I was wheezing for air, sprawled flat on my back on the packed dirt of Training Ground 7, my lungs burning like I'd inhaled liquid fire. Every breath was a struggle, each inhale sending sharp spikes of agony radiating through my ribcage. I was almost certain, no, I was completely certain, that Kakashi's sandal had just left a permanent dent in my ribs in the exact pattern of his sole. I could probably trace the outline of the tread if I had the energy to lift my shirt and look.
I didn't. I was too busy trying to remember how to breathe like a normal human being instead of a dying fish.
The first two weeks of Team 7's formation had been horrendous.
No, that wasn't strong enough. Horrendous was too mild, too polite. It had been a special kind of hell, the kind that left you questioning your life choices and wondering if maybe, just maybe, the Genin Corps wouldn't have been so bad after all.
Kakashi had run the three of us ragged. Every single day, from dawn until we could barely stand, he'd drilled us without mercy. Taijutsu sparring that left us black and blue. Endurance runs that had Neji, stoic, unflappable Neji, bent over and dry-heaving into the bushes. Coordination exercises that required split-second timing and left no room for error, because error meant pain.
And the pain. Oh, the pain was constant.
Neji always lagged behind in stamina. His Byakugan gave him an edge in precision and awareness, but his overall physical strength was less than mine and Naruko's, and it showed. I'd lost count of how many times I'd seen him stumble during drills, his legs shaking from exhaustion, his face drawn tight with the effort of just staying upright.
But he never quit, and never asked for a break. The bastard had more pride than sense, and that was saying something coming from me.
Naruko fared better, but only marginally. Her reserves and stamina were absurd as usual thanks to being an Uzumaki and the fox sealed inside her, but even she had limits. And Kakashi seemed determined to find them. She was currently a few feet away from me, sprawled out on her back with her arms and legs spread wide like a starfish, her chest heaving as she gulped down air. Her face was flushed red, her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, and she looked completely, utterly done.
And me? I was a walking bruise, literally. My entire body was a patchwork of purple, yellow, and green from the constant impacts, kicks, throws, from everything. My medical ninjutsu was the only reason Kakashi could work us this hard, because he knew I could patch us up enough to keep going. Broken bones? Healed. Torn muscles from micro tears? Stitched back together with chakra. Cracked ribs?
Well… Those took a bit longer and Kakashi ended the day's training after I overdid it because of that.
But despite all of it, despite the pain, the exhaustion, and the feeling like my body was actively trying to rebel against me, I loved every second of it.
I couldn't explain it. Maybe there was something fundamentally broken in my brain, some crossed wire that made me enjoy suffering. Or maybe it was just that this kind of pain was clean, straightforward. It wasn't the tangled, suffocating mess of emotions that came with thinking about Itachi, or my dead family, or the fact that I was supposed to be hunting down my brother for revenge but instead I was here, getting the shit kicked out of me by a silver-haired pervert.
This pain had a purpose, which is that it made me stronger.
Whatever Sarutobi had said or done to Kakashi after the bell test seemed to have lit a fire under the man. The lazy, perpetually late jonin who'd spent half our pre-genin training reading smut and making sarcastic comments had been replaced by someone who was somehow even harder on us than Gai had been.
And Gai had made us run laps until we vomited.
I groaned, my vision swimming as I tried to sit up. The world tilted alarmingly to the left, and I had to plant my hand on the ground to keep from toppling over. My ribs screamed in protest, and I hissed through my teeth, my free hand instinctively going to my side.
"Heal the bruise and catch your breath," Kakashi's voice cut through the haze, calm and completely unbothered. I managed to lift my head enough to glare at him through the sweat dripping into my eyes.
He looked fine. Not a hair out of place, and he wasn't even breathing hard. We'd been going at him for hours, and he hadn't even activated his Sharingan. He'd just... toyed with us. He blocked every attack, countered every combo. And sent us sprawling over and over again with the kind of casual efficiency that made it clear he was operating on an entirely different level.
Granted, he had us do endurance training before taijutsu so we'd fight tired, but still.
"Well done, the three of you," he added, his visible eye curving in what I'd learned to recognize as genuine approval.
Neji didn't respond. He was still on the ground a few yards away, flat on his back with his arms splayed out at his sides. His chest was rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths, and his normally pristine clothes were soaked through with sweat and dirt. His Byakugan was deactivated, probably to conserve chakra, and his eyes were closed, his face slack with exhaustion.
Naruko wasn't talking either, having tried to stand steady after being on the ground. She just groaned, a low, pitiful sound that would've been funny if I'd had the energy to laugh. Her legs were trembling, still trying to obey the last command her brain had given them before it shut down to preserve what little sanity she had left.
Then, as if someone had cut her strings, she collapsed.
Not gracefully, and not slowly. She just dropped, her body hitting the ground with a dull thud that I felt through the dirt beneath me. She lay there sprawled out like a ragdoll, arms and legs akimbo, staring up at the sky with the glazed expression of someone who'd just survived a war.
I snorted despite myself, then immediately regretted it when the motion sent another spike of pain through my ribs.
Right. Healing. That was a thing I could do.
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to focus past the exhaustion and the pain. Chakra was sluggish in my coils, thick and heavy like sludge, but I managed to coax enough of it into motion. It flowed down my arm, pooling in my palm as I pressed it against my side, and I formed the seals for the basic diagnostic jutsu with my free hand.
The feedback was immediate; three bruised ribs, significant bruising elsewhere, and some minor internal bleeding that my body was already working to fix on its own. Nothing life-threatening. Just... really inconvenient.
I activated the Mystical Palm technique, and the familiar cold, soothing sensation washed over my side. It felt like ice water on a burn, numbing the sharp edges of the pain and knitting the cracks back together with invisible threads of chakra. I sighed, the sound coming out as more of a wheeze, and let my head fall back against the ground.
We stayed like that for a while. Me healing myself, Neji and Naruko just... existing, barely, and Kakashi standing over us like a particularly smug executioner, probably reading his stupid book even though I couldn't see him from this angle.
The sun was warm on my face. The breeze was cool. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear birds chirping, blissfully unaware of the carnage that had just unfolded in this training ground.
It was almost peaceful.
"Alright," Kakashi's voice shattered the moment like a kunai through glass. "Break's over. On your feet."
I groaned loudly. That… wasn't supposed to be that dramatic sounding. It sounded like the kind of groan that conveyed my soul was trying to escape my body and I was barely holding it in through sheer spite.
"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, but I was already moving, forcing my protesting muscles to obey as I rolled onto my side and pushed myself up onto my hands and knees. My ribs were mostly healed now, enough that I could move without wanting to die, but my legs felt like jelly.
I staggered to my feet, swaying slightly, and turned to Neji. He was still on the ground, his eyes open now but staring blankly at the sky like he was contemplating the futility of existence.
"Up," I said, my voice rough. I reached down and grabbed his arm, hauling him upright with more effort than I wanted to admit.
He groaned, actually groaned, which was a first, but he got his feet under him, leaning on me for support until he could stand on his own.
Naruko, meanwhile, had barely managed to sit up under her own power. She was hunched over, her arms wrapped around her knees, her face buried in her folded arms. Her shoulders were shaking, and for a second I thought she was crying.
Then I heard the muffled, "I hate everything."
Not crying. Just... done with life.
"Come on," I said, walking over to her and nudging her shoulder with my foot. Not hard. I wasn't that cruel. "Get up, goldie. We've got more suffering to endure."
She lifted her head just enough to glare at me, her blue eyes bloodshot and watery. "I'm going to murder him," she muttered, jerking her chin toward Kakashi. "I'm going to wait until he's asleep, and then I'm going to smother him with his stupid book."
"Get in line," Neji said flatly from behind me.
Kakashi, of course, heard all of this. His visible eye curved in amusement. "Maa, so violent. And here I thought we were bonding."
"Bonding," I repeated, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I turned to face him. "Is that what we're calling this? Because I'm pretty sure 'bonding' doesn't usually involve attempted murder."
"Attempted training," Kakashi corrected, snapping his book shut and tucking it back into his pouch. "There's a difference."
"Barely," Naruko grumbled, but she was getting to her feet now, her legs still shaky but functional.
The three of us stood there in a loose line, battered and bruised and tired, facing down the man who'd spent the last two weeks systematically breaking us down and rebuilding us into something sharper, stronger.
Kakashi looked us over, his gaze sweeping from Neji to me to Naruko, and I saw something flicker in his eye. Pride, maybe. Or satisfaction.
"Ready?" he asked, his tone almost cheerful.
I glanced at Neji. Then at Naruko. They both looked as done with this as I felt, but they straightened their postures, falling into their fighting stances with the kind of grim determination that came from knowing there was no escape.
I turned back to Kakashi, cracking my knuckles and rolling my shoulders despite the protests from my still-healing ribs.
"Ready," I said.
And then we moved.
We attacked as one, a coordinated assault born from two weeks of getting our asses handed to us and learning—painfully—how to work together. Neji came in low from the left, his Byakugan active, his fingers already glowing with the telltale blue of the Gentle Fist. Naruko blurred in from the right, and I went straight down the middle, my fist cocked as I closed the distance with a burst of shunshin.
Kakashi's brow raised just a fraction, just enough to tell me we'd surprised him, and then the three of us crashed into him like a tidal wave.
This time, we weren't going down without a fight.
xRSxxRSxxRSx
"Tora, it's Sasuke! C'mere!" I clicked my tongue twice, the sound sharp and clear in the narrow alley, and crouched down to make myself less threatening.
The cat, a big, brown one with a ribbon around its neck and murder in its eyes, darted out from under the dumpster like a furry missile. But instead of running away like it did with literally every other genin team in the village's history, it trotted straight up to me, meowing loudly in what I'd learned to recognize as its version of a greeting.
"Yes, I know you're a beautiful little murderer," I said, my tone shifting into something embarrassingly soft as I patted my thighs. "Now hop up."
Tora didn't need to be told twice. She launched herself into my arms with the kind of trust that most cats reserved for exactly no one, landing with a solid thump against my chest. Immediately, she started purring, a deep rumbling vibration that I could feel through my jacket.
Behind me, I heard Naruko let out a disgruntled noise that was somewhere between a groan and a growl.
"That is so unfair, -ttebayo," she muttered, her arms crossed as she glared at the cat with undisguised jealousy.
Tora's ears flattened against her skull, her head swiveling to fix Naruko with a baleful amber-eyed stare. Then she hissed, the sound low and threatening, her tail lashing like a whip.
I couldn't help it. I smirked.
"Don't listen to the mean girl, Tora," I said, stroking her ears with practiced gentleness. The cat's eyes slid shut in contentment, her purring intensifying. "It's perfectly fair. Now whose a good little monster? You are. You are."
I shifted her weight in my arms, cradling her like the deadly ball of fluff she was, and reached down to poke her exposed belly. It was a test, a sign of trust. Most cats would shred your hand to ribbons for daring such a violation. But Tora just stretched, her claws flexing harmlessly as she leaned into the touch.
"I hate you both," Naruko grumbled, but there was no real heat in it. Just petulant envy.
Neji, who'd been standing off to the side with his arms crossed and an expression of profound boredom etched onto his face, raised his wrist to his mouth. "Kakashi-sensei," he said into the microphone clipped to his ear, his tone flat, "we have the target."
There was a crackle of static, then Kakashi's lazy drawl filtered through the comms. "Already? It's only been ten minutes." A pause. "Hmmm, I think Sasuke can probably be put on retainer for this mission in particular. Speed things up considerably."
"Not interested," I said immediately, still petting Tora. The cat had gone completely limp in my arms, utterly relaxed. "Now let's get you back to the Hokage where your owner's waiting, and we can see each other again next week."
Tora meowed in response, and I chose to interpret it as agreement.
The walk back to the Hokage Tower was uneventful, which was a nice change of pace after two weeks of Kakashi treating us like crash test dummies. Tora remained docile in my arms the entire time, occasionally pawing at my chest or nuzzling against my chin in a way that was almost affectionate. It would've been endearing if I didn't know for a fact that this cat had sent at least three genin teams to the hospital with scratches that required Iryo-ninjutsu to treat.
Naruko walked a few paces behind me, still grumbling under her breath about "stupid cats" and "stupid cat whisperers." Neji brought up the rear, as if we even needed the formation.
We passed through the market district, where vendors were already calling out their wares to the midday crowd. A few civilians glanced our way, probably because of the legendary demon cat I was casually carrying like a house pet, but no one stopped us. They'd seen this dance before. Team 7 catches Tora. Team 7 returns Tora. Tora escapes again within a week. Rinse and repeat.
It was the worst kind of Groundhog Day, and yet somehow, I'd become the only genin in the village who could complete it in under fifteen minutes.
"I still don't understand how you do it," Naruko said eventually, her voice cutting through my thoughts. She'd jogged up to walk beside me, peering at Tora with a mixture of suspicion and awe. "Every other team has to chase her for hours. She scratches them. She bites them. She runs into traffic. But with you?" She gestured at the purring ball of fur in my arms. "She acts like you're her favorite person in the world."
I shrugged, shifting Tora's weight slightly. "Cats like me. What can I say?"
"That's not an explanation!"
"It's the only one you're getting."
Neji made a sound that might've been a suppressed snort, but when I glanced back at him, his face was as impassive as ever.
The truth was simpler than Naruko probably realized. Tora wasn't a demon. She was just a cat who was tired, stressed, and overstimulated from being squeezed like a stuffed toy by an owner who didn't understand boundaries. I'd figured that out the first time we'd been assigned this mission, back when I'd watched the Daimyo's wife smother the poor animal while it yowled in protest.
We reached the Hokage Tower within another ten minutes, climbing the wide stone steps to the main entrance. The ANBU guards flanking the doors didn't even blink as we passed, which I took as a good sign. Either they were used to seeing genin teams hauling Tora back, or they'd mastered the art of not caring.
Probably both.
Inside, the receptionist, a middle-aged woman with her hair pulled back in a severe bun, looked up from her paperwork and immediately groaned.
"Let me guess," she said, her tone resigned. "Tora?"
"Tora," I confirmed, holding up the cat like a trophy.
She sighed, rubbing her temples. "The Daimyo's wife is already upstairs. She's been waiting for the last hour." Her eyes flicked to me, then to the cat, then back to me. "You three are getting a reputation, you know. Fastest Tora retrieval time in village history."
"It's a gift," I said dryly.
"It's a curse," Naruko muttered behind me.
The receptionist ignored her, gesturing toward the staircase. "Try not to let her escape on the way up."
"No promises," I said, but I was already moving, heading for the stairs with Tora still purring contentedly in my arms.
The room was exactly as I remembered it; too large, too formal, and smelling faintly of incense. The Sandaime sat behind his desk, looking every bit the tired grandfather who'd been forced to mediate another pointless dispute. Kakashi lounged against the wall to his left, his nose buried in his book, though I caught the faint curve of his visible eye that suggested he was paying more attention than he let on.
And standing in the center of the room, wringing her hands and looking on the verge of tears, was the Daimyo's wife.
She was a short, plump woman in her fifties, dressed in an elaborate silk kimono that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. Her hair was piled high on her head in an ornate style, held in place by what looked like a small fortune in hairpins, and her makeup was immaculate. She looked like someone who'd never done a hard day's work in her life.
The moment she saw Tora, her face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds.
"Oh, my precious baby!" she shrieked, rushing toward me with her arms outstretched.
Tora's purring stopped immediately. Her ears flattened against her skull, and I felt her entire body go rigid in my arms.
Oh no.
"There you are, my sweet little angel!" the woman cooed, snatching Tora out of my arms before I could even think to protest. She immediately crushed the cat against her chest in a bear hug that looked more like a wrestling move, squeezing so hard I swore I heard Tora's ribs creak. "Mommy was so worried! Don't you ever run away again!"
Tora let out a strangled yowl, her claws scrabbling uselessly against the woman's silk sleeves as she tried to escape. Her amber eyes found mine, wide and accusing, and I felt a pang of guilt so sharp it was almost physical.
I'm sorry, I mouthed.
"Thank you so much, young man!" the Daimyo's wife gushed, somehow managing to squeeze Tora even harder. The cat's struggles were weakening now, her eyes starting to glaze over. "You've brought my baby back to me! How can I ever repay you?"
"By letting the cat breathe," I muttered under my breath, but I pasted on a polite smile. "Just doing our job, ma'am."
She didn't hear me. She was too busy rubbing her face against Tora's fur, making kissy noises that made my skin crawl. Tora, for her part, looked like she was contemplating murder. Or possibly suicide. It was hard to tell at this point.
"Mission accomplished," Kakashi said from his spot against the wall, snapping his book shut. His visible eye curved in amusement as he looked at me. "Well done, Team 7. That's another successful D-rank under your belt."
"Successful," Naruko echoed, her tone incredulous. She was staring at Tora with something that looked suspiciously like pity. "That poor cat."
"Indeed," Neji said quietly, his pale eyes fixed on the Daimyo's wife as she continued to smother her "precious baby." "A fate worse than death."
Sarutobi cleared his throat, drawing our attention back to him. "Your payment will be processed by the end of the day," he said, his tone official but tinged with weariness. "Dismissed."
I didn't need to be told twice. I turned on my heel and headed for the door, Naruko and Neji falling into step behind me. As we left, I caught one last glimpse of Tora, still trapped in her owner's death grip, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling like she'd given up on life entirely.
"See you next week, Tora," I murmured under my breath.
Behind me, Naruko let out a snort. "You're such a weirdo, Sasuke."
"Yeah," I said, pushing open the door and stepping out into the hallway. "But I'm a weirdo who gets paid."
And really, what more could you ask for.
xRSxxRSxxRSx
Neji and I were sitting on the wooden engawa that wrapped around the training courtyard of the Hyuga compound, our legs dangling over the edge as we watched Naruko and Hinata spar in the afternoon sun. The contrast between them was almost comical; Naruko all wild energy and aggressive strikes, her movements explosive and unpredictable, while Hinata moved with the fluid grace of water, her Gentle Fist techniques precise and measured even if they lacked the confidence they should have had when comparing to Neji.
It was strange, really. The blonde Jinchuriki had maintained a surprisingly close and good friendship with the Hyuga girl despite their personalities clashing like fire and ice. But then again, she and male Naruto would have gotten together in that other timeline, so I guessed it made sense in some weird, cosmic way. Maybe it was fate. Or maybe opposites really did attract.
I glanced over at Neji, who sat beside me with his arms crossed and his pale eyes fixed on the sparring match. His expression was the carefully neutral kind he typically had, the mask the Hyuga were so good at maintaining. But I'd spent enough time with him over the last two weeks to read the subtle tells, the slight tightening around his eyes, and the faint downward curl at the corner of his mouth.
Contempt. It was well-disguised, but there nonetheless.
He was watching his cousin move so much slower, so much less precise than he could, and it was eating at him.
"Not enjoying the show?" I asked, keeping my tone casual as I leaned back on my hands.
Neji's head turned slightly, his gaze sliding toward me. He gave me a faint glare, the kind that said I was treading on thin ice but he was willing to tolerate it. For now.
"I won't waste time and repeat the conversation," he said, his voice low and measured, "and you are on my team and made clear your dislike of my justified opinions of Hinata."
"Hardly justified given she's liable to end up an above-average Hyuga shinobi," I shot back, my tone mild but my words sharp. "You're an outlier and we both know it."
His jaw tightened fractionally, but his expression remained carefully controlled. "It is fate that some end up superior to others," he said, offering what I recognized as a non-answer.
I hummed thoughtfully, tilting my head as I considered my next words. "Does your view of fate extend only to the threshold potential of combatants? The lot in life for others?" I paused, letting the question hang for a moment before continuing. "Or would it also extend to someone who could rival Madara drinking some bad milk and dying of dysentery?"
Was I mocking his worldview? A bit, yes. But he was some preteen edgy dipshit whose balls hadn't even dropped yet and had a far too overinflated case of sophomania, yeah, I knew that word, thank you very much, so such abysmal views needed to be contended against for what they were.
Ignoring how hypocritical that sounded coming from me, of course.
Neji's glare intensified, his pale eyes boring into mine with enough force to make a lesser person squirm. But he kept his tone even, controlled, like he was reciting from a script he'd memorized long ago.
"I am stronger than Hinata, and always shall be," he said, each word deliberate. "Had my father been positioned differently before birth, he would have been clan head, I the heir, Hinata a branch member. And my father would still live." His hands clenched into fists on his knees. "That is fate. And I will be expected to protect Hinata with my life, forever a servant because of the circumstances of fate."
I let the silence stretch for a moment, weighing whether I should do this now or later. My mind ran through the calculations, the risks, the potential fallout, the fact that I was about to drop a conversational nuke on a teammate who already had a chip on his shoulder the size of the Hokage Monument.
Internally, I said fuck it and went for it.
"What do you mean your father would still be alive?" I asked, my tone deliberately casual, like I was inquiring about the weather. "He chose to die to protect your uncle."
Neji's entire body went still. Not the relaxed stillness of someone at rest, but the frozen rigidity of a deer that had just heard a wolf's growl. His expression was difficult to read, but his head tilted to face me completely, his pale eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my Sharingan itch to activate.
"Elaborate," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. "Now."
I raised an eyebrow, my expression hardening. "Tone," I warned, willing to tolerate much from my teammates but not the kind of shitty tone you'd use on a particularly stupid servant. "My clan knew about the details of the Hyuga incident because it involved attempted dojutsu theft. And one of those details was that your uncle intended to die as repayment to prevent war." I paused, letting that sink in before delivering the killing blow. "And your father insisted he die instead. So I don't know what you're talking about when it comes to him being fated to die."
I wasn't sure how ruinous it was to one's worldview to hear the truth about something that fundamental. I'd experienced it myself when I learned about Itachi's true motives, the sudden, violent reshaping of everything I'd believed. But I could guess that what I'd just said might have done something vaguely similar to Neji.
The Hyuga's face was an open book for the first time since I'd met him. Shock. Disbelief. Confusion. The carefully constructed mask of stoicism had shattered, revealing the confused and angry twelve-year-old boy underneath.
"Did your uncle not tell you?" I asked, gentler now.
"I... no..." Neji's voice was soft, bordering on weak as he stared at me like I'd just told him the sky was green. "He... didn't say that."
"Then you need to speak with him," I said firmly. "I overheard my parents talk about it when it was going on, and my father spoke of the respect he had for choosing to save family."
That was all a lie. There had been a bit of a fuss and concern at the time, plus me and other kids not being allowed to play outside without supervision for a couple days, but nothing about the actual decision Hizashi had made. My parents had kept those details behind closed doors, away from curious ears.
But Neji didn't know that. And judging by the way his hands were trembling now, fists clenched so tight his knuckles had gone white, the lie had landed exactly as I'd intended.
I may have overdone it though, because Neji looked extremely upset. His breathing was uneven, his jaw working like he was trying to form words but couldn't quite manage it.
"If you need to, go ahead and leave to speak with your uncle," I said, keeping my voice calm and measured. "He obviously didn't explain it correctly, and that's on him."
Neji stood abruptly, the movement jerky and uncoordinated in a way that was so unlike him it was almost alarming. Without a word, he turned and walked quickly, almost running, toward the main building that housed Hinata and the main family.
I watched him go, my expression carefully neutral, and felt a pang of guilt twist in my chest.
This had been a scheme of mine for months, something I'd been planning ever since I'd realized we might end up on the same team. Neji was too good of a fighter to let some stupid notion of fate twist his internal philosophy and make him think of himself as a slave to others. He deserved better than that.
But it was also selfishness on my part. The thought of someone playing to the strings of another because of belief in an untruth burned at me in ways I couldn't fully articulate. For obvious reasons.
Out in the courtyard, Hinata and Naruko had stopped sparring. They were both staring after Neji, their expressions concerned as they watched him disappear into the main house. They exchanged a brief conversation, too quiet for me to hear from this distance, before making their way over to where I sat.
Hinata was the first to speak, her voice quiet and laced with worry. "Is Neji alright?" She sat down beside me, her fingers tapping together nervously in that habitual gesture of hers. "He looks upset."
The sadness in her tone at that last part made something in my chest soften despite myself.
Damn was Neji an asshole at first, but his cousin was such a sweetheart.
Naruko plopped down on my other side, less graceful but just as concerned. Her blue eyes were fixed on the main house, her brow furrowed. "Did something happen? He looked really mad."
"That's something for him to share," I said carefully, choosing my words with precision. "I said something that he didn't know, and, well... wait a few days and ask your father." I looked at Hinata as I said that last part, making it clear this was a family matter.
I decided not to intrude further or have Hinata do so, and Naruko was right here listening, so broadcasting the details would have been inappropriate. This was a very personal and upsetting situation, and Neji deserved the privacy to process it.
Hinata's fingers stilled, and she nodded slowly, though her expression remained troubled. "I... I understand."
Naruko, on the other hand, looked like she wanted to press further, her mouth opening as if to ask another question. But she caught my eye and seemed to read something there, because she closed her mouth and just huffed.
"Fine," she muttered, crossing her arms. "But if he needs help, he better ask."
I didn't respond to that. I just turned my gaze back to the courtyard, watching the shadows lengthen as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
Whatever happened next was up to Neji. I'd done my part. Now it was time to see if the truth would set him free or drag him deeper.
End chapter:
I'm posting on other sites that are currently further ahead.
I now have a dirty p word WN doesn't like, under Raging Smurf, with multiple chapters ahead for Indelible, and Inevitable. Feel free to get chapters ahead there.