[Naruto] Tender cold (not fragile)
Title: Tender cold (not fragile)
Characters/Pairing: Hinata, Neji (NejiHina)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: past noncon, triggery.
Summary: All the help Hinata needs is for Neji to stand and watch; all Neji can do is give her control. RL AU.
Notes: for hc_bingo, theme 'bruises'.
The bruise on Hinata's skin is a molted shade of purpleish blue. It paints the last spot in a picture of browns and greens, a bit like an impressionist landscape, but mostly like a life-sized piece of jewelry Klimt would have painted if he had decided to exchange the trademark golden for the living colours on Hinata's skin.
Neji has never considered himself very artistic, but no-one can deny Hinata is a work of art.
Even now, he thinks, as she stands in front of the bathroom mirror under the too harsh light and carefully works her limbs and muscles, gingerly but without shying away from the pain she must feel.
Still, how aesthetical he finds Hinata is not the point. Even the beauty of the show, after all, is not enough to blow the candle of concern he's forever burning.
He isn't entirely regretful when he speaks up, from his place leaning in the doorway.
"Don't you think you should go easier on yourself?"
Hinata looks away from her bruises into Neji's eyes in the mirror.
"I need all the training I can do," she says before looking down at her body again.
Neji clenches his teeth.
He'd like to say that he doubts being a giant bruise is part of the training routine of most martial artists, but he keeps his mouth shut.
He suspects Hinata might be able to step into the shower when he's still standing here if he talks; step into the shower, slide the door behind her, take her bra and her panties off, and take her shower, her body nothing more than a multicoloured blurr behind the frosted glass of the shower door. The scenario hasn't happened so far, not out of Neji's fevered imagination, but he still dreads...
Instead, he selects to say something almost equally mind-blowingly stupid, but one stupidity that is common to these one-sided talks of theirs.
"Maybe you should stop trying to please your father at all costs."
It's stupid, but it's safe. Hiashi doesn't really factor into their little bathroom ritual.
"I'm not doing this for Otousan," Hinata says without looking away.
Neji's nails are biting into the flesh of his palms.
He wants to say that what happened would never happen again now; that even if there were four people, five, attacking Hinata now, he doesn't believe she would have much difficulty in fending them off. He wants to say that she can stop doing this.
Most of all, he wants to say that he can protect her, but of all the things that cannot be said, this is the first.
He has already been trusted with her protection before, and they've seen how it ended.
Hinata and Neji have seen; Hinata hasn't told anyone else. Neji thinks they should have, and once upon a time he wouldn't have waited to hear Hinata's opinion one way or another before acting, but this has stopped. Now Neji does nothing Hinata doesn't want him to. It's the least he can do.
It's the reason why, when Hinata stands almost naked in front of the bathroom mirror, Neji watches her. He stands in the doorway, so far she hasn't asked him to come closer, but he never takes his eyes away. Even when Hinata peels her clothes off first. Even when Hinata shivers under his gaze. Even when Hinata swallows and licks her lips in nervousness.
"I'm doing this for me," Hinata whispers, and Neji watches with horror her hands rise slowly behind her back, untrembling, unhook the bra.
She keeps the garment in front of her a mere moment, then she lets it drop on the ground. She's still facing away from him, but there is the mirror in front of her.
Neji forces himself to stay impassive and blocks the swallow before it happens, even when the skin under her bruises turn pink. He feels a sharp pain in his right hand and he knows his nails have broken the skin, but he doesn't move.
After several minutes, Hinata's reflection smiles in the mirror.
"Th-thank you, Neji-niisan," she says, and her smile may be slightly brittle, and her eyes may be slightly bright, and her shoulders may be slightly tense, but she looks more real than she has since she came back from training.
Without a word, Neji leaves and slinks the bathroom door shut behind him.
He stays in control until he is in his room and he's closed the door; then, at last, he slides to the floor and puts his face in his hands. He starts trembling once he thinks of his biggest fear, the day Hinata has grown at ease with his looking.
He has stayed in control thus far. He fears the day Hinata will ask him to touch her.
Characters/Pairing: Hinata, Neji (NejiHina)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: past noncon, triggery.
Summary: All the help Hinata needs is for Neji to stand and watch; all Neji can do is give her control. RL AU.
Notes: for hc_bingo, theme 'bruises'.
The bruise on Hinata's skin is a molted shade of purpleish blue. It paints the last spot in a picture of browns and greens, a bit like an impressionist landscape, but mostly like a life-sized piece of jewelry Klimt would have painted if he had decided to exchange the trademark golden for the living colours on Hinata's skin.
Neji has never considered himself very artistic, but no-one can deny Hinata is a work of art.
Even now, he thinks, as she stands in front of the bathroom mirror under the too harsh light and carefully works her limbs and muscles, gingerly but without shying away from the pain she must feel.
Still, how aesthetical he finds Hinata is not the point. Even the beauty of the show, after all, is not enough to blow the candle of concern he's forever burning.
He isn't entirely regretful when he speaks up, from his place leaning in the doorway.
"Don't you think you should go easier on yourself?"
Hinata looks away from her bruises into Neji's eyes in the mirror.
"I need all the training I can do," she says before looking down at her body again.
Neji clenches his teeth.
He'd like to say that he doubts being a giant bruise is part of the training routine of most martial artists, but he keeps his mouth shut.
He suspects Hinata might be able to step into the shower when he's still standing here if he talks; step into the shower, slide the door behind her, take her bra and her panties off, and take her shower, her body nothing more than a multicoloured blurr behind the frosted glass of the shower door. The scenario hasn't happened so far, not out of Neji's fevered imagination, but he still dreads...
Instead, he selects to say something almost equally mind-blowingly stupid, but one stupidity that is common to these one-sided talks of theirs.
"Maybe you should stop trying to please your father at all costs."
It's stupid, but it's safe. Hiashi doesn't really factor into their little bathroom ritual.
"I'm not doing this for Otousan," Hinata says without looking away.
Neji's nails are biting into the flesh of his palms.
He wants to say that what happened would never happen again now; that even if there were four people, five, attacking Hinata now, he doesn't believe she would have much difficulty in fending them off. He wants to say that she can stop doing this.
Most of all, he wants to say that he can protect her, but of all the things that cannot be said, this is the first.
He has already been trusted with her protection before, and they've seen how it ended.
Hinata and Neji have seen; Hinata hasn't told anyone else. Neji thinks they should have, and once upon a time he wouldn't have waited to hear Hinata's opinion one way or another before acting, but this has stopped. Now Neji does nothing Hinata doesn't want him to. It's the least he can do.
It's the reason why, when Hinata stands almost naked in front of the bathroom mirror, Neji watches her. He stands in the doorway, so far she hasn't asked him to come closer, but he never takes his eyes away. Even when Hinata peels her clothes off first. Even when Hinata shivers under his gaze. Even when Hinata swallows and licks her lips in nervousness.
"I'm doing this for me," Hinata whispers, and Neji watches with horror her hands rise slowly behind her back, untrembling, unhook the bra.
She keeps the garment in front of her a mere moment, then she lets it drop on the ground. She's still facing away from him, but there is the mirror in front of her.
Neji forces himself to stay impassive and blocks the swallow before it happens, even when the skin under her bruises turn pink. He feels a sharp pain in his right hand and he knows his nails have broken the skin, but he doesn't move.
After several minutes, Hinata's reflection smiles in the mirror.
"Th-thank you, Neji-niisan," she says, and her smile may be slightly brittle, and her eyes may be slightly bright, and her shoulders may be slightly tense, but she looks more real than she has since she came back from training.
Without a word, Neji leaves and slinks the bathroom door shut behind him.
He stays in control until he is in his room and he's closed the door; then, at last, he slides to the floor and puts his face in his hands. He starts trembling once he thinks of his biggest fear, the day Hinata has grown at ease with his looking.
He has stayed in control thus far. He fears the day Hinata will ask him to touch her.