Consequence
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Everyone suffers wrongs for which there is no remedy.
- Edgar Watson Howe
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They all did things that were wrong. Rage filled things. Grief-fueled things.
Sometimes things that were borderlining insanity.
She has seen her ex-best friend pummel enemies to the brink of death and revive them, only to pound them harder in unquenchable fury.
She has seen Akamaru dig, dig, dig in the Inuzukas' burial plot, all the way down to the casket, to stare at what remains of his master. Stare with an almost human expression of loss before turning and burying it again.
She has seen Shizune-san quietly deal a coup de grace to a spasming gennin, out of his mind with pain and injuries beyond repair.
She has seen Kurenai-sensei smack her son every time he has said something too similar to his father.
She has seen Shino chase away the few girls who try to approach Lee, and then comfort him when Sakura rejects him yet again.
She has seen Kakashi-sensei use his Sharingan to hypnotize and skip out on bar bills because being a jounin actually doesn'y pay as much as people think.
She has seen her father wipe her mother's mind in the heat of argument.
So it doesn't bother her anymore that she does things too, at night. With her teammate.
In his mind.
It doesn't disturb her at all that she plugs into his subconsciousness, pushing aside his restless calculations, quieting the stormy chattering until there is silence, stillness. Nothing but him and her and eventually something soft to lie on but not always. Then the silence will be shattered with frantic grunts and unhushed mewls, loud as they want to be. Who could hear them? They were free of all inhibitions...
They do not speak to each other when they meet this way. She is fine with that; everything they need to say to each other they say in the daylight, face to face.
The night is for everything they cannot say.
It slightly bothers her when she sometimes catches a glimpse of herself already there, sometimes looking more radiantly beautiful than she's ever actually been, or nagging at the top of her lungs, or contently rubbing a rounded belly. She hesitates on those nights, though if it's out of pity or longing or grief she doesn't know.
All she knows is that she never sees his wife there. Of all the things she's seen, in others and in him, this is something that has never troubled her.
If this is the only way...she'll share. The other woman could have his body; his mind and heart belonged to her.
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She has not seen Neji see her, his eyes closed and facing the other side of the room, desperately pretending not to know what his girlfriend is doing.
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It wouldn't bother her even if she did.
A/N : I must give credit where it is due, this piece was inspired by Sabaku no Hyuuga by burnt.