A/N: Someone always has to die in my stories. I just can't help it! So, here is another a spoonful of angst.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
…..
She is stumbling, her hand clutching her side as she walks through the streets, a pronounced limp slowing her gait. She squints, her vision obscured by sweat, blood, and hair, at a small house a little ways ahead of her. The curtains are drawn over the bedroom windows, the front door is chipped and in need of a fresh coat of paint, and the lawn is dotted with weeds. She calls it home.
She staggers up the porch steps, leaning momentarily against the door before mustering enough strength to heave it open.
A light clicks on in the kitchen. He is waiting.
Neji appears in front of her not a moment later, hands reaching out to steady her. She tries to pry his fingers from her shoulders, always quick to exercise her independence, but her words are slurred and jumbled and only cause more concern. The Hyuuga watches her struggle, pulling her against his chest after he's seen enough. "Stop," he whispers.
She obeys.
He leads her to her small dining table, helping her settle into a chair before inspecting her wounds. There is a large gash on her arm, bleeding profusely. When he lifts the hem of her shirt, he discovers another on the side of her stomach, though this one has been crudely stitched. He works quietly, long, deft fingers gently gliding over her marred skin. Even so, she whimpers.
It reminds him of a kicked puppy, and he tries to ignore the way his heart clenches at the sound. She is teetering at the edge of her self-control, tears building at the corners of her eyes. Neji thinks they are from pain and stops bandaging her arm long enough to brush them away. Tenten knows they're from losing a comrade, a brother. Lee.
She does not know how to tell him, she does not think she can tell him. She does not want to see the disappointment in his eyes, the hurt, the hate. She is collapsing under the heavy burden, and her heart has settled as a lump in her throat. Her mouth is dry. Neji hands her a glass of water, and it slips from her hand, shattering on the floor much like the way she wants to break.
The Hyuuga pays no heed to the mess-she is more important. Tenten bites her lip; he would never think about her the same way again once she finds her voice.
After an hour, he is finished and helps her stand. She is shaky and clutches his arm so tight it becomes numb. It does not matter, Neji's movements never hinder. He directs her into the living room now, where a blanket and pillow have been arranged on the couch, a makeshift bed until she is able to climb the stairs. She lies down, never meeting his gaze. She instead favors staring at the faded blue fabric of the couch, fingering every tear to keep herself occupied.
Neji tucks her in, maintaining his gentle touch, as if she were a fragile china doll. He leans down to press a kiss to her forehead, lips lingering on her hairline. Finally, he switches off the light and retreats to the kitchen. She is left alone in the dark, and she angles her head to view the window. As she closes her eyes, thunder rumbles faintly in the distance and the first drops of rain begin to fall.
Tenten is shaken awake sometime the next morning, her mind pulled from its groggy state as her nostrils catch a whiff of Neji's cooking. The Hyuuga is kneeling beside her, dressed in an old pair of pajamas he hides somewhere in her house. He seems more at ease, giving her a small smile when she looks at him. Tenten shifts her eyes again; admiring the way the sunlight casts a halo about his form.
They do not speak, but Tenten can see there is more grace in his steps than the previous night. How she tries not to think about the way he will stomp towards her, glowering, when he finds out she let his best friend die.
Breakfast is a silent affair, and the air is suffocating her.
"I love you," he tells her at noon, while he ladles soup into a bowl. She makes a small noise that he takes as "I love you too". Her heart breaks at his simplicity: how she is enough for him to be happy. She notes he has cleaned the shards of glass from the floor, and for a moment, she wonders if she can be mended too.
In the evening, she wanders out to the porch, seating herself in the rickety swing. Neji joins her a while later, taking her hand in his. She holds onto his fingers tightly, glancing down at them when he squeezes back.
"He's gone," he says, and her eyes widen.
"You knew?" she croaks.
"Of course," he tells her. For the first time, their eyes meet. "He would carry you to me."
Tenten lets out a sound that is somewhere between a snort of amusement and the beginnings of a sob. Neji is not angry, but instead gently takes her into his arms.
"Stop," he whispers again, after he's seen enough.
And she does, because honest to God, she'd do anything for him.
Their love is unconditional.
…..
A/N:I realize I have another story in this collection where it's Neji who doesn't want to tell Tenten that Lee's dead. (Oh Lee, how many times am I going to kill you?) So this is like that situation reversed. I hope you liked it!
Thank you for reading and please review!
~M.I.