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Break to Breathe	By : Okami-Rayne Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Shikamaru/Neji Views: 1958 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: NARUTO and its respective characters were created and are owned by Masashi Kishimoto. No copyright infringement intended. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 45
- 46
- 47
BREAK TO BREATHE

by Okami Rayne

Chapter Forty Six

[Dedicated to I'll Be Your Lie]

"What is "strong" Hyūga blood, father?"
"Blood is water in our clan."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Hold still. Who did this to you?"
"Hitaro-sama said I must protect the Main House."
"Why did he strike you?"
"Because I said I would protect you first."
"…You must not say those things to the elders, Neji. Don't say them at all."
"But you said to tell the truth."
"Some truths you may feel, but you must never say."
"Can I think it?"
"It does not matter what we think. What matters is what we 'do'."
Neji blinked, his mind slamming a door on the memory.
The world began drifting back, or maybe he drifted back, back from the past as if waking from a dream. Reality made itself known in fleeting wisps. The growl of the storm…a strobe flash of lightning…the scent of wood and earth…a pained shiver of breathing…the watery fingers of rain reflecting and dragging against torn skin…
Slowly, through the sheen of his unfocused eyes, impressions began to gain definition.
In the darkness, Shikamaru's blood looked black.
Surreal, but it seeped like ink from the wound, almost as if the shadows were bleeding out of him instead. A trail of it glistened with every jerky rise and fall of his chest.
Neji stared, wide-eyed and unable to move.
He felt gripped by a chill that seemed to have cemented every muscle. The red mist had completely left his mind, leaving him with a sudden clarity of thought he didn't want to face. He'd responded by retreating to a memory, to a place and time removed from the present one that lay shattered by his own hands.
But there was no escaping it now.
His eyes traced Shikamaru's ribs.
Fix it.
The command came from some part of his brain that hadn't been numbed by the shock that was swiftly wearing off.
Fix what you have broken.
This, he understood. This, he knew.
This, he could do.

It was a long process, executed with a patience and tenderness of touch that made it difficult to believe that Neji had been the one to cause the damage in the first place.
He was meticulous.
No part of Shikamaru's skin was left untouched.
The Hyūga cleansed him with painstaking focus, like an archaeologist following every contour of what he was restoring with absolute attention to detail. But it was the unseen that concerned the Jōnin more than what was above the surface.
Setting aside the flannels, salves and medicinal ointments, the Hyūga sat back on his knees, closed his eyes and raised two shaking fingers in a seal, holding the digits a scant inch from his lips.
"Byakugan!"
The pain felt like a detonation in his skull, his depleted chakra screaming against the exertion. Neji pushed through it, his jaw tightening as he struggled to hold his focus.
I 'will' hold it.
He snapped his eyes open, the eerily defined pupils shrinking and swelling as he struggled to maintain the dōjutsu. A quick flick of his gaze over Shikamaru's body determined the fractured ribs. Three. Another brief scan confirmed his lungs were not inflamed or pierced. The third sweep of his gaze encompassed all the vital organs. Clear, healthy, strong.
Neji lingered on the Nara's heart, watching the muscle beat.
Then the veins around his pale eyes shrank and smoothed out, the white orbs pinching in a flinch of pain. Ignoring it, Neji set about taping gauze across the gash on Shikamaru's ribs. To use a compression wrap on the broken bones would only heighten the risk of pneumonia. Ensuring that Shikamaru breathed properly was essential.
Breathe…
The irony was bitter.
By the time Neji finished with the other cuts and blackening bruises, the distant rumble of thunder had long given way to something low and soft, the lightning fading to gentle flickers beneath the surrendering sky.
The rain had stopped.
It left behind a charged, heavy silence, like time was holding its breath.
Neji leaned back, his gaze straying over the unconscious body beneath him, scanning for anything more to fix. He found himself looking in the most unlikely and insignificant of places, turning Shikamaru's hands over to check his palms, almost wanting to find something more just to keep from facing the situation in a new light.
All he found were the creases in the shadow-nin's skin.
Destiny…
Maybe if he looked close enough, he'd have found himself written in the lines of the Nara's hands. He had no fondness for palmistry, though Tenten had managed to commendably dupe him into getting his palms read once; the idea of a future encoded and determined in skin had only exacerbated his once fatalistic philosophy.
Did fate play us for fools, Shikamaru? Maybe you were always under my skin.
Under his skin, in his veins, his in blood…it was madness.
But he couldn't deny it.
Neji brushed his thumbs across Shikamaru's lifelines, then turned the Nara's palms over and examined the scraped knuckles. Then he very calmly set the limp hands down and stared at the bruises ringing the wrists like purple cuffs.
He knew Shikamaru's throat was in a worse state.
So he didn't raise his eyes.
He closed them instead, bowing to press the cool steel of his hitai-ate against Shikamaru's stomach. For a long moment he remained tensed against the onslaught inside him, muscles clenched tight before the strained, polished veneer of his expression broke.
His lips parted.
Don't say it…
His throat clenched.
"Some truths you may feel, but you must never say."
Neji crushed his words and shuddered out a choked breath into the safety of the silence, stroking his palms along Shikamaru's skin; up and down in gentle sweeps that settled at the crooks of the Nara's arms. He gripped gently, holding on even as he began to pull himself away, blinking back the burn in his eyes.
He didn't have time to set his feet on the ground or even get a mental toehold.
A door smacked shut down the hallway.
Neji froze.
The tears clung to his lashes as if crystallised.
Voices carried from the threshold, a woman's lilting in indignant confusion before a male cut her off abruptly.
The stunned silence lasted no more than a heartbeat.
"Shikamaru?"
The instant the woman cried out, Neji bolted – but he wasn't the only one.
"Shikaku!"
By the time a shadow was racing down the hallway, Neji was already out the window.

There was no direction.
Neji could have been heading one way in his head and another in his body and it wouldn't have mattered. Anywhere was better than where he'd been, even though he had no idea where he was going. It didn't occur to him to consult an inner compass or even attempt to slow down.
He just ran.
Don't stop.
He tore through the forest, moving like hell was at his heels.
Moonlight peeked through the heavy mantle of the clouds, but whatever illumination it provided was meagre and meaningless. Neji could barely see through the sheen in his eyes. But given that he had no destination, it didn't matter if he was moving blind.
The world was nothing but a watery wash of grey and shadow. And just like moving through water, he felt his steps dragging, barely getting grip on the treacherous carpet of wet leaves and gelatinous earth.
When he'd been chasing Shikamaru, it hadn't been this difficult to move.
But suddenly, it was like he was being pulled under.
Don't stop.
The bark of deer calls pierced the cold, wet air like shuriken – sharp and shrill.
Neji swerved to avoid two dashing does and tore up along an incline, the roped muscles of his thighs working to push him faster, further.
A stag burst out of the black.
Neji skidded on the slick earth, veering hard to avoid the charging animal.
The mass of rippling muscle and scything antlers crashed to a halt and turned, haunches quivering with devastating power. Unlike Neji, the stag found traction on unstable ground and it reared, boxing the air, streams of vapour billowing from its nostrils like smoke.
Neji ducked under the thrashing hooves.
The young buck turned, almost fencing the Jōnin in with it's antlers as its legs crashed down, stamping violently. The huge, dark eyes rolled and a raucous bark exploded from its throat, head swaying, its bandaged neck rippling as it bellowed its fury.
Don't stop.
Neji sprung, avoided a skewering and kicked off a tree, vaulting over the stag's back to lunge back up along the incline, barely escaping the natural traps of roots and fallen branches. Reaching high, he gripped a low hanging bough and swung himself up and over the other side of the slope to hit the ground running.
The twinge at his temples was so instinctive he didn't fight it.
"Byakugan!"
The pain flared then dulled to a throb.
He kept his feet moving, the icy air sloughing in and out of his lungs as he wove between the trees, propelled forwards when the world expanded in monochrome clarity. The forest grew rugged and wilder as he pressed deeper into its embrace.
Don't stop.
In some isolated section of his mind, he knew he was going the wrong way.
Did I lose my direction when you found me?
A ludicrous thought.
But not a lie…
Neji tried to blink the sheen from his eyes, only to have them round in shock when his vision reached ahead of his running feet. His focus locked onto the figure standing further along the trail. His heart lurched and his feet staggered to a broken stop in the middle of a clearing, the leaves and foliage glistening around him like a mirage.
But it wasn't the water on the leaves that distorted his vision; it was the water in his eyes.
Like liquid moonstone, his tear-struck orbs stared ahead numbly.
The veins of the Byakugan faded and he stood motionless, panting raggedly.
Around him, the wood became a rustle of leaves in the wind, a swell and shrink of sound made chilling by the haunting cry of deer calls on the breeze. Surreal, poignant…like a dream…
"Hyūga Neji."
Neji started at the sound of his name.
The syllables rolled out in a smoky tone that was almost familiar; but the voice was hoarser around the edges, deeper with a hint of rust.
Older.
Neji focused on the echo of his name, staring unseeingly at the shape that resolved itself from the soupy black between the trees.
With an utter absence of movement, Shikaku appeared.
It was like the darkness shrank back to reveal him, he didn't even have to move. It would have been an eerie and disturbing thing to witness, but Neji could barely distinguish anything past the moist burn in his eyes.
He just couldn't blink it back.
Not even his pride came to his defence.
He swallowed hard, trying to push down the fist of crushed emotion in his throat, trying to clear it enough to respond, react – something. But his mental commands shortened out en route and then seemed to stop computing all together.
There was no thought, just feeling.
Feeing that ripped him up one side and down the other.
A choked sound hitched behind the clench of his teeth.
I can't hold this…Gods please not here…not like this…
He was oblivious to Shikaku's gaze, to the way the sharp, lethal cut of the Nara's eyes pinched then softened marginally. The edge never left the Jōnin Commander's expression, but it took on a different cast in the darkness.
"You attacked my son."
Neji clenched his eyes shut.
He didn't hear the distant calls in the forest, or sense the deer shifting uneasily around them; he was too busy trying to hold onto whatever dignity was being torn away from him. Trying desperately to conceal what he could no longer contain.
He knew if he opened his eyes, there would be no hiding what stood in them.
And if Shikamaru had read him so well when he was guarded, then what the hell would the shadow-nin's father be able to see when he was without any defence?
God…not like this…
The squelch of mud and leaves alerted him to movement.
Neji made to snap open his wet lashes, but Shikaku was faster.
Before Neji had a chance to open his eyes, the Nara's forearm pressed across his closed and stinging orbs.
With a sharp intake of breath, Neji went deadly still.
But Shikaku made no other move. He simply stood sideways, holding his arm like a makeshift blindfold across the young Jōnin's eyes, blocking the evidence of a wound Neji was trying so desperately to hide.
Without cause, Shikaku offered a defence.
Neji's brow furrowed in confusion, his throat tight and locked.
For a long moment, neither of them moved, even the deer haloing the clearing grew still and solemn. Then after a stretch of pained silence, Neji felt the salty, damp fabric of Shikaku's sleeve shift a little against his eyes as the Nara drew a deep breath, releasing it in a slow, soft sigh.
"You're going to turn around and you're going to follow the stag out of our forest," Shikaku said, the grit in his voice drawing like sandpaper across Neji's nerves. "And you won't ever set foot here or in my home again. Nod to tell me you understand."
Neji nodded fractionally.
He heard Shikaku hum. "Get going."
Then the pressure against his eyes was gone.
He didn't hear Shikaku leave, but he sensed it.
Stunned and shaken, Neji held himself rigid, as if locked in a shadow possession. He knew he wasn't; which didn't explain why he wasn't. Shikaku should have ripped into him when his guard was down, not offered him an exit.
Go. Take it and go.
The soft billow of breath against his head prompted him to turn.
When he lifted his lashes, he found the deep, soulful eyes of the Nara's finest stag gazing back at him. An impressive, handsome animal that stared with a kind of ageless knowing that rattled Neji as much as any stare he'd received from Shikamaru. But then the memory of what he'd seen in the Nara's face a few hours before came back to him.
Neji clamped his eyes shut.
The stag's ears pressed forward attentively, its large eyes soft and steady.
Neji felt a nudge to his brow.
Then Rikumaru snorted softly, misting the steel of the Hyūga's hitai-ate in a single breath. The gesture from this animal was so hauntingly familiar it pulled Neji from his paralysis.
His feet moved, slowly, but steadily.
And if his mind hadn't raced back to the place he'd run from, it might have occurred to him how strange it was that the stag leading him from the forest was walking beside him rather than ahead.

Darkness rippled and shifted against his eyelids, breaking up into patches.
His lashes flickered, catching a glimmer of light.
Light…green light…
Green light? What the—FUCK!
Shikamaru flinched with a hiss, consciousness gripping him like a fist as the pain of shifting bone and knitting skin briefly pulled him from the black. A palm pressed against his brow, setting his head back.
"Sssh. It's alright."
It really wasn't alright.
Shikamaru wanted to sarcastically announce the fact but his throat wouldn't cooperate. It hurt like hell. He fought for a stronger thread of consciousness, searching the void in his mind for that throb of green light. Unable to find it, he tried to work his throat. The pain immediately yanked his brain into awareness.
Shit…
He swallowed hard.
Hands cupped his neck gently.
On reflex, his jaw tugged up as he tried to jerk away from the touch. A weak groan rode up his bruised throat.
"Ssh."
"How bad?" His father's voice.
Panic slammed into his heart, knocking it off rhythm.
Fuck…where's Neji…?
"I've set his ribs…" He had no idea who the hell that was.
Medic…?
The heavy floating feeling of induced sleep dragged at his senses.
Shit…stay awake…
"…given him something to help…rest and deep breathing…the bruises on his throat should fade within the next…cleaned him up before I did…"
"…vanish into the night like…happen in our village?"
"…calm down, Yoshino…"
"…dare tell me to calm down, Shikaku!"
Shikamaru winced at the volume of his mother's voice, suddenly wondering if slipping into the black wasn't such a bad idea.
"…shinobi, you know that."
"…if he's on a mission, but not in his own home!"
Then the rise and fall of voices started lilting in and out of his head. But stronger than the voices surrounding him was the one swirling in his mind, rising up even as he felt himself slipping under.
"You break me apart…but you're all I can breathe…"
He couldn't help but wonder whether that made them even. And if it did, then why the hell did it feel like neither of them had won? In the last moments before his mind shut down, he already knew the answer – and the fact that he was still breathing told him Neji knew it too.
It was never a game…

When Shikamaru woke hours later, the sandy glow across his eyelids told him the day had rolled in and rolled on into late afternoon. A groggy, disconnected kind of pain registered in his side, uncomfortable as hell but bearable enough to move.
He tried to sit up and reconsidered the wisdom in his assessment.
Shit.
He took a moment to let his body catch up with his brain.
Okay, time to move.
Wincing, he gingerly shifted his elbows beneath him and squirmed up a little, twisting his body by degrees to test the leeway he had. He felt like he'd been hit by a charging buck and his ribs had met with the business end of its antlers.
Not a bad comparison…
Although, getting gouged would probably be less painful than what he intended to do now; or at least as soon as he creatively wormed his way into his clothes and flak jacket while attempting to leave the house undetected.
Troublesome.
Carefully lifting his feet from the bed, the shadow-nin cupped his injured side, swivelled, and perched on the edge of the mattress, staring through his lashes across his room. His eyes followed the cobweb cracks surrounding the narrow hole in the wall. The dent that Neji's knife-palm had created was slim but deep, flakes of chipped plaster still peppering the floor.
Shikamaru's skin prickled at the memory.
The Hyūga had come at him like a machine, cold-bloodedly intent on one outcome. An outcome Shikamaru hadn't ruled out despite everything inside him having focused on reaching past the Hyūga's rage to what was fuelling it.
So close…
He touched the gauze across his ribs, eyes pinching at the bite of pain.
Or maybe it was the pain behind his ribs.
God, they'd nearly been the death of each other in so many ways. And in such an insignificant amount of time so much had been dredged up from both their pasts, making for a future that was horribly unclear.
Better start cleaning up…
Drawing a slow breath, Shikamaru swallowed past the ache in his throat, set his focus on the door and finally got his feet beneath him.

"Send me."
"You just got back."
Neji kept his gaze a fraction away from direct eye contact, focusing on the centre of the Godaime's brow. He took her statement as the blunt observation that it was and offered no reply, waiting instead.
He'd resurrected his calm, controlled mien and while his clean Hyūga robes hung a little loosely over his carved frame and the shadows clung a little too sharply to his narrowed features, he projected the same strength and quiet power he always had.
It was only the bruising along his jaw that invited questions; questions that Tsunade wasn't asking.
For that at least, he was grateful.
"Even if you're recovered, it's a questionable request." Tsunade leaned forward in her high-backed chair and the small diamond marking her forehead shrank into the sharp furrow of her brow. "Why send a Jōnin to do an envoy's job?"
"Trust is still tentative, Hokage-sama. A familiar face will go a long way in helping to strengthen ties between the villages."
"I can't argue with that logic, but I could always send one of the Chūnin who accompanied you."
"That's why this is a request," Neji said quietly, his gaze briefly hitting on Tsunade's amber eyes, which scrutinised him calmly behind her laced fingers.
Tsunade hummed, narrowing her eyes in consideration. "Well, considering a tough request is always easier than giving a tough order."
Neji tensed inwardly, but merely cocked his head in a nonverbal sign of query.
"Don't play the dumb card with me," Tsunade's lip quirked behind her fingers, but there was no amusement in her eyes. "Shikamaru was following orders."
If Neji hadn't known that was a lie, he might have reacted. As it was, he simply stared at her quietly, without a word or outward sign to show he'd even registered what she'd said.
Tsunade arched a brow. "My orders. You want to question them, Hyūga?"
"No, Hokage-sama."
"Of course you do," Tsunade countered, raising her chin to rest atop her wrist. "But the question now is whether or not you're stable enough to be exempt from a psychological evaluation. What do you think?"
The question crashed into his pride, denting it hard enough to almost crack the steel in his expression. "If you order it, it does not matter what I think."
"You're an excellent shinobi, Hyūga. It's dangerous for Konoha to have excellent shinobi on the edge. Just look at what happened with Sasuke."
Neji's chin raised a notch, the line of his jaw hardening. "I'm not Uchiha."
"No, but you're just as lethal, aren't you?" Tsunade muttered, more to herself. "So that leaves me wondering whether I should take a gamble on you like Shikamaru did, or take the safest bet which is to get you checked out."
Or checked in.
Checked into another cage, with another group of people trying to pull his mind apart and find the design that had driven him to desperately chase a freedom he couldn't hope to hold. At the cost of his life. But then, it's not like the Black Ops was any saner a choice. Maybe living on the psychological edge only counted when they'd officially tattooed ANBU into your skin.
But walking a fine mental line wasn't Neji's objective, even if ANBU was.
Neji shook his head, the soft swish of his bangs brushing the purple bruising along his jaw. "If I was ever on the edge, I'm past the stage of being pushed off it."
Tsunade's frown turned her amber eyes a shade darker, but the suspicion in her eyes was tempered by a curiosity and softened by something Neji couldn't quite place.
"Are you?" she murmured. "How can you know for sure?"
Neji lowered his gaze, tension rippling through his upper torso as he considered how dangerous the honest response to that would be. But then, he'd stomached enough lies and choked back enough truths to leave him weary with the weight of carrying it around like rocks in his gut.
Gods, I'm so tired…
"I know you are…"
The memory of Shikamaru's quiet words tugged one of the rocks in his gut up into his throat, forcing him to draw a sharp breath through his nose.
Tsunade watched him quietly for a moment.
"How can I know for sure that you're past the stage of being pushed off that edge, Hyūga?"
Neji worked his throat, but rather than crush the truth, he spoke it. He raised his eyes, his voice hoarse and hushed in the quiet of the room.
"Because he pulled me back."

Well, if that didn't kill me…this just might.
Shikamaru shook his head, tugging the fabric of his turtleneck as high as he could along the black and blue column of his throat. As he did this, he wondered if he hadn't been a little ambitious in thinking his luck would hold out. He was pretty sure the whole 'nine lives' thing Ino teased him about was exclusive to felines – and unless he was indulging the role of "scaredy cat" he had nothing in common with the animal other than the basic instinct not to die.
Yeah, so why the hell am I here again?
He traced his eyes over his destination.
The Hyūga residence had clearly been designed to emulate the cold elegance and power of the clan that inhabited it. The structure was just as prominent and proud as any member, the maintenance kept immaculate right down to the condition of its cool walls and swept threshold.
Shikamaru shifted his weight onto his left foot, trying to pull off his natural slouch without aggravating his ribs. "Shit…"
Hell, if he'd had a shred of sense, he'd have turned an awkward circle and walked his ass back in the other direction. But then, he wasn't so sure he was operating from his head. There were still some loose ends he needed to tie, if only to keep Neji covered from as many angles as he could. He'd torn down enough of the Hyūga's defences, hadn't he? There was no way in hell he was going to leave the Jōnin open for a hit from the Head of the Clan.
Now, as far as deflecting the blow, there was just no easy way to do it.
He'd have to take the damn bull by the horns.
Maybe with some careful mental footwork, he might be able to live through it.
"May I help you?"
Shikamaru blinked from his thoughts and flicked his gaze across to a young man sweeping leaves into a neat, smoking pile. The scent of wood smoke began to waft over, rich and calming; soothing his nerves in the same way he imagined cigarettes did for Asuma.
Asuma…
Another situation he'd have to confront; provided he lived through this one.
The man cocked his head and Shikamaru's attention was redirected by the late afternoon glow flashing off the man's hitai-ate, announcing his status as a Branch member just as keenly as the obedience with which he moved.
"May I help you?" he repeated.
Shikamaru opened his mouth, somewhat shocked by the thick rasp of his voice as the bruised chords in his throat strained to operate. "I'd appreciate if you could. I'm here to speak with Hiashi-sama."
"Were you summoned?" the man queried, straightening up, his white eyes straying to the healing gash on Shikamaru's cheek.
"Yeah, something like that."
"If you'll just wait a moment, he might be in council."
"Thanks," Shikamaru croaked, turning his focus towards the smouldering leaves as the man vanished inside.
Unsurprisingly, he wasn't kept waiting long.
"Nara Shikamaru?"
Shikamaru glanced toward the threshold as the man gestured him forward with a tilt of his wrist. "Hiashi-sama will speak with you."
Inclining his head, Shikamaru moved somewhat reluctantly, toeing off his sandals at the threshold. He followed the Branch member along the polished wood of the porch, across a courtyard dominated by a large, elegant tree, around to a side entrance that led into an empty room.
Shikamaru noted that Hiashi wasn't in it.
He only stepped in when the man gestured him forward, sliding the shoji door shut to leave him alone in the spacious room sizeable enough to hold counsel for several guests. However, the tatami flooring seemed worn and the fusuma panels were bare, without design, distraction or decoration. The layout and lack of grandeur suggested a training room, rather than a place reserved for consultation.
Great. He's definitely going to kill me if we're talking in here.
Another door slid open across from him.
Shikamaru's nerves tightened.
Like royalty taking audience, Hiashi entered with regal poise, commanding grace, his patrician features held in the same calm, stoic demeanour as the rest of his body. He turned to slide the door shut with a very deliberate thud.
Shikamaru bowed his head a little. "Hiashi-sama."
Hiashi ignored his attempt at civility, or rather, the Hyūga made no effort to return it.
Great…
For a weighted moment, Hiashi simply stared at him, gaze as steady as a tractor beam. Then he turned to pace across a raised area of the room – a dais for observing combat. There was a calculated manner in his steps, as if he was deliberately dragging out the seconds to make an unnecessary impression. An impression of how Shikamaru was fenced into both a situation and a room with no exit - unless the Hyūga made it available to him.
At least that was something familiar, if nothing else.
"Nara Shikamaru," Hiashi said at last, his deep, unreadable voice matching the too-calm look in his pale, crystal eyes.
Shikamaru turned to face the elder, watching as Hiashi slid back a fusuma panel to reveal a storage section neatly stacked with wooden bokken. The shadow-nin's eyes fixed on the wooden blades used for training purposes. Judging by the look Hiashi shot him, he wondered if the suburitō weapon Hiashi selected wouldn't be purposefully trained on his head.
"You came by our home the other day," Shikamaru said, clearing his throat, his attention split between the Hyūga's face and his hands. "You wanted to speak with me."
Hiashi slid the panel back, turned calmly and folded his hands across the wooden sword like a makeshift cane, tapping the end down gently. "You were sleeping."
Shikamaru nodded, resisting the urge to shift awkwardly. "Yeah."
"Past noon."
"I tend to do that when I have the time."
Hiashi stared at him as if he'd slipped into a foreign tongue, then blinked slowly. "I assume you know what I wish to speak to you about?"
"I don't want to assume anything at this point."
"Then let me be clear. It's about my nephew."
He knew Hiashi was waiting for him to look away, so he kept the eye contact steady and unblinking, fighting against the curious sensation of his nerves being plucked like strings.
"Does that alarm you, Nara?"
"Why would it?"
Hiashi's brow hiked upward in an elegant arch. "Why indeed?"
Shikamaru frowned, playing the part of the confused party.
Hiashi refolded his hands atop the bokken. "You and Neji co-led this mission in Hanegakure."
"That's right."
"Was he injured?"
Shit…
Shikamaru mirrored the Hyūga's arched brow. "Injured?"
"Do not parrot me, Nara, answer my question."
"No, he wasn't," Shikamaru replied without hesitation. "He took a side-operation outside the borders with Hinata and Sakura."
"So my daughter tells me," Hiashi said, his chin slanting briefly towards the shoji door, though his eyes remained fixed on the shadow-nin. "I haven't spoken with my nephew as yet, but I imagine he'd corroborate this story."
Story?
Shikamaru's brain unhelpfully translated the one word into its most blatant meaning, which was that his attempts to bullshit Hiashi were hitting a massive fan that was going to throw a load of crap back in his direction if he didn't switch tactic.
"The mission reports state the details, Hiashi-sama."
"I am not interested in doctored reports." The Hyūga's fingers tightened around the bokken like a lion flexing its claws. "I'm sure you're aware that false reports stand to put you in a very disreputable position."
Translation: Your murder is still imminent and it might even be legal
Shit.
Shikamaru met the Hyūga's steady gaze. "I don't know what you're referring to."
"Your deception is trying my patience. Consider this a warning."
"I don't know what you want me to say, Hiashi-sama. I can't tell you what I don't know."
And then, the most dangerous thing that Shikamaru could have seen in Hiashi's eyes made itself known. It carried in the barest flicker across the cool orbs before those quartz eyes positively glinted with it.
Amusement.
The indulgent, condescending kind, darkened with just a hint of scorn.
The kind of look a victor deigned their enemy with when they'd expected a better fight before pulling out their trump card to make a clean kill.
Fuck.
"Then allow me to tell you what I know, Nara." Hiashi's voice dropped a dangerous notch. "I know my nephew's ability to mould chakra was severely hampered prior to this mission in Hanegakure. I also know that his attempts to hide from me can be attributed to his association with you."
Shikamaru would have looked shocked if his mind wasn't already operating ahead of his physical reactions. Immediately, it worked to calculate how the hell Hiashi was in possession of such specific information. More importantly though, was the information the Hyūga wasn't in possession of – it was that information which was vital if he was going to survive this mess.
"That's inaccurate, Hiashi-sama," Shikamaru replied with commendable calm, stalling for time.
"It's remarkable how fluidly you lie, Shikamaru," Hiashi paused suddenly, almost unintentionally. "But as Shikaku's son, I suppose you've a talent for it."
Shikamaru frowned at that, but he lacked a context to cross-reference those words against other than the most recent faceoff between his father and the Hyūga.
Great, did my old man do something else to piss you off?
It wouldn't have surprised him really. His father had always had an odd way with Hiashi, which he'd attributed solely to a clash of family values.
"As far as this ability to lie goes, the same cannot be said for my daughter," Hiashi continued smoothly. "She hasn't the heart for deception and her attempts to try are incriminating to say the least."
Shikamaru blanched, his blood chilling at those words.
He hoped to God the exhaustion hanging in his expression was enough to cover the shift in his pallor.
Apparently it wasn't.
Hiashi's lip curved mirthlessly. "I'm no fool and I will not be played as one. Not by your father and not by you. I know that more than one of my nephew's unexplainable absences can be accounted for by time spent at your residence."
Shikamaru's mind instantly flipped forward the catalogued memories, running along the timeline in an instant to the day Hinata had brought Neji's clothing around.
Shit, he had her followed…that's got to be it…
It wasn't hard to imagine, considering Neji's disappearing acts during that time. Hinata had also mentioned Hiashi being disconcerted by Neji's excessive acceptance of missions away from home. Little wonder then, that the Hyūga Lord had taken measures to keep a closer eye on his daughter's movements too.
Shikamaru worked his jaw.
God, I'm running out of ways to play this safe.
In the span of assessing all this, Hiashi hadn't left him room to respond, continuing on in that same deep, velvet tone; but just like the fabric, it could be interpreted two ways and there was a low edge working against the smoothness in his voice.
"While Neji's conduct is unacceptable, there are more pressing matters at hand. Was he injured in Hanegakure? Think twice before you lie to me."
Shikamaru lowered his gaze to Hiashi's hands, watching the slow and highly lethal way in which the sinews tightened. Playing it safe wasn't really an option. But then, it's not like this was any more a game than the rest of it had been.
No more running from it…
The shadow-nin's eyes shuttered, but his voice grew stronger. "What happened to Neji in Hanegakure happened because I miscalculated."
"He was injured." Not a question.
Shikamaru's eyes closed briefly. "Yes…"
He heard Hiashi's robes shift with a subtle movement that dragged the bokken a little closer to the Hyūga's body. "Dare I assume that this is the second time my nephew has almost lost his life due to your miscalculations?"
The words plucked a nerve hard enough to snap it.
Shikamaru's expression tightened, his eyes swinging even with Hiashi's. "If you suspect me of something, Hiashi-sama, then your best bet is to approach the Hokage and make a formal complaint."
The silence that held could have been lethal; it was hard to tell, because when Hiashi responded his voice had shifted to a strange timbre slightly harder to interpret.
"I'm asking for the truth."
The shadow-nin shook his head weakly. "I can't answer your questions."
"Allow me to rephrase. I'm not asking. And whatever lies you and my daughter have created in attempts to deceive me—"
"Hinata had nothing to do with it," Shikamaru cut across, earning him an icy look that had chilled older men into silence and submission; but then, Shikamaru had seen Neji's eyes colder and harder than the one's staring back at him. "I hold myself accountable for what happened to Neji in Hanegakure and like you said, not for the first time. It had nothing to do with his ability to mould chakra. It was my fault. That's all I can tell you. That's the truth."
"I do not believe you for a second."
Not giving a chance for those words to settle, Shikamaru straightened, ignoring the twinge in his ribs. "In order to meet our objective, Neji took a hit I should've made sure he didn't have to take. He was treated outside of Konoha, under my orders because of his condition."
"I am not interested in what your objective was, Nara. We both know my nephew's condition was down to more than this mission or your miscalculation."
"It was down to me."
Silence filled the room, like an abrupt intake of breath, pressing out against the walls and in against Shikamaru's eardrums. The pause felt heavy and dangerous, tense enough to raise shorthairs and prickle skin.
Hiashi's eyes held fast on him, speculating ruthlessly. "Are you protecting him, Shikamaru?"
The shadow-nin's lip cut upward in a weak, bitter smile. "I stall and strategise from the sidelines, Hiashi-sama. I don't do such a great job with protecting people. That would be another miscalculation...to assume that I could."
Hiashi dismissed his evasion as if it was too weak to be worth acknowledging. "What were you protecting him from?"
"If I was protecting anything, it was Neji's dignity. That's it."
Hiashi cocked his head, almost feline-like. "What are you still protecting him from, given that you continue to insult my intelligence?"
Shikamaru hesitated, but managed to hold his expression steady. "I didn't come here to insult you, Hiashi-sama. But I can't answer your questions."
"So you would risk your reputation merely to preserve my nephew's dignity?"
Shikamaru almost smiled at that, but shook his head instead. "I don't care about my reputation."
"Clearly not, but my question still stands. Why are you doing it?"
It was a question that hooked his heart and yanked it hard, forcing him to swallow before he murmured his answer. "Because I'm his friend."
Hiashi's brows shot upward in uncharacteristic animation. "His friend? You expect me to accept this childish and somewhat pathetic attempt at an answer?"
"No," Shikamaru looked away, watching the amber light filter warmly through the shoji panels. "But whether you accept it or not doesn't make it any less true."
A quiet sound, which could have been a cross between intrigue and irritation caught low in Hiashi's throat, dislodging in a dismissive scoff. "You have your father's way with words, but being the Jōnin Commander's son does not exempt you from protocol if I decide to act on my suspicions."
Shikamaru acted before Hiashi had the chance.
He shot a sidelong look at the Hyūga. "Then do it now."
Hiashi blinked, tucking his chin back in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"
Shikamaru took the opening, not because he thought it was the tactically smart thing to do – hell, it wasn't – but because he was exhausted. He was so damned tired of the questions caging his conscience into corners. He'd do penance on his own time, in the privacy of his own space, not here with Hiashi giving him a cross-examination that made the bokken look friendly.
He'd taken enough of a beating on the inside.
But if he had to swallow his pride in order to protect Neji's, then he would.
Small price to pay, after everything we've both lost...
Shikamaru drew a sharp breath, averted his gaze to the ground and quietly lowered one knee to the floor, inwardly cringing at the twinge in his side.
"What are you doing?" Hiashi demanded, the stern look on his face tightening uncertainly.
Bowing, Shikamaru braced a forearm across his raised knee and kept his gaze cast down, his voice drifting out in quiet resignation. "If I've insulted you with my actions or words, then I apologise with both. But if you suspect me of something more than just insulting you, then I'll accept whatever measured steps you need to take."
With his eyes on the ground, he didn't see the look on Hiashi's face.
He probably wouldn't have known how to respond to it if he had.
The Hyūga's expression arched in open surprise and then his pale eyes narrowed into a fleeting look torn with a very human confusion, one which came from deep beneath the well-bred veneer.
"You'd destroy your dignity, just to protect his?" Hiashi murmured, the confusion still holding in his eyes and almost imperceptibly in his voice. "Unless it's more than just his dignity that you are protecting…?"
Shikamaru offered no response and let the half-mast of his lashes fall lower, not even trying to strategise a reply. There was none. This moment and his actions held more truth than his words ever could.
He felt the weight of the Hyūga's gaze like a blade above his head.
He even waited for the blow to land.
But then a soft sigh filtered into the quiet.
When Hiashi finally spoke, his voice sounded quieter, as if from faraway. "Stand up and go home, Nara. We are done here."

Sunset bled away into the bruised hues of twilight, a dusky canvas spattered with the dim flicker of the first stars. Neji's gaze settled on the brightest spark, set off against a patch of indigo darkening to black.
The serenity that came with falling night felt hollow somehow.
Out of reach...
As distant as those stars...
A soft flare of ice-blue light drew his gaze down to the young kunoichi turning fluid circles in the courtyard. She hadn't stopped since she'd started. Neji had watched her quietly from the sidelines, still and stoic as a sentinel.
That is what I am…isn't it?
Hinata pulled her fist in sharply, thrusting her other palm out with a wince.
Neji cocked his head and watched the chakra flare along her hand like a blue-white glove; it swelled, then fizzled away weakly.
Close.
He observed her repeat the process and the mistake. The frustration touched her eyes, but he imagined the disappointment struck her heart harder.
A shoji door slid shut across the porch.
Neji turned his head, then immediately pivoted and bowed.
Hiashi came to stand beside him, but the elder's eyes strayed to his daughter. Neji followed suit, turning his focus back to Hinata, if only to avoid directing his attention to Hiashi's profile, which remained set in its familiar set of stern, sombre lines. If he'd looked closer, he might have detected something else in his uncle's face.
The silence that held between them wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't strained.
Their mutual point of focus narrowed down to Hinata and it was only the soft sound of her breathing and focused shouts that filled the quiet courtyard. The scent of wood smoke and the occasional sputter of drifting cinders carried across the air, dying sparks on a cool and crisp breeze.
Hiashi raised his jaw, but did not turn his head. "Your defiance will not be tolerated, regardless of how you feel, you must understand that."
Neji blinked slowly, watching Hinata's movements. "I've always understood that, Hiashi-sama. What I do not understand is why you didn't encourage your brother to take what ANBU offered him."
Hinata stumbled back a pace, shook out her hands and launched straight back into her kata, turning graceful and controlled loops with her arms. Hiashi frowned, watching her footwork instead.
"Is that what this is about, Neji?" he queried. "Your father?"
Neji eyes followed Hinata's hands. "I have given eighteen years of obedience to the cage I was born into, Hiashi-sama...and I appreciate the leniency you have shown me as my uncle."
"Do you really?" Hiashi countered, frowning when Hinata stumbled again.
Neji turned his head a little, glancing through the fall of his bangs at the stern furrow marring Hiashi's brow. "I respect you, but I would be lying if I said I held anything other than contempt for the elders."
"Mind your tongue," Hiashi warned, not having to raise his voice or turn his head. "Even my leniency has its limits."
That was certainly no lie; Neji knew the limits of leniency extended about as far as the concept of mercy in the Hyūga clan. Given what the clan did to their own blood, mercy was not a virtue but a novelty – if someone was especially lucky, mercy was a blessing.
Neji turned his gaze back to Hinata. "Then I ask that your leniency allow me a question. The elders have already answered, despite the decision resting with you."
Hiashi's wry chuckle sounded more like a snort in his unpractised tones. "You have spent too much time with Shikaku's son, if you think you can play power games, Neji."
"I would not gamble my freedom on anything," Neji replied sharply, tempering his tone when he sensed Hiashi casting him a warning glance. "This is not a game to me, Hiashi-sama."
"Then ask your question."
"If I wish to pursue ANBU, will you stop me?"
The breeze seemed to die.
Neji felt his breath cease in tandem, holding in his throat.
Hinata turned two gentle revolutions by the time Hiashi answered, his words misting in the cool night air.
"No, I will not stop you," he said quietly before adding sternly, "but I will not support you either."
Neji shook his head, his lips tightening against a bitter smile. "Would it be easier for all concerned if I took my father's path? If I were to be weak…"
"Your father was not weak." The speed of Hiashi's response was nothing compared to the stern way in which he said it, asserting his words with an edge that almost suggested he'd been offended.
Neji frowned, looking askance at his uncle. "No. He was just consumed by his bitterness…and he damned me to the same fate, hoping I'd be strong enough to escape my destiny in the way that he didn't…"
Hiashi's anger mellowed, his jaw easing from its rigid clench. "That is not true. Your father was a victim, not a villain."
"And what am I?" Neji whispered bitterly, his deep voice trembling with a sudden upsurge of emotion he didn't have the strength to rein in. "A testament to his tragedy?"
Hiashi turned, glancing across at his nephew through grave, steady eyes. "No, Neji. You are a testament to what can be born from Hizashi's tragedy."
"And what is that?"
Hiashi looked away, his gaze straying skyward. "Hope."
Neji blinked, seriously wondering if he'd misheard.
He followed his uncle's gaze warily, then glanced back at the elder Hyūga.
Hiashi's eyes traced a distant constellation and something sad etched into the corners of his eyes, like a touch of long-denied emotion that shouldn't have been there.
"I still wear the chains of our clan's traditions. As did my brother…" Hiashi lowered his gaze, settling the same strangely pinched look on Hinata. "But with every generation those links weaken…you will break your chains, Neji. Do not hate your father, for being unable to break his."
Stunned, Neji could do no more than stare sidelong at his uncle, his own pale orbs narrowing against the stinging pain pushing into his eyes. Hiashi kept his focus on his daughter, blinking slowly.
"It was never a matter of encouraging Hizashi to take what ANBU offered. He stayed because he wanted things to change for the Branch House." Hiashi glanced across, forcing Neji to avert his gaze. "And for you, Neji. You were the reason he wanted our clan to change."
I wish I could have been the reason he'd wanted to live.
Neji let his bangs hide the expression of grief etching into the proud mask of his face, closing his eyes slowly.
The wound deep inside him, the one torn open and cut into more times than he could stand to take, seemed to ache with a different emotion now; in that raw place that had never really healed, he felt sadness bleeding through the anger that had been infecting it for two months.
One day, I promise I will forgive you…
But not yet. He wasn't ready to let that go.
"I will not make my father's mistake," Neji said quietly, his eyes still closed, as if he was readdressing a part of himself that had briefly lost its way. "I will pursue ANBU."
"And as I said," Hiashi nodded, "I will not stop you."
The very fact that you 'could' is why I am doing this…
Neji bit back the urge to voice this thought and instead slipped his eyes open, staring ahead as Hinata attempted another jutsu. The chakra flared again across her fists, held in a blob-like glow, then faded in a sputter that left her panting and gritting her teeth, the determined set of her chin wobbling once.
She glanced up from her shaking fists and looked across at her father.
Hiashi simply turned his back and walked away.
Neji watched the kunoichi's eyes follow the elder, wide and luminous in the dark.
There was something distinctly childlike in the way she stared at the shoji door that Hiashi slid back, as if expecting her father to pause and turn.
He didn't.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Hinata dropped her eyes to her hands, her fists shaking as her breath hitched once. But without another sound, she pushed herself back into the kata, stabbing the air with the heels of her palms, turning circles that were a little too jerky to be focused.
Neji's eyes narrowed a little.
He stepped away from the porch, moving in a whisper of white across the courtyard to approach his cousin. Hinata didn't notice him, her focus channelled inward and only outward as far as her arms extended.
It was only when she caught the soft flow of robes on her immediate periphery that she slowed her movements enough to realise that Neji was moving beside her, mirroring the kata at a pace that forced her to slow down and focus on him.
Wide-eyed, she looked across, hesitating.
Neji shook his head, not looking at her. "Do not focus solely on your fists even if that is where you are concentrating your jutsu. The chakra doesn't begin in your hands, it flows there. Come, try again."
Hinata stopped moving, her jaw dropping open a little as she straightened up on the spot, blinking hard. "I…" she trailed off.
Neji kept his eyes ahead, sliding into the starting stance of the kata.
"Again," he said.
Hinata stared, smiled softly and immediately moved to mirror him. "Yes."
Neji nodded.
They began again and when Hinata faltered, Neji guided her with a patience he'd never shown before.
And for the first time since the divide in the clan, their Hyūga blood felt thicker than water.

Water, it reflected back the bright disc of the moon in a distorted shimmer.
Shikamaru's eyes narrowed, watching the fragmented play of light as he stood in the deep, encompassing embrace of shadows. They wrapped around him like a sheet, broken up by a dapple of moonlight through the branches of the tree he'd been slouched against for the past few hours, watching the last of the clouds turn from fire to ash.
He felt just as burnt out inside.
The tension he'd carried from his confrontation with Hiashi had finally slid from his shoulders, leaving him listless and dazed. Like he'd reserved a load of adrenaline to run like hell only to find he wasn't being chased.
Odd, but even the relief felt exhausting.
I just need to sleep…
No drugs, no concussion, no induced unconsciousness, just a natural, unaided, uninterrupted sleep. No sooner had his mind centred itself on this thought, than it drifted unwittingly onto Neji, steered by a flood of feeling he wasn't sure what to do with.
Can't change it, just gotta accept it…maybe try to forget…
Which wouldn't happen.
For everything bloody, bruised or broken between them, it didn't change what they'd created in the chaos. Somehow, it had withstood whatever the hell they'd thrown at it and at each other.
Shikamaru smiled weakly, a ghost of growing sadness in his eyes.
Troublesome Hyūga…
Staring out at the glassy water, he watched fireflies hover by the reeds. He must have watched them dance for a good half hour before he turned to make his way home, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his eyes cast down as he walked the ribbon of white the sidewalk had become under the moon's glow.
He took another roundabout route, idling along until a sharp bark drew his attention to a dog padding down along the sidewalk, nose to the ground. The white and brown canine paused a few paces away, head jerking up suddenly, the moonlight gleaming off the hitai-ate secured around its bandaged neck.
A ninken?
Upon spotting Shikamaru, the ninja hound scuttled back, head cocked in a quizzical expression before it woofed softly and dropped into a play-bow, wagging its chocolate wand of a tail.
Shikamaru frowned when he noticed the blue vest the animal sported.
There was no mistaking one of Kakashi's ninken.
Ugh. Pigs, birds, dogs…seriously…why does this crap always happen to me…?
Before Shikamaru could consider taking several steps back from what was likely to be a troublesome situation, a familiar silhouette threw itself across the sidewalk, cast from the building above.
"Want to know how to win a cat and mouse game?" a deep voice called.
Shikamaru's eyes widened.
He had no time to reply, even if he'd thought to.
The scuff of feet thudded as the figure dropped down in front of him, the broad-shouldered frame immediately eclipsing the moon to cast the young Nara in shadow.
"You bring in a dog," Asuma said.
- 45
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Break to Breathe