NessieGG's Fanfiction

Mon, 12 Jan 2009 22:30:56 GMT

Title: In The Library During A Storm
Author: nessiegg
Theme: Scholar
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Shikamaru x Temari
Rating: K
Warning: Disjointed writing :P
Summary: Oxford graduate Shikamaru Nara travels to Paris on behalf of his family and encounters a curious woman in his host's house.

It had not been a long voyage, due to benign weather. The sea, so smooth and green, had made Shikamara Nara briefly recall the glass wine bottles Ino used to bring him whenever he had been sick in childhood. Each bottle, helpfully emptied of their contents by her father, had always contained the brightest arrangement of flowers. He had repaid her girlhood kindness by paying for the flower display in her wedding to that dog trainer husband of hers. The two made a handsome pair, Shikamaru concluded, if an aggressive one.

It struck him as odd that he was already thinking of his friends, having left them only two days before. It was, perhaps, the chronic nostalgia that plagued all businessmen – or maybe just bachelors. Ino had harbored overexcitable affection for him from puberty until he had gone away to school. By the time he had returned, her unrequited feelings were a distant memory to the Yamanaka daughter, and every word she spoke from then on had to do (either in admiration or in anger) with Kiba Inuzuka. Chouji had confirmed their mutual friend's care for the man as anything but fleeting, although the jovial vegetable farmer had made the report with the slightest touch of loss. Shikamaru had long suspected Chouji's feelings toward Ino, but he had never heard any voiced thoughts of the matter, and Chouji's negativity dissipated almost at once.

But all of this reflection was completely irrelevant to Shikamaru's purpose in Calais, France. He had not traveled across the Channel just so he could dissect the relationship between the people who comprised the majority of his childhood memories. Shikamaru had come to fulfill the task given him by his father, the one reason he had ever attended Oxford: to conduct business for the success of the Nara family's deer enterprise.

The docks in Calais were downright dodgy compared to those in Dover. Shikamaru found himself reviewing guidelines for warding off pickpockets. He carried no weapon, but he mentally invented various methods of utilizing the suitcase in his hand to fell ne'er-do-wells.

Progressing away from the docks, he contemplated stopping for a drink at an adjacent tavern, only to dismiss the idea as a health hazard. The cut of his clothes was too fine for anyone with even a pinch of dissolvable sedative to resist. Instead, he waited close to the entrance for an undecorated black carriage with its lanterns lit in spite of the bright day to draw up.

“Monsieur Nara?” guessed the cloaked driver with the reigns in one hand, hat in the other.

In return, Shikamaru asked, “Baki?”

A wide grin split his face. “The House de Sands awaits you, sir.” He descended from his perch to take Shikamaru's luggage and hold the door open for the English guest.

The ride to Paris from Calais was not terribly long, or so the driver assured him. Even so, Shikamaru found the bumpy road aggravating and entertained himself by examining every puffed cloud visible through the windows of the carriage. French countryside, he noted, was not very dissimilar to English. Both boasted overgrown grasses and miles of fencing, as well as animals with a talent for chewing their days away. So far, he was not impressed.

“Your first time to Paris, monsieur?” called Baki from the front. His passenger answered in the affirmative. “You are in for a treat! The Sands family's hospitality remains unsurpassed – some days even by the Tuilleries.”

“I am no guest of Bonaparte,” Shikamaru told him tightly, recognizing the declaration as a loyal one to Baki's employer. Even though his father was the cousin of a marquis or some such aristocrat, the Naras bore no standing with the French government and certainly would be unheard of in Josephine's salons. That they were doing any business at all with the French was much to the chagrin of Shikamaru's father, but it was a necessary endeavor for the family's finances as the market for deer in England was presently less than preferable.

“I am told Monsieurs Kankurou and Gaara are fairly taciturn in their dealings,” he commented to the driver.

“Gaara, yes,” Baki affirmed. “He will often leave contracts up to his brother. Kankurou shall bear plenty involvement in your business. It is Gaara that has a taste for deer meat, however.”

Asked Shikamaru in what he hoped was an appropriately detached tone, “Are neither of them married?”

Baki replied in just as polite a tone, “The two are devoted to the care of their older sister.”

So uninformative a statement piqued Shikamaru's momentary curiosity. “I was not aware they had a sister.”

“They did not tell you?”

“Well, I suppose they are under no obligation to mention the detail.”

“But you will be staying in the house for the next month?”

“Yes.” Shikamaru rubbed the back of his neck, the spiky tail of hair there brushing his hand. Something about the hesitation in Baki's voice unsettled him. “It is their prerogative to refrain—”

“Monsieur, I have served the de Sands family longer than both Kankurou and Gaara have lived. Their late father, though a private man, would not have expected them to withhold a...potentiality for discomfort in his home which his guests ought to know of. Particularly if their stay is extensive.”

Shikamaru wished he had rode alongside Baki, if only to watch the man's face while he spoke. From the belly of the carriage, he could only watch trees as they passed or the ribbon of road beneath the wheels. If he craned his neck, he could glimpse horses' hooves. “What potentiality for discomfort?”

He had already figured out that the driver's words had to do with the sister. If she was ugly, he could assure Baki that he had known only too many unattractive women in London life. If she was a spinster, that was also prepared for that. He recalled several visits from an aunt whose yearly tours to her family's homes had been a blight on his mother's summer.

“My dear Monsieur Nara, Temari Sands is, by all accounts, insane.”

---

“Monsieur Nara!” Kankurou Sands rose from a velveteen settee, hands spread wide in greeting when Shikamaru was shown to the study where both gentlemen of the house were conferring. “How do you do? I trust your time with Baki was well endured?”

Shikamaru felt the phantom of his father's elbow in his ribs and cultivated a pleasant smile upon his lips. “It was educational, monsieur. It is very gracious of you invite me into your home.”

“Ah, none of that.” A fringe of brown hair flopped over Kankurou's forehead as he nodded acknowledgement of the gratitude. “This house is so large that a great many of the rooms are closed off. We could never hope to fill it.”

The Nara had noticed. The Hotel de Sands was a four-winged affair, with molded ceilings and a series of gardens in the center courtyard.

“This surly young man I reluctantly introduce as my brother, Gaara.”

Gaara was the shorter of the two but decidedly more shrewd-looking. The thick red hair and rather shaded eyes set obvious differences in the family. They only resembled each other in miniscule ways; the shape of their ears and the way they both held themselves.

“Your French is flawless,” said Gaara. There was nothing in his words to suggest rudeness, although what little variety of tone he used revealed his surprise.

Shikamaru contemplated describing the challenging curriculum of the language at Oxford but soon decided the topic would not interest his hosts. He settled on a simple thank-you. “Do you wish to begin discussing—”

“No, no,” Kankurous declined. “You'll be taken to your rooms, and dinner is at six. Have a turn in the gardens, if you wish. Our library also holds a vast selection. Any of the servants would be happy to bring you a title – in French or English.”

Shikamaru bowed before following a middle-aged maid to the set of rooms where his luggage had been left. In the sitting room adjoining the bedroom, he helped himself to some pre-dinner brandy and surveyed a few of the documents he had brought with him from England. Every scrap of furnishing from the rug on the floor to the posts of his bed was, to Shikamaru's slight distaste, stalwartly French. He thought of his mother's painted tea set and burned with a yearning for good, warm tea.

He remained in his rooms until dinner, having caught the scent of impending rain before entering the manor and saving a garden viewing for another day. On the way to the dining room, he paused several times to note that the house contained a collection of works from choice artists. Apparently the family busied their wealthy lives with aesthetics in addition to business.

Nara was bored by both but had been raised to understand the advantages and lacks of them. His mother had wanted a son who could recite Shakespeare and draw the finest details of her rural home. His father had desired someone to take care of the business aspect of the deer he raised and realized that he would not have to pay his own child. Shikaku Nara was satisfied with his son's mind. He had fulfilled far less of his mother's desires.

Although, as of late, both of his parents had been loitering around the disconcerting subject of marriage now that Ino was wed.

Shikamaru ignored the idea, reminding himself that he was outside of his parents' plotting range and managing his own affairs as an Oxford graduate. And truth be told, he would sooner lock himself in the Bastille than marry anytime soon.

Immaculate linen draped the ten-person table in the Hotel de Sands, which was laden with fine china plates, crystal goblets, and silver that sparkled from the efforts of a devoted house staff. Seated there, he found the brothers and no one else.

“I had hoped to introduce you to our sister,” said Kankurou. Shikamaru began to lower himself into a cushioned chair, only to shoot into a ready stance when a keening cry arrowed into the room from above. The timing seemed almost rehearsed.

“Temari,” Gaara said by way of terse explanation, “is not feeling well this evening.” He flicked a hand at a maid standing against the wall, and she hurried from the room in obedience.

“I hope she's not in much pain.” Shikamaru successfully and uneasily sat.

Kankurou shook his head as a butler filled Shikamaru's glass with burgundy. “Not much. She suffers from regular nightmares and is prone to tearing at her body in her sleep; at her worst in the spring, I regret to say. Gaara and I are often forced to station someone in her room at night for fear that she will harm herself.”

It sounded dreadful, but Shikamaru doubted Baki would have called the woman insane if she was only the victim of nightmares. Still, it wasn't his place to further the topic and was relieved when the brothers asked after his journey and hobbies. Dinner went uninterrupted from then on, although Shikamaru noted the strange glances directed at him when he told his hosts that he enjoyed cloud-viewing.

---

Kankurou met with him early the next morning. Shikamaru would have preferred to meet him later – he had a personal affinity for sleeping in – but he was pleased with the older brother's interest in the Nara family's methods of raising the deer he was selling.

He spent a large portion of the day exploring the nearby streets, including a lengthy walk along the Seine. It was a gray day, one that was too lazy even to rain, and the kind that called for napping, but Shikamaru resolved to see enough of Paris to tell Kiba how extraordinary it was, as a favor to Ino, who longed to travel.

By the time he returned to the manor at sundown, Shikamaru had drawn several conclusions: the Arc de Triomphe would be better positioned on the other side of the city, the guillotine was a ridiculous tool of execution, and he would have to bring Chouji a box of eclairs. He also rather hoped someone would soon do something about the awful stench that rose from the cobblestones outside.

Gaara and Kankurou were out of the house for a theatre engagement scheduled before Shikamaru's arrival. As rain again seemed only minutes away, Shikamaru contented himself with writing letters to England at the desk in his room.

At least until the open window allowed entry to a particularly zealous gust of wind that promptly snuffed out his weakening fire and extinguished all light from the room. Shikamaru fumbled until he found matches and lit a candle upon his desk. Bringing it with him, he set off through the dark passages of the Sands house to find a servant who could relight his fireplace as no tools for doing so had been left by the hearth.

The rain had manifested in a steady downpour, soon accompanied by the usual guests of thunder and lightning. Shikamaru sighed ruefully as he reached the bottom of the stairs and stood on the second floor landing. His first French storm.

To the side of the stairs, a strip of light glowed from a door left ajar. Hypothesizing the presence of a servant or two, Shikamaru meandered over and stepped just inside.

He found himself in a grand library, as confirmed by the story-high shelves positively crammed with books old and new. The smell of leather binding was almost overpowering. The array of genres would have turned his bibliophile mother green, and most came in more than two different languages. The fireplace stood as tall as him, and facing it were two armchairs.

Shikamaru saw the library was devoid of life and began to go, thinking he might borrow the book of chess tactics if he had time.

“The rain sounds like crickets. Don't you think?”

The lightly-spoken French took him by surprise. Shikamaru had been highly valued and detested by his professors at Oxford for his capacity to foresee possibilities. But as he looked over his shoulder and saw the one who spoke to him, he doubted any hint on earth could have helped him predict the woman.

She sat behind one of the chairs; not in it, as her head peeked around one of the arms. Shikamaru stared, bewildered, as she stood up. “At least,” she went on, “it's what I have imagined crickets sound like. I have never heard them.”

Her flaxen hair hung in shimmer waves to her waist. She wore a white nightgown of thick cotton, detailed in silk. It was not late in the eyes of social people, but she looked as if she were on her way to bed. “What?” managed Shikamaru. “Crickets?”

“Yes. They do not have crickets in the city, you know.”

All he knew was that he was in the presence of an unmarried woman in a dim library, with no chaperone in sight. If the de Sands brothers responded to such a predicament in any way like the English, Shikamaru would find himself thrown out of the house with no contractual agreement to speak of. Glancing toward the open door and then back to the indecently-clad woman, he saw her blue eyes glittering with question.

“Are you English?” she asked.

He nodded absently, trying to figure out how to appropriately extract himself from the situation.

“I'm French,” she supplied unhelpfully.

Shikamaru wanted to roll his eyes. “Yes, you're...” Blast, he had forgotten her name already. “The lady of the house,” he finished, inwardly congratulating himself on his diplomacy, given the circumstances.

“Temari de Sands.” Temari did not smile, but her voice held the hint of imperialism every cultured Frenchwoman inherited through some mysterious play of genetics. She dipped in a proper greeting, much of the formality lost between her swinging hair and improper clothing.

Shikamaru noted, as her hemline rose slightly, that she was barefoot. Distracting himself from the unusual sight of shoeless skin, he stepped forward and spotted the book on the chair. Like a child, he now deduced, she had been lounging on the floor, her book propped on the seat and lit by the fire. It was, now that he thought of it, a better means of seeing the words than sitting in the armchair would have been.

She returned to that position now. Shikamaru, remembering Baki's words about Temari, asked, “Where is your maid, mademoiselle?”

At that, her mouth did twitch up. “Asleep. She slumbers very adamantly. But then, she's adamant about most things.” Spreading one arm over the seat, she rested her head on the limb and dourly recited, “ 'Unbraid your hair before sleeping, wash your face before dressing, pray to God to make you well.' ”

That last confused Shikamaru. She had screamed on the night of his arrival, yes, and while she was clearly unlearned in matters of propriety and tended to ramble, he could not see where anyone came off calling her insane.

Her eyes swiveled to meet his at an upward angle. “Do you pray, monsieur?”

Shikamaru folded his arms, but a smooth chuckle eased out of his throat before he could stop it. “I have very little to pray for, I assure you.”

“The sun in the sky, the fish in the sea, the deer in the woods—”

“Occasionally the deer,” he conceded.

“The touch,” Temari went on, turning away from the chair and facing him with knees drawn up to her chest, “of a woman?”

Face burning as red as the fire, Shikamaru took back his earlier sentiment. She was quite mad.

Her features tightened in an expression of uncertainty. “Or to be untouched by a man. I have forgotten.”

“Perhaps I ought to rouse your maid,” Shikamaru said, abruptly turning and heading for the door. Rude or not, he was sure withdrawing was the best possible course of action.

She dashed ahead of him, a quick blur of blonde hair and white nightgown. Using her body as a barricade, she whispered harshly, “Do not! It's so rare that I can read. I have been waiting for months to touch a book again.”

“Why not let you have books, mademoiselle?”

“They give me nightmares.” She shivered, clutched at her upper arms. “I expect I'll have a dreadful one tonight. My brothers will be very ashamed of me.”

“Why? What are you reading?”

She hesitated, as if afraid to remove herself, but she moved swiftly across the rug on the floor to fetch her heavy tome and beckoned he follow. Hesitatantly, Shikamaru did, and she showed him the cover.

“The Bible,” Shikamaru stated, his eyebrows darting up. “Ah...quite right, I'm sure it has inspired a nightmare or two.”

At that, Temari laughed. Shikamaru watched her face as color bloomed into the pale cheeks, astounded by the transformation of a detached woman to a good-humored lady – albeit one defying all established rules regarding time alone with a man. He was not entirely unmoved by the sight.

“You are an interesting man, monsieur,” she told him, her gaze narrowing into a mischievous grin. “To others, you must be boring.”

“I am,” he said, relaxing even as she climbed onto the seat of the armchair so that her face hung just barely above his.

Temari's eyes gleamed like marbles in the firelight. “I shan't forget it. I could use entertainment besides books. Would you take me outdoors tomorrow?”

She certainly was forward. “Your brothers—”

“My brothers would never let me walk about the streets.” Despite the restraining truth, her smile broadened. “What about a drive just outside the city? You seem the sort to be comfortable in the countryside.”

“I watch clouds,” Shikamaru blurted, unnerved by her proximity or her eyes or both.

“Good. I would like to hear crickets.”

Shikamaru, studying this slim blonde woman in her nightgown, felt a smile of his own tug at his mouth. “We will see.”

Above them, the ceiling creaked with the weight of someone leaving a room. Temari's smile fell, and the Nara son guessed it was her maid newly woken. She darted off the chair and went to replace the Bible on its prominent stand. Running for the door, she paused for a moment to turn. “Tomorrow, ask me nicely,” she said.

Shikamaru thought she expected him to do just the opposite and could not care less. “Good night.” She flew from the library, and he looked into the fire to reflect on the exchange. Mad or not, he considered as he borrowed some tools from beside the hearth to revive his own fire, there was something he could appreciate about Mademoiselle Temari Sands. Her capriciousness, her bluntness...the way she filled that nightgown.

He murdered that thought faster than a guillotine. No need to get ahead of himself. Shikamaru was sure she filled other garments just as nicely. He would find out tomorrow.

Outside, the storm was dying down.

The End

[Past Times] [Naruto: Jiraiya/Tsunade AU] "Prospecting"

Wed, 21 May 2008 20:56:23 GMT

Title: Prospecting
Author: NessieGG
Theme: Gold Rush
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Jiraiya x Tsunade
Genre: Romance, Humor.
Rating: Teen
Warning: Innuendo.
Summary: Finding stability after a twenty-year affair can be quite the search.

New York City's gambling season was at its ripest between late March (when all the Christmas bonuses of the white-collars had been scattered to the tables) and early May (when the college students grabbed anything they had left from their work-study programs and hit the cards hard). Tsunade Senju's favorite time for playing was in the dead center of April, preferably between the hours of eleven o' clock at night and three the next morning.

As she walked out of the Hilton with a downturned mouth and lightened purse, she decided it had been a very good idea to leave her charge cards with Shizune and Sakura at the hospital. Starting the evening with only a handful of one-hundred dollar bills had been a sound call, especially since Tsunade was ending it with hardly a jingle of change in the pockets of her spring green pantsuit.

Oh well, she thought. At least she hadn't been busted by the cops. It really was a shame that table gambling was illegal in New York City.

Tsunade wished she had at least brought an umbrella with her in addition to the cash. The disadvantage to the city's prime time for betting was that it was always wet. She had a choice of options: she could get a doorman to hail her a cab, she could hold the suit jacket currently slung over her arm above her head while she hailed her own cab, or she could call Sakura at the hospital to bring Tsunade her cards and take convenient advantage of Sakura's cab.

The doorman was immediately nixed; Tsunade had nothing resembling a tip on her. After checking her watch and reading 2:40 AM, she determined that calling Sakura was also a bust. For starters, her former student would be just finishing her shift break to return to work or to go home. If it was the former, there was no way Sakura could leave, and if it was the latter, she would be irate that the little time she had with her husband of barely a year was to be shortened. Since Tsunade was too discouraged to deal with fury in its pink-haired, green-eyed form, it seemed the jacket was her final solution. Too bad, really. She had dropped several digits' worth of dollars on the garment.

“Burning the midnight oil, Dr. Senju?” a voice asked in joking tones just as she was shaking her jacket into proper shielding position.

Lifting her gaze, Tsunade was only marginally surprised to see a man of hair shocking in both its length and whiteness grinning at her from several feet away. He was perfectly dry and sheltered by, not the awning above the hotel's entrance, but a deeply coveted umbrella.

Her red-coated lips tightened into a more severe frown. Certainly it was too late for this. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He of the Long White Tresses smiled in discreet amusement, due to his unrevealed intentions or the fact that the three or four beers in Tsunade had caused her “here” to sound like “hair.” Possibly both. “I thought I'd come visit,” he said amiably, and the reason would not have been suspicious – they were, after all, quite a bit more than old friends – if it wasn't going on three o' clock in the soaked morning. “It's been a while.”

“It's late, Jiraiya.” Her head was pulsing. Soon the pulsing would turn into throbbing and, from there, pounding. After her retirement, Tsunade had grown very familiar with the stages of a headache. A headache, she had theorized, was a state of loser in agonizing form.

Jiraiya was not deterred by her terse refusal to enter into a reunion-themed conversation. “It is late. That's my point, Tsunade.” When she merely stood hunch-shouldered in the mega-watt lighting of the front of the hotel, fingers pressed to her temples, he almost sighed. The cryptic messages would have to wait. “Come on, Princess. It's time you were in bed.”

When he had her tucked snug and dry in the dark back seat of a taxi bound for her place, Tsunade retorted, “Do you have to talk to me as if I was a child?”

“Would you like me to talk to you as if you were a petulant teenager?”

“Shut up.”

One thing about Tsunade that Jiraiya had always been simultaneously fascinated by and enviable of was that her aging had certainly dragged its feet. In the thirty-five years she had worked in the medical field, one would think she would be wrinkled and drawn from the stress of life's preservation and loss. Yet she looked to be just exiting her thirties rather than entering her fifties. However, he noted with a writer's observant eye, in unguarded moments like this one, when lights from the streets outside the window threw her face into sharp relief, he could see little dips and wrinkles that weren't visible in the big picture that was Tsunade.

He steadied her with one hand and held the umbrella over her head again until they were inside her apartment building. Jiraiya shook the drenched canvas over the leaves of a potted fern just beyond the door as Tsunade watched him balefully.

“You're planning on coming upstairs, aren't you?”

He sent her a grin that would level the most hard-hearted Irish priests. Tsunade stood firm. “I could go,” he admitted, “but it's late and dark and raining. Kids get brave on nights like this. You don't want me to get mugged, do you?”

Rolling her eyes, she managed to extract her keys from her purse while he jabbed the button on the elevator. In the car, Tsunade leaned against the mirrored wall as it ascended. “How was the tour?” she mumbled tiredly.

Some of his joviality ebbed at the question. “Long. Tiring.” The word came out on a slow breath. “It takes some time to hit all fifty states. I learned they speak good English in Alaska though. I'd always assumed they printed my stuff in Eskimo or whatever.”

As the doors parted on the eighth floor, Tsunade allowed him to lead the way down the hall and even handed him the key to get inside. “If you're so exhausted, why come here?”

“I missed New York.” Above his sharp cheek bones rough with morning stubble, black eyes glittered at her back as she went about flipping on lights and bolting the door. “I missed the familiar sights.”

“Still.” She deposited her purse on the small foyer table with all the grace of a disgruntled she-bear coming home to its cave. “Don't you have some writing to do or something?”

“There was a signing at the Borders on Fifth,” he told her casually as he leaned his umbrella against the table and placed the keys beside her purse so she could find them easily later on. “The tour officially ended with that.”

Tsunade halted, a perfect freeze-frame in her process of rooting for aspirin through the cabinets in the kitchenette ahead. Turning slowly back to him, she bared a wince. “That was tonight?”

“Seven hours ago,” he nodded. He regarded her unsmilingly for a moment, before his face cracked with a grin. “I guess you were having fun of the non-literature variety.”

She was sincerely regretful that she had forgotten Jiraiya's engagement on Fifth Avenue. Her plan to welcome him home by merely being there – something she had rarely been available for during her working years – was officially ruined. “I'm sorry,” she told him, weariness edging her voice.

Jiraiya's eyes softened in response. “It's fine, Tsunade. You know that.”

“How was the turnout?” Resuming her search, the retired doctor paused long enough to plug in an electric kettle on the stove before locating a squat plastic bottle and unscrewing the cap.

“Just short of a Billy Joel concert,” he said to her disbelief, watching her pop pills. “Actually, I think Billy Joel was there...”

“He was not. I think the press would've pegged him as a romance reader before now. Maybe Elton John,” she smiled, taking down a pair of mugs from the cupboard for the tea she was heating. “But even he would wonder why a guy like you should be writing such campy crap.”

“The lonely nights in the military,” he joked in a lavish tone. “Craving a woman's touch, the understanding between two hearts...”

She snorted. “If you still eat the way you did five months ago, I understand your heart's a very messy place.” Turning to the stove, she poured tea into the two mugs. As she gripped the handle of one, his rough palm fell over her wrist, rubbing over the slight protrusion of bone. Her eyes flew to his, amusement lingering. “What?”

Rather than verbalizing it, Jiraiya hunched over (quite far – he was considerably taller than her even while she stood in her favored high heels) and covered her mouth with his own. Tsunade's fingers fell away from the mug, the kettle continuing to steam beside them. When he pulled away, his smile was lazy, and her eyelids had drooped.

“It has been a while,” she noted appreciatively.

With one hand he played with the bright strands of her blond hair and yanked the kettle plug from the outlet with the other. “Come on,” he urged her quietly. “I bet we can remember a few things.”

“At three-thirty in the morning?”

“I recall a few rendezvouses happening earlier than this.”

There was something more comforting about his way of kidding her than the tea she had looked forward to drinking. Tsunade did not object when he twined his fingers through hers and took her into the bedroom. Even after his time away, he hadn't forgotten his way around her apartment. In the doorway, he turned.

“Tsunade.”

“Shh.” She went on tiptoe and kissed him, kicking off her shoes as he returned enthusiastic affection. “I think you have some pajamas hanging on the back of the bathroom door.”

He took the cue well and disappeared into the adjoining room while she turned on a lamp on the bedside table, folded back the goose down comforter, and undressed.

When Jiraiya emerged from the bathroom again, holding the cotton drawstring pants he'd left there months ago rather than wearing them, only to find that Tsunade had stretched out on the bed in a pale chemise and fallen asleep almost instantly. Jiraiya studied her for a moment, not in the way he studied “material” for his books, but in the way he would evaluate a lovely painting or an intriguing moment caught in a photograph. He was intimately familiar with the way her largely impressive chest rose and fell with every breath.

His aroused grin was reduced by the sight to a more tender expression. With a hint of resignation in his sigh, Jiraiya stepped into the pants and slipped beneath Tsunade's sheets of a luxuriously high thread count. Despite her insatiable love of gambling, it seemed her life's occupation kept her well situated. Reaching across her body, slimness deceiving of the formidable physical strength she possessed, Jiraiya's paused just before turning off the lamp.

A paperback novel of medium thickness lay open to its place on the nightstand, the spine scarred from the positioning. Jiraiya wasn't sure whether to be to be flattered that she owned his latest book or insulted that she would treat it so poorly.

Casting the room into darkness, he settled on flattery and pulled his softly snoring lover of nearly twenty years against his side before following her into sleep.

---

Tsunade woke up to the smell of coffee floating from the kitchenette into the bedroom. Jiraiya followed close behind it and passed her a full mug to make up for the tea he had coerced her into skipping last night.

She fuzzily recalled that there had not been any sex between them last night. Most of what she remembered involved a debate about how to go about getting home before Jiraiya had appeared as gentlemanly as could be (minus the characteristic teasing) and escorted her, umbrella and all.

“'Morning,” he greeted cheerfully. “Feeling hungry?”

As she did remember that she had foregone dinner in favor of the blackjack tables at the Hilton, Tsunade thought ravenous a better word. “Yep.” Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she ignored the askew hem of her chemise and gulped down the coffee. After a good shot of caffeine, she eyed him warily. “You didn't try to cook anything, did you?” She could just envision the destruction of her shiny Crate & Barrel cookware in his clumsy hands.

He laughed, deep and rumbling, and Tsunade had not known how much she had missed the sound while Jiraiya had been on tour. “The day I try to cook for you would mean my suicide, I'm sure. No, I was thinking we should hit Uzumaki's. I haven't checked in with Naruto in so long, and I hear he's serving breakfast now.”

She met his awake gaze with her still sleepy one. “Why'd you find me last night, Jiraiya?”

His musings were disrupted by her somberly posed question. For a second, he looked at her askance – as though she couldn't possible be unaware. When Jiraiya decided that she obviously could, he chuckled quietly. “What makes you think I wasn't coincidentally strolling by? My place isn't far from there, you know. Maybe I was saving your reputation as a moral-bound doctor by chance!”

“Except,” said Tsunade shrewdly, “you were coming from the wrong direction.”

His features tightened as he comprehended his mistake. “I guess that's true. Well...to be honest, that hotel was the third one I checked before spotting you just in time.”

“Why didn't you just wait until today to see me?”

“I told you before.” Jiraiya sat next to her on the bed, still wearing only the black cotton pants. Every scar he had earned as a Marine was visible to her brown eyes. “I missed the familiar sights. And—” He plucked the emptied mug from her hands and set it on the nightstand beside his book to make sure she was giving him her full attention. “—I told you it's late. Too damn late.”

“Late for what?” Tsunade demanded as he laid his head upon her minimally-clad shoulder. His fine white hair fell across his back, over her own, and tickled the skin not covered by the chemise.

Jiraiya was hesitant, but then he murmured, “Don't you think it's time we made this a little more permanent?”

The words felt like small stones dropping into her lungs one by one. “Do what?” She had meant to exclaim, but the response came out more weakly than expected.

“I'm not saying have a wedding,” Jiraiya went on as if she hadn't bodily jerked under his head. “Well, I guess I am, but one of those court marriage things, not a big ceremony. Maybe an open bar afterward.”

“You want to marry me,” she echoed, her voice hollow.

“I'll take moving in to start with,” he replied agreeably despite the fact that her lack of emotion was upping his heart rate to a level that was probably not recommended for someone his age. “We've always been good roommates, after all.”

“Why?”

“Because.” He took on a very frank tone. “I'm lonely. So are you. Otherwise you wouldn't have been reading my books while I was gone. I found the rest in your living room behind your medical books, by the way.”

Her skin turned a rosy shade of pink that went poorly with her hair. This was, Tsunade managed to process, one of the rare moments in her life in which she was actually rendered speechless.

“To my merit, I think I've been very patient,” Jiraiya added.

Tsunade took a deep breath. “Have I taken very long to come around?”

Straightening, he cupped a large hand to the back of her head. “Like panning for gold.”

She stared for almost a full minute before a familiar ember she had forcefully banked for five months remembered how to burn inside. A smirk tugged at her lips. “How do we start off this living-together business?” she asked. “Besides refraining from killing each other.”

Jiraiya stood and stretched as though he had stirred from sleep just now instead of an hour ago. On the end of a yawn, he suggested, “I could use a shower before we get breakfast.”

Tsunade also escaped from bed and bypassed him, heading for the bathroom where his clothes were still piled on the floor. “So could I.”

She left the door invitingly open behind her, and Jiraiya's wicked smile matched hers.

The End

[NejiTen] [The Calendar Suite: Justice] "Heart Weighing"

Fri, 16 May 2008 01:49:48 GMT

Title: Heart Weighing
Author: nessiegg
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: NejiTen
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 4,723

Tsunade began by tossing two photographs on the surface of her desk, facing them away from her so that Neji and Tenten could see what they depicted. Leaning forward, she propped her chin on her loosely-clasped hands, and waited unsmilingly for a reaction.

Fingers deft with any kind of steel and several other materials lifted the two photos. Dark brown eyes examined the frontal image of a man from the shoulders up. Narrowed, dark blue eyes dominated his oval-faced shape, lips tightly smiling below. Reddish-brown hair hung down to his shoulders, straight as a board and unremarkable but for the color. The second image was the same man at profile view. In this a zigzagging, pink scar upon the left temple could be seen, but that was seemingly the only difference.

“Who is this, Tsunade-sama?” asked Tenten, holding the pictures up and slightly to the side so that the man standing ramrod straight at the wall behind her could take a look. Even without his Byakugan activated, Neji could see them perfectly well from there.

“Takuya Kiyomori,” the Fifth Hokage said, “is the alleged leader of a group that has been taking advantage of a small village unaffiliated with ninja affairs just between the borders of Waterfall and Earth. Takuya's organization deals mostly with the transport of goods considered banned in most countries, such as opium. He suffers the occasional rivalry war, but his connections among various governments keep him safe from intervention by the daimyos. The people in the village are terrified of him, and rightly so. He's been known to publicly torture and kill anyone protesting his occupation.”

She took a minute to evaluate the responses of the two Konoha ninja she had summoned to her office even though it was past sunset and mission calls were usually distributed during the day. The truth of the matter was that Tsunade had required the better part of the afternoon to decide which man/woman partnership would receive this S-rank assignment. Her options had fallen between Yamanaka Ino paired with Inuzuka Kiba, although they were not originally from the same team, or Hyuuga Neji and Tenten. Tsunade knew when the only reactions to her target description was a slight incline of the head from the Hyuuga and a slow, long intake of breath from his teammate that she had decided correctly. This mission required delicacy, thought prior to every action, and absolutely no impulsiveness; things that Yamanaka and Inuzuka, though useful in their own rights, could not claim.

Neji and Tenten, however, were Jounin perfectly suited to the task ahead.

The calm shinobi spoke up. “If the villagers are so frightened, why would they take the risk in coming here to request our assistance?”

“Takuya's business in Fire is very limited due to restrictions on exchange in this country. While he does have men stationed further east, this region remains untouched by his – ah – enterprise. The three villagers who approached me this morning are farmers who do business regularly in Konoha, so traveling here would hardly arouse suspicion.”

Tenten folded her arms, nodding approvingly of the tactic. “Will escorting them back to their village be a part of our duties?”

“No, the farmers left as soon as I told them I would send a squad.” Reaching into her desk, Tsunade handed the bun-haired brunette a thick scroll detailing their mission along with directions to the village. “You should probably know that our clients are very poor and could not exactly afford our services. I accepted their request partly because I don't support the tyrannical control of civilians.” And because Tsunade knew what it was to lack financial comfort, but she did not say as much to her subordinates. “You will be paid by funding saved from special ANBU missions. All the same, I'd appreciate it if you kept the matter quiet from the council.”

She was given no objection and concluded by telling them to depart at eleven the next morning after getting plenty of sleep. “No early training,” she ordered Neji.

A little irritated (there were few things Neji resented more than the interruption of his routine), he inquired with flawless respect, “Why so early?” Rising so long after dawn was uncustomary not only to him, but to every ninja in Konoha.

“Read my scroll,” Tsunade said simply and watched them both bow. As Tenten was joining Neji to leave, she called across the room, “And by the way, have you set your wedding date yet?”

The question caught them off-guard. Tenten turned and somewhat sheepishly answered, “We've been considering next spring.” Neji was silent, but his stance had lost some of its rigidity.

Tsunade grinned at her. “I'll have Shizune mark my schedule.”

---

The reason for their commanded oversleeping, it turned out, was due to the covert nature of their mission. Neji and Tenten were posing as civilian night owls for the duration of their stay in the farmers' village, a little place nestled between the lands of Earth and Waterfall and padded by miles and miles of crop fields surrounding it. Tenten would have called it peace, but then again, a disruption of the village's peace was hers and Neji's only reason for their presence here.

They booked two separate rooms at the inn on the far side of the village, but they would, as always, be using only one of them for sleeping in. The other would be an office of sorts. They had fallen into this tradition of secrecy three years ago, at twenty-one. There had been no talk of marriage at the time, only a mutual need to seize whatever moments they had. Neji's proposal came later. It went unsaid, but both of them were at times surprised to have lived this long.

Back in the center of town, the two split up for the initiation of their mission. And work began.

Tenten sat by herself at a small round table in the center of a teahouse where Takuya Kiyomori's organization was said to base their operations. In a dress of black silk detailed with purple, Tenten sipped at a cup of sake watered down by a vial concealed in one of her long sleeves. Her hair was free of its tight buns, only the front strands gathered at the base of her head while the rest trailed past her shoulders in gentle, dark waves.

Ankles crossed neatly beneath her chair, she seemed relaxed enough, this notion aided by the slight smile on her lips. But in truth, Tenten was bothered by the instructions Tsunade had written for her and Neji. The farmers had specified that they wanted Takuya stopped, not killed. While Konoha ninja usually attempted to bring in more bodies to be jailed rather than buried, their professions were of extremely high risk, and deaths happened. Trying to detain Takuya for the wrath of the villagers would be more difficult than simply taking him out to prevent any further tribulation – especially if Takuya's organization was large. It made Tenten wish Lee had been assigned to this mission as well. The younger Beautiful Green Beast excelled at making a distraction of himself. Since their team was only a duo this time, it was up to Tenten to fill his duties. Hence the short, tight dress.

In the poorly lit teahouse, Tenten could see Neji as he came into her line of vision through a haze of opium smoke from cracked and chipped bowls at adjacent tables. Dressed in mainly gray and black civilian garb considerably more expensive than anything worn by a resident of Konoha, the Hyuuga appeared to be just another patron of the clearly amoral teahouse. His pitch black hair was secured at the nape of his neck and glided behind him as he walked. Unused to seeing him so well clad, Tenten had to remind herself that she was not sitting there for the purpose of gawking at her fiancée.

Sipping again at her sake, she murmured, “Seen anything?” Her voice was carried to him by a microscopic device planted into the artificial amethyst set in a choker at her throat.

“There's a man of note,” Neji's voice sounded in her ear by means of a bud of technology settled in the cartilage, imperceptible to the untrained eye.

“Takuya?”

“No. He's staring at you rather intently.”

She actually felt a number of stares bearing various meanings and asked, “He may not suspect anything. Maybe he thinks I'm charming or beautiful...or both.” Another dainty sip of sake.

“The chances of that are fairly low.”

Tenten leaned back in her chair and remained externally indifferent, although inside was another matter. “Is that so?”

“Well, considering I saw him kissing another man in the bathroom when I was in there, I choose to adhere to my analyzation.” Neji's tone did not waver from prosaic for the duration of his explanation.

Tenten utilized every ounce of the lessons she had received on controlling her emotions to allow a small twitch of lips to suffice for the laughter that threatened to erupt. “I see,” she relented. Feeling playful (a side effect, perhaps, of the secondhand intake of opium), she inched her chair back until she was certain Neji could see the expanse of her legs. There was a single catch in his breath that echoed through her ear. She tried not to feel too smug about it.

Tenten played the scene, gleaning attention of the toughs in the room so Neji could observe and listen in with his eyes – he was proficient at the art of lip-reading – to the exchanges delivered in undertones.

At one point, a woman in a pale blue kimono carrying a bowl of opium approached her. “Do you care to try it?” she asked sweetly as though she were promoting a new genus of tea leaf.

“Oh.” The kunoichi hadn't actually expected to be offered what was sold here and realized the stupidity of that. “No, thank you. Not tonight,” she added, hoping the afterthought helped her sound as though she were familiar with this kind of place.

The server only bowed respectfully, her short black hair shifting. “As you wish. Enjoy your visit and please, return again soon.” She moved off fluidly to entice another customer.

Well, she approved of the service here, she supposed. But Tenten was growing frustrated. Even though she could distract several of the men who were apparently supposed to be looking out for people just like Neji with little more than a flick of her wrist as she poured sake, they were both out of their element.

She wanted action, a chance to use the blades strapped horizontally against her pelvis (her hemline didn't obscure anything lower).

“Found him,” Neji reported at last and switched his position.

Tenten wished she could go eavesdrop too, but when a particularly violent-eyed piece of muscle ambled in her direction, she decided it would be more important to keep him occupied and cover Neji. She aimed her smile in the big guy's direction, and he half-sat, half-stumbled into an adjacent chair.

Neji's signal eventually came, just a short “shhh” in her ear, and Tenten knew he was ready for her to join him by the exit. Tenten thought fast, sending Takuya's bodyguard off to fetch her another order of sake before darting away. She asked no questions until the pair was outside. This late, the streets of the village were unlit and ghostly in their quiet.

“What did you get?” Tenten hadn't actually seen Takuya. To glance around for a familiar face would have broken her character of a stranger.

His colorless eyes were narrowed. “Nothing yet. I wasn't able to get close enough to him before he left the teahouse. I did hear from one of his men that they were going to the east side of town.” He led her around the teahouse building in hopes of cutting them off.

Tenten slipped a dagger from beneath her dress, just in case. As they ran around the perimeter of the wide-structured teahouse, thunder rolled above them. Lightning soon followed, but there was thus far no rain.

When they emerged in an alley where Takuya had been anticipated, Neji and Tenten were met by the sight of blank walls flanking empty space. No one occupied the alley, let alone their target for this mission. Meaning one thing: he had escaped. Unintentionally.

Upon this realization, the rain joined its brothers of nature and fell hard.

---

“Their logic is flawed,” said Neji as they returned to their room later, only an hour or two before daybreak. “I can understand the image the villagers here have of carrying out their own benign revenge, but the longer it takes us to incapacitate Takuya surreptitiously, the longer they must suffer his interference.”

Tenten listened supportively, as she was prone to do when Neji went on one of his tactical rampages. It was his way of dealing with mission frustration. His heart was never heavier than when they made no progress. “What do you think would be better?” She bent over the rug by the door and squeezed rain water from her hair.

“An improvement to the mission as a whole,” said Neji, “would be to dispatch a few of Takuya's men and than abduct Takuya himself while he investigates the matter.”

“These people wouldn't know about such strategies.” Tenten disliked indirect approaches as much as he did, but she remembered that they were hired and thus obligated to side with their clients. “The employees at the teahouse didn't even pick up on the fact that we weren't with Takuya's group. They aren't astute enough for things like this. They just want control given back to them.” Straightening once she was satisfied her hair no longer dripped, Tenten approached him near the bed, sitting on one side to remove her choker and ear bud, placing them on the night stand. “Their fields look nice, though.”

From behind her, Neji's hand fell on her shoulder. The purple and black silk, quite possibly ruined from the rain, had slipped out of position, and his fingers found bare skin. As quickly as he had begun, Neji now seemed to be done speaking of their mission. He replaced his hand with his lips.

Tenten angled her head back, and the Hyuuga, encouraged, ran short kisses over the width of her neck before she halted him with a palm at his chest. Turning to look at him, she said, “We'll have to make better progress tomorrow. I'm sure there's a limited time before our cover cracks and they break us apart. This isn't exactly a hot spot for people looking for fun.”

He nodded, agreeing with her but disinclined to vocalize it right now. Fine, Tenten thought, as long as her words went through. Anyway, she was beginning to grow very interested in what he was doing with his mouth...

---

They repeated their strategy the next night. Tenten sat at another table in another dress (this one not silk as it had rained for the better part of the day) while Neji meandered for information. This time her hair was entirely unbound. Again the woman in the kimono came to her with the smoking bowl, but Tenten played as though she were here for the sake and the ambience rather than the opium.

The woman paused in her duties long enough to tell Tenten her name, Nami, and to offer any help she could while Tenten was in the village. Tenten considered the possibility of Nami's involvement in Takuya's group but was more certain that the young woman had accepted the state of things in her village more readily than others and was just trying to make her way. The smile she gave Nami was genuine.

Neji's voice whispered in her ear through the device she wore again, and Tenten knew he must have been watching from a distance, waiting for Nami to go before contacting her. “Takuya is in a private room in the south end of the shop. I was able to stay outside the door long enough to hear him tell several men that plans to remove all of the residents from this village are underway. It seems he wishes to expand his base to the entire area instead of this teahouse alone.”

Tenten sipped her watery sake to ask, “What would be the point of that? It's hardly inconspicuous, considering his business.”

“I think so too. Either he's careless or there's something we're missing. And I doubt he's careless.”

“Overconfident, then?”

“Maybe. Or perhaps he's edged the underground market enough to afford indiscretion.”

Tenten didn't like so many variables. Reconnaissance was Nara Shikamaru's forte. If Tsunade had sent him and Ino on this one, things may have been handled by now, although Tenten could see why they were picked. Shikamaru didn't fit in places like this, and Ino was...well...shrill.

She told herself to think positive, that this experience would be good for them. If they succeeded.

“They've left,” Neji said, interrupting her train of thought. “Let's go. We'll take the secondary exit this time.”

She did as he suggested, meeting him in a darkened corridor reserved for employees. They hurried out an unmarked door that took them into the alley of last night, saving them the time of skirting the whole building.

Tenten started to run out, but Neji grabbed her suddenly and pressed her back against the rough wall of the alley, his lips crushing hers. Shocked, she struggled on reflex – Neji was never so demanding with her. And they were in the middle of working! When she attempted to push him away, to get back to their task, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head with one hand.

Then Tenten heard the low tones near the mouth of the alley. A sidelong glance spotted reddish-brown hair, Takuya talking to an unidentified man. Realization dawned as Tenten remembered that she had been watched the night before, possibly suspected, and Neji was maintaining their covers by preventing her from rushing onto the scene. To anyone nearby, they looked like two young people out of the opium teahouse, too absorbed in each other to notice anything going on.

Tenten shut her eyes and kissed him back but listened to the conversation occurring mere yards away.

“...told you to get rid of the owner of the inn, didn't I, Ohira-san?”

“Y-yes. But I couldn't, there were people around!”

“It's an inn. There's going to be people around. So,” continued the threatening tone of Takuya's voice, “the smart thing to do, Ohira-san, would be to lead the innkeeper away from the people, then get rid of him.”

Tenten recalled the kindly man who had given them their rooms. Gray-haired and stooped, he would be defenseless if assaulted. Her hands tightened around Neji's back. He switched angles to peer out of the corner of his eye at the proceedings.

“I...I'll do it, Takuya-sama! Please, give me a second chance!”

“The thing is, that was your second chance. Remember?”

“Yes, I know, it's just...this time, I will kill him for you!”

“That's what you promised me last time, Ohira-san. And you'll agree that a man who does not keep his word cannot be trusted.”

“Please, please...plea—” His third begging was promptly cut off. Tenten placed the sound, metal burying itself in wood. Next came the slam of a door, and then a few seconds of silence.

Neji pulled himself away from Tenten, both breathing heavily from the kisses as much as from what they had overheard. He touched her hand, and that was permission to go on. They ran together from the alley and emerged to find no one there, as before.

“Gone,” Tenten bit out. Her hands curled into shaking fists.

“Tenten,” Neji murmured, calmer by contrast, “look.”

She aimed her hateful gaze at the door he pointed to. It was attached to the next building, and at first she presumed it as Neji's guess for where Takuya and his three-man entourage had disappeared. But a closer inspection showed that her fiancée was not regarding the door itself but rather the dark, steady stream of blood running out from under the door.

Cautiously approaching with him, she stood at the ready while Neji yanked open the door. The sight promptly broke her hardened expression and turned it into a blend of disgust and remorse. Upon the door hung a middle-aged man, the unfortunate Ohira, in the position he had supposedly endured for the entire confrontation with Takuya. Blood poured down his front from where a kunai had been plunged into his heart.

It seemed not all of Takuya's murders were performed in public.

Neji stood unmoving for a moment, looking at the corpse, its eyes rolled down, its mouth slackened. The attack had been heartless, yes, but also without technique and certainly without any courage. When he faced Tenten, his eyes were already filled with the cold acknowledgment of a shinobi who did not prevent an undesirable outcome in his mission.

“Our work is unacceptable,” he said lowly, and Tenten nodded once.

“Not at all!” shouted a voice from a fair distance away. Both turning to face its source, Neji and Tenten saw Takuya watching them with at least fifty feet between them. All at once, twenty men surrounded them, serving as a barrier between the Konoha ninja and Takuya. “I think you've performed splendidly so far!”

The alley took on a deadening silence like held breath.

Ten men for each of them to get to Takuya. The odds weren't horrible; each person in Team Gai was accustomed to taking on a large quantity of enemies at the same time, and these followers of Takuya weren't even shinobi. Tenten saw the large vicious-eyed man from last night. But they were all clearly bent on their demise, and she and Neji were supposed to keep everyone alive.

That restriction made things considerably more challenging.

Before anyone initiate combat, a lithe woman wrapped in silk appeared in the door over which Ohira's blood dripped. She was looking down, lifting the hem of her kimono, and failing to fully notice the scene ahead of her. “Takuya,” Nami said, “did you—”

Her question was prematurely ended when Neji leapt forward and dragged her out of the doorway into the street, Ohira's blood inevitably staining her silken socks. She cried out as the Hyuuga clenched one hand in her short hair and held her in front of him, forcing her to lean slightly forward.

“Neji!” Tenten's eyed widened. It was unlike Neji to make use of a civilian, and using her as a shield was not only beyond him but went against the practices of Konoha ninja. “What are you—”

“Tenten, come close,” he said. Neji waited until she hesitantly obeyed before calling out over the heads of their would-be assailants. “Are you going to having your men attack us with your leader standing here?”

Oh, thought the kunoichi. She turned her brown eyes to Takuya, who had frozen, unsure of what to do in this interesting turn of events.

It was Nami who spoke first – yelled, rather. “Takuya! How could you let this happen?” Her eyes trailed frantically to Tenten. “You!”

Neji's behavior now made sense. Apparently he had discovered more than he'd initially let on, such as the fact that Takuya was not the true leader of the opium organization but instead did the bidding of Nami, who was.

“Nami-sama, I'm...I...” Through his faltering, Takuya continued to appear clueless as to how to respond to their predicament. “I didn't know you would be coming out here,” he told her weakly.

“Do you think that's good enough, idiot?!”

“N-no, Nami-sama!”

Neji interjected icily, “You didn't answer my question.”

Takuya looked hastily around, as though the answer was written upon a wall somewhere. When he did not find it, he called off his men, and all twenty of them retreated back into the teahouse, leaving Takuya and Nami alone with Neji and Tenten.

Neji handed the struggling but altogether unsuccessful Nami to Tenten, who held three senbon between the knuckles of her right hand and pointed them at the crime leader's neck. She couldn't help but feel a little badly for restraining someone she had originally taken for sincere but then quickly chastised herself. This was the world she had chosen after all, a world of deceit from friends and foes.

“What do you hope to accomplish?” Takuya asked as Neji moved out of the alley. “Even if you killed Nami-sama, I will still be here to continue her trade.”

Tenten let her eyes go as sharp and deadly as her weapons. “Then I will simply have to kill you as well.” Her voice assured him she could manage the feat before he could run away; there was no harm in letting them believe there deaths were impending, even if Konoha's mission dictated otherwise.

Neji was not gone long, and when he returned, he was followed by nearly a hundred residents of the village. Tenten wasn't sure that, in a village this size, it wasn't almost all of the residents.

Once Takuya and Nami were both surrounded by angry-faced men and women as old as sixty and as young as ten, Neji said, “You can let go now, Tenten.”

She did, but she kept her gaze trained on Nami. The leader eyed her in return; two females of different strength on opposite sides life. “You didn't have to live like this,” Tenten murmured to her, feeling an odd connection with her even though there was no basis for it.

Nami arched one eyebrow indifferently. “What the hell do you know?”

“I suggest some of you go into the teahouse,” Neji was telling the villagers who by now resembled a snarling mob after seeing Ohira's body hanging on the open door. Clearly, they were done being treated like doormats by ungrateful occupants. “You'll find the body of Nami's organization there.”

Tenten walked away, joining Neji outside the villagers' crowd. “What now?”

Neji turned and, with her, left the scene. “Now the rest is up to their justice.”

---

It was, they agreed the following morning, one of the strangest missions that either had ever undertaken.

Tenten was glad to dress in her standard, comfortable clothing with her hair back in buns. As they were leaving the village, Neji and Tenten were stopped by two farmers working in the fields.

“We've decided not to kill them all,” one said, and Tenten felt relieved of the anxiety she hadn't realized she'd been experiencing. A peaceful place like this did not need a massacre etched into its history, even if it was in defense. They listened to the village's plan to take Nami's group before the government in Earth, a country known for its lack of indulgence in drugs and other physically unhealthy products. There, the group would face proper ramifications for their actions.

“I've been thinking,” Neji said to her as they walked through the vegetable and rice fields, on their way to Konoha.

Tenten smiled. “You have a fondness for that, I've noticed.”

He took her hand and lightly held it before continuing lightly, “I wonder if we shouldn't move the wedding up to this fall instead of next spring.”

The suggestion caught Tenten by surprise. There was still so much planning to be done. “But it's almost the end of summer!” she protested, thinking of how the Hyuuga clan would react to hastened preparations.

Neji stopped her in the middle of the road. It was an open area, but as there was no one within miles, the location felt perfectly private. “I know.” Lightly gripping her chin, he kissed her.

This, Tenten thought hazily, was as just and fair a moment as she could ever receive. And her heart felt wonderfully light.

The End

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Epilogue

Wed, 23 Apr 2008 21:35:51 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Epilogue)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, SasuSaku, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Orochimaru, Anko, Shikamaru, Temari, Kiba, Ino, Naruto.
Rated: PG

Two embers joined and became the unified kingdom of Fire on the day Prince Neji Hyuuga married the princess Tenten. They were crowned side by side in a coronation held on the steps of the castle in which Tenten's father, King Jiraiya, had lived. It was Neji's first visit to Tenten's home.

He watched his wife tilt her head slightly forward to accept the glistening coronet befitting a queen. The young man did not yet consider himself a king although he bore the weight of the crown his uncle had passed down to him. Part of Neji was still locked in the past, in the moment when he had believed he'd lost his friend and love forever.

But that was over now, he remembered when, once bearing the bejeweled circle of gold, Tenten turned her eyes to his and smiled. A similar expression curved his lips. They both stood from their kneeling positions before her mother and his uncle, Neji's cape fluttering at the tops of his high boots, the white skirt of Tenten's silken wedding gown flowing about her. Shizune, on hand as always, stooped to arrange the long train so that she did not trip. When the royal couple leaned in for a kiss as binding as the rings on their fingers, the multitude of onlookers – citizens of both the former East and West – broke into earth-shaking cheers.

Tenten ascended a couple of steps in order to enter Tsunade's embrace. The woman who shared her eyes fondly stroked the wavy length of her brown hair. “One day,” said Tsunade, “you will have to tell me the whole story.”

Tenten beamed at her. “It was a dream, Mother.” Glancing at Neji, “Just a dream,” she insisted.

Hiashi had very little to say to her, but his words were always approving. She did see the man who was still a king in most regards (although he now wore a medallion rather than his crown) clasp hands with her husband and say something to him that was too low for her to hear. She did not need to hear it, Tenten decided at once. She no longer required words.

Neji extended his hand to her, and Tenten slipped her fingers through his with a grin. They had come full circle. Together they climbed into a wide, open carriage in which they would ride through the streets of both Tenten's homeland and Neji's before continuing on through the forest to the site of the castle where their story had unfolded. The palace and the grounds had undergone renovations while wedding preparation were made, and from there they would rule.

Neji pointed, and Tenten looked around to see a familiar head of pink hair. Sakura stood with her lover, Sasuke looking on broodingly. Her emerald gaze alternated from them to Sasuke and back again. It gave Tenten comfort to know that they would be together and inseparable from now on, and she waved to them. Sakura waved back, but Sasuke merely slipped his arm casually through hers, as though every second was perfectly natural and anticipated.

Along the way, between the throng of people that filled the streets on either side, the new king and queen saw Gai and Lee. Gai would remain on the grounds of the main Hyuuga palace but Lee would be moving west with them. His timely moment of help in that place had easily secured for him the position of advisor to his friends. It was probably due to this fact as well as the day's event that both Lee and his bright-toothed father sobbed enthusiastically, calling their names in adoration and shouting wishes of health and happiness.

Tenten was the one to first spot Hinata. From their vantage point in the carriage, neither one might have seen her at all. Though she was no longer as invisible as she had been, the petite princess still had a knack for disappearing into crowds big and small. It was the attention arresting presence of Lord Uzumaki, known by the monarchs as Naruto, who set Hinata pleasantly apart from the rest. The lavender she wore nicely complimented his hair.

Mischievously, Tenten threw the bouquet toward them. Hinata caught the bunch of white roses on reflex, startled only a little when her companion set a hand on her shoulder. Tenten had just enough time before the carriage rounded a street corner to see Naruto pluck one of the roses from the bouquet and weave it through Hinata's hair behind her ear.

Turning to Neji, she asked, “Does this mark an ending for us?”

The expression his face adopted, soft and intense all at once, was for her eyes alone. “No. We have had our ending.”

“A beginning, then.”

He passed an arrow-calloused thumb over the back of her hand, shaking his head so that dark locks fell over his shoulders, contrasting with the fabric of his wedding day clothes, pale golden like the locket that had been retrieved for her and which she wore at her throat; a sign of devotion and a way to never forget what they had endured together. “We have had that, too.”

Tenten agreed. To think of beginnings and endings was to think of a time when they were apart, and both of them intended to forget such a time.

As they were edging out of the old border into the open fields of Neji's former home, the new queen thought she saw a woman sitting on a fence, watching quietly. She was not at first recognizable in a clean dress without patches, her hair combed and her face washed, but Tenten knew she was looking at Anko Mitarashi. And from her contented smile it appeared, despite her obvious fixation on Orochimaru while the sorcerer had lived, that she was happier than before.

Once Tenten looked a second time, Anko was gone.

“I have been thinking,” Neji said and gaining her attention, “what changes should be made now that the two kingdoms have fused again. Laws will need reconciliation. Borders will have to be redrawn.”

She would liked to have nestled into his arms, but as they were in public, that would have to wait. “Changes will have to be made.” Laughing shortly, she added, “I am familiar with that!”

Neji's palm rose to cup her cheek. The smile had departed, replaced by his usual solemnity. Surely he was thinking of the various forms in which he had seen her; the winging swan, the black-garbed artificial princess, and, of course, every stage of her from infancy to womanhood.

“Whatever changes you may undergo,” the king told her, his voice soft without actually being quiet, “one change that you will not face is the way I love you.”

She gripped his wrist to draw out the contact. “For all of our lives, Neji? Until we both die?”

His mouth quirked. It was the face he took on when he was most pleased. “For longer even than that, Tenten.” To seal the vow, Neji pulled her to him in the plush seat, his fingers gentle upon her shoulders left bare by the gown.

Tenten indulged in a sigh as his lips met hers in the sparkling day, his hand behind his head. She needed no more vows. She believed in and trusted Neji. They had proved their love for each other.

The King and Queen Hyuuga would live long, destined to prove it to everyone else as well.

The End

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 12

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 23:09:38 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 11)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, SasuSaku, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Orochimaru, Anko, Shikamaru, Temari, Kiba, Ino, Naruto.
Rated: PG

Away from the Hyuuga palace, Tenten's wings seemed to grow slower and heavier with every downward thrust as she propelled herself across the sky, over the miles of forest and through the curtain of vine that opened into the grounds of the derelict castle. The air she soared through was charged with an unnamed force, and her strength was sapped by it more as each minute passed.

She had fled so frantically that all control over herself had been surrendered to her pain. Aiming for the water, Tenten found she could not decrease her speed, and only the tips of her wings streaked through the wet surface, throwing arcs of dripping light as she flew over the lake completely. Out of the corner of her eye, Tenten registered a flash of pink hair. Sakura watched in frozen fear, still damp but free of Orochimaru's dungeon.

The cold stone of the bridge leading toward the castle caught her, and the swan lay stretched face-up near the steps leading to the arch, wings outspread. A familiar blend of warmth and cold flooded within her, light rising in her blurring vision. And then the notch of a wing became an upturned wrist and fingers dangling over the top step, a hard beak became a softly-parted mouth. Through her lashed eyes, Tenten vaguely noted that there was still no moon to greet her in her ruined state.

Was this...all?

What more is there?

Tenten could have smiled if she'd possessed the strength. Neji's words, the question that had led to their series of misfortune, seemed apt enough in this moment. Her heart gave a swift, sharp twist inside her and she took to long pulls of breath as any strain on that particular organ would not be best.

Overhead, she saw Sasuke, still in raptor form as he circled above her in the darkness of night. Wasn't it odd that she had transformed and he had not? She could not begin to explain it. In fact, there were a great many things she could not even successfully think of right now. But Neji...she could think of Neji and of the way his eyes had widened to such disbelieving size when he first saw her upon the lake. To think that had been only last night. It seemed so long ago to Tenten.

And then, so strangely, Neji was there, his eyes so like the moon that had abandoned her tonight.

---

Unlike her, Neji could not even summon the wonder of why Tenten had reverted to human form. After bursting through the vines so forcefully that several leafy strands snapped from the bough above, the prince raced across the grounds following the same path as the previous evening, though on this non-illuminated night the travel was more difficult. When he arrived at the fore of the old castle, his breath fled from his heaving chest as though exorcised to see the princess he sought lying supine on the chilled stone floor.

There was blood coating her left sleeve where a wing must have been minutes earlier. Neji took no heed of the hovering bird he had chased before nor of the chalk-white woman standing in the distance.

“Tenten?” Her name grated from his throat like air between thorns, and, rushing to her, Neji dropped to both knees at her side. “Tenten!”

Her eyes, previously drooping, now blinked rapidly and then opened entirely to look up at him. “Neji?” she queried as one in a dream, unsure of her sight's true witnessing.

“Yes,” he murmured, almost afraid that too much volume would damage her somehow. “I'm here, Tenten.” With gentle arms, he lifted her so that only her body below the waist touched the stone. Her skin felt as cold under his fingers, and he tightened his hold on her unwittingly. Neji's hair fell forward, an ebony curtain on the side where Orochimaru's fortress was, leaving only the lake open to her view.

She trembled against him, one hand reaching up toward his neck. “I am...so weak, Neji.”

“No, no.” He said the words, hardly hearing them himself as he recounted a thousand memories of their child's play, in which he had been bested by her as many times as he had done the besting. “Strong,” he refuted, eloquence gone.

“I must be...”

“No!” He took her hand, pressed it to the place over his heart. “You are going to live, Tenten. With me, forever. The vow I made...the vow the world heard...that was for you.”

She nodded, but the movement was reminiscent of the water tumbling over the fall in the forest, never to be seen again after in that single second. “I know.” Briefly, her fingers returned pressure on his. “I love you, Neji,” she whispered. Only too soon, those fingers released altogether.

He froze, sound fading in his ears as the princess's head fell back over his forearm, her long brown hair cascading beneath her. The rest of her grew still.

“Tenten?” Why he made her name into a question was unknown, however, Neji knew the truth. As he laid her tenderly down upon the stone, his limbs shook with a rising fury even as his blood screamed in pain. “My vow...it was...”

“For her,” came a sneering voice. “But of course it was.”

Bolting to his feet, Neji whirled to see Orochimaru standing yards away, looking on.

“And she knows that,” he continued through lips spread in a grotesque mockery of a real smile. “Or rather, knew that.”

And then Neji's hands were on the older man, bunching in his ragged black clothes, and he gave a tremendous shake of the sorcerer, whose smile at once disappeared. “Do not,” he warned Orochimaru, “allow her to die.”

Orochimaru appeared unimpressed. “A threat? Is that what you mean to—”

“Do not so much as dare to allow her to die!”

“Ah, that is what you mean to make. You are quite outspoken tonight, Prince Neji.”

Knuckles turning as white as his eyes from the grip, Neji practically lifted the man from the very ground. “If you have the power – and I can see that you do – then do it!”

The false expression of ease Orochimaru bore now flashed to one of outrage. Throwing out both arms, the Hyuuga future ruler stumbled back a few paces. “Very well,” he snarled. The nostrils flared in menace. “Will you fight for your dying princess?”

The air around him crackled, sparks shooting from nowhere to nowhere. Orochimaru aimed both arms skyward, and then he was enveloped by a shifting, pulsing light that grew like a pillar around him.

The color of the spell's visual manifestation flared onto Neji's stricken face. He could hardly comprehend it. The green flash...

The pillar rose several stories high, a sickly shade touching every leaf on the surrounding trees, temporarily dyeing the lake's silver water to that of the light. And when it went away, the light did not fall as it had in Tenten's transformations but rather blinked out of existence to reveal a towering, squirming serpent.

The deadly form Orochimaru had taken snapped fangs that dripped poison, a forked tongue dark and darting from the large mouth. In his surprise, Neji did not move for several moments until a shrill call from the raptor brought him to his senses.

With the instincts of the hunter, he ran toward the castle, away from Tenten's unconscious body to prevent any harm toward it, fingers grabbing for the hilt of his sword. Without getting too near a wall where he could be trapped, Neji spun and faced the monster, blade upheld. The snake that was Orochimaru slithered at a remarkable speed, undaunted by the steel pointed at him.

He dropped his head to snap his teeth at Neji's left side, which Neji dodged, then his right, also a miss. Neji seized the moment to take a swipe at the snake's exposed neck and left only a lengthy scratch, cold blood seeping in response. It was not enough to stop Orochimaru, nor even to slow him down. Repositioning, Neji played defense, holding the sword one-handed, the other hand outstretched to feel the space around him and sense an assault.

He was not disappointed, and the scaly skin that covered the enchanted body left a shallow gash in the prince's shoulder. Ignoring the pain, Neji advanced, forcing the serpent to retreat a little, toward the castle's east side, by thrusting repeatedly.

With the difference in size, however, his defense was not impenetrable, and Orochimaru found a break in Neji's swinging to bat him once sharply with the whiplike tail. Neji soared backwards several feet above the ground, his spine meeting the oblique wall beside the bridge. His head hit the crumbling remains of what might have been a sculpture in the past, but now served only to set stars exploding in front of Neji's eyes.

His vision was badly blurred, so perhaps he only imagined it, but Neji thought he saw a pink-haired woman dive into the lake, only to come up in the minutes Orochimaru angled his flattened head this way and that to inspect his enemy, now that Neji's sword had not only been knocked from his head but shattered by the last blow as well. Cuts gained in the rash move now shone brightly on the snake tail, but Orochimaru remained focused on him instead of the wounds.

The raptor called again, and from seemingly nowhere appeared, a familiar wooden object carried by the lethal talons and dropped into Neji's lap. The Hyuuga clutched at the bow, wet from the lake, as the raptor took off toward the snake, showering Neji with water droplets as he went. The prince did not have the presence of mind to be surprised when the bird went for Orochimaru's slitted eyes with the curve of its beak.

His bow retrieved, Neji was still at a loss. The snake recoiled from the raptor but remained upright, and what use was a bow without a—

“Neji!”

There was no time to look in the direction of who called for him, although Neji knew for a fact that it was Lee. His friend must have followed him from the palace. Instead of looking, Neji instinctively extended a hand and closed his fingers just as a thin arrow came into proximity of his grip. The rest was natural.

Arrowed notched, the muscles of his right shoulder tightly bunched as he took aim and fired. The raptor soared off as, with a shriek-like hiss, the serpent bent backwards, then fell forward. The arrow lodged in his heart went still deeper, pushed in by the ground that cracked on impact.

Mere seconds later, a shower of motes like the lights of fireflies flew from the giant snake, and then the creature – the sorcerer Orochimaru – vanished, body and soul.

On the other side of the lake, a shocked Lee watched from beside the woman who had emerged, sopping, from the water just as Lee had entered the hidden grounds. His eyes went impossibly wide when the raptor he had seen charge a giant snake on its own flew toward them. The pinions suddenly burst into white-gold light, followed by the rest of the small body, until the bird came to a stop some feet away, and the light lengthened. Once the light fell away, a man replaced the raptor.

Lee could only witness, agog, as the woman beside him pressed a hand to her mouth and stumbled forward to be caught by the dark-haired stranger, his arms already opening for her. “Sasuke,” she murmured before the man's hand dived into her pink hair and pulled her head back to seal his mouth to hers. Lee, smiling goofily, was heartily embarrassed, but neither the man called Sasuke nor his lover seemed to so much as notice him there.

He set his gaze across the lake again, and Lee's smile fell.

Neji, his bow discarded, had placed himself once more beside Tenten. He had gathered her lifeless body against him, slightly rocking her as though to help ease a pain that she could not feel, her forehead balanced against his shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” Neji murmured into her unhearing ear, speaking to her as much as to his own soul. “Forgive me, Tenten. I tried to break the spell...that was all I wanted.” His shoulders shook, not with tears but with an emotion that could not physically exist. “And you did not deserve this. You have always been so strong, and so brave, and you...you've always loved me, so kindly loved me.” His fingers slipped behind her head, smoothing the limp brown hair. “Just like I have always been yours, Tenten.”

He held her to him as closely as last night. When he was shaken by another tremble, Neji did not immediately realize it was from his own body.

Tenten shifted, her forehead rising from his shoulder, to blink rapidly into his eyes. “Neji,” she murmured in wonder.

Neji's lips parted in pure shock, almost unwilling to believe. “Tenten?”

Tenten's gaze softened, and her arms wound over his back and around his neck. “Oh, N—” His name was silenced by the force of his kiss as Neji rose to his knees and brought her up with him. They did not break apart for many minutes.

And, from across the glittering lake, Lee knew that he saw everlasting love.

To be concluded...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 11

Sun, 06 Apr 2008 20:26:51 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 11)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, SasuSaku, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Orochimaru, Anko, Shikamaru, Temari, Kiba, Ino, Naruto.
Rated: PG

There was a range of responses to this princess, so suddenly arrived, with whom Neji seemed so familiar. Everything from appreciative murmurs to approving smiles or indignant name-calling met King Hiashi's ears, but he remained too stunned to hear them. What mattered to him was that Neji's secret was revealed, and that it was good; baffling, indeed, but good.

As for Neji, the prince wore a rarely-seen expression of contentment as the brunette swayed and spun at his lead, the silk of her night-colored dress granting easy movement. But she appeared nervous, a little jerky in her steps. This was unlike Tenten, who could dance with a man as easily as she could with knives.

“You are...” He paused when her eyes turned on his own. They were, of course, brown with the flecks of amber that he had tried to count from memory in the nights without her, but they were also very wide. “Different somehow.”

A grin at once materialized on her features. “Do not concern yourself, Neji.” Stepping in time to the music, she pressed two fingertips to the heart-shaped pendant at her throat, the gold glittering beneath her skin. “After tonight, everything shall be—”

“Perfect,” he said with her. He watched the heart as it glinted and instantly felt better. She was here at last. To stay with him forever. “Yes, Tenten.”

The waltz soon ended, and as he rose from his bow and she from her curtsy to the sound of admiring applause, Neji looked toward the maestro, who ceased all music with a commanding flick of his hand. Across from him, Tenten watched expectantly.

It was time to rescue her.

---

The muscles that would have been her triceps if she'd been in human form positively burned Tenten, but she flew on at top speed toward the pale, tall structure lighted like a beacon for Hiashi's ball. She was frightened by the notion of what Orochimaru could do to Neji, and all present there – Hinata, the king, Lee, Gai, all the guests! – if she did not make it.

Landing on the nearest windowsill that looked into the ballroom, Tenten surveyed the sparkling scene. She immediately spied Neji standing in the center, practically radiant with dignity. He was facing away from her window, standing with...someone...with...

A soft bird noise erupted from her beak. The sight of her beloved holding her hand without feeling it was disconcerting at best, terrifying at worst. She had anticipated an attack of violence, not of deception! Neji smiled at the woman who was her and yet an impostor.

The crowd was silencing itself.

“I wish to make an announcement,” he said, loud enough to be heard through the glass, “to the present kings and queens of surrounding nations or their representatives; to the ladies and gentlemen of the court; to my family, and to Queen Tsunade though she still sleeps.”

Tenten's breath caught. Her mother was alive! In the fit of misfortune that had found her, she had pathetically forgotten Tsunade. Had Orochimaru enchanted her as well?

“Today,” Neji continued, “I have chosen my bride.”

No. Tenten's head shook involuntarily. No!

Hinata smiled from her place beside a blond lord. Even she could not identify the other princess as false.

“I wish you to know her as the future queen of the king of West Fire,” said Neji, “and, eventually, the kingdom of Fire once more in its unification.”

Desperate, Tenten flew to the next window, then the next, attempting to enter Neji's line of vision so that he could realize what was happening. She tapped wildly at the glass with beak and wing. Neji! Neji, you've been tricked! You've been—

But Neji still did not catch sight of her. “So that I may prove my feelings for her, something at which I have failed in the past...”

Tenten soared to yet another window and saw that the figure bearing her body now pressed herself to Neji's side, and he faced away again, as though she had turned him thus on purpose. If she had been seen by the impersonator, then Tenten knew this was the case.

“...I now make a vow; a vow so strong that it may not be broken, by man, magic, or beast, stronger than any force on earth, to best all vows...”

The tapping changed to beating, and a gilded edge of the window sliced open an inch of Tenten's wing, blood tainting the pure swan feathers. In her icy horror, she did not even register the physical pain. Her spirit, however, was ablaze with agony.

She went into a frenzy of searching for entrances, attempting a cellar door (chained), a fountain built into the wall (caged), and a servant's window peering over the ground (rusted shut) before returning to the bright pane of glass that framed the cause of her heightening panic.

“Here, before the whole word,” Neji was concluding, “I make a vow of everlasting love.”

NEJI!

The prince gestured to the woman who now stood just behind him, gloriously beautiful in black and red, flowing hair, and oddly nonchalant smile. “To the princess Tenten.”

Neji's slow stretch of the arm was like a blow to the neck, leaving Tenten stunned and then pulsing as the emotional pain and the physical melded and became indistinguishable. Something inside her like started weakening, like a column of wax under a flame. It hurt, but she managed to flutter upward and catch the breeze, directing herself back toward the lake in Orochimaru's heartless domain.

---

A blend of polite clapping and ecstatic cheering swelled in the ballroom, and Neji squeezed his future wife's hand. Before he could say a word or hear one of hers, a gust went through the entire room, extinguishing lights and billowing clothes. There was no source for the mysterious wind, until the double doors clattered open.

Neji saw a cloaked man on the steps, saw his lips curved and his eyes narrowed. Reading ill intent, he held a hand to the woman beside him before proceeding forward. “Who are you?” he demanded before his uncle could.

“I suppose I will be the courteous one and say simply 'hello' first,” replied the long-haired, pale newcomer. The coolness in his voice soon cracked, however, and he came near to doubling over in restrained laughter. “You behaved so predictably!”

“What do you...”

“And astoundingly, I may add. Pledging your everlasting love to another,” said Orochimaru, “is quite the feat of witless disloyalty.”

Neji's facial features hardened. “What are you daring to imply?” Aiming another hand to the black-clad woman, “This is Tenten!” he exclaimed.

“Tenten,” he was corrected, “can never be with you. Tenten is out there. Tenten is mine!”

The truth dawned on Neji with all the gentleness of a boulder hurtling down the cliffside to squash him in the ravine. “It's you! The one who did all of it to her, to Queen Tsunade.” He watched the sorcerer jerk at the mention of the monarch's name. “You are finished,” Neji declared. “I made a vow of everlasting love, and Tenten—”

“No.” Orochimaru lifted his right arm. “You made a vow of everlasting death.” With a stretch of his fingers, a fine line of orange-gold light trailed from him to the woman behind Neji, who writhed and collapsed on the carpet.

Neji froze for a split second, then raced toward her, calling out for a response. But even as he ran, he saw the brown hair shorten and grow brittle, then discolor to a shade of wilted lilac blooms. The skin paled and the face contorted to a new face. By the time Neji knelt at her side, Tenten had become someone else completely. The strange woman rose shakily to her feet and then went to join the sorcerer.

Gasps and outcries burst from the witnesses. Someone fainted. Neji noticed none of it.

Orochimaru added, “And Tenten fades quickly.” With a sweep of his arm, he drew Neji's attention to a western window that held the night sky and, in its center, the wing strokes of a retreating white swan.

“Tenten!” Neji cried, unable to believe his own fooled state.

“I would hurry,” came Orochimaru's cruelty-slicked advice. “If you put in the effort, I am sure you will be able to meet her for one last, short goodbye.”

The prince exhaled once quickly, as though to expel his own weakness, before bolting to the door without heeding Orochimaru any further. There was only one chance, and time was most obviously of the essence.

What had he done?

In the ballroom, Orochimaru did not bother with the other members of the royal family, although both daughters were present and would make for an almost effortless murder. Hiashi was a crownbearer that did not interest him. To amuse himself, he made a suggestion to Anko.

“We should hurry home, my successful actress. There is still a dramatic ending to see tonight.” With a touch to the girl's elbow and a lift to his night cloak, Orochimaru dematerialized from the palace grounds.

It took mere seconds before the terrified, quizzical screams and demands broke out from the horde of attendees. To escape them, Hiashi was ushered to the stairs leading up into the castle using Gai as a bodyguard. He ascended only ten steps before he came face to face with a woman whose yellow hair was tangled from a sleeping braid and whose brown, somewhat bleary eyes flared with unleashed passion.

“Hiashi,” said Queen Tsunade in even, fearsome tones. The king could not speak for shock at the sight of his old friend awake right in front of him. “Where is my daughter?”

To Be Continued...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 10

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 02:12:39 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 10)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, SasuSaku, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Orochimaru, Anko, Shikamaru, Temari, Kiba, Ino, Naruto.
Rated: PG

The sight to which Anko Mitarashi was most accustomed was the dark cloak hanging from Orochimaru's back, grown slightly ragged over the years and maintained by her sub-par needlework. The garment waved flag-like with every step the sorcerer took, and she cherished the familiarity, but not as much as the five times in her life that Orochimaru had looked her in the eyes.

“Did you see, Anko?” he was saying. “She has almost broken entirely. The human mind craves constancy. Changing between woman and bird, gathering hope and then losing it, all this weakens her practically by the hour. As for Prince Neji of West Fire...well, his vow could become a problem. Tenten does not need to be present for him to prove his love for her. And I have been civil so far, have I not?” He pressed a fist without warmth to the underside of his chin. “I should not have been so foolish. Civility is what lost me my throne eighteen years ago.”

The first had been in her childhood, a lone man spotting a starving, abandoned child on his way to begin work for the king of East Fire. The four times following had been only when Orochimaru was particularly pleased with himself, and Anko was his only option for someone to whom he could communicate his feelings.

“Anyone attempting to secretly enter the Hyuuga palace,” went on the sorcerer, “would be bodily detained on sight, so murdering him is not possible – as of yet. What is necessary is that I deceive Neji. He is clearly determined to rescue Tenten, but he must be stopped. The question concerns how?

She shut the door behind her once they reentered the castle, having left Tenten to her misery. Anko lingered over the number six when, without any signal, Orochimaru turned and stared at her, possibly alerted to her by the heavy sound of the door as it closed.

“Of course,” murmured Orochimaru through sallow lips. “You!”

Anko's mouth went dry. To receive her master's full attention was so rare that she was incapable of forming a worthy response.

Orochimaru grabbed her by the shoulders. “I will disguise you to appear as Tenten! You'll go to the ball in her place, Anko. I'll need to change things here and there, but you both are nearly the same height and shape. Well, you are also too old. But that and everything else is a matter of the right spell.”

“Truly...” Her voice cracked. Anko only ever bothered to speak to Orochimaru, yet as he so seldom bothered with her, talking was a skill she lacked practice at. “Truly, master?”

“Certainly. You'll have to prepare, naturally. A girl so ungraceful and meek as you won't pass as East Fire's princess before an entire court of monarchs-to-be.” Orochimaru's lips spread back so that his pointed teeth glimmered in the weak light of the old castle. “Can you disguise yourself, Anko?”

With a vigorous nod, the loyal, misguided woman assured him she could.

“You must understand the beauty of this spell. Once Neji professes his love for the wrong woman, the spell will not be broken. Rather it will break Tenten. You see, Anko,” Orochimaru grinned, “the princess Tenten will die. Appropriate homage to two esteemed members royalty!”

Leading her to the center of the room, where no objects stood within ten feet of her, Orochimaru put a hand over her eyes. “I want you to think of all the beauty and grace and independence you so lack and Tenten exudes. Think of how perfect you could have been if you were not so useless a creature, Anko. Dwell in the fortune that passed you by.”

Anko subjected herself to his words, allowed them to fill her. If only she were useful, beautiful, graceful...full.

---

“It seems your uncle has outdone himself.”

A proper compliment paid toward his family in the proper place, but Neji was too preoccupied to entirely appreciate Lee's thoughtful show of respect. He had yet to finish his scan of the sea of faces, notably most of them young women, that roamed the Hyuuga ballroom. “Of course he has,” he replied in time. “He always tries to, one way or another.”

“No remarkably scathing comment?” Lee noted, although the bowl-haired man seemed unsure of whether he felt surprise or apprehension. “That is certainly unusual. I would have expected a more embittered choice of words.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one thing,” he explained, “there is so much excess is this room even I find it difficult to enjoy the occasion, and you disdain the unnecessary. For another, King Hiashi expects you to decide which of the eligible women here you will marry before the month's end.”

Neji, every sense he possessed filled to the brim with triumph, turned away from his friend to conceal the mysterious twitch his lips gave. “I am not so concerned about that.”

The virtual parade of heiresses that had gathered in West Fire for King Hiashi's impromptu ball was essentially a dizzying cyclone of expensive gowns, overly bright color, and estrogen that could be destructive as discreetly or bombastic as the women chose. Each hopeful girl did everything but prance by him to show off her looks, breeding, and talent in order to arrest his attention. Neji's ear was still ringing from the high C one had warbled sans warning.

Not every princess appeared to be at all interested in the prospect of Prince Neji for a husband. Indeed, one tall blond had struck up rather heated bickering with the captain's son, Shikamaru, off to one side of the room and could not tear her narrowed eyes off of the grated-looking man, who appeared just as aggressively captivated by her.

Most of them, however, seemed to have coiled themselves like glittering springs, ready to jump at him with regaling of their wealth, their respective nations' history, and most of all, their attractiveness as women. One such assailant was a blue-eyed girl who wore her corn-yellow hair in a high ponytail behind her tiara. Her voice as it called after him was pitched so high that a visiting prince (most likely attending to survey the pickings without having to hold a ball of his own) had to restrain the dog that accompanied him as it barked at her in response. The talkative princess was soon distracted and allowed Neji to maneuver a few more paces forward before the host of the event successfully located him, Hinata at his side.

“You are not mingling well,” Hiashi told Neji in certain disapproval. “There is an announcement expected of you tonight.”

“How does Queen Tsunade fare?” queried Neji in what he knew would be a failure of a change of subject.

King Hiashi's frown deepened. “You know perfectly well that you would be informed directly upon her awakening. Just as you know, I am not so easily dissuaded from my point.”

“Uncle,” said Neji in a manner with which he had never before addressed the king, “has it occurred to you at all that I may have already chosen my queen?”

Hiashi merely started, but Hinata broke away from her father's side to approach him head-on. Neji surprised her when he caught her by the elbows in something that might have become an embrace if the Hyuugas had been raised to do such things. As they weren't, Hinata only clutched at Neji's sleeves. Her wonder at his inference even briefly ridded her of the nervous stammer. “What are you saying, cousin?”

Instead of replying, Neji took her arm and led her away from King Hiashi, who stood floored and stifled from his nephew's retort. “I have never seen you dance, Hinata. Come and impress me, will you?”

---

In her swan form, Tenten fluttered wildly, but to no avail. The narrow, ground-level turret into which, with a wave of his bony fingers, Orochimaru had transported both her and Sasuke allowed no space for her wingspan. The most she could do was float in disgruntlement in the algae-riddled damp at the bottom of the turret, glaring balefully up at the sorcerer, who watched from a wooden casement window above.

Sasuke was perched on a rusted iron ring hung by a chain from the far ceiling, his head tilting this way and that in perturbation.

“Now do not favor me with such looks of hatred,” said Orochimaru in his slick tones. “Thank Tenten, Sasuke, for your predicament. She craved a company other than mine, such a spoiled, unsatisfied princess that she is. It is only that I did not want to play unfairly. If Tenten cannot make it to the ball at the palace, then you shan't either. I promise to return with a full report on the event.” The sorcerer grinned when they met his words with a cacophony of squawk and honk. “Oh, I see. You require even more company? I suppose it is cruel to keep two established lovers apart.”

Orochimaru snapped his fingers, his hand glowing. Sakura materialized near the room before plunging down, her startled scream cut off as she hit the water. “Here you are. Your friend can join you.” He paid no mind to Sakura's frantic flailing – the girl was evidently too shocked to swim well at the moment. “I myself must be off. It is the poorest show to be late for a ball, you'll agree.”

The window slammed to a cracking shut as he left them. Sasuke tugged on the iron ring with his hard, curved beak until the rust gave and the ring to hang on the way to the water. Sakura grabbed that chain at once and sputtered, her hair plastered like a rose-colored scarf around her face, algae sticking to her sopping dress.

I'm sorry, Tenten could only say to Sasuke, floating near to Sakura as the other woman caught her breath.

He has been waiting for a chance to torture us, Sasuke returned solemnly. He brushed the feathered tip of a wing over Sakura's cheek, then settled on his lover's shoulder. He will meet his end.

How? she demanded, hopeless. Look at us! There is no escape!

You may be wrong, the Uchiha differed. In my brief explorations of this dungeon, I have noticed a substantial amount of water.

Meaning what?

Meaning there is a leak somewhere in this wall through which you can most likely swim out into the lake.

Feeling daft, Tenten waved her long neck in protest. How could I abandon you?

How will Orochimaru be defeated if we do not try every potential route to success? Sasuke's eyes, though those of a raptor's, hardened on her. It is up to you, Tenten. I will do my best to lead Sakura out of here once she has calmed enough to hold her breath for so long. In the meantime, Orochimaru is planning to dispatch your prince, and I can do nothing for you any longer.

Tenten's fears had manifested. Orochimaru had finally played his final hand, and her options were either to wait and see if Neji overpowered him or if he could be slain essentially by her love. And she did not have the patience to see her love kill her lifelong companion.

Very well, she said to him, meeting Sakura's eyes. She thought of her mother, of the expression of strength Tsunade had worn in the moment before facing Orochimaru on the road to the river. A desire to possess equal strength rose so forcefully within her that she did not even say goodbye to her friends before diving beneath the surface to hunt for the way out – and the way to Neji.

---

“Neji,” said Hinata while her cousin led her in graceful circles amid the throng of other dancers, “is what you told my father true?”

“I was thinking you should help my future wife on our wedding day,” Neji told her, thinking of Tsunade's relentless slumber.

“You are so secretive,” she murmured. “Will you not tell me who she is?”

“I believe you will know.” To distract her for the moment, Neji turned her so that Hinata came face to face with an acquaintance of his, whose bright hair had been easily seen by his eyes and toward whom he had been steering Hinata for the duration of the dance. “Master Uzumaki,” he addressed the blond man, “allow me to introduce my cousin, Princess Hinata.”

“Oh! So this is the Hyuuga princess!” Uzumaki spoke with none of the gentle tones owned by the rest of the aristocratic gentlemen Hinata usually met. Rather, the astonishing blue of his eyes seemed to be occupied by optimism and perhaps some mischief instead of the usual scheming. “I get what all the talk's about. You are a gorgeous princess!”

Hinata immediately locked up. “G-g-gorgeous?” Her stutter was back, and when Uzumaki swept into a bow in the cape he seemed uncomfortable wearing, the princess colored rose-red from her neck to the ends of her coal-black bangs. Neji actually had to press a hand to her back in order to steady her.

“Call me Naruto,” the blond told her with a broad grin.

“I will leave her to you, Uzumaki,” said Neji, manually placing Hinata's hand in Naruto's before turning and walking off. The guests appeared to grow restless....

As if in response to his thoughts, the massive doors of the hall was knocked upon loudly enough for the sound to ring over the din of the crowd and the music of the orchestra. Neji almost smiled; she was as assertive as ever.

King Hiashi, in his ongoing befuddlement, sent a servant to answer, although Neji overhead him ask a clueless Gai who could be arriving, as every invited guest had already been accounted for. The prince felt an unfamiliar lurch in his chest, a combination of nerves and thrill palpitating his heart.

The doors were opened to reveal a woman, slim and smiling. Her bark-brown hair, falling over her dress's red trim, was lustrous in the sparkling of the chandeliers, out-shined by her darker eyes. The chatter and music hushed at the entrance of this unexpected woman – a princess, most supposed, or a highly ranked lady. Lee's mouth had dropped open so that his jaw came close to touching his chest.

Not far away, Hiashi had turned to Gai and gripped his shoulder hard enough for his knuckles to blanch. “Who is that?” he demanded in soft urgency of the advisor. His lips had grown thin. “Gai, tell me what Neji has told you of this woman!”

“Nothing, my lord,” responded Gai. “It is just...you see her yourself. She so resembles—”

“It can't be!” the king hissed. “Surely she was killed. The carriage in the rain....”

As Hiashi tumbled over his words, the arrival came to Neji, her smile warm and welcoming. “I was uncertain,” the prince confessed. So consumed by her presence, he did not even notice that the fabric of her dress which had previously been white was now pitch black. “I feared you would not—”

“Have more faith,” she interjected cheerfully. “I will always come to you.”

Neji took her hand, a smile of his own playing at his mouth. “Tenten.” He gestured to the orchestra. As the music swelled again, he led her into the slow waltz before all the world.

---

In the darkness shrouding Orochimaru's hidden domain, a single bubble blossomed on the surface of the lake, where it burst. An instant after, the swan that was Tenten burst similarly from the lake. She gained altitude as she headed for the curtain of vines leading away from the old castle.

The night was devoid of any light, but her bird eyes were sharp, and she remembered the formations of the trees. She was sure that she could navigate through the forest to the Hyuuga palace. But time, Tenten knew, was not on her side. And she could not predict Orochimaru's plan. Flying faster, she allowed herself to hope one more time.

She had someone waiting for her.

To Be Continued...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 9

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 04:54:45 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 9)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Orochimaru, Anko, Shikamaru, SasuSaku.
Rated: PG

Neji obscured himself behind a tree's wide trunk, mind racing in the shade of the leaves. A swan? He had seen no bodies of water near, and although he was not familiar with the terrain, there was no scent to indicate one within at least a mile. He had read in the various nature-focused books he favored that swans preferred moist, cool land.

He took a deep breath, prepared to ignore it, until the prince felt each individual hair on the back of his neck stand on end. A swan.

The most innocent of creatures, sleek and graceful. He watched it glide between trees, dappled sunlight dashing off its wings in golden arcs. Of course, Neji realized. It seemed to be, but it wasn't. How could anyone suspect a creature of treacherous deeds while in the form of a swan?

Without causing so much as a rustle of his shirt to disturb the quiet, Neji drew an arrow from the quiver at his back. The white bird was flying nearer wit each passing second, in which the prince grew ever more convinced that this had to be Tsunade's attacker now seeking him out for some cruel end. His mouth went dry and he nocked the arrow, the swan winging around an oak to his right. It trumpeted a cry Neji felt he could easily interpret as a challenge. With a thumb, he ruffled the tail of the arrow and waited.

Closer, he chanted inwardly. Closer. His blood rushed through every vein, but as badly he craved action, his patience endured. At last, the swan swept into a space through which he could send an arrow without interception.

Seizing the opportunity, Neji leapt out from behind the tree to land directly in front of the swan, scant feet between them. The swan blinked once in the confusion of any animal found by a hunter, but the prince released the deadly projectile before the bird could react. In the same instant, another bird, a raptor, burst from Neji's periphery and crashed into the swan a mere moment before the arrow could make contact. Both hurtled to safety, then took flight. What would have been a perfect shot to the swan's heart was now ruined.

Rage rose like flame inside Neji as instinct had his sprinting after the two. He avoided tree after tree, jumped logs, and all the while kept his hunter's eye trained on his target. He knew, almost tangibly, that allowing the swan to escape would be the gravest of mistakes. Bow clenched in hand, Neji ran and did not stop for anything.

---

Above, watched in the spaces between trees from the ground, Sasuke and Tenten flew ahead of Neji's footed chase.

He almost... Fairly traumatized, Tenten could not complete the sentence. There was a glassy sheen over the beady swan eyes.

He's a hunter, Sasuke succintly told her. And you are wild fowl. Did you think he would react otherwise?

But he seems so angry!

Sasuke was forced to speed up his own flapping to keep up with her. Slow down, Tenten, or we shall lose the prince.

No, no! she cried back. He's far too close already!

Close? I cannot even see him down there. If he loses track of us, he'll never make it to— An arrow suddenly shot up and between the two of them. Sasuke involuntarily cawed. Let's go, he amended.

They shot through the air, occasionally shocked when a lightning-fast length of pointed wood whizzed up at them, only missing by inches.

How is a pampered prince so quick? demanded Sasuke in clear irritation, risking a glance at the figure bounding over rocks and creeks below.

Tenten wagged her neck, disturbed. He was not pampered when it came to his training, Sasuke. Neji is a highly skilled combatant, and his teacher, Gai, is one of the fastest men in both East and West Fire. It is no wonder to me that he can move so. And he is remarkably stubborn.

So he shan't give up on us? At Tenten's nod, Sasuke said, Good. The sun has halfway set already. We'll be back at Orochimaru's castle within the next quarter hour, so if your prince does not stop following... He paused to dodge another arrow aimed for either him or the swan. Or he does not kill us first, he will be just in time for a reunion.

Tenten replied, I want to thank you.

It's thanks enough knowing that if I were a man at the present, I could beat this Neji Hyuuga to a transformation of his own.

She would have smiled if she'd had lips.

Their progress continued smoothly enough until they came near the wall surrounding Orochimaru's claimed palace. Sasuke flew sideways, signaling for Tenten to follow him as they descended to a level putting them in direct danger of Neji's archery so as to fly through the vine-covered entrance, leading the prince.

Tenten could have gone into shock when another arrow went through the feathers at the tip of her left wing without actually harming the wing itself. As they emerged into the open, they flew to where Sakura stood by her feeble shelter, away and unseen from the lake. Sasuke settled on the pink-haired woman's shoulder comfortably as Tenten ruffled in icy fear by her dress's hem.

Go to the lake, Sasuke said. He'll be over there.

She immediately protested. I cannot! He meant to end it with that last arrow. Neji shall kill me, Sasuke!

Sakura even seemed to understand her predicament despite her lack of recent involvement. In what might have been too bold a move had Tenten not so hungered for any sort of comfort in this moment, Haruno leaned down and ran two gentle fingers down the curve of the long swan neck. The physical contact helped to regulate Tenten's heartbeat enough for her to think more clearly.

If you fail to see him now, your chance is lost, Sasuke reminded her. He will mark you as a mistake, a loss, and he will never return here to find you but continue his search elsewhere.

The solemnity of his words rang too true for Tenten to attempt a path around, and presently she nodded. Saying nothing, she spread her wings and left them, gliding toward the moonlit lake.

---

Neji's chest heaved from the exertion of running so far and long after the swan and the meddling raptor. His arm did not yet burn from the loosing of so many arrows, although his quiver was three-fours emptier than it had been upon leaving the Hyuuga grounds this morning.

The presence of the waning crescent moon above disconcerted him. He had been mostly unconscious of the passage of time during his chase, as well as the darkness brought on by night. He was now not entirely certain of where he was after following that swan. The old castle in its disrepair combined with the lake, eerily uninhabited by wildlife, succeeded in unsettling him. Shifting his grip on his bow, Neji stared across the stone bridge and wondered hazy thoughts.

But when the sound of small pebbles hitting the water alerted him, Neji turned back to the lake and came close to gaping as the swan descended onto the lake directly in his field of vision, unprotected in the open space. Confusion caught at his mind, but he shoved it down. His life had taught him to be confident at all times.

Repositioning himself to shoot, Neji took aim. He did have confidence in this. Undeterred when the swan landed gracefully on the water, nor when it jerked in panic to see the moon, currently covered by clouds. Yet he could not help but cry out when, as before, the raptor appeared without signal and and hit him upside the head with its beak. Incensed, Neji turned on the preying bird. He reached for a new arrow as the impact had caused him to drop the other, but before he could nock it a light washed over him from behind and fell on the raptor, who at once ceased the chance to get away.

Neji whirled around to face the source of the illumination and witnessed a whole pillar of wave-like light rise around and above the swan, swirling gold in some places, white in others. The water it touched foamed and jumped in the reflection of the moon, now naked in the sky. When the light fell away, receding into the water's depths, his previously narrowed, colorless eyes widened.

In the shallows of the lake, right before him as in a dream he had not yet dared to have, stood Tenten. She was resplendent in her still impeccable red and white gown, her mahogany-brown hair long and waving to her elbows. Eyes Neji had longed for days to meet now did just that with a smile more powerful even than the one her lips now formed.

“Hello, Neji,” Tenten softly said.

Neji barely noticed even when he dropped both bow and arrow to the stone of the bridge, hastening forward even as Tenten lifted her arms to him. His feet splashed through the water until he finally took her by the waist, and in his disbelief, whirled her in midair to feel how her body resisted the gravity Neji practically no longer felt.

Placing her again on her feet, neither spoke a word before their lips met in a kiss lost somewhere between frenzy and elation, Tenten's hand gripping in the back of his shirt, Neji's buried in her hair behind neck. When they parted, speech seemed a faint memory to him.

“Neji,” she breathed, her forehead dropping to rest against the curve of his jaw. “I missed you so.”

As her fingers dug deeper into his shoulders, he pulled back just to look at her face. “No one would believe me,” he managed to tell her, slowly escaping his own amazement's thrall. “But, Tenten, I knew.”

Her face was a tapestry of shifting emotion, first joy at his presence, replaced quickly by obvious fear. “You cannot stay, Neji.”

“Can't stay?” He pulled the princess flush against him to show her his thoughts on this subject. “Tenten, no. I refuse to so much as let you out of my sight again!”

“Please, Neji, listen—” But she froze when from a distance there came a call of her name in a low, rasping voice. “No...”

“What?” Neji asked. “What's the matter?”

“It's him! He is early tonight!” Tenten stepped in front of him, but he reached for both of her hands and held fast. “He has me under a spell!” she told him, tormented.

She could feel Neji's hands heat in anger against hers. “Who does?” When she didn't answer, “Tenten, who does?” he demanded.

“Tenten!” came the call again.

Neji took her by the shoulders and eased her back. “Let him come.” He put a hand to the hilt of his sword. “I will—”

Tenten did not budge. “No, Neji! Orochimaru has power higher than a human man's! You must go!”

Together they hurried out of the water and to the bridge. “You're coming with me then,” Neji asserted, reaching for her arm to help her over the steps.

“I cannot,” she said, intertwining their fingers even as she hoped he would leave. “With daybreak, I'll change again into a swan.”

He was beginning to understand, and Neji's jaw set.

“Please, Neji, you must trust me. If he finds you, we'll have nothing. Go!”

“There must be a way of breaking the spell,” he pressed, planting his feet when Tenten tried to push him along. Even in danger, his desire to stay with her controlled him.

Tenten's thoughts flashed to the scroll she had seen in Orochimaru's tower. “There is,” she sighed, having nearly forgotten. “But...”

“Tell me.”

“You must make a vow of everlasting love.”

The word stopped him, but only for the briefest of moments. Neji's tight fingers now relaxed over her terror-cold hands. “Tenten, I make it. Right now. I've wanting nothing else since...”

“You are to prove it to the world!” she insisted softly.

Here he faltered, a river in his path of success. “How?”

Tenten's hands fisted when another woman's might have wrung. Her knuckles blanched, but no answer was forthcoming.

“How?”

“I don't know!” she burst out, almost physically buckling from the pressure of their situation.

“Tenten!”

“Go!” She did push him now, over a shrub.

Neji swallowed, thinking rapidly. His uncle, of all people, came to mind. Turning, he whispered to her, “There will be a ball. Tomorrow night, come to the palace.” He gestured back toward his home. “Before the entire world, Tenten, I will make a vow of everlasting love.”

Orochimaru's voice shook with fury this time. “Tenten!”

“I am coming!” Tenten called out. She wanted to express her gratitude and the love she herself felt, but there was no time.

“Tomorrow night,” repeated Neji.

She could only nod, and in spite of herself, a smile surfaces. “Tomorrow night,” she agreed. “Now go!”

Neji at last made to run, then stopped and turned. From his pocket he drew something small, and Tenten caught the shining object he threw to her. She looked into her clutching hands to see the golden necklace, a long-ago gift from the Hyuuga. When she looked up again, Neji had disappeared.

“TENTEN!”

With a gasp, she spun to face Orochimaru, simultaneously hiding the hand holding the necklace behind her back. He scrutinized her in half curiosity, half anger. “Were you unable to hear me calling you?”

“I...”

“I heard voices,” he went on.

Not far away, Sasuke and Sakura suddenly spoke to each other far more loudly. Tenten had to restrain a sigh of relief, but to keep her friends from any vestiges of the sorcerer's wrath, she spoke up. “I – I have—”

“You have what?”

“I...have decided to accept your offer and marry you,” she said quickly. For effect, she curtsied deeply before him.

His eyebrows shot up moments before a smile twisted his face. “Oh, Tenten, you are indeed wiser than I initially thought. And kind! And good! And – oh, by the way,” he veered off-subject, smile falling away sooner than it had appeared. “You would not be aware of who possesses this, would you?” With a snap of his fingers, the longbow Neji had held came to his hand.

“ 'Come to the palace',” mocked Orochimaru. “ 'Before the world, a vow of everlasting love'!” With a mighty throw, Neji's bow splashed into the center of the lake.

Tenten's eyes narrowed, and she threw an arm out as a physical shield between him and her. “I will never be yours!” Orochimaru advanced, and she raged on, “I will marry Prince Neji, and you haven't the power to stop me.”

“Oh?” Seizing her wrist, Orochimaru succeeded in prying the necklace from her. “I hate to inform you of this, Tenten, but you have neglected a rather imperative detail. Tomorrow night,” he said, nostrils flaring, “there will be no moon!”

Tenten's widened eyes flicked to the sky as Sasuke and Sakura's talking abruptly ceased. Above the waning crescent moon no thicker than the breadth of a needle glimmered on. A new moon would shed no light on this lake the following day.

“No,” she exhaled as Orochimaru left her, his overjoyed laughter torture in her ears.

Neji!

To Be Continued...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 8

Thu, 20 Mar 2008 20:12:43 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 8)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Orochimaru, Anko, Shikamaru, SasuSaku.
Rated: PG

Neji woke later than he would have liked, meaning he woke too late to avoid crossing paths with his uncle in the corridor leading to the entrance hall of the palace.

“Neji,” came the king's expected interruption, “where are you hurrying to?”

The younger Hyuuga detected suspicion in Hiashi's tone and quickly decided that lying would not currently be in his best interest. “I am investigating the source of the green flash Shizune spoke of.” He carefully omitted Queen Tsunade's cryptic words as he had not told anyone of his exchange with her on the road.

Hiashi did not overlook the filled quiver and stringed bow slung over Neji's broad back, nor the sword strapped to his hip. He weighed Neji with a measuring stare as he contemplated Shizune's earlier advice. “Very well,” said King Hiashi. Not ready to surrender his own plan, he added, “Just make sure you return by tomorrow night.”

His nephew's face, already devoid of most expression, now went completely blank. “What happens tomorrow night, uncle?”

“I have arranged for a gathering; a ball intended for the royals of the surrounding realms. It is time I stopped hiding you from the world.” What Hiashi did not say was, Now that Tenten is gone, there is no need.

Neji began, “I am uncertain of how long I will—”

“Be here, Neji,” Hiashi sternly interjected. “You are my successor.”

The strict reminder kept Neji frozen in place until Hiashi was down the hall and out of sight. His uncle's words were unnecessary. He had not forgotten his duties as crown prince.

But, he thought as he strode purposefully out of the palace, first things first.

---

The dawn brought a realization upon Tenten. As a swan, she was deprived of conversation with Sakura, who had hidden Sasuke well from her knowledge. In the same way Tenten transformed on the lake, Sasuke transformed in the ash tree, opposite in direction from where Tenten had previously taken the meals Sakura brought, so that she had never seen the Uchiha at night.

In the day, when both Sasuke and Tenten occupied the bodies of winged creatures, they could understand each other as clearly as they have in communication with human speech, not the clicking and trumpeting of a raptor and swan. They concluded that Orochimaru knew nothing of the magic's loophole as the spell was designed to induce loneliness.

Why do you stay here? asked Tenten after Anko had come and gone with crumbs for her and seeds for Sasuke.

My situation is identical to yours. Sakura chose to remain with me. The raptor's head turned to the small shelter where his lover slept. If I want to change, I must be in the tree. Human only at night is better than not human at all.

Tenten's thoughts turned to Neji. I failed to stay with the man who wants me, and now... She fluttered her wings in agitation. If not for this spell, I would fly to him as fast as I flew away.

Sasuke nodded, a bobbing of a small head, then paused. In the next instant, he soared down from the branches of the ash to the dirt at the lake's edge where she floated. The dark eyes of the raptor met those of the swan.

Why don't you, Tenten?

What?

His mind whirred. True, you can't be recognized, but the spell enables us to travel even so. By flight.

In her surprise, Tenten splashed the surrounding water. Fly? But I haven't—

Try, Sasuke encouraged her. It's easier than you think.

Obediently (for who was she to trust, if not this kindred victim of sorcery?), Tenten lifted her wings and flapped. And flapped again, and again, until the breeze caught the underside of her feathers, and suddenly she was lifted, water dripping from her webbed swan feet. It felt...natural, in this body.

Sasuke joined her in the air. Are you steady?

This is wonderful! She ignored his question, elation giving way to dejection as she trumpeted, But it won't help! I've no idea where we are or how to find Neji.

He blinked at her, eyes shining with intelligence. I am in this position because I tracked my brother here from East Fire. Do you doubt that I can find the country in between?

Tenten curved her long neck in embarrassment and made no reply.

Admittedly, it would be simpler if I could at least find a map of the shortest route to the main roads. We could look over trees, but that is time consuming, especially since you aren't used to flying and will be slow at first. Sasuke peered toward the highest turret of Orochimaru's castle. Certainly, he must have one. He would not have been able to locate you for an attack otherwise. Come!

Tenten went winging behind her new friend toward the ivy-wrapped turret, blinking rapidly to peer through the window and see into the dark room. It is open on the other side, she commented when she saw a burst of light across from them. They flew around the perimeter together, and Sasuke waited for her to enter first.

A yellowed map was almost unseen upon the wall inside the room, crammed as it was with cracked vials and flasks, globes, and charred parchment. Sasuke went to examine the map, but Tenten perched her white body on top of an empty bird cage to look at an unrolled scroll on the center desk. Disorganized as the room was, it seemed Orochimaru often made use of it. There was no dust lingering on the parchment, and closer inspection showed the princess that the string tying it together had been snapped apart unintentionally.

When she read the scroll's contents, she would have paled if not for her form with its already snow-white plumage. Sasuke! she exclaimed. I've found the way to—

But the raptor's head suddenly twisted to face the closed door. Anko, he informed her. Quick! Out the window!

Just as they escape the tower, the saw through the glass Anko's thin, rag-dressed body emerge through the door. She dutifully glanced around for disturbances but pinpointed no problems in the room where Orochimaru stored his work.

When Anko retreated, Tenten would have sighed in relief had she been in human form. When can we leave to find Neji?

Don't rush, Sasuke told her. You must have a plan. We'll find this Prince Neji, lead him back here by sunset, and when the moon rises—

He'll see that it is me! Tenten finished for him. Brilliant, Sasuke! But what about Sakura?

The raptor was already riding an air current toward the stone outcropping from which the stream emerged. She can take care of herself, I assure you. Let's not waste time, Tenten. Follow me.

She did as beckoned, and together the two birds flew toward the wet portion of the stone wall that was the backside of the waterfall. Sasuke led her into a nosedive toward the ground and through a slim space occupied only by hanging, flowered vines instead of rock. Tenten assessed that this must have been how Orochimaru went to and from his solitary domain.

Passing through, they burst into the open, sky a mass of blue dotted by pristine clouds as miles upon miles of blooming green forest stretched beneath them. And Tenten grew stronger with every downward thrust of her wings.

---

“I hear there's to be quite an event tomorrow,” Lee said to Neji, guiding his horse alongside the prince's. “From what my father tells me, an heir to every kingdom on every continent is going to be present. That will make at least half female, you know.”

“My uncle must be thinking to distract me,” Neji replied stoically. “It won't work.”

“And what about East Fire? If Queen Tsunade is missed...”

“Shizune organized a party of servants to ride to the castle there guised as Queen Tsunade going home. The citizens of East Fire have no reason to think she is absent.”

“That was clever of Shizune. And you, Neji. You think we can find some sort of malevolent creature that stole our dear Tenten from us?” Lee swept his gaze over the area dubiously. “This forest is so dense for something large to move through it!”

“That,” said Neji, “is why I ask that we share our search. Ride south, and I shall go further west. We will meet in the palace at nightfall.”

Lee's response was no less than faithful, and he galloped off with perhaps too much energy, as Neji had evaluated him too loud as disruptive for hunting, especially if the sought creature controlled enchantment. Knowing that any southern path Lee took would inevitably lead him back to the Hyuuga grounds, Neji rode on without concern. When the path ended, he dismounted and tied his horse to a sturdy oak before continuing on foot through uncleared territory.

It unnerved him how few sounds could be heard. More common was the wind through the millions of leaves and the twigs and brush that snapped beneath his boots. Neji's eyes, however, were sharper than his ears. He spied the tracks of animals long since passed through and claw marks of beasts upon the tree trunks. What he found most odd was that almost every trail led the way Lee had gone – as though they refused to traverse uncharted land. The other man would likely encounter more game and wildlife than Neji. That meant the better chance of finding something was south.

Gaging the pair of minutes ago when Lee had started off, Neji called once after him. Lee's hearing was keener than his, and he suspected they could still rejoin before too much time was lost trying to find each other in a change of plan.

Then, turning back to where his horse was secured, Neji saw the swan.

---

The flight over the forest was smooth and warm in the sun until Tenten heard a voice call for Lee. With a start, she immediately turned her head up to where Sasuke flew above as her guard. It's Neji! she called to him, heart beating drum-like in her breast.

Sasuke predicted her reaction and swooped to block her with his entire wingspan before she could dart down to the trees. Do not be reckless! He won't know—

Tenten, however, was in no mood for warnings, and she was the longer bird. Maneuvering around Sasuke, she took her own dive for the treetops. The raptor's subsequent moment of hesitation was all she required to lose him in her eagerness.

She folded her wings to avoid the scrapings of branches on the way down and propelled herself only six feet over the forest floor. Tenten moved cautiously around trunks and untamed shrubs, seeking the prince she knew to be present.

To Be Continued...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 7

Tue, 18 Mar 2008 23:12:55 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 7)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Orochimaru, Anko, Shikamaru, SasuSaku.
Rated: PG

Over the first days Tenten spent at Orochimaru's secluded castle, she saw little of Sakura, who came only to bring Tenten her a proper meal at night. Otherwise the only forthcoming sustenance were bread crumbs tossed onto the lake during the day when the princess was locked in the form of a swan. She had no choice but to accept the stale and then soggy bread or risk weakness from lack of nourishment. Tenten had no doubt this was one of Orochimaru's ways of demonstrating his control.

Each night, a few minutes before dawn while Tenten remained as a woman, Orochimaru came down to the lake and knelt before her, his proposal growing slicker each time the dreaded question was posed. Tenten never offered him any indication of even considering acceptance, however, and she understood his patience to be thinning.

On the fifth night since her carriage had been overturned, Sakura Haruno approached Tenten before her reversion took place. This was not unusual. The pink-haired woman tended to leave a steaming tray on the north side of the lake, and it was to that shore that Tenten drew near before the moon's reflection touched the wings she had yet to consider as her own. Tonight, however, Sakura carried no tray and waited until the moon arrived and Orochimaru's spell receded, leaving Tenten free to greet the other woman at the same eye level.

“I have something I would like you to see,” Sakura explained when Tenten inquired into her change of routine. “Or rather, someone I would like you to meet.”

Tenten followed her in befuddlement. She had not been aware of the presence of others besides Orochimaru, Anko, Sakura, and herself in this beautiful and depressing place. The two women walked around the lake to the south side until they reached the powerful trunk of an old ash tree. Before the princess could say anything to her new if mysterious friend, a figure stepped out from behind the tree.

A man, hair and eyes identical in shade, blended well with the shadowed foliage in the surrounding night. Even his shirt and trousers were black. The grim set of his shoulders and mouth clarified his discontent, which hung over him like an impregnable curtain. Yet when Sakura went to him and took his hand, Tenten saw her initial impression was mistaken.

“Princess Tenten,” Sakura began, her nervousness adding breathiness to her voice. “This is Sasuke Uchiha.”

Sasuke inclined his head a fraction in acknowledgment. “Princess,” he muttered shortly.

Tenten could restrain herself no longer, forming the question she had longed to ask since first seeing Sakura. “How have you both come to be here?”

Neither Sasuke nor Sakura seemed surprised by the outburst. Sasuke's answer was nothing short of direct. “My brother murdered our parents. I came here to kill my brother. When I did, Orochimaru trapped me.”

Sakura, accustomed to the Uchiha's terse indelicacy, volunteered details. “Itachi – Sasuke's brother – was to be a subject for Orochimaru's magical experiments. When Sasuke took revenge on Itachi before Orochimaru could test the return of his powers, Sasuke took his brother's place.” Her deep green eyes turned downward at the reminiscence. “As it turned out, what powers Orochimaru did have was enough.”

“For what?” Tenten absently gripped at her soft skirt, fearing the answer.

“You could say,” Sasuke told her, “that I am the proof that Orochimaru's plans for you would work.”

“I do not under...” But then Tenten did understand, and the truth hit her like a blow to the head. “Sasuke, what spell has Orochimaru put on you?”

When he did not speak right away, Sakura moved forward and saved him from the question. “Please, Princess, come eat something.”

Tenten relented, urging to be called by her first name. She could not seem to stop speaking even when she entered the four wooden panels fit for one to two people, in which Sakura cooked for all three of them. They dined outside of it, sitting in the cool, moist grass. “But why are you here, Sakura, if Orochimaru has not cast anything on you?”

Sakura paused in drinking from a chipped glass filled with lake water. Her eyes flicked to Sasuke's and held. “I am in love,” she said. The words were simple enough but the meaning behind them could have scalded Tenten with their heat. “Orochimaru allows me to stay here so long as I provide for Sasuke, and now, for you as well.”

The notion made Tenten take a long, shaking breath, prompting Sakura to ask if she was all right. Nodding, she released the flatware she had been using, knowing she could not eat now. “It is only that...that I am as well.” The silence born between the three was instantly crushing, and she continued. “He is the prince of West Fire and—” She paused, swallowed.

Tenten had been going to say that he was now lost to her, but she hesitated. In her mind's eye she could see Neji, standing erect and proud as he had when he had first seen her in his uncle's ballroom. His eyes had turned softly on her for perhaps the first time in their lives, and he had filled her with love that she had refused to give him right away. Even when she had rejected him, Tenten had discerned a flicker of determination in the ivory depths of his gaze. Just because she had run, she now thought, did not mean the Hyuuga heir would not take chase.

“And I know somehow,” the princess said at last, “that he is on his way here.”

Sakura's hand fell over her wrist. “Do you truly believe so, Tenten?”

She attempted a smile. “I can practically feel Neji's approach. Like the two of you, we are bonded beyond danger. He has been with me since we were both too young to comprehend the meaning of higher emotions. I now realize something I didn't see before.” Her fingers rose to her throat where, until but a few nights ago, the necklace from the Hyuuga family had rested. “He can only love me as he knows how. I love him enough that words do not matter in the least!”

Tenten stood, turning her eyes to the sky where there glinted millions of stars, all visible from wherever Neji was. Her smile was genuine now and came easily. “It is certain. He will find me, and then I—”

“Wait.” In her unanticipated rapture, Tenten had grown loud as the sky had grown light, and Sasuke quickly silenced her. It seemed unbelievable that they had already passed the majority of the night together. “He comes,” said Sasuke.

Tenten knew he was not talking about Neji. Turning, she faced Orochimaru as he and Anko approached the trio.

“I see you have met Sasuke and Sakura.” Orochimaru eyed Tenten with steady, almost penetrating regard. “Do you know why I am here, Tenten?”

She had long since abandoned her fear of the sorcerer and taken on resentment as a replacement. “No,” bit out the princess, allowing her previous joy to leak from her like water through a sieve. “Why don't you remind me?”

Orochimaru's sickly pale face went taut in the cheeks, but he bent to his knee as he had grown accustomed so that Tenten towered over him. “A simple question,” he said, “for an apparently simple girl. Will you marry me?” The tone was overly sweet, and he ignored completely the annoyance that had crossed Tenten's face at his comment.

“Every night you ask a fool's question,” replied Tenten steadily, the waves of her freed hair catching in the evening breeze to dance. “And every night you receive the only answer I offer.”

His eyes narrowed nearly to slits. “Think carefully.”

Rather, she told him immediately, “You can kill me first.” The light in her dark eyes was more than enough to convey her conviction. Behind her, Sasuke watched dispassionately, his lover more obviously concerned.

“You can continue this way,” said Orochimaru, “at least until I resort to tactics more persuasive than the shape of swan. It seems, however, you require another day to reconsider your options.” He gestured to the horizon as the sun made its first appearance.

Tenten's shoulders drooped as she walked stoically toward the lake. She was not surprised when Sasuke fell into step with her, though she was unsure of what to think when he stopped at the ash tree and began to climb its branches. She continued into the water just as the spell activated a spiral of mist, light, and wet, all rising around her, forcing her to close her eyes or go blind.

When she opened them again, the colors of the world were changed. Tenten could see, however, even in this minimized vantage point that Sasuke was no longer there. Instead, perched in the highest branch of the ash tree, was a bright-eyed raptor. The yellow and gray beak appeared deadly in its sharpness, the frightening claws at its feet a clear threat.

Tenten fluttered her wings upon the water, sending ripples along the surface in the tree's direction. From above, Sasuke tilted his feathered head. They were two victims of the same cruel and twisted mind.

“Sweet dreams,” Orochimaru called, returning to the castle, Anko at his heels.

A distance away, Sakura sighed. “Goodnight,” she murmured to them both before turning to go into her little shelter for a day's sleep.

In the dawning light, two birds continued to stare at each other. It was a strange sort of condolence, but it was all the choice they had available to them.

A single tear fell from the swan's eye to commence another ripple on the lake.

---

“Listen to me Neji. It seems to be, but it isn't.”

Neji barely slept after receiving Hinata's bulky text. Between what his cousin had told him and the whisperings of Queen Tsunade prior to her coma, he could not have been more sure of the engineer of Tenten's kidnapping. By candlelight he poured over the information of shape-shifting beasts alone in his room, satisfied further when he read: Transformations are often signaled by light of some kind, usually a flash or intense glow of dazzling color.

His heart raced with the prospect of what waited before him. “I'll find you, Tenten.” His eyes, bleary from so many words in weak light, went to sit at the window as it filled with both stars and the pale light of daybreak. “No matter what it takes,” he whispered, hand fisted near his chest.

The prince did not notice when his head landed on the table, his cheek against the open pages of the book. He did not dream but even in sleep continued to plan a hunt that would determine his future and that of the woman he was now most certain he loved.

Between his clenched fingers was Tenten's golden necklace, the swan engraved on it turned toward him.

To Be Continued...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 6

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 22:09:25 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 6)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Orochimaru, Anko, Shikamaru, SasuSaku.
Rated: PG

Queen Tsunade did not awaken to elaborate on her advice to Neji, leaving the prince with a mystery as to her meaning. King Hiashi ordered a team of servants to care for the queen until such a time when she would wake from her comatose state. Both Hyuuga men dealt with stressful situations; the queen out of commission and her daughter's whereabouts unknown.

Shizune had fallen asleep before the fire the night she had journeyed to tell of the attack upon her leader and now claimed no memory of the event. Devastated, she had remained by the queen's side since Tsunade was brought back to the palace.

Neji set several of his subordinates to work researching possibilities of magic, kidnapping, myths about light, anything to do with East Fire's monarch's words. He himself began a training regime even more strict than the one he had undergone before. Almost every spare moment was spent with Lee in hand-to-hand combat or his father, Gai, an old hand with swordplay.

Both of them had something to say of his obsession.

“It's madness!” exclaimed Gai in the midst of a duel of blades with the prince. “If it is magic that kidnapped Tenten—” Here he paused to clench his teeth while blocking a high thrust from Neji's advance. “—you will have a difficult time defeating the wielder with earthly weapons!”

“I've no choice,” maintained Neji, urging Gai to keep up his offense with a swipe at the advisor's ankles. “I will rescue her in whatever way I must!”

Lee watched stony-faced from a safe distance. After the ring of steel on steel had repeated enough to rival with even the church bells on holy days, he asked (quietly, for once), “You really believe she is alive?”

At that, Neji flung the sword to the ground and whirled to face his longtime friend. “Of course. Don't you?”

“I...” Lee's face looked on the verge of crumpling. “It's been almost four days, Neji, and you've had the whole of the kingdoms in both East and West Fire keeping watch for her. Wouldn't there be some word by now unless Tenten was—”

“She's out there,” Neji told him, his tone so firm it allowed no room for the other man to contend otherwise. “Tenten is strong. You know that.”

“Yes, but...she was taken in a flash, Neji. Queen Tsunade said she's gone. 'Gone' could mean...” Lee stopped, unwilling to continue after seeing the look that entered Neji's pallid eyes.

Gai sighed, then stepped forward to set a hand on one of Neji's straightened shoulders. “We cannot be certain of anything, Prince Neji, until we have seen it for ourselves. Lee is right to think logically, but I should think I have taught him to hold onto his hope longer than this.” His son visibly drooped in stance.

“Do the implications of the predicament not bother you?” Lee asked at last, trying to find some leeway for the justification of his worry.

“What bothers me,” intoned the prince in a low enough tone so that he would be heard by only the royal advisor and his son and not any of the courtiers roaming the sunny yards, “is that I ever let her leave me.”

For several moments, the two bowl-haired men looked sadly on their future king.

Neji recovered quickly, standing at his full height and taking on his usual confident air. “But it is no matter because I will bring her home here.”

---

“This is what concerns me,” King Hiashi said to Shizune. Beside window of Queen Tsunade's current bedchamber, the room she had so recently vacated only to return within the day, he watched Neji train and exchange words with Gai and Lee. “Neji makes a decision and cannot part from it no matter the circumstances.”

“One may call that dedication, my lord,” Shizune replied. Her voice seemed hollow, as though individual syllables could echo within it, from her place at Tsunade's bedside. “This is not a quality a great many young men possess these days.”

Pearlescent, age-lined eyes closed for a moment, considering. “This is true. But I would not have Neji destroy himself over the memory of Princess Tenten.”

“Memory?”

“She must be dead,” Hiashi said, failing to apologize for the cold reality of his words even when Shizune flinched. “Only if she appears, and soon, will I alter my thought on this. We do not know who attacked your mistress, but harm was clearly the intent. To kill the queen's only daughter – King Jiraiya's single chance for a legacy – would be the one thing that could kill the queen herself without losing a drop of blood.”

“But my queen is not dead!” Shizune pleaded. “She but sleeps, King Hiashi! Can that not mean Tenten still lives?”

“Yet I do not see any stirrings in the queen here.” Hiashi paused to study the face of his ally of so many years. Tsunade's face was paler despite the sunlight filtering in through the window, her hair lackluster in the sleep plait Shizune had tied the strands into. The hooded brown eyes did not seem even to twitch.

“Give him some time,” said Shizune to the older man, “I implore you. If it is passion your son feels toward Tenten, then surely that can lead him to at least traces of the truth. And if he finds clues of her death, then...” The assistant to Queen Tsunade hesitated, tears thickening her throat. “At least we will know.”

Hiashi turned his observing eyes to her. “You believe he could do this?”

“Do not you, my lord?”

The king cast his eyes to the far wall, half-dazed. “I do. But I fear that he will and then never recover from the shock of Tenten's death.”

“It is a risk he will have to take,” acknowledged Shizune, her intelligent eyes narrowing at the sight of Prince Neji once again taking up swords with Gai. “And willingly, I think, he will.”

“But look at him!” exclaimed the king, failing to acknowledge that Shizune was already doing so. “He has been at this since bringing Tsunade back here. I cannot bear to see him so tormented.” He paused, considering what he would say next. “When my brother Hizashi died, I experienced the same inner tearing which Neji now suffers. To be ripped apart from the inside is the ultimate form of execution, Shizune.” Hiashi rested a clenched fist on the window sill. “On top of that, Neji is my heir. The torture he is performing on his mind can only damage him. Such does not befit the leader of a kingdom.”

Shizune regarded the ivory-eyed monarch with placid features until she finally gave a soft exhalation that was not quite a sigh. “You are correct in that, King Hiashi. What was it you did to save yourself from your thoughts?”

“I married, at once. I began a new family to replace that which I had lost and raised Neji for Hizashi.” Hiashi turned to her, his eyes glazed with reverie. “What do you suggest?”

“Merry-making.” She said it as simply as Tsunade would have in wakefulness. “A ball. Summon eligible princesses and let them distract Neji for awhile.” Shizune's lower lip began to tremble, betraying her usually impenetrable strength. “It is true, after all, that Tenten is – was – not the only girl plausible for marrying your nephew.”

Hiashi nodded, though the movement spoke of heaviness. “Very well. A ball it is.” A ball, thought the king, that would feel more like a wake in these conditions.

---

When night fell, Neji gave in to the urgings of the green-bedecked men to take in a meal and get some rest only due to the knowledge that he would not be at his physical best if he resisted. After washing for bed, he traversed the quiet halls to his bedchamber alone, the darkness on his face faintly revealed by the flickering candelabra on the walls.

When he neared his quarters, his excellent periphery took notice of a flash of white to his far rear-left, and he whirled to come face to face with his cousin, the princess Hinata.

She wore a sleeping gown of pale lavender and over that, a star-white dressing robe. Her long hair, the same shade of black as his own, was gathered over one shoulder. She appeared paler in the dim, inconsistent light, and this emphasized the expression of solemn anticipation on her face.

Neji paused. He and his cousin rarely encountered one another, their upbringings so entirely different. He had remained at the palace with Tenten while she was sent off to school in order to become a mannered lady of the court, since he, Neji, would be assuming the position that was actually her birthright. In light of this, he had always expected at least a little bitterness from Hinata, although the Hyuuga princess had never once indicated such.

Now, she stood waiting for him, her arms occupied by a thick tome, the weathered binding of which had been only recently cleared of years of dust.

“Hinata.” Neji hesitated, not sure if he should have used her formal title. Concluding from the lack of change in her stance or expression that she did not take offense, he went on, “What have you come here for at so late an hour?”

“T-to give you...well...this, Neji.” She took a timid step toward him, and when he did not promptly ignore her, ventured closer. “This volume was found in the higher level of the library. Within it is some information you may find h-helpful...” She faltered here as she made her assumption. “...in f-finding Princess Tenten.”

Neji regarded her quizzically but accepted the large book nonetheless. She did not immediately leaving but took a moment to watch as he opened to the page marked by a long, yellowed ribbon. Hundreds of lines of small-print text wrapped around an illustration of a mouse nibbling at a crumb. The picture showed the mouse morphing, enlarging and elongating, until the final form the creature assumed was that of a wide-winged dragon.

Neji stared, at once baffled and enlightened by the image. “Hinata,” he murmured, voice coated with realization. “You believe that what attacked Queen Tsunade was a beast?”

The younger royal nodded. “S-specifically, a shape-shifter. M-many of the girls at finishing school were very superstitious of the mystical arts, and one of them gave me this book s-so I would not be totally i-ignorant.” She took a deep breath to try and alleviate the stammer she had rarely been able to overcome in her life.

“What makes you think...”

“If she was kidnapped by m-magic,” Hinata continued, “then a creature that could change its form would be most c-capable. It would b-be difficult to track.”

Neji stared contemplatively at the illustration for another few seconds. The surrounding text told of transformations depending on the time of day, the presence of a certain star, the age of a creature, the light of the moon. So many variables quickly confused him, and despair reached gnarled fingers into his spirits.

Said Hinata in reminder, “But you are an excellent h-hunter, Neji.”

The prince's eyes darted from the old page to those of his cousin, silver meeting silver. Hinata lowered her gaze, but Neji's lips slowly curved. For a brief moment, he rested a hand on the princess's slim shoulder.

“Thank you, Hinata. You have accomplished that at which any number of scholars have failed.” Without another word, Neji slipped into his quarters, the book from his cousin tucked firmly in hand. A plan was forming in the prince's mind, as Hinata could easily tell.

What she could not discern was any sign of that plan's success.

To Be Continued...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 5

Sat, 01 Mar 2008 20:52:38 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 5)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Hanabi, Orochimaru, Anko, Shikamaru, SasuSaku.
Rated: PG

The storm broke an hour after Neji returned to the palace with Tsunade. In the opposite direction of the wreckage of the carriage, deep into the wilderness that was beyond West Fire's far border but was still considered to be within King Hiashi's domain, was a waterfall, raging now from the swell the downpour had given it. Crystalline water rushed from the top of the crags all the way to the river separating East and West Fire, providing the land its excellent vegetation.

Behind the cliff, to one side of the less energetic stream, was an ancient, stone castle – less grand than either Tsunade's or Hiashi's but sturdier. In the moonlight, the old stone shone silver. The flowered vines that climbed its scarred walls and spiraled its turrets loaned the structure a magical air, as though such loveliness could never have come to be on an otherwise ugly thing naturally. On the ground was a series of dirt paths, one bridge arcing over a thin creek that had broken off from the stream and fed a wide, clear lake at the fore of the castle.

Upon that lake was a single, star-white swan. Its lengthy neck formed a graceful V with the arch of its back, the soft feathers gleaming faintly in the night. It seemed a peaceful creature as it floated near the bank, but there were occasional twitches of the head, rapid blinking of the beady black eyes, or the orange beak clicking in unvoiced distressed.

It aimed that beak toward a figure on the wet shore, whose long hair perfectly matched the dark of his boots and cloak which protected him from the damp the swan sat in. On the pale man's face, a smile twisted into existence.

“Why the long look, Princess?” Orochimaru exhaled quickly, the closest he came to a gleeful laugh without actually emitting the sound. “Surely this spell hasn't depressed you so much!”

The swan's eyes grew brighter with moisture or rage, impossible to tell which.

Beside him, the fully grown Anko knelt on the ground. Her filthy hair was pulled a high, disarrayed ponytail, and the plain dress she wore grew more and more muddied as she tossed bits and crumbed of stale bread upon the lake's surface. The poor excuse for food went stubbornly ignored by the bird. She said nothing but her expression was a genuine smile in the presence of her master.

“Now, now, Tenten. Do not think I would be so ungracious toward my former ruler. Any child of Queen Tsunade's is a highly esteemed guest of mine, here in this refuge,” said Orochimaru. He raised a long-fingered hand toward the night sky, gesturing grandly. “See how close the moon's reflection is to you? I have thoughtfully provided a reprieve from your new form! Just wait a moment...”

As he spoke, the white arc of the crescent moon's image on the water fell beneath the swan's feathered tail, and suddenly more light burst into the air, water springing from the lake to form a complete wall around the swan as high as Orochimaru himself. In a handful of second, the water fell back to the surface, and there, appearing as splendid as she had stepping King Hiashi's ballroom the day before, was Tenten.

Her chest heaved in surprise beneath the silk bodice of her dress and the fall of mahogany hair. Eyes wide, she felt at her skirt in apparent disbelief of either one of her transformations, before turning her gaze to the sorcerer on the shore. She knew who he was; her mother had not been so sheltering as to not tell her of Orochimaru, the man who had wanted to overthrow her.

“And it works just like that,” finished Orochimaru, clearly appreciating the sight of her in the moonlit water. “When the moon comes up at night, you will revert to human form.”

Tenten moved toward the bank, closer to Anko than Orochimaru. The way her dress's hem trailed on the water was not unlike the floating of a swan.

“It is required that you be on the lake,” continued Orochimaru, “for the moonlight must touch you from the water. But you're a clever girl. I'm sure you can time it so that you can remained transformed for the full evening.”

Now on a grassy section bank, Tenten ignored her soaked cloth shoes and whirled toward him, eyes alight with the fury that consumed her. “Why do you do this to me?” she demanded, voice close to trembling with feeling.

“Well, it isn't because it pleases me.” He paused, and then Orochimaru amended, “Well, actually, I concede my small bit of amusement. However, my true purpose is not torture, but takeover.” He watched as understanding entered her expression. “Yes. The kingdom of Queen Tsunade is a worthy goal, as you would agree.”

“And you would steal it from her by ransoming me,” guessed Tenten in cold tones. “Is that your plan?”

“Not at all.”

Sure she had been right, Tenten now faltered a little in her speech. “What is, then? You have the power to strip my mother of her reign, haven't you?”

“Ah, you see how the game should work,” noted Orochimaru. “How very tactical of you. But I'm afraid my power is not what it was. Paltry transformations of princesses is a novice feat. What I regained in power has taken eighteen years to come by, and for that I thank your mother.” His smile widened. “Had she not banished me to this remote region with this abandoned fortress of the Hyuuga family as sheltered, I would not boast even that today.”

Anko turned an admiring look to the sorcerer.

Tenten schooled her face into disinterest but felt new concern swamp her. “So your magic is pitiful. How do you intend—”

“As the hostile approach failed years ago,” interrupted her captor, “I have concluded that I would not enjoy fighting to retain a stolen kingdom all my life. Thus, I am resigned to a more traditional plan.” Sweeping his right arm in a semicircle, light burst in the air.

Tenten squeezed her eyes shut in the blinding illumination, and when she opened them, she was in her mother's grand hall. Tables creaked with feasts, chandeliers above dripped sparkle and flame, and the room was packed with spectators – faces she had known since childhood that made her heart heavy with longing. Was she somehow back? She turned and then noticed the heavy dress she wore was in fact a wedding gown, and she styled hair was topped by a glistening tiara. Looking toward Orochimaru, she saw him dressed to the nines himself, the crest of her family hanging from his neck, and a golden crown rested on his pallid brow. Realizing his intention, she choked down the urge to scream and forced anger to the front of her heart.

“It would be just like this,” he murmured. “We could have a legal wedding and would rule in companionship as husband and wife. We could even make a deal with the Hyuuga royal family and expand, reunite the country. King and queen of Fire!”

Sucking in a breath, Tenten raised her arms to the level of her eyes, blocking out the sights. She had noticed the distinct absence of Tsunade. “No!” she shrieked at him. The word acted as the trigger to whisk the visions away, and then it was nightfall in a strange forest again, their garments were restored to those of before, Tenten even felt her hair brush her neck again.

Orochimaru's smile was gone, his nostrils flaring to show his displeasure.

Tenten did not care. She gathered her skirt in her hands and hastened away from him, up the hill to the bridge to cross over the creek.

“Where do you propose to go?” Orochimaru called to her. “Even if you refuse me, you remain here!”

“I won't!” she shouted back, peering through the dark between the trees for a road that was not there.

“There's nothing within miles,” said the sorcerer. “Even game is so scarce that hunters do not seek it in this area.”

“Then I will walk all night!” cried Tenten in defiance. “I will not be your prisoner if I can help it.” She tried to restrain the growing panic of finding no clear way beyond the cliff wall. How had Orochimaru come to the road to kidnap her?

“Do that then. Walk all night. But you will find that with sunrise, no one will recognize you.” When the princess froze at the bridge's highest point, he grinned widely enough to show sharp teeth. “You will turn back into a swan, regardless of where you are.”

Tenten's whole body grew cold. Knees shaking, she could not even support her own weight as the extent of Orochimaru's cruelty settled over her, and she fell to the ground. Tears broke free as she pressed her cheek to the wet rail of the bridge, sobs following shortly.

Orochimaru approached, Anko at his heels, and ignored her suffering. “You will be given plenty of time to think about your position, Princess Tenten. I will returned tomorrow night.” Striding onward, he crossed to the opposite side of the creek and disappeared into his dilapidated castle for the evening.

Her crying did not subside for half and hour. Tenten was not prone to breakdowns, but there was only so much magic, ultimatums, and shock anyone could take before buckling. When she felt her muscles would not give out beneath her, she grasped the rail and pulled herself to her feet, breathing slowly.

When she turned to walk back to the lake, she saw a woman standing on the bank.

She appeared to be about Tenen's age, perhaps a little younger. She wore a plain burgundy dress, and her pink hair was cut to a length above her shoulders. Her bright green eyes looked on kindly as she offered the enchanted woman a weak smile. “So you're the princess,” she murmured softly.

Swallowing to regain a steady voice, Tenten returned, “Who are you?”

“Sakura Haruno. I used to live in your country, Princess Tenten.” She extended her hands, which were occupied with a plate of steaming bread, vegetables, and meat. “Are you hungry?”

Tenten realized for the first time that she had not eaten since before her disastrous meeting with Neji this morning. At the thought of the prince, her heart gave another, jolting lurch. She felt her eyes heat yet again, and spoke to keep from betraying her feelings. “Yes, I am.” Sakura joined her on the bridge and handed her plate, knife, and fork.

“I regret that there is nothing to drink but water from the lake,” she said.

Tenten shook her head as she bit from the bread. “I am not at all thirsty.”

There was silence between them and Tenten emptied the plate and then thanked her, hoping her nerves and unusual fear would not bring the food back up. “What are you doing in this place?”

Sakura afforded her a sad look. “Now is not the time for stories, Princess. I have prepared bedding for you over there.” She pointed to a grove that appeared relatively dry even after the immense storm. “It would be better for you to rest now.”

Tenten did not deny that her emotional state and confusion did not rob her of all energy to remain awake. “Please tell me one thing, Sakura,” she requested as the other woman rose to remove herself from the princess's presence. “Is there a way to break this spell Orochimaru has put on me?”

But Sakura only tightened her grip on the soiled plate and eating utensils. “Tomorrow,” she repeated before she too crossed the bridge, leaving Tenten alone.

Tenten went to the two thin blankets and flat pillow, lying on the hard ground and covering herself. Orochimaru had said there was no game here, so at least she did not have to worry about wild animals approaching her with appetite-driven interest. She fell asleep to the sound of wind through the reeds along the lake, knowing in the back of her mind that she would awaken changed into something she was not.

To Be Continued...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 4

Thu, 21 Feb 2008 20:16:59 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 4)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Hanabi, Orochimaru, Anko, Shikamaru, SasuSaku.
Rated: PG

No region of West Fire was spared from the summer storm's harassment. The weather had turned from balmy to chaotic, exactly like Neji's mood. The young prince did not want to be anywhere near his uncle at the moment, but neither did he want to hole himself up in his own rooms, so he descended to the servants' floor to inflict his presence upon the non-royal inhabitants of the palace.

It turned out, however, that as he paced the crowded floor of Gai's and Lee's quarters in a grounded level, that he had done little more than invite the agony of Gai's presence upon himself. While Lee played a round of chess at the suggestion of Shikamaru, his usual loss well in play, Neji endured the exaggerated abuse of the king's advisor.

“ 'What more compels you than beauty,' she asked!” His account of that day's tragic events grated on Neji's ears with horrible accuracy. “And you said – fumbled, really – 'what more is there.' What more is there?!” Gai shook his head fiercely. “I agreed with King Hiashi about sending Princess Hinata away in the hopes that she would become a refined, charming lady! Yet I think we've wronged you in the process. Even after summers upon summers with Tenten, you are clueless about the fairer sex!”

“I acknowledge,” said Neji sharply, “that I performed poorly. I see no reason for your dramatics.”

“I dramatize nothing!”

“You've lost your queen,” Shikamaru said dully. He was speaking to Lee as he removed the correct piece from their shared chess board.

“Exactly!” exclaimed Gai. “In fact, Prince Neji! Let me demonstrate how disastrous today was for us all.” Bounding over to the board between Lee and Shikamaru, he proceeded to pick up the white queen piece that Shikamaru had just discarded as well as a white knight. “Here, Lee! Play Princess Tenten's role, and I will play Prince Neji!”

Lee gleefully accepted his white queen from his father. “Ahem. 'Oh, Neji!'” he shouted in a voice pitched too high even to mimic Tenten's. “ 'Does it concern you only that I am beautiful?' ”

Gai, in a voice pitched too low to be Neji's, responded, “ 'Oh, Tenten! I can't say anything because I'm so confused!' ”

“ 'What more concerns you?' ”

“ 'What more is there?' ”

Even Lee was wincing now, and he threw down his piece. “As tightly bonded as our friendship is, Neji, even I must admit that today ended in catastrophe!”

Neji, experiencing his humiliation all over again, could only stand beside the window. He looked a perfect figure of discontent as lightning flashed and rain ran down the patterned glass in rivulets. And Gai had claimed not to dramatize. “Is this absolutely necessary?” he queried in impatience.

“In the hours that have passed,” asked Shikamaru in an unchanging, bored tone, “has a good answer to her question occurred to you yet?”

“Certainly.” Neji ignored the indecisiveness that rose within him as he attempted a response. “Tenten is...well, we were children together...” He folded his arms and tapped a finger to his bicep, thinking. “She has always been...at least to me...” Taking a breath, the prince tightened his shoulders, then looked to the three. “Wouldn't you say?” he said at last.

Gai, Lee, and Shikamaru all stared at him with expressions of equal lack of impression.

On the defensive, Neji turned away from them toward the spattered window. “I can't articulate it in the way she wants.”

“Obviously,” Lee muttered.

“But I feel something now that, just last summer, did not exist.” Neji pressed one palm to the chilled glass, remembering the smoothness of Tenten's hand, rough in places from where she had gripped a fencing foil or horse's reign. “It was like taking flight.”

“Ah,” Gai said, a smile winning the plain of his face at last. “So she lifted you into the air, did the princess? And could you have not mentioned that you were floating this afternoon?”

“I could hardly realize it at the time,” murmured Neji, his attention away from the older man. “She was beautiful, wasn't she?”

With a sigh, “Yes, Neji,” Lee agreed. “But you yourself know that your comment today was...”

“What?” His brow furrowed.

“Incredibly dumb.”

The flat statement stung a bit from the distinctively goofier man. “Do you truly think I have no intention of rectifying my mistake?”

“At this point,” Shikamaru answered cynically, “I don't see how you can.”

A bit of the damp rolled off Neji's conscience now that he had restored hope in himself. “For a beginning: why has she always come here? I am just as able to travel as Tenten. In a week, after I've prepared myself, I will go to her in East Fire.” As the plan unfolded, he really started to feel confident once again. “I will see her country as she has seen mine, and I will tell her—”

Before he could relay that his intended quote, the servant's door burst inward, allowing the rain and wind and noise of the storm to enter the already chilled room. The figure in the doorway was out of the reach of the candlelight, until another bolt of flashed from the sky and lit up the arrival.

“Shizune!” exclaimed Gai. Immediately, all men, including Neji, raced to the door. Once the personal aid of Queen Tsunade was carried inside to recline by the fire, the door firmly shut against the storm, the dark-haired woman began to speak.

“Queen Tsunade...and Princess Tenten...on the road to the dock.” Panting, she lifted a hand to wipe at her brow where rain and sweat mingled. Her shoes and the hem of her cloak, they saw, was muddied and torn. They concluded that she must have ran miles back to them. “We saw...something. A flash of green. And the horses, they panicked and my lady. My lady!” The aid shuddered, so upset and broken by the weather. The sudden warmth increased her exhaustion, and she promptly passed out with her head upon Gai's knee.

“What on earth,” began Lee.

“Tenten.” Neji was faster thinking and went to his feet with jarring alacrity. Turning, he bothered only to call out, “I'm taking your horse, Shikamaru!” before bolting out the door. He either did not hear or did not heed Gai's shout for him to wait.

Green flash.

These were the two words that repeated in his mind as he drove the steed of the captain's son through the tight, rain-whipped trees beyond the palace grounds, over cliff-sides Queen Tsunade would had to have traversed to get to the road leading to the docks. What could cause a green flash in the midst of a lightning storm? Lightning was white. Rain was...wind was... His thinking blurred as his fears increased with the length of the ride.

Nothing could settle him, not even the thought that he crossed the same distance as the queen and her daughter in half the time due to the way he commanded the horse. But when he caught sight of the queen's carriage – overturned and splintered, with several wheels pulled clean from the spokes – Neji's heart contracted painfully.

Dismounting, he hunted over the slick ground for signs of life, squinting through the curtain of needle-like water droplets, and exhaled sharply when he saw no one. “Tenten?!” As another string of lightning struck, something gleamed and caught his eye. Spying it, Neji found the golden heart on a chain, given by him to Tenten almost two decades earlier. Half covered in the water of a puddle, the pale swan sat lonely on its surface, the necklace's wearer undoubtedly disappeared.

Suddenly, he heard an odd groan. The noise brought his gaze to the left, and Neji saw Queen Tsunade, her hair thrown into tangles and her dress ripped, as she sat propped against a damp tree trunk. Clutching the necklace, he sped to her side, saying her name forcefully to bring her to consciousness.

“Neji,” Tsunade said in recognition. “The little prince...”

He swallowed before he spoke. “Queen Tsunade – what happened? Who—”

“No preparation. Once again, I did not think.” Her eyes were drooping. “It happened, as it was said, and so quickly. How did I not...” Her eyes widened now upon Neji, realizing the importance of his presence. Leaning forward, she seized him by the shirt front. “Listen to me, Neji! It seems to be, but it isn't. It seems to be...” Her strength gave out, and her hand hit the ground. “But it isn't.”

Neji now noticed the gash on the side of the queen's head. Passing a finger through the stream of blood at her temper, he tried to coax her into alertness again. “What isn't? Queen Tsunade! Where is Tenten?”

Shocking him, cold tears leaked from the monarch's eyes (so like Tenten's, he thought) to join with the rain and blood on her cheek. “Tenten...she...she is...” Trembling, she fell forward into Neji's arms. “Gone,” she whispered as the hands of darkness gripped her.

Neji's face went taught with a combination of fear and anger. “Tenten,” he said softly to the unconscious mother. Then, raising his face to the sky, so that above the wind, rain, thunder, and lightning, anyone could hear him:

“TENTEN!”

“Is beauty all?”

Breathing hard, he gathered the queen into his arms and lifted her into the saddle of Shikamaru's horse. Mounting himself, Neji gulped down the urge to continue his hunt for Tsunade's assailant and guided the animal back toward the palace. The queen required medical attention.

And he...he would have to think.

To Be Continued...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 3

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 03:39:18 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 3)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Hanabi, Orochimaru, Anko, Shikamaru, SasuSaku.
Rated: PG

The ballroom was awash in gaiety. The smell of the feast combined with the jovial music ordered by Gai (King Hiashi was generally not aware of what constituted a celebration) was enough to drunken even the sourest people present (including King Hiashi's) with delight.

Queen Tsunade had already begun uttering insistences regarding her daughter's wedding to Shizune, who nodded attentively. Lee, in his desire to congratulate the two among whom he had been raised, had taken but one step in their direction before Tenten's voice filled the hall as strongly as Neji's had:

“Wait!”

One of the horns with the orchestra hit a terrible note, Queen Tsunade literally bit her tongue, Hiashi turned so quickly it seemed his spine might snap, and Lee tripped over his own feet to the floor. Peace became pandemonium for a brief moment before all was reduced to shocked witnessing as all silenced themselves to hear the princess's words.

It was Neji, however, who spoke first. He was just noticing that Tenten's fingers were no longer warmly linked with his. “What's the matter?”

“I just...” His lips hung parted as she fought for words.

“Everything of you I see is exactly what I've ever longed for in a woman,” Neji continued. The statement was somehow unromantic, so prosaic was he.

“How?”

The question caught him somewhat off-guard, but Neji met Tenten's alert brown eyes stare for stare, as he always had. “Haven't you realized...”

Her chest rose quickly, in eager expectation.

“You're beautiful,” he said. “The most beautiful...”

Princess Tenten expelled the breath in just as much haste. Raising an arm to run her own fingers nervously through her long, dark hair – how she longed for a dagger or even a needle to busy her hands with! - she squared her shoulders. “Thank you,” she told him. “Yet...surely...there must be more to me than beauty alone that compels you.”

The eyes of the prince, so like two moons, turned suddenly unsure. It was an unusual sight to see, Neji in a position of anything less than absolute confidence. It had been one of the things that Tenten had always most resented and secretly admired of her betrothed. “I...”

“Neji.” Hiashi's voice was stern but also anxious. In such an unanticipated moment, he appeared to share his nephew's apprehension. Beside him, Tsunade's hands were balled into fists. The glares she sent Tenten's way were easily ignored.

“Does it concern you only that I am beautiful?” specified Tenten, taking one hopeful step toward him. “What more concerns you?”

Again, the king's prompting call: “What more, Neji?”

But Neji stood there, thunderstruck and unmoving. It soon was clear that he could only mentally grasp at the now plenty air between him and the princess. He at last made an attempt to respond. “What more is there?”

There was a thwack audible throughout the ballroom as the flamboyant Gai slapped a hand to his forehead. Lee's forehead made a similar sound as it hit the floor in despair.

As for Tenten, her newly-squared shoulders now slumped. Without a word, she turned and swept from he ballroom; not in visible distress but with perfect nonchalance. Her mother and Shizune soon followed.

Neji, on the other hand, could not move. Silence continued its uncomfortable reign over the room. It was a rare day indeed that any member of the house of Hyuuga faced humiliation, but today it seemed Neji had embarrassed no one but himself. As Lee pried himself from the floor, Gai called for more music but the melody served only to heighten the sense of failure rather than ease the tension.

Feet away, King Hiashi downed an entire goblet of ale.

---

Queen Tsunade's party departed from the palace that very afternoon. As the purpose of their summer visits had come to an end, however unfortunate, she upheld that they no longer had any reason to occupy West Fire.

“If there is nothing else to say,” King Hiashi replied in his customary solemn tone of voice, “we at the very least tried. We tried incredibly hard, in fact, Tsunade.” He took his fellow ruler's hand and helped her to the seat of her saddle.

“Certainly,” agreed Tsunade in the same brisk manner of veiled disappointment. “And trying, it seems, is all that can be done at times.” The exchange was a dark cloud in a day as beautiful as the one on which the queen and her daughter had first arrived in the west.

Beside his uncle, Neji watched Tenten mount her white horse with a whisper of her beautiful skirts and a pat to the mare's neck. Irritation had seized him during the last few hours, and seeing her tie the strings of her riding cloak at her throat only caused the negative feeling in him to swell. She did not glance in his direction.

Tsunade noticed this as well and made of point of ordering, “Say farewell to our hosts, Tenten.”

She flipped her hair, a waving flag of indignant womanly victory. It was one of the tricks she had picked up from her mother. “Farewell,” she called to the pale-eyed royals on the road.

Shizune frowned, and Tsunade arched an eyebrow.

“Farewell, Prince Neji,” she revised more softly. Her knuckles were white on her horse's reigns.

It took a moment, but when Neji did not voluntarily deign to reciprocate, King Hiashi almost threateningly touched his shoulder. Neji met his uncle's gaze, retaliation in mind, but he backed down beneath the fury there. He looked once more to Tenten. “Farewell, Princess.” None could be sure, not even Neji, but there might have been a note of regret in the words.

With a last nod, Tsunade steered her mount to take the lead, followed by Shizune. Tenten's head at last budged from its stubborn forward position, but just as stubbornly, Neji looked sideways, only watching her exit through the gate when he heard her horse's hooves progress on the road.

When all three woman were gone, Hiashi reacted uncharacteristically by tossing his hands into the air. “So many years,” he announced in clear temper. “So many years of planning, of coming to agreements, and now – wasted by a fool nephew!”

Neji waited until the offended monarch disappeared into the castle before turning, only to see his cousin Hinata watching from a distance. A lock of her arrow-straight hair, black as night, was clenched in her nervously shifting right hand. She had grown from a timid girl to a timid woman. Neji spared no time for her but marched right past into the palace himself.

---

“You've broken my heart, you know.” Tsunade's arms were crossed as they bumped along in the carriage taking them to the ship at the docks. Night had come early, and wind and rain lashed at the drawn shades to either side of them.

Accustomed to her mother's taste for the over-dramatic, Tenten did not react but continued to calmly tie her hair up into the twin buns she still favored as an adult. One of the scarlet ribbons caught on her little finger, and she paused, realizing she would have to start over.

“I cannot even understand what you did today,” Tsunade lied, her ruined hopes getting the better of her. “What was it you wished for Neji to say? He is a man, my child. He will not know your mind in the way I do.”

Tenten now took a deep breath and made to answer the queen. “I see that I've disappointed you, Mother. But I could not promise myself to him. Not then.”

“Why?”

“He doesn't love me,” said Tenten passionately. “Or at least I can't be sure that he does.”

“He said you were the most beautiful woman he had ever even thought of,” Tsunade reminded her. “As far as men go, that is often as close to true confessions of love that you may ever receive. Why, even your father...”

“I want more than that, Mother! Not just my appearance, but me, myself, must be the reason Neji wants to marry me.”

Tsunade then remembered the words she had said to Hiashi nearly two decades ago, and a little sigh escaped her crimson lips. “I see. Well...” Reaching for the princess's hand, she interlaced her ringed fingers with Tenten's undecorated ones. “Perhaps he will learn some sense and try again in a proper way. Until then,” she advised, “be just as you are – strong and brave.” A sparkle of her usual mischief entered her brown eyes. “And then feel free to send Neji vindictive letters. Sometimes we must fight for our happiness.”

A smile broke out on Tenten's young face, and she leaned forward to embrace her mother. Just as they were pulling away, ready to begin less serious topics, Shizune's voice reached them as they hit a particularly vicious jolt. “Your Highness!” The carriage slowed, then stopped, nervous whinnies from the horses reaching their ears over the wind.

Tsunade looked past the cover on her window. Tenten saw the rosiness promptly vanish from her mother's cheeks even as Tsunade's jaw set. Purposefully, Tsunade opened the door and stepped down from the carriage. Tenten started to follow, but a firm shake of the head from the queen, and the girl remained obediently confined.

Tsunade's voice was heard over the weather's din (“You!”) before a strong thunderclap rattled the carriage. Tenten gripped the seat, but the lantern fell from the ceiling to the carpet. Glass shattered, and the light was extinguished. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart.

There was audible conversation, but it was too low for Tenten to make out what was said, or with whom her mother was speaking. That the person was a man was all Tenten could figure. And there seemed little hope of the rain letting up.

A strange sound different from the storm caught all of her attention, and then a bright green glow illuminated the carriage through the smallest of cracks. Too nervous and worried now, Tenten flung open the door. “Mother! Shizune!”

There wasn't time to register the status of her loved ones or even anything she could see. There was only a deafening hiss...and then...

Her hair ribbons were clutched by the wind and torn from her tresses, lost to the night.

Neji.

To Be Continued...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 2

Wed, 13 Feb 2008 16:06:18 GMT

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 2)
Author: NessieGG
Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Hanabi, Orochimaru, Anko, a Shikamaru cameo.
Rated: PG

It was a warm, bright day in West Fire when the country received its first visit from Princess Tenten with her mother. The country had miles of farmland, and West often traded food for construction goods from East. Riding in front of Tsunade on the queen's horse, the wide-eyed girl saw dozens of pairs of men bartering, while women young and old in plain dresses carried water from wells to thirsty men in the fields. It was planting season, and Tenten had never seen such wide spaces.

Even the village leading to the palace was about a third of the size of East Fire's capitol. Villagers reciprocating her interest watched the royal procession from both sides of the street. Putting on a charming smile, Tenten waved as she had been taught.

In the last few yards before they reached the wrought iron gate of Hyuuga castle, Tsunade began fussing, smoothing the skirt of Tenten's pale pink summer dress and finger-combing her soft brown hair. She sat through it, energetically petting the mane of the mare they rode, as though to pass on her torture. Tsunade snapped at her to keep her hands back or they would get dirty.

Tenten didn't understand what about this visit was so important to her mother. Or perhaps she was just cross from traveling. They had rode from the palace to the river that separate East and West Fire, crossing by ship, then had rode from the docks to the palace of King Hiashi. If anything, Tenten thought her mother should be elated at finally arriving.

The twin doors opened inward, and in rode the two royals, followed by Shizune on a brown horse. The medic/bodyguard/advisor was the only entourage whose accompaniment Tsunade had allowed. As the horse came to a halt, Tenten felt a pat to her back; a gentle reminder to be on her best behavior.

On the front grounds of the many-turreted, stone palace waited the whole of the Hyuuga royal family. There were a great many of them, she saw, and would learn that only the four nearest the gate lived in the main castle while the rest lived in various placed around the country.

King Hiashi stood with Hinata close to his left side, a young girl who held a few-months-old baby in her small arms. To Hiashi's right was Neji, black hair straight and hanging to the middle of his back, looking like a younger version of King Hiashi. He, like Tenten, wore no crown or other symbol representing their privileged status, yet even now he carried an air of solemn regality about him.

Hiashi did not smile, but his face relaxed somewhat at the sight of Tsunade and her traveling companion. “You are welcome here, Queen Tsunade. I had heard your daughter had grown, but I did not predict how much.”

“I must say the same for your adopted son there,” said Tsunade in turn, still atop the horse. “As well as Hinata. She will prove a good friend to my girl, I am certain.”

“Actually, she leaves tomorrow morning for finishing school,” Hiashi informed. “She may not be my heir, but as my daughter she deserves proper upbringing.”

Tsunade did not bother furthering the topic, and little Tenten knew why. She was told before leaving their palace that King Hiashi's wife had passed away the previous year in the birthing of his second child, the baby girl Hinata now pressed close to her chest. The two girls and Neji were the closest family the king had.

Tsunade now dismounted and gently pulled Tenten from the saddle after her. Shizune followed suit, and the whole of the Hyuga family bowed and curtsied to their visitors. Tenten, though not usually timid, felt a blush rise to her cheeks.

The taut line of Hiashi's mouth did curve now, almost imperceptible in the glaring sun and at such great height. “You are also welcome, of course, Princess Tenten.”

Brown hair catching unmanageably in the wind, Tenten only waited, feeling the weight of Tsunade's hand on her shoulder. She saw Hiashi exchange a meaningful glance with Neji, who without a word strode forward toward her. On guard at first, training in manners eventually took hold of her, and Tenten relaxed.

“Go on,” murmured her mother, providing an unhelpful little push that scooted her a few steps in Neji's direction.

“Hello,” said Neji softly, white eyes cast to the dirt road beneath his feet.

Prompted his uncle, “Hello what, Neji?”

“Hello, Princess Tenten,” continued the ten-year-old boy, with a ten-year-old's reluctance. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

She knew when she was not found truly pleasing and had to force charm into her voice as she gave a wobbly curtsy. “It's a pleasure to be here...Prince Neji.” The boy looked ready to bolt.

“Well?” came Hiashi commanding inquiry, and Tenten could practically feel the expectancy radiating for Tsunade's desire for a good first impression.

Restraining a sigh, Tenten extended her small, chubby hand. The older boy took it with even greater hesitance, and she tensed as he leaned over. When he kissed her hand, it was only a peck of lips and on the very ends of her fingers.

Not liking it either, Tenten quickly rubbed her hand on her dress. Neji pressed his lips together. But their parents looked pleased enough.

She, on the other hand, could only think of the beautiful day and of how many more she would have to waste in the presence of this pale, pallid-eyed, high-and-mighty, quiet, begrudging boy.

Not fun, Tenten decided, and stuck to her decision.

---

This would be only the first of many summers that went precisely this way: Princess Tenten would arrive with Queen Tsunade at the home of Prince Neji and King Hiashi. Hinata would leave for finishing school practically at the same moment, depriving Tenten of any chance for equal female companionship. She had no choice but to spend time with Neji or be left alone, as her mother was always with Hiashi, making plans of some sort.

Neji, on the other hand, could always escape somewhere with Lee, the son of Hiashi's leading advisor, Gai. The two boys kept to themselves, away from Tenten.

When Tenten was eleven, she hit her awkward stage, which coincided with a stage of chronic tomboyishness. It was that summer she began wearing tunics instead of skirts. She put her hair up in two buns atop her head to lessen instant noticeability that she was a girl. And she made friends with Lee by demonstrating her self-defense ability in sparring matches, which the boy frequently lost because he refused to use his full strength on her.

To make up for his best friend's shortcomings, Neji took his betrothed on himself. Their parents watched from the garden, drinking tea.

“Has she always fought like that?” asked Hiashi in surprise.

“We believe in teaching girls to defend themselves in East Fire, my lord,” Tsunade replied, sipping.

“I suppose... They will get along, won't they?”

“Oh, you don't think they already do?”

However, the sparring soon turned to grappling. To force a bond of some kind, both rulers sent their children to bed without supper once the match resulted in Tenten's bleeding nose and a black eye for Neji.

Summers came and went, and although it often seemed a renewal of war between the separate Fire nations was likelier than a reunion, there were moments when Neji and Tenten suffered each other in silence at meals or during quiet evenings indoors when it was stormy outside. This gave their parents hope, but when they tried to amuse their children – such as showing them a prospective map of the land of Fire once East and West were joined – tempers flared once more and they began their resentment anew.

Meanwhile, rumor circulated far and wide on both sides of the river border. Neji and Tenten would be married after the girl turned sixteen, some said. Other declared it would be twenty. The more cynical maintained they would never marry, because they hated each other so much. These people were not actually cynics at all, but friends or relatives of servants in the two castles who witnessed the prince's and princess's delight in the autumn and winter months when they did not have to live in the same kingdom, and who passed on what information they knew.

Change came over them both with adolescence. Neji grew to pay more attention to Tenten, though it was mostly in the negative ways. He found ways to vent his frustrations on her, such as seeing that something she ordered from the kitchens was prepared incorrectly or that he soundly defeated her in any matters of sport from swimming to fencing. But certain things she did (mundane things, such as wearing her hair in two long braids instead of buns and trading in her earth-toned tunic for vibrant gowns) arrested his attention and did not free it.

“I have a hunch,” said Lee to him one day, in a summer when the other boy had grown ungainly tall and altogether mischievous. “I believe you like the fair Tenten!”

They were watching Tenten speak with a captain's son, Shikamaru, who was not easily distracted by the opposite sex but now seemed as willing to flirt with her and Tenten ostensibly was with him.

“I believe,” Neji retorted in razor tones, “that you are a complete fool.”

“But my father claims there is nothing wrong with such a thing, Neji!”

“Your father advises for my uncle – whom, as we know, is also a fool.” Besides, thought Neji, Tenten's nose was still dusted with freckles, which he did not find attractive, and she was still fairly short. Not to mention the lack of female development. The list went on and on, but faults came to mind less easily now.

---

Adolescence passed them by with about as much minimal damage as can be done by a hurricane. They listened to Tsunade's and Hiashi's reasoning for the marriage now, but they spoke out against it not only forcefully but intelligently. It came down to cunning by both Tsunde and Shizune to even get Tenten onto the boat to West Fire. Hiashi had to threaten Neji with banishment from the training grounds for weeks at a time unless he approached Tenten with honest civility instead of the icy, false respect he pierced her with each year. The “day of rebellion” he had predicted had manifested into a number of years.

After a particularly long winter, when Tenten was eighteen and Neji twenty-one – behind schedule, as the king and queen saw it – the two took great evasive maneuvers to avoid that summer's meeting. Neji could only think of how well he might have done without his betrothal; he had never had the freedom to hunt with the wild of his uncle's kingdom, or even that of Queen Tsunade, lest some tragedy befall him and he did not make it to his wedding day. Tenten, in contrast, had never walked the streets of East Fire's own capitol without at least Shizune at her side. She had no idea what true privacy was.

But Tenten was half-carried, half-dragged to West Fire by her mother's impressive strength, developed over years of similar courses of action. Age did not easily slow down Queen Tsunade. Shizune assisted, dressing Tenten by force in the palace rooms given to them each year.

Neji, for his part, put up a good fight but was no match for both Hiashi's discipline and Gai's exuberant, iron grip. One way or another, his dark locks of hair were combed, trimmed, his boots shined and his royal cape was tied in place before he was ushered to the south door of the Hyuuga castle's ballroom while Tenten was shoved to the north.

“Must you push?” Neji demanded at an irritating loss, his words falling on deaf ears.

Tenten did not hesitate to remind her mother that, “His hands have left me bruises!” Her mother apparently did not care in the least.

Both were half-tossed into the ballroom simultaneously. In equal stubbornness, they faced opposite walls. Neji folded his arms. Tenten, arms akimbo, drummed her fingernails on her hips.

After what felt like an age, intrigue got the better of them. Tenten shifted first, and the rustling of her skirts alerted Neji to her movements. Both turned, and Neji saw her moments before her gaze settled on him.

The first thing he noticed was that she once again wore the golden heart necklace given to her as an infant (he knew that its absence from her throat each summer had resulted in severe scoldings from her mother or Shizune). It highlighted the smooth length of her neck, which gave way to lean shoulders below and a perfect oval face above. The freckles were gone, noted Neji. He saw the clear cocoa of her eyes, the perfectly-matched hair now freed and hanging in thicks waves even longer than his own hair. The gown Tenten wore was mostly white, with red trim at the shoulders, hem, and neckline. It clung to a body he remembered as boyish but now loudly declared her female.

He wondered, unable to stop staring, what transformation had overtaken her when the snow had covered their kingdoms?

Tenten, for her part, performed admirably as her heart began to attempt an escape from her chest the moment Neji unconsciously smiled at the sight of her. Smiling nervously herself, she mentally admitted instant like of the way the Hyuuga prince looked. The flowing, white shirt set off his hair, his golden-lined, dark cape adding a form of true nobility he had lacked in previous years. She was surprised that he knees did not begin shaking when she stepped toward him in response to his striding forward.

Neji did not say anything, which relieved her as she wasn't certain she could manage the feat at present. He merely bowed. As well-trained as she was, Tenten's elegant dip of a curtsy came from wanting to make her own good impression today.

His eyes latched onto the gleaming gold necklace, which he recalled from boyhood. He did not remember, however, the pale engraving of a swan on the surface. It was lovely on her.

“It's a pleasure to be here,” Tenten murmured at last, he voice loud only because of the grand ballroom's emptiness. She did not realize she echoed the words of their first meeting.

Yearning for a better look, Neji went to her. He straightened her from the curtsy with a hand upon hers, and this time the kiss he pressed to her knuckles was unreserved and flattering. Looking up, he met her surprisingly pleased face.

The two did not even notice when King Hiashi and Queen Tsunade, having spied from a crack in their respective doors, burst in and led a charge of maids with platters and flowers, musicians, and torch-carrying servant boys who dimmed the lights.

When soft music began, Neji pulled Tenten to him by the hand he still held, and their dance began. Isolated, they were watched by hopeful parents and enthralled guests as they spun in gentle circles in the center of the ballroom.

Tenten's hands grew warm in his, and her nerves soon melted away under the quiet intensity of his silver stare. She found within moments that she would have liked to stay here, gracefully dancing in his arms, commanding his full attention.

But the dance soon stopped because the charm of the moment weaved its intended spell, and Neji's and Tenten's lips met in front of dozens of courtiers from both their kingdoms. Tenten's hand clung to his shoulder while Neji's found its way to her hair.

Pulling away, Neji was the first to break from the ensuing daze. Gripping her hand, he turned to where King Hiashi stood with Queen Tsunade. “I will marry the princess!” he announced to the room. At once, applause and cheers sprang from the witnesses.

The noise woke Tenten from her trance, and she turned to Neji in shock of his declaration.

The revelers went on without noticing, even when the she withdrew her hand from the prince's.

To Be Continued...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "An Everlasting Vow" - Chapter 1

Tue, 12 Feb 2008 20:25:52 GMT

After much contemplating, I've decided to take a break from serious fics and bring you all some CRACK NejiTen. And not just any CRACK NejiTen. This fic is based on the animated feature The Swan Princess, which, in turn, is based on Tchaikovsky's ballet Swan Lake.

So this is nothing serious. It may be out of character, it may even be absurd, but this is just for fun, and I'll do my best to keep it all as believable as possible (if at all). Hopefully the writing won't weaken due to the craziness. This is about as AU as it gets. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, The Swan Princess, or Swan Lake. I am making no profit from this fan fiction.

Title: An Everlasting Vow (Chapter 1)
Author: NessieGG
bGenre: Romance/Fantasy/AU
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing/Characters: NejiTen, Tsunade, Hiashi, Shizune, Lee, Gai, Hinata, Hanabi, Orochimaru, Anko. (So far!)
Rated: PG

Once upon a time, a beautiful queen gave birth to a daughter on the very day her husband perished from illness. Golden hair damp with sweat, the queen's sorrow at the loss of the king warred with her joy at the birth of her child. She was a responsible woman and had aided well in King Jiraiya's mighty land, and so held herself up admirably. With a baby in the cradle, she assumed the throne with vigorous command.

The country of East Fire entered into its golden age under the rule of Queen Tsunade. The people were not concerned with its change in leadership, for now there was an heir to their kingdom. Rejoicing filled the land from border to border, spilling over into the neighboring country of West Fire.

Years ago, the two nations had existed as one kingdom, but battle had rendered it into halves. Over the passing decades, old grudges dissipated to give way to separate but benevolent rules; one by the family of Jiraiya's ancestors in the East, and the other by the Hyuuga family in the West, headed now by the oldest of the former king's twin sons, Hiashi.

Hiashi was a mostly serious man, but he had lived as a friend of Jiraiya and came to celebrate the birth of the late king's daughter upon Queen Tsunade's invitation. At the grand party, Hiashi introduced his children. His infant daughter, days younger than the new princess, was Hinata. Neji, the four-year-old boy, was not actually King Hiashi's son but his nephew and the child of his deceased twin brother. Neji, Hiashi explained to Tsunade, was older than his daughter by a year, and would be the one to inherit the kingdom of West Fire.

Standing together, the royal pair watched as Neji approached the silk-draped cradle which held Tsunade's child. His dark hair felt long upon the shoulder of his white traveler's cloak. As he peered into the cradle at the lovely baby within, his moon-like eyes were visibly curious. The gift of the Hyuuga royal family, a golden necklace hung with a golden heart, was in his hand. Young Neji dangled the necklace over the girl, his mouth tipping upward when tiny hands reached for the shiny distraction, before dropping it among her downy blankets for her to play with.

“What is her name?” Hiashi asked the question softly of the mother, who smiled using deep red lips.

“I have named her Tenten.” Placing a hand over her belly, flat once more, Tsunade seemed to recall the occupation there. “It means 'heaven'.”

The Hyuuga leader nodded appreciatively, though he kept his gaze trained his nephew. The queen knew of his protective urges toward the boy. The loss of his brother had affected Hiashi more than most people understood. “She certainly was a blessing.”

“Yes. There was a time when Jiraiya and I thought there would be none after us. We came close to messaging you about accepting this...” Queen Tsunade trailed, her voice lost to the amiable chatter and happy music that swelled in the festive court of her palace. “Kingdom,” she finished after several moments, gaining Hiashi's full attention at last. “Your nephew, Neji. Is he a good child?”

“He will find a rebellious day, I have no doubt,” replied Hiashi, one of his jet black eyebrows lifting. “But yes, he is a fine boy. Why do you ask?”

“Well, as you can see, Tenten is a very fine girl herself.” Unplanned brilliance lit the queen's gaze, though it looked like mischief in the dark brown orbs gleamed brighter than the jeweled diadem on her blond head. “I have a very good idea, King Hiashi.”

Hiashi paused. As long as he had known her, he thought Tsunade a competent leader but given to the occasional impulsive action as well. “And what is that?” he humored, keeping his wariness concealed.

“As you will agree, there has been no reason for years that East and West Fire should not be rejoined.”

With that, he did agree. “Yes.”

“Well, you are married, and while I am not too old for marriage, I'm afraid I am too dedicated to Jiraiya's memory to wed again.”

“I assure you, I only admire that,” said Hiashi politely, still waiting for what was sure to be a dynamic point.

“That being the case,” continued Tsunade, “I cannot imagine a better future than the joining of our two heirs to recombine us as the single land of Fire at last!”

Dynamic indeed, Hiashi thought, as the first vestiges of a smile began to reveal themselves. “Betroth them, you mean.” He turned his stark white gaze to the image of his young ward standing over the newborn princess. “Queen Tsunade, you do have a very good idea.”

“I know!” Tsunade crowed gleefully, brown eyes positively glittering now. “Now, we cannot simply thrust them together when they are of age. I will not toss my daughter to a prince due to convenience. I want her to know love, as I have.”

“Of course.” Romance, however, was not a strong point of the king. “What do you suggest?”

That was exactly the question she had been waiting for. “When she is older, I will bring her to your palace. They will spend every summer together. Playmates first. Then friends, you see. And once the natural way of emotions commence...”

He had to admit, the plan was ingenious. “I can find nothing wrong with the idea,” he said.

“Good. Then you will take care of Neji, and in – oh, let's say six years – you will see Tenten again at your gate.” Ecstatic, Tsunade clapped her hands, then rubbed the palms together, rings glimmering. “It will be something to see, Hiashi.”

Looking up from the cradle, Neji watched his uncle clasp hands with Queen Tsunade to seal a bargain he was entirely unaware of.

Elsewhere in the room, a pale-faced witness threw one disdainful look at the child and baby before turning on his heels and stalking out, black hair swaying with the motion. He held no concern for either of them, but in a rarely-seen lair a mile below the palace, he ran his bony, ice-cold fingers over jars and bottles filled with strange liquids.

“Tomorrow, Anko,” he said to a young woman in the corner.

Her dark violet hair was the color of smoke in the light of a green fire waving in the lair's hearth. “Yes, my lord.” She ran her hands over the dirty skirt of her dress, cleaning them of nervous perspiration.

“Queen Tsunade will die much more swiftly than her husband, and then I...” Through snakelike nostrils, the sorcerer inhaled sharply, and the air he exhaled was nearly palpable with ill intent. “I will be rid of all obstacles.”

Before the subservient Anko could utter either encouragement or dissuasion, the neglectfully unbolted door was broken down, and on the other side of it stood Queen Tsunade herself, impeccably dressed in a satin gown from the party. She appeared even more commanding than usual with eight armored guards ready behind her and her sharp-minded advisor at her side.

“It seems Shizune was correct in her suspicions,” said Tsunade, her voice ringing powerfully throughout the small space. “You plot against me in the dark while I carouse in the lighted world up there.”

The sorcerer's eyes flicked from East Fire's queen to the aid, watching him just as steadily. “You surely are misinformed, my Queen.” The woman, Shizune, had been unnervingly

“I dare say I'm not. I should have listened to her sooner, Orochimaru.” The queen's jeweled fingers curled into fists. “Shizune is steadfastly loyal, something that cannot be said for you. My husband trusted you and your tonics, and had he only accepted the cures of alternate physicians – masters of the normal arts, not the mystic ones – he would have lived to see our daughter's smile.” Tsunade paused. “No, in fact, it is my fault he lies dead. But the same fate will not befall me. Not yet.”

Orochimaru's grin came slowly, curling his sickly-looking flesh so that ridges spread in his cheeks. “What will you do to me, Tsunade? Kill me? Kill my girl here?”

Tsunade's eyes shifted to Anko, filthy, underfed. She was young, no more than fifteen, and somewhere in the royal's heart, pity opened wide for the girl. “Not her, anyway,” she answered.

“No!” cried out Anko, presenting her voice for the first time since the disruption of her master's plans. She rushed across the room to fall to her knees at Orochimaru's feet, clutching at the hem of his dark robe. She loosed silent tears. Above her, Orochimaru stood apathetically smiling.

“She will not leave me, as you can see,” said Tsunade's betrayer.

Tsunade's eyes narrowed. “I do not spill innocent blood. But the wicked do not go without punishment. Bind them both,” she ordered, and the guards flooded the lair to do as she told them. In moments both Orochimaru and Anko were manacled. “Take them to the border of West Fire and banish them into the following land. King Hiashi will not interfere. I wonder how you'll fare in that place, Orochimaru.”

She turned her back, and Orochimaru's smile had fallen away from his angular face. No doubt he was picturing the untamed, unoccupied forest only ever entered by hunters for game. He had never endured such lack of civilization. “Do not think we are done, Tsunade!”

“See that not a grain, ounce, or page of his materials goes with him,” was Tsunade's only response. As she and Shizune left the lair, she heard the crash of containers, liquids splashing, books crackling as they burned, and then a long, strangled moan by Orochimaru and his power seeped from his mind and body. Both women could feel it dissolve in the air around them like ash scattered by wind.

“Was it wise, my lady,” asked Shizune with utmost respect, “to be so kind?”

“He is no threat to us now,” Tsunade assured her as they entered the bright lights of her hall. The guests were mostly gone now, including King Hiashi and Prince Neji, and now servants had begun to tidy up. Stepping over to a seated maid, Tsunade took her daughter from a caring maid's arms. “We have more important things to concern ourselves with, haven't we?”

“Such as?”

Love gorging her heart, Queen Tsunade riffled her thumb through the sprout of dark hair that had already grown on the baby's head. Brown eyes the color of her own stared up at her. “There is only six years until young Neji and my Tenten meet.”

To Be Continued...

[Naruto, NejiTen] "Distinction Between Hugs"

Sat, 09 Feb 2008 20:47:32 GMT

I actually wrote something that takes place when they're kids! XD XD

Title: Distinction Between Hugs
Featuring: NejiTen, Lee, Tsunade.
Setting: Post-part 2, during the time lapse.
Words: 955

Tenten stood in the east wing of Konoha's intensive care ward, where bright tile, low ceiling, and wid walls kept her prisoner. She had entered the antiseptic-scented cage of her own volition, glad to be permitted to remain inside, unlike others locked out with the nurses' warning glares the only response to their worry-drawn faces.

The staff knew, however, that no matter who was the patient, a ninja's teammates had as much right to access as family. They did not dare turn out the young pair of Team Gai, just as they had not dissuaded Hyuuga Hiashi's momentary presence, as Tenten had seen over an hour ago.

Rigidly upright beside her, Lee was a black-topped green splash buoyed amid all the white. From the ajar surgery room door they flanked came low sounds of monitoring equipment and the steady pulse of chakra.

Aside from that, the ward was silent. Empty. Clean and cold.

Lee maintained several times between intervals of a few minutes that he could not take this waiting. The female kunoichi of Team Gai, in contrast, leaned on the wall. She was speechless in her concern. The first morning in months that she had not attended her usual training session with Neji, and the Hyuuga had presumably overdone it, resulting in grave injury to himself.

Neji...what did you do?

He had been meditating for longer periods of time lately, memorizing his own chakra channels in greater detail and designing a modification of the Kaiten to strengthen the technique in preparation for the Jounin trials. In training with her, Neji had kept the release of power to a minimum as was appropriate for mere sparring. He had always walked away with the usual wear on those days. Tenten guessed that, in her absence, he had seized the opportunity to go a step further, to test himself as he so often felt he must.

Neji Hyuuga had scored serious bodily damage, a race to the hospital, and a major operation performed by the Hokage herself. Bad marks all around.

Chastising herself, Tenten bunched both hands into fists, then ran both rows of whitened knuckles over the sides of her head, mussing her brunette buns. And what had she done that morning? Caught up on some sleep lost on their last mission. Sleep!

Lee jerked his head to face her, heavy-eyebrowed gaze latching onto her semi-dazed expression. Instead of a repeated declaration of his impatience, he turned to her fully. “Do you want a hug, Tenten? Hugging makes me feel better.”

More for him than for herself – because, really, her building guilt deprived her of any desire to be touched – Tenten raised her arms to him and pressed her cheek to Lee's spandex-clad shoulder.

Moments like these were hard on the heart of a fourteen-year-old girl.

The pulse of chakra ebbed, then faded altogether. A minute later, Tsunade was stepping through the door. The unhurt members of Team Gai held their breath, dying for information. Tsunade watched them a moment, right before her red lips quirked into an assuring smile. “He's fine,” she reported even as aids came rushing from the room, arms laden with bloodied clothes.

Tenten's heart rose even as her stomach plummeted, the altitude thrown into chaos by what she heard and saw. Still timid in the presence of her idol, her voice came softly.

“Can we...?”

“Go see him?” Tsunade understood perfectly, saying, “Yes, I think that would be fine. He's groggy, so you—” She couldn't finish, however, due to the wind of first Tenten, then Lee, bursting into the room cutting off her words.

There were windows behind the sterile bed, and in them a sunset glowed. It was the kind Nara Shikamaru would find memorable, light-soaked clouds hanging around the sun, holding pink hearts in their centers.

But Tenten didn't stare at the sunset.

Neji was propped against the brass bars serving as his hospital bed's headboard, something he would prefer over pillows. His charcoal hair, sweat-damped and untied, splayed over his shoulders. The recognizable Hyuuga eyes drooped, gleaming silver. The fresh, blue shirt he wore covered a slew of bandages that was a garment all on its own, hiding a long, oblique line of stitches.

What Tenten first thought was she stepped closer to him was that she had never experienced such breathtaking relief. What she said was, “See, Lee? He's okay.”

“NEJI!” Already Lee's eyes had grown moist. “I am so thrilled you have retained your youthful life!” His face took on the most martyr-like expression. “I am glad, too, that Gai-sensei is out on a mission so he did not need to endure the same fear which Tenten and I have!”

Throughout his declaration, Neji only blinked at the other boy, blearier than either of his teammates had ever seen him. On his opposite side, Tenten shook her head at the blatant show of melodrama. When Lee raised his arm to scrub at his now energetically-flooding eyes, she leaned over to wind her arms about Neji's neck. She had to partially climb onto the bed, and she was careful to avoid his injured chest and stomach, pressing mostly into his right arm before moving away. The hug was quicker than the one she'd shared with Lee, but somehow this embrace lasted even once she was no longer touching him.

Neji's eyes shifted to hers, and Tenten's cheeks suspiciously heated. “You're right,” he said, his voice strained from his physical hardship. “I'm okay.”

Lee lowered his arm. His smile was back full-force.

On the edge of the mattress, Tenten's hand rested close to Neji's.

The sun sunk to night, symbolizing another day survived.

The End

[Past Times] [Naruto: Asuma/Kurenai AU] "An Agreeable Arrangement"

Sun, 03 Feb 2008 18:59:45 GMT

Title: An Agreeable Arrangement
Author:
wordynessie

Theme: Sheriff
Pairing: Sarutobi Asuma/Yuuhi Kurenai
Rating: Teen
Genre: Romance/humor(?)

The mayor's office building had exploded into chaos, and Asuma Sarutobi hardly knew why. It wasn't as though a mere case of vandalism was something to write home about. Overzealous political party advocates were everywhere. Since it was the mayor of New York City's venue, however, and because Asuma was the city's chief of police, he had an obligation to be there.

It was the fact that the mayor also happened to be his father Asuma resented. But that was as out of his hands as the current state of the disturbance site. Digital lenses were snapping every square inch of the lobby, and shouting was set to maximum volume.

The mod of photojournalists made sure, of course, that they took a decent shot of the giant, vicious-faced donkey that had been spray-painted in bright green over and around the various artworks that hung on the east wall of the lobby.

Asuma had three teams operating in the packed lobby; one to hold back the straining reporters, led by dog-training cop Kiba Inuzuka, one to questioned the on-duty staff, and one to analyze the vandalized wall. He cast a half-hearted look around for Jon Steward, very sure this bizarre case would end up on The Daily Show before it hit NYPD records.

As he did, he spotted a woman ducking beneath the yellow police tape. Well-honed skills had him both assessing and reacting in rapid succession. The assessment confirmed that the woman was notably attractive, with long black hair, a flattering crimson business skirt and blazer, which accentuated a shapely body, and a surprising pair of garnet eyes. The reaction involve heading her off at breakneck speed.

“You are?” he asked.

“Not interested,” she snapped out without looking at him.

Faintly amused, Asuma held out an arm to cut off her path toward the elevators. “Miss, I think you misinterpreted my question.”

She registered his uniform, then, and her eyes went wide. In an attempt to take a step back from him (many people seemed to be under the impression that standing too close to a cop was a legal offense), one of her absurdly high heels skidded on the tile and sent her pitching forward. The stack of files she carried under her arm scattered, and print-offs flew in all directions. Kiba's dog, Akamaru, began to bark madly.

Perfect. Asuma desperately wished for a cigarette.

“Oh, God...sorry. Shit.” The woman went on all fours and began to gather her paraphernalia.

Heedless of the reporters, Asuma knelt in order to help. “Didn't mean to scare you,” he said honestly. “But we can't have you crossing this line.”

“I work here!” she flared at once.

God, Asuma thought, not this act. “For who?”

“Mayor Sarutobi!”

Wrong line. “Lady, I've got personal connections with this office, and I know you don't work for the mayor.”

“But I—”

He cut her off by thrusting the retrieved files – those not trampled by officers at work, anyway – into her arms. “Save yourself the trouble, won't you?” Taking her by the arm with gentleness but firmly enough to show he meant business, Asuma led her back toward the throng. “Tell the Times I said hello.”

“Asuma!”

Asuma's patient thinned considerably, a feat not easily achieved by anyone other than this addressor. He tossed a bland look at the old man standing behind him. “What?”

Mayor Sarutobi, dressed in a starched black suit and tie, stared balefully back. “I'll thank you not to mistreat my secretary on her first day. I'm sorry, Miss Yuuhi. My son can be quite rash.”

“Your son?” the woman called Yuuhi echoes.

“Your secretary?” faltered Asuma uncharacteristically.

Cameras flashed and journalists yelled out questions. The mayor was disapproving, his secretary look shocked, and Asuma appeared more or less humiliated.

---

This very picture (with the donkey conveniently visible in the background) was printed in The New Yorker the following morning. Sitting at a tiny café she was partial to, Kurenai had one scarlet fingernail positioned to keep her reading place while she examined the article and sipped coffee at the same time. She was dressed as confidently as yesterday, but the attire did not match her mood. Already she had become the unlucky recipient of several sidelong glances ranging between amused and disgusted from other breakfast-goers.

As she was approaching the third column of the article, Kurenai felt a presence too near her and looked up as a somewhat gruff voice quoted, “ 'Mayor and son share friction over secretary?' ” He even afforded the upward inflection that denoted inquiry.

Kurenai saw a faintly smiling Asuma Sarutobi standing beside her coffee and did not react in any way. The plan white coffee cup he held was devoured by his large hand. “It seems I've been disgraced,” he said.

Kurenai's physical response was caught somewhere between a tensing of her shoulders and a relaxing of her jaw. “You can't count on the media to report anything accurately. A story like this,” she waved a hand in dismissal, “isn't the kind to be taken seriously.”

“It's a good trick for front page news. Word it as a question, and suddenly there's no liability.” Asuma shrugged. “But that's not what I'm here for. I came to apologize for yesterday, Miss Yuuhi.”

The words sounded rehearsed, Kurenai noted. This was doubtlessly a man unused to contrition. “It's all right, Chief Sarutobi. I think I came out of this comparatively unscathed.” She paused for effect. “Unless, of course, this bad press gets me a pink slip.”

“It won't,” he hurried to assure her. “Tactless as they are, the story focuses on the vandalism, not us.”

He really did look sorry, Kurenai thought, in a sort of high-school awkward way. “Did you come here just to see me? You must be busy.”

“I just wanted to clear my name.”

That she got a kick out of. As big and dangerous as he looked, the mayor's secretary had trouble picturing him on the stand. He was the head honcho at NYPD, after all. Everybody's friend. “It was never in danger,” she told him, smiling.

His entire stance altered with her forgiving change of expression. “In that case, will you let me buy you another cup of coffee?”

The smile vanished, and Kurenai's mind raced. Didn't see that coming. It would have been easy enough to shake him off using the old I'm-already-seeing-someone routine. But frankly, she wasn't seeing anyone. And Asuma was impossible to miss.

Her smile materialized once more. “There are free refills here.”

Asuma bent his long legs and squeezed into the opposite side of the booth she occupied. “Well, that's just convenient for me, isn't it?”

Kurenai laughed. Both of them rested a hand on the tabletop, their fingers scant inches apart.

---

That Asuma saw her working for his father now and then, during those visits to the mayor's office his position required him to put up with, did not phase him. As much as Kurenai stirred him (and that was the perfect word for it – some men claimed complete and total bulldozing by women, but so far he had been merely stirred), he was adept at sticking to professional boundaries. Mastering right place/right time techniques had brought him so far, so young.

That wasn't to say the chief of police ignored her casual smiles or polite conversation, or that he did not enjoy the conservative-yet-sexy pantsuits and skirt-blazer combinations she wore without fail to work. He just preferred the far more liberal ensembles Kurenai chose to don for the dinners they went to, such as the miniskirted black halter dress with the sky-high heels, or the V-neck tee shirt and skinny jeans she sported the day they took Coney Island by storm.

Oh yes. Asuma liked those just fine.

He discovered, however, about a month after the tentative initiation of their singularly unexpected relationship, that he relished her good looks as much without clothes as he did when she was dressed.

Not so shallow as some of the other, less choosy men he knew from the force, Asuma was as drawn in by her intellect as her physical features. She lacked little in either mind or body, and what she did (Kurenai possessed, for instance, the unique inability to contain her true feelings, try as she might) was easily compensated for by other aspects (those feelings were always well-founded, in fact).

She respected herself, which was more than he could say for past brushes with romance. And she liked people of all sorts, which relieved him because he was bombarded by requests to meet her by various friends and acquaintances; she handled Shikamaru well, and the Nara lawyer apparently got yet another client in the form of his girlfriend. She thoroughly enjoyed Chouji's food when they visited the restaurant, Uzumaki's. And she even wore some of the clothes Ino modeled, which helped the two polar women to connect on some level.

It had been Kurenai who had first suggested the notion of taking their relationship to the next level – if one can suggest with their wordless mouth and persuade deftly with their hands simultaneously. Asuma took her up on it because, by then, he had arrived at the point where the idea of her in the arms of any other man incensed him almost to possession. Of course, Kurenai was no woman who could be possessed.

“How do you feel?” he softly queried in the minutes after they managed to catch their breath in the dark of his bedroom that first time.

Kurenai grinned impishly, turning her head to press a follow-up kiss to his warm, bare chest. “Curiously powerful.”

“Why curiously?

“Well,” she confided, laughter visible in her eyes in the light from the adjoining bathroom's open door, “you can be so daunting. Physically.”

He chuckled, passing a hand over her soft, black hair. “You're pretty scary yourself,” joked Asuma, earning an unheated smack to the shoulder and her playful giggles when he dove beneath the sheets with her.

In his teenage years, he had considered all of the things he might have wanted from his life, primarily disentanglement from his father and the politics beyond campaigns and causes. Now, the younger Sarutobi, all at once, could not think of a single thing that would content him further.

---

“Fuck.”

Kurenai wasn't highly prone to swearing unless placed in a frightening or embarrassing situation. Her current predicament satisfied both conditions better than any she had previously been in.

The word, in any case, was likely the most appropriately used in this instance, anyway. She felt both hot and cold as she exited the ladies restroom on her floor at work. Her fingers were tensed into the same arrangement of moments before, when they had been occupied by a slim white stick, upon which her future appeared like a dreaded poltergeist.

Mayor Sarutobi stepped through the elevator doors just as she was crossing the room to her desk, in clear view of the older man's perceptive gaze. “Miss Yuuhi?” he queried, addressing her with the usual appropriate title. Behind him, the muscled pair of his regular security guards dispersed, leaving them alone together during the late-day lull.

Kurenai's eyes flashed to those of her boss with the startled alacrity of a nervous bird, seeking the source of strange noises. “Mr. Mayor,” she greeted him, her voice breathy and unusually empty of welcome. “I thought you weren't scheduled to come back until...”

But the secretary trailed off, unable to finish the sentence that she was only forming to stall the inevitable question.

“What's wrong?” Sarutobi asked her.

She wavered. No matter how bitterly Asuma may have felt toward him – the animosity between the mayor and the police chief was not only obvious, it was practically palpable – Kurenai had continually seen him as fatherly and warm as was possible for one in so stressful a profession. At the very least, he had never spoken out against her dating his son. This fatherly warmth now buckled her, and tears silently debuted on her ashen face.

“I...” Grasping the edge of her desk for support, Kurenai saw the overhead fluorescent light crack, then burst with the moisture in her eyes. Speech lost to the subtle hum of air conditioner and elevator motor in the office, she was capable only of pressing a hand to her still-flat belly and communicating that way.

Mayor Sarutobi took one of her shoulders into his hand and patted. “I see,” he said. “I see.”

It was, considering the circumstances, surprisingly comforting.

---

“I'm afraid there's been an occurrence.”

Those were never good words to hear from Yushiro Sarutobi. It was just Asuma's personal hatred of the man's bullshit polite phrasing that really put him on edge. “What?”

He stood in his father's office, having shown after a call put in to his desk over the private line he reserved for emergencies. His reluctance had ebbed, however, once he had reached the correct floor and found Kurenai away from her desk; away from the building, apparently.

The mayor sat back in his high-backed, leather swivel chair – not for the effect of appearing intimidating but because he truly seemed quite exhausting. Raising a hand to rub at his age-lined eyes emphasized the notion.

“I take it you know she hasn't felt well lately.” Sarutobi's eyes were two identical bullets, spiraling into Asuma's head.

It gave him one hell of a headache. “Yeah, she mentioned it. What's the matter?” His tone grew steadily less composed, but his father remained unchanged.

That is, he did until Asuma's glare intensified in a blatant attempt to procure a direct answer by intimidation. Asuma could not know that, on the sidelines of his current thoughts, Sarutobi wondered exactly when he and his son began to fit into the category of dysfunctional. “Miss Yuuhi – Kurenai – is pregnant with your child.”

Asuma's spine straightened as though someone had thrust an iron rod up his back. It was a good thing Sarutobi sat several feet away. The old man could have breathed on him and knocked the much bigger man to the floor. “She's...”

“Pregnant. Don't act shell-shocked. You're mother did give you that talk when you were a boy, didn't she?”

This wasn't the time for sardonicism, but old habits died hard. “Kurenai told you?” Asuma had a difficult time believing his girlfriend would go to her boss before she came clean with him.

A gray eyebrow elevated over the other by a half-inch. “Not verbally, if that's what you mean. I've gotten to know her in this months she's been here. It wasn't very hard to figure out when I caught her crying.”

He had never even seen Kurenai cry. A long, jagged-edged silence penetrated the space between father and son. “What do you want me to do, Dad?”

The title “dad” momentarily threw off the mayor, but the police chief was too preoccupied to notice. “What is it that you want to do? All of this means scandal, you know.”

“I don't give a damn about scandal!” he said heatedly. “Jesus, you don't think I'll be there for you, do you? I wanted to know if you thought I should marry her before or after she gives birth to my...my...” Asuma's face suddenly drained of all color, fingers twitching. The import of the situation had fallen settled completely on him.

“We call them children here,” said Sarutobi, amused in spite of himself. “And I'll leave the matter of marriage to the two of you, if you don't mind. It's not like you've ever required my advice anyway.”

Asuma drew a very deep breath, then released in the same way he exhaled nicotine smoke. “I should go to her.” He realized that he very badly wanted to, right now. Turning, he made a beeline for the door of his father's office.

Hand on the polished knob, he paused and spoke without looking back. “I'm sorry.” He watched the wood grain of the door as he waited for a response.

“As long as you take care of my grandchild,” it came, “everything should be all right, Asuma.”

He left, leaving his father to accept the sound of his footfalls as a goodbye. It was a usual means of farewell between the two of them. But this time, there was less negativity to it and something that contained a semblance of peace.

---

It was a deliberate choice to not answer her cell phone. Kurenai could not trust herself to speak to him if it wasn't in person, fearing a new overload of stressed sobbing. She had heard hormones went haywire in expecting women, but she hadn't felt this anxious since her last bout of college finals. It was a far cry from her usual put-together self, and she didn't like it at all.

This probably explained why she was back in her coffee shop, drinking tea this time, and staring out the window at the current bustle of activity. There was a high school kid delivering pizza on his bicycle, and an elderly woman was purchasing that morning's New Yorker from a burly man at a corner stand. A group of Columbia University students stood with their smiling, bun-haired instructor, calling to passersby with her and handing out flyers on weapon awareness.

Kurenai felt like their polar opposite; she was not busy, but someone was, inside of her, busy growing and gaining life while all she could do was sit here in a lonely booth, feeding it occasional drinks of tea that was losing heat by the minute.

She couldn't help but note the gleaming wedding ring on the Columbia instructor. And the woman looked quite a few years younger than herself. The thought was depressing enough to make her sigh. So absorbed, it took her a few seconds to realize someone had seated himself across the table from her.

“Asuma.” The note of surprise that worked its way into her tone was likely unnecessary. She hadn't planned on avoiding him, but Kurenai now understood that was what she'd been doing since his calls began coming at ten-thirty this morning.

Six hours later, Asuma looked throughly perplexed by the evasion and, more than that, a little hurt. It was odd to see him look hurt, just as it had been odd to see him nervous that first time he had approached her in this very booth.

“Why didn't you tell me yet?”

Beside the baby, something inside her kicked – guilt, she realized. She child certainly wasn't old enough to be so aggressive. “I didn't mean to not tell you,” she mumbled, raising her cold tea to her lips.

Familiar with the tactic, Asuma pressed his hand over hers before the cup could obscure her face. “I mean it, Kurenai. Did you think I wouldn't care?”

“No.” The idea startled her as it hadn't ever crossed her mind. “I was...I was worried you would care too much,” she said, the words confusing even her.

Asuma, however, seemed to know exactly what she meant. “I do care too much,” the younger Sarutobi intoned quietly. He had yet to withdraw his touch. Kurenai realized he had no intention of doing so. “But I don't mind. I can only hope you really don't, either.”

His eyes seemed so dark at the moment, Kurenai errantly thought. His face actually looked considerably paler, the hair of his beard stark against his cheeks. It hit her quite forcibly that Asuma Sarutobi, chief of the New York Police Department, was as terrified as she was.

Seemingly of their own volition, her hand turned to grip his from beneath. “I don't.” A smile bloomed on her lips. “It's just...I'm going to be a mother!”

A low, somewhat jittery chuckle escaped his throat. “Don't take all the credit, Kurenai,” he said, some of his former tendency to joke returning. “I helped. I'm gonna be a father. The father.” What he murmured next, softly enough it felt as though he were telling the most important of secrets, made the pregnant woman's heart go from zero to sixty in a split second. “And the husband, too, if I'm lucky.”

Absurdly, her eyes flitted about, first to the service counter as if she thought someone was listening, then to the cluster of students outside. The married woman, however, was now gone – home to the groom, probably. It was almost five o' clock.

“The husband, hm?” she whispered, the smile transforming into a delighted grin. “Well...I think I could be agreeable to that.” Meeting his eyes, she leaned into the large palm of Asuma's hand as he pressed it to her cheek.

“Ah.” Leaning forward, he grinned back. “That's a relief. I haven't known many agreeable people in my life. I have rowdy cops to deal with, and that lawyer friend of mine you met can be the laziest guy, and of course Ino—”

Kurenai stopped his energy-inspired rambling with her own lips. “I can't make promises to stay this way,” she warned him. “I like control.”

She was pleased that Asuma gave up on talking, preferring to pull her in for more kisses. This, Kurenai thought, was an arrangement she could definitely agree to.

The End

[Past Times] [Naruto: NejiTen AU] "Resolve"

Fri, 28 Dec 2007 19:30:29 GMT

Title: Resolve
Author: NessieGG
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: NejiTen
Summary: [AU] Neji is intrigued by a woman at a company party and meets her again in a quite different location...

It's December 31st. He hasn't been on the ice for five minutes when he spies her gliding fluidly past tall snowbanks. She wears black leggings and a flimsy soft pink skirt beneath a long cotton coat of urban gray. Comfortable clothes, he notes. Good for ice skating at a rink. But this is a lake outside the city, frozen not by chemicals but by volatile nature, and she probably isn't warm enough even with gloved hands.

The office holiday party is (to use Shikamaru's words) a drag. Neji attends because Lee pesters him about it incessantly the entire week before, and if spending a couple hours drinking eggnog and enduring Naruto pointless chatter is what it takes close his gleaming mouth, than he does what he has to do.

His eyes, pure as the winter scene ambient there, catch sight of the rose-colored ribbons in her hair buns as they rise and stream behind her. His lips quirk. He would never have expected to see her here.

He remembers that he doesn't like eggnog and goes with champagne instead; not as fine as his uncle's, perhaps, but then, he had opted to switch companies and stay away from Hyuuga business affairs. Lee's talking continues – he couldn't have fooled himself into expecting less. But this time he actually has something to say.

She is as exhilarating out here as she is in closed walls, perhaps more so. And she hasn't seen him yet, which gives him license to watch her lift her hands to the sky as the wind and ice appears to carry her. She thinks she's alone. But he's here.

“Neji, this is Tenten. Tenten, Neji. She's new to the company, and I've been asked to show her around.” Lee's smile is suspicious, particularly when he adds, “But I must speak with Kiba about a puppy he's trying to sell. Would you mind entertaining our friend?”

She is lovely in a cocktail dress of vibrant blue, modest enough to give her a good starting reputation, sexy enough to make it impossible to overlook her. She wears drop earring that twinkle behind waving strands of hair escaped from her unique style as they hang near her chocolate eyes, flecked with gold.

“Hi.” Her voice sounds like Christmas bells.

He takes another quick sip of his drink to make sure he can still breathe properly. “Welcome.” His sounds warding and contradicts the word of greeting, and maybe that's a good thing. He would, he somehow knows, let her near in a heartbeat.

It's likely that, like him, she hadn't had any training on skating. And it's dangerous for her to be here – no one at work has any idea that he spends much of his winter free time here because he likes the way ice feels under his bladed feet, and though he only walks – no long, artful glides for him – Neji would like to keep his no-fun all-work exterior intact.

It occurs to him that he could leave, and she, in the throes of freeing chill, would probably never realize he had been there.

“You don't seem to be enjoying yourself very much,” she comments boldly, seating herself on the empty side of the lounge sofa beside him. She too drinks champagne. “Not one for parties?”

His gaze slides to hers, and he finds her true smile there. “I celebrate best on my own.”

The air is biting cold, and the dark ends of his own hair whip in the gust. Her skirt flutters. Tenten reminds him of a fairy enjoying her frozen domain. And now she changing directions, coming his way, and it's too late to do anything except move slowly and admire the graceful power of her legs, the steady rhythm of movement. Compared to her, he feels bulky and awkward.

She sees him, then, and in the glow of a high light pole overhead, she is close enough for him to make out her features. There's a slight tilt to her head, and recognition enters her face.

“What about New Year's?”

“Excuse me?”

She is unfazed by his stiff response. “Don't you celebrate on New Year's eve with friends or family or something?”

Memories of formal dinners and handshakes, not kisses, top the pile of thought, and Neji's mouth thins. “No.”

She starts over to him, presumably to make polite small talk. Neji instantly dreads it. He's not very good at small talk and niceties. And it's late and dark. The lake is blanketed with shadow. She could laugh at him, and he wouldn't even know it.

“I didn't think you'd be the type for skating,” Tenten remarks, forgoing a greeting completely, surprising him.

“Too bad. I've been to some great New Year's parties.”

He makes a noncommittal sound, as though to suggest he is not nearly as fascinated by her as he is, and both of them drink. Red, green, and gold lights shine dimly on her bare shoulders, the slope of her nose, the smooth-looking column of her neck. Watching her silently is a pleasure, and she doesn't seem to require conversation, though perhaps she does enjoy it.

His concern subsides a little when he sees she isn't shivering. The exercise must be keeping her warm. Neji remembers he's been accused of being unusually susceptible to cold – that would have been Lee's statement. “I've never seen you here before,” he says stoically.

“There's usually no one here this late at night,” she tells him.

“Why aren't you at a party?”

She grins, a brief show of adventurousness. “I thought I'd try something new.”

“I'll refill your glass.”

He stands, and she wordlessly follows. The punch table is mostly abandoned by those executing in-depth conversation with other employees, but there's still one bottle left of champagne. Neji uncorks and pours, handing her the champagne flute. Her fingers, soft as snow, brush his. He is quick to pull away.

She waits calmly for him to finish and then takes the lead, meandering along the edges of the room, past the lit Christmas tree, past the holly wreathe, past display of wrapped boxes. Traditions going by.

The frosty wind carries her warm scent to him; vanilla, tinged with spice. She had smelled that way at the office. In the six days since their meeting, Neji hasn't seen Tenten. He finds the sight of her appealing, especially the unbound way she looks. No high heels, no expensive jewelry, just natural comfort.

Neji pauses, and Tenten does the same. Her expression is one of curiosity, and she follows his gaze upward. Her colored lips part almost imperceptibly as she registers the white-dotted green sprig hanging above them, a cheery scarlet bow bending as though to encourage.

Well, he thinks, this was predictable. But had he anticipated mistletoe? Not at all.

They begin skating side by side. He isn't sure which of them initiated the action.

He appreciates that she is luminous, that a light altogether different from the strings of bulbs seems to be emitted by her. It's an odd thought, far odder than one he is known to have, but Neji doesn't let go of it just yet. It's a very inviting light – or maybe she is merely inviting. Her dark eyes beckon, surely, and he steps forward—

“You have a nice stride,” Tenten remarks. “Are you cold?”

He could almost smile at the question. “No.”

“I'm not very traditional,” he murmurs and evades her just as her fingers brush his tie. Something like regret swells inside him, and he forces it down. He doesn't even know her, this Tenten, after all.

It cold be Neji's imagination, but her light dims. Just a little. “Who is?” she replies.

“Are you making any resolutions tonight?” asks Tenten. “I've been trying to think of one.”

It hadn't occurred to him. And now, snow begins to descend in cool, tiny flakes.

Her face changes, and she adds, “That's right. Sorry, that's a tradition, isn't it? You don't really...”

The Hyuuga feels the urge to say something. “I just—”

Her digital wristwatch beeps out the hour.

He watches her go, vanilla trailing behind her, and the dark corner she leaves him in is suddenly very lonely.

“Midnight,” Tenten announces. “You know, it really is late. I should probably—”

His hand finds her waist, the fabric of his coat meeting hers, and her eyes fly up, wide, to stare into his. “I like some traditions,” Neji tells her, “and isn't there one about New Year's?”

Her smile comes back, a slow spread, and he pulls her to him with ease on the ice. Alone with the light post and the freshly falling snow, her arms cross behind his neck, and she feels divine to him, and he feels very good himself.

Her lips are cool was grew very warm very soon. There is no one to shout “happy new year,” and somehow that is perfectly all right.

They break apart, breath misting and mingling between them. They both smile.

Tenten's hand falls into Neji's. “So. That resolution?”

He tucks her to his side, his outer hand still locked in front of them, and they skate forward. “To have resolve,” he says simply.

Her fingers squeeze. “I like it.”

The End

[Past Times] [Naruto: KibaIno AU] "Worth The Aggravation"

Sun, 16 Dec 2007 19:08:30 GMT

Title: Worth The Aggravation
Author: wordynessie
Prompt: City
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Inuzuka Kiba/Yamanaka Ino, also featuring Asuma and Nara Shikamaru.
Genre: Romance/Humor/Brief action
Rating: Teen
Summary: Supermodel Ino Yamanaka comes home to New York City and is dismayed to learn that her protection has been placed in the hands of a promising cop, Kiba Inuzuka, and his dog. But the arrangement may not be so bad after all...

Ino Yamanaka was sexy, graceful, and she smelled good; three pluses in an initial evaluation. Chances were, too, that she was very professional in her work. Otherwise it would be unlikely that she was considered by all the proper authorities the top model in the country.

However, Kiba Inuzuka reflected with an air that was nearly brooding, she had the inescapable minus that she was a freaking bitch.

“Tell me again,” said the woman of the hour to Asuma Sarutobi, captain of the NYPD's investigation unit, “why I need additional security?” The upward inflection that finished her demand was executed with a slight toss of her blond head, presumably to try to cast off the chief's impressive height in comparison with her more normal stature.

Asuma took a good long drag from his cigarette, whether to alleviate a particularly bad nicotine pang or to postpone responding, Kiba could not be certain. At any rate, he was apparently not bothered by the 'no smoking' sign on the wall of the airport exit where they stood waiting for a taxi driver to finish loading Ino's rather excessive luggage into his cab. Around them, passengers-to-be and new arrivals bustled, the majority obviously annoyed by their unmoving state in the mostly mobile crowd but none directly commenting on it due to Asuma's starched uniform and gleaming badge. It was just as well – the better to distract them from the identity of his conversation partner.

At last exhaling a long trail of gray smoke, Asuma smiled, and Ino wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Because you have a bad habit of dismissing your standard guys, and your agent is sick of it.”

“And why,” she went on, shifting her perturbed gaze from Kiba to his companion, “is it necessary for that to be here?”

At the retorting growl, Inuzuka placed a soothing hand on the head of the very large, pale brown canine at his side. “I train the police dogs,” Kiba said in the beginnings of temper, “and Akamaru here is my partner.”

“Not fond of people, are you?” she queried archly. There wasn't a note of genuine interest in her voice, but cool distance in her ice blue eyes.

He showed her teeth, but the effect was more of a grimace than a grin. “Only a few.”

“Officer Inuzuka is young and promising,” interpolated Asuma with a tap to his cigarette to rid it of ash buildup. “You have a lot in common, Ino.”

“I don't like dogs.”

“That doesn't matter. Point is, you want to do some work in the city. We can't have a repeat of what happened last time or your father will kill me barehanded. So either you accept the trained professional I've assigned to your safety or you turn around and hop a jet right back to L.A.” Another smoke cloud filled the air. That and Asuma's casual tone of voice did nothing to diminish the seriousness with which he spoke. “You're an adult, Ino. Your call.”

Kiba watched the fashion supermodel fold her arms, hip cocked, frost-pink fingernails drumming. It wasn't hard to deduce that she was upset by the ultimatum. Akamaru's tail began to wag.

“Fine,” she huffed after a measure of internal debate. Her sharp gaze arrowed to Kiba. “But if you even think about taking advantage of this situation, I swear to God I'll have you fired, arrested by the guy who sits in the desk across from you, and your dog sent to the pound...all within one hour.”

Kiba bristled, several choice words coming to mind, but bit down on the inside of his cheek to maintain his cool. Starting to follow her toward the waiting taxi, he aimed a mutinous glare at Asuma.

The captain only raised a hand in farewell, beaming facetiously. “Welcome home, Ino.”

---

She didn't take kindly to the notion that she was incapable of taking care of herself. That more than anything was why she tried to get by in her working years without having to feel like a child that required constant supervision.

Ino also didn't take kindly to the way her current supervisor shoved her into the cab the second she stepped off the curb at the airport exit. She hadn't even gotten so much as a glance at the city yet; arguing with Asuma took all of her attention. Even more shocked was she when the enormous dog, Akamaru, leapt onto the back seat with her as Officer Inuzuka slid into the front.

“Excuse me,” she began, the startle she took making her voice shrill.

“He clearly won't fit in the front,” the policeman fielded immediately. “And it's not like he's gonna run beside the taxi.”

One of her hands dug into thick fur to retain as much distance between model and mutt as was possible (about four inches as a result). “Was there a reason you couldn't offer me the passenger seat?” Ino did her best to ignore the chuckle the cab driver emitted, not bothering with discretion.

Dark eyes met hers from beneath an overlong fringe of dark brown bangs. “Gotta make sure I have a good vantage point, for shooters and such. Right?”

Akamaru panted. Ino stifled a groan when a dribble of drool landed wet and warm on the back of her hand.

“Where to?” the driver finally asked, his need for humor abated.

Ino opened her mouth to reply, but Kiba beat her to the punch.

“NYPD headquarters.” This time he didn't bother to look at his charge for her reaction. He must have known it would be a mixture of agitation and surprised curiosity. “I've got something to take care of. I received a text message while I was picking up the princess here.”

The something, it turned out, was a woman with long brown hair, ripped jeans, a tube top, and a sheepish grin. She had been held at the station and, judging from her relieved expression, had been waiting for the officer.

“I'm sorry, Kiba!” she exclaimed as soon as he was in view. “How was I supposed to the know the guy didn't have spyware? Or that some of his spies were the cops?”

“As a hacker,” Kiba said in obvious aggravation, “aren't you anti-spyware? And what is this, Hana, the fourth time you've been caught?”

“The third!” exclaimed Hana Inuzuka, giving her hair an indignant flip.

Frowning, Kiba waved off the officer keeping an eye on the hacker (and did not miss that he was most likely the one to execute his arrest should Ino Yamanaka have reason to make good on her earlier threat). Ino looked on, astounded, as the scene unfolded. “We won't charge you – this time. It's not like you have any money.”

“Well, I do now. Guys pays big bucks to access the hard drive at the Pentagon.” Hana grinned broadly. “Just kidding!”

“You let people like that go?” demanded Ino. “How corrupted are you?”

“I'm not corrupt, I'm her brother.” Kiba snapped his fingers, and Akamaru was at his side. “Which might mean the same thing,” he muttered under his breath before escorting Ino out of the station, where she was getting some suspicious looks and more than a few speculating whispers.

When they made it to her building on the upper east side, Ino found herself once again squeezed between Akamaru and a hard place – namely, Kiba's chest – in the elevator. And as they were heading to the twenty-second floor, it was going to be long ride up.

Ino relaxed her shoulders in an attempt to show how indifferent she was to the state of things, yet her legs, which Akamaru's tail rhythmically thumped, remained locked.

At this proximity, Kiba, by the rapidly flaring nostrils of his dog, was able to make an amendment to an earlier observation of her. “You smell too good,” he said, sounding louder than he really was, cramped in with Akamaru, the model, and the many suitcases Ino had brought with her.

Startled, Ino jerked her head to the right in order to hook him with a “what the hell” look at the apparently random comment. As it was, she succeeded in looking only generally perturbed, as her long blond ponytail whipped the police officer in the left side of the face. “Excuse me?”

Kiba mentally affirmed that he hated hearing those words from her, and she had thus far uttered them only twice. He resisted the urge to reach up and rub at his assaulted left cheek – not because he minded her seeing the reaction but because such a maneuver would most likely result in his hand grazing her rear, and he didn't want to suffer her indignant screeching (and she probably would screech) in this lack of space between them. He preferred a slightly stinging cheek to a burst eardrum any day.

“You smell too good,” he repeated. “Or rather, you smell too much. It throws off Akamaru's nose. So you'll have to stop wearing perfume around us.”

“How good is he if he can't operate around someone wearing perfume?” Ino asked, her eyes narrowed.

“To be more specific,” continued Kiba, indulging her question, “he has trouble with closed-in areas like apartments and condos. He's bred more for street work. Your scent only makes it worse.”

There came a heavenly ding, and the elevator doors parted smoothly. Ino, hands full of suitcases, left Kiba to grab the remaining three, and proceeded down the well-lit corridor with its intricately-painted walls to a set of double doors on the north side of the building. Managing to dig out the key from the depths of her purse, she called back to him, “Well, fortunately he'll only be here during your working hours. I'm sure he'll tolerate the circumstances for that long.”

Kiba's lips grew thin. “Actually, that's not it.” He followed her into the apartment, which was truly more of a penthouse, after sending Akamaru a sympathetic glance. He told himself he was not instantly impressed by the state of the art appliances among the décor that spoke of class.

“What do you mean?” Ino had set her suitcases a few feet inside the living room given way to by the entrance, prompting Kiba to do the same. He watched Akamaru shut the doors with a front paw. His charge was barely paying him any attention now, preferring instead of focus on the gift basket that had been left on the glass and iron coffee table in front of a green, suede-covered sofa.

“I mean,” Kiba said, “that we won't be here for just working hours. This is no nine-to-five job.” Ino's eyes darted to his, twin points of blue on brown. “Akamaru and I'll be staying here, in this place, as long as you're in New York.”

“What!”

Apparently Captain Sarutobi had failed to debrief this woman on the full extent of Officer Inuzuka's assignment. Kiba could have committed murder one.

“But why? How do you expect me to...what the hell does Asuma think he's...” Kiba was relatively sure he might see her pop a blood vessel. Akamaru panted excitedly. “You don't belong here!” Ino blurted at last.

Kiba folded his arms and assessed her with an expression that suggestion simmering under the surface. “No kidding. I'm bred for street work, too.”

Yamanaka opened her mouth to no doubt snap back something witty, but her cell phone rang and she jerked the device from her purse. “What?” she seethed into the phone without bothering to check the caller's identity. “Ah, Shikamaru. I was hoping you were my dad... No, I'm planning an argument that will last for hours. You've done prosecution, what's the best way to threaten an agent with job insecurity?” She blew out an impatient breath, then ran a hand through loose strands of hair that had been freed from her ponytail. “July...damn, I have no idea what's happening in July. It sounds possible – for me, that is. Just a sec.”

She hit a button on her cell phone, then set it on the coffee table, taking a moment to pierce Kiba with a resentful glare. “Okay. July.”

“Maybe,” came a voice from the activated speaker phone. Kiba listened to the man talk with the initial suspicion he had been trained to experience. “It all depends on schedules, really. There's either this case that has to be resolved or that show that has to reach the end of its run. I'm starting to think Temari and I were never meant to get married.”

Her back was to the policeman, so Kiba could not see Ino's grin. “You could live in sin the rest of your lives. I'll still be your friend. Besides, after the press mob at Sakura's wedding, I'm not sure I'm ready for another big bash.”

“Thanks. Chouji, however, is dying to cook for this wedding, and I'd regret not giving him the opportunity. Talk to your dad – we both know you're not gonna switch agents – and get back to me about July. Then go to that Uzumaki's restaurant Chouji's at. He'd like to see you, and you'd like the food.”

“Say hi to Temari. I might come see a show while I'm here, I don't know. We'll have to see.”

“Story of your life,” Shikamaru conceded dryly before there was a dull noise and the call was terminated. Ino gave a low laugh as she went to her phone and shut the lid.

Having been on good behavior by remaining silent while she talked, Kiba now asked, “Who was that?”

“It's not any of your business,” she informed him icily, proving how adept she was at altering between moods instantaneously.

“It is because it's my job to ask. Who was on the phone, Ino?”

She glanced at him again, maybe because he hadn't said her first name yet or because his tone left little room for flippant remarks. “Shikamaru Nara, one of my oldest friends. Okay?”

“Nara,” he began, “with—”

“With Hyuuga & Nara. That's right. He and his partner, Neji Hyuuga, are the biggest firm in New York, blah, blah, blah, everyone knows.” Ino threw herself down onto the couch and crossed her legs. “And they're my representation. Fantastic, huh?”

“Great,” he agreed unenthusiastically.

“So let me get this straight.” Regarding him with an upturned chin, she said, “You and your dog are to live here in my home for the duration of my stay in the city. Is that correct?” At his nod, she proceeded. “And you have been assigned to be my personal bodyguard for my every waking moment, inside and out?”

“Also your every sleeping moment.”

Her lip curled but her face was too pretty to be marred by it. “What, are you going to stand in the stall when I enter a public restroom?”

“I can understand why you're not thrilled with the situation. I can think of a number of cases I'd rather be a part of.” Kiba patted Akamaru's head, as though they together shared this current misfortune. “But I don't deserve this mind abuse of yours.”

“This is my life you're invading, Officer Inuzuka.”

“Call me Kiba, dammit. Because,” he went on, heatedly now, “whether you like it or not, I've been given the task to protect you as long as you are within city limits. I will stay with you, I will guard you, I will even follow you on dates – I suggest you don't go on any, by the way – because those are my orders. Trust me, I'm starting to get a lot more upset about you than this. But you agreed to the deal, and now I call the shots. So deal with it.”

Ino's lips parted.

“And you will call my dog 'Akamaru.' Got it?”

She was fuming, he knew, without the signs of a woman who had been brought to a boil – but fuming all the same.

At last, Ino found the calm to reply, “Fine. Kiba. Do me a favor and put those suitcases in the first bedroom down the hall to the left. You can have the one to the right. Akamaru may sleep out here. And for Christ's sake, if he makes a mess, you will be paying for new carpeting or whatever else.”

“He's very well-trained,” Kiba assured her with forced placidity. “And suitcases, sure.”

“Good. Now, if you don't mind...” She rose, quickly and gracefully, from the couch. “I've got jet lag and I have to be on Fifth Avenue at five o' clock in the morning. Good night.”

Kiba watched her bolt from the room, only to hear a door snap shut seconds later. With a sigh, he hefted the first round of suitcases to deposit them in her room while she was making use of the bathroom, then get the hell out of her way once he was finished.

---

Ino was having trouble sleeping, something that drove her crazy when she was in the middle of a work season. The makeup crew gave you odd looks if you came in with bags under your eyes.

She didn't know why she was so unsettled. She'd had a wonderful shoot that day, atop a skyscraper roof, posing for an ad – for perfume, incidentally. The Empire State Building had been in the alignment, emphasizing a lovely day in May. A giant fan had been blowing her hair, accentuating her naked back. It had been a topless shot, her arms folded across her front with her tanned back to the camera, which she looked at flirtatiously.

Ino had also engaged in a rousing yelling match with her father, and even though daddy knew best, it helped to heighten her energy level with the adrenaline rush and made her practically glow for the shoot. Kiba, she estimated, had watched the events with due fascination, but he also seemed to grow bored standing on the sidelines with Akamaru.

When her top came off the first time, she had looked at him in time to see his dark eyes go quite wide, and the grin she gave him was caught on camera. It was that photo, she had learned, that was going in the final ad. She didn't tell Kiba about it.

Her bed was lusciously cool, covered in satin, and still she felt like she was burning up. It was, if she was honest with herself, not unlikely that she was horny. She hadn't had sex with anyone in close to six months. But the likelihood of her wanting to sleep with that mangy – and that was precisely the word for him, Ino was certain – was practically non-existant. Even if he did have expressive eyes, a full mouth, and a spread of muscles the thin T-shirts he preferred to wear did absolutely nothing to hide.

Damn. Ino threw off the covers and let her bare legs breathe. It really was hot. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she slid to the floor with intent to get a drink of water and check the thermostat.

When she opened the door of her bedroom, waywardly thinking that Kiba slept across the hall, she let out a long scream.

There was a loud thud from the police officer's room, followed by frantic barking from the living room, and then Kiba was in the hallway with her. They were quite the pair, freaked out and poorly clad as they were; Kiba wore boxer shorts and Ino only a long nightshirt.

It was not her state of undress that caught Kiba's attention but rather the increasingly bright and growing ball of flame shivering from what appeared to be a stainless steel waste basket at the end of Ino's kitchen counter, in view from the hallway.

Kiba exclaimed a string of creative curses, dashing into action simultaneously. Akamaru lunged over, sniffed and barked, and rather than seizing the fire extinguisher right behind the refrigerator two feet away, Kiba covered the waste basket with the nearest object he could find – in this case, a vintage umbrella stand found beside the hall entrance.

Ino watched, paralyzed, until Kiba lifted the umbrella stand off of the waste basket. In the light of only a bathroom fixture that had bee left on, she saw ash and smoke fly up from the contents of the waste basket, which the now-extinguished fire had been steadily burning.

“What,” Ino began, but she had to swallow in order to ask properly. “What happened?”

Kiba took a whiff of what looked to be charred filings among blackened paper towels in the waste basket. “Zinc,” he told her curtly. “Wet zinc. Someone went to the trouble of sneaking in to hurt you indirectly.”

“Wet zinc?”

“Zinc powder. When it's wet, it ignites. Someone placed it, dry, into the trash can here, then covered it with damp paper towels – taken right from your roll, it looks like.”

She recognized the hearts and stars pattern, barely discernible in its state and this lighting. “Who was it?” Ino could speak without trembling now.

“Dunno.” Satisfied that the danger had been evaded for now, Kiba turned to her, loose bangs messy from sleep and falling in his eyes. “Got any enemies?”

“Probably only someone wanting to smoke you out.” Ino leaned against the wall to her left. “Someone doesn't like you being here.”

In spite of the current scenario, Kiba's mouth quirked. “I don't think you know enough about chemistry to do this stuff.”

“I didn't do it, of course!” she shrilled. “Besides, I...”

He kept looking, his gaze solemn now. Even Akamaru was still, studying her.

“I'm glad you were here,” Ino finished quietly, damning the unusual heat that filled her face. To lessen the tension, she added, “I would have thrown more water on it or used the fire extinguisher and made it worse.”

“Well...” Kiba made as though to put his hands in his pockets before realizing he didn't have any. A small look of embarrassment came over his own face. “I'm gonna put a call into the office, let them know about this. It's only three AM and you don't have anything on your schedule until six tonight. Why don't you go back to sleep?”

She was far too jittery to think about sleeping right now, but Ino didn't want to let him know that. Casting a look at the patiently waiting police dog, she smiled. “Does Akamaru like scrambled eggs?”

She didn't notice, of course, that this was the first time she had smiled – a real smile, not a teasing grin - in his presence, and so Kiba was affected in a way he hadn't anticipated. “Yeah. I mean, not too many, he'll be sick.”

“Okay.” Moving past him, she flipped on the kitchenette light, then went to the fridge and began pulling out an egg carton. “Hey, Kiba, why...” She paused, trying to find a way to pose the question delicately. “Why did Akamaru not pick up on the smell of the zinc? I didn't wear any perfume today.”

Kiba moved behind Ino to reach for a hanging skillet above her head, attempting to be helpful. The action brought them into such sudden propinquity that Ino nearly dropped the single egg she pulled from the carton. He angled an unidentifiable expression toward her, his lips unsettling close to her cheek.

“Guess your natural scent smells too good for him, too,” said the cop casually, with the slightest of catches in his breath when she shifted and her hip grazed his. He quickly set the skillet on the stove and secured some distance.

Ino's smiled remained. “How about it? Scrambled eggs?”

“That depends.” The mood was far lighter now. “You got ketchup?”

“Ketchup?”

“Yeah. It's real good on eggs.”

“That's—” Ino had almost said “insane” but stopped herself. “That's something I'd be willing to try,” she amended.

Kiba produced a small smile of his own before leaving the room to make his call to the station.

She was disturbed by the latest events, yes, but with Akamaru standing beside her – as though waiting for the next incident – Ino had to admit to herself that she felt much safer. And Kiba...

“By the way, Ino.” Kiba was at the mouth of the hallway. She looked back at him, loose blond hair mussed and flying about her shoulders, one hand on the heat knob of the stove. “I'm not going anywhere. Me and Akamaru, we don't get smoked out.”

Ino cracked an egg and grinned.

She had always liked adventurous guys. Maybe this one was actually worth the aggravation.

“Hey, Kiba,” she said when he returned and eggs were scrambled. “You know how I'm meeting my friends, Sasuke and Sakura, for dinner tonight?”

“Yeah.” He sat at her table. He had politely not bothered to give himself an advantage by donning any more clothes.

“You have to come with me, don't you?”

“Everywhere but the bathroom.”

Sitting herself, she placed the egg-full skilled between them and dug in with a fork. On the floor, Akamaru was lapping at a smaller plate. “Would you be my date?”

His eyes grew perceptibly wider, a comical thing, as his mouth was already full. He was, no doubt, recalling his advice that she not date while he was her security. Swallowing, he aimed a half-suspicious, half-appeased look at her glittering blue eyes.

“All right,” Kiba agreed after several moments of deliberation. “Who knows, you might be as much fun as you look in those swimsuit commercials you do.”

Ino's slapped the ketchup bottle between them. Kiba's hand came to rest there, challengingly, but also with a bit of the protectiveness he had been so reluctant to give before.

“Much more,” she declared.

She loved being home in the city.

The End

[Past Times] [Naruto: NaruHina AU] "Pure Genius"

Sun, 25 Nov 2007 19:36:16 GMT

Title: Pure Genius
Author: NessieGG
Theme: Sea
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Naruto x Hinata
Genre: Romance, Humor.
Rating: Kid
Warning: None.
Summary: A daily subway idea becomes the highlight of the day for Hinata Hyuuga, interior designer, when she meets an ambitious chef, Naruto Uzumaki. He is everything she isn't, and she is everything he wants.

She loved New York City. Really, she did. It was just that she was wearing a dress beneath her deep brown coat, her feet were sore from her high heels, her long black hair was tangling in her hood, and she was cold even if she did like to see the snow falling gently as it did. But Hinata Hyuuga didn't like to complain.

And anyway, she thought as she descended the steps to the subway (thankfully warmer), it had been a nice showing. Mr. Lee's statues were interesting in style but not by any means ugly. She was seriously considering recommending his work to clients.

If she procured any.

Hinata sighed as she drew back the faux fur-lined hood – it was depressing to be without work, even if she was financially stable.

The swoosh sound of doors closing had her gasping and racing forward in the fluorescent light of the subway stop, scared she would miss her train. She would – she would – she—

She apparently would have her gloved hand grabbed and yanked on so that the rest of her body was pulled neatly into the moderately packed car just before the door shut. Startled, she turned wide pale eyes to those of her good Samaritan, which came in bright blue.

“Close one!” He was almost absurdly tall, spiky blond hair in disarray and damp from melted snow. His grin was wide as looked down at her. “You okay?”

“Y-yes,” she stammered. Hinata had been raised to not speak to strangers (“someone who smiles at you could be hiding his evil,” her father used to say) but he had just helped her out. “Thank you.”

“No prob! I space out a lot, too, so I know how it is. Still, if you were any bigger, you mighta not made it!” There was no ill intent in his words, only factual information.

Quiet though she was, Hinata wasn't usually spacey. Unbidden color rose to her cheeks at the second half of what he'd said.

“It's kinda late,” the blond continued. “How come you're out? It's dangerous in this area.”

“I...went to a friend's art show,” she murmured. “I don't live far away.”

“I just got off work,” he told her, a bit of melancholy entering his tone. “I'm a pasta chef.”

That would explain why he smelled rather strongly of marinara sauce and parmesan cheese. Trying to be polite, Hinata ventured, “Where do you work?” She didn't see much of his face because she tried to keep her gaze anywhere but there; lights streaking the window, an empty seat, a grimy pole.

“Ichiraku's. It's good pay, but I dunno. I'm ready to move on. I've still got two months.”

Curious about his sudden exasperation in an otherwise so cheerful man, Hinata queried queried for what he still had two months.

“My contract with Ichiraku's. Well, that, and 'til I start my own place.”

She smiled unwittingly. “Your own pasta restaurant?”

“Not just pasta; steak, seafood, burgers, poultry. Pretty much everything!” His enthusiasm was infectious.

“It sounds wonderful,” Hinata replied, meaning it. The stranger's grin widened further as their train slowed to a halt. “Well,” she began.

“This is my stop,” they said together. She blushed again, wishing she weren't so shy. It wasn't graceful, perhaps, but it was inconvenient.

He fell into step beside her as they both exited the car, pausing as Hinata did to pull up her hood in preparation for facing the winter outside. “Well, it was nice talking to you!”

Hinata returned a similar nicety, though her deepest thought was that it was nice that he wasn't a psychotic subway rider. He hadn't so much as glanced at her purse for the duration of the trip, anyway.

They parted ways, and Hinata found herself still smiling even when she arrived at home.

---

She discovered the next day that they took the same train each morning. He explained after laughing that he had moved a couple of days before and now lived only a few blocks down from her neighborhood. It was left unsaid that he was wealthier than he looked and that Hinata was even wealthier than him.

They didn't always speak to each other, but it was nice to have someone to say good morning to. He always wore the same black and orange turtle-necked coat with a pair of blue jeans and carried a newly-bleached apron. Hinata was always well-dressed, not because she could but because it was expected of someone with the Hyuuga name.

It didn't occur to her until one month after their initial meeting that she did not know his name. Timid thought she was, Hinata knew she couldn't go on forever thinking of him as the pasta chef. When she tremulously asked, he laughed whole-heartedly.

“Man, I can't believe we haven't done that yet!” he exclaimed in genuine astonishment. “Sorry. You'd think I'd remember to go through such a basic–” He stopped, realizing he was blabbing, before repeating, “Sorry. I'm Naruto Uzumaki.”

When she gave her own, his eyes went wide. “The lawyer, Hyuuga?”

Her confidence made a swift drop. “No...that's my cousin...Neji.”

“Oh, I was gonna say. You don't really look like a lawyer. You're kinda weird and quiet!”

The drop became a free-fall.

“But in a totally good way! What do you do, Hinata?” When she told him, his enthusiasm – and volume – increased noticeably. “Interior design? So you get to, like, decide what people's homes look like and stuff?” At her silent nod, he leaned against a pole and appraised her for a handful of seconds. “You gotta be pretty creative, huh? That's really cool!”

Hinata had never been put in relation with anything “really cool.” By the time her stop came, her blush had receded and most of her tension had dissipated. And that day, she advised the clinic she had been hired to choose colors for that deep orange on the walls would be perfect in the pediatric ward.

---

Tenten Long, Hinata's soon to be cousin-in-law who she had met the same night she ran into Naruto, called her for help on populating her wedding guest list. Like any large family, there were Hyuugas who could be overlooked and those who would not hesitate to estrange themselves if they were not invited. Hinata expertly categorized relatives for her, knowing fully well that Neji would just elope if he could and sever all ties.

“We'll be moving into the new condo after the honeymoon. I'm thinking red for the color scheme but Neji likes white or gray. So consider yourself hired if you want the job,” said Tenten. The offer kept Hinata delighted for the rest of the week, and Naruto noticed it.

“You really like decorating, huh?”

She flushed a little. “It's just that...I've always been cared for. My father never saw me as much of an achievement.” Hinata wound her fingers together nervous as she divulged. “So it's...important to me...to take care of myself.” She saw him flick a glance at her well-dressed body and shifted.

“Well, you're doing it,” he insisted.

“Y-yes.” Gracing him with a shy smile, the Hyuuga nodded. “I suppose I am.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, dropping a fist on an open palm as he remembered. “I wanted to tell you! I've leased my building.” When Hinata looked at him blankly, “For Uzumaki's!” he specified.

“Ah! That is such good news,” Hinata replied, relaxed by his joviality. “You only have a little while left at Ichiraku's, don't you?”

“I've put in my two week's notice, and so has Chouji. Yeah, you'll have to meet Chouji! He makes the best rib rub in New York!”

It occurred to Hinata later that day that meeting Naruto's kitchen-manager-to-be would involve being with him somewhere other than the rattling, dirty subway car where they had their morning chats. (Well, Naruto chatted, Hinata tended to remark every now and then.)

In March, the winter coats were being put into storage and Hinata took to wearing lighter suits or skirts with blazers. She thought she would faint from equal flattery and embarrassment when Naruto commented (loudly, as usual), “Hey, Hinata! I had no idea you had such nice legs!”

She attended her cousin's wedding that month in addition to planning the design of the home of Neji and his wife. She went to the family dinner obligation dictated her to endure every other month at her father's house, during which Hiashi asked why it was that she hadn't married yet. Hinata wondered if her hair turned pink as well as her skin.

Naruto would tell her of the menu he was working on, showing her printouts and asking what dishes would be appropriate for the richer clientele. Mornings became her favorite time of day.

“I don't have a clue about what it'll look like though,” the blond chef was saying one Thursday. “I know what the food'll be, but Ichiraku's was so dull, and I know my place can't be like that!”

Hinata stood silent even though it was hurt place to speak, vacillating between responding and keeping quiet.

“Hey!” Naruto grabbed her arm suddenly, causing her to jump. “Why don't I hire you to decide on all that, Hinata?”

The smile that worked its way to her lips was small and tremulous. “You – you think so?”

“Of course! Here I've been, talking to you about Uzumaki's all morning for the last, what, month and a half, and worrying all night 'cause I don't know anything about decorating – and you're an interior designer!” He laughed, at himself and at the situation, and Hinata's smile grew stronger. “I'm so stupid!”

“No, you aren't,” she began, but Naruto surprised her by setting both hands on her shoulders. Her moonlike eyes went impossibly wide.

He said, “Tomorrow I have a meeting with Chouji and with some other people who are gonna work for me. Are you free on Monday? We can talk it over. I'll buy you lunch...scratch that, I'll make you lunch!”

She was agreeing before she could fully comprehend the situation in its enormity. On Monday, she really was going to see Naruto outside of the subway...like a regular person, not just a traveling worker...almost like a – like a—

“Whoa,” Tenten observed the next day when she arrived at the newlyweds' condo. “What are you so happy about, Hinata?”

Hinata hadn't been aware her elation was so obvious. “Oh, I...” She couldn't bring herself to speak of Naruto to an outside mind just yet. “I'm just excited to begin working on yours and Neji's place.”

“Uh-huh.” Tenten smiled in a way that indicated she clearly did not believe her, but fortunately the arms consultant did not question the matter further. “Well, I'm not complaining. It's nice to see you like this. And anyway, if you'll follow me to the bathroom, I wanted to ask you about replacing light fixtures.”

---

“I think I like someone.”

Chouji Akimichi regarded his soon-to-be boss with some aback. “You think what, Naruto?”

Naruto's expression was not quite solemn, mostly because he wasn't the type to fully pull off solemnity, but he did appear competently dazed. “I think I like someone,” he repeated. “Like...like, like.”

“You still have that little crush on Sakura Haruno?”

“No way! Man, what kinda person do you think I am?” Naruto folded his arms and glared. “That was over when Sasuke married her, c'mon! It was never serious!”

“Okay, okay, sorry I asked.” Standing in the kitchen at Ichiraku's, Chouji scraped grilled chicken tenders onto a plate of Naruto's macaroni and cheese for a child's meal. “Who is it then?” Around them, waiters, waitresses, and table bussers scurried.

“Have you ever heard of Hinata Hyuuga?”

“The lawyer?”

After the past chef explained her profession as well as her relation, the larger redhead nodded. “Gotcha. So you see each other all the time.”

“Not that way,” Naruto said. “Well, not yet. I'm talking to her about designing the inside of Uzumaki's on Monday. And making her lunch. I think I–” He stopped here to scratch the side of his head before continuing hurriedly, “I think I might actually be falling for her!”

Chouji only gaped at him, unblinkingly, for a moment while the chicken strips steamed between them. “Did you have an aneurysm or something?”

“Hey! What's the supposed to mean?” demanded Naruto, affronted.

“You just don't really seem the type to just go and, you know, fall in love like that.”

“Oh, whatever, man! You're only saying that 'cause you watch Shikamaru all happy and engaged and you get lonely.”

Chouji turned and stalked back to his station. “I don't get lonely. Or if I do, I just eat and then I feel fine.”

Naruto sighed melodramatically. “You're living a lie!” However, he honestly felt that he, Naruto, was not. And the beginnings of the feelings he was experiencing were, well, weird, especially since his initial impression of Hinata was not too dissimilar from that.

He grinned to himself. If nothing else, she was very cute. And she did have nice legs, he thought, right before cutting his thumb on a tomato slicer.

---

Lunch by Naruto Uzumaki, Hinata learned firsthand, was amazing. Sitting in his apartment only a seven minute's walk from hers (a location that had made her nervous until only a few minutes after arriving, once he warmly situated her at his tiny dining table to wait), she felt quite pleased.

And she liked watching him cook, she discovered. Even though lunch was only a simple salad and a warm meat and cheese sandwich, he added certain spice blends to give the meal an appealingly exotic taste. And his smile grew more sincere as he cooked, or so it seemed to Hinata. Less outward, more self-focused. And his eyes appeared to darken a little, so that the blue was not reminiscent of the sky so much as the harbor leading to the sea.

The idea hit her like a thunder crash, and while his back was still turned to her , Hinata pulled her miniature sketch pad from her purse and began to hastily draw with a blue-ink pen. Naruto faced her once their sandwiches were both prepared, and, as he brought them to the table, he caught sight of her impromptu project.

“What's that, Hinata?”

She hesitated, as though unsure of whether or not she really wanted to show him. Presently, she angled the sketchpad so that he could view the rough drawing properly, then waited for his assessment.

“Palm trees, awesome! And hey, a waterfall! Where's this, Hinata? Someplace you went to on vacation?”

The notion was almost enough to make her laugh a little, but she held it in. “I-it's Uzumaki's. Well,” she hastened to add when his eyes flew to hers, “if you want it that way. I was thinking you could put in four-person tables here—” She lightly sketched a few boxes in to represents such items. “ —and build a waiting lounge off to the side for people who can't get in right away...”

“It's like a tropical resort right here in the city!”

“That's what I picture. There are so many people who, I think, would like to get away, but the availability just isn't there and—”

And Naruto was looking right at her, so intently Hinata could have sworn she felt the pressure of his gaze on her skin. If she looked in a mirror, she wondered, would she see indentations at the spot where his eyes rested?

She tried to ask about his looking, however, her mouth only formed the word “what” without any sound actually emitting from it.

“You lose that little stutter you do when you talk about your work.” Naruto stated this by way of observation rather than information, his tone even and a little surprised. “You're obviously more confidant.”

Immediately flustered, the Hyuuga woman leaned back in her chair. “Is that so?” She spoke so lowly it was nearly a whisper.

Naruto took her by surprise when his volume also dropped under his breath as he bent over and inched closer to close the distance she had unknowingly created between them. “It's excellent.” And he fastened his lips to hers, the motion as seemingly reasonable and anticipated as salting an unflavored dish. There was nearly the suggestion that neither of them could possibly have expected the occurrence of anything besides this event.

Except that Hinata hadn't expected it, and when she started to slip awkwardly sideways in her chair, Naruto had to brace one hand on her shoulder to keep her from sliding off the chair. “You okay, Hinata?”

Oh, and he was speaking to her now? Now when she couldn't formulate a proper sentence to save her very life? “Y-yes...”

The chef only laughed. “Too soon?” he asked, his blue eyes glimmering. “I guess I just got excited about the restaurant and the fact that you're a genius!”

That stopped her. The word “genius” had always, since her childhood days, been applied to her cousin Neji and never to Hinata; even though Hinata was Hiashi's daughter, even though Hinata's name topped the will for the vast majority of her father's assets.

“I'm not,” she started to say, but Naruto laughed and slipped his arms about her narrow waist. The fingers on one of his hands played absently with the ends of her hair.

“Yes, you are.” He merely stared at her a moment before his eyes widened a fraction and he stepped back. “You're probably hungry too. Here's your lunch. I know it's not that great. Anyway, we can talk about your payment for decorating. Do you go by the hour or by the job? I don't know anything—” Naruto halted his own nervous ramble when Hinata gripped the edge of his sleeve. When he looked back, she was smiling at him, color dusting the bridge of her nose.

“I...” She made to withdraw her hand, but Naruto caught and held it. “I think you're a genius as well, Naruto.”

He grinned. “Not too soon then, huh?” Leaning down to her level, he slid his lips across hers and was only too happy when she reached up to hold him at his back.

Hinata realized two things that day. The first was that Naruto's food was still good even after being microwaved (their sandwiches cooled before they managed to eat them). The second was that she could be far more successful, confidant, and all-around happy if she let herself.

Five months later, when Uzumaki opened its doors, Hinata held up her celebratory glass of wine and clinked it against Naruto's. Her engagement ring gleamed against the glass, and a sea of possibilities was stretched out before her.

The End

[Past Times] [Naruto: NejiTen] "Tainted Ways"

Sun, 28 Oct 2007 22:36:57 GMT

Title: Tainted Ways
Theme: Hunter
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Neji x Tenten
Rating: Teen
Warning: Minor language, some suggestive content.
Summary: Former LAPD cop Neji Hyuuga and his older partner Tenten Long must work together to solve the very case that tore them apart. A fiery romance gone cold threatens their work, however, because neither one can get over the other.

2-Parter: Old Partners; New Lovers

[Past Times] [Naruto: NejiTen] "Venus or Themis"

Sun, 14 Oct 2007 16:05:41 GMT

Author's Notes: Written for 50 Alternates, for the theme "gun."

Venus or Themis

By Nessie

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

[Past Times] [Naruto: SasuSaku] "Young and Brilliant"

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 21:42:18 GMT

Author’s Notes: Written for 50 Alternates. This is a SasuSaku AU that is part of my “society” series of Naruto AUs set in modern-day New York City. The whole universe revolves around the pairings found in my fic “Seasonal Society,” (and then a few more!), which is NejiTen-based. The other story currently existing in this series is “Professional Secrets,” (ShikaTem) and more are in progress. So if you’re interested, keep an eye out!

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and am making no profit from this fan fiction.

Young and Brilliant

By Nessie

Sasuke Uchiha knew he shouldn’t have taken the night off. Parking the car, he didn’t even bother to turn off the ignition before getting out and sprinting through the hospital parking garage and into the main building.

Inside, his pace slowed fractionally as he effortlessly dodged anxious visitors and employees with medicine carts. It two hours into Saturday, and that meant weekend crowds at the city hospitals: gang shooting victims, the wives of abusive, alcoholic businessmen, children hit by dozing taxi drivers. His coal-colored eyes took in every detail until he arrived at the central help desk on the ground floor.

“Yushiro Sarutobi,” he demanded, voice hard and clipped with his expectation for cooperation.

The young man on duty, his nametag labeling him as an intern, afforded him a baffled look from eyes much too wide, a Styrofoam cup of coffee halfway to his lips.

“The mayor of New York City,” Sasuke furthered, practically growling the words.

“I know who it is,” snapped the intern. Temper subsiding, he went on in a lower tone, “Who are you? The mayor’s information is classified. No one’s supposed to know he’s even here.”

Sasuke took three seconds to reconstruct his rapidly-dissolving patience, though he would have much preferred to strangle the intern and go on to find a competent employee with a willingness to assist him. Instead, “I’m his chief of security,” he bit out.

The intern looked at him suspiciously; no doubt sure he was doing his town a favor by using caution with this dark-haired, dark-eyed man. The Uchiha began to reconsider his earlier decision, his fingers starting to itch.

“He’s in examination,” the intern said at last. “But he’ll be in room 805, top floor. You should ask for Doctor—”

Sasuke tore off through the throng without waiting to listen. He already knew who he needed.

Upon arriving on the eighth floor – after one excruciating elevator ride that left him entirely too alone with his thoughts – Sasuke scanned the less bustling corridor for anyone with wrinkles. He caught the gaze of a gray-bearded custodian – perfect. Striding purposefully over, he pulled a crisp bill from the pocket inside the leather jacket he wore.

“Mayor Sarutobi,” he intoned quietly to the older man. “What’s his condition?”

The custodian took a careful glance around before quietly replying, “He ingested mercury somehow.” Not seeing the way Sasuke’s free hand tightened into a fist, he eyed the hand that held the money. “They’ve pumped his stomach, but it’ll be a problem if it bonds to his bloodstream. Gonna take work, gonna have to happen quick.”

“Thank you,” Sasuke said curtly before leaving him with his mop and his extra cash. He knew the ropes; find the older ones; they knew what was going on. If it was a janitor, even better. They had nothing to do but listen. As he headed toward the eastern wing, he drew his cell phone from a pocket in his jeans like a knight drew a sword from the sheath.

He dialed. As soon as the evenly spaced beeping ended and was replaced by a lazy greeting (“Hellooo?), Sasuke knew this evening would rely on the questionable sobriety of his contact.

“Tsunade.”

“Hmm?” came the thick but decidedly female response. “Is this Sasuke?”

“Yes.”

“Sasuke, you know, I’ve always wondered how you have the shitty gall to call me just ‘Tsunade.’ I’ve got a PhD, you know!”

The security chief determined Tsunade was indeed intoxicated but probably still serviceable. “Tsunade, I need you to stop drinking and come save the mayor’s life.”

Tsunade apparently had no trouble understanding him through her drunken haze. There was a short but incredibly tense pause, in which Sasuke bothered to think how odd it was that the best doctor in the city of New York was, behind closed doors, a perfect candidate for hosting a panel at an AA convention. “Are you at Manhattan General?”

“Yes.”

“Is it critical?”

“Yes.”

“Will he die without me and then you’d be screwed, career-wise?”

Another pause, this time from Sasuke. “Yes.”

“Can’t help you.”

His temper lit like paper catching fire, and with her, he didn’t bother to disguise it. “Why not? Goddamn it, Tsunade—”

“I know I told said you could always come to me, Sasuke, and don’t think I regret helping you that time you got shot.” Her tone was calm, professional, but tinged with sternness. “But I’m officially retired. Fifty-three is too old for saving Republicans – Democrats too.”

Sasuke had the rising urge to throw his fist at the closest wall and see the plaster cave in. He wanted to call her on the fact that he knew her to be fifty-five. Threats came to his mind, ways he had played before. He could tell the media about her refusal of help, tell about the years-long affair Tsunade was still in with a frisky ex-Marine named Jiraiya. Before any of this could be voiced, however, his conversation partner spoke up.

“Of course, there’s no reason why you can’t have my protégée.”

Sasuke’s whole mind narrowed to that last word. “Protégée?”

“I believe in the passing on of knowledge, Sasuke.” There was a touch of amusement in Tsunade’s voice now. “Actually, since you’re at Manhattan General, she has most likely been assigned to the case already.”

“I’m done talking.” The idea of a “new Tsunade” had restored both his hope and his taciturn behavior. “Just tell me who it is.”

“A very young, very brilliant surgeon. She flew through her schooling so fast and so well that Manhattan General pretty much gobbled her up, and I instructed her personally; Doctor Sakura Haruno.” Tsunade hurried to add, “By the way, Sasuke, you really know how to sober a lady. Now I’ll have to start all over.”

Sasuke flipped his phone shut, knowing Tsunade would be as satisfied with the last word as she would with a goodbye, and rushed toward room 805.

---

The room was found empty. He was informed by a nurse he passed that Mayor Sarutobi was already in surgery. Sasuke felt his body tighten muscle by muscle until he was so coiled he might have detected each individual nerve. He disliked this state of knowing things last. He wanted to meet the doctor operating on his charge, concerned by the idea of her being “very young,” as Tsunade had mentioned. His worry might have been hypocritical, or, at the very least, misplaced – he had only recently turned twenty-six himself and was heading the team for the mayor of New York’s security.

And look what happened, he thought bitterly. As soon as he got his hands on Suigetsu, his replacement for the evening…

The thought was left unfinished when he was approached by a slender, black-haired woman wearing a white coat and a frown. “Mr. Uchiha?” she queried.

Sasuke stepped away from the wall he’d been leaning against and unfolded his arms to face her. “Are you Sakura Haruno?”

“No, sir, I’m Shizune, Doctor Haruno’s aid. I was in the operating room when Tsunade removed that bullet from your lung – four years ago, wasn’t it?” When he didn’t respond, Shizune sighed. “I’m here to tell you Mayor Sarutobi is still in surgery. He’s survived the last hour. If he survives three more, Doctor Haruno predicts he will be past the critical stage. Do you have any idea how the mayor got mercury into his system?”

Sasuke told her he knew nothing, keeping his expression neutral. The same question was slowly driving him mad. Judging from the time Suigetsu had phoned and informed him of Sarutobi’s hospitalization, it would have had to have been during dinner; exactly eight o’ clock. Sarutobi was meticulous about taking his meals at a uniform time.

“If Doctor Haruno is able to remove the mercury from his body, she may be able to deduce the method on her own,” Shizune said. “Why don’t you wait in the lobby? There’s coffee, and you’ll be more comfortable.”

How the woman could have fathomed comfort was of any significance to him now, Sasuke did not know. It wasn’t until Shizune promised to immediately inform him of any fresh news that he did as she urged.

The next three hours consisted of phone calls made between copious amounts of black coffee. He went so far as to call Asuma Sarutobi, the mayor’s only child and captain of the NYPD investigation unit, both to inform him of his father’s condition and to ask if there were any case files involving a similar occurrence. Captain Sarutobi promised to take a look, expressing curiously little concern for the mayor. Weirdly enough, the high-ranking officer actually asked after Sarutobi’s secretary, who was fine, instead.

The night continued at what seemed a grueling pace. Occasionally, Shizune would come out to offer him theories but no concrete reasons for how the mayor had been so strangely poisoned. Doctor Haruno remained unseen, never stepping a foot out of the operating room.

At last, nearly fifteen minutes after the initial three hours had ended, Shizune returned for what Sasuke counted as the seventh time. The aid managed to look bleary and focused simultaneously. Sasuke glanced at a wall clock and saw the time going on five A.M., noting that the former assistant to Tsunade had taken in far less caffeine than he had.

“Well, Mr. Uchiha, I’m pleased to tell you that the mayor is out of surgery and is now resting in his room. He should heal nicely.” Shizune’s face hosted an expression of triumph.

Cool relief pervaded Sasuke. “So the operation was fairly simple then.”

Shizune’s eyes widened. “No, Mr. Uchiha, not at all. It’s just that Doctor Haruno is…excuse me, it’s too early for me to think of a more fitting word…she’s just that good. She has asked to meet with you,” she continued, “to convey a few things. If you’ll come with me?” At his nod, she guided him out of the waiting room.

He followed, weaving through a labyrinth of wings and alcoves until they reached an office with the label Sakura Haruno, PhD on the open door.

“Sakura,” Shizune announced as they walked in, “this is Mr. Uchiha, Mayor Sarutobi’s chief of security.”

Sasuke saw her standing at an enormous window running all along the eastern wall. A flash of short pink hair stood out over the white collar of a coat identical to Shizune’s. She turned at the introduction and, like a blow to the gut, he was winded by eyes the color of sea waves at night.

Not the color, he realized, so much as everything within the eyes had him inwardly careening. She wasn’t smiling, but there was exhilaration in the green; utmost joy at having rescued an important man from a horrible death. Sasuke was sure he hadn’t seen such a thriving spirit in years.

“Mr. Uchiha, thank you for coming.” He voice was unmistakably tired but still strong from her victory. “I imagine it’s been a difficult night for you.”

As she moved closer, he caught a scent; freshly cut flowers overlaid with sweat. “I doubt it was more difficult than yours,” he conceded, revealing nothing in face or tone. “How did you manage to get the mercury out?”

Sakura did smile then, a tad of self-accomplishment. “Would you like to see?”

Shizune left them, and Sasuke followed the doctor – who was, he noted from a few paces behind her, perfect in figure – to another section of the floor.

“I tend to hand this over to the police,” she said as they came to a locked cabinet, and she produced a key. “It was frustrating how much there was. But we reduced the mercury to a harmless amount.”

Sasuke watched as she produced from the cabinet a 32-ounce Ziploc bag, filled with silver, shifting mercury. There were bubbles of ruby-like droplets floating within – traces of the mayor’s blood that hadn’t been filtered out.

“The crucial point was keeping the mercury from reaching his aorta,” Sakura informed him. “What we did was open the flesh over his heart and gathered mercury as it traveled. The procedure itself demanded care, but the greatest worry was the mayor’s age.” Tucking the bag back into the cabinet, Sakura turned to him. His gaze was right on her, and he saw her set her eyes on an indirect point, then another – anything but him. “He isn’t exactly young, so survivability was a question. But he has a very strong will, so—”

“It’s amazing.”

Sakura blinked at the interruption. “Yes,” she agreed, unbalanced by the sudden comment. “He did very well.”

Sasuke had hardly been aware of saying anything, but he had been referring to her. Yet he didn’t bother to correct her assumption. Falling back into silence, he allowed her to lead him to the mayor’s room. A Plexiglas window looked in – he would have to order the blinds be drawn to stave off any early publicity. But he watched the old man, void of his usual suit and tie, sleeping undisturbed and lulled by the rhythm of beeping monitors.

“There’s another thing I should tell you about,” began Sakura, unbutton her coat as she spoke. “We discovered that the mayor’s alcohol level was high enough for him to be decently inebriated at the time of consumption.”

A bell went off in his mind. “He has a brandy every night with his meal. We only check the bottles once, just after they’re opened,” Sasuke told her at once, “but only the security and household staff know about that.”

“We all have our vices, Mr. Uchiha.”

“Sasuke,” he said quickly, resenting the proper address. He felt ridiculous being treated so politely by someone so close to his age. His voice was not as sharp this time, however.

For just a moment, her eyes softened. “Sakura,” she returned.

But then the moment was gone as naturally as it had come, and the two resumed their rightful places – he cool detachment, she firm professionalism.

Sasuke noticed, then, that she had stripped off her medical coat. Underneath she wore a scarlet blouse that could have used ironing and a plain black skirt that fell to just above her knees. Her shoes were sensible flats. And she was no longer a doctor.

“Are you on break?” he asked without thinking.

She nodded wearily. “Finally,” she replied on a half-laugh, lifting a hand to massage her drooping eyelids.

“Would you have breakfast with me?”

Sakura stopped rubbing her eyes in order to stare at him. Sasuke wondered what the hell he was doing – first he’d noticed her eyes, then her scent, then her body (in that order, oddly enough) and had progressed to breakfast in less than fifteen minutes. He couldn’t even remember actively asking a woman out in the last five years, and now he was doing it at possibly the most inappropriate time.

Sakura recovered from the obvious surprise and gave a tentative, regretful smile. “To be honest, I don’t really—”

His cell phone went off, saving him from what was sure to be a gentle and humiliating rejection. Sasuke felt briefly relieved and picked up. “Suigetsu,” he snapped, remembering who exactly had replaced him during this mishap.

“Sasuke, I found that damn little mercury shit. It was a pitiful Republican psycho, on the staff, switched out the old man’s brandy. Trying to help out his party for the next election. Chem major or something. Sarutobi’s son came and went with the bastard.”

Crude as ever, Sasuke observed, but liked him a little more for his energy. “Any message for Sarutobi?”

“Damn it, what do you think?”

No. The two had, after all, been more or less estranged since before either Sasuke or Suigetsu had started working with either of them. “Call the captain and tell him—” He flicked a glance at Sakura, who was trying to look like she wasn’t listening to his end of the call. “Tell him Doctor Sakura Haruno saved his father’s life.”

“Yes, sir,” agreed Suigetsu, and Sasuke terminated the call. He turned to Sakura before she could say anything, deciding the best course of action would be to pretend he had never strayed from his usual lack of involvement. “If you’re as good as Tsunade told me you are, then I suspect you’ll be offered government employ soon, Sakura.” Saying her name was more enjoyable than he’d expected.

Sakura’s cheeks went slightly pink, a thing he couldn’t help but find charming, if inconveniently distracting. “I’ve already been approached about it, actually.”

His response came in a monotone. “Congratulations.” He needed to get to the hospital security office. He had instructions to give and press to subdue. Focus was what he required, not a damnably attractive female surgeon. Spinning on his heel, Sasuke continued on without a goodbye, sure she was ready for the awkwardness to end as much as he was.

“Wait, Sasuke!”

And hearing his name coming from her was even more enjoyable than the reverse. Damn it.

She caught up and was smiling. “I was going to say I really don’t eat breakfast. My schedule’s a little too uncertain for it.” Her eyes gleamed as he looked down in piqued interest. “But I go to the gym two blocks down every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday.”

They parted so he could get back to his job and she could get some needed rest. The coming day was sure to be as difficult as the night had been for Sasuke. Going over things to take care of in his mind, he entered the nearest elevator and headed down.

But he paused to consider that he could stand a workout or three next week. He didn’t even notice it when his lips quirked up in an anticipatory smirk, feeling young and brilliant himself.

The End

[Naruto, NejiTen Ficlet] "Love To A Weapons Mistress"

Sat, 25 Aug 2007 23:16:03 GMT

Title: Love To A Weapons Mistress
Author: NessieGG
Theme: Drifting
Genre: Romance/Introspection
Pairing: NejiTen
Dedication: To blooming_cosmo on her birthday. ^_^

Tenten would like to say that Hyuuga Neji and the feelings he holds for her is the reason she is able to fly.

They train at sunset, and the light dazzles in white-gold beams through parts in the forest canopy, gleaming off his hitai-ate and tangling in the loose ends of her hair. He fights, for once, with a weapon, a scythe – practice for the unlikely event that his chakra should run low during live combat – while she counters him with an invention that appears to be little more than a dozen kunai on a line of wire. To the unaware, it is a primitive tool.

In Tenten’s hands, it is deadly and certain to be the cause of many enemy deaths should she ever need to use projectiles and trapping equipment to make a close-range weapon. Neji’s Byakugan is activated, but the tense veins around his eyes tighten further as his focus sharpens. Genius or not, he is at a disadvantage here.

The concept is not altogether unlike how Tenten thinks of their relationship. In the world of emotions, she feels as unskilled and without technique as Neji does using a weapon other than his hands. Neji, though not raised in a bright and affectionate environment, has far more comfort in his position as her lover than Tenten did in her position as his. She knows this, does not bother to deny it.

It is the very opposite of what most of those who knew them would expect. She knows she is not detached the way her teammate is often perceived to be, rather, she believes herself a far warmer person by nature. People and interaction with them has always come easily to her.

As they spar, a fine sheen of sweat makes Neji’s body glow, and Tenten wonders if that is what he sees on her each day. A glow of determination.

So why, why does she construct a wall as soon as Neji begins to look at her more softly, as soon as his touches are no longer necessary contact points but caresses? He has never shied from her, never frozen in his appreciation of her – unlike Tenten, who has on more than a few occasions asked him to let her step back and slow down.

She flies when supported by him as a shinobi on her team – she can handle him most effectively when she thinks of him that way. But as soon as the day is done and their professionalism slips (and there had been a time when Tenten believed his never would), Tenten finds herself not grounded, but floating aimlessly, like a bird whose wings are wet and cannot soar. Neji keeps her drifting, unsteady, carried by a pulsing inner sea.

She wraps her line of kunai around her arm, all points aimed outward, as Neji runs at her with the scythe. His hair waves behind him like a dark flag, signaling the onslaught of power. His muscles are technically stronger than hers, but when used in this manner, hers are the better.

She loves him, yes, so much so that even in her state of disrupted flight, she cannot bear to let him go. There are moments she feels she must have those looks and touches or she will wing straight into the sun and burn. Other times she fears he’ll be too much for her and let her drown. Simply, love terrifies her.

Fortunately, Hyuuga Neji is far too brave and far too stubborn to not see both of them through that terror, ironic as the situation is. The taciturn man keeps the cheery woman upright. It’s almost frustrating enough to be embarrassing.

She knocks him flat with the sheer force of the wire, pressing with such perfect accuracy against the center of his hitae-ate to force him to lose balance. The kunai points merely graze him, and he lands on his back with the scythe turned outward. There are holes in his shirt, and he wastes no time in pulling off the ruined and thus-useless garment and tossing it away. A pleasingly toned torso is revealed, but Tenten smirks because he is panting – well, maybe because of the torso, too.

Of course, Neji would never be ashamed of her, either.

“Obviously, this isn’t my style,” he grits out, leaving the scythe on the ground as he gets to his feet.

Tenten doesn’t resist a grin. “Well, that’s too bad. What will you do if you use up all your chakra, Neji?”

And truly, that makes all the difference.

The Hyuuga stares into her with eyes of no color. Warmth not caused by exertion fills her from head to toe. “It seems I will have to rely on you, Tenten.”

The simple fact that he is willing to stake it all on her – his life, his love, the happiness he has come so close to never having – it is boggling, but it exhilarates her even as it makes her doubt herself with fear.

She lets go of the kunai-strung wire as he walks toward her, his pace suggesting something that isn’t a fight. It falls into a coil of danger near her feet. Neji brings a hand up to cup the base of her head and make her lift her eyes to his.

“Can I do that?” he asks softly.

Perhaps it isn’t so bad to be drifting, to have time to think and worry and realize. Maybe it really is time to depend on Neji as well.

Neji lowers his face to hers, his lips hovering just over her mouth. After several heart-racing seconds, it is Tenten who closes the distance between them. She finds she loves the way his pulse speeds under the fingers she holds to his neck.

“Of course,” she whispers after they part.

And he does.

So does Tenten. And that is love to her.

The End