Disclaimer: Anything recognizable from the anime/manga Naruto isn't mine.
a/n: Enjoy!
ICHA ICHA INSPIRATION
PROLOGUE:
Tap taptap taptapity tap
Jiraiya glared at the papers sprawled across his desk, at the research he gathered from his outings to the all-girls spa. Despair marked his features as he tried, one last time, to conjure up a sexy storyline.
"It's useless," cried Jiraiya once he realized his story had strayed somewhere between naked-girl-in-bathtub and pruning-girl-still-in-bathtub. Day after day for a month, he spied on females; he smelled the different perfumes they wore; he read stacks of chick-lit; he drank fruity, liquor-laced shakes instead of sake; he dressed in female lingerie, for Gamabunta's sake! Upraising his French tips in misery, he asked of the universe what more did he have to endure to find his inner Goddess of Love again.
He dragged himself out of his chair to go drink away his miseries. He sighed deeply and shuffled out of his room wallpapered in post-its of his doodles of bras. Maybe later he would ask Naruto to perform his eighty-seventh sexy-no-jutsu of the week. He pocketed two fuzzy cotton balls custom-made for his nose just in case. Naruto's jutsu can be fatal, after all, if the nosebleed isn't staunched right away. And suicide was not on Jiraiya's agenda—as of yet.
One morning, Hinata awoke to find mutated twin mosquito bites about a hand's span apart from each other, and curiously on the exact same plane as each other, on her chest. One night, more than a year after that morning, she found herself enrapt in a dream, not of Naruto's eyes, though, but in one of his hands and arms and motions. A few years after that, suddenly she realized—as she was bathing—that she had become a full-fledged woman. Stunned, she squeaked in harmony with the yellow rubber ducky she had dropped on the floor in dismay.
She grabbed a towel and staggered to her quarters in a daze. When had she grown up? How had so many years past without her noticing, without her losing her stutter or timidity or crush—no, indescribably more than a crush—on Naruto? It was impossible! Her life had past her by and still Naruto was not by her side as she had dreamed of for so long. Still, she had not become strong or brave.
Then, as her bewilderment left her, determination not to be passive anymore set in. "I h-have to rid myself of these f-feelings. I c-c-cannot… I n-need to be a st-strong woman," Hinata said to herself.
So, as soon as she donned her clothing, she raced to her cousin Neji's door and mustered her courage to knock, blocking her fear of his cold behavior, bitterness, rampant mood swings, megalomaniacal tendencies, etc. from her mind. She slid the door open at his entreating, "Hai?"
"N-N-N-N… N-N-N… Neji-nii-san?"
"Hai, Hinata-sama? What is it that you want," he asked politely, though he remained focused on the spread of Konoha Times on the table by a pot of steaming tea.
"C-could you possibly t-tell me h-how you are so st-strong, Neji-nii-san?" Hinata stared at the ground as she poked her index fingers together nervously.
Neji turned from the paper to analyze her, and then turned back to face the sparring square, the center of the house, thoughtful. He began, "Strength stems from belief in oneself. At least, the strength you're looking for," he said cryptically. "I would suggest shedding that stance of yours that proclaims your vulnerability to the entire world." Hinata made an effort to lift her head and look straight into his white eyes. She could feel success rush through her blood as she completed the first task Neji had assigned her—until Neji completed his thought.
"That is, if I hadn't known you for years, also knowing that that's a pipe dream at this point so late in life."
Hinata let her head fall despondently.
Neji paused, took a sip of his tea, and then continued. "Actually, Hinata-sama, there may be hope."
a/n:
R&R (and, no, that does not mean rest and relaxation)
This is a WIP, so I cannot promise quick updates. I also have a lot of school work, which will be my priority.