn't been.
Ibiki was fond of telling him how many days and hours remained until his death. It did not have the desired effect. Neji was beyond caring. He did not fear death; as far as he was concerned, they could do away with him right now.
Except…
In the ashes of what Neji's life had become, a tiny ember of hope still smoldered, a small, secret dream, that he could barely admit, even to himself – that Shikamaru might answer his letter.
Even if he just wrote back, Go to hell, Neji.
He knew he had no reason to expect that, no right to hope for that. He had betrayed the one person who cared for him, the one person in his life who had shown him kindness that was not dictated by duty. Shikamaru had given up his trip to China to rescue Neji from Orochimaru, had given him a room, food, clothes…cared for him when he was sick…included him in training and in his group of friends…even lied to protect him.
Most of all, he had been a friend. Neji felt a sharp pain in his chest, recalling those nights together, lying side by side on Shikamaru's bed, their sleepy voices mingling in the warm night.
And all Shikamaru asked in return was that Neji not run away or try to kill him. A not unreasonable request…and Neji had turned around and done both those things. Again and again the image rose in his mind of the way Shikamaru had looked when he last saw him, how pale and weak he had been, how slowly he had moved.
And the almost unbearable memory of Shikamaru's face when Neji had told him that truth. The way he had stumbled and collapsed.
He knew that Shikamaru probably wanted nothing to do with him now, would maybe not even read the letter, let alone answer it. But he also harbored another, more realistic hope: that Shikamaru would be present at his execution.
He didn't care who else was there, or what the actual execution would be like. He only wanted to see Shikamaru again, to look into Shikamaru's eyes one more time, and say how sorry he was.
###
"I don't want to be at the execution," Shikamaru said. "I don't even want to be in the village when it happens."
Iruka's eyes across his desk were sympathetic. "I understand," he said. "But you are not strong enough to go on an A or B ranked mission yet, and I don't think there are any C or D ranked ones outside the village right now, what with the Akatsuki threat."
"What about a diplomatic mission?"
"I don't think there are –"
"I had an idea for one," Shikamaru said. He had lain awake most of the night thinking, and had come first thing in the morning to pitch his proposal to Iruka. Things were clearer now in his mind; he knew what he had to do. Neji's execution was the day after tomorrow, and he could not watch Neji die.
Iruka's expression said, Why am I not surprised?"
"With Akatsuki on the loose and looking to attack, and Otogakure so weakened, it's important that the South get its defenses in order and form an alliance. Right now all the villages of the South are scattered and insular. If they're attacked, they can call on us for help, but we really need to all be working together. I propose that the Kazekage write some letters of treaty, asking that all the villages join together and formulate a strategy for fighting the Akatsuki."
Iruka raised an eyebrow. "That's actually a smart idea. The Kazekage herself was thinking the same."
"I would like to go to the villages, bring the letters of treaty, and meet with them. Once the treaties are signed, the Kazekage can call a meeting of all the villages to plan strategy."
"You'll need a team, of course."
"I'd like to bring Naruto and Chouji. Chouji's very strong and loyal, and Naruto's very good at bringing people together. I've told them about it and they've agreed."
Iruka nodded slowly. "What villages were you thinking of going to?"
"Wakaremichi; we never got there last time. Chikaku. Ishigakure. Koriyama."
"Koriyama? That's rather far."
"It's an important port. And Iwagakure. They're already our allies, but it can't hurt to have a meeting and formalize a plan."
Iruka made several notes on a pad in front of him. "Okay, well, it sounds like you've thought this out pretty well. I'll run it by the Kazekage."
"I would like to leave tomorrow, if that's possible."
"Well, we'll need time to get the letters of treaty, and everything in ord –"
"Please," Shikamaru said, letting his emotions show through for a moment. "Even if it's late afternoon."
Iruka rubbed the long scar that crossed his nose. "I understand," he said again. "I'll see what I can do."
Shikamaru stepped out into the heat of the day. He forced his mind to focus on the mission and nothing else. It would be a lot of traveling; on a long mission like this, there were many things that could go wrong. He was grateful to have this distraction, to be strategizing and planning for every contingency. It felt like coming back to life.
That was what being a shinobi was all about. You couldn't waste too much time grieving. You had to get up, get back in the saddle, and go on.
He would need supplies, he thought; food, water, weapons, camping gear. Methodically, thoughtfully, he made a packing list and then headed to the market to buy the things he needed. He packed up the two saddlebags and his own backpack, making sure to distribute the load evenly to make it easier on the horse.
Taking out three maps, one for each of them, he planned out the route and marked it clearly on the maps. They would stop at Chikaku first, then journey on to Wakaremichi. Then to the west for Ishigakure…
The name Spike Pass Bridge jumped out at him. That was where Neji had been going to meet those Akatsuki guys. For a moment, he stopped, resting his head in his hands.
What am I doing?
Then he got back to work. He had a job to do; he could not sit here mooning about. He could not dwell on what Neji had done, or his own illogical heart. He could not think about the disastrous last mission he had led, or the last one he had been on, with Neji and Kankuro. He would think about this mission, this mission only. It was important; maybe one of the most important things he would ever do.
He took Shadow to the farrier to have his hooves trimmed and new shoes put on. When they returned, he spent a long time brushing and grooming the horse. Being with Shadow always comforted him. On the way back to the house, he stopped in at the big kitchen to put in the order for food for the journey. Not scorpion. He did not think he would ever want to eat scorpion again.
Lying in bed that night, looking up at the unmoving stars, he mentally traveled the route, running over all the details and playing What if? at every step. What if the Akatsuki were already in a village? What if the Kazekage decided she wanted to wait and have someone more seasoned tackle this? It was early spring; snakes and badgers would be emerging from hibernation; they would need to be mindful of that.
For just one moment, he let himself remember being in this bed with Neji. For just one moment, he let himself think of how things would have changed the next time he slept in his own bed.
He rose early the next morning, bathed, and had breakfast with his parents. His mother did not want him to go on the mission, he could tell. Most likely she was remembering how he had come back from the last one half-dead. But she would not say anything. Her father and grandfather had been shinobi, her husband was one, and now her son. She knew how it was.
After breakfast, he headed over to the Kazekage's office to pick up the letters of treaty. Thankfully, the Kazekage had agreed to the mission, and the letters were ready, just as he had asked for. He was a little surprised; he had half-expected her to raise some objection. Perhaps she felt bad about sentencing Neji to death, he thought, and this was her way of making it up to him.
He met up with Naruto and Chouji to go over what they would need for the mission and inspect their packs. "Be at the gate at four o'clock," he told them. Naruto gave him a thumbs-up, looking excited. Chouji's expression was anxious but resolute.
"It will go well," he assured them, though he was not at all sure of that himself.
"Neji—"
"Please don't talk about Neji."
Back at the house, he made his final preparations. At a few minutes after three, he picked up the food supplies, saddled Shadow, and loaded the packs. He rode quietly out through the streets of Suna. The path to the gate took him past the back of the large building where the Kazekage and her officials had their offices. In the back, down at ground level, he could see a number of small, narrow windows. These were the cells. Neji was there, behind one of those windows, awaiting his execution tomorrow.
Shikamaru stopped. He stroked Shadow's neck. "Goodbye, my friend," he whispered.
###
It was quiet in the prison. Neji couldn't be sure, but he thought he might be the only one in the cells right now. Maybe there were one or two others; if so, they were probably too weighted down by the heat to make a sound. It was late afternoon, the hottest part of the day, when everyone stopped to rest. Ibiki had gone off duty and the young guard outside was most likely dozing as well.
For sure he was the only one with a death sentence. Ibiki had mentioned that, while he was reminding Neji yet again that he would die tomorrow. Neji had stopped listening to Ibiki; even so, it was a relief when he left for the day.
Neji leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He never really slept; he would doze fitfully and wake with a start, reaching for his sword and not finding it. There would be a second of disorientation before reality settled on him.
He wondered what had happened to the Masamune sword. He hoped with all his heart that it had been returned to Shikamaru.
It was amazing how long a day could be, how long an hour could be, when you were alone with nothing to do and no company except your own thoughts. He had heard the old saying that when you were about to die, your whole life would flash before your eyes, but that was not exactly what was happening to him right now. But random memories were coming into his mind, pieces of his life.
Shikamaru's face in the firelight on New Year's Eve. The colors of the leaves in Konoha in the fall. Sai's painting of the hawk. Hazy recollections, so old now he was not sure if it was really memory, or maybe just a memory of a memory – of his father's face and voice. He tried to hold on to these, but the more he tried, the more indistinct and amorphous they became.
Would he see his father again in the afterlife? Or meet his mother? If, as some people believed, there was one place for good people and one for bad, he was pretty sure he would not be going to the good place. The only good thing he had done in his short time on earth was save Shikamaru's life – which would not have been in danger in the first place if not for him.
Still, he would not let himself dwell on the most shameful, painful memories. There were plenty of those, but he had only one day left. He pushed them away when they surfaced, and turned his mind to other things.
The water battle with Shikamaru and his friends. Hinata bringing him some healing ointment for his injuries after a mission. The first time he won a tournament. Yoshino's quick, determined way of moving. The tall tree at the training grounds that he and Lee would always race to the top of. Waking up in Shikamaru's arms after going storming.
But even the good memories were bittersweet, because they were people and places he would never see again. Some of them he had hurt and could never make amends. It would be that final hurt they would remember him by forever.
And the most bittersweet – the one he returned to again and again in his mind even though each time it was a like a knife in his heart – kissing Shikamaru. He could remember every detail of that kiss.
His memories of Shikamaru were almost unbearable, and yet they were the only thing that made these last hours bearable. He would probably never see Shikamaru again, not that he really deserved to. But his foolish, hopeful mind could not accept that. It was what drew him to stand here, in the center of the cell, his head tipped upward to see through the bars, keeping his vigil for some small glimpse of Shikamaru passing by.
Mostly, what he saw was feet. Sandaled feet, boots, geta. Would he even recognize Shikamaru's, if Shikamaru were somehow to walk by? He had to believe he would.
Eventually, he grew tired of craning his neck and walked over to lean against the wall instead. Reaching up, he wrapped his fingers around the bars, just to feel a little outside air on his skin. He was taking a chance, he knew; anyone passing by could kick or stomp his hand if they noticed him reaching out. But what did it matter? He was going to die tomorrow anyway.
He wondered idly how they would do it. Hanging, beheading, stoning? It would be cruelly fitting for him to die by the sword, but doubtless they would choose some much more painful and humiliating method. He could not bring himself to care much about that either.
Dead is dead. Shikamaru had said that to him once. What does it matter how you die or how you're buried?
Footsteps sounded outside, approaching, and he heard the light creak of a key in the lock. They were not Ibiki's footsteps, so it was probably the other guard with his evening meal. He did not turn around, or even open his eyes.
"Neji."
Neji spun around, his heart pounding. Blood rushed to his face as he stared at Shikamaru standing there. The young shinobi looked much better than the last time Neji had seen him. The color was back in his cheeks and he stood with his familiar lazy ease. It looked like he was on his way to or from a mission, dressed in his uniform with a long cloak, and sunglasses pushed up onto the top of his head.
"So you're not eating again?" Unbelievably, Shikamaru's voice sounded concerned.
Neji could not even speak for a moment. Then he fell to his knees, pressing his forehead to the floor. "Shikamaru…I will never stop regretting what I have done. I –"
"I know. But you also saved my life at the expense of your own."
Neji raised his eyes to meet Shikamaru's. He owed Shikamaru that. "It's fitting…that you live and I die. You are a far better person than I could ever hope to be."
"Neji. Get up. Please." Shikamaru's words were commanding. Neji got to his feet. "There are many ways to kill a person without killing them," Shikamaru said.
Neji stood very still, looking at him. Was this his death, now?
"Betrayal, for one. That's like a knife in the back. You become harder on the outside but weaker on the inside, less able to trust."
"Shikamaru – I deserve to -"
Shikamaru's raised hand stopped him. "And there is the slow way, the poison that breaks everything down. Taking a person's freedom is like that."
Neji felt like an iron band was around his chest. As if he couldn't meet Neji's eyes, Shikamaru turned his head slightly.
"When a person has to watch everything they say and do, when every aspect of their life is dictated by someone else, then the person they truly are slowly ceases to exist." Shikamaru rubbed his forehead. Neji felt his throat closing up at the sorrow in Shikamaru's voice.
"You said you felt like a caged bird. A caged bird, no matter how well it is treated, is never fully a bird. It cannot fly freely like the other birds; it cannot choose its own company. When you look at it, you see a bird, but not the true bird it was meant to be." Shikamaru drew a deep breath. "I could never really know you, Neji, because you could never really be yourself."
"No, Shikamaru, you –"
"I wish I could have. I wish I could've seen you in your native land…I wish I could've known you as you were, before Orochimaru made it impossible for you to trust anyone."
"I…"
"I had dreamed of the day when I would set you free…when the Pet Mark would be removed…when I could offer you the full protection of my clan. I had hoped to escort you back to your homeland…maybe visit your village and see the places you told me about."
Neji caught his breath in anguish, envisioning it. That would have been exactly his dream too, if he had ever dared to dream that Shikamaru would travel with him all the way back to Konoha.
"Obviously, I can't do that now," Shikamaru said. "But at least I can give you what you have been wanting for so long." He stepped to the door and listened, then cracked it open, peering down the hallway before locking it again. "Okay, we don't have much time, so do exactly as I say." His voice had changed; the emotion was gone, replaced by the calm, decisive tone he used in planning strategy and on missions. "Take your clothes off."
Neji's mouth fell open in shock, which Shikamaru didn't see because he had turned his back and was busy removing his own shirt.
I can give you what you have been wanting for so long.
Shikamaru knew! He knew how Neji burned for him at night, how he longed for Shikamaru's touch. Neji could not believe it. His hands were shaking as he pulled the shirt over his head. True, it was not quite as Neji had imagined, with Shikamaru being so brusque and businesslike. He had thought they would at least speak, maybe kiss or touch. For a second, he flashed back to Kidoumaru.
But, he chastised himself harshly, he had brought this on himself. He knew Shikamaru would not be brutal, as Kidoumaru had been, or force anything. But if he was doing this out of pity, or even for revenge – if he was cool to Neji or distant – it was no more than Neji deserved.
He had stripped off his shirt and pants, and was about to remove his underwear, when Shikamaru's hand on his wrist stopped him.
"That's good enough. Here. Put these on."
Neji glanced down in bewilderment. Shikamaru was holding out his own clothes. A hot flush stained his cheeks as he realized how he had misunderstood the situation. He took the garments from Shikamaru and turned quickly away to dress. When he turned back, he saw that Shikamaru had donned Neji's prison garb and was holding a sharp kunai knife in his hand. His expression was serious, even grim.
Is this my death, now? Was Shikamaru here because he wanted to spare Neji the shame of dying in front of a jeering crowd, in prison clothes? It was more than he deserved, but he appreciated it.
Shikamaru stepped behind him. He grasped Neji's hair, tugging it just hard enough to tip Neji's head back, exposing his throat.
Neji understood what was happening. This was his kaishaku, the one who would finally finish the job by cutting his throat. It was fitting, he thought, that it was Shikamaru who should do it.
"Neji…" Shikamaru's voice was soft. "I'm sorry to do this."
Neji felt the cold steel of the knife against the side of his neck. He closed his eyes, readying himself. He felt no fear, only the piercing regret that he had never been able to tell Shikamaru all that was in his heart.
But in the next moment he felt the blade slicing through his hair.
He half-turned, looking at Shikamaru in astonishment. The tail of Neji's hair, still tied at one end, fell loose. Shikamaru caught it before it hit the ground, coiling it and putting it into his pocket. Neji stood frozen, still half-expecting to die at any moment.
Reaching into his bag, Shikamaru pulled out a tube of ointment. He rubbed some between his palms, then reached up to work it into Neji's hair. For just a moment, as he ran his fingers through Neji's hair, his touch changed, lingered, becoming almost a caress. In that moment Neji thought, I am his. Forever.
Then Shikamaru became businesslike again, gathering Neji's hair on the top of his head and pulling the tie from his own hair to fasten it. He stepped around to Neji's front, studying his handiwork critically and making a couple of adjustments, then pulled the sunglasses from atop his own head and placed them on Neji's face.
"Okay," he said, stepping back. "Listen to me. I can only say all this once and it's too risky to write it down, so listen carefully. Walk out of here, not too fast. I made sure to time it so that the guards here and the guards at the gate don't know me that well. Shadow is waiting at the gate. The saddle packs have supplies. Take him, and ride to the east gate of Suna. Naruto and Chouji will be there; wave to them and continue on, away from the village. When you get about a mile down the road, look in the right saddlebag for a map. Take the route marked in green; ignore the rest."
"I can't take your horse!"
"Yes, take him. He's the only horse I would trust on such a long and dangerous journey."
"Where am I going?"
A tiny smile appeared at the corners of Shikamaru's mouth. "You're going home."
Neji stared at him, stunned. Then the weight of what was happening hit him. "No…I can't let you do this."
"Neji…I have to. I promised to give you your freedom and I intend to keep that promise. I wouldn't have any honor if I didn't."
"You will have your honor no matter what. I know you would have set me free; it's my own fault I lost my freedom."
"Look," Shikamaru said urgently. "I've planned this. I'll stay here in this cell, under the blanket so they think it's you sleeping, hopefully until at least twelve hours are up. When they do find me out I'll tell them you overpowered me, took my horse and fled. They may suspect, but they can't prove otherwise."
"You don't need to go that far," Neji said, shaking his head. "If you can't live with letting me take my punishment, just leave the door not quite latched. I'll sneak out at night and it won't look like you had anything to do with it."
"And where will you go?" Shikamaru ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "How far will you get with no horse, no map, no money, no food?"
"It doesn't matter. I'll find a cave to live in; I'll find animals or fish to eat. I'll help you on your missions if you ever need it. There is nothing for me in Konoha, anyway, since I dishonored my clan."
"Are you an idiot? Everyone will be hunting you."
"I don't care," Neji said recklessly. The truth hit him with a sudden shock; now that they were face to face, he didn't think he could bring himself to leave Shikamaru.
"So, you were willing to risk my life to gain your freedom, but now you don't want it?"
"Not at this price! I can't let you sacrifice yourself for me." Unable to restrain himself any longer, he stepped forward, gripping Shikamaru's shoulders. "I lo—"
"Stop it!" Shikamaru shoved him away roughly, fury in his eyes. "Do you think I would ever be with a slave?"
Neji backed up, shaking his head.
"You always talk about how much you owe my family," Shikamaru said. He was breathing hard, as though trying to get his emotions in check. "There is only one way to repay me now, and I need you to do this. With Otogakure gone, Suna is vulnerable. There is only one thing that will stop the Akatsuki – an alliance between North and South."
Was that even possible?
"You said your uncle is a powerful man," Shikamaru said. "Powerful enough that your Kazekage would listen to him?"
"We have a Hokage," Neji said numbly. "But yes, probably."
"I need you to make peace with your uncle. Whatever it takes, do it. And then convince him to speak to the Hokage about this. There is a letter of treaty in my bag. I need you to do your best to foster an alliance."
"A letter –?"
"Please," Shikamaru said quietly. "Listen to everything I say, memorize it, and do what I tell you. Will you do that for me?"
Neji nodded slowly. It felt strange not to have the weight of his hair.
"Okay, listen…"
Neji listened. Intently, determinedly, trying to commit each word to memory. When he had finished speaking, Shikamaru stepped back. "Go," he said.
There was nothing else to do, although Neji felt sick as he stepped out and let the heavy door swing shut, locking Shikamaru into the cell. As instructed, he walked out at a medium pace, past the dozing guard, past the workers walking through the courtyard, the same ones who had gathered to laugh as he was paraded around. He felt no fear, no anxiety. What were they going to do if they caught him, put him to death again?
He half-expected it might be a trick when he did not immediately see Shadow at the gate. But no, there he was, thoughtfully tied in a patch of shade. Neji swung himself up into the saddle, and Shadow responded as naturally as if he had also been in on the plan.
Which he might very well have. It would be just like Shikamaru to talk to his horse about the plan.
At the gate, as Shikamaru had told him, Naruto and Chouji were there, arguing loudly, rifling through their saddlebags, and generally causing a disturbance in front of the bemused guards. Neji lifted one hand in a lazy wave, pointed at the gate, and rode on through.
###
Had Neji gotten out of the village, Shikamaru wondered tensely, as he lay on the sleeping mat, his back to the cell door. If anyone looked in, they would only see a dark-haired figure wrapped in a blanket, presumably asleep. Now it was just a waiting game.
His mind kept replaying that moment when Neji had grabbed his shoulders and looked like he might want to – do more. What had Neji been going to say? He had almost thrown away everything, all his planning, in that moment. Only the fact that Neji no longer looked like himself and now resembled a rough approximation of Shikamaru had made it possible for him to push Neji away like that. He was especially glad Neji had been wearing Shikamaru's sunglasses. If he had not – if Shikamaru had looked into Neji's eyes – he would never have been able to let Neji go.
He hoped everything had gone according to plan. He had scoped out the duty roster while he was in Iruka's office to figure out the best time, making sure to do it when the guards at the prison and the front gate did not know him or his team well. From Ino, he had found out where Neji was being held; Izumo had been on duty there before the trial. Walking in, he had looked official in his uniform. He had told the young, half-asleep-looking guard that he had a couple of questions for the prisoner, and flashed his mission papers, implying that it was some sort of decree by the Kazekage. As he had hoped, the guard had not checked too closely, just waved him on into the cells.
He had enlisted Naruto and Chouji's help. They were the only ones, besides him and Neji, who knew. He knew he could count on them both to back him up. If all went according to plan, they would have waited outside the building gates until they saw Neji come out. Then they would ride to the village gates and create a distraction – Naruto would say he had forgotten a bag of food supplies and search fruitlessly through his saddlebags for several minutes; Chouji would yell at him to go back and get it. They would argue until they saw "Shikamaru" ride by: Naruto would want to join him, and Chouji would insist on retrieving the forgotten supplies. Once Neji was out the gate and out of sight, Naruto would grudgingly give in and they would head back into the village. A short while later, they would ride out again, saying they were going to catch up with Shikamaru. Then they would complete the mission as planned. He had given the letters of treaty to Chouji – all except the one for Koriyama.
As Iruka had noted, Koriyama was probably too far away to be of much help in a crisis. He had picked that one for a different reason. Back in his bedroom with the letter, he had sharpened a kunai to a razor edge. Then he had used it to slice horizontally through the wax seal with the official stamp of Suna. Through some of his work with Shiho on codes and documents, he had learned about various inks and how they could be used to conceal. Working slowly and carefully – it was too bad he couldn't enlist the help of Sai or someone artistic like that, he thought wryly – he had changed the "RI" of Koriyama to an "N" and "YAM" to "OH." The results weren't perfect, but they were passable, and the letter now read, "To the Esteemed Leader of Konoha Village."
Then he had heated up the edge of his knife on the stove, and used it to melt the wax enough to rejoin the two halves of the seal. Unfortunately, it had cracked a bit in the process. But he wasn't too worried about that. It was a long journey from Suna to the North, so it wouldn't be remarkable if the letter arrived in less than pristine condition. Once he had finished, he sewed the letter into the lining of his vest.
It was a long shot, he knew, but if it succeeded, there might be a chance of defeating Akatsuki.
He had marked the route in blue on the three maps. Then he had taken a green pen and marked a different route, one that followed the river, but in an oblique, winding way. In the desert, you always had to be mindful of water – where it was, how to get it. They would know that; when the switch was discovered, they would be looking for Neji. He hoped the route he had planned was indirect enough so that Neji could avoid them. He clipped the green pen to the map, so that if Neji was caught, it would look like he had done the writing. Shikamaru was willing to take some considerable risks to do this, but he was no martyr.
He had used the same ultra-sharp knife to slice through Neji's hair a little while ago. He had deliberately not gotten his own hair cut, although it was badly in need of a trim, so that they would resemble each other more closely. He was no barber and his efforts on Neji's hair were bound to look a little rough. He touched the coil of hair in his pocket. It was the last memento of Neji he had.
He had thought a lot about what he wanted to say to Neji once he got there. He knew they wouldn't have much time; no use in recriminations or lengthy discussion. He wanted to make it clear that while he had not completely forgiven Neji, he understood some of the reasons why Neji had done what he had. And he had wanted to honor his original promise to Neji. What was it Temari had said – A life for a life. In the end, Neji had saved his life instead of running off with that Akatsuki guy. He deserved a second chance to make things right.
Please be safe, Neji.
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Please be safe, Shikamaru, Neji thought. What would they do to Shikamaru if they caught him? He had to fight off the urge to turn the horse around and race back to the cells. But Naruto and Chouji knew; they would back up Shikamaru's story. The best thing Neji could do for him now was keep his promise.
He rode without seeing anyone for a mile or so. Then, per Shikamaru's orders, he looked for the map to find out his route. He followed it until nightfall, keeping out of sight along the side of the cliffs. When it began to grow dark, he found a large crevice between two rock walls and stopped to make camp.
Shikamaru had packed well: first aid kit, map, money in several places; food rations; several canteens of water; a rainproof tarp and a blanket. Compass. Cooking pan. Flashlight. Rope. A small book entitled Survival Guide to Desert Plants and Animals. A flint for making fire and a small hatchet for cutting wood.
There was nothing personal; no note or picture. But deep in one pack Neji found a small wrapped package. Curiously, he opened it. Inside was a small bottle labeled Spice of Life, and a box of dumplings. He could tell from the scent that they were his favorite – the ones Yoshino made with the preserved-apricot filling. He lifted one and took a bite, then found himself unable to swallow it because of the tide of emotion that rose, choking him.
I will complete this mission, Shikamaru. I will not let you down. And I will not forget you. Ever.
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A.N.: Thank you for reading, everyone! Please leave a review and tell me what you thought!