A.N. Honto ni gomen nasai – sorry, sorry, sorry, once again, for the long delay in updating. This was supposed to be the final chapter, but it was getting so huge that I decided to break it up. So here is the first part; but don't worry, I have the second part almost completed so you won't have to wait months and months for it!

THE TEST

Shikamaru came of age on a beautiful sunny day with the world coming apart all around him.

It had been such a year. He could not even take in all that happened, let alone process it in an orderly way as he usually did, taking stock of the good and the bad.

His village was in peril. Otogakure was gone. He was a chuunin now. He had killed an Akatsuki. He had almost died, at the hand of the person he was closest to. They had lost one of the leaders of the village. He had lost his sensei.

And Neji.

There was not much he could do about the terrible state of the world, but there was one thing he could do in his own life, one thing he had promised to do, and he was determined to do it. After training, he headed for the Kazekage's office.

The halls were unusually busy, with many people rushing here and there, small clots of jonins discussing strategy in low voices, Iruka looking harried with a few strands of hair down from his usually neat ponytail.

"Shikamaru," Iruka said, looking up from his desk. "I can guess what you have come about."

Shikamaru looked at him in mild surprise. He hadn't thought that at a time like this Iruka, or anyone at the Kazekage's office, would know or care that today was his birthday, and what that meant.

"It's not…going to be possible right now," Iruka said, with a glance at the Kazekage's half-closed door.

"I don't –" Shikamaru was about to say he didn't require the Kazekage herself to lift the seal and sign the notice, when he was interrupted by her voice.

"Is that Shikamaru?" Tsunade said, sounding weary. "Have him come in."

"I told him it's not –"

Tsunade waved her hand. "I'll speak with him."

Shikamaru was shocked at her appearance. The Kazekage seemed to have aged 30 years since he had last seen her. Grief had settled heavily into the lines of her face and the shadows under her eyes.

"I suppose you are here to ask about putting together a mission to the North," Tsunade said. Her eyes, her words, seemed to accuse him of what he had in fact been guilty of – hoping Lord Jiraiya's mission would fail so that he would have a reason to travel to the North.

"I – no, I – "

"I'm not against it," Tsunade said. Her voice sounded wrung-out and flat. "But it's just not possible right now. If Jiraiya were –" Her voice cracked and she pressed a hand to her eyes.

"I'm sorry…sorry to intrude in your time of mourning," Shikamaru stammered. "I didn't – that's not…"

"Shikamaru, I don't think –" Iruka began, as Shikamaru made a quick bow and backed out.

"No, that's not –" Shikamaru felt shaken by the Kazekage's grief. He took a deep breath. "That's not what I came for. Today – my birthday – I made a promise –"

"It can wait until later, surely."

"No. I'm sorry for the trouble, but it has to be today. Not later."

###

It was late. Neji had just gotten home from training and was about to take a bath when, with no warning, a horrible pain exploded through his head. It felt like someone had taken an axe and smashed him in the face with it. The world blurred to a dark red color; he could not see, could not move. He could feel himself breaking out into a cold sweat. Feeling like his skull was about to break apart, he sank down onto his futon and stayed there, gripping his head in both hands.

What was going on? Was he ill? He never got ill. Had someone poisoned him?

He had not felt this kind of pain since –

The realization hit him, what date it was. The 22nd of September.

Shikamaru's birthday.

Shikamaru's coming of age, and the promise he had made to Neji. He had kept that promise. Even though Neji knew he must be grieving, even though his village was under attack from Akatsuki, he had kept that promise. Because he was Shikamaru.

All night he sat crouched on the futon, waiting it out. The pain grew more and more excruciating.

He heard Shikamaru's voice in his head, from the day the Pet Mark was put on: Are you okay? Can I bring you anything?

Shikamaru standing there with that concerned, helpless look. Neji had hated him so much in that moment.

Let me get a doctor, please!

Shikamaru taking care of him after the failed seppuku attempt. The way he had looked at Neji after that, not with pity, or mockery, but with a matter-of-fact kind of curiosity. He had been wary of Neji, a little apprehensive that Neji might attack him or try to harm himself again. But he had always seen Neji not as a freak or an alien, but simply as another person, someone who both intrigued and annoyed him.

Neji rested his head on his knees and felt a tide of wild emotion hitting him. He almost felt like crying, but he would not give in to that.

He hoped Shikamaru was not suffering too.

###

Shikamaru's hand hurt, a stinging, burning ache that felt like someone had dropped a hot coal on it. He held it gingerly to his chest as he walked home. He wondered if Neji was in pain too; he hoped not. He remembered the terrible day of getting the Mark, and how alone and overwhelmed he had felt, watching Neji go through that. Neji had seemed so foreign to him then, so unknowable, and yet, all too human in his predicament.

Shizune had lifted the Pet Mark and prepared the document for the Kazekage to sign. He would pick it up from her at some point, when she was feeling better. Seeing her like that…he regretted having troubled her at such a time. He now knew the grief of losing someone precious to him, but it must be so much worse when it was your partner.

He pushed that thought out of his mind. He would never get to sleep if he led his mind go down that pathway. He would focus instead on coming up with a strategy to defeat Akatsuki.

###

Neji had not been able to sleep, but he felt better in the morning. In a strange way, he had almost welcomed the pain. He deserved that, he thought, for his betrayal of Shikamaru.

His forehead still ached, but not to the point that it pushed all else from his mind. He pulled himself up from the futon and walked slowly to the bathroom. His face looked strange without the Pet Mark.

Wonderingly, he touched his fingers to his forehead. He was a completely free man now, all traces of his former life as a Pet wiped away.

He felt a lightness, a fierce exhilaration, as if a too-tight headband had been removed. He was restored to who he had been. He might still be a caged bird in some senses, but he was no longer a slave.

And then, almost immediately, a sudden desolate grief assailed him, and he almost wanted to smash his hand through the mirror and grab back the Pet Mark, with all the pain and humiliation and darkness it contained, grab it back and hold on, because it was his one last tie to Shikamaru.

He would not be able, ever again, to feel what Shikamaru was going through. He would never know if Shikamaru was happy or sad, alive or dead. He would not know if the Akatsuki had succeeded in invading Suna, or if they had been driven out.

The part of his life that had been entwined with Shikamaru was over, gone forever. He felt a raw emptiness, as if someone had taken a rusty sword and scraped out part of his insides.

He closed his eyes for a minute, just a minute, a long minute, to breathe.

And then he raised his head, stiffened his spine, and went out to get on with the rest of his life.

###

Shikamaru had done what he said he would; he had kept his promise to Neji. He could feel good about that. But it was hard to feel good about anything right now. Mostly, he felt heavy, sad, and lost.

Everyone did, it seemed. There was no goofing around during training, hardly any talking even. A dark edge of determination ran under everything they did. The war was not just threatening anymore; it was here.

Shikamaru's thoughts churned. Over and above his own selfish personal reasons for going to the North, it truly might be their best hope. There were powerful villages in the North, Konoha among them. If they would ally with the South, surely their combined forces could bring down Akatsuki.

He would need others to join with his plan. He was under no illusions that the Kazekage would send him alone on a mission to the North.

"Has anyone seen Naruto?" Sakura was saying. "He hasn't been to training since…" Her voice trailed off as she realized.

Naruto, Shikamaru thought. Naruto had a way of talking to people that could make them see the good side of things. And he was skilled, and had a crazy amount of stamina.

"I'll go find him," he said.

There was no answer when he knocked at Naruto's door, and he thought for a troublesome moment that his friend must be out. But after several minutes, Naruto opened the door. He was barefoot, dressed in an old t-shirt and pants, his hair uncombed, his usually bright blue eyes dull.

"Oh…Shikamaru, huh. What's going on?"

"Well, first of all," Shikamaru said, looking at his unkempt friend in concern, "can I come in?"

In Naruto's apartment, Naruto sat on his bed and Shikamaru took the one chair. Leaning forward, he started to describe his idea for the mission, but halfway through, he could see that Naruto wasn't really listening. His eyes were far away as he stared dully into space.

"Naruto!"

Naruto started, looking at him wide-eyed.

Shikamaru decided that what was needed was a change of scenery. "Okay, get up, you're coming with me."

Naruto followed him without much protest through the streets of Suna, to the steps of the outpatient clinic. A short while later, a very pregnant young woman emerged from the building.

"Huh?" Naruto said. "That's Asuma-sensei's wife!" As she waved and approached, he blurted out, "Were you sick from eating too much barbecue? Your stomach's bigger than Chouji's!"

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "She's pregnant, not fat." He bowed to her. "We'll walk you home."

"Shikamaru…you don't have to do that. I can manage. You've done plenty already…"

"No. I made a promise to Asuma-sensei."

"Shikamaru…" Naruto said, after they had walked her home, "what did Asuma ask you to do?"

"He entrusted that to me, to be there for her and for the baby." Remembering Asuma's face, his last words, he closed his eyes for a second. "Look, believe me, I know how you're feeling. How much it hurts to lose your teacher."

Naruto nodded.

"But we can't just sit and grieve, with Akatsuki out there attacking. With our teachers gone, we've got to be the ones to step up and fight. Someday, we'll be the ones leading the missions. And little kids like that baby will be the ones looking to us. You'll be Naruto-sensei, or whatever." Naruto smiled a little at that. Shikamaru took a deep breath. "I have a plan."

"You always have a plan," Naruto said, but he was listening.

###

"Okay," Neji said. "No one is listening."

He and Hinata had come to the stables, their preferred place now to talk without being overheard by anyone. No one else came to the stables except the stable boys and girls; certainly not Hiashi, Hanabi, or any of the clan elders.

Hinata's eyes, as perceptive as Neji's own, searched his face. "Nii-san…are you sure you really want to do this?"

He wasn't sure of anything about his own life. But about hers, he was sure. Hinata deserved to be, if not the head of the clan, at least an equal partner in it.

The little cat that slept in the stables mewed at them, and Hinata produced some dried fish scraps she had brought. She had befriended the animal, and now, in addition to bringing apples for the horses, she always brought a few little treats for the cat as well, and spent some time petting it.

"Are you sure?" he asked her now. "Your father was really angry about this."

Angry didn't really encompass the full range of Hiashi's reaction. His uncle had looked as outraged, horrified, and incredulous as if he had found a large octopus coiled in his bed.

"You are practically brother and sister!"

Hinata had quailed at first, looking like she wanted to run out of the room, but then faced her father, looking shakily determined. She reached for Neji's hand, possibly to show that they were serious, or more likely for strength. Neji tried to act natural about that, although it felt completely bizarre. He and Hinata rarely ever touched each other. They were just not a clan that did that.

"Please don't tell me," Hiashi said, nearly choking on the words, "that you are in love, or any despicable nonsense like that!"

"No," Neji said plainly. "We are sure that this will be the best thing for the clan."

"The best – No! Absolutely not." Hiashi turned and paced the room, shaking his head, then shot them a glare. "Are you planning to have children?"

Neji felt Hinata's hand flinch in his own. "That's our business," he said coldly.

"Indeed. And if you have no children, is that the best thing for the clan? If you do have children, you know there could be – problems, since you are so closely related. Is that the best thing for the clan?"

Neji had been trying to control his temper, but now it snapped. "And if you pass us both by in favor of Hanabi, is that the best thing for the clan?"

"That is my business!"

A tense silence ensued. Hinata's head was down; Neji could see her fighting back tears. Hiashi appeared to soften somewhat at the sight. He sighed heavily, running his hands over his face.

"Look," he said finally, "if you wish to marry someone from the clan, that's fine. There are plenty of –"

Hinata raised her head. "I do not wish to marry someone from the clan," she said clearly. "I wish to marry Neji."

"No. No. That is out of the question. I do not give my permission."

"We don't need your permission," Neji said. "I am of age; Hinata-sama will be of age in two months. As adults, we can do what we choose."

Hiashi looked poleaxed by these words. "Are you saying you would just – run off and do it? The clan will never sanction that. Remember who you are, Hinata – you are a daughter of the Main House."

His words brought back all the humiliation and rage Neji had felt a year ago, being told that no matter how hard he worked, no matter how many skills he mastered in secret or how many tournaments he won, he would never be good enough. He and his uncle stared at each other in fury, both breathing hard. Neji had all his muscles tensed; if Hiashi raised a hand, he was ready, so ready, for that fight.

Hinata stepped forward, placing her body between them. "Father, please." Her voice trembled, but she took a breath and went on. "We are g-going to do this. B-but we would like your blessing and that of the clan."

Hiashi's shoulders slumped. A long time seemed to pass before he answered. "I don't approve," he said heavily. "I will never approve. But I will bring the matter before the clan elders."

That had been four days ago, and they had just gotten their answer: for the clan to give their approval, Neji would have to pass a test. There was no similar stipulation for Hinata, whether because of her sex, or her status as the Main House heir, they didn't know. The test would be tomorrow, in the morning.

"What kind of test do you think it is?" Hinata wondered, looking worried.

Neji shrugged it off. If it was something about the history of the clan, he knew it well. If it was swords, or hand to hand combat, he was certain he could defeat anyone they threw at him.

"I will not try to kill anyone," he promised her.

"Perhaps they want to see how you can use your father's sword."

That thought excited and intrigued Neji, but he played it down. "Perhaps they want to see how long I can listen to Hidoi ramble on without falling asleep."

###

Iruka had sent word through Kakashi that Shikamaru could come pick up his paperwork at the Kazekage's office. He did not expect to actually get in to see the Kazekage – and indeed, after the terrible sight of her weeping, he half-hoped he wouldn't. But he intended to plead his case for the mission with Iruka.

When he arrived, however, the door to the Kazekage's office was open, and Iruka ushered him in.

"Shikamaru." The Kazekage regarded him wearily for a long minute. "I know that you went to a lot of trouble to break the Northern prisoner out and get that letter of treaty to Sarutobi-sama."

Shikamaru opened his mouth to speak, but she waved it off. "I don't need to hear denials or details. I appreciate all that you have done, let me leave it at that."

Shikamaru made a small bow. Was that it? Or was it possible that there might be a mission after all?

"I think," Tsunade went on, "that I should explain to you more fully, why this cannot be done."

Shikamaru felt his heart sink, but he stayed quiet.

"Sarutobi has offered to meet me halfway between the two countries, but I cannot leave Suna now, with the situation so unstable. And he is an old man. It would be an offense to ask him to travel all that way just to meet with one of my lieutenants. If Jiraiya were alive –" Her voice broke and she sighed heavily and leaned her forehead against her folded hands. Shikamaru and Iruka regarded her with alarm.

After a moment she spoke again, more in control. "If Jiraiya were alive, he could go in my place. One of the great Sannin, that would be honorable enough. But as it is…"

Yes, Shikamaru thought, Jiraiya would have been the perfect person to go. He was well-traveled, he was wise, he was persuasive, and he had met Sarutobi in the past and reportedly gotten along well with him.

The Kazekage sighed again. "Killer Bee from the Lightning Village had offered to travel with me. But it would look strange if I just sent him on his own."

"Surely the North Country would understand that you are in mourning," Shikamaru ventured.

Tsunade just shook her head.

"What if we don't ask Sarutobi to come halfway, and just send a team with Killer Bee all the way to Konoha?" Shikamaru said. "I would go," he added hastily.

"You do not have the skills or authority to negotiate a treaty."

"Killer Bee does. And Naruto says he would go."

Tsunade shot him a sharp look at that. Shikamaru backtracked hastily.

"Uh…I meant hypothetically…if there ever was such a mission. People listen to Naruto."

"It's not a matter of simply being persuasive," Iruka put in. "For a treaty of this magnitude, and given the history between our two lands, you would need to know the full extent of that history, you would need to know the North Country and all its players well, you would need to know…." He frowned, and rubbed his nose. "A great deal more than you do."

Shikamaru knew what that frown meant. He and Naruto had never been good students, had barely squeaked by in the history and geography classes. Neji would know those things. But he didn't dare say that. "We could study it," he tried desperately. "We could learn. I'm a fast learner; I'll work day and night." Shikamaru appealed to Tsunade. "Please, Kazekage-sama! We need this treaty, now more than ever. It's the only way to defeat Akatsuki."

"I'm not denying anyone's willingness, or anyone's skills," Tsunade snapped, sounding impatient. "But for Suna to only send…" Shikamaru could read her thoughts. You are nothing, a minion, not even a jonin. It would be a slap in the face to Konoha, worse than if we sent nobody at all.

###

Neji had been told to come to the indoor arena, a room used for martial arts and sword battles, with a fighting space surrounded by rows of seats for spectators. "Of course," he said coolly, but inwardly he was exultant. He had hoped for a combat test, rather than a panel of boring questions from the elders. Maybe Hinata was right, and he would get a chance to show them his swordwork.

When he arrived at the room at the appointed time, however, he was very surprised. The elders were indeed all seated there, waiting for the test. But instead of the mats and gear for a bout being laid out, the floor was covered with small painted square tiles.

Neji looked questioningly at the two chuunins who had escorted him in. Up in the stands, Hidoi leaned forward.

"Greetings, Hyuuga Neji. On the floor there are two hundred tiles, hand painted by Konoha's finest artisans. Each one is unique."

Neji stared at him in bafflement. Was he supposed to be making decorating choices for the house he and Hinata would reside in? He had less than zero interest in any of that.

"One of these tiles has been selected by the lady Hinata, and one has been selected by her father, Hiashi-san, on her behalf. You must pick out the correct tiles. You will have one half hour."

Neji blinked. He could see Hinata sitting up at the top of the stands, pressing her fingertips together as she did when she was nervous. Hiashi sat a few rows below, his expression grim, as it almost always was these days.

"You may have one advisor to assist you, anyone but Hinata or anyone from her family."

Neji looked over the expanse of tiles, trying to think of who he might pick as an advisor. One of the servants? He had no idea if there was one Hinata was close to. Her teammates? No, they despised him and one of them had feelings for Hinata himself. They would only want to see him fail.

He wished, so much, that he could have Shikamaru as his advisor. He could picture Shikamaru so clearly in his mind, sitting sleepily on his bed – Shikamaru would never get up this early – his little cat curled up next to him. Shikamaru smiling at him in that way that he never would again.

He shook his head to clear it. He could not spend time dwelling on the past. But the image of Shikamaru persisted. In Neji's mental image, Shikamaru was no longer sleepy, no longer smiling. He was looking at Neji in that particular keen way he had when he wanted Neji to understand something.

And suddenly, Neji did. Maybe it was crazy; maybe it was completely off base. But he knew who he would ask for to help him.

"I choose Hinata-sama's cat to help me," he said. There was considerable surprise and perplexity at this, with some of them shaking their heads. He could see surreptitious whispers here and there; some of them no doubt thought that his time in the South Country had completely scrambled his brains.

"My daughter does not have a pet cat," his uncle said. He sounded affronted and somewhat alarmed, as if he too feared Neji had lost his mind.

"Hinata-sama is kindhearted. She has befriended a little cat in the stables," Neji said clearly. "I would like that cat to help me."

"In the stables?" Hiashi said, sounding appalled. He turned to glare at his daughter, but for once she did not seem flustered. She was looking at Neji with her eyes wide.

Hiashi seemed about to say something, but then instead leaned over to confer with the elders, some of whom looked disgusted, and some of whom were laughing. Neji was not close enough to hear what they were saying, but after a moment his uncle straightened up and said abruptly, "The request is allowed. Someone go fetch the cat."

One of the servants bowed to Hinata, saying in a quiet voice, "Please describe the cat."

"Oh! It is a small black and white cat, usually sleeping near the doorway."

Neji understood. They viewed his request as completely absurd, and were accepting it because they believed he would fail. Had he been in the stands, he would have thought the same. As it was, he knew he stood to look like an utter idiot if this ridiculous gamble failed. He almost wanted to take back the words, say he had been joking – although Hyuugas did not joke – and make a more conventional choice.

What stopped him was the thought – however lunatic it might be – that this had come from Shikamaru. That tie, that thin ephemeral connection, was still there. He might never see Shikamaru again, but he had not lost him completely.

While they waited for the cat to be brought in, Neji strolled through the rows of tiles, looking at them intently. There were many beautiful ones he imagined Hinata would like – chrysanthemums painted in delicate tones of coral and white; a lacy fan design; a spray of pink cherry blossoms. Which would she choose? He felt totally at sea.

As he walked, seemingly focused on the tiles, he kept a corner of his eye on Hiashi. He would have liked to watch Hinata too, but she was too high up in the stands. Doubtless she had been deliberately placed there so he would not be able to catch her eye.

After several minutes, the servant returned bearing a basket, with the cat inside. A couple of scratches on his arm were bleeding; evidently the cat had not taken kindly to being awakened. Neji mentally agreed with it.

The servant set the cat down on the floor, where it commenced washing itself, ignoring the crowd and licking its fur with vigor. A small ripple of laughter went through the stands. Neji could feel the minutes ticking away. He wondered if he should call to it, the way Hinata did. But the thought of how foolish he would look in front of the clan elders stopped him. Instead, he bent down and rapped on a tile with his knuckles. The cat stopped washing and raised its head. After a moment, it began walking about here and there through the tiles, sniffing each one. Neji felt his heart beating more quickly. He hoped the cat would not lose interest in the tiles and settle into a sunny spot to sleep. But the cat seemed curious about these strange objects.

Suddenly it stopped at one tile, sniffing it more thoroughly than the others. It gave a few tentative licks, then rubbed its face against the tile. In astonishment, Neji realized that his crazy idea had paid off. This was the one! The cat had smelled its beloved Hinata on the tile.

He looked at the tile in shock, still hardly daring to believe it. It was a little more striking than several of the other, more conventionally pretty ones. It featured a black butterfly on a branch, drawn in graceful yet bold lines. One wing was completely in shadow, while the other was in sunlight, the iridescent sheen reflecting back a multitude of colors.

That was her, he thought. Not simply some passive blossom waiting to be picked. She was strong. She was complex. She was more than what she appeared to be. This was the side of her he knew, the qualities that would make her a good leader.

He lifted the tile. "This was the one chosen by Hinata," he said clearly. There were surprised murmurs all around, but it was Hinata who had his attention. She was nodding her head, small tears in her eyes. He had chosen correctly.

Neji allowed himself to breathe easier for a second and feel a small burst of triumph. It had worked! Only for a second, however, because now came the harder portion of the test – picking the one chosen by his uncle for Hinata. This time he would get no help from the cat. He doubted it had ever even encountered Hiashi, who disliked animals and never visited the stables unless it was absolutely necessary.

He looked over the tiles. The one he selected must not be simply what he believed Hiashi would like, but what Hiashi thought his daughter would like. Probably one of the pretty ones, Neji thought. But which one? How did Hiashi see his daughter?

Certainly he saw her as shy and gentle, which she was. But also, Hiashi viewed her as weak and ineffectual, which she decidedly was not.

At that, Neji had a flash of inspiration. His uncle definitely did not want him to succeed at this task. Therefore, Hiashi would pick not the tile which he felt best represented his daughter, but its complete opposite.

He cast his mind back to when he had been walking through the tiles and covertly observing Hiashi as well. His uncle had tensed minutely when he approached one particular section. He walked back to that spot and studied the tiles there. One had red maple leaves, one a blue repeating pattern of waves, and one was a fearsome black dragon, with sharp fangs and hot, angry eyes. Experimentally, he lifted the one with the waves, and through his lashes, saw Hiashi relax a fraction. He set it down and lifted the black dragon tile.

"This is the one," he said.

Hiashi looked stunned. And a little unnerved. "You are…correct," he said.

Neji laid the dragon tile back down. He picked up the black butterfly tile and walked up to the stands. Hinata was coming down to him and he held out the tile to her.

The plan they had set in motion was actually happening.

###

Two weeks had passed since Jiraiya's death. When Shikamaru was again summoned to the Kazekage's office, there were no jokes or smiles about what it might mean. Shikamaru collected his gear in silence and hoped for a mission where he could take out an Akatsuki.

The Kazekage looked better this time. Her desk was covered in papers and some of the light had come back into her eyes.

"I have been thinking more," she said without preamble, "about this letter of treaty. I think that you are right. This may be our only hope."

Shikamaru groped for words. He had not expected this. Indeed, he had not even expected to have the chance to argue his case, though he had arguments ready. He had been planning how best to get the message through. But now – "Tsunade-sama…is this…I mean, are you going to Konoha?"

"No," a flat, cool voice said from the doorway. "I am going." Shikamaru turned and looked into the dispassionate, sea-green eyes of Gaara.

Of course. It made sense. Gaara was not yet of age, and not even a jonin yet. But his skills were certainly jonin-level, and he would become the Kazekage next year, on his birthday.

"We are putting together a team to go," Tsunade said, "co-led by Gaara and Killer Bee."

Her next words were some of the sweetest he had ever heard.

"You can be on it."

The plan he had set in motion was actually happening.

"Let's do it," Shikamaru said.

###

A.N. Well, there you are…the penultimate chapter! Please let me know what you thought!