Point Me Towards the Sun

There had been a time when Neji had assumed that veteran ninja eventually became desensitized to death. It was a perfectly logical consequence, he had reasoned, of years or even decades spent in an occupation that inflicted death no less often than a merchant traded goods or an artisan crafted items, an occupation where one's own survival could never be assured.

However, with every mission that he had completed, every ally that he had fought alongside, and even every enemy he had clashed with, that assumption had gradually become weaker and weaker, until finally, the war had dealt it a coup de grâce.

There had been a time when Neji had nearly killed his cousin Hinata by his own hand, only to be foiled at the last second by the intervention of his superiors. She was a disgrace, he had rationalized, and she was fated to die such an ignominious death.

However, with her newfound motivation and confidence, Hinata had, by her own efforts, managed to pull herself out of her ignominy, little by little, until finally, the war had ensured that her death would be the most glorious of all.

Reflecting on these two thoughts after the previous day's memorial ceremony had kept Neji awake for most of the night and left him with a great deal of unease. His cousin's pivotal sacrifice – putting herself in the way of a fatal attack meant for Naruto – had created the necessary opening to turn the tide of the final battle. Nine more of his relatives had also perished in the course of the conflict, and a further two had been severely debilitated, totalling around a quarter of the clan's combat power. By all measures, it was the largest single loss ever suffered by the Hyūga, but clan traditions dictated only a minimal act of remembrance. The names of the fallen were read, and then a minute of silence was observed. There was nothing more to it.

Grief had no place in the Hyūga Clan; to grieve was to show weakness, which was unacceptable.

Neji knew that after a while, the only indication that Hinata or any of the others had ever existed would be the dusty portraits on the back wall of the family shrine. Nobody would be happy with this, yet nobody would have the courage or the means to openly challenge it. Emotions were to be kept private and dealt with alone. It was simply what the Hyūga had always done.

The mission was a straightforward one: a diplomatic visit to the Hidden Waterfall Village, one of the minor factions which had not joined the Allied Forces or participated in the war. Shikamaru and Temari were to lead the team, symbolizing the close relationship between the Leaf and its oldest ally, the Sand. Originally, the mission plan had been for all three members of Team Guy to tag along, but Lee could not be convinced to leave the side of their sensei, who had not yet been discharged from the hospital. This left only Neji and Tenten to round out the squad.

From the beginning, Neji had suspected that his selection for this mission had not been made with entirely benign intentions. Because word of the Hyūga Clan's heavy casualties in the war had inevitably spread, its strongest member's participation in a highly visible mission would amount to a subtle show of force, a sign that it remained unbowed. In any case, Neji was quite thankful for a reprieve, even if temporary, from the dismal atmosphere that had permeated the Hyūga compound in the days since the war's end.

The team set off in mid-morning, just as the first breezes of early summer had begun to sweep aside the dampness left by several days of intermittent rain. Under optimal conditions, the journey from the Leaf to the Waterfall could be made in a day and a half, but realistically it required almost two full days. Therefore, except in the most urgent scenarios, an overnight stop somewhere along the way was expected; by consensus, they made camp shortly before nightfall, a few kilometres short of the international border at a spot where coniferous forests ended and gently sloping grasslands began.

It was a far more exposed position than Neji was accustomed to, but with the alliance of the Five Great Nations having survived its trial of fire, the danger of being ambushed or otherwise caught up in hostilities had become negligible, so they had the luxury of forgoing concealment and defensibility in favour of comfort. Nonetheless, Neji found himself periodically scanning the surroundings with his Byakugan even though there was no tactical or operational reason to do so. The familiar routine helped him to stay focused on the present and prevented his mind from drifting too much.

Tenten had likewise tasked herself with deploying traps around the perimeter of their campsite. After putting the finishing touches on her defences, she unrolled her bedding next to his and plopped herself down, letting out a contented sigh as she lazily stretched her arms. It suddenly became clear to Neji how much he had missed the presence of her familiar chakra signature after having been separated for all but the very end of the war. Being at her side again was at once comforting and invigorating, like returning to a calm and sunlit sky after navigating through a relentless thunderstorm in which all of his efforts had to be focused on merely remaining aloft.

The cerise glow of the sunset soon disappeared beneath the western horizon, and not too long after that, Shikamaru and Temari's whispered bickering also subsided, leaving nothing but the occasional hoot of an owl for the gentle wind to carry. Neji laid on his back, leaving the flap of his sleeping bag partially open. From this perspective, innumerable stars sparkled all across his field of vision, as if he had opened a window to the universe.

He wanted nothing more than to spend all night contemplating the heavens, but weeks of inadequate rest had allowed fatigue to easily catch up with him, and he capitulated to the allure of sleep within minutes.

The Hidden Waterfall Village was a decent place, Neji supposed as he took in everything with his all-seeing eyes. Judging by its architecture and infrastructure, it was somewhat less technologically advanced than his own homeland, but its people seemed to be industrious and disciplined, going about their business without paying much attention to the visiting foreign ninja. The gate guards, to their credit, personally escorted Neji and his teammates to their assigned accommodation.

Having been allocated two rooms by their hosts, all four members of the team implicitly understood that Neji and Tenten should take one while Shikamaru and Temari took the other. They split up at the top of the stairs, since their rooms were on different sides of the building, but not before Temari pulled Neji and Tenten aside to remind them of their schedule.

"The daimyo and his council will be hosting an official reception for us at six o'clock in his residence," she explained, handing a copy of a small scroll to Neji. "I don't think you two are ever late to anything, so it'll just be Shikamaru's lazy ass that I need to worry about."

An annoyed tsk came from behind them, prompting an instant retort from the Sand kunoichi. Neji retreated, knowing better than to involve himself in such interactions.

In Neji's opinion, the daimyo's residence was easily summed up in one word: exotic. While it was smaller than and not nearly as opulent as the one back in the Land of Fire, its architects had clearly considered harmony with the surrounding environment to be of the highest priority. The complex's bamboo-framed, thatch-roofed event hall was cantilevered over the village's central lake and open on three sides to allow an unobstructed panoramic view over the water. The daimyo himself, flanked by his immediate family and highest ranking subordinates, occupied a long table at the midpoint of the furthest edge, which commanded the grandest vista of his domain.

As the guests of honour, Neji, Tenten, Shikamaru, and Temari had been given a table adjacent to the daimyo's own. Following welcome speeches by the daimyo and the senior jōnin representing the Waterfall's ninja forces, an elaborate seven-course dinner was served, and then, almost as soon as the dessert plates had been cleared away, came Neji's least favourite part, networking.

Much to his teammates' surprise and his own displeasure, Neji quickly garnered an unprecedented amount of interest from the Waterfall ninja. As it turned out, he had received high praise from their last jinchūriki, Fū, and her escorts for his actions after they had crossed paths at the Chūnin Exams, making him somewhat of a household name locally. Virtually every single attendee at the event, from newly minted young genin to grizzled old-timer jōnin, wanted to drop by to chat with him.

Being from a prestigious clan with deep-rooted traditions, Neji had been trained in formal etiquette since childhood and was more than proficient enough to hold his own at a social function such as this. What he had not expected, however, was to become the centre of attention, because normally his icy demeanour made him appear unapproachable and discouraged most people from talking to him. Now, he was faced with a constant stream of admirers who were keenly interested in his heroic exploits during the war, but largely ignorant of the fact that said war had cost him a dozen relatives, including a cousin who had practically been a sister.

As the evening dragged on, Neji felt himself becoming more and more inundated by the conversations. Both Shikamaru and Temari had long since wandered off to mingle at other tables. It was only Tenten who stayed by his side and increasingly came to his aid.

Tenten, whose tale of Lee and Guy's antics elicited a laugh from even the daimyo's stern jōnin advisor.

Tenten, who warded off two excessively flirtatious female chūnin with a single penetrating look.

Tenten, whose wit never seemed to miss any mark; Tenten, whose vivacity shone as brightly as a polished blade; Tenten, whose graciousness proved to be nearly as inexhaustible as her arsenal.

Tenten, who understood Neji more than anyone else could, and who always had his back no matter the situation.

Not until it was nearing midnight and the venue had mostly emptied out did Neji and his teammates decide that it was appropriate to take their leave. Fortunately, the accommodation that they had been provided was located just two blocks away from the main gate of the daimyo's residence, so they were able to return in no time.

Years of carrying out missions in faraway lands had inevitably meant countless nights spent at austere bivouacs in unfamiliar or even hostile surroundings, taking turns sleeping and keeping watch. Thus, as far as Neji was concerned, any form of lodging with a roof, clean beds, and hot water for showering was downright luxurious. But although the Waterfall's guest quarters exceeded those standards by a wide margin, Neji could neither manage to make himself entirely comfortable there, nor accurately pinpoint the reason why.

Perhaps it was because the room, designed for four people, was too large for two and consequently felt empty, or because the placement of the beds, one in each corner, resulted in an unnatural physical distance between himself and Tenten. Back in their genin days, such things would have been minutiae of little relevance. When and why had they become important to him?

Neji deferred answering this question and set it aside to revisit later. Surely, drawing a conclusion too hastily would be counterproductive and run the risk of overlooking key details.

Letting his still-damp hair fan out across the pillow, Neji quickly laid down onto his bed. After a night of nonstop socializing, he had insufficient energy left to do much else, even to sit up and meditate. His brain, on the other hand, defied his attempts to make it rest; it was free for the first time in months, liberated from the constraints of imperatives and responsibilities, because he, for once, had nothing to do or to plan ahead for.

There were no more active threats to confront. No more pending missions in his backlog. No more distractions vying for his attention.

And now, with only Tenten present – not his friends, not his relatives, not his comrades, only Tenten – there were no more appearances to uphold.

In a single decisive instant, the subconscious barriers that had held under immense pressure for so long disintegrated all at once, unleashing a torrent of suppressed memories that rapidly flooded every corner of Neji's mind. Memories of Hinata in childhood, in the Academy, as a genin, and as a chūnin. Memories of his fallen branch house cousins, who had tasted freedom only in their last moments of life. Memories of unspeakable apocalyptic scenes from a war more terrible than any other the world had ever known.

While Neji had long prided himself on his mastery of an absolute defence, that power was of no use against his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him from the inside. The first of many tears rolled down his cheek, leaving a dark blotch on the white bedsheet like blood dripping from a wound onto dry earth. An audible sob immediately followed, forcing him to gasp for breath as if there was a chance that he could somehow claw back the sound from the air before it carried across the room.

"Neji?" Tenten asked, the concern in her voice narrowly eclipsing the disbelief.

I'm okay, Neji reflexively tried to reply, but the words failed to materialize, and another sob instead escaped in their place.

Without any further delay, Tenten abandoned the scrolls that she had been organizing on her bedside table and darted over to pull Neji into a hug, running one hand through his hair gently when he buried his face into her shoulder. Her hands were by no means soft or feminine; on the contrary, they were strong and calloused from almost a decade of handling every type of weapon imaginable, ranging from the most mundane kunai to the legendary Bashōsen. Moving his own hands, one on each side, under Tenten's arms and around her back, Neji returned her embrace, a bit awkwardly at first, but then as naturally as if they had already practiced it a thousand times.

There had been a time when Neji had concealed his emotional vulnerability as painstakingly as he had the existence of his Byakugan's blind spot. Nothing could be gained by revealing either, he had maintained, because others would only use that knowledge against him.

However, Tenten had one day inadvertently discovered his blind spot during a routine training session, and rather than using it against him, she had taken it upon herself to guard it by any means necessary, until finally, he could hardly even imagine being on the battlefield without her.

Of course, Tenten could not have had prior knowledge that a blind spot existed in the Byakugan. An emotional vulnerability, on the other hand, was a different type of secret, a secret which everyone had without exception. Tenten had certainly understood that Neji had to have one, but she had never pushed him to divulge it in all the years that they had known each other – he was currently doing so entirely of his own accord, because he felt no need to withhold it from her anymore.

Why had he begun to feel this way? It was only later, after he had wiped away the last of his tears and put his thoughts in order, that he realized what had changed.

He could no longer imagine being without her, not just in combat, but in any aspect of his life.

For as long as Neji could remember, the communal areas in the Hyūga compound had been spartan and nondescript. While he and many of his relatives freely decorated the insides of their own bedrooms, nobody really had both the authority and the propensity to extend that to common spaces.

Neji himself did not know whether or not he was actually allowed to redecorate the corridors of the residential wing, but Tenten had managed to convince him that it would be much more straightforward to simply carry out his plan than to ask his uncle or the elders for permission first. They went to each window one by one; she would first unseal a vase from one of her scrolls and place it in the alcove, and then he would fill it with flowers, carefully arranging the petals in such a way that a single sunflower would form the centrepiece of a crown of white lilies.

When they were two-thirds done with the second floor, the panel door near the southernmost corner slid open and Hiashi Hyūga shuffled out, uncharacteristically looking as though he had not slept properly in days. Indeed, Neji would have had difficulty picturing his uncle with dark circles under his eyes if he had not been standing there before him.

Apparently preferring to take his time to contemplate Neji and Tenten's handiwork, Hiashi was unexpectedly slow to approach the pair, and when he did, his pace was restrained and his steps measured. Neji tensed involuntarily. He had not been expecting to have to explain himself so soon, since he had never thought his perpetually busy uncle capable of staying cooped up in his quarters until well past lunchtime.

In the few seconds before Hiashi came to a stop in front of him, Neji almost instinctively wished that Tenten would say something first, but he quickly extinguished that irresponsible desire, knowing that it would be neither fair nor reasonable to put her in that position. However, it was his uncle, voice atypically quiet but still firm, who broke the silence with exceptionally rare words.

"Thank you."

After Hiashi had gone, Neji started to turn his attention back to the remaining part of his task, but as Tenten unfurled a new scroll, her hand brushed against his, and he took hold of it without hesitation.

Author's notes:

It's been an extremely long time (six and a half years, to be precise) since I've written anything about this pairing, but rest assured, I've never stopped shipping Neji and Tenten.

The cover image is by the Pixiv user Metha.