Happy Birthday, Squeak!
I tried to get it all done today (you should remember the first part!), but things didn't go as planned. Sorry. ^^; In it's place, I offer you 40% of the story and a promise to get this done . . . soon. After Christmas, most likely.
In the Branch, snide whispers about the Head are the rarest and most prized of treasures. So when Neji hears that the Hyuuga Heir was pale and shaking so much that her chopsticks clicked together audibly during dinner, he wants to see for himself what has caused the newly graduated genin to lose her composure so completely. Something like that never would happen to him, if he was in her place.
So he goes to his room and gets ready for the night, laying on the futon for over an hour, feigning insomnia. It is never safe to think one is unnoticed in the Hyuuga Clan; deception is always necessary, and Neji is a master at fooling his clansmen's eyes. When Neji finally sits up from his futon and travels out of his room and into the night, his excuse that he couldn't sleep will be easily verified after his sleepless time in bed. Neji skirts through the shadows, his travel towards her room made all the easier by the absence of moonlight.
The whispers of the Branch say many things about the Heir, for there is never any lack of her unbecoming characteristics. It is a snidely kept secret that Hyuuga Hinata is prone to talking to herself.
Neji's pace is slow and even, and when he finally stops his faux aimless steps, he is approximately ten meters away from her window. The routine he runs through is as familiar as the seal on his forehead, a long sequence of silent punches and kicks that inevitably draw him closer to her dimly lit window. The final strike in the routine places him just out of sight should she glance out the window.
He begins stretching then, practicing casualty he doesn't feel, as he devotes his mind to listening for her soft voice. Her voice is muffled but the night air carries it to Neji's ears, her voice husky from recent tears. Despite his efforts, he can only make out snatches of what she says, a scattered "-at me-" or a sparse "-shouldn't have-" and a plaintive "-sorry."
The last she repeats often.
The words spill haphazardly from her window like excess water in an overflowing vase, watering the dark plant she doesn't know is there.
He returns from his mission late at night but in one piece, which is more than can be said for the thief his team had been sent to track down.
Neji ghosts through a side gate of the compound, near a small training area by the gardens. He freezes in the shadows just inside the gate, the small sounds of labored breathing abnormally loud on the still summer night.
The waning moon makes shadows plentiful by the wall and he skulks through them, not wanting to disturb whomever it is that is training this late at night. Neji waits until he is far enough away that he can’t hear the other person and then carefully activates his Byakugan.
There, dancing through a kata in the pale moonlight, is the Hyuuga Heir. Neji watches her as she executes the hand thrusts, sees her manipulate her chakra system as she moves again and again through forms of the Jyuuken. He notes the imperfections, the improper timing not only of muscles but of chakra flow, how she’s wasting her power through unnecessary expenditure of energy.
Neji’s sight finds her every flaw. He watches her struggle a bit longer before dismissing her and cutting back the stream of chakra through his eyes. It’s a waste of a bloodline, not even worth looking at.
Neji makes his way to his bedroom and makes ready for bed.
Hinata practices until dawn. He sees her the next morning, when she is being reprimanded by her father for not paying enough attention to the day’s training.
Neji doesn’t allow his smirk to manifest as he heads to another training area and begins his preparations to do well in his first Chuunin Exam.
In other news, I go home tomorrow. Huzzah!
-Fi
In the Branch, snide whispers about the Head are the rarest and most prized of treasures. So when Neji hears that the Hyuuga Heir was pale and shaking so much that her chopsticks clicked together audibly during dinner, he wants to see for himself what has caused the newly graduated genin to lose her composure so completely. Something like that never would happen to him, if he was in her place.
So he goes to his room and gets ready for the night, laying on the futon for over an hour, feigning insomnia. It is never safe to think one is unnoticed in the Hyuuga Clan; deception is always necessary, and Neji is a master at fooling his clansmen's eyes. When Neji finally sits up from his futon and travels out of his room and into the night, his excuse that he couldn't sleep will be easily verified after his sleepless time in bed. Neji skirts through the shadows, his travel towards her room made all the easier by the absence of moonlight.
The whispers of the Branch say many things about the Heir, for there is never any lack of her unbecoming characteristics. It is a snidely kept secret that Hyuuga Hinata is prone to talking to herself.
Neji's pace is slow and even, and when he finally stops his faux aimless steps, he is approximately ten meters away from her window. The routine he runs through is as familiar as the seal on his forehead, a long sequence of silent punches and kicks that inevitably draw him closer to her dimly lit window. The final strike in the routine places him just out of sight should she glance out the window.
He begins stretching then, practicing casualty he doesn't feel, as he devotes his mind to listening for her soft voice. Her voice is muffled but the night air carries it to Neji's ears, her voice husky from recent tears. Despite his efforts, he can only make out snatches of what she says, a scattered "-at me-" or a sparse "-shouldn't have-" and a plaintive "-sorry."
The last she repeats often.
The words spill haphazardly from her window like excess water in an overflowing vase, watering the dark plant she doesn't know is there.
He returns from his mission late at night but in one piece, which is more than can be said for the thief his team had been sent to track down.
Neji ghosts through a side gate of the compound, near a small training area by the gardens. He freezes in the shadows just inside the gate, the small sounds of labored breathing abnormally loud on the still summer night.
The waning moon makes shadows plentiful by the wall and he skulks through them, not wanting to disturb whomever it is that is training this late at night. Neji waits until he is far enough away that he can’t hear the other person and then carefully activates his Byakugan.
There, dancing through a kata in the pale moonlight, is the Hyuuga Heir. Neji watches her as she executes the hand thrusts, sees her manipulate her chakra system as she moves again and again through forms of the Jyuuken. He notes the imperfections, the improper timing not only of muscles but of chakra flow, how she’s wasting her power through unnecessary expenditure of energy.
Neji’s sight finds her every flaw. He watches her struggle a bit longer before dismissing her and cutting back the stream of chakra through his eyes. It’s a waste of a bloodline, not even worth looking at.
Neji makes his way to his bedroom and makes ready for bed.
Hinata practices until dawn. He sees her the next morning, when she is being reprimanded by her father for not paying enough attention to the day’s training.
Neji doesn’t allow his smirk to manifest as he heads to another training area and begins his preparations to do well in his first Chuunin Exam.
In other news, I go home tomorrow. Huzzah!
-Fi