I blame the New Year...and the wine that came with it.

For Auld Lang Syne

Tenten's shift ended late, and she dragged herself into her apartment just as others were beginning to go out for the evening.

New Year's Eve was in full swing.

Tenten locked her apartment and hung her keys on the peg by the wall where it was joined by her coat, earmuffs, hat, scarf, gloves, boots, and heavy hoodie.

It was frigid outside – the wind was bitter, and sharper than any tool in her arsenal. Her phone had been buzzing merrily all evening with notification after notification of friends updating statuses and posting pictures and sending texts and wishing the world a Happy New Year.

She couldn't be more removed from their reality.

Not since he left.

She understood, really – he had always said he would take his place in his family's company – that he would be moving up in his world. The mistake had been hers; she'd grossly underestimated how far that world was removed from her own. Their time together became less and less, and their disagreements – once non-existent – were becoming commonplace.

She supposed she was grateful they never got around to actually moving in together. He had left the country after one of their fights, and was going to be gone for months. With no reconciliation in sight, she'd lived in a miserable limbo, never so unsure of where she stood in her life. When the offer came to move to the big city and start over – what was there to keep her from accepting?

Nothing.

The same thing that filled her days and her heart and her dreams. She worked and excelled, and had the chance of making friends, but largely kept to herself. She kept in touch with Lee, if only to keep him from breaking down her door if she didn't reply to his messages after a few days, but she rarely spoke with anyone back home. She'd never been a convincing liar, and knew they'd hear the raw hurt in her voice. People here were fooled; they'd never seen her happy. They took her subdued cheerfulness as a confident contentment, and she concealed her wounds with a slight of hand no one had been clever enough to catch.

There had only ever been one pair of eyes that saw through her illusions – and she had run half-way around the world to escape them.

Her phone rang, distracting her from her wandering thoughts.

"Hey," she answered, sandwiching the phone between her ear and shoulder as she perused the contents of her refrigerator.

"Hey yourself," a smug voice chuckled. "Is that anyway to greet your favorite cousin?"

"You're my only cousin, Shisui," she sighed, reaching for the electrolyte drink she'd stashed away after her morning workout.

"I think the others would be offended to hear that," he admonished playfully.

"Technically we aren't related," She shrugged. "Our moms were cousins – your dads are cousins."

"Family is family, Tenten. And as your family, I am concerned about your current whereabouts."

"Then check the location on my phone," she rolled her eyes bumping the refrigerator door closed with her hip. "I'm home, and planning on being in my pajamas as soon as I can manage it."

"On New Year's?" she heard him frown. "Really?"

"It was a long day," she sighed. "I already got my workout in, I showered, and I am tired. What makes tonight any different than any other night?"

"Well, I'm at your door, for one."

"Tell me you are kidding."

Her doorbell rang.

"Nope."

Tenten hung up and sighed as she pressed the phone to her forehead and muttered: "Why me?"

Tucking the phone in her pocket, she opened the door to find her older cousin leaning in her door frame, holding his phone up for her to see.

"I forgive you for hanging up on me," he said loftily, "but only because I am feeling rather magnanimous."

"Lucky me," Tenten stepped back, letting him in the apartment before locking the door behind him.

"Deadbolts, Tenten?" he asked, as if hurt. "We work for the most advanced security company in this hemisphere and you are using deadbolts?"

"They work," she said flatly, taking some of his load from him. "C'mon in," she padded back into the apartment.

"Why thank you, I am well," he called after her as he removed his boots and coat, and set a satchel down that clinked suspiciously. "And yes, I did manage to fight the crowds to procure and deliver your favorite treat and then trek across town to spend the evening with you. You're welcome."

"It's like I can hear the italics," she put the bag on the counter and began to pull out the food. "You talk like you email."

"It's a gift," he shrugged. "You ran this morning, right? How was it?"

"Not bad," she shrugged. "The park was pretty empty. Must've hit the gym at a good time – it was pretty empty, too."

"Maybe because the resolution crowd is busy racking up regrets before they turn over a new leaf. Speaking of," he helped her sort through the food. "Why aren't you out reveling?"

"Do I look like I need any more regrets?" she muttered and they both pretended they didn't wince.

"Well I'm here to make sure you start the year off right," Shisui announced. "I brought your dumplings, and your electrolytes, and I already have a reservation for breakfast for tomorrow, and this," he handed her a bag.

"What's this?" she automatically took the bag, even as he began to plate their food. She frowned as she pulled out a shoe box. Shisui remained silent as she opened the lid and a pair of state-of-the-art, stupidly expensive running shoes stared back at her. She quietly removed them from the crisp tissue paper and held them up for inspection. "Whoa," she breathed.

"Custom made," he added, pulling out her chopsticks. "They are the best thing in the world for running. And you'll need those lined bottoms," he motioned to the garments she was unfolding. "It's cold as fuck tonight, and even at our best time, the run will take a minute."

"Run?" she blinked, head cocked to the side. "What run?"

"Midnight," Shisui speared a dumping with his chopsticks. "You. Me. New shoes. Fucking freezing ass weather."

"Oh," her eyes lit up. "That run."

"Eat up," Shisui pushed the dumplings toward her, while glancing at the clock. "This should be light enough that we won't puke it up on our run, but heavy enough we don't have to attack other runners for food."

"Deal," Tenten speared her own dumpling with a smile that made Shisui's heart warm, because it was Tenten's smile. He'd sent her to her room at 11:20, demanding she change, since they'd have to head out soonish to be in the park by midnight. She emerged with her cold-weather running gear, her hair wrapped in her twin buns, her earwarmers around her neck.

"What are you watching?"

"Thought it would be fun to see the crowd at the Ball Drop," he motioned to the television, and the cameras panning around the skyscrapers and crowds.

"You couldn't pay me to be there," she snorted. "Way too many people."

"Agreed," Shisui fished something out of his pocket. "Here. We need this."

"A security badge?" she blinked at it, taking the lanyard.

"There are checkpoints in the park," Shisui sighed. "Luckily locals and fellow security workers get preferential treatment."

"So you know a guy," she grinned.

"Yeah," he chuckled as he turned back to the TV. "Hey," he leaned forward with a frown. "Speaking of knowing a guy... doesn't that one look familiar?"

"Which one?" she asked, fiddling with the zip on her jacket and tugging it over her narrow hips.

"Welcome back," the blonde host bubbled, standing in front of the barricades of the crowds, preparing to interview the intrepid souls that had staked out their place and secured it at the front of the rows. "Let's interview a few more of our visitors. Where are you visiting us from?"

"Konoha!" A voice chirped merrily, followed by one that sniffled, one that was brash, one that was sly, and one…

One that caught Tenten's attention immediately and made her heart stutter to a stop.

Even so, she couldn't tear her eyes from her zipper pull.

"Konoha," the host said, a hand to her heart. "That is quite a way to travel! What brings you here?"

There was an interminable fluttering of her heart before that voice continued. "I came to see about a girl."

"A girl!" the host cooed. "Does she know you are here?"

"Not yet," she imagined the half smile on lips that so rarely quirked into a full smile – only on those rare times they were together and…

"Not yet," the host repeated. "But you want her to know you are here?"

"Here and waiting," he added, and even if she wanted to, Tenten couldn't have kept her eyes averted any longer. They snapped to the television where she her heart wrenched to see oh-so-familiar eyes staring back at her.

"I see," the host grinned slyly. "And do you have a message for this special person?"

"I was wrong," he said, unblinking. "And I'll do whatever it takes to find her and tell her as much, and make it right."

A strangled sound escaped Tenten – wrenched from her gut – to hang in the air of the apartment even as she pressed her hands to her mouth and tears slipped down her cheeks unchecked.

"Even come all the way from Konoha," the woman breathed.

The man gave a wry smile. "I was really wrong."

"Well, then," she gave him a knowing smile. "Then I guess I wish you good luck."

The cameras cut to another host and another interview, and Tenten stayed rooted to the spot.

The sound of turning locks snapped her back to a reality she wasn't sure was real.

"Looks like they were at West 44th," Shisui stood at the door. "So…?"

Tenten looked at her cousin, eyes wide, heart pounding. But when he raised his eyebrows at her, she could only nod, dumbly, and follow.

Later, she wouldn't be able to recall the run as more than a blur of cold and people and air burning in her lungs while her heart leapt in anticipation. As they neared the blocked off streets, Shisui got ahead of her by a few paces and flashed his badge. Security nodded, and muttered into their earpieces, and Tenten met with no resistance as she negotiated the crowds, her heart in her throat.

It thrummed one name – one thought with every beat, every footfall, every breath – driving all else out of her mind and being. And when she finally got close enough that he was standing there, it fell from her lips.

"Neji."

He turned sharply, and she saw the anxiety and doubt and fear in the lines of his body and creases of his mouth. She stood, chest heaving, until he realized it wasn't a trick. He took a steadying breath and ventured:

"Tenten…?"

And there was a universe in that ellipse – a lifetime crammed into the small space of a question. A lifetime he'd walked away from, and so desperately wanted back.

She stood in that vast expanse, unsure, lost, and ready to run the other direction and never look back if he turned away from her now.

But he didn't.

His eyes were locked onto hers like she was the most precious thing in the entire world – like she hadn't just run at a relentless pace across city and park and crowd and cold to stand before him as open and honestly as she always had.

She couldn't – and didn't – move.

And he did the one thing she didn't anticipate.

"Please," his voice was low and raw and thick with fears unspoken. "Please don't go. Stay. For as long as you wish, and without obligation, but please…." He was a hairsbreadth away from her now. "Please, stay."

There were more miles crammed into that centimeter between them than the distance between Konoha and the Big City, and she wondered if she could traverse such a distance before he disappeared at the stroke of midnight.

And it was almost midnight.

The crowd was counting down the last minute of the year as she stood separated by the unfathomable chasm between them.

"Tenten," his voice was low, and pleading. "Please… say something."

She blinked up at him, wondering what the right words were.

"You're an ass."

To his credit, he barely flinched.

"How can I stay?" the tears prickled at her throat. "I didn't leave – I was left behind. I came here," she motioned to the chanting crowd and the fast-disappearing seconds of the year, "because there was nothing left for me in Konoha."

She shook her head.

"Asking me to stay… is asking me to stay here. To stay away from you." She pinned him with an unflinching gaze, even as her stomach twisted into knots. "Is that what you want?"

"Wherever you want to be," he clenched his hands at his side. "That is where I want to be. I don't care where it is – as long as you are there."

"Until when, Neji," she gave a helpless sigh. "The next board meeting?"

"I quit the board," he bit out. "I'll leave it all behind if it means being with you. Living with you. Loving you..." he took a breath and steadied himself. "It was so easy to love you," he exhaled. "You made it so easy and I? I took it for granted. But when I returned to Konoha and you were gone – when you changed your number and no one would tell me where you went –" words failed him as he shook his head. "I've never felt so lost in my life."

She barked out what might have been a laugh or it might have been a sob.

"All I want," he dared to reach for her hands, "is to come home. And home is wherever you are. I won't ask you to come back to me," he wound their fingers together, "just that you let me come to you."

The last fractions of the old year were suspended between them, and Tenten blinked as the world slowed until it was only the two of them. With a gasp and a sob, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tightly against her, murmuring into his ear.

"Welcome home, Neji."

And as the clock struck midnight, her lips were on his – or perhaps his were on hers – and the new year started with a fresh and tenuous hope, and Neji and Tenten were as inseparable as they'd ever been.

Neji spotted the reporter first, and grabbed Tenten's hand. With a knowing smile, she grabbed his back, and they disappeared into the crowd, ignoring the applause and the catcalls and the cheers knowing they were nothing compared to the fireworks waiting for them back home.

And when they woke the next morning, tangled in the sheets and one another, the future had never looked brighter.

"Happy New Year, Neji," she murmured against his skin.

He drew her against himself and kissed the top of her head.

"Happy New Year, Tenten."

Happy New Year, friends! Wishing you nothing but the very best 2018 has to offer!

- Giada