I'd just crawled into bed— after bidding Neji goodnight with a long kiss— when a sound had me clutching at my blankets in shock.

Bo-dum, bo-dum bo-dum, bo-dum, bo-dum bo-dum. . .

"I know I'm within range, Keiden," he hissed, his slippery whisper a few hundred meters west of the Compound. "I'll be blunt with you: I'm coming. Tomorrow."

Tomorrow. The wedding.

A strangled gasp escaped my lips.

"Don't worry," he murmured, his voice snaking unpleasantly under my skin. "As long as you come quietly, everyone else will be safe."

That was it, then. He only wanted me.

If I kept my mouth shut, nobody else would get hurt. As terrified as I was about the prospect of leaving with this man— Sakura had mentioned his formidable skills more than once when I'd helped her at the hospital— the fear that he'd harm my family promptly overshadowed it.

I didn't need any more time to think about it.

"I shall see you tomorrow," he purred. "Your power has captured my attention— and I can't wait to discover just how strong you truly are. . ."

With that, Kabuto vanished.

I collapsed onto my mattress, shaking uncontrollably with contrasting shades of relief.

Neji. . . I'm so sorry. . .

After a fitful episode of tangling myself in my blanket, I gave up on sleep and pushed myself off my bed. A steaming cup of tea sounded like the most magnificent thing in the world right now, so, without further ado, I padded down the hall to where I figured the community kitchen was— the faint smell of burnt-on. . . something that was branded into my memory had made it easy.

However, a lub-dub was already at the stove.

"Good evening, Lord Hyuga," I whispered.

"Keiden," he acknowledged politely. He still seemed rather uncomfortable around me, and I couldn't really hold it against him; I'd had the audacity to tell him off, after all. "Why are you still awake at this hour?"

Too proud to reveal to him that I had no idea what time it was, I just laughed. "I could ask you the same thing, my lord."

"Tea?" Hiashi offered. "Maybe then, we can talk."

"I'd love some," I said, touched by his thoughtfulness. Settling myself into the nearest chair, I accepted the proffered cup from him and cradled the scalding porcelain amongst grateful fingers.

"Couldn't sleep?" he guessed. "Then again, it comes as no surprise that you're nervous."

I smiled to hide the fact that I could only play along. "Maybe this tea will warm my feet up."

Hiashi chuckled. "The more I think about it, the more you remind me of Neji's mother."

"Oh?" I breathed, struggling to keep my already wild emotions in line. Neji had never told me about his mother— not that I'd ever asked about her. When I'd first entered the Hyuga Compound, it hadn't taken me long to realize there wasn't a mother— or a father— in the picture. "How so?"

"She was very aggressive, especially when she wanted to get her point across. In the earlier days that my brother had known her, they'd spend hours arguing," he answered, a hint of fondness in his tone. "Of course, she'd always win."

"That does sound like me." I grinned.

"And she made Hizashi so happy. It's a pity Neji was never able to meet her."

It was a moment before I could speak again. "Oh," I said softly.

"Her pregnancy had been difficult," Hiashi noted sadly. "But she was brave until the very end."

My cup shook in my hands, and I prayed the Hyuga wouldn't notice. The dread that came from my decision bubbled through my veins, stinging my heart with each little pulse.

Until the very end. . .

"Keiden?" Hiashi said. "Are you all right?"

Frantic, I checked myself for whatever had betrayed me— and discovered a single tear running down my cheek.

"It wasn't my intention to upset you—"

"I'm fine," I said, arranging my features in what I hoped to be a smile. "I should probably try going to sleep again." I stood up, trying not to knock over the chair in my haste to get away.

"Wait," Hiashi told me. "I sensed something was wrong the moment you entered the room. I may not be of much help, but you can tell me what's troubling you."

I winced inwardly at the genuine concern in his voice. What I wouldn't give to tell someone— no. Letting Hiashi know would put him at risk. His innocence was the only thing that would save him.

"That's very kind of you," I finally answered, the last word cracking. "But I can assure you that I'm okay— I just don't like anticipating big events."

". . . if you're sure," he replied warily.

"I am," I sighed. Using boldness to grind my terror into the ground, I felt around the air until my fingertips found the material at Hiashi's right shoulder. It had been simple enough to press my lips to the top of his head after that. "Good night, my lord."

His pulse stuttered, as if unsure about what I'd just done.

Before I let him say anything, I shuffled hurriedly back to my room, shutting the door and throwing myself onto my bed once more, my chest heaving with unshed sobs.