Fingers twined through his slightly damp hair as Hyuuga Neji pondered interpersonal relationships. After long and careful consideration and much observation, Neji still had not quite come to a conclusion concerning his situation.

His subjects (Hinata, Sakura, Lee, and Naruto) all provided fruitful information, but nothing that was particularly applicable to him, and while it did not concern him, it did irritate him.

His cousin seemed to adore Naruto - fainting in his presence, losing her breath at his very words, and blushing as though she were still the same shy little girl she'd been in their childhood – this data was was immediately rejected and labeled as useless to his research. Hinata was still infatuated like a schoolgirl. Not applicable to himself.

Lee's adoration of Sakura had obviously been one-sided. He often played games with himself to see if he could win her affections. Far more often than not, his unnoticed attempts at winning her were abysmal failures, but even the slightest acknowledgement kept his spirits up. He believed his youth and presence would be all it took to win her, even after years of almost absent-minded rejection on her part. Neji also discarded this. He was no fawning admirer, and he most certainly was no idealist.

Naruto's situation was more similar to his own. Since he had returned, Haruno's attention was more favorable toward the Uzumaki than he had noticed previously, and although she kunoichi seemed to assume his affection was nothing more than platonic, Neji's time watching had shown him otherwise. What was useful was Naruto's deep friendship with the object of his slightly-hidden admiration. Naruto was unsure of his feelings. Neji could relate far better to his situation than to Lee's or Hinata's.

Sakura, whom he had gotten to know better after she had become chuunin, and had even completed a mission or two with, did not seem to be a particularly useful subject either – but then he began to really notice the little things. While it was quieter with the Uchiha away, Neji slowly began to see, thanks to occasional comments spouted by Tenten or complaint voiced by Lee, the far more perceptive and sensitive ones respectively, the quiet way her head tilted to the left when she missed her errant lover. He noted the way she blinked sometimes to her left or right, as if dazed, or expecting something that was not there. To Neji's knowledge, her adoration was unreciprocated in so many words- but her affection was palpable, if carefully watched and compared to her usual behavior, especially as they grew older.

It was the sudden blankness in her eyes that Neji was interested in, when someone brought up a story from the past. Or a laughing comment swallowed suddenly as she realized nobody was there to hear it. The sadness she felt, the jabs of loss, like the bite of a quick kunai, was slightly less alien to him.

It was because of her, Sakura, that he began to unravel himself.

His own feelings were not that of 'youthful blossoms', such as Lee's were, or the overwhelming romanticism of Hinata's, but embodied a more content nature. And as the winds of the plain blew through his hair as he rested his tired head in Tenten's lap, he felt it, the contentment of her presence.

Her fingers tangled within a knot in his locks, far longer than hers, interrupting his thoughts, and reacted, suddenly, unthinkingly. He shot out an arm to capture her fingers, her scarred ones fumbling with his smoother ones.

While Gai-sensei and Lee often were over-zealously united, he and Tenten were a faction all their own. He strove to have her feel as he felt sharing his feelings through action. Oftentimes he protected her when she did not need it. Once he had purchased her a small kunai, special only because it had reminded it of her the instant he saw it, and he had been lost in a rare impetuous moment, purchasing it despite its rather high cost. Slight though his offerings were, she knew him, and she accepted his gifts gratefully.

Their entwined fist rested high on his chest, the nicks and raised lines of her small, tanned fingers attesting to her dedication to her chosen path. It was because of these bumps and white scars and red burns that she never missed her mark. Tenten, too, was a genius of hard work. She had once admitted she greatly admired their cheerful, willful teammate for his persistence, and sought to be like him.

Funny, that before the first chuunin examination, he had been so careless of her and Lee. Even Gai earned only his contempt. But now these were his precious people, the team that helped him get so far and would die for him and their names, their honor.

It was this contentment, the light feeling in his chest, that so amazed him. Too close to happiness, kin to luxury and sloth, the ease he felt in his current position was something he had never before even been able to imagine. All throughout his life, he desired more, to reach farther, to be better, to complete himself. Except here, with her. Because everything fell into place just right, without their pushing.

Tenten did not complete him. They were not two halves of some foolish whole that would be forever broken at their separation – and in the life of a shinobi, this was more likely than not – but two pieces of a single forever, that stretched on like the sky, marred by clouds, by storms, by drought and pollution and pure, perfect sunshine. The sun did not require approval to revolve each day around a dim tomorrow, and the rain did not cease for any man.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she asked quietly, a smile on her lips as he kissed the individual scars, tentatively, unsurely, waiting for a firm rejection that did not come and never would.

He did not have an answer filled with poetry, as Lee would have, or the excuse of cheeky passion as Naruto did. So he simply shrugged, haughtily. "I do not need to continue, if you wish for me to cease."

She only grinned at his arrogant answer, and shook her head. "Take your time."

It was advice he followed throughout the entirety of their slowly budding relationship – the flower of youth was not to be rushed.

x

The only reason he even knew so soon, was because of Lee's anguished cry from across the battlefield.

He'd been attempting to defend Hinata, who was desperately trying to wade her way over to Naruto, despite his best attempts to reason her away from the thick of the front lines. But just as they'd made it to the very central circle of the field, Tenten went down – trying to protect Lee, reckless and passionate in the heat of combat.

She fell, fast, shoved down by the force of the attack, but Neji's clever eyes saw it as if it were happening in slow motion – the shock of the blow forcing her to stumble before taking her out entirely, the awkward rush of her hands as she sought to balance herself a split second before the agony rushed her, the determination written across her face – she'd done it for Lee, knowing what would happen. It was too slow, and the sight burned itself into his retinas, a chakra memory that seemed to replay endless across his line of vision.

Lee gripped her tightly, sobbing, and Neji did not make it in time to hear any final words, to meet her eyes one last time. He was too late.

"Tenten!" Lee wept, lean, muscular body wracked with hysterical tears. "No! No!"

Neji could only stiffen with a closely-held need to react, to do something, to give a sentimental display that would only embarrass him and distract from the situation at hand.

There was hardly any blood to ruin his teammate's flak vest. She'd bled out so quickly, her body too small compared to the enormous injury. Round eyes stared up at him, begging him to say something, to deny it, to make it better – after all, Hyuuga Neji was a genius, the finest shinobi of the Hyuuga, one of the greatest in members in generations - but Neji could do nothing for the broken body in Lee's arms. And as he spouted flowery, inelegant poetry about the withering of Tenten's youth, Neji could only grit his teeth, the constriction in his heart and throat too tight, crippling him

"Lee." The words were forceful, angry. This was a battlefield. There was no time for mourning. Self-sacrifice was the way of the shinobi, and Tenten knew better than any of them how precious Lee's dream was. A ninja without external chakra use – a taijutsu master and specialist, a dreamer with a heart larger than the Land of Fire. His hiccoughs shamed them- did he not know what this meant? This was exactly what Tenten had sought to prevent with her movement, the grief in Lee's eyes, the inability to function. It brought back memories of Lee's hospitalization after their first chuunin exams. Rock Lee had been the person Tenten had admired most, and she protected his life and his dream with her final breath.

Lee did not respond to his chastisement, and Neji only placed a hand on his teammate's shoulder, letting him have a moment to mourn before the battle could begin anew.

He did not need her, but oh, how he so desperately wanted her back.

x

The hand hidden within his own was small, but tanned and strong, with ragged nails and a warm pulse. Clammy palms held tightly, the only sign that she was struggling. He'd hoped she wouldn't cry, and he knew she wouldn't, at least until he left, but the little telltale signals hurt even worse. Almost wanting her tears instead, he sighed, looking away.

"We're in different squads."

He only nodded, jerkily, his motions stiff. He was more comfortable with her than any other person, and still, he had no courage to kiss her chapped lips. She waited for him, just like she always did, patient and understanding and accepting. As much as she wanted him, she did not need him.

"I could ask for a replacement…"

Her offer was lame, if given wholeheartedly, and they both knew it.

The hard, heavy work of her marksmanship left her fingers scarred and rough. They were not the hands of his cousin, smooth and long and well-manicured, or of Ino, painted and lotioned and scented flirtatiously, nor the meticulous fingers of Sakura, with their clipped fingernails and cool palms, sliced from paper cuts.

These were the hands of a kunoichi, blunt and steady and vital. He often forgot how small she was – only slightly taller and heavier than Hinata, thin from undernourishment and exercise. He only ever realized how fragile her bones were when she pressed against him in training, small and firm but brittle.

He wondered what his infatuation was with his teammate. Surely his own cousin would give him an objective ideal beauty – the Hyuuga bloodline was strong in her profile and wide gray eyes, with smooth, ladylike skin. Perhaps he should be attracted to the more vivacious loveliness of the Yamanaka clan, especially Ino, with cascades of golden hair and wide turquoise eyes. Even Sakura would do as an object for his affections – she was undeniably in love with the absent Uchiha to this very day, and therefore an infatuation with her would mean safety, a faraway dream that he could not reach and cropped, floss-like hair that looked smooth to the touch, her wide green eyes always cast down demurely, more in the manner of a woman than a girl.

But neither of them had brown hair that shone almost black, then auburn, then chestnut, or eyes that sparkled mischievously, or hands covered in evidence of hard work.

Neither of them forced and wriggled and teased themselves into his heart the way she had. And perhaps no one else ever could.

He never told her how he felt.

She never told him she knew.

x

There was no funeral, even after the war was over.

Tenten's family had died before the war, a mother who'd gotten sick and a father who had died after a lackluster genin mission outside the borders, when she was eight. There was no one left to arrange anything. No one to care except for him and their friends, too busy to care about organizing a funeral in the midst of so much death.

He wished he had kissed her, had asked her to see him as more than a teammate, had done more than just hold her when she was cold or tired, had married her. Instead, he and Lee sat at their old genin training grounds, after everything was over. He consoled Lee, quietly and awkwardly, wishing he had Tenten's ability to put people at ease, or their sensei's gift of utter sincerity.

"Did you not care?" Lee sniffed, staring accusingly at him when still, he did not cry, even when they were alone.

Neji did not have the energy to be angry at him - Lee was upset, and he understood that. He and Tenten had been best friends, and shared a bond he could not touch.

So he only shook his head, the words echoing out of his mouth feeling and sounding foreign and forced. "I... care quite a bit."

"What will you do now? Team Gai is broken!"

Neji blankly looked at him, eyes clouded like a storming sky. Wasn't it obvious? Team Gai was shattered, lost, but they, the individuals belonging to it, were still blessedly whole, and they should be grateful for that. "All we can do is be grateful for every new day... even if it is not shared with her."

x

He did not tell a single soul about what he saw within the mind-numbing jutsu of war.

His dream of a perfect world - where his seal was gone and he was Hinata's equal, a leader in the eyes of the clan, where his father got along famously with Gai-sensei and Lee was considered a genius. A world where Tenten's parents watched proudly as he offered her his surname. A world where she accepted.

When they had been freed, he thought about it. And it was true - a world of parents and happiness and peace was immensely desirable to him. But a world where Tenten would so easily submit to his arrogance was a world that did not hold who Tenten truly was. And he would rather have lost her after loving her than dreaming of something so unfulfilling and incomplete.