Nengajo: Black and Red

Arching her back with a small mewling sound, Hinata raised her arms over her head and stretched, the muscles in her back tensing and then relaxing as she gave herself a break from what had obviously been too long a time of forced stillness. Straightening up again, she flexed sore fingers and gazed from the stack of neatly organized postcards sitting at the edge of the desk to the much smaller - since this afternoon, when she'd started working on them - pile of blank cards set off to the other side. The majority of the desk was scattered - again, neatly, she preferred things to stay as neat and orderly as possible even when she was working - with pens, brushes, and small bottles of ink. Here and there were little tin containers that held stamps, stickers, glitter, and other assortments of crafting aids. Smiling to herself, Hinata picked up one of the small tins between thumb and forefinger, setting it carefully on top of it's neighbor.

It was the holidays again, her favourite time of year. This year was her 16th birthday, and already the winter boded well - in her mind - for a wonderful holiday season. There was a fresh blanket of clean white snow on the ground, she'd finished her holiday shopping early, managed to impress her father with the results of her most recent bout of training, and now she was nearly done with her nengajo for this year.

Tugging one of the blank white cards from the stack, she placed it in front of her on the desk and set to work decorating it, adding intricate calligraphy designs to the borders and picking out little stickers or stamps to further set this one aside from all the others. She knew that most people simply purchased ready-made nengajo, or gave the same card to everyone, the only difference being perhaps in the written message. Which was perfectly fine for most folk, but Hinata had always enjoyed giving her cards the more personal touch. That being the case, every one of them was unique, tailored to the person who would receive it on the first day of the new year.

Writing the nengajo was her favourite part of the holiday celebrations, in part because it allowed her to escape the constant feeling of never being quite good enough. She knew this was something she was good at, though she always met the compliments she received with flushed cheeks and meek protests that no, her cards weren't THAT nice, she just took extra time on them. She also simply liked the activity. Writing was... easy, in a way. It was so much simpler at times to write thoughts down on paper or card than to actually will them up into your throat and speak them aloud. At least, it was easier for her. Other people, it seemed, had no trouble making their thoughts heard.

She reached for an envelope for the last card, blinking in surprise when her hand fell on another rectantle of thick white paper. Glancing from the stack of cards to the one in her hand, she set it down and picked up the small list she had been using. Well that was odd... she was fairly certain that she had purchased exactly the right number of cards for everyone, yet there was one still left. Maybe she had missed someone's name on the list? Mentally, she ticked off each name as she read over her own neat script. No, every single name on the list had been checked off. Shrugging her shoulders, she dropped the extra card back onto the desk. She must have grabbed an extra one by mistake at the store. Likely when she'd bumped into Sakura.

Thinking back to the other day, she couldn't help but blush at the memory. She and Sakura had hardly been the only people purchasing nengajo cards, but the pink-haired girl had been the one who noticed her pale-eyed friend first. What had started as a simple conversation had turned into something much more embarassing as the more outgoing girl had pressed Hinata about her own plans; specifically whether she was going to take advantage of the tradition to send a personalized message of affection to any one particular person. Hinata had turned scarlet and stammered a response, which was made all the more difficult by Sakura's gentle teasing and her assertion that 'even Naruto can't be so dense as to misunderstand a written message of love'. The Hyuuga heiress had been all too grateful to pay for her cards and get out of the shop as fast as she could before Sakura continued.

Even now, she shuddered at the thought of doing what Sakura had suggested. It was embarassing enough to admit your feelings to yourself, but to write a romantic love note? That... just seemed so far-fetched it was nearly impossible to even consider the possibility. But... was it really as easy as Sakura made it out to be? Chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully, Hinata studied the empty square of white paper in front of her. It couldn't be all THAT hard, could it? Maybe she would try. Just to test it out, of course. There was no way in the world that she'd ever be brave enough to actually GIVE such a thing to anyone, but there wasn't any harm in writing something like that just to see if she could do it... was there?

Swallowing past her nervousness, she dipped her pen in red ink and began to write, haltingly at first, then with more ease as she slipped into the mindset of it. She supposed it wasn't all THAT difficult when you really thought about it. In a way... it was a little bit like writing a valentine, when you got right down to it. Only... there was something missing. Holding it up, she studied it, eyes tracing and reading over the neat lines of red printed script with their sweet messages. Somehow it seemed... fake, almost. Sighing, Hinata dipped her brush into the red ink again and began methodically painting over her words, tinting the entire surface of the card with crimson. That wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to be some sort of generic set of verses. It was supposed to MEAN something, to convey her own deepest feelings.

That was the hard part, though. In all honesty... she didn't KNOW her own deepest feelings anymore than she really knew who she would want to give such a card to. Certainly there was Naruto. The blond had always taken foremost position in her thoughts, all sunshine and smiles and laughing blue eyes. He made her feel stronger just by being there, as though nothing could go wrong in her life and even if it did, he could brighten it with his smiles. But in spite of that, she knew somewhere deep inside, that his regard and care and ... love, if she was honest with herself, were those of a dear friend when he looked at her. And there was Kiba. Her teammate, who followed her around like a mix of best friend, big brother, and adoring puppy. She'd noticed it, of course, it was hard not to. She just... never knew how to respond to it. Kiba was nice, and she cared for him a great deal, but he always seemed to want to protect her. To have her let him be strong for her, while she stood behind in safety. Hinata... didn't want that, though she despaired of ever having the courage to be strong for herself.

And then... there was Neji. Her cousin, who's icy demeanor had warmed significantly over the last few years. They were now even on cordial terms, where he was prone to share polite conversation with her from time to time, and had ceased being so openly dismissive of her. He still considered her weak, but in spite of that he had begun taking time to help her train, small favours here and there. An escort to the gate when she went on mission, a carefully packed snack of onigiri when she slept through her alarm and had no time to pack her own. His manner hadn't changed all that much; he was still quiet most of the time, spoke little to her, and kept generally to himself, but there was a subtle closeness there that spoke of years long past, when they'd been much closer than they were now.

She liked that, liked the way that the tension between herself and her cousin had vanished, replaced by something... different. Something nice, that she found herself looking forward to whenever she'd catch a glimpse of him as they passed on their separate ways. She liked the way they could just sit, side by side on nights when neither one of them could sleep, saying nothing and simply watching the stars. She liked to watch him as he trained in the early mornings, eyes closed in concentration as he slowly moved body and limbs through the patterns of the jyuuken, elegant as a dancer in his motions. But even more than that, she liked the way he made her WANT to be stronger. Neji protected her, that was never in any doubt. His devotion to her ran as deeply through him as any duty, but she liked to hope that there was more to it than simple duty of bunke to soke. But in spite of that, he never tried to stop her from protecting herself. Never tried to stand in her way or convince her to step back. Even all those years belittleing her and reminding her how weak she was had only served to strengthen her resolve.

Neji made her FEEL stronger, when she got right to the heart of things. Glancing down, she was shocked to find that while her mind had wandered, her hand had been busy and across the red-coloured surface of the spare card was inked a rambling and somewhat disjointed confession in black ink of all the things she loved most about the jounin. Re-reading over her own musings, Hinata felt her cheeks heating up as she realized how easily her feelings conveyed through the simple words. It wasn't as though she'd written down anyone's name, but it seemed even more obvious to her that while she had been thinking about several people, the one who had truly captured her mind and her thoughts had been Neji.

Making up her mind to get rid of the card where no one would ever EVER find it, she nearly fell out of her chair with a startled bleat of surprise as the door banged open and her younger sister stuck her head into the room. Hinata's chair overbalanced and she tumbled to the ground in a heap amidst a sudden whirlwind of white cards as she knocked the stack over. Hanabi simply watched the chaos unfold before rolling her eyes with a disgusted sigh.

"Are you EVER going to be done with those stupid cards? It's dinnertime."

And with that, the smaller girl headed back down the hall, leaving her red-faced sister sitting on the floor amidst a shower of postcards.

Author's Note: OK, so this is the first of a little 2-part bit. I hadn't planned on any of the stories for my 30-kisses collection to be related to one another, but this one threatened to get v. long and rambly so I thought it would just be best broken up into 2 parts that could be a part of the whole collection but also stand alone as a cute little couplet. For anyone who doesn't know, a nengajo is a traditional new year's postcard that people in japan send out to friends and loved ones.