[Dec. 1] FIC: armistice, neji/hinata, G
Series: Naruto
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I love you, Masashi Kishimoto.
Notes: For rianax's NejiHina request. I'm not quite sure what it is about these two that kicks my atmosphere-gene into action. And I'm still not impressed with my Neji; I think I make him too nice, but I'd rather err in that direction then toward Total-Bastard-Abusive!Neji. Also, one final whine, I think I'm a moron for writing a subtextual couple subtextually. With that said, I hope you find enough atypical Hyuuga interaction to not hate me, rianax. :D
Warnings: Oblique Neji/Hinata, ergo incest.
Spoilers: Up to the end of Naruto and Neji's chuunin exam fight. Although, my characterization of Neji only REALLY makes sense post-Soundnin/Sasuke-in-a-Barrel arc.
Summary: Peace at last.
ARMISTICE
Neji breathes in and breathes out, and his hands slip through the air as he slides from the shoulder strike into ts'ai position. Hiashi-sama has told him that his ts'ai is too rough. In practice, he should be able to pluck a tea leaf from a branch without damaging it, so fingertips pressed firmly together he repeats the strike, thinking of the swooping, waterfall motion Hiashi-sama makes when he performs ts'ai.
Neji suspects that Hiashi could pluck a tea leaf from a tree without rustling the tree branches at all. That he can't even do ts'ai without damaging an imaginary tea leaf bothers him to no end.
The night is hot, and even in the backyard of the main family's compound, where the shade of the magnolia trees is deep, Neji can feel the press of his shirt, warm and damp, against his chest. He breathes in and breathes out and plunges his fingers downward, fast, merciless, like a hawk in a dive.
A creaking noise from back towards the house echoes in the still, offbeat to the gentle lapping of water in the pond and the chirping buzz of the kirigirisu in the forest beyond. It's not the shy, irregular creak of the porch boards swelling and pressing against each other in the heat but the steady, purposeful creak of footsteps against beechwood planks, and Neji directs his byakugan's gaze backward to the figure on the porch.
Hinata-sama is dressed in a thin, pale peach kimono tonight, her own little concession to the weather. Most nights, he has been told, she refuses to change out of her chunnin uniform until it is time for bed or a bath, but tonight, a thin branch of white magnolias winds up the front of her kimono, dipping underneath the black obi and reappearing at the smooth juncture of her neck.
Neji watches, with his back to the porch so that he can at least pretend not to watch, as she dips to her knees and rests a tray on the porch. Carefully, she sets out two copper-coloured tea cups, and equally carefully, she picks up the teapot and pours a gentle, steaming stream into the first cup.
He lets the muscles in his back and neck relax as he comes back to rest stance. One hand falls easily to his side and the other runs across his forehead, wiping stray hairs back into order. The byakugan recedes, and the image of Hinata against his retinas slowly fades to black, although his awareness of her is a present as ever. The air is still with the earthy smell of Hinata's tea and the sweetness of the magnolias.
She doesn't look up as he crosses over to the porch, bare-feet soundless against the stone path, but she smiles faintly at her hands as if she is secretly laughing at something only she is aware of. It has taken years for Neji to understand that, even if her eyes don't meet his, that smile is meant for him.
He kneels down on the porch, so the tea set is between her and him, and folds his legs underneath himself, resting back on his heels. She does the same and pushes one of the cups towards him. After so long, Neji knows that he doesn't have to say a word of thanks, but tonight, he bows his head. Only a little, not enough to be considered a real bow, just...an acknowledgement.
"Good night, Hinata-sama," he says, cradling the cup in his hands and raising it to his mouth.
"Welcome home, Neji-niisan," she replies evenly, voice barely louder than the tentative breeze that stirs along the ground. She keeps her eyes fixed on her knees as she raises her own cup to her lips.
He takes a sip and lets the strange flavour soak into his tongue. Hinata always adds salt to her tea, and the end result is something he can never quite place except that it does, faintly, remind him of nights of endless, sweaty practice on the packed dirt floor of the courtyard. He replaces his cup on the porch and looks at Hinata.
"How are your students this year?"
She smiles another one of her secret smiles, the one she reserves only for thoughts of the children who pass in and out of her classroom every year.
"Some are brilliant," she sets her cup down without a sound. "Some need encouragement."
"To change themselves?" he asks, raising an eyebrow; it's not quite a jibe but not quite a joke either.
Her lips purse, and she rubs her foot back and forth against the porch, a sign of nervousness; Hinata has always sought tactical reassurance when uncomfortable. She used to rub her bottom lip with her thumb, but years of trying to school away these noticeable sign has driven them down the line of her body, from hands to feet, where they are only noticeable to those who watch for them.
"I would say to realize they do not have to change, Neji-niisan."
To this, he scoffs and heaves his shoulders in dismissal, wondering at the same time if she even suspects how proud he is to hear her say that. She probably does; Hinata may be the worse ninja - and that largely because of compassion, which, Neji now knows, is not something to be ashamed of - but she has always been better at understanding people.
"You should have told me you were back," she says after a silence. Her voice is too soft for this to be an official reprimand, a careful modulation. They both have become very good at being careful. No more misunderstandings.
Neji drains his cup and shrugs. "Hiashi-sama knew. I thought he would have told you."
"No." Her fingers trace the rim of the little pottery cup, and she looks off into the forest beyond the compound. Neji knows, although he’s never been told, that Hinata was never allowed to play in woods as a child unlike he was.
She may still believe that he has been the one to suffer most at the hands of the main family, but he has never been convinced. From the main family, he has received purpose, ambition, drive, will. He can see, where she cannot, the choices that lie in front of him: jounin or ANBU, remain in Konoha or travel as far as Hidden Sand. His limits begin only where his ambition ends, and his freedom ends only where he chooses to let it.
He doubts Hinata can say the same, and it makes him regretful and furious at once.
He clears his throat, and she jumps a bit, pulling her attention back from wherever it had wandered. He holds out his hand, palm up, and wordlessly, but with a small smile of thanks, she places her empty cup in the center of his palm.
"When do you leave again?" she asks.
Neji pauses to adapt to this change in conversation. "My squad leaves for Earth Country the day after tomorrow," he says and places her cup and the little teapot on the tray while waiting for her reaction.
"Hm," is all she says to begin with, pulling the tray towards her. Eventually, she adds, "Do you ever get tired of being so far away from home?"
There is a directness in her voice which he cannot remember hearing before, and it makes him hesitate. Waveringly, she gets to her feet, with the tray cradled in the crook of her arm. He looks up at her and frowns just slightly.
"This isn't my home, Hinata-sama," he says finally. Which should have been obvious, and Neji gets the feeling that he, for once, is not seeing something that to Hinata is very clear.
She stands before him and shakes her head in a rare firm denial. A wind has picked up, and now the air smells like coming rain, thick ozone, and the dark smell of Neji's sweat drying against his shirt. He gets to his feet as well, still not comfortable in being below her, and she meets his eyes directly for the first time this night. They are standing face to face, equals as he has always and never believed them to be.
"It could be your home, Neji-niisan," she says slowly, and a smile plays in the corner of her eyes. "Should you want it."
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I love you, Masashi Kishimoto.
Notes: For rianax's NejiHina request. I'm not quite sure what it is about these two that kicks my atmosphere-gene into action. And I'm still not impressed with my Neji; I think I make him too nice, but I'd rather err in that direction then toward Total-Bastard-Abusive!Neji. Also, one final whine, I think I'm a moron for writing a subtextual couple subtextually. With that said, I hope you find enough atypical Hyuuga interaction to not hate me, rianax. :D
Warnings: Oblique Neji/Hinata, ergo incest.
Spoilers: Up to the end of Naruto and Neji's chuunin exam fight. Although, my characterization of Neji only REALLY makes sense post-Soundnin/Sasuke-in-a-Barrel arc.
Summary: Peace at last.
ARMISTICE
Neji breathes in and breathes out, and his hands slip through the air as he slides from the shoulder strike into ts'ai position. Hiashi-sama has told him that his ts'ai is too rough. In practice, he should be able to pluck a tea leaf from a branch without damaging it, so fingertips pressed firmly together he repeats the strike, thinking of the swooping, waterfall motion Hiashi-sama makes when he performs ts'ai.
Neji suspects that Hiashi could pluck a tea leaf from a tree without rustling the tree branches at all. That he can't even do ts'ai without damaging an imaginary tea leaf bothers him to no end.
The night is hot, and even in the backyard of the main family's compound, where the shade of the magnolia trees is deep, Neji can feel the press of his shirt, warm and damp, against his chest. He breathes in and breathes out and plunges his fingers downward, fast, merciless, like a hawk in a dive.
A creaking noise from back towards the house echoes in the still, offbeat to the gentle lapping of water in the pond and the chirping buzz of the kirigirisu in the forest beyond. It's not the shy, irregular creak of the porch boards swelling and pressing against each other in the heat but the steady, purposeful creak of footsteps against beechwood planks, and Neji directs his byakugan's gaze backward to the figure on the porch.
Hinata-sama is dressed in a thin, pale peach kimono tonight, her own little concession to the weather. Most nights, he has been told, she refuses to change out of her chunnin uniform until it is time for bed or a bath, but tonight, a thin branch of white magnolias winds up the front of her kimono, dipping underneath the black obi and reappearing at the smooth juncture of her neck.
Neji watches, with his back to the porch so that he can at least pretend not to watch, as she dips to her knees and rests a tray on the porch. Carefully, she sets out two copper-coloured tea cups, and equally carefully, she picks up the teapot and pours a gentle, steaming stream into the first cup.
He lets the muscles in his back and neck relax as he comes back to rest stance. One hand falls easily to his side and the other runs across his forehead, wiping stray hairs back into order. The byakugan recedes, and the image of Hinata against his retinas slowly fades to black, although his awareness of her is a present as ever. The air is still with the earthy smell of Hinata's tea and the sweetness of the magnolias.
She doesn't look up as he crosses over to the porch, bare-feet soundless against the stone path, but she smiles faintly at her hands as if she is secretly laughing at something only she is aware of. It has taken years for Neji to understand that, even if her eyes don't meet his, that smile is meant for him.
He kneels down on the porch, so the tea set is between her and him, and folds his legs underneath himself, resting back on his heels. She does the same and pushes one of the cups towards him. After so long, Neji knows that he doesn't have to say a word of thanks, but tonight, he bows his head. Only a little, not enough to be considered a real bow, just...an acknowledgement.
"Good night, Hinata-sama," he says, cradling the cup in his hands and raising it to his mouth.
"Welcome home, Neji-niisan," she replies evenly, voice barely louder than the tentative breeze that stirs along the ground. She keeps her eyes fixed on her knees as she raises her own cup to her lips.
He takes a sip and lets the strange flavour soak into his tongue. Hinata always adds salt to her tea, and the end result is something he can never quite place except that it does, faintly, remind him of nights of endless, sweaty practice on the packed dirt floor of the courtyard. He replaces his cup on the porch and looks at Hinata.
"How are your students this year?"
She smiles another one of her secret smiles, the one she reserves only for thoughts of the children who pass in and out of her classroom every year.
"Some are brilliant," she sets her cup down without a sound. "Some need encouragement."
"To change themselves?" he asks, raising an eyebrow; it's not quite a jibe but not quite a joke either.
Her lips purse, and she rubs her foot back and forth against the porch, a sign of nervousness; Hinata has always sought tactical reassurance when uncomfortable. She used to rub her bottom lip with her thumb, but years of trying to school away these noticeable sign has driven them down the line of her body, from hands to feet, where they are only noticeable to those who watch for them.
"I would say to realize they do not have to change, Neji-niisan."
To this, he scoffs and heaves his shoulders in dismissal, wondering at the same time if she even suspects how proud he is to hear her say that. She probably does; Hinata may be the worse ninja - and that largely because of compassion, which, Neji now knows, is not something to be ashamed of - but she has always been better at understanding people.
"You should have told me you were back," she says after a silence. Her voice is too soft for this to be an official reprimand, a careful modulation. They both have become very good at being careful. No more misunderstandings.
Neji drains his cup and shrugs. "Hiashi-sama knew. I thought he would have told you."
"No." Her fingers trace the rim of the little pottery cup, and she looks off into the forest beyond the compound. Neji knows, although he’s never been told, that Hinata was never allowed to play in woods as a child unlike he was.
She may still believe that he has been the one to suffer most at the hands of the main family, but he has never been convinced. From the main family, he has received purpose, ambition, drive, will. He can see, where she cannot, the choices that lie in front of him: jounin or ANBU, remain in Konoha or travel as far as Hidden Sand. His limits begin only where his ambition ends, and his freedom ends only where he chooses to let it.
He doubts Hinata can say the same, and it makes him regretful and furious at once.
He clears his throat, and she jumps a bit, pulling her attention back from wherever it had wandered. He holds out his hand, palm up, and wordlessly, but with a small smile of thanks, she places her empty cup in the center of his palm.
"When do you leave again?" she asks.
Neji pauses to adapt to this change in conversation. "My squad leaves for Earth Country the day after tomorrow," he says and places her cup and the little teapot on the tray while waiting for her reaction.
"Hm," is all she says to begin with, pulling the tray towards her. Eventually, she adds, "Do you ever get tired of being so far away from home?"
There is a directness in her voice which he cannot remember hearing before, and it makes him hesitate. Waveringly, she gets to her feet, with the tray cradled in the crook of her arm. He looks up at her and frowns just slightly.
"This isn't my home, Hinata-sama," he says finally. Which should have been obvious, and Neji gets the feeling that he, for once, is not seeing something that to Hinata is very clear.
She stands before him and shakes her head in a rare firm denial. A wind has picked up, and now the air smells like coming rain, thick ozone, and the dark smell of Neji's sweat drying against his shirt. He gets to his feet as well, still not comfortable in being below her, and she meets his eyes directly for the first time this night. They are standing face to face, equals as he has always and never believed them to be.
"It could be your home, Neji-niisan," she says slowly, and a smile plays in the corner of her eyes. "Should you want it."