[Closed Log] If I was beautiful like you, I would never be at fault.

[silkcranes]

Who; Neji and Hinata
What; Neji and Hinata have a chat and end on pretty much the same terms they always do.
When; Day before yesterday...ish?
Where; The beach.
Warnings; Nada.


She'd known that Neji wasn't going to approach it. It never seemed to occur to the Voice of God that he'd made a mistake, and in truth, she'd always believed that as well. He was Neji, and it was simply a given that he had a point. He knew more than he did, and was much more likely than she was to understand complicated topics. But sometimes the wisest were truly fools when it came to certain things, so Hinata allowed herself to cut him a little bit of slack.

It was cold down on earth, even though she'd checked and it was the first day of spring. Where were the blossoms and gentle scent of cut grass and the terrible sneezing and red noses? There were wet things landing softly on her skin, different from the wet--rain that had fallen the day that she had....that they had...

That she had been very uncooperative and failed to give sufficient feedback. Rather than respond to an ailing Neji so impulsively she should have given him his space and later remedied any harm with some Empathy and Reflecting Feelings. Hinata took in a deep breath, and coughed as something flew into her mouth. It was so cold. She coughed a couple time, just to make sure she wasn't choking. Okay, good.

There really was no understanding the obsession some angels had with the shore. The sand was sloshy underneath her bare feet and she made a note to remember to make shoes next time. Slowly, she made her way down the beach, her sight only slightly impaired by the large snowflakes slowly falling down like pieces of angel wings.

And he was there, and she didn't know what to say to him. Hello there, I really am not sorry because you were being a very mean person to me that day, but I suppose that I should have been grateful that you had called for me to begin with, but I still don't think it's my fault because you are a jerk? No.

She had to be the bigger person here. Neji was practically a grasshopper with a very small shoe size when it came to things like this. Hinata was a few feet away when she finally decided on the perfect words.

"Neji. I feel...very sad when you bleed all over because I care for you and I'm sorry for saying I hope you bleed, because I hope you never, ever bleed again, but if you do, I promise to be good and quiet and leave when you tell me to." Like a series of bullets these words flew out and assaulted Neji, and to her surprise, she meant every darn syllable.

Neji did not notice her presence before she spoke--he supposed it was because he was used to her in the way that the body was used to room-temperature water, or the way one got used to a smell after being in a room with it for several minutes. He'd actually thought of seeking her out--once, when he had woken up to hear the emptiness of Sasuke's apartment with only the faint throb of his wound to keep him company. But he wasn't really lonely, he supposed, just a little bit lacking, which wasn't unusual. He was always lacking something, but it was the first time he'd really been separated from her like this. For this long.

He hadn't gone, though. Not to look for her. She'd expressed displeasure with his presence in the universe (Next time, you can bleed. just as it seemed Sasuke had (Maybe He'll choke you with them), and Neji wondered what it was he was doing, or not doing, to make them say such things to him. It didn't hurt him, per se, but it made him want to give in to leaving them alone. Maybe in his absence, they would get what they were looking for.

Apparently not, however. As Hinata was here.

It was snowing. He knew snow now because it had appeared dusty on the streets when it was still winter. Then the buses or cars or automobiles as a whole had dirtied it, and it wasn't really snow anymore, but a thing called slush. Wet and brownish and not really all that pleasant, but still cold. What was falling from the sky seemed to be more akin to that soggy mess than the fluffy things that had fallen a few weeks earlier. But Neji knew that was because he was looking too hard. Seeing too much. The flakes still looked as soft as usual, but they were already dying a bit inside, before they even hit the ground.

He stared at the ocean for a minute more before looking at Hinata. He had come because his previous alone-time had been interrupted with a drowning girl, and the sound of it was soothing. The sand, he knew would be rough and cold against his feet, and the air was unpleasantly biting, but Neji had been prepared for that. He'd pulled on a warm shirt (gray and soft against his skin) and though his feet were covered in a part of human attire that was required. Shoes were still constricting though.

Neji turned to her, not really sure what to respond with. Was she saying that she had lied? Yet he knew that it was impossible for one such as her--lies were as foreign to angels as love was to demons. Yet she was retracting. Certainly she wasn't lying now. "All right." He said after a moment. He considered further words, perhaps I should have let you stay, but he didn't believe that. "I didn't mean to make you say that." He settled on. Whatever it was that he'd meant, it hadn't been that.

Her eyes settled on him only briefly before sailing off to eye the ocean's violent waves. The sounds were like a steady roar, eating slowly at the sand, doing away with the beautiful, or more appropriately, taking it back. Sometimes creatures didn't deserve what they got, and Nature, the keeper of beings that He had made, would take charge them, retracting what He had given.

He hadn't meant to make her say that?

Was she his puppet, that her words came forth because of his actions, the very twitch of his fingers? Yes, perhaps. She'd thought of that before. Sometimes she felt like there were strings attached everywhere and she was being watched. Was it God, carefully controling every cautious step she took, or was it Neji? Or did it matter, was there a different between the two? Too many questions, and not enough headspace. She removed them into an empty drawer in her mind and promised to forget to check back on them.

"You...it was mine," she replied, not firmly, but somewhat persistantly. It was her fault, wasn't it? Wasn't that why he hadn't come to see her? If it had been him, he should have come...so it was her. That was the only way she could grasp this. That was the only way that she could justify feeling so guilty about leaving a bleeding Neji there. It was her fault. He had depended on her, and she'd failed terribly.

Her fault.

Couldn't he at least give her that?

"Are you...you're not....bleeding. You're....better?"

Neji found a second of silence, between the crash and pull of a wave. Less than a second. A millisecond. Less than that. It was enough for him to think and enough for him to be sure that she didn't know what she was saying. Maybe she never did. Or perhaps she knew what she was saying, and why, but not why she knew. She didn't know something, surely; otherwise she wouldn't say such things. Perhaps it was in her to take the blame, to always find herself at fault. Maybe that was why, and if so, then there really was no point in having a conversation. Hinata would always take the blame and Neji would always know that. What was the point of saying it?

He shifted and put his hands into the pockets provided by the sweater. That was one thing he'd never really accepted about Fate. That life had to go on even in the face of the fact that it was already predetermined. After all, what was the point of going through the motions if the outcome was going to be the same? Why not just skip to the outcome? Surely not for God's amusement; He knew everything. The beginning, the middle, the end. For what reason, then, were they playing this game?

"I think so." He said in answer to her question. He thought of the incantations Sasuke had muttered and thought that maybe better wasn't the word, but healed. She was imprecise. But then in Heaven, one had never really had to be so careful with such wording. Everyone knew what everyone else meant, and better couldn't mean anything else.

"Do you regret that you came." Neji asked haltingly, though his voice was as sure as ever. "Down here." Before. Now. Ever.

Hinata's brow furrowed slightly, and she looked down at Neji, his wings fading into the white of the snow. Regret what? Coming to help him, to see him bloody and bleeding and hurting? Coming to walk by his side and realize for the fifth, the tenth for the millionth time that he really could only put up with her for short bursts of time?

"No," she told him, and offered no further explanation. She didn't really have one. Hinata wasn't the kind of girl who could understand things; she just felt them. She knew that being with Neji hurt more often than it felt pleasurable, but she yearned for it, the time when he would speak to her as if through a haze of disinterest, for those flashes of maybe I do care, just kidding, no, really...

For when he'd let her gingerly place her hand on his shoulder, and maybe make a small braid in his hair. That had happened once, but once left the world open for the option of twice.

So, no, how could she regret something like that? Anyway, it wasn't like she had a choice. The roar of the waves was probably the puppeteer's electric saw running, cutting wood for more puppets. Everything was a layer, hiding something more important below, and Hinata was a surface kind of girl.

Hinata slowly settled herself onto the sand next to him, feeling the cold snow seep into her dress where her knees dug into the sand. She stared at him with those eyes that asked him to pretty please, cherry on top, tell her the truth. "Who hurt you?"

A simple, straight-cut answer. One he would expect from her, because it was altruistic, a word that described her whole-heartedly. And it wasn't fake--not that it could be--but it was still something Neji couldn't understand; not the depth of it. It was what they were supposed to be, but wasn't she selfish at all? Didn't she want anything, or was she the perfect angel, the one that should have stood by His side all those years instead of Neji.

Neji frowned and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. God must have wanted something flawed to offset his brilliance. Yet why was it then that because Neji sat in Heaven, he appeared to mortals to be another deity? Maybe the Lord had created him as something to punish and control (Neji thought, at least, that made him important--not that he had ever doubted it). Maybe all of His wrath had gone into Neji, and all of his sweetness into Hinata. Maybe that was why they had been created together.

Far away from God, on earth---and Neji could see the questions again.

He looked up sharply when she asked him who had hurt him, eyes blazing in a show of light and a flash of angry protection, like a mother panther striking out at a human hunter only to save her cubs. She had not asked him before (though she had wanted to, he knew) and he had been glad. Despite his selfish reasons for wanting her to leave the clearing by the temple, he had at least partially thought of her well-being. And now, that thought flickered through his mind like lightning. The surging desire to protect through silence. Through absence.

"A weasel." He answered honestly.

Hinata tried to add all these small details together. She knew what a weasel was....or at least, she was pretty sure. It was a small animal...furry...tail...whiskers? Probably nails, the way that Neji had ended up.

But they were very small. And Neji was much bigger. There was something that was no computing in this equation. She stared at Neji, imagining a fierce battle between this angel, who had always seemed bigger than life because he basically was life....and a small rat creature.

"....Did...did the weasel have a....machine gun?" Or a large butcher knife, perhaps, but it was unlikely that a weasel would have the hands for that sort of thing. Machine guns had...well, straps to make sure the contraption didn't slip, so maybe it would be easier for a small creature such as a weasel to handle.

Even so...

What was Neji doing infuriating weasels? Had he stolen food from them? Traveled too far into wild weasel territory? Accidentally winked at a very rich weasel widow? Did weasels get married, or could widows be made without marriage...

She rubbed her temples, which were throbbing.

She had taken him literally, of course. There was no reason not to, though this didn't stop Neji from finding her question slightly amusing. He had only learned the word machine gun a short time ago, of course, but the mental picture that appeared in his mind was enough to make him wonder if he was remembering it right. Certainly a weasel couldn't hold a machine gun. The corners of Neji's mouth turned up involuntarily. No. He knew he was remembering correctly.

Looking over her concerned and confused features, Neji couldn't seem to whipe the expression from his face. It was something less than a smile, certainly, though wasn't a smirk still a smile? It didn't matter. The expression faded as he watched her rub her temples, and without asking permission, Neji swiftly removed her hands and replaced them with his own. She shouldn't have pain, but here, it manifested. Neji knew that all too easily, and he soothed the constricted capalaries with his fingers and a touch that was still Heavenly.

"There was no machine gun." He said. "The creature that attacked me was a fallen angel with the name and disposition of a weasel." The image of a weasel with a machine gun faded from his mind as he recalled the exact look on Itachi's face as he had been attacking. It had been a sick look of pleasure, not only at his own actions, but Neji's reactions as well. Neji had a feeling that they weren't done with each other, but he knew that another encounter like that could not be survived. At least not by him.

"But I didn't tell you before for a reason." He dropped his hands slowly, his gaze penetrating. "Because I don't want you to think of doing something that I would regret you doing." He couldn't figure her out, and that was why he said it. She wanted to know for a reason---not just for knowing. What good was the knowledge if you weren't going to use it?

His touch shocked her out of a state of...actually, there wasn't a word for the state that Hinata usually found herself in. A fugue state, perhaps, or one of constant haziness. For a second earth was clarity in and of itself and she didn't feel the deep chill of the water melting on her skin. Her breath hitched (causing her to realize with a jolt that she had to breathing, oh yeah...) and she forced herself not to jerk her head away.

The pain was gone, and he withdrew. She was glad, and not glad, everything was cloudy again.

Weasel.

Fallen angel. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and suddenly there were flames in her fingers, like when the words had tumbled out and fallen in a heap at Neji's feet when he'd been injured. Weasel...itachi...she was no good with names, and it didn't ring a bell. Fortunately, she knew others with more faithful memories.

She hadn't used her sword in a long while, but that was what Naruto was for...

Hinata slowly allowed her facial expression to soften, and unclenched her fists. She tilted her head to the side innocently, pushing aside the strands of hair pasted to her face by the snow. "And what....erm...exactly would you regret me doing...?"

Neji frowned and stood up, a quick graceful movement that held with it years of holy power and knowledge. If she expected him to have missed that little display of hers, she was sorely mistaken. He noticed it all. The violence in her normally soft, kind features. The way her blood quickened through her veins, the way her heart began to pump more quickly. It was as close to seeing into someone's mind without actually doing so. And Neji knew Hinata. Did not understand her, but knew her from creation. And he had not forgotten that she had once guarded the Tree of Knowledge, and had, to the sound of his voice, chased God's first and only mistake out of Eden.

"Do you wish me to be precise." He asked, his words tense as he looked down on her hair. The snow that had collected there was partially melted, and he resisted the urge to brush it away from the dark strands and from her wings. He felt his own ruffle in response, however, shucking the igloo of melt away from the pristine whiteness that should by all means be tinted a hollow gray.

"I would regret poor decision making." Neji said, "I would regret it if you did not exercise caution. I would regret it if words of mine led you to do something st--" he cut himself off, and for the first time in years did not say exactly what he meant, and settled back on repetition. "Regrettable." Which really didn't tell her anything. But she knew what he meant. She must have. Because if she did put herself in this situation, throw herself into the mix with a creature like Itachi, she would end up like him--or worse. And Neji knew he would be the one to clean up the mess, if there was anything left.

"Just take it back to Heaven with you, and forget."

Hinata gently slipped her legs out from underneath her and let the bare skin of her thighs press against the wet snowsand. She reached out with her purple fingertips (her human body had a condition, and her fingers were always just a little too cool) towards those tiny, pale toes wringling behind that curtain of snowfall.

Then why had he told her? How could he expect her to forget?

What kind of angel would she be if she heard the words from his own mouth and let them slip past her like a useful log in the current as she drowns? No, she thinks to herself, her fingertips finally touching the top of her big toe, he knows better than to think she'd let that slide. "...I...You were so bloody, Neji. And you...I can't...not care, see? I can't forget. That would mean that you...you mean nothing. If I could forget, then that means I can...I can't do it, Neji, forget it. And I can deal with regret. Regret is easy."

English translation: I'm going to do this, Neji, like it or not.

He felt his feet sink into the sand slowly, a mirror of the heat that was building up in the pit of his stomach. Had she just...?

Neji wasn't sure exactly how to respond to that. Hinata had never gone against his wishes (aside from occasionally ignoring him when he told her to go away, and by connection, stay away), and there were very few mandates that he ever made to her. But this, something important that he had bothered to say aloud--and she was ignoring it? What would she do, he wondered, when she went to face Itachi? Would she say that she had come to defend Neji's honor, to repay the blood debt that had been created upon the near defeat of Neji's human body? And when she drowned in her own blood, what would she do then?

"I see." He said finally, his face as hard as stone, his features unforgiving. A few snowflakes caught on his eyelashes and one tumbled down his cheek, giving the false appearance of tears--something innocent that burned against the heat beneath the skin.

"When it comes to regret, then...you'll know where to find me." He left. Walked away this time, so she could see his retreating form.

He was angry with her again; she could practically taste it on the roof of her mouth. Hinata's turned her head and watched until the gently falling snow faded him away into nothing. Her eyes blinked away the snow, and she wiped at the melted snow slipping down her face.

How could he...she was...he was...

When she sniffled, the cold flew up her nose, and it burned. She let out a small hurt noise that was drowned out by the angry waves, and she was glad. Hinata had to be brave if she was going to go up against the weasel without a machine gun (but probably with something sharp, an angry blade...)

Standing, she tried to see if she could make Neji out (maybe rush after and apologize...he was probably right, and she knew this in the back of her mind), but he was gone. And then, so was she.