(SAKURA)

I looked up as the door creaked open, and there he was—Hyuuga Neji, just as I remembered him, all serious and disciplined. Always on time. He moved with that quiet grace. His long hair flowed over his shoulders like a dark waterfall, framing his striking face. The Konoha forehead protector sat proudly on his brow, and those trademark white eyes were focused and unreadable, just like before. For a moment, I just couldn't help but stare—he was alive, whole, a living reminder of everything that could change in this timeline.

It had been seven years since I'd last seen him during the war when he died—a memory that still felt fresh and painful to everyone who missed him. He was the quiet genius of the Hyuuga clan, someone who was supposed to be six feet under in my timeline. His death had created a huge void within our group of friends back in Konoha, but here he was—alive and well. It felt strange and comforting all at once.

We had been through so much together. Our relationship had changed from almost being enemies to something more like friendship—a complicated bond developed through fire and battle. He was the same guy who once tried to take out his own cousin during the Chunin Exams but later became someone you could trust with your life. We hadn't teamed up often before his death— just a few missions scattered here and there—but each one left its mark on me. Sure, he could be a total jerk at times, which drove me crazy, but those moments were often balanced by flashes of brilliance that helped us win battles together. You couldn't overlook his loyalty to Konoha; it's hard not to miss someone like him when they're gone.

Neji took his seat across from me, looking perfectly composed as always.

"Hi, Neji," I said, trying to sound casual, even though my heart was racing a little. "It's good to see you… I mean—outside of those life-or-death missions." I flashed him a smile that felt a bit too wide and awkward.

He nodded slightly, his face still hard to read. "Likewise," he replied in that precise tone of his. "Though I doubt this counts as casual. A hospital hardly makes for pleasant meetings." Every word from him felt like it had weight.

I let out a soft chuckle to ease the tension of his straightforwardness. "True enough! But hey, these medical checkups are important—even for someone like you who seems in top shape all the time," I gestured towards his medical file. "Not everyone can brag about having a perfect health record. Some of us might be a little jealous."

His brow arched slightly—was that amusement? "Hardly perfect," he countered with a hint of humility in his voice. "But I take care of myself. It's necessary to maintain discipline."

"That you do," I agreed, flipping through his file for a second before putting it aside. "Guess that comes with being a Hyuuga, huh? No wonder the nurses talk about you like you're some mythical creature."

This time, I swore there was a faintest hint of a smirk. But just as quickly, it disappeared, replaced by his usual stoicism. "Are we actually going to discuss my health?" he asked, sounding like he was already tired of me.

I stifled a laugh, holding up my hands like I was surrendering. "All right, all right—we'll get started in just a minute. Should've known you wouldn't be into some friendly banter." He nodded slightly, the gesture polite enough, but still so Neji.

"Now, let's get you into that hospital robe while I prep everything," I said as he moved toward the changing area. While he got ready, I busied myself with preparing for the exam.

"You know how this goes—standard procedure," I called out while glancing at my clipboard. He stepped behind the curtain and started putting on that hospital robe.

With him now settled on the examination table, suddenly hyper-aware of just how surreal it felt to see him here, alive and well. Was this really happening? As I conducted the examination, my hands moved deftly over his chiseled physique, checking off each item on my list with precision. Seriously—how could someone be so fit? I tried not to stare at him too much. That Hyuuga training must've worked wonders because he looked incredible! The medics had certainly fought over the chance to perform his checkup, and it wasn't hard to see why.

"Vitals are good, muscle tone is perfect... reflexes are still top-notch," I murmured while trying my best to keep it professional—because hey, I'm a professional! The Hyuuga answered my questions with his typical straightforwardness, brief and to the point. A nod here, a monosyllabic 'yes' or 'no' there–to keep things moving along as if he was challenging me to dig deeper.

Once we finished up with the exam, I handed him the medical report I'd filled out neatly. His eyes clouded over and his expression turned guarded felt significant somehow.

"Everything looks great," I said cheerfully but then added with caution, "However, your clan has requested a medical assessment of your reproductive organs. Don't worry; one of my male colleagues will take care of that part later."

His response was curt, his voice low and even. "Alright." But for a quick second, I saw some frustration in his eyes before he shoved it down behind that calm facade.

I understood that frustration all too well. The Hyuuga clan's rigorous marriage planning process was enough to frustrate anyone. Every member was subjected to go thorough the evaluations—all in the name of guaranteeing the health and well-being of future offspring. It made sense on paper, but in practice? I couldn't imagine the pressure he was under.

"You're in perfect health," I said to him, trying to keep my voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts swirling around in my head. "Honestly, you might be setting a new standard for shinobi fitness."

He nodded slightly at that. "It's necessary to maintain discipline," he replied in that same flat tone.

"Right, of course," I said while fidgeting with my clipboard like it could somehow help me gather my thoughts.

I watched as Neji rose from his seat to change. He stepped out, smoothing out his Jonin outfit with the kind of focus that showed he did this all the time. He looked ready to head back into whatever serious life awaited him outside. Part of me knew I should've just let him walk out of the office. But then again, my mission goals nagged at me—random encounters weren't enough during these time-travel trips! What if this was my only chance? Teaming up with him seemed like a brilliant plan; staying close could really help and make my mission easier.

I felt a lump form in my throat, but I swallowed it down and forced myself to speak. Instead of letting him leave, I called out, "Neji, wait!" My voice came out stronger than I expected.

He paused mid-step and turned around, that intense gaze of his that always made me feel like he could see right through me.

"Yes?" His tone was sharp but still polite enough.

"There's… something I need to discuss with you," I said slowly. "It's not exactly medical. It's more… personal. Something… a little unconventional." Okay, here goes nothing. "This is going to sound totally crazy, but just hear me out. You know about marriages of convenience, right? Clan expectations and all that?" I tried gauging his reaction.

"I have," he replied simply, keeping it neutral. I noticed how he shifted slightly, a mix of curiosity and suspicion crossing his face.

I bit my lip, preparing myself for the next part. "Well… I was thinking—we could considered a marriage of convenience. Just on paper, of course!" The words felt insane as they left my mouth.

Neji's reaction was immediate. A prominent scowl crossed his face and his white eyes narrowed into that piercing glare that could cut through anything. "A marriage of convenience?" he repeated, clearly testing the absurdity of my proposal. "You can't be serious, Haruno."

"I am! But it's not like—a real marriage," I rushed to clarify, hoping to fend off his skepticism. "Just a contract. An arrangement. You know how our clans can be. I'm sure the Hyuuga elders aren't making your life any easier either. They are probably hounding you to settle down and produce heirs. And my parents… they won't stop bugging me about it either. I'm not ready for that yet; my career comes first. This would just be a way to keep our clans and everyone else off our backs. Nothing emotional, nothing serious; just a practical solution."

Mr. Stoic's expression hardened as his pale eyes bored into mine, the weight of his disapproval almost palpable.

"You expect me to entertain this idea simply because it is 'practical'?" He said, turning to walk away. My heart sank, thinking I'd blown it.

"Neji, wait! Just hear me out, okay?" I urged, stepping forward as he turned his back on me. "I'm not asking for anything real here! This would just be… a cover! A contract—a formality! No strings attached! You get to dodge whatever match the elders have lined up for you—Hyuuga Hanabi or whoever else they're considering—and I get my parents off my back too! It's a win-win!"

The mention of the younger heiress seemed to hit a nerve, he froze mid-step. Tension crept into his shoulders as he slowly turned back to face me, something flickering in his expression—annoyance or maybe reluctant acknowledgement? It was hard to tell, but at least I knew I had caught his attention.

"You have five minutes to convince me," he said coldly, his challenge hanging in the air.

"I-I know this sounds crazy," I admitted, my voice softening. "I wouldn't be asking if I didn't think it was the best option for both of us. At least… think about it? This could give you some breathing room. No clan meddling, no awkward encounters—just freedom. And honestly? I could use some of that, too."

"What's your motive?"

I bit the inside of my cheek and replied firmly, "I don't have any hidden agendas; I'm not into you or anything, okay?" I winced at how awkward this sounded, but I pushed through anyway. "I'm still… holding out for Sasuke-kun—so there's that." Ugh! How bad am I at lying?

"If you're done, what makes you think I'd even consider such a ridiculous proposition?"

"Because it gives you control," I said, my voice steady despite her nerves. "And, let's be honest, Neji—it's not like we've got better options. We can support each other without the weight of traditional marriage hanging over us. We draw up the terms, no obligations beyond keeping up appearances!"

The silence stretched between us. I could see him processing my words, his expression heavy and unreadable. For a moment, I thought he might simply walk out. Then, with a barely audible sigh, he returned to his seat with deliberate movements.

"I'll listen," Neji said at last, his tone sharp and calculated. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest while keeping those piercing eyes locked on me. "Explain the terms."

Honestly? This might have been the closest thing to an agreement I'd ever get from the Hyuuga. Who knew it'd be this hard convincing someone who once tried to dismantle family ties that maybe pretending to tie one with me wouldn't be so bad?

He was as stoic as they come, and I'd never heard of him having any stable relationships. Everyone in my time knew he ended up marrying within his clan before all the war chaos went down. He would eventually marry his cousin Hanabi, but things went south fast after that.

Teaming up with me could save him from that whole disaster. No more hospital visits for those cursed headaches caused by his wife or messy divorces that everyone would gossip about. I had a strong track record as support in battle—definitely better than whatever historical mess he was headed for. This was his chance to take a different path.

(NEJI)

I had always prided myself on navigating the chaos of the shinobi world with clarity. But when Haruno Sakura approached me with her outlandish idea about a contract marriage, an unease settled in. Was this really what we needed? Or was it some complicated scheme I hadn't seen through yet?

Sure, it was common for young shinobi like us to marry early—to secure emotional support or whatever they said. I wasn't ready for that kind of commitment just yet, but as my clan pressured me to settle down before turning seventeen, the weight of their expectations felt stifling. They were relentless about preserving our bloodline and keeping our 'strong' genes intact, expecting me to marry within our clan. To me, marriage started to resemble more of a shackle than a union.

Then there was Hanabi, my cousin. Maybe it was because I was one of her training instructors—or perhaps it was something else entirely. We were supposed to be focused on enhancing her mastery of the Byakugan skills. My young cousin was undeniably talented—one moment fiercely competitive and the next treating me like just another training dummy. But after that one incident where she miscalculated a move and crashed into me… things took an awkward turn when she kissed me! Hanabi felt almost like a sister to me; kissing her just seemed wrong.

The council began advocating for an engagement between us. Hanabi didn't even blink at the suggestion. To her, it felt like a trophy in some twisted competition against her sister Hinata—it was tough to discern if she actually liked me or just wanted to claim victory in this rivalry. Back in our childhood days, she used to boss me around without mercy. Regardless of her intentions, stepping into this arrangement would mean giving her power over me—she could use the caged bird seal against me whenever she pleased.

Then there was Tenten—my teammate and one of the few people I genuinely enjoyed being around. Lately, she had been giving me looks that stirred up confusion and complicated our already delicate dynamic. The last thing I wanted was to jeopardize our teamwork or ruin our friendship over fleeting emotions or misunderstandings.

So here I was, stuck between skepticism and acceptance.

"It's simple, really. Just a contract, nothing more," Haruno said, straightening up. Her green eyes sparkled with earnestness as she laid out her proposal like it was the most casual thing in the world. "We make it official enough to keep everyone else satisfied, but keep things the same between us. Just two friends helping each other out. We go on living our lives as usual, and everyone else leaves us alone. No strings attached. No complications."

"Are you sure about this?" I asked, my gaze steady on hers—intense and analytical—like I was trying to map out every possible outcome of this crazy decision.

"Absolutely!" she shot back with a confidence that almost made me believe her. "This whole thing has an expiration date anyway. It's not forever—maybe three years tops? You can back out anytime you want."

Three years felt like an eternity when it came to such arrangements. A part of me was still unsure, but there was something about the idea of navigating through this together that intrigued me—I found myself tempted by the possibility of gaining some control over my own fate amidst all this disorder. I studied her for a moment longer, weighing my options carefully before finally relenting with a reluctant nod.

"Fine. But let's be clear about one thing, Haruno—this is strictly business," I warned. "Don't expect anything more."

"Got it! You've got yourself a deal, Hyuuga." She extended her hand toward me.

"Don't make me regret this," I cautioned, still feeling that familiar pit of suspicion settling in my stomach.

"You won't. Trust me." There it was—that word: trust.

Something felt off about all of this. Neither of us really knew each other that well. Life had taught me one essential lesson above all: trust no one too easily—even those who seemed well-intentioned like Haruno. Maybe it was just my judgment, shaped by years spent in the shadows of expectations and responsibilities as a Hyuuga. Yet, there was something oddly comforting about our half-trust agreement. It worked like this: if either of us found someone we genuinely cared about during the three years—or if Sasuke Uchiha miraculously returned—the contract would dissolve without any drama or hard feelings.

"Only because I'm curious how you're going to explain this when Uchiha shows up," I shot back, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

What was Haruno really after? Curiosity had always been my guiding light through murky waters; surely finding out how all of this would play out wouldn't be hard. For now, though, I was set to embrace this unusual arrangement with an expiration date. It offered me some breathing room—definitely better than any other options anyway. After all, what harm could come from exploring this strange partnership?

Next chapter... The Wedding

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