Something To Talk About - Chapter 03
Title: Something To Talk About
Chapter: 03 The Outside
Author: Killaurey
Word Count: 4135
Summary: [AU/Futurefic] Hanabi and Hinata have never gotten along, living side by side, as strangers rather than sisters. When their father dies, Hanabi is left in control of the Clan: just in time to deal with a highly sensitive political issue that may rip Konoha apart. And to make things worse, Hinata chooses to be on the opposite side of the same issue…
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. Part 3 of ? Unbeta’d.
-0-
Pale crisp paper the consistency of parchment, dark green trim and a seal that was black. Single page letters, with no envelope, just folded three times and seal with wax. They heralded news that no shinobi ever wanted to get, and yet got far too often. Three letters, all reading more or less the same, found their way to Hanabi’s desk in the early evening dusk.
She quietly thanked the servant for bringing them to her, dismissed him, and locked the door tight. It did not matter that, in the Hyuuga Compound, anyone who was using the Byakugan would be able to see her anyway. It was the point of the thing. She needed the door locked.
Her hands didn’t tremble, she felt enclosed in ice and drew that feeling of disconnect around her even tighter. Three of them, all at once. A childish part of her wanted to protest that it wasn’t fair and that if maybe she didn’t open the letters that their news would just disappear.
Hanabi ignored that futile wish and carefully, one after the other, opened the letters:
NOTIFICATION OF DEATH
Shinobi Registration No.: 007612
Name: Senju Hideki
Rank: Jounin
Memorial Date: 05/17
NOTIFICATION OF DEATH
Shinobi Registration No.: 013068
Name: Morikawa Maki
Rank: Chuunin
Memorial Date: 05/17
NOTIFICATION OF DEATH
Shinobi Registration No.: 013090
Name: Arata Tomoe
Rank: Chuunin
Memorial Date: 05/17
Cold news, with no words of comfort. The thin sheets of paper were altogether too brittle for the news they bore. Hanabi carefully smoothed them out on her desk-her father’s desk-and took a deep breath. She would not disgrace herself, not even in the privacy of her own home.
Another breath. Then another. In and out, carefully regulated, each inhale and exhale letting her carefully put back together the cracks in her composure.
It looked like she wouldn’t be asking her team’s opinion of the law change after all.
That night, though she retired early to bed, Hanabi barely slept at all.
-0-
The slow burn deep in his muscles was a pleasant counter-point to the brisk wind that was blowing through the compound. He sank into a Jyuuken stance, centering himself with hardly a thought, and then flowed into movement.
Early morning practice, so early in fact that the area was empty but for him. Neji preferred it that way, though he knew that either of his cousins would likely be the next to join him. It was almost an unspoken agreement (insofar as they ever came to agree on anything) that if one was here, that the other would not be.
For the moment, however, he brushed the thoughts away and devoted himself to his forms.
Nearly an hour later, sweat soaked and breathing slightly ragged-he was pushing himself more than he would out in the field-Neji was starting to wind down his practice. It only made good sense, to work harder here. The more he could take now, the more he could handle if it came down to it out on missions. He was mildly amused, though, to note that he’d been wrong about either of his cousins joining him.
While Hanabi-sama was now exempt from missions-the head of their Clan was far too important to risk on the daily dangers that were dealt with on duty-Neji knew that he’d be back to active duty soon.
Hinata’s soft footsteps, easily recognized, drew him from his thoughts. Apparently, he’d drawn the final conclusion too quickly. She stood on the edge of the practice area, hair tied back, and looking quietly serene. He noticed she was dressed for the Academy already.
“Good morning, Hinata-sama,” he said, with a tilt of his head, coming up out of the stance with a twist of his hips and settling his balance evenly.
“Neji-niisan,” she said, smiling in the early morning light. “Your form is fine today.”
The ghost of a smile crossed his lips at that, it was a mild compliment, but that was her way. Gushing and squealing wouldn’t have been her, and for that he was glad. It was annoying. “I’m sure your form is as well,” he offered, feeling it was a pittance of a reply, but knowing it would be enough for her.
It was.
“Not too bad,” she agreed quietly. “I did a bit of warming up in the north area. I thought, perhaps, Hanabi would join you today?”
“I’ve seen no sign of Hyuuga-sama,” he said, tone even-the sort of voice that let little thought through. He’d heard from the servants that Hanabi had received a few letters and gone to bed early the night before. For all of that, he didn’t care for feeling as if Hinata were fishing for information. It didn’t suit her. It was that pique that had him leaving out a bit of what he knew. “She retired to her rooms early last night, and has not left them as far as I have heard. If you cared to see her, I am sure you could gain entrance.”
His words were surer than his thoughts at that one. Hanabi had always been touchy when it came to her older sister. Hm. He’d have to check with the servants to make sure that Hanabi was still there. Hyuuga-sama now, or not, she was still sixteen and her rebellious moods had never been entirely tamed.
She was cold; no doubt about that, but she was also less malleable and harder to sway than Hinata. In that, Hanabi reminded him the most of her father, his uncle. Neji glanced at Hinata. “Was there something that Hyuuga-sama would have wanted to talk to me about?”
The phrasing of her question was interesting.
“I only wondered,” she said, colouring slightly. “You’d know better than I, of course.”
Empty words. They both knew that he spent more time than she did around Hanabi. He didn’t fall for it, but didn’t give anything away either. Neji studied her for a long moment-long enough that her veneer of calm cracked slightly-before nodding and walking towards her.
“Was there something you wanted to discuss then?”
She looked mildly taken aback at his directness. Neji pretended he didn’t notice that while reaching for a soft towel to drape over his shoulders and wipe his face with. It was a small bit of decorum. Hinata always responded better if you gave her the time to gather herself, Hanabi did better straight on. It was a distinction, yet another one, that he made and filed away in his thoughts.
Hinata straightened her shoulders, perhaps feeling his gaze on her, and raised her chin slightly. “I wished to know your opinion on the law proposed to raise the age of graduation from twelve to fourteen.”
Neji sighed. He’d expected something like that, and had begun to hope that neither of the two would ask.
“I can’t answer,” he said, almost regretfully. Hanabi had not asked him, and he doubted she would. “Not that.”
Her eyes bored into him, outwardly placid but the fact that she was displeased was clear to his senses. “May I ask why not, Neji-niisan? Has my sister ordered you to-“
He raised one hand; that was a trail of thought he didn’t need occurring to either of them. It would only cause more division, and that was the last thing he wanted. “My mind is my own,” he said severely, “and neither Hyuuga-sama, or yourself, Hinata-sama, can prevent me from my having my own thoughts and keeping my own counsel. But I’ll not air them for either of you.”
Though if Hanabi, Hyuuga-sama, ever ordered it, he would have no choice but to obey. Discretion led him to not mention that. Neji thought, though, that Hanabi had a better sense of why he’d not yet said anything either way. That too, was provided decorum.
Hinata was still looking at him.
Neji picked up a canteen and nearly drained it dry of water before giving her more of an answer. “Hyuuga does not need more turmoil at this point,” he said, picking and choosing his words carefully. “My position is that the Clan first needs to come to a consensus as to the public opinion on this movement. The fact that you and Hyuuga-sama are on opposing sides brings disquiet not just to Konoha, but also within the Clan. I will not exacerbate it and come between the two of you.”
“You support her in public,” Hinata said, her voice controlled.
“I don’t,” he disagreed, though mildly. “Nor do I support your position in public. Hyuuga-sama speaks for the Clan, and as I am part of that same Clan, it would be ill-advised to break rank publicly. My opinions, I am afraid, are my own.” And would stay that way. “I only do both of you the kindness of remaining silent.”
“I will see you later,” he said, presuming that his words would put an end to that line of thinking for a least long enough for him to shower. With another slight nod of his head, Neji left, and could feel her staring after him the whole way.
-0-
Her head ached, her hands were cramping from writing too long and too hard, and the stack of notes she had amassed on her desk were a good start, Hinata judged, but only that. Pushing back her chair, stretching her spine and feeling the crack and pull of the muscles as they moved for the first time in hours, she lay her pen down.
A glance at the clock proved it was, already, the next day-she’d worked through the night again-and that there was just enough time to grab something to eat before she had a meeting with Hokage-sama and Naruto. Discussing the next move for the legislation.
Too early, she thought, for anything to be done. Public opinion had to be gauged more accurately before they’d know how best to spin the next meeting. Hinata sighed, stepped over to the small window and opened it, letting fresh air into the small room. It was warm out, already, but she left her jacket on.
Konoha was already active, shinobi darting over roof-tops on their way to (or even, she thought, from) the mission desks, heading out, getting back in. Civilians were hustling their children to school, opening stands, doing laundry. Another day.
The sun shone brightly.
With a sigh-one borne from a combination of pleasure at the beauty of the day, and from the headache that echoed dully in her temples from neglecting her sleep-she grabbed a brush from her desk, ran it through her hair a few times, appearances were important, and headed out. A few quick seals in addition to a key had the door locked behind her good and tight.
Outside it was even nicer. Hinata bowed to the weather, unzipping her jacket a few inches, just enough for more ventilation, and reveled in the feel of the wind against her face. It was a time for new beginnings.
A time for change.
Her smile faded slightly, though she still returned the greetings of those who recognized her on her way, and she thought about that. Change, yes, but at what cost? Her research hadn’t yielded anything yet that could say definitively one way or another if she was right, or if Shino did, in fact, have a point.
It was the right thing to do, this law, changing the age of graduation, but Shino seldom misspoke himself. If the strain put on the other shinobi was too great, then the plan was flawed in the very roots of it.
Too early yet, for her to know. She wondered if she could get Naruto to let it wait, even for a week, so that there was more time to devote to looking into a solution that pleased more people. The mood in the last meeting had been ugly, and once Hanabi had spoken, it had gotten worse. It bothered her that so many would listen to her sister, simply because the other side had Naruto speaking for it.
She had never been able to understand that. Naruto always did what he thought was best for everyone. Hinata had never seen someone who cared as much as he did. Something she did her best to emulate-and how better than by teaching the children who would carry their future?
Hokage-sama’s guards greeted her with respectful nods of their heads as she entered the building with quiet confidence. This, at least, no longer made her worry. Her welcome here was always assured.
She took a second to compose herself before stepping into Hokage-sama’s office. Naruto was already there-a bright, golden man with a smile that melted her heart, and he shot that smile at her.
“Hinata-chan!” he said, kicking a chair out for her to sit. “You’re just in time.”
She was early, of course, but he always said that. It was part of the routine. “So are you,” Hinata said, taking the offered seat and smiling back at him. “It’d be a shame if you were late.” Quiet teasing, but he laughed and it warmed her.
They talked for fifteen minutes or so before Hokage-sama joined him, yawning behind one hand, as she summarily kicked Naruto out of her chair, reclaimed it and leveled a glance at him that made him change his mind about protesting.
“To order,” Tsunade-sama said dryly, leaning back in her chair with a groan. “As much as we ever get around here. Hinata-san, you mentioned last time that you were looking into further research on this topic-can you update us as to your current findings?”
She straightened, bolstered by the way Naruto was giving her his full attention, and began outlining what she’d found so far. She’d tuck her recommendation for more time to be given somewhere in the middle.
If Hokage-sama agreed with her, then she had a better chance at getting Naruto to go along with her. That too, was strategy.
-0-
This was, she thought viciously, looking outwardly completely calm, all Konohamaru’s fault. Hanabi didn’t like theatre. The costumes were silly, the storylines even worse, and from what she understood this one was supposed to be romantic.
Hanabi didn’t have the time for that. All of her protests when he’d shown up with a determined glint in his eye earlier that day had fallen on deaf ears, and she wasn’t going to sink so low as to have her men throw him out. She valued his friendship too much for that. She didn’t have many friends left.
Successfully resisting the urge to tug at her dress-why couldn’t she have worn a kimono? It was traditional-Hanabi leaned over and hissed in his ear. “People are going to think we’re dating, you idiot.”
The smile on her face didn’t waver, even though her tone of voice expressed her displeasure quite eloquently. Appearances, after all, had to be kept, now that she was here, she had to look happy. She didn't feel happy though, she wanted to... to... hit things. Anything. Taking out her temper on Konohamaru and his stupid plan sounded good to her.
"So what if they are?" he asked, looking far too amused in her opinion. "We know we're not."
She shook her head, black hair trailing over her shoulders and spared a moment to consider that, yes, perhaps tying it up would have been better sense. Enough clips and surely the elastic would’ve held through one play. Too late now, and not particularly traditional either. "Does your flavour of the week know that?"
"I'd be more offended," Konohamaru told her, after laughing. "If I didn't know you were just saying that to get a rise out of me."
"What are we here for again?" she asked, resigned and ignoring his comments. It was beneath a Hyuuga, after all, to admit to something like that. "I don't even like theatre."
"Don't play stupid," he said easily, almost casually draping one arm over her stiff shoulders. "You know why we're here. To get you seen so people can get a better idea of what you're like."
While she appreciated the fact that he took the care enough to not trap her hair, Hanabi was not particularly amused by the touchy-feeling show he was putting on. "By making me watch something that I dislike?" Her smile never wavered, but only an idiot would be able to ignore the threat implicit in her low voice. "It'd be far more like me to Jyuuken you for being an idiot and stalk out before the show ever started."
She wouldn't though. Her father had taught her better manners than that, even if the idea was quite nice to contemplate as he left his arm where it was and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand. The chairs were cool, his hand was hot. She cared for neither.
"You won't," he said, sounding so sure that Hanabi wished she could lower herself to his level and prove him wrong. "Too much pride, so you'll sit here, smiling and muttering threats and then we'll go get dinner at that cafe down the street and you'll smile through that too."
She resisted the urge to shrug him off of her, keeping her posture straight and her face serene. He was right, of course, but that did not mean she had to like it. "The difference," she murmured, "is that I actually do like that cafe."
"You could always spend the time with your team," he said mildly, "if it distresses you so much to spend the time with me."
Her team. A laugh that was closer to a moan caught in her throat. "Behind on the news, are you?" Hanabi said, striving for nonchalance, and sounding a little brittle, a little hurt, as she tucked one bit of hair that was particularly annoying behind an ear. "My team is dead." And she hadn’t been there.
His hand tightened on her shoulder. "When?" Konohamaru asked, his lips barely moving. This, unlike his usual teasing, wasn't something to make light off.
This was a conversation that would be better off behind closed doors. Hanabi shivered, cold from more than the chairs now. "A few days ago," she said, staring at the stage. "Ambushed on a routine courier mission. The funerals are on Monday."
He was staring at her. Hanabi refused to look his way. The idiot was going to draw attention to them, more attention than the simple fact that she, Hyuuga Hanabi, head of the most prominent Clan in Konoha was managing just by attending a stupid play.
So she stuck to the bare minimum and let him fill in the blanks. That way, it didn’t sound so bad. She could just pretend that it was something that had happened to someone else, didn’t have to think about the fact that she was losing her supports quicker than she’d ever thought about it.
It wasn’t as if she’d been as close to Maki and Tomoe as Hinata was to her Inuzuka and Aburame, and Hideki-sensei hadn’t been a replacement for either of her parents. They’d been her team though, and that wasn’t something that was easily replaced either.
She’d miss them. Maki talking too loud, too fast, always moving. Tomoe quieter, but not shy about speaking his opinion and a wicked tongue when the mood took him. The way that Hideki-sensei had of telling them what they did wrong after a mission, and then telling them, just as fairly, what they’d done right. Hanabi couldn’t afford the time to mourn. This, at least, was politically motivated. No time for anything but to keep moving forward.
“I’m fine,” she told him, before he could open his mouth and say something that’d no doubt sink into her thoughts and annoy her. Hanabi hesitated. “I’m going to the funerals,” she said, almost hesitantly. “Did you want to come with me?”
It’d be public, she’d be seen. The fact that it made her highly uncomfortable to contemplate that was secondary-she had to apologize for not being there, with them, to help. Another teammate might have made all the difference. Now she’d never know.
“Of course I’ll come,” he said, with another squeeze of her shoulder. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
Right. “Be quiet,” she hissed, glad for a distraction, glad for an excuse to stop talking as the theatre lights dimmed and slowly the curtain started to rise. “It’s starting.”
They settled back to watch the play, and Hanabi didn’t protest at his arm remaining around her shoulders. A little bit of comfort, snatched where no one could guess.
It would do.
-0-
It was too quiet.
Inuzuka homes, in his opinion, should never be too quiet. But it always was since six months ago, and Hana had died while out on a mission. His mother had Hana’s dog tags, and never let them out of her sight. For him though, even with all the dogs, all the usual noises, just the fact that there was one less person in the building made him acutely aware of the fact that it was, in his opinion, far too quiet.
So Kiba talked more. The fact that Hana wasn't going to answer back, give him another tip on how to better take care of Akamaru, or any of the dogs really, or the fact that she wouldn't be there to bitch about his cooking skills (but if his were poor, then hers were--had been--worse) while eating it anyway. Talking helped fill the gaps. Healthier too, than drinking.
"Don’t whine," Kiba said, to Akamaru as they finished up their run, slowing down and bounding up the steps of their house with easy confidence that the somewhat rickety looking deck could hold the both of them. "You’ll get fed soon enough." Easy words. Too bad there weren’t more of them.
That earned him a joyful bark, and Kiba couldn't help the quiet laugh as he let Akamaru in, though the fact that there was no answering laugh bothered him more than he'd ever say out loud. He continued his talking, just recounting his day, as he stripped off his jacket, remembering to hang it up this time, while Akamaru barreled on ahead.
A moan came from his mother’s bedroom. He paused, backtracked, and rapped sharply on the doorframe before pushing the door open. The smell hit him first-old alcohol, stale sweat, puke and dog. It didn’t matter how often he cleaned, every day it wound up smelling the same. His mother was sprawled, limbs loose, out on the floor, shaking her head slowly and looking too bleary-eyed to be his mother. But she was.
Inuzuka Tsume had always enjoyed a good drink, but since the death of her daughter, her heir, she’d been a wreck more days than not, lost in a foggy stupor brought on by too much booze. Kiba kept talking as he bullied her into sitting up properly-the moan must have come from her falling off the low-slung couch-and stood over her to make sure she drank enough water to keep alcohol poisoning at bay for a while longer. He talked to her, told her about the weather, about the rumours, about the way that Hana wouldn’t like to see her like this.
She wouldn’t talk to him. Ignoring him, though the comments about Hana got a feral growl. A huddled bag of misery, wrapped up in her own pain, and the bottle. He left her too it, cracking a window open to help the room air out. Kiba made a note to go in, once she was asleep, to clean a bit.
He talked to fill the silence, to hide the grief, to keep from thinking. Some things you couldn’t tell your teammates. He hadn’t yet, though they knew Hana had died, had stood with him at her funeral, and held him when he’d gotten drunk-the only time he’d touched a drink since then-and cried. This though, this slow destruction of everything his family had been, he couldn’t find the words for. And Hinata was busy; Shino was too. They had their own families to deal with. Especially the law issue… so he lied, and never mentioned it. Anger could hide so many things, and he’d been angry enough lately.
This was his problem, and he didn’t know what to do with it.
Kiba didn’t notice the way Akamaru paused, stared through one of the screen doors, hackles raised for a few moments before whining a little, a small noise, and padded after him. One hand drifted down to rub Akamaru’s ears.
Kiba talked because the quiet was killing him.
-0-
Previous Chapter // Chapter Listing // Next Chapter
Chapter: 03 The Outside
Author: Killaurey
Word Count: 4135
Summary: [AU/Futurefic] Hanabi and Hinata have never gotten along, living side by side, as strangers rather than sisters. When their father dies, Hanabi is left in control of the Clan: just in time to deal with a highly sensitive political issue that may rip Konoha apart. And to make things worse, Hinata chooses to be on the opposite side of the same issue…
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. Part 3 of ? Unbeta’d.
-0-
Pale crisp paper the consistency of parchment, dark green trim and a seal that was black. Single page letters, with no envelope, just folded three times and seal with wax. They heralded news that no shinobi ever wanted to get, and yet got far too often. Three letters, all reading more or less the same, found their way to Hanabi’s desk in the early evening dusk.
She quietly thanked the servant for bringing them to her, dismissed him, and locked the door tight. It did not matter that, in the Hyuuga Compound, anyone who was using the Byakugan would be able to see her anyway. It was the point of the thing. She needed the door locked.
Her hands didn’t tremble, she felt enclosed in ice and drew that feeling of disconnect around her even tighter. Three of them, all at once. A childish part of her wanted to protest that it wasn’t fair and that if maybe she didn’t open the letters that their news would just disappear.
Hanabi ignored that futile wish and carefully, one after the other, opened the letters:
NOTIFICATION OF DEATH
Shinobi Registration No.: 007612
Name: Senju Hideki
Rank: Jounin
Memorial Date: 05/17
NOTIFICATION OF DEATH
Shinobi Registration No.: 013068
Name: Morikawa Maki
Rank: Chuunin
Memorial Date: 05/17
NOTIFICATION OF DEATH
Shinobi Registration No.: 013090
Name: Arata Tomoe
Rank: Chuunin
Memorial Date: 05/17
Cold news, with no words of comfort. The thin sheets of paper were altogether too brittle for the news they bore. Hanabi carefully smoothed them out on her desk-her father’s desk-and took a deep breath. She would not disgrace herself, not even in the privacy of her own home.
Another breath. Then another. In and out, carefully regulated, each inhale and exhale letting her carefully put back together the cracks in her composure.
It looked like she wouldn’t be asking her team’s opinion of the law change after all.
That night, though she retired early to bed, Hanabi barely slept at all.
-0-
The slow burn deep in his muscles was a pleasant counter-point to the brisk wind that was blowing through the compound. He sank into a Jyuuken stance, centering himself with hardly a thought, and then flowed into movement.
Early morning practice, so early in fact that the area was empty but for him. Neji preferred it that way, though he knew that either of his cousins would likely be the next to join him. It was almost an unspoken agreement (insofar as they ever came to agree on anything) that if one was here, that the other would not be.
For the moment, however, he brushed the thoughts away and devoted himself to his forms.
Nearly an hour later, sweat soaked and breathing slightly ragged-he was pushing himself more than he would out in the field-Neji was starting to wind down his practice. It only made good sense, to work harder here. The more he could take now, the more he could handle if it came down to it out on missions. He was mildly amused, though, to note that he’d been wrong about either of his cousins joining him.
While Hanabi-sama was now exempt from missions-the head of their Clan was far too important to risk on the daily dangers that were dealt with on duty-Neji knew that he’d be back to active duty soon.
Hinata’s soft footsteps, easily recognized, drew him from his thoughts. Apparently, he’d drawn the final conclusion too quickly. She stood on the edge of the practice area, hair tied back, and looking quietly serene. He noticed she was dressed for the Academy already.
“Good morning, Hinata-sama,” he said, with a tilt of his head, coming up out of the stance with a twist of his hips and settling his balance evenly.
“Neji-niisan,” she said, smiling in the early morning light. “Your form is fine today.”
The ghost of a smile crossed his lips at that, it was a mild compliment, but that was her way. Gushing and squealing wouldn’t have been her, and for that he was glad. It was annoying. “I’m sure your form is as well,” he offered, feeling it was a pittance of a reply, but knowing it would be enough for her.
It was.
“Not too bad,” she agreed quietly. “I did a bit of warming up in the north area. I thought, perhaps, Hanabi would join you today?”
“I’ve seen no sign of Hyuuga-sama,” he said, tone even-the sort of voice that let little thought through. He’d heard from the servants that Hanabi had received a few letters and gone to bed early the night before. For all of that, he didn’t care for feeling as if Hinata were fishing for information. It didn’t suit her. It was that pique that had him leaving out a bit of what he knew. “She retired to her rooms early last night, and has not left them as far as I have heard. If you cared to see her, I am sure you could gain entrance.”
His words were surer than his thoughts at that one. Hanabi had always been touchy when it came to her older sister. Hm. He’d have to check with the servants to make sure that Hanabi was still there. Hyuuga-sama now, or not, she was still sixteen and her rebellious moods had never been entirely tamed.
She was cold; no doubt about that, but she was also less malleable and harder to sway than Hinata. In that, Hanabi reminded him the most of her father, his uncle. Neji glanced at Hinata. “Was there something that Hyuuga-sama would have wanted to talk to me about?”
The phrasing of her question was interesting.
“I only wondered,” she said, colouring slightly. “You’d know better than I, of course.”
Empty words. They both knew that he spent more time than she did around Hanabi. He didn’t fall for it, but didn’t give anything away either. Neji studied her for a long moment-long enough that her veneer of calm cracked slightly-before nodding and walking towards her.
“Was there something you wanted to discuss then?”
She looked mildly taken aback at his directness. Neji pretended he didn’t notice that while reaching for a soft towel to drape over his shoulders and wipe his face with. It was a small bit of decorum. Hinata always responded better if you gave her the time to gather herself, Hanabi did better straight on. It was a distinction, yet another one, that he made and filed away in his thoughts.
Hinata straightened her shoulders, perhaps feeling his gaze on her, and raised her chin slightly. “I wished to know your opinion on the law proposed to raise the age of graduation from twelve to fourteen.”
Neji sighed. He’d expected something like that, and had begun to hope that neither of the two would ask.
“I can’t answer,” he said, almost regretfully. Hanabi had not asked him, and he doubted she would. “Not that.”
Her eyes bored into him, outwardly placid but the fact that she was displeased was clear to his senses. “May I ask why not, Neji-niisan? Has my sister ordered you to-“
He raised one hand; that was a trail of thought he didn’t need occurring to either of them. It would only cause more division, and that was the last thing he wanted. “My mind is my own,” he said severely, “and neither Hyuuga-sama, or yourself, Hinata-sama, can prevent me from my having my own thoughts and keeping my own counsel. But I’ll not air them for either of you.”
Though if Hanabi, Hyuuga-sama, ever ordered it, he would have no choice but to obey. Discretion led him to not mention that. Neji thought, though, that Hanabi had a better sense of why he’d not yet said anything either way. That too, was provided decorum.
Hinata was still looking at him.
Neji picked up a canteen and nearly drained it dry of water before giving her more of an answer. “Hyuuga does not need more turmoil at this point,” he said, picking and choosing his words carefully. “My position is that the Clan first needs to come to a consensus as to the public opinion on this movement. The fact that you and Hyuuga-sama are on opposing sides brings disquiet not just to Konoha, but also within the Clan. I will not exacerbate it and come between the two of you.”
“You support her in public,” Hinata said, her voice controlled.
“I don’t,” he disagreed, though mildly. “Nor do I support your position in public. Hyuuga-sama speaks for the Clan, and as I am part of that same Clan, it would be ill-advised to break rank publicly. My opinions, I am afraid, are my own.” And would stay that way. “I only do both of you the kindness of remaining silent.”
“I will see you later,” he said, presuming that his words would put an end to that line of thinking for a least long enough for him to shower. With another slight nod of his head, Neji left, and could feel her staring after him the whole way.
-0-
Her head ached, her hands were cramping from writing too long and too hard, and the stack of notes she had amassed on her desk were a good start, Hinata judged, but only that. Pushing back her chair, stretching her spine and feeling the crack and pull of the muscles as they moved for the first time in hours, she lay her pen down.
A glance at the clock proved it was, already, the next day-she’d worked through the night again-and that there was just enough time to grab something to eat before she had a meeting with Hokage-sama and Naruto. Discussing the next move for the legislation.
Too early, she thought, for anything to be done. Public opinion had to be gauged more accurately before they’d know how best to spin the next meeting. Hinata sighed, stepped over to the small window and opened it, letting fresh air into the small room. It was warm out, already, but she left her jacket on.
Konoha was already active, shinobi darting over roof-tops on their way to (or even, she thought, from) the mission desks, heading out, getting back in. Civilians were hustling their children to school, opening stands, doing laundry. Another day.
The sun shone brightly.
With a sigh-one borne from a combination of pleasure at the beauty of the day, and from the headache that echoed dully in her temples from neglecting her sleep-she grabbed a brush from her desk, ran it through her hair a few times, appearances were important, and headed out. A few quick seals in addition to a key had the door locked behind her good and tight.
Outside it was even nicer. Hinata bowed to the weather, unzipping her jacket a few inches, just enough for more ventilation, and reveled in the feel of the wind against her face. It was a time for new beginnings.
A time for change.
Her smile faded slightly, though she still returned the greetings of those who recognized her on her way, and she thought about that. Change, yes, but at what cost? Her research hadn’t yielded anything yet that could say definitively one way or another if she was right, or if Shino did, in fact, have a point.
It was the right thing to do, this law, changing the age of graduation, but Shino seldom misspoke himself. If the strain put on the other shinobi was too great, then the plan was flawed in the very roots of it.
Too early yet, for her to know. She wondered if she could get Naruto to let it wait, even for a week, so that there was more time to devote to looking into a solution that pleased more people. The mood in the last meeting had been ugly, and once Hanabi had spoken, it had gotten worse. It bothered her that so many would listen to her sister, simply because the other side had Naruto speaking for it.
She had never been able to understand that. Naruto always did what he thought was best for everyone. Hinata had never seen someone who cared as much as he did. Something she did her best to emulate-and how better than by teaching the children who would carry their future?
Hokage-sama’s guards greeted her with respectful nods of their heads as she entered the building with quiet confidence. This, at least, no longer made her worry. Her welcome here was always assured.
She took a second to compose herself before stepping into Hokage-sama’s office. Naruto was already there-a bright, golden man with a smile that melted her heart, and he shot that smile at her.
“Hinata-chan!” he said, kicking a chair out for her to sit. “You’re just in time.”
She was early, of course, but he always said that. It was part of the routine. “So are you,” Hinata said, taking the offered seat and smiling back at him. “It’d be a shame if you were late.” Quiet teasing, but he laughed and it warmed her.
They talked for fifteen minutes or so before Hokage-sama joined him, yawning behind one hand, as she summarily kicked Naruto out of her chair, reclaimed it and leveled a glance at him that made him change his mind about protesting.
“To order,” Tsunade-sama said dryly, leaning back in her chair with a groan. “As much as we ever get around here. Hinata-san, you mentioned last time that you were looking into further research on this topic-can you update us as to your current findings?”
She straightened, bolstered by the way Naruto was giving her his full attention, and began outlining what she’d found so far. She’d tuck her recommendation for more time to be given somewhere in the middle.
If Hokage-sama agreed with her, then she had a better chance at getting Naruto to go along with her. That too, was strategy.
-0-
This was, she thought viciously, looking outwardly completely calm, all Konohamaru’s fault. Hanabi didn’t like theatre. The costumes were silly, the storylines even worse, and from what she understood this one was supposed to be romantic.
Hanabi didn’t have the time for that. All of her protests when he’d shown up with a determined glint in his eye earlier that day had fallen on deaf ears, and she wasn’t going to sink so low as to have her men throw him out. She valued his friendship too much for that. She didn’t have many friends left.
Successfully resisting the urge to tug at her dress-why couldn’t she have worn a kimono? It was traditional-Hanabi leaned over and hissed in his ear. “People are going to think we’re dating, you idiot.”
The smile on her face didn’t waver, even though her tone of voice expressed her displeasure quite eloquently. Appearances, after all, had to be kept, now that she was here, she had to look happy. She didn't feel happy though, she wanted to... to... hit things. Anything. Taking out her temper on Konohamaru and his stupid plan sounded good to her.
"So what if they are?" he asked, looking far too amused in her opinion. "We know we're not."
She shook her head, black hair trailing over her shoulders and spared a moment to consider that, yes, perhaps tying it up would have been better sense. Enough clips and surely the elastic would’ve held through one play. Too late now, and not particularly traditional either. "Does your flavour of the week know that?"
"I'd be more offended," Konohamaru told her, after laughing. "If I didn't know you were just saying that to get a rise out of me."
"What are we here for again?" she asked, resigned and ignoring his comments. It was beneath a Hyuuga, after all, to admit to something like that. "I don't even like theatre."
"Don't play stupid," he said easily, almost casually draping one arm over her stiff shoulders. "You know why we're here. To get you seen so people can get a better idea of what you're like."
While she appreciated the fact that he took the care enough to not trap her hair, Hanabi was not particularly amused by the touchy-feeling show he was putting on. "By making me watch something that I dislike?" Her smile never wavered, but only an idiot would be able to ignore the threat implicit in her low voice. "It'd be far more like me to Jyuuken you for being an idiot and stalk out before the show ever started."
She wouldn't though. Her father had taught her better manners than that, even if the idea was quite nice to contemplate as he left his arm where it was and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand. The chairs were cool, his hand was hot. She cared for neither.
"You won't," he said, sounding so sure that Hanabi wished she could lower herself to his level and prove him wrong. "Too much pride, so you'll sit here, smiling and muttering threats and then we'll go get dinner at that cafe down the street and you'll smile through that too."
She resisted the urge to shrug him off of her, keeping her posture straight and her face serene. He was right, of course, but that did not mean she had to like it. "The difference," she murmured, "is that I actually do like that cafe."
"You could always spend the time with your team," he said mildly, "if it distresses you so much to spend the time with me."
Her team. A laugh that was closer to a moan caught in her throat. "Behind on the news, are you?" Hanabi said, striving for nonchalance, and sounding a little brittle, a little hurt, as she tucked one bit of hair that was particularly annoying behind an ear. "My team is dead." And she hadn’t been there.
His hand tightened on her shoulder. "When?" Konohamaru asked, his lips barely moving. This, unlike his usual teasing, wasn't something to make light off.
This was a conversation that would be better off behind closed doors. Hanabi shivered, cold from more than the chairs now. "A few days ago," she said, staring at the stage. "Ambushed on a routine courier mission. The funerals are on Monday."
He was staring at her. Hanabi refused to look his way. The idiot was going to draw attention to them, more attention than the simple fact that she, Hyuuga Hanabi, head of the most prominent Clan in Konoha was managing just by attending a stupid play.
So she stuck to the bare minimum and let him fill in the blanks. That way, it didn’t sound so bad. She could just pretend that it was something that had happened to someone else, didn’t have to think about the fact that she was losing her supports quicker than she’d ever thought about it.
It wasn’t as if she’d been as close to Maki and Tomoe as Hinata was to her Inuzuka and Aburame, and Hideki-sensei hadn’t been a replacement for either of her parents. They’d been her team though, and that wasn’t something that was easily replaced either.
She’d miss them. Maki talking too loud, too fast, always moving. Tomoe quieter, but not shy about speaking his opinion and a wicked tongue when the mood took him. The way that Hideki-sensei had of telling them what they did wrong after a mission, and then telling them, just as fairly, what they’d done right. Hanabi couldn’t afford the time to mourn. This, at least, was politically motivated. No time for anything but to keep moving forward.
“I’m fine,” she told him, before he could open his mouth and say something that’d no doubt sink into her thoughts and annoy her. Hanabi hesitated. “I’m going to the funerals,” she said, almost hesitantly. “Did you want to come with me?”
It’d be public, she’d be seen. The fact that it made her highly uncomfortable to contemplate that was secondary-she had to apologize for not being there, with them, to help. Another teammate might have made all the difference. Now she’d never know.
“Of course I’ll come,” he said, with another squeeze of her shoulder. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
Right. “Be quiet,” she hissed, glad for a distraction, glad for an excuse to stop talking as the theatre lights dimmed and slowly the curtain started to rise. “It’s starting.”
They settled back to watch the play, and Hanabi didn’t protest at his arm remaining around her shoulders. A little bit of comfort, snatched where no one could guess.
It would do.
-0-
It was too quiet.
Inuzuka homes, in his opinion, should never be too quiet. But it always was since six months ago, and Hana had died while out on a mission. His mother had Hana’s dog tags, and never let them out of her sight. For him though, even with all the dogs, all the usual noises, just the fact that there was one less person in the building made him acutely aware of the fact that it was, in his opinion, far too quiet.
So Kiba talked more. The fact that Hana wasn't going to answer back, give him another tip on how to better take care of Akamaru, or any of the dogs really, or the fact that she wouldn't be there to bitch about his cooking skills (but if his were poor, then hers were--had been--worse) while eating it anyway. Talking helped fill the gaps. Healthier too, than drinking.
"Don’t whine," Kiba said, to Akamaru as they finished up their run, slowing down and bounding up the steps of their house with easy confidence that the somewhat rickety looking deck could hold the both of them. "You’ll get fed soon enough." Easy words. Too bad there weren’t more of them.
That earned him a joyful bark, and Kiba couldn't help the quiet laugh as he let Akamaru in, though the fact that there was no answering laugh bothered him more than he'd ever say out loud. He continued his talking, just recounting his day, as he stripped off his jacket, remembering to hang it up this time, while Akamaru barreled on ahead.
A moan came from his mother’s bedroom. He paused, backtracked, and rapped sharply on the doorframe before pushing the door open. The smell hit him first-old alcohol, stale sweat, puke and dog. It didn’t matter how often he cleaned, every day it wound up smelling the same. His mother was sprawled, limbs loose, out on the floor, shaking her head slowly and looking too bleary-eyed to be his mother. But she was.
Inuzuka Tsume had always enjoyed a good drink, but since the death of her daughter, her heir, she’d been a wreck more days than not, lost in a foggy stupor brought on by too much booze. Kiba kept talking as he bullied her into sitting up properly-the moan must have come from her falling off the low-slung couch-and stood over her to make sure she drank enough water to keep alcohol poisoning at bay for a while longer. He talked to her, told her about the weather, about the rumours, about the way that Hana wouldn’t like to see her like this.
She wouldn’t talk to him. Ignoring him, though the comments about Hana got a feral growl. A huddled bag of misery, wrapped up in her own pain, and the bottle. He left her too it, cracking a window open to help the room air out. Kiba made a note to go in, once she was asleep, to clean a bit.
He talked to fill the silence, to hide the grief, to keep from thinking. Some things you couldn’t tell your teammates. He hadn’t yet, though they knew Hana had died, had stood with him at her funeral, and held him when he’d gotten drunk-the only time he’d touched a drink since then-and cried. This though, this slow destruction of everything his family had been, he couldn’t find the words for. And Hinata was busy; Shino was too. They had their own families to deal with. Especially the law issue… so he lied, and never mentioned it. Anger could hide so many things, and he’d been angry enough lately.
This was his problem, and he didn’t know what to do with it.
Kiba didn’t notice the way Akamaru paused, stared through one of the screen doors, hackles raised for a few moments before whining a little, a small noise, and padded after him. One hand drifted down to rub Akamaru’s ears.
Kiba talked because the quiet was killing him.
-0-
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