Alight. I know it's been a long time in coming , but here it is. Chapter Three! Enjoy. I told you I'd update only when I felt the urge, but I'm going out of town in two days so I figured, "Ah what the Hell" and decided to give you an early-Thanksgiving present.

Now, enjoy and please, kindly over look any gross errors in spelling or grammar. It's nearly two a.m. over here, ya know.

Onward!

Neji laid there on the floor, feeling the many-times-washed stiffness of the carpet's brittle fibers on his bare skin. He knew he looked horrible—hair everywhere, sweaty and lacking even a shirt. Not at all charming or handsome.

Not that it would have helped, he was sure. Hinata was…out of his league.

He could hear the splash of the water hitting the basin in the bathroom—he groaned and shut his eyes. An image—vivid and intense—of Hinata, beneath the shower head, water cascading down her body. He could almost trace the path of one water drop as it swept down her graceful neck and down through that intriguing dip between her collar bones…down, over the swell of ones breast before it passed slowly—ever so slowly—over the darkened, taunt nipple…further down, tracing its way down her toned stomach, down into the crease of her hip…down until it slid over her…

He gasped, opened his eyes quickly and observed the ceiling with great intent, focusing on the water-marked texturing and the dingy, once-white paint. His breathing was ragged, hurried and his body was aching fiercely. A painful throbbing was building—in his head and elsewhere—and he whimpered pathetically.

Damn women and their perfect bodies.

No.

Damn Hinata and her perfect body.

He was no virgin teen to be tempted by the barest glimpse of flesh, but he was on a dry spell—not that he needed sex. He just enjoyed it. Greatly.

What self-respecting male didn't?

His relationship with Tenten, while mutually beneficial in the sexual-gratification areas, ended swiftly; as teammates, it was distracting and a bit of a nuisance, especially when Lee puzzled it all out for himself—and declared that he would battle Neji for Tenten's honor.

The brunette was absolutely smitten with her impromptu knight and Neji politely—gratefully—bowed out, leaving their nearly year-long affair without complaint.

All the other trysts he'd had—with other anonymous women—were always fast and purely carnal, with no emotional attachment of any kind.

So no, the female body wasn't new to him, but gods help him, Hinata had been haunting his dreams for nearly two years now—inappropriate, forbidden…disastrous and devastating.

A sound came to him—the bathroom door opening. A sudden wave of warm water vapor rolled over him as his cousin came stepping out of the tiled room, wrapped only in a large, fluffy towel…still dripping from head to toe.

Neji forced himself to meet her eyes and arch an eyebrow in question.

Hinata blushed but held his gaze. "There's nothing for me to wear to bed, Neji-kun." Her bare feet were pale and she was twisting one absently, on the ball of the foot—like she wanted to run away.

Neji suppressed his groan and struggled stiffly to his feet.

Instead of accentuating the awkwardness, he merely nodded, keeping his expression impassive. He strolled past her, into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Hopefully a shower would clear his thoughts.

A few moments later, he was standing beneath the moderately hot jets of water, absorbing the warmth into his chilled, sweat-coated body. He tilted his head back, meaning to rinse the soap from his hair when an image floated to the forefront of his thoughts…

…Breasts thrusting outward, begging for his touch. Lips, parted in invitation, whispering his name. A body he knows like his own—a pleasure that only he can give her. He wraps a hand in her hair and pulls her forward, lips crashing down to possess hers. To claim her…

A moan escapes him…

But that wasn't part of his little daydream…it was real. He smothered the sound by pressing his face into the crook of his elbow while he leaned against the tiled wall, trying to catch his breath. His body was hard and aching; weeks of going without real relief—or the non-self-administered variety—had caught up to him with a vengeance.

He considered reaching down and taking care of it—to put himself out of his own misery, even with his innocent cousin in the very next room. His hand actually slid from his hair, down his chest, sliding lower—and then he jerked it back, getting a grip on himself ever so quickly.

What was he thinking?

He slid down to his knees and took a seat directly beneath the shower-head, letting the constant beat and rhythm of the water streams pour over him.

He had to get himself together—somehow. For Hinata's sake if not for both of them.

((o))

Neji didn't know how long he sat there beneath the water, but only that when he opened his eyes again, he felt light-headed and tired, like he'd dozed off on his watch—something he hadn't done since he was eleven.

How long had he been in there?

His fingers, he saw, were long into their pruney stages and by now, the points were the water had been hitting for too long felt bruised or raw. And the water itself was going luke-warm…a sign, for sure.

Shutting off the water, Neji got off and began toweling off. His mind, of course, was working on minial things—they needed clothes for instance…and money, as well. For now, though, they would deal with what they had…

…which were big fluffy towels and not much else.

Wrapping the towel loosely around his waist, Neji wondered vaguely if Hinata had retired to bed already?

Because it would be just that much more awkward when he came strolling in with naught but a towel for cover. He wanted to groan at the flush of chagrin that crept up his neck but held it in. He prayed she was asleep already—it would save him so much agony.

But just to make sure…

Utilizing his bloodline-limit in a casual manner, Neji activated the Byakugan and peered through the door…

…and immediately wished he hadn't.

There she was, temptation incarnate, sitting carefully on the end of the bed, toweling off her thighs and legs; all that glorious skin exposed to his gaze. Bent over as she was, he didn't see much in the way of anything scandalous…

…just so damned appetizing…

Almost as if she felt his gaze, Hinata suddenly lifted her head, her own Byakugan activated and they stared at each other through the door, cool tingles running across their skin when their eyes locked.

It was then that Neji became conscious of his own precarious state of semi-nudity. With a mumbled curse, he turned his back to the door and broke off his enhanced vision, waiting a moment until the bathroom came back into focus, in all its garish pink-and-white glory. He struggled to take a deep, calming breath.

A chill down his spine, which swept down his hips and just over the swell of his lower back—and then disappeared all together. Hinata had deactivated her Byakugan, as well. Neji swallowed a little thickly…

…if they had been at the Hyuuga Compound, it would be death for him; to activate the Byakugan while in residence was against the clan laws. Perhaps that was why, Neji thought. His secret infatuation with Hinata had, over time, become something of a crush. What kind of crazed stalker would he be if he peeked in on Hinata using the very trait that marked them as family?

You're a pervert. His own thoughts whispered it to him and he nodded, accepting. He wasa pervert…

…for the love of Kami, he was staring at his cousin!

It's not your fault she's gorgeous. Some treacherous part of him was woefully disinterested in their shared blood and was instead focusing on the pure, unadulterated desires that spun lazily like pin-wheels of fire behind his eyes.

He groaned, counted to three and then took a deep breath.

I should go apologize to her. I was out of line.

He glanced at himself in the mirror and got his own gaze, seeing the blush that stained his cheeks. It was an embarrassing situation—he hadn't really meant to peep—but it had happened and it needed to be explained thoroughly, lest there be some kind of awkwardness between them.

That couldn't happen.

With a firm nod to himself, he readjusted his towel and made sure it would stay in place—and then he reached out and took hold of the latch, opening the door slowly.

Hinata was there, on the end of the bed, wrapped demurely in her towel so that it covered everything from the swell of her breasts to her thighs. She looked up when he entered and smiled at him easily, as if he hadn't just violated her privacy. Her hair, hanging damp over on shoulder, gleamed in the dim light of the room—and was that the scent of lilacs in the air?

Where did that come from?

Neji cleared his throat and paused halfway across the room from her, prepared to humble himself at her feet if necessary. "Hinata-sama…"

She blinked once and that stopped him dead; it was the kind of deliberate, steady act that his uncle, Hiashi, performed when he wished someone to stop speaking. Neji did so…immediately.

Hinata smiled, "Ah, Neji-kun…did you have a good bath?" She stood up and moved around to one side of the bed, examining the mattress and bedclothes with a critical eye. "Was there plenty of hot water?"

Neji nodded, unsure. She was acting as if it never happened.

Seeing his nod, Hinata nodded as well and then reached out to peel the comforter back from the heaboard; she fluffed a pillow with one hand and then climbed into the bed, careful of her towel and what it covered.

Neji looked away to give her some measure of privacy.

Finally, the rustling of the comforter and sheets stopped and Hinata cleared her throat. He looked over and saw her arranged one the right side of the bed, closest to the window. She was smiling at him.

"When you're dry enough, climb in Neji-kun."

She said it so innocently, as if it was an everyday interaction, that he had to swallow and process his next words before he could actually say them. "Climb in? Together?"

Hinata nodded, as if it were the silliest question in the world. "Hai. This is probably the last time we'll get to sleep in a real bed for the next couple of days, right?" She patted the mattress, "So we'd best enjoy it, Neji-kun."

Oh kami—did she know how much that sounded like a proposition? Was she that innocent of the desires of men that she couldn't see the reaction those simple words ignited in him? No, no…that couldn't be right. She was a kunoichi—she knew the basics of the art of seduction. She would have to know.

But what a churlish brute he was being. She was making a perfectly valid point about their lack of assured shelter each night and here he was, mentally undressing her…laying her across the bed…kissing those soft lips…brushing his hands down her sides…under the towel…to caress slick, damp heat…

He swallowed, coughed and had to look away. He could only hope she didn't read it on his face. Instead, to distract from his withdrawal, he said, "Its unseemly of us to share a bed, now that it is not necessity. I will take the floor tonight."

Hinata sighed and sank down into her pillow, lying in the bed and tugging the sheet up to her chin. "Neji-kun, come to bed. Do not do something so foolish. We're both adults now. We can keep our hands to ourselves."

He stopped, turned and looked at her. He didn't have the strength to deny her plea the second time.

For your sake, Hinata, I hope I can keep my hands to myself.

He moved over to the bed and climbed in, securing the towel around him and sliding beneath the sheets carefully. The linens were crisp and cool against his skin, but pleasantly so. He barely stopped himself from groaning in appreciation; he would never admit it aloud, but he was a sucker for the good things in life. Growing up in the compound, even with his diminished status, he had been ever so privileged.

Finally, when he was settled in, he pulled the coverlet up to his chin and turned his back on Hinata, hoping to give her some form of privacy, even in their shared bed. He heard her sigh softly but she didn't pursue the topic for discussion. A rustle of bed sheet and a tug on the coverlet; she was settling in as well.

"Good night, Neji-kun."

"Good night, Hinata-chan."

Awkward and new to them both, the titles drifted out on sleepy yawns. Neji blinked once…twice…and then a third time, wondering why he was so suddenly exhausted. Behind him, he heard Hinata yawn again and sensed her snuggling deeper into her pillow. She murmured something, only half heard as she faded out.

They were both sound asleep before Neji could ask her to repeat it.

((o))

Morning came too soon for Neji's tastes—and he rose by habit, an hour after the sun had risen. A new day. Fresh.

Another day on the run.

The knowledge that he was still fleeing for his life—and Hinata's—came to him before conscious thought process did…and then he blinked, flushing hotly at the sight that greeted him this morning.

Curled slightly, Hinata laid on her side, eyes closed and expression peaceful in her sleep. Her soft pink lips were parted slightly and a breath puffed out periodically; her chest rose and fell, all that creamy, pale expanse open and free to his roving eyes. Sometime in the night, it seemed, Hinata's towel had come undone…and it was now slipping precariously off one shoulder, revealing far too much skin to be proper. And, as if the gods were offering up the purest of temptations to him on a silver platter, the coverlet was pooled low across her legs, as if she kicked them off in sleep…but the towel fell awkwardly across her thighs, barely covering the most feminine part of her.

Neji groaned, shifted away slightly and took a deep breath.

There was no way to blame this reaction…honestly…on morning wood.

Lying there for a moment, Neji took the time to contemplate their situation, hoping his body would…calm itself. They had no money with which to pay the inn-keeper or to buy clothes, food or travel-rations. They had no appropriate coverings and they were all too noticeable.

The Hyuuga eyes were famous far and wide.

But first things first…they needed some coinage.

Rising slowly from the bed—and feeling every bit as weary as he was when he went to bed—Neji somehow managed to stumble into his stained, dirty pants and out of the bedroom, though he left the door indiscernibly propped open, so he could get back in. Standing in the hall, he had no idea what to do, which room to try. He didn't even know which ones had been occupied last night.

Then, on a whim, he turned and went down to room 313…the room that should have been theirs the evening before. Remarkably, the doorknob turned easily in his hand—unlocked—and when he peeked inside cautiously, found that if there had been a male presence in the place the night before, he was most assuredly gone now.

Tip-toeing and moving in the perfect shinobi-bred silence, he moved across the room, eyes searching everywhere. When he strode past the bed, he paused to observe the naked, flawlessly sensual creature lying there.

Curled on top of the bed covers and looking thoroughly weary, was a woman of indistinct age but a very supple body. A quantity of coins—what might have been a double handful for a large man—were thrown haphazardly at her side.

A prostitute.

Ah…well then it makes sense. His eyes skimmed over the pleasure-girl with barely concealed disdain. Despite her well-turned calves, shapely thighs, trim waist and premium-package breasts, Neji did not feel the least stirrings of attraction—not even a vague arousal. His morning wood, completely gone, did not return.

He didn't find her in the least bit attractive.

He chose not to examine that too much.

Searching through the room quickly, he located the woman's handbag and began to rifle through, looking for anything that might be of use. What he found—annoyingly—was a great quantity of expensive makeup and half a dozen pairs of designer sunglasses. Sighing in disgust, he threw the purse down beside the nightstand and approached the bed again.

The woman continued to sleep on in oblivious peace as Neji helped himself to half the coins on her bed. He did some rough calculations in his head, counted out half her coins for himself and than quietly thanked her for the donation.

She didn't stir.

He was about to leave the room when he caught sight of himself in the mirror hanging on the dingy wall. Wearing only a pair of long-shorts and his hair pulled back, he must stick out like a sore thumb; however, it was the pale eyes that were his birthright that caught his attention—and how they would draw unwanted questions and eyes in the streets.

He thought for a moment and then returned to the prostitute's purse, swiping the two darkest pairs of sunglasses he could find. He thanked the woman again as he made his way out the door.

He re-entered his own room to find Hinata sitting up in bed and looking around through bleary eyes, the sheet clutched to her chest. Neji looked away as he closed the bedroom door behind him and then focused completely on her eyes when he spoke to her.

"We're getting out of here in fifteen minutes. Hurry."

Hinata nodded and made to step out of the bed; quickly, Neji averted his gaze to the far wall and waited for her to pass behind him and into the bathroom.

"Do we have money to pay the bill?"

"Taken care of."

"Hai."

"Hai."

They didn't talk much after that and then Hinata reappeared in front of him a few moments later, clothed and looking fresh. It was never easy to rise from bed and into a stance of immediate alertness; he mentally applauded her forethought in taking a shower to wake herself up. Brilliant little heiress.

"Do I want to ask where we got the money?" She was gathering up the discarded towels and throwing them by the bathroom door; a quick finger combing of her hair before she deftly pulled it up into a high bun. The graceful arch of her neck and spine tempted Neji's touch—but he stayed away, shaking his head.

"No, probably not."

"Very well."

Nodding, Neji looked around once more. There wasn't much for it—they had to leave, now. But…before they went…

Bending, Neji ripped a length from the bottom-most sheet on the bed, corner to corner. Hinata watched him without comment as he quickly wrapped the length of cloth around his head, covering his curse seal effectively enough. He knew he didn't have to explain it to her.

They left the room and went down into the lobby, where they encountered a different counter-manager than the night before. This man was thinner and looked like some kind of reject scholar, his glass pushed high up on his nose and stale tobacco smoke clinging to him like a cloak. Hinata fought the urge to wrinkle her nose as Neji counted out a few coins to pay for the hotel room; feeling eyes on her, she looked up and met the feverish gaze of the nerdy man. He gave her what she supposed was his "sweet" smile—it looked more like a near-pain grimace; she was overly aware of the fact that her lack of appropriate clothing was the cause of all these stares—it wasn't as if she could hide her breasts in this top—but she was too much of a shinobi to complain about it. She would continue on—with Neji—until they could get appropriate supplies.

The Inn's little shabby lobby was filled with a mixed group of unsavory looking people, all of whom cast at least one look over Hinata—and some of them, Neji. She knew what an odd sight they must make but as far as she was concerned, they were worthless pond scum. She gave them her best 'superior and I know it' look and turned on her heel to follow Neji out of the room, hoping to the gods that she looked a least a portion of the regality she was supposed to exude so easily.

Outside, Neji paused and glanced up and down the street, wary. "You are hungry, as I am. We should eat and then head out." Looking satisfied that no one was going to jump them, he pulled on one pair of sunglasses and handed Hinata the other. She took them without complaint and slid them on, finding them comfortable if a bit unusual. Neji was not complaining and she took that to me that he was fine with his pair. Nodding firmly, he took off walking down the right corridor of the street, Hinata keeping easy pace beside him, despite his long strides. She tried to smile and look natural; Neji responded to her quiet, meaningless conversation while he scanned the avenue for unsavories.

They were only just a ways down the street when they came across a small crowd of dingy, dusty people standing around a low-standing table, behind which sat a middle-aged man with a full head of sun-lightened gold-brown hair. Before him, spread out like wares to be sold, were three overturned wooden cups. Hinata didn't mean to meet the man's gaze, but she was curious—and then the peddler saw her and whistled loudly, which immediately has some of the men in the crowd turning their heads to see what had caught his attention.

Neji came to a stop beside her, standing deceptively still and calm, like a snake waiting to strike. The men in crowd spared him barely a glance and instead chose to eye up Hinata, sparing no thought for delicacy; Neji felt his jaw tighten—this was becoming increasingly ridiculous! They could not continue walking around like this; he was too conspicuous, missing a shirt—and Hinata? She attracted attention no matter where they were.

And it was then, while brooding over the peddler's set up, that he decided on a course of action. He rolled his shoulders back to loosen the tension and then approached the table, "A game? Of chance or of skill?"

The peddler bobbed his head at him, but Neji did not miss the way his eyes cut over Hinata, "Both, good sir. Do you wanna try your hand at it? You look like a right-lucky man, what with your present beauteous company." He rolled the multi-syllabic words across his tongue like he was some great scholar.

A few of the more daring men in the crowd whistled agreement; Hinata gave a small, vague smile and approached to stand beside Neji, eyeing him from behind her sunglasses. He had that determined look, she noted—the one that told her he was thinking and formulating. She let him do it—she busied herself with looking the part of the petted floozy.

Their ignorance and lust blinded them to the little inconsistencies in the act.

Neji nodded accordingly, playing his part. "Very right you are, sir—I am most fortunate." He slung an arm around Hinata's waist for good measure and pulled her to him. "Why, with this lovely vision of Lady Luck, how can I lose?"

A few of the hardened costumers looked at one another deviously and took quiet bets on how long before he lost it all. Both Hyuugas ignored them.

The peddler nodded again and waved his hand out, "Well then fine, sir—play a hand, play a hand! You just have to keep your eye on the cups and figure which ways the ball is going!" He held up a little dingy ball, no bigger than a quarter and placed it under one of the cups, "Like so!" He shuffled them around a bit, more slowly than one might expect—and of course, Neji had no problem locating the ball a moment later.

"Right, right!" The peddler snorted, "You've done fair fine in that round, good man! You're a big winner, fo'sure! And with my games, lad, I've got te match every bet ya place! So it's double the win for ya should ya triumph! Ya can't lose!" He chortled and his cohorts, gathered around, smothered their sarcasm. Neji ignored them some more.

"Well, then…how can I resist the chance to better my fortunes?" He glanced at Hinata from the corner of his eye, catching her gaze behind the glasses, "We could always use more money, couldn't we darling?"

Hinata made herself smile and nod, "Of course, baby." The words rolled off her tongue, familiar lines she'd learned in those extra courses Tsunade had enrolled her in—she hated them with a passion. The syllables felt fake and thick on her lips and she fought the urge to gag on them. Charade, charade. Must keep up the charade.

The peddler eyed them both, "So ye'll be playin' again?"

Neji nodded.

The gathered crowd chortled as one and Hinata glanced around, offering them all a blank stare from behind her sunglasses; however, from all they could see of her face, she was smiling at them. Encouraged, a few of them wished her "husband" a bad round or two.

She tried not to sneer at them. This game would be childishly simple for the two of them—the Byakugan would take care of it, no doubt. She could see how this could be beneficial to them—this little extra bit of money—but she was wondering how Neji would pull it off. Surely the peddler had dealt with hustlers before. Took one to know one, right?

But already the old man was setting up his game again—the three cups came down, two empty, one covering the little ball. Neji paid the man three coins; Hinata and the crowd went still and Neji watched as the man's hands rose over the cups.

Faster than one might think would be possible, the peddler was sliding the cups across the table-top; he shuffled them extensively, not using any recognizable pattern that Hinata could find and when he was finished a moment later, he was staring up at Neji with a gap toothed smile. "Now, find the ball, lad."

Hinata couldn't resist the urge and silently activated her Byakugan, finding the ball under the cup to Neji's left. She wanted to tell him so but his hand shot out and lifted the cup on the far right—which was, of course, empty. The gathered audience snickered.

The peddler tutted. "Close, good sir. Close!" He lifted the correct cup and rolled the little ball around with a single fingertip. "Would you be willing te' try again?"

Neji glanced at Hinata and with her Byakugan, she could see his eyes clearly even behind the sunglasses—and was shocked to find that he too had activated his blood-line limit. Then why the false judgement? She puzzled over it for a moment.

"What say you, darling? Shall we try again?" He phrased the question as if he were asking her permission; Hinata sensed that maybe he was asking more. She pushed her way through the thought process—and arrived at sense. It stole over her with a sudden flush and she ducked her head, startled.

"Do as you wish, sweetheart."

The men around them made little cat-calls and whistled; Neji nodded and a faint smile traced the outline of his lips. He paid the man his three-coin fee and watched the game get set up once more. Then the peddler shuffled and rearranged the cups.

Again, the ball was under the left-most cup—and this time, Hinata was relieved to see Neji chose correctly. Of course, she knew he would. From what she could puzzle out of his plan, it would be necessary to win sometimes.

With Neji's correct choice, a few of the men in the crowd guffawed and others made rude noises; the peddler himself looked only miffed. "Again, my good sir? We've broken even."

Neji threw down three more coins, "Again."

Again he lost.

Three more coins and a win; three more coins—and another win.

Again.

A loss.

And again.

And again.

Some time later, Neji had reached the thirteenth consecutive loss and the peddler was simply glowing; the men around them were elbowing each other and not bothering to lower their voices. The money pile on the table had grown to an impressive size and they were wondering if they "lad" would walk away now or keep playing.

Hinata, standing beside her cousin, was getting antsy. She was sure Neji had a plan; several times she had seen his eyes dart to the appropriate cup behind his glasses…only to have him deliberately choose a wrong one. She didn't know what he would do now—All of nothing, perhaps? But with what would he enter the round? She had a sneaking suspicion and she didn't like it one iota—but what could she say? It had to be done and she was just as responsible to help get them along down the road as he was, wasn't she? She would do whatever was necessary.

Neji was looking through his pockets, as if searching for more money, though Hinata knew they were all out. Meanwhile, the peddler took the opportunity to let his gaze rove over her freely, brazenly eyeing her breasts and the way they filled out her top; she felt his eyes skim over her thighs and try to measure her rear from his low-level seat. She fought the blush rising in her cheeks and gave him what she hoped was the practiced smile that all kunoichi were supposed to master in those damned courses.

She couldn't play games like this one too often—and she wasn't talking about the cups. She just didn't have the nerve to play the easy whore. Ino had been much better at it, she recalled—and Tenten too. Hinata graduated that class in the last rung. At the present moment, she would have given nearly anything to have that kind of nerve.

Suddenly, into the relative silence, Neji announced that he had no further coinage and the men around him gave excited sounds. The peddler flashed him that gap-toothed smile. "Then what shall ya do, boy? Will it be the walk-away for you or will you play one last time?" He raised a single eyebrow, "All or nothing?" He looked at Hinata, a lustful smile playing around his lips. "I'd be willin' to take the young miss there as collateral."

Several of the men in the crowd tossed in their two cents as to how else the peddler could take the "young miss".

Hinata didn't gasp because she had sensed it coming—ever since Neji had looked at her…or was it when he started losing all those rounds deliberately? She knew it was coming, though, either way and so she smiled at the peddler, widely. "Ooh? Me?" She tried to make it sound airy and light—rather, she imagined one of those high-class woman who sometimes adorned the arms of the ANBU guards who roamed the Hokage's Tower and tried to imitate their voices.

Neji glanced at her, surprised it seemed, despite himself. She didn't look at him—couldn't risk unraveling.

The peddler leaned his chin down on his slightly sunburned hands and leered up at her. "Why yes, little missy. You'd do just fine!" He scanned her once more, as if he couldn't get over the proportions. "If your lad finds his luck again—well then all the more luck to ye! But if not…" He trailed off and the smile that was playing around his lip suddenly turned slick and oily. "…If not…we'll see what's to be done in the way of repayment, yes?"

Before Neji could intercede in any way, Hinata turned to him fully and pressed her body to his firmly, wrapping her arms around one of his own, trying to look the absolute picture of the besotted, trusting floozy. "Ooh, darling, doesn't that sound fair? I'm sure you'll win this time!" Cue the batting of the eyelashes.

Neji's lips twisted upward despite himself. "Yes, how perfectly fair," he murmured. He could see her eyes staring up at him from behind the glasses and as Byakugan met Byakugan, he let the genuine amusement pass from his eyes to hers.

Grateful that he could be so entertained at a moment like this—and that he didn't sense the underlying shake in her limbs—Hinata turned her head toward the peddler. "We're playing, old man."

The peddler laughed, long and obnoxiously loud—the kind of laugh you heard too often from drunks in a familiar bar. "Old man? Little miss, later I'll have to show you just what kinda man I am."

Hinata gave him a saucy smile and opted not to reply.

And, for the last time, the peddler placed the little ball down on the table and reshuffled the cups—this time faster than all the times before. Neji closed his eyes behind the glasses; the nature of the Byakugan allowed him to catch every nuance of movement and the pace was making him dizzy. At his side, Hinata did the same, tucking her head into the curve of his shoulder; she had faith—how could she not? She knew this time the game was rigged in their favor.

So why was she still shaking?

The cups fell silent and Hinata looked up to see the peddler leering at them. He waved his hands over the cups, "Take ya time lad; no rush." He was grinning like a fool—a lustful, red-blooded fool.

And then Neji reached out, casually, and lifted the middle cup off the table—and there it was, the little ball. It stayed exactly put where it was, caught in a groove on the table; the crowd craned over Neji and Hinata's shoulders and looked around them at it in amazement.

The peddler stared in absolute silence, stunned and stupid suddenly.

And then someone in the crowd whistled, "Well, hot-damn. The brat won."

Movement returned all at once. Some of the men were turning and grumbling and reaching into their pockets to pay their fellow cohorts over the lost bet; one man, in particular it seemed, was collecting a large amount of money, shoving it into his pockets with a wide smile that would have fit on canary-eating cat.

Neji ignored them and Hinata moved out from under his arm as he reached out to collect their winnings from the table. He reached out and began to slide the coins across the table—only to have the peddler slam his hand down on top, halting the progress. Neji's gaze flicked down to the man behind his glasses. Hinata stood still, watching, ready.

"I don't know how ya did it, son, but as sure as the sun rises ya played me." His voice was grumpy, throaty and low—mean. He was eyeing up with an expression one could only call malicious. "And I want my pay! Leave the coins and the woman—ya lost, ya did."

Neji cocked an eyebrow, "You'd be hard pressed to describe that to these gentlemen here, sir. Perhaps it's not that I cheated you, but that you've cheated so many people in the past that your luck finally ran out."

The old man glared, baring his teeth. "Back off boy. I've got friends here."

Neji glanced to the side with a leisurely smile. "Really? Seems they're much less interested now." And it was true, Hinata saw; the men were dispersing and only a few remained, talking to the big winner who was smiling with widely in a most endearing way.

The peddler's eyes narrowed, "If I holler, they'll come."

Neji nodded, "No doubt, no doubt." Of course, he didn't believe it for a minute—now that the show was over, no one would be coming about now. He made to pull his hand—and the coins—out from under the man's hand, but the old peddler wouldn't let it go.

Hinata's skin tingled as she watched the stand-off.

The peddler tried to pull the money back toward himself and Neji tightened his grip, unmoving. Neither man reached for the rest of the sizable pile of money, just held on to that little portion as if it represented the whole.

"I'm going to take my winnings, old man—I won them, they belong to me." Neji let the dead calm in his voice filter through, "Now let go."

The peddler looked over at Hinata, eyes both crazy with lost and anger, and he seemed like he was about to say something—only suddenly, Hinata decided she'd had enough of the melodramatic hold-ups. Reaching out, she laid her palm against the man's right shoulder and pushed her charka through, instantly deadening the nerve endings therein. The man's hand dropped away from Neji's as if it were nothing more than a thin sleeve filled with grain. He stared down at the numbed appendage as if she had just completely severed it from his body.

Neji glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing as he began to tuck the coinage into the pockets of his pants; Hinata, with little else to do, kept an eye on the man and waited. When all the money was gathered, they stepped away from the table together, turning.

"Wait!" The peddler wailed on a breath, "Wait, please! Fix what ya've done to me!" He seemed to pleading at Hinata's back, Neji noted; his lovely cousin did stop walking but she didn't turn to face the man. Instead, the fool groveled helplessly behind his table, not so big-and-bad anymore.

"Please," he whimpered, "Please! Have mercy! I can't feel it at all!" He looked at Neji, who was watching with ample fascination and then back at Hinata. "Please! How will I work and make a living without my arm? Please!"

At this, Hinata glanced over her shoulder—finally. For a moment, Neji wasn't sure whose eyes he was looking at, because that coldness, that chill—that couldn't possibly be Hinata, his Hinata. Could it?

The peddler seemed to realize it as well—or rather, he saw the twist to the girl's lips, because he swallowed thickly and stopped calling after her. And when Hinata spoke, her voice was calm but held that underlying energy that Neji could only describe as disgust.

"Ever since we stepped foot into this outpost, I've seen and heard too much of the degenerated, perverse nature; I'm tired of it. Your arm will return to its proper functionality in few hours time; until then, if its imparity keeps you from lying hands on some unsuspecting female or feeling as if you're so superior and worthy, then I've just tacked on another added plus. Perhaps this will teach you a lesson about cheating and the methods by which you live."

The man was staring at her in something akin to a stupor.

"And if it doesn't, then I pray to all the gods worshipped in these lands that the next person to admonish you is not as kind as myself." And just like that, she was turning away again.

Neji blinked twice, surprised and pleased in a way that he couldn't begin to examine at the moment; he did know, however, that seeing Hinata put that man in place had been one of the most endearing moments in all their history together. It was just so…unreal.

And damned sexy too.

He took three large steps and was at her side immediately as she strode down the street, her head held high and her eyes focused on some distant path he couldn't see. She walked onward with determination and steel in her eyes—for nearly twenty minutes. Eventually, Neji felt himself safe enough to touch her and did so, halting her progress. She looked at him and blinked, surprised, as if just remembering he was there. "Neji-kun?"

He nodded, "We need provisions." He looked over her shoulder and gestured at the little general store, "We'll stop in there and get what we need and some packs as well and then we'll move on to food."

Hinata nodded, glad to follow in his lead at the moment. She started to turn toward the store when Neji's voice broke in again. "But not yet…"

"What?" She glanced back at him, confused.

Neji shook his head firmly and reached out to take her by the forearm. "First stop is this way…clothes." He could see the little boutique shops at the end of the row.

Hinata's feet dragged a bit, "We can do that after we eat, Neji-kun." Her stomach was growling loudly now that she'd thought about food, but she couldn't bring herself to be more forceful about it than that. The Hinata of steel will was gone for the moment.

Neji shook his head, "We do it now." He dragged her further along.

"Why?" Hinata managed to gasp out as they neared the store front. There was a horrible stitch in her side and it made it heard to breathe.

Neji stopped abruptly and spun her around to face him, eyes colliding with her own. She shook for a moment under his intense scrutiny, feeling unnerved. What was that lurking in the corners of his eyes? In the set of his jaw and the way his lips curved upward at the corner?

She felt something like velvety fingers of warmth spread up her arms and neck.

And then Neji looked down and away, breaking contact. "Because…," he began thickly, "If just one more man looks at you like that, I'll be forced to teach all of them how best to respect a lady and their betters."

Hinata stood there, stunned…and then smiled, understanding. She patted Neji's arm softly and ducked her head until she could capture his gaze with her own. She could feel the smile pulling at her lips and that mischievous tendency rising inside her.

"Neji-kun, if my breasts so distracted you, all you had to do was say so."

Startled, Neji looked up and nearly fell backward in his haste to right himself; Hinata was already walking away, to the door of a little boutique with a host of many-pocketed pants and hoodies in the window. He watched her walk in and just stood staring at her through the glass panes of the front panel as she made her way around the store, smiling and no doubt very pleased with herself.

Little vixen threw me off guard…

But of course, there wasn't really a person elsewhere in the world who could do it quite like Hinata could, now was there?

A silly smile slipped over his lips as he decided that maybe the last twenty-four hours or so had knocked him into a ridiculous mind-set—but he didn't care. With the heavy feel of coins in his pocket, he followed Hinata's route and entered the store and headed straight for the male's section.

Nearly an hour later, they were done shopping; each had on new, inconspicuous clothing and their old clothes had been discarded behind the shop in a large dumpster. Neji counted out the coinage for their clothing and they left to hurry back down the street to the general store; there they bought two travel packs and some along-the-road necessities that they couldn't do without for much longer. When that was done as well and everything was packed away in those new bags of there's, Neji once again counted out the coins for payment. At the end of it all, he noted, they'd barely put a dent in their coinage.

Thank you, old peddler.

When they could no longer wait, they traveled back down the street and searched for a place to eat…and yet, in an outpost like this, where there should have been an eatery on every corner, they could scarcely find one. All the ones they passed were boarded up and closed or abandoned and broken in to.

The cousins shared a glance because, though they did have road rations among their new provisions, the rations were just that…for the road. It would be better serving to find an eatery in town.

And finally, after twenty minutes of fruitless searching, they did.

A third down the way, they found a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant—a ramen bar, really—that made Hinata wince and Neji shrug. "If this is all there is…" And then they went it.

Fifteen minutes and no more; the food was neither great nor terrible and that in itself was a blessing. At only a little past noon, they were both standing at the meager gate that served as an entrance or exit at the far side of the outpost. Packs slung over their shoulders, they glanced at each other.

Neji nodded down the path, "We cannot return to Konoha and we must skirt the Sound territories carefully; venturing there would be nearly as dangerous to us as returning to the village."

"Hai."

He paused for a moment, "You understand?"

Hinata blinked at him, "Of course, Neji-kun. Orochimaru is much discussed by Tsunade-sama; as her student, I have heard of the evils he committed." She glanced down, "And still does, according to her."

Neji nodded solemnly. Yet another thing Hinata had given up by coming along—her place as Tsunade's prized pupil. He chose not to dwell on what the Elders had stolen from them both.

"Hai. We cannot go to Sand because we'll be most easily recognized—and because of the treaty. It is forbidden for those in Sand to mix in the affairs of any private parties from Konoha, which expressly includes the clan."

Hinata nodded. "Hai. And it would place those in Suna and the Kazekage himself in a predicament if anyone should find out we were there."

"Correct. And so, I propose we go to Wind Country, but stay as far from Suna as possible—and maintain a reasonably disguised while there. We cannot travel too far without a more thought out plan…but we cannot stay so close, either."

Hinata hummed, "That makes sense, Neji-kun." She smiled up at him, "Perfect sense. I believe that is the best plan of action."

"I'm glad." Neji smiled at her and for one insane second, he marveled at how simple it was with Hinata, where with Tenten it had always been fights and second-guessing one another and not enough preparation.

And too many accidents.

His jaw tightened and he glanced away. "Let's go. We're killing daylight."

"Hai."

They set off down the road in the normal, basic way most other people traveled; a quarter mile down the road and out of sight of the outpost, they broke off into the thick woods lining the sides of their path and took to the high branches of the trees.

((o))

It was noon now and the sun was beating down hot on Konoha—and he wanted to kill someone.

Shiranui Genma would have preferred to spend the day at the hot springs, soaking up the mineral water and enjoying the break from his last mission—but no, things could never go his way. Stupid little errands, always needing running.

He chewed on the end of his senbon miserably and glanced over at his present company.

Shizune was not, perhaps, the most talkative of companions, but she was some sort of entertainment; looking halfway between worried and indignant, she was biting the end of one manicured thumbnail absently.

They both knew why they were here, of course—because the two stupid chuunin who should have been running this stupid errand were nowhere to be seen, the little sods; Genma figured he was just lounging around in the Tower at the wrong time or else he would never have gotten picked up to go wait outside the Hyuuga compound for a stupid answer to a stupider question.

Everything was stupid until he got in his first cup of coffee.

"The smell that came sailing over those walls two nights ago—and the flames—were unsettling. The smoke is still hanging around to some degree and I'm concerned. Go inquire at the gate." And that was how Tsunade had so flippantly told—no commanded them—to waist their afternoon.

But introspection was quickly becoming boring and he took to sweeping his gaze around and around, counting the number of fallen flowers that littered the grounds on this side of the high retaining wall.

Just as he was getting to the five-hundredth blossom, the sliding outer door opened to reveal a very old man and a younger, middle aged one. Both, Genma noted instantly, bore the proud, unblemished skin of their foreheads proudly.

"You are the Hokage's emissaries?"

Shizune stepped forward, anxious. "Yes. We've come to inquire into the events that occurred two nights ago. Smoke and flames were reported."

The older man nodded, "Hai. We had a small incident with some would-be arsonists. The fire was set but spread only to the stables and kennels."

Genma blinked, "The kennels?"

The middle aged man nodded once. "Yes, and the stables. Several of the horses and dogs we keep were burned alive. Perhaps that explains any reports you might have gotten about the smell of charred flesh."

Shizune nodded, looking dumbfounded.

Genma felt his eyes narrow and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Very well. We were also told to ask after the whereabouts of Hyuuga Hinata and Hyuuga Neji; neither have reported to their captains in ANBU or sought leave from their departments."

The middle-aged man answered again. "The fire, as I said, looked to be the work of arsonists. We, of the Council, have decided that until everyone can be fully and thoroughly questioned, none may leave the grounds."

Shizune's brow furrowed, "But…their teams are scheduled for deployment this evening—patrol."

The older man cut her a cold glance. "The Council will allow those who have been cleared to leave in as soon as three days time—until then, the Godaime Hokage will have to accept that in the Great Clan, she has no power to command us otherwise." He tapped his gnarled walking stick on the ground, "We lend our warriors to the Hokage because the Hyuuga is the noblest clan of this village—not because we have to."

Shizune, looking properly cowed but not feeling a bit better about it, looked down at her heeled sandals.

Genma was not so easily dismissed. "This is to be your official word to the Hokage?" He met the man's gaze squarely.

The old man nodded firmly, eyes narrowed. "It is; now be-gone before I have you brought up on harassment charges before the Hokage's Council."

Flicking his tongue against the razor-fine point of his senbon, Genma nodded, "Very well." He turned on his heel briskly and began to walk down the tree-lined path to the main road. "Come along, Shizune-chan."

The Hokage's assistant looked up, startled that she had almost been left behind in her contemplations; a few hurried steps and she was at Genma's side, glancing over her shoulder to look back at the closing door of the Hyuuga compound.

"My, my, that was quick."

Genma and Shizune paused on their head-long walk down the road and directed their glances upward…to find Hatake Kakashi balancing precariously on an electrical wire that ran along the main road.

The silver haired man waved down, "Yo!" And then came to stand down beside them, touching Shizune first on the shoulder and then shaking hands with Genma. "What's the news? Did they give you a story or a tale?"

"A tale," Genma answered honestly, a sigh tacking onto the end of the sentence. "They sent us two Elders who wouldn't say much except there was something about arson and burning horses and dogs—and no one being allowed to leave until they'd been thoroughly interrogated."

Kakashi blinked his one visible eye, "They said all that? Those Elders have gotten a little chattier since I last met one of them."

Shizune made a miffed sound in the back of her throat and both men ignored her.

"Anyway," Genma continued, "It seems like ANBU is going to be short two, at least. They said they aren't going to start letting anyone out for at least three days."

Kakashi sighed, "Joy, joy…extra fill-in patrols for us unlucky elites." He smiled behind his mask and Genma echoed the expression around his senbon.

Shizune sighed—loudly. Genma rolled his eyes, "What?"

The Hokage's assistant crossed her arms and focused them both in a narrow-eyed glare. "I don't believe a line of that story they told us. It doesn't seem—whole."

Silence.

And then…

"Way to go, Investigator. Any other insightful bits of information?" Genma bit down on the end of his senbon to keep from spouting an more.

Shizune actually looked hurt; "I was just offering my opinion."

Genma just stared at her as if she'd grown three entirely repulsive, monstrous heads and was offering to get down and service him.

Kakashi patted Shizune on the shoulder again, "Don't take it personally, Shizune-chan—when Genma doesn't have his coffee, he gets…cranky." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and began to pull her along with him, down the road back to Konoha. "He's really not sociable until well after three o'clock."

Trailing just a few steps behind, Genma grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "Porn-loving monger, coffee-hating pervert…"

Kakashi smiled widely behind the mask, "Yep—definitely around three o'clock."

Shizune laughed a little and even dared a glance over her shoulder at her sulking errand partner. "And we still have to go report into Tsunade-sama, now."

Genma's shoulders drooped horrifically low and Kakashi chuckled.

Chewing on his senbon and wishing he had a major artery handy to puncture, Genma thought wistfully of a steaming cup of coffee and groaned, miserable.

((o))

Within one of the audience chambers secreted away in the central-most building of the Hyuuga compound, four figures sat around on floor cushions, none saying anything to the others.

Absolute silence.

And then the door slide open and two more figures entered—an old man and a middle-aged one. They took their seats on the empty cushions they had respectively abandoned some moments ago and settled in.

Silence again.

"Have the bodies been disposed of?" The old man who had just entered asked. He was called Titus and he was among the oldest of the council. Heartless, ruthless, there was no trace of regard or repentance in his voice, just questioning.

A woman nodded; called Himacha, she was nearly as old and gnarled as Titus. "Hai. What was left of them was buried in the old gardens behind the Branch quarters. That place, so overgrown, will never be suspect." She watched the others nod and then asked a question of her own, "Are the emissaries still standing at our gates?"

Tegan, the middle-aged man who had gone with Titus before, shook his head; "No, they've gone. They were told as planned."

Titus nodded as well, reaffirming, "That will buy us the necessary time to set all to order."

Another male, seated more comfortably than formally, cocked his head to the side, "Is Hiashi still confined?"

Titus's brow crinkled dangerously, "Of course, Asuki—and where else would he be? We cannot have him running loose now." He scowled, "As it is, he's done nothing but demand to know why we removed Hanabi-sama from the cell and where his other daughter and nephew are."

A female, younger than most of the others, wrinkled her nose in distaste. "The whelp of Hizashi?"

Himacha frowned, "Don't look so surprised, Inoya. The boy escaped the cleansing, apparently with the aid or accompaniment of that failed daughter of Hiashi's."

Titus nodded, "As we speak, I have a discreet assistant searching the village for them; they must be in hiding, perhaps with their friends."

Another woman, seated next to Asuki sighed. "And what of Hiromo? Is he still confined as well?"

Titus hummed. "Indeed, Sumi; the old fool sided with his damned son and does not see the true wisdom of the actions we've taken here. He and Hiashi will be released though—in time." He gave Sumi his most grandfatherly smile, wasted on a woman only three decades younger than himself.

Asuki signed, not happy. "Very well, then. As you say." He cleared his throat and looked around the circle of seated Elders, "Now, we must be off to prayers." He bowed her head over his hands, "Even the wise must atone to the gods."

Sumi raised an eyebrow, "Even when the course of action taken is apparently justified by right?" She poised the question softly, amused.

Asuki nodded, "Especiallythen."

The youngest of their number gasped, her lips making a perfectly angry 'O' shape. "Hold you tongue, Asuki-san!"

Sumi blinked, not pleased. "Sumimasen, Inoya-san, but perhaps you should hold your own; Asuki is my husband, not yours." She smiled thinly at the other woman, Sumi herself only three years older.

Inoya's lips tightened and puckered as she stared at Sumi in open dislike.

Tegan cut in, sweeping his hand in front of Inoya's face to break her stare. He glanced askance at his consort and then to the others. "Enough…enough."

Silence.

"I think we should attend prayers, Elder Titus. Let us go." Tegan rose up first, taking the initiative to break the awkward air around them. Young and powerful in the clan, he was, nevertheless, not very comfortable with close-quarters arguments. He preferred to make his moves in the field or on a shogi board. "Come! To prayers."

Titus smiled at his son in open acknowledgement. "To prayers."

The other Elders rose stiffly, not looking at one another. For a group that had just planned the massive annihilation of an entire branch of their family—no pun intended—they were not the most inter-connected bunch.

Asuki and Sumi, walking in the very back of the bunch that exited the audience chamber, were the only married couple. Both of moderate old-age, they'd been promoted to their positions by Hiashi some many, many years ago, following the death of his wife. Both of mild temperament and jaded outlooks on the world around them, they had only been cursory planners of the Branch extermination, suggesting the sparing of Hiromo, Hiashi and Hinata rather than their immediate deaths with the others of the "bad blood". Already they regretted their choice.

Titus and his son Tegan were the power…and of course, Tegan's Inoya, who was more a pretty face and a vote in the council than anything else. And then there was old Himacha, who held out an everlasting burning torch for Titus; every single member knew she would side with him no matter what. That was not even a question.

And Hiromo, the seventh council member? Asuki and Sumi discussed quietly in hushed whispers where they might be keeping him—there were scarce prisons within the compound that could hold the father of both Hiashi and Hizashi.

Hiromo, wise and beloved and the oldest of them all. Hiromo, imprisoned in his own home and subject to wills more malicious than his own.

"I do not like the way Titus smiles at Tegan—the boy is his pet project, his shadow." Asuki murmured the words too low for anyone walking in front of them to catch.

Sumi bowed her head down next to his, "And what do you expect, husband? Tegan is his son…and we all know Titus never agree with the succession of Hiromo to the heirdom; a mere second son, he couldn't be proud to avoid the curse-seal…no, he had to plot to overthrow his brother's line all-together."

Asuki nodded, "Hiashi's announcement about the curse seals—their removal—that was only the spark that sent up the whole pile. This has been building for…decades. Generations."

Sumi sighed, "And we've taken part in all of it." She looked down, ashamed. "I cannot say much for us, husband, except that I hope the gods have mercy on her souls for those few we managed to save."

Walking next to her, Asuki bowed his head lower, "Hai."

The line of silent Elders passed through the central building to the Head-Family temple where the pleasant incenses burned continuously. The soft breeze of the inner corridor stirred the little crystal chimes that stood in every free-space, setting up a delicate song that rose to the rafters.

The Elders filed in and took their places, legs folding beneath them as they went down to bow to the statue of the kami. Asuki and Sumi, trailing behind, bowed much lower than the rest and touched their brows flatly against the floor.

May the Gods have mercy on our souls…

The priest began his song and six more voices followed, rising up to heaven, some more sincere in their pleading for forgiveness than the others.

((o))

Review peeps! It's only polite after I stayed up and worked so hard for you. ((sniffle)). Thank you, all. All you loyal readers who encourage me. I live off your reviews some days.

((smile))

Happy Thanksgiving, Harvest and All-That-Jazz, peeps!

-erena. g.t rose