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disclaimer: i own nothing. title is from jan richardson's poem, blessing in the chaos.
notes: never thought i'd be back here. unfortunately not with updates for the other stories, but this is an offering for those who are still here for ino, i suppose.
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Neji dreams of Iraq.
He hates everything about that shithole — the sand, the heat, the local leaders that are as bad (if not worse) than the insurgents wreaking havoc everywhere. He hates how the civilians suffered, trapped in the middle of ugly political intentions and still trying to scrape by with what little they have left. The entire country is a ticking time bomb and even though he'd somehow managed to come off tour in one piece, some aren't as lucky.
He thinks about the enemies he'd taken out too late, after too much damage.
Neji dreams of Iraq and wakes up angry, mostly.
There's an alarm going off somewhere inside his apartment. Neji blinks at the ceiling, enduring the persistent beeps for several minutes, before he untangles himself from the blanket and drops his feet onto the cold floor. Stretching makes him marginally more awake, chases away the last dredges of a nightmare swathed in blood-drenched sand. He pads into the kitchen, finds his phone on the counter and jabs at it to mute the alarm.
A number of text messages sit in his inbox and he scrolls through them as he works the coffee machine. He stares at the ones from Hinata, feels that familiar clench in his stomach when he thinks about the last time he saw her. Gai's left him a few, something about briefings and a favour from Spec Ops.
"They want you there at thirteen hundred," is the first thing Neji hears when he calls his supervisor. He almost hangs up. "Don't be late."
"I'm on medical leave," Neji deadpans, even though that's a lie and they both know it. He pours coffee into a mug, the tips of his fingers tingling at the heat while the rest of his body is still cold. "Tell someone else to go."
Gai barks out a string of laughter. Neji imagines the glittering whiteness of his teeth. "Get off your ass right now or you'll be late."
The line goes dead. Neji stares balefully at the far wall.
He dumps the coffee into the sink.
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The secretary is a pretty little thing in sedate blue and she smiles at him coyly once he introduces himself, despite the expensively-cut diamond ring on her finger. He keeps his eyes averted, looks out of the window to distract from her unwanted scrutiny. The attention makes his skin crawl and he wishes that he's back in his apartment, avoiding the world in general. It's too much time wasted until she gives him the go-ahead and Neji knows he's going to be involved in something highly-classified when he sees the number of uniforms inside the opulent office he'd just stepped into. He stands at attention and the door closes upon his entrance, made to wait as the higher-ranked officers talk shop to each other.
Thirty minutes later, they finally acknowledge his existence and gesture him closer.
In two hours, Neji's already sitting in the nearest airport, calling Tenten just because someone needs to know where he's going. Just in case he doesn't make it back.
"Treat it like a vacation," Tenten says. Neji can hear Gai laughing in the background, another voice that's unmistakably Lee clamouring over something about souvenirs. Not for the first time, he thinks some desk monkey somewhere must've gotten a kick when they assigned him to Gai's team. "Gotta go. Don't die out there."
It's the least reassuring thing he'd heard since Kiba tried to convince him he can't get herpes from a blowjob.
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Neji sleeps right until the airplane hits the tarmac of the Ferenc Liszt International Airport.
He dreams of being riddled with bullets, bleeding out under the desert sun, and jerks awake to see the worried face of the flight attendant hovering over him.
It's a good thing he stops himself in time or she would've lost an eye. Or two.
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Customs takes a while as they process his papers and ask him questions about the rifle sitting in its locked hard case. His cover is an invitational shooting competition, arranged by a friend of a friend, and his permit checks out after a few calls. They ask if he's any good and Neji shakes his head, tells them he's isn't, not really. He's getting a lot of practice at lying, post-Iraq. Arrival is packed by the time he emerges from Customs and a family of four jostles past him, the mother chasing after a runaway toddler. He's about to make a beeline for one of the side exits before someone calls out his name, voice carrying through the din.
Neji stops and stares at the girl— young woman making her way towards him.
"Hi! You must be Hyuuga Neji! I'm Ino, your tour guide." A measured pause, painted lips pulled over even, white teeth. "Welcome to Budapest!"
The exuberance and wide grin throw Neji off, even more so than her accented English, but he catches on quick. Their handshake is brief, perfunctory. He switches to Japanese when he says, "You're my contact?"
She nods, gesturing at Neji to follow. He's too used to the military's more reserved approach that he isn't quite sure what to make of the cheerful spectacle in front of him. The whole idea is to remain inconspicuous and he has an inkling that inconspicuous is the last thing they are right now, especially with the offensively loud sweater Ino chooses to wear. He hitches the duffel bag higher on his shoulder and follows her lead through the airport to an attached parking lot. They stop right next to a small, electric car.
"This is it?"
Ino squeezes Neji's duffel bag and rifle case into the back. There must be some kind of magic involved when nothing spills out and she grins at Neji's incredulous look, pats the hood of the car affectionately. "Not the best-looking, but he gets the job done. Buckle up."
The car, as it turns out, is fast for its build. Ino hums a nondescript melody as she zips through a complicated maze of road and traffic, doesn't run over any of the pedestrians (surprisingly). Neji presses his mouth into a thin line, shifts uneasily when Ino makes a too-sharp turn and runs down a yellow light. It's not unlike riding at the back of a transport truck, playing Russian roulette with IEDs.
While Neji isn't in the habit of hanging out with covert field agents outside of his team roster, he's pretty sure Ino is not of the usual standard.
He doubts many of them drive like a deranged go-kart enthusiast, for example.
"How long have you been in Budapest?"
Ino glances at him and nearly hits an elderly lady crossing the road. Neji winces. They veer into a small alley before she says, "Almost two years."
There isn't any more pedestrian around, so Neji decides to risk another question. The worst that can happen is them running into a wall and maybe then he'd be able to sleep for more than a few hours. "And the target?"
"He runs an office downtown, but makes annual trips to several South-East Asian countries, especially Thailand and Malaysia. He's setting up similar shops over there." The car swerves around a water fountain, before screeching to an abrupt halt in front of an old building. "And we're here. Home sweet home."
Home is a safe house, an apartment overlooking a river right across a café advertising fresh coffee and baked goods. Neji can smell it all the way upstairs and he calculates the hours since he last ate. Japan feels like a lifetime ago. Ino shows him a room next to the kitchen and the linen looks fresh, tucked in neat and ruler-straight in typical military fashion. A bouquet of chrysanthemums sat in a vase on the nightstand, a spot of colour in an otherwise sterile room.
Neji walks around the apartment and notes each emergency exit, approves the grilled and bulletproof windows. There's another room sequestered at the back and when he tries the knob, he finds it locked.
"That's mine," Ino says. She holds out extra pillows towards Neji. "If you need anything, just knock."
Neji raises an eyebrow. "Don't you sleep?"
Ino's eyes crinkle when she laughs. He takes that as a 'no'.
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Neji dreams of Iraq, wakes up in Budapest with rain pelting the window and wonders if he should've retired five months ago.
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The information amassed by Ino is filed inside multiple folders, not quite haphazard, but Neji spends the better part of the morning re-organising everything. Ino's photographs are crisp though, centred on a middle-aged man flanked by armed bodyguards.
John Tanaka is third-generation Japanese-American, who graduated summa cum laude from Harvard Law and unfortunately decided that the straightlaced, nine-to-five life isn't for him. What separates him from other garden variety scums is that he's ruthlessly brilliant in his criminal undertakings. He keeps his circle of confidants small and moved underground for the first few years, slowly building his reputation through smuggling — human, art, exotic animals, anything that comes with an exorbitant price tag. His operation soon expands into weaponry and it's when he graduates to selling military secrets in the black market that the Japanese government finally takes notice.
There were three agents sent before Neji, each experienced and decorated.
Only two had been found: shot point-blank with their tongues cut out. The missing one's marked as KIA.
He wonders how long Ino has been sending home body bags.
Neji cleans his sidearm as he reads the reports, always finds it easier to focus when he's field-stripping his weapon at the same time. Apprehension sits heavily in the pit of his stomach as he stares at the pictures of the dead agents. The body count is higher than anticipated and if he doesn't tread carefully, he'll be part of that statistic. Reduced to a mug shot and redacted lines in the same report laid out on the table. It's too depressing of a thought, too early in the morning.
Once he's done with the separate components, he puts the handgun back together and snaps its magazine into place.
He catches a sudden movement from the corner of his eyes and points the gun towards it, training kicking in when caught off-guard.
Neji frowns. He lowers his gun. "Ino?"
Ino yawns and waves at Neji, nonplussed, despite almost being shot in her own living room. The early morning light, muted from the rain, paints pastels over her pale skin, and she pads into the kitchen, still in the thin t-shirt and shorts she must've worn to bed. Neji's traitorous mind points out that she's very attractive, made of clean, fluid lines and softer edges that he had not noticed the day before.
Neji tells his mind to shut the hell up and starts to disassemble the rifle just so he has something else to concentrate on.
Since he can do the entire routine with his eyes closed, it doesn't offer much distraction.
"Pancakes?"
He flips to the next page of the report and picks up the bore of the rifle. There are sounds of cupboards opening and closing, muted footsteps moving around the kitchen. "You drink coffee, right? Or do you want tea?"
He makes a non-committal sound. Ino ducks her head out of the kitchen to pin him with an exasperated look.
Neji shrugs. He tries not to smile when she scrunches her nose.
He's reached the end of the reports just as Ino delivers a carafe of coffee and pancakes drenched in maple syrup, a generous half-block of butter on the side. Neji stacks the folders on the edge of the table once he'd placed the reassembled sniper rifle back in its case, clearing out the surface. The smell of gun oil lingers between them, a reminder that this is business as usual. Ino pours herself some coffee and drops into the couch, cradling her mug in both hands as she peers at Neji over her knees. There are dark circles under her eyes, looks as if she'd been through the wood chipper once or twice.
"Rough night?" Neji eventually asks, forking a couple pancakes onto a plate. He eyes the way Ino's fingers skip over smooth porcelain, jittery. Like spider legs. "Are you the only one doing surveillance? Don't you guys usually have partners?"
Ino ducks her head to blow at the coffee. "I did."
Neji knows better than to question further. "Do you have anyone inside?"
"One, but he's only in the fringe. Delivery boy."
"Better than nothing." The pancakes are too sweet, more dessert than breakfast, and he watches the way Ino uncoil once he takes a large bite. It must've been a while since she last cooked for someone. Licking syrup from his lips, Neji fiddles with his fork. "So, what's the game plan? They told me nothing about what I'm supposed to do here and then put me on a plane next to the loudest snorer this side of the Pacific. It's not actually standard briefing."
Ino's laughter is loud, unrestrained. She shifts in her seat, tilts her head so that her hair spills in a cascade of white gold over her shoulder. "We're going after him."
"Yeah?" Taking down a criminal mastermind with an entourage as big as John Tanaka's usually requires a bigger task force than two field agents, one of whom is fresh out of a self-imposed exile. Last time Neji checked with his CO, they still have his file flagged for psychiatric evaluation. He shouldn't even be dragged into active duty this abrupt. "You must've been very disappointed that I'm the only one coming down for the party."
"We'll do fine." The strength of conviction in Ino's voice makes him think of Gai and that's a comparison Neji doesn't need. She leans forward, selects one of the folders and sifts through a stack of photographs. Her shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of skin that makes Neji's face burn. A photograph of a nondescript building is shoved into his face. "It's a private party; nobody's supposed to know we're here. He keeps record of his unofficial business ventures in his office downtown. We need to make sure they're looking elsewhere while we slip in."
"I flew all the way here just to play bait?"
"No, you're the lookout." She refills her coffee. And Neji's. "I need someone to stand guard while I break into his office. You come highly recommended."
He doesn't like where this is heading. "I don't think Tanaka is the kind of person to leave his office as easily accessible as you make it be."
Ino doesn't seem too perturbed by the edge of hostility seeping into Neji's voice, but her eyes have narrowed and there are shards of glass lurking behind them. "You don't have to worry about my part of the job. I don't get this far just because of my pretty face."
He forces himself to unbend, a physical effort. "I didn't mean it that way." Except he did and they both know it. It's not his place to question another soldier's competence. Because that's what Ino is, underneath all that shiny visage – a soldier, just like him. After half a second, Neji adds, "I'm sorry. It's been a while, since…"
Ino waves the apology away in the flick of a wrist. The gleam in her eyes tells Neji that she must've seen all the sordid details of Neji's file, including Iraq. "There's going to be a distraction, I've arranged it. You get into position to cover my ass. I only need to go in and install a bug in his private network, and the tech guys will do the rest."
Neji cuts himself another large piece of soggy pancake in an effort to stop from pointing out how bare-boned this plan is. How multiple things could go wrong. "That's all?"
"It's taken us the loss of several assets to consider this the best course of action." She might be trying to hide it, but Neji knows the type — Ino's carrying a massive chip on her shoulder for those deaths under her care and she might've well been the one to push for this indirect solution. "Not the most ideal, but it's a lot less expensive than the alternative. If everything goes well, you'll be on the flight home by the end of this week."
Neji surprises himself by asking, "And you?"
"I'll be reassigned to another case once I finish tying up any loose end here." She shrugs off the confusion on Neji's face, carefully nonchalant. "There's no rest for the wicked."
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The weather takes a turn after the morning's smattering of rain, clouds reluctantly giving way as a watery-yellow sun climbs higher across the sky without shedding much heat. Ino finds Neji a thicker coat somewhere in the depth of her room and they walk down the streets with their collars turned up against the lingering chill. Budapest is as beautiful as the travel brochure had promised, and Neji appreciates that the city doesn't make a conscious effort to camouflage its flaws, which become more apparent the further away they travel from the city centre. Its architecture vacillates between old, charming facades and grandiose edifices built to simultaneously inspire and awe, a world's apart from Tokyo's claustrophobic modernity.
Ino points out John Tanaka's office building.
Neji shakes his head at the cheerful, slightly schizophrenic menagerie of modern art decorating its reception area. "Murder HQ."
"Technically, it's Trafficking HQ." The hitch of Ino's lips is wry and she's pushing back hair from her eyes. A woman walking her collection of dogs bristles past, levelling them a look for obstructing pedestrian traffic. "C'mon. There's a place near the river that makes really good macarons."
The macarons are great. Ino seems more relaxed out of the apartment, chattering on and on about some of the tourist attractions Neji should visit. As if they're there on vacation. Neji listens in between sips of hot chocolate, watching the way Ino's eyes light up in jubilant hues and wondering why she didn't choose a different career path, when she's so obviously made for better things.
Ino notices him looking after a few minutes and Neji gets a raised eyebrow, an amused quirk of lips that makes him look away quickly.
He spends the night on the couch, rereading the files and poring over blueprints to figure out an entry and exit plan for the infiltration. This is usually Tenten's field of expertise — what Neji does best is to point and shoot. Repeatedly. And with great accuracy. He misses working the familiar parameter and with people who know his quirks, who understand how much space they're supposed to give him for things to fall into place.
He has none of that in Budapest.
What he has is a near stranger behind a closed door in a city that thrums quietly along a discordant heartbeat.
He waits for the light under Ino's door to disappear, but falls asleep over the drawn skeletons of countless buildings.
Loud, upbeat music pulsating through the apartment startles him awake, nearly makes him fall off the couch, and he glares as Ino laughs on her way to the kitchen for a breakfast of leftover macarons.
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Neji counts his heartbeats.
He stops at ten and starts all over again, the usual breathing exercise.
The heft of his rifle is solid and reassuring, a familiar constant. Neji doesn't question the morality of killing when the world is an ever-shifting warzones. The targets are of equal opportunity. He's learnt to remove humanity in the split-second decision he takes — they are no longer people, just numbers on a piece of paper. Percentages. He tracks John Tanaka through his scope, thumb flicking through the numbers as he estimates the wind speed adjustments he'd normally make if he's taking up a killing position. Urban areas create complex wind flow environments, harder to determine without the mobile weather station he keeps in his kit.
But he's not here to eliminate a threat. Not this time.
He trains the crosshair on Tanaka's dark head, takes a deep breath and mimes pulling the trigger.
(Would've been his 57th.)
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John Tanaka looks like any normal, successful businessman littering the party. He plays the part well, making small talks with other guests and laughing along with whatever the mayor says, like he isn't single-handedly funding a home-grown terrorist cell right under their noses. His arm candy is a statuesque redhead with cheekbones sharp enough to cut steel, in a body-hugging dress that ripples in shimmering silver when it catches the light from the chandelier above. Neji snags a flute of champagne from a passing server and catches the sweep of Ino's eyes from across the room. The charity gala is a lavish affair, attended by the rich and the influential. And since it's being held in Tanaka's building, it's their best chance to carry out some much-needed recon before the actual break-in.
Their invitation is addressed to a Nakano Hina. Plus one.
Neji doesn't ask who Nakano Hina is.
"I hope you're not in the habit of getting drunk on the job."
Neji ignores her as he takes a sip. He eyes the platter of hors d'oeuvres gliding past and grabs a crostino topped with shredded duck confit.
"It's a joke. Lighten up." Ino's mouth twitches, looks like she's valiantly trying not to laugh at his refusal to engage. She checks the delicate timepiece wrapped around her wrist and says, "Shall we?"
Neji places his drink on the tray of a passing waiter and smooths a hand over his suit. "Lead the way."
The hallway gets progressively darker the further they venture away from all the merrymaking, conversations fading into silence. Ino is half a step ahead and Neji follows her lead, eyeing the span of empty spaces. Doors. Windows. Counting egress points. Making sure that the blueprints are accurate, so Ino won't be caught off-guard. She marks the distance between the elevator and Tanaka's office, walks Neji through other options, worst case scenarios. They're about to head back when Neji catches sight of two burly figures striding towards them, spearheaded by none other than their target.
He swallows a protest when Ino suddenly shoves him to the side.
Neji doubts their invite include being this far inside the building.
"Don't look." His eyes narrow when Ino presses her champagne flute into his hand and uses both arms to bracket him against the wall. She grins, says, "Guess we're in trouble."
Neji narrows his eyes even further, doesn't flinch under Ino's scrutiny. His posture remains open and trusting, and Neji has a hard time concentrating on John Tanaka and the two guards making their way towards them. Especially when Ino leans into him to whisper, "Make it look good, alright?"
It must be the champagne that makes the world tilt a little under his polished brogues, although Neji doesn't usually get tipsy after a few meagre sips. He stays deathly still when Ino tilts her head and presses her mouth to Neji's. The kiss is intended to be chaste, nothing more than a ruse to explain why two guests are tucked away in a private niche in the middle of an extravagant party. Neji stiffens for a half-second when their mouths touch, but he catches on quick; he lowers his head to make the kiss appear deeper and pulls Ino closer by slinging an arm around her lower back. His other hand goes to her thigh.
The sound of heavy footsteps slows as the guards round their corner and one of them chokes out a surprised noise, mutters a curse under his breath. Ino steps out of Neji's arms then and performs a spectacular impression of a drunken stumble.
Right into John Tanaka.
"Oi!"
The guards start forward, halted only by a look from Tanaka. Ino giggles and mutters something in Hungarian, punctuated by a smile that curls a little too friendly. Tanaka doesn't look too amused, but he's a gracious host and he steadies Ino with a hand on her elbow, herding her back towards Neji. They exchange a few more words, all in Hungarian, so the only thing Neji can contribute to the conversation is a nod once Ino is returned to him. Who starts pawing at his chest, a besotted grin firmly in place. Neji wraps an arm around Ino's waist, looking, for all intent and purposes, like they're about to resume their interrupted tête-à-tête.
Derailing any question that might be forthcoming.
Tanaka straightens his suit and breezes past, followed closely by his guards. One of them turns and shoots a suspicious look at Neji, at the line of his jacket where his service gun is hiding beneath. Ino circles round and shields Neji from view in a stance that screams proprietary, holds her position until the sound of their footsteps fades. They wait for a few more minutes, just in case, and Neji has to resist thumbing at Ino's lower lip to see if it bruises as easily as it looks.
He pulls away once Ino gives him the go-ahead, takes a step back to steady the swirling tide of desire in the pit of his stomach and maybe tell his fucking heart to stop beating so rapidly.
"Did you get it?"
Ino holds up a small black box, designed to duplicate the frequency in the tag used by Tanaka for his office. She taps the device against Neji's chest. "Of course. Stroke of luck, running into him like that." She flashes him a cheeky grin. "Good work on the diversion. I'd give it a solid six."
It's hard to keep a straight face, but Neji manages. "I wasn't even trying."
In the cusp of shadows, the gleam in Ino's eyes almost feels like an invitation.
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"What are you making?"
Ino glances at him from over a shoulder. She'd changed out of her dress and her apron sports a bright pink proclamation of 'kiss the chef', which is unfortunately the only thing Neji has been thinking about for the past few hours. She's also holding a knife like she's about to gut someone. "Curry."
"Oh." Neji hasn't had curry for months, the last time he'd seen his family. Whatever left of them. It's been too long. He leans against the counter, peering at the assortment of ingredients on the chopping board. Making conversation isn't his forte, makes his skin itch with discomfort, but he doesn't think he wants to be alone right at that moment. "Do you— cook often?"
Ino laughs and brings down the knife with all the grace of a well-trained murderer, neatly slicing everything into even pieces. It must've been easier for her to cook without having to nudge Neji out of his way every so often, but she doesn't seem to mind as much as he thought she would. Ino dices the chicken into bite-sized cubes, shares her favourite local dishes as Neji thinks about how much he misses his mother's cooking.
Neji leans back when Ino starts smashing a couple garlics under the flat side of the knife. She's also making some kind of a vegetable stir-fry he doesn't recognise, apparently. "Don't you get holidays at all?"
"The last time I did was before I came here," Ino says, tipping the crushed garlic to the side. "You were on active rotation. You know how it is."
"It's not the same at all," Neji points out.
His hand reaches for the snow peas on the counter and blinks when Ino grabs his wrist, pins it against the counter. His first instinct is to shove Ino off and maybe break a finger or two, but he keeps still as Ino looks at him with those frost-blue eyes.
Her apron still reads 'kiss the chef' and Ino's mouth is a curving sweetness when he twists himself free. Pulls her to him. The kiss is quick and dirty and over entirely too soon.
She tsks. "You're going to ruin your appetite."
Neji huffs against Ino's laughing lips and pulls her back in.
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Neji blames it on cabin fever.
Or temporary insanity. Whichever more convenient.
Ino is running through surveillance cameras she'd planted in Tanaka's favourite haunts, making sure they're not missing anything important. There are hours upon hours of footage, playing at once on three different screens. Neji lies in her bed, traces Ino's spine as she hunches over the screens, headphones blocking the world. Her glasses reflect corner streets and closed windows and countless doorways, silhouettes crowding the peripheral. She doesn't falter, doesn't move when Neji drops a kiss on the top of her spine, but she does smile. Warm and affectionate.
Neji replaces the kiss with a bite after a few seconds, suddenly hates to be ignored, and gets rolled over in retaliation.
He sinks into Ino's laughter and feels more alive than he'd been for months.
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Neji thinks about his kills. 56 confirmed.
He can still quote the data on each: weapon used, round used, grains, distances, weather, wind, location.
Heads exploding in his scope site.
Grief does funny things to people. Sometimes it exhausts them to their bare bones and leaves them with nothing, but the empty shape of a person who used to be there. Sometimes it burns them up, lights up their hearts like Roman candles until they're nothing but ash.
He'd read that somewhere and he still can't quite decide which one applies to him.
"Are you ready?"
Ino has her head tilted, watching with those knowing eyes.
Waiting.
Neji holsters his gun, grabs his rifle case. Just before they make it to the door, she grabs the lapel of his coat and yanks him down for a quick kiss. At his startled, questioning stare, Ino says, "For luck."
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"I'll put the surveillance feed on loop before I get inside, but I only have fifteen minutes before their system's going to kick me out. Be careful out there, Neji."
The traffic sign changes and Neji watches as Ino cross the road, a twirl of scarf obscuring the lower half of her face. He takes his time, knows from experience that nothing good will come from rushing his way through. They decided earlier that the building right across the road provides a good enough perch and he takes the stairs to the roof, two at a time. Neji settles in with his rifle, picks the spot that would give him the best vantage view of Tanaka's office. He watches through the scope as the receptionist smiles at Ino, before going back to pecking at her computer once she sees Ino tap past the employee gate. He loses sight of her when she steps into an elevator and starts tracking its climb, all the way up. It's a quick ride. The floor's empty except for a few heads bent over their own work and Ino breezes past them like she's supposed to be there.
That's the trick, she's told him — look like you belong and no one would think otherwise.
Tanaka's away at some other functions for his legitimate businesses and Ino finesses the lock on his door, closing it shut behind her. He sees her bend over the computer for a few minutes, fiddling with whatever she needs to camouflage the program she's installing, and he counts his breath in slow increments. He keeps his eyes on the arch of her neck, on the sway of her ponytail as she looks intently at the screen. There are glimpses of her turquoise nail polish, tap tapping away at the keyboard. He's professional enough to not ogle at her ass through his scope, although he thinks she would've found that hilarious.
Ino's already striding outside in another ten minutes.
"How are you doing?" Her voice comes through the earwig, tinny and distant. He imagines her smiling. The sky is turning dark, temperature dropping again. Lashes of cold wind nip at his ears and he looks up at the parade of clouds descending onto them. "Easy-peasy. We should get a nice dinner to celebrate."
Neji shakes his head. He's about to tell her you're going to jinx it, when he hears a loud 'Hey!' that isn't directed at him. He stills, paranoia rearing its ugly head. Considering it's an old friend that had kept him alive in more than one occasion, he's more than willing to listen. He puts his eyes back to the scope and sees two men behind her, coming from across the street. Tanaka's office. They're gesturing at Ino, who's ignoring them and has picked up her pace.
"Ino, there's two behind you," he says, grinding the words through clenched teeth. He considers dropping them – it'll only take couple bullets, less than a minute. He doesn't know if they can afford the commotion that would inevitably follow. "You have to lose them."
Her harsh whisper comes under a strip of static, "I'm trying!"
The men look at each other, before they break into a run after her.
Fuck.
Neji inhales sharply, makes an executive decision he hopes he won't regret, and takes aim. The bullet finds the asphalt right in front of the larger of the two, making both of them rear back in surprise. Their heads whip around, trying to find the source of the shot, buying precious few minutes before the pursuit would soon resume. Neji's already bounding down the stairs, streaking down the floors as blood pounds loudly in his ears. He leaves the rifle and its case tucked behind a vent on the roof, wants to believe that he'll have the opportunity to pick them up later. Neji bursts out of the building, cold sweat prickling the back of his neck, and immediately makes eye contact with the hired goons. He summons a smirk.
Good news: they realise he must've been the one shooting at them.
Bad news: they realise he must've been the one shooting at them.
Guns are quickly (and unfortunately) drawn and Neji takes that as a sign to get his ass out of there pronto, while he has their full attention. Ino seems to have turned a corner somewhere and disappeared, and he lets out a relieved sigh, before promptly running off down a different street. There's more yelling and he makes the mistake of heading for the deserted back alleys. He manages to lose his pursuers for a few minutes: clearly, exercise is not as high up on their list, but his moment of triumph doesn't last when they start firing at him.
The first bullet misses, but the second ricochets off a part of a building and he spits out a curse when he's hit, body jerking back from the sheer amount of impact and shock. His shoulder burns, feels like it's lit up inside out.
It's like Iraq all over again, being caught unaware, and that's a lesson he should've learnt the first time around.
Ino must've heard him and her voice comes through tinged with fear.
"Neji? What happened?!"
He grimaces as Ino's voice crackles, hopes that he's nowhere close to being out of range because then he'd be totally fucked. He turns into another alleyway when he realises that the panting and the adrenaline and maybe the blood loss are making him a little manic.
"I'm alright. Heading for the meeting point." Neji slows to catch his breath, which is a terrible idea because he's now doubly aware of the excruciating pain radiating from his shoulder. "Where are you?"
"I'm coming for you. Tell me if you're changing direction."
Neji doesn't know the city well enough to do just that, so he keeps to their agreed contingency route and prays for the best. There are voices behind him shouting and he's not sure if they're Tanaka's men or concerned civilians expressing outrage at a guy splattering blood all over their formerly-pristine streets. Eventually, the street crosses with another and Neji hesitates for a few seconds to remember which he's supposed to take. The decision is made for him when a bullet nearly clips his right arm. He makes a break for it, sprinting forward through traffic and narrowly misses being barrelled down by an ice cream truck.
The driver honks at him above the sound of gunshots.
Neji kind of wants to call Lee and tells Tenten that this vacation sucks.
He can almost hear them laughing at him.
A jeep screeches to a halt at the mouth of the alley and Ino greets him with eyes scarred with worries. Those eyes widen when she sees dark carmine seeping through the gaps of Neji's fingers and she scrambles to open the door, leaning back as Neji stumbles inside. The upholstery is a shade of light brown, smooth to the touch, and Neji's almost sorry to see his blood smeared in stark red streaks across it. He clenches his jaw as Ino drives over a pothole, pain flaring bright and agonising, but what rankles him the most is the expression on her face.
Fear.
He's learnt to recognise that years ago — before Bahrain, before the sewers in Kiev, before Iraq. Usually sees it at the other end of a gun barrel and it's never a welcomed sight.
Especially now. On Ino.
"I should've made sure there weren't any eyes on me." Ino's knuckles are white from her death grip on the steering wheel. Her eyes flicker to Neji. "What's the damage?"
"Didn't hit anything important, I don't think," he says, tries to smile to give her reassurance, but everything feels a bit wobbly. He's not sure if it's the blood loss or the last dregs of sanity finally escaping his grasp, but he reaches out against better judgement. Brushes blood-stained fingers over the arch of Ino's cheek. "Hey, it's not your fault."
Ino flinches at the touch, but doesn't pull away. She makes a sharp turn to avoid incoming traffic and ignores the angry motorists flipping him off. If Neji survives this clusterfuck, he's going to have to talk to Ino about maybe getting proper driving lessons so she doesn't end up committing vehicular manslaughter in the future. "Just— don't die."
Neji lets out a breathy scoff. "That's what they said."
"They?"
"My team." Neji sinks deeper into the seat and throws the back of an arm over his eyes. He laughs, the sound coming out ugly and wet, and he has to clear his throat before he adds, "You'll like them."
The last thing he hears before he surrenders into that lovely stretch of nothingness is Ino's voice urgently telling him not to.
.
.
Iraq is hot. And full of sand, with weather-beaten brown faces peering out of dilapidated buildings in perpetual fear. It's the same old picture in every single village they've gone through so far. Neji hefts his rifle over a shoulder, his backpack on another, and treks down the outcrop of boulders where he'd been standing guard since dawn. They're moving to a new location in the next available convoy and he can't wait to get out of the merciless sun. Gai's running point, Lee covering his ass, and Neji shakes his head when Naruto stumbles over loose rocks on his way down.
The guy is as graceful as a sixteen-wheeler with a malfunctioning brake.
"They radioed in yet?"
Neji takes a deep drag from his canteen, eyes fixed on Gai's face as the older man cradles the receiver between his ear and shoulder. His hands are preoccupied with tracing a route on their map. "Doesn't look like it."
"Maybe they're stuck in traffic," Naruto laughs, a boisterous sound that draws Tenten and Lee's attention. He's a temporary transfer to the team for this part of the tour and seems to suffer from a state of inexhaustible energy. Neji doesn't know what Hinata sees in Naruto, but she's the one dating him so she's already biased. "Do you know what I'll do once we get back?"
"Train so that you don't get your ass beat by a woman and her slipper?"
"I didn't know she would start swinging!" Naruto makes a face at Tenten, pouting at the injustice of the experience. It just makes him look younger. His hair's getting longer, peppered with dust, and Neji had reminded him before that he shouldn't take his combat helmet off, the reckless idiot. "I'm gonna—"
Neji knows he's in the middle of another nightmare now because everything just goes quiet. The world holding its breath. This scene always plays out the same way, over and over again. Naruto doesn't get to finish that sentence because in the next second, they hear the sound of shots going over their heads, before the group erupts. Neji turns to look, rifle already raised, but he finds himself suddenly being barrelled into, right down to the ground.
He stares up at Naruto, a 'what the fuck are you doing?!' at the tip of his tongue, but he can only watch as Naruto's body is suddenly jerked sideways by the force of a 338 blowing off half of his head. The helmet goes flying. Neji's breath hitches and he flattens to the ground. In his peripheral, he can see Tenten and Lee doing the same. Gai is already out of sight as a hail of bullets descends upon them. Neji's close enough that he still has Naruto's prone body in his line of vision. Brain matters and blood splatter over the sand and stones, drying under the baking sun.
Naruto's eyes are wide open but nothing is there now — not the mirth, the childish delight, the joy, the sheer life he used to encompass.
Neji grips his rifle and stares.
Whose blood-speckled mouth parts and he hears Naruto's voice say, strangely clear amidst all the chaos, "I shouldn't have saved you."
.
.
Neji screams. And screams—
—and screams.
.
.
He jerks awake, heart pounding against his ribcage and horror-wrapped syllables lodged inside his throat. It's that familiar, unpleasant process — surfacing from nightmares half-remembered, glimpses of faces that belong to the dead and it wouldn't be long before he starts contemplating shoving a gun under his chin just to make it all stop. He blinks at the ceiling, tries to calm his choppy breathing. It takes several minutes for him to realise that he's back in his temporary room and that he's hooked to two large IVs. He can't feel his shoulder, doesn't even bother trying to rotate the joint.
"Neji?"
His neck protests when he turns to the source of the voice. Ino looks like she hasn't slept in years. "Are you okay?"
Ino's face crumples. "I should be the one asking."
Nausea makes Neji swallow a couple times. "Water?"
"Wait here."
As if Neji is in any shape to move, even if he wants to. Ino comes back with a glass of ice chips and she holds it to Neji's mouth, sitting on the edge of the bed like she's afraid she'll break something if she gets too close.
"You're lucky it went clean through. And that he got you outside of the shoulder. Anywhere else and it could've nicked an artery. You could've lost that arm."
"It still beats dying." Neji swallows what he can and leans back, wincing at the first throb of pain. "I've been thinking about retiring anyway."
Ino blinks, clearly blindsided by the confession.
Neji is about to tell her it's not a big deal, that retirement is probably the best option (considering the alternative), but the door cracks open and another young woman walks in, green eyes and bubblegum pink hair. She looks vaguely familiar; Neji doesn't know why. "Ino, they've just called me in—" She pauses once she notices Neji. "Oh, you're awake."
"Am I not supposed to?" he deadpans.
Ino levels him an exasperated look. "She saved your life, y'know."
The woman heads towards the bed and her smile is saccharine sweet as she looks down at Neji. "It's no big deal. I'm used to ungrateful morons in my line of work. How are you feeling, champ?"
Neji's expression flattens. "Like I've been hit by a truck."
"Great." She pats him on his non-bandaged shoulder, perhaps a little harder than necessary. He might still be a little fuzzy from the painkillers because her smile seems more axe murderer than Florence Nightingale when she says, "Take the antibiotics. I'll come back after my shift to make sure you're not dead."
Ino grins, eyes crinkling. "Sleep. You'll feel better."
.
.
"Maybe they're stuck in traffic," Naruto's laughing again. Neji wishes he wouldn't laugh so much so loudly. He drags the back of a hand over his sweaty forehead. "Do you know what I'll do once we get back?"
"Train so that you don't get your ass beat by a woman and her slipper?"
"I didn't know she would start swinging!" Naruto's scrunched up face doesn't even register. He is still not wearing his helmet, doesn't matter how many times Neji tells him to. "I'm gonna—"
The shove comes, the world tilting on its axis. Naruto looking at him. One single bullet. The helmet goes flying.
Neji stares at whatever's left of Naruto's head and hears,
I shouldn't have saved you.
.
.
"What's happeni— Neji! Neji, it's okay! You're safe—"
"—hold him still! Shit—"
A pinch on his forearm and Neji is sliding back under, the ghosts going to bed inside his head.
.
.
Neji wakes up again to the sight of Ino at his bedside, mouth slowly moving as she reads something on her laptop. She's in an oversized sweater, soft yellow, and it's a rather nice view, so Neji spends several minutes keeping very still and just— watching her. Sequestered from the rest of the world like this, it's easy to pretend that they're more than colleagues. Put together to serve a higher purpose than mere convenience, and he aches for something that could have been. Ino eventually realises he's awake and closes the laptop, puts it away. Neji is too drugged up to parse the emotions flitting through her face, the way she chews on her lower lip as if sorting through a rolodex of condolences.
I'm sorry you're fucked up beyond belief is one of the more familiar options.
Neji decides to beat her to it. "Did it work?"
Ino's eyebrows crease. "What?"
He clears his throat. "Tanaka. Did we get him?"
"Yes," Ino says, in a voice that's raw and exhausted. It's nowhere near triumphant. "It'll take a while to dismantle his operation completely, but we have everything we need to take him down. Local office's coordinating to keep him here until they're ready to extradite."
Neji tries to laugh. The sound that comes out of his mouth is closer to breathless wheezing and Ino's face twists with concern. There's also an underlying tension in the set of her shoulders, the restless way she's picking at the knee of her jeans, and Neji knows what's coming even before Ino opens her mouth.
"If you want to talk—"
"No, I don't," Neji says, as steadily as he knows how. Ino is shaking her head before Neji's even finished and he thinks, resentfully, what would you know? What the fuck would you know? "It's no big deal."
"You were thrashing around in your sleep. Hurting yourself." There's an uncharacteristic edge in her voice, hard and cutting. "How long has this been going on?"
"I'm fine." Neji looks at the hurt marring Ino's eyes and nearly capitulates. But then he remembers that Ino is heading off to another part of the world as soon as they're done (there's no rest for the wicked, she'd said, without explicitly pointing out if she's referring to them or the guys on the other side of the fence) and whatever they have between them won't survive two different flights out of the country. It's easier to cut his losses now. "Leave it alone."
"Neji—"
"Leave it."
.
.
Neji dreams of Iraq and Naruto and the way Ino reeled back from him, as if Neji had emptied several rounds of .357 ordinance into her chest.
.
.
Recovery takes first precedence.
The doctor introduces herself simply as Sakura and offers nothing else. Neji thinks she must be ex-military. Or an officer planted right around Ino's, in case of medical emergencies. There are always contingency plans in place because the military is well-versed in the history of best-laid plans going spectacularly awry. Her hands are quick and thorough, and she repacks the hole punched through his flesh without much preamble. She checks the dressing and tells him that he's a lucky bastard — GSWs to the shoulder are almost always nasty.
"You've got someone up there looking out for you."
Neji doesn't tell her that he's about as religious as the rifle sitting in its locked case. "Am I cleared to fly?"
"We can load you up on drugs and hope for the best." Her lips twitch. He winces when she makes him lean forward so she can check his back. "As long as you don't get a panic attack and start bleeding out again in a giant tin can hurtling cross-continent 35,000 feet above ground, you'll survive."
"That doesn't sound like standard medical advice."
"You're not asking for standard medical advice." She doesn't seem uncomfortable or irritated, just amused, as if she finds Neji's abrasiveness endearing. "Why are you in such a hurry to leave? Stay a while. Visit the Buda Castle. Eat some goulash. Fuck a local."
Neji chokes on the pills he was trying to dry swallow.
"I saved your life," Sakura points out calmly. She's now talking like a friend, instead of a stranger, and that sets his teeth on edge. "Don't waste it."
.
.
when the hell are you coming back. gai won't admit it but he's starting to worry.
Neji chews on his lips. It's slow, typing with his left. I'm quitting.
Tenten's reply chimes in after midnight.
no you won't. you're too stubborn to quit. be safe. come back home.
.
.
Ino's steps are measured when she makes her way inside. There's a precision to her movements, as if to counteract some greater sway.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better." It's awkward, tentative and Neji hates it. Ino moves to the chair right next to the bed, close enough to touch. Her expression is tight and miserable, a blankness Neji can't recognise. He knows he's the one who put it there and the knowledge sits like an anvil in the hollow of his gut. He tries to swallow, but the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them. "His name's Naruto."
Ino's eyes widen and she goes stock-still.
Neji sucks in a breath through his teeth. The air in the room seems to turn to water around him, settling thick and heavy in his lungs.
"He's— loud. Never stopped talking, it's ridiculous." Neji startles himself when he barks out a laugh. His shoulder hurts. His chest hurts. He thinks about Naruto's fluorescent grin and everything inside him hurts. "He's supposed to come home with us. He's supposed to come home in one piece and marry my cousin that spring."
Neji waits for panic to kick in, because this is more than what he'd shared with his therapist, with anyone else in his team, but the only thing he feels is the kind of weariness that's chiselled its way into his marrows. He can't even speak to Hinata after the funeral. Ino's silence is deafening and his eyes flicker to the window in refuge: the light's fading, the sky filled to bulging with the colour of honeysuckle and lavender.
Neji misses the privacy (emptiness) of his apartment in Tokyo.
"He knew the risks when he signed up. We all do," Ino finally says, after an eternity. She threads her fingers through Neji's and squeezes. Her eyes are dark and solemn, solidarity in grief. Even though she doesn't know Naruto, wouldn't even get the chance. Neji thinks they would've gotten along and his throat closes around a sob. "And what we can do afterwards is to soldier on, because that's what we do."
Ino's ersatz smile widens.
"That's the only thing we can do."
.
.
Sakura teaches him how to change the bandages and gives a curt, unsolicited advice about the perils of getting addicted to painkillers.
"I'm not an idiot," he says. His luggage is packed and he hasn't seen Ino around the apartment since yesterday. There was breakfast on the bedside table when he woke up, but no note. No extra body.
Neji knows what that means. He'd said enough goodbyes to last several lifetimes.
Something must've shown on his face because Sakura looks at him thoughtfully. "Could've fooled me."
.
.
Neji hands the Customs officer his Boarding pass and passport and goes through the bags-jacket-x-ray dance as efficiently as possible. They ask him about the rifle case and he gives them the same story he did when he first landed. Friend of a friend. Shooting competition. They ask him how he fared. He tells them he fucked up his shoulder so he didn't get to fire a single bullet and that earns him a round of polite laughter. They're nice enough to wish him luck for his next imaginary competition and he wishes them 'good day' in mangled Hungarian, the only phrase he still remembers from the mini travel dictionary he left in the taxi that had deposited him to the airport.
He gets the aisle seat and looks at the window longingly.
"Are you gonna get in?"
That's Ino's voice and that's Ino standing behind him, a light sheen of sweat making her skin glisten in the harsh artificial light.
It looks like she'd been running.
Neji stares, open-mouthed.
"What are you doing here?"
Ino's eyes narrow. "Why the fuck do you think?"
It's the first time Neji sees anger writhe through Ino's expression, like she's seconds away from punching Neji in the throat, and it does nothing to make her less attractive. The other passengers are starting to stare and one of the flight attendants clears her throat, nervously. Since getting thrown out is not part of the plan, Neji scoots inside, mindful of his shoulder, and watches Ino settle into his seat. They don't talk as they sit through the pre-flight briefing, but Neji feels like he's sitting next to a furnace roiling with the heat of barely-suppressed anger.
Once they're well in the air and the light on the seatbelt sign blinks off, Ino twists towards him.
It's only years of military training that keeps Neji from leaning away.
"What were you thinking? Just leaving like that?" They're descending into furious whispers now and this would've been funny if Neji's head isn't spinning so much. He watches Ino's fingers curling and uncurling on the armrest. "Why didn't you wait for me?"
"Because we're done." The flash of hurt that cuts across Ino's face feels like a knife sliding through his ribs. Neji clenches his jaw. "You said you're getting reassigned as soon as the op's over."
"Yeah, I was supposed to!" Ino replies, tightly. "That's why I had to hand in all my reports and talk to my CO. The next thing I know, Sakura's calling me saying that you're on your way to the airport."
"Wait." Neji licks his lips, trying to put his scattered thoughts into some semblance of order. "Wait. What do you mean you're 'supposed to'?"
It's Ino's turn to be caught off-guard. She hesitates for a moment too long before she says, "My leave's been approved."
Neji's eyebrows hike to his hairline. "Leave?"
"Yeah? I've been thinking about what you said—" There's a telltale flush of red creeping over her neck, her cheeks, "—that I haven't been home for ages. And—" she's nervous, Neji's mind points out as Ino starts rubbing the back of her neck, "—I thought, y'know, maybe it'd be nice go back." Her voice drops, almost embarrassed. "With you."
And then Ino smiles, sweet and hopeful and so open it makes something in Neji's chest breaks open.
He garbles out an impatient noise and grabs Ino's elbow to tug her closer. His shoulder twinges in protest, but this is much too important for him to worry about fucking it up even further. He'll do extra rounds of PT later. Ino's mouth parts in surprise and Neji seals his lips over it, presses as close as he can with the armrest between them. She stiffens the first second, before her fingers slide across his cheeks and into his hair, uses the grip to anchor him in place. Everything falling into the right place, all their disjointed pieces slotting and sliding home. The kiss gets a little slower, softer, less desperate, and Neji finds it difficult not to be disappointed when Ino steals one last kiss before pulling away.
He presses their foreheads together.
"I assume that's a 'yes'?"
Neji drags in another lungful of air. Her smile makes him want to kiss her. Again and again and again. "Definitely a 'yes'."
The moment's ruined by a smattering of applause from the peanut gallery, a few wolf whistles thrown in and Neji would've preferred getting shot all over again than having to endure this. The attendant from earlier catches his eyes and winks, gives him two thumbs up from where she's leaning against a cart. Her colleague is surreptitiously dabbing at her eyes. Neji wants to crawl into the cargo hold and stay there for the remainder of the flight. Ino, however, is holding his hand and looks really fucking happy and Neji realises that maybe—
—maybe it's okay to start living again.
(He will always remember. He will dream of Iraq and Naruto and the nightmares will never be truly gone, but Ino will be there to remind him that the dead doesn't begrudge the living for their borrowed time.)
"Hey." Neji looks at Ino when he feels the nudge against his elbow. The commotion has thankfully died down and he's no longer hiding behind the in-flight menu. He stops crunching on his third packet of complimentary peanuts to raise an eyebrow in question. Ino grins. "Wanna join the Mile High Club?"
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end
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postscript: i just thought it'd be fitting, y'know. for naruto to sacrifice himself for neji this time around. :)