A/N: Yeah. So this is what I've been working on instead of the other story, I'll admit. But this...I'm not sure. What do you think? I await with baited breath to see.

Neji sits at the low table in the corner of the shrine and watches the rain. The bamboo fountain has long been silenced by the weight of each droplet, the unassuming force that wreaks destruction, if you give it time. The droplets fall from the leaves, from the roof; they come together in an affirmation of natural attraction, and they wind past Neji's feet, languidly, cohesively. He has been sitting there for what seems like hours, telling himself that it was meditation, but really not being able to shake the feeling that he was waiting for something. It doesn't matter – no one will miss him anyway, and the way the droplets of rain are glinting on the blades of grass is infinitely more captivating than any thought of safety, or perhaps obligation.

A storm bird begins its ethereal wailing somewhere behind him, and a shiver runs down Neji's back. Help me, it cries, save me, love me, hold me. I'm scared. Tell me what to do. If he had a mother, Neji imagines that he would go to her now. But his memory of her is no more comforting than the dampness of his clothes or the chill of the air – passing, ephemeral. The night is dark and impenetrable, and Neji watches it without his Byakugan. If blindness is what he has been living, then perhaps changing his ways will permit him to see.

He wonders how it got to this stage – here, alone. He has always been alone, but now the word rings true in all its facets. His team is dead, their spirits long departed, leaving only cold, bloated corpses that linger behind him, flashes of white in the corner of his eye. Neji finds it bitterly ironic that he, the genius, the one with the least life and energy of them all, is condemned to stay among the trees and the sky and the birds while they fester beneath the earth. He caresses Tenten's broken hitai-ate, but cannot bring himself to wish that he were in her place. He has always been selfish, a testament to his upbringing, where pride and honour always outweigh loyalty. The storm bird wails again, closer, and Neji loses himself to his thoughts.

--

Later, much later, after what seems like eons, a pinprick of light in the distance and a cloud of smoke unlike the mist demand Neji's attention. He quietly slips the hitai-ate into his pocket, and isn't at all surprised to see Shikamaru emerging from the night. He enters the shrine, all masculine grace and smouldering intensity that Neji has never quite believed he himself has mastered, although others say differently. Shikamaru's clothes are soaking and he looks like he's covered in diamonds and Neji wonders absently if it's wrong to be turned on on the anniversary of his only friends' deaths. But then Shikamaru looks at him, and he forgets how to think.

He allows himself to be hauled up and led away from the shrine, from Tenten and Lee and Gai, and into Shikamaru's apartment. It's dark and close, and Neji can see a lump on the bed in the other room, and an oversized fan leaning against the kitchen table and he puts two and two together. But then Shikamaru tells him to wait for a second, and Neji watches as he goes into the bedroom and leans over the lump, whispering something that doesn't quite reach Neji's ears. Then Shikamaru comes out, shutting the door quietly.

Neji is shivering slightly from the rain and from something else, but takes comfort that Shikamaru's hand is icy when he wraps it around Neji's wrist, leading him silently into the bathroom. Neji watches in the half-light as Shikamaru pulls his wet clothes off and throws them on the floor, standing before him naked and glorious and fiery with those coal black eyes. Then Shikamaru moves forward, calloused hands more gentle and tender than ever before, stripping Neji of his clothes but also of his dignity, his façade. Neji feels the first tear teeter and spill over onto his cheek, where it is quickly lapped up by a forgiving tongue. Another follows, and another, until Neji finds himself under a stream of hot water, sobbing, real tears mingling with fake, but it doesn't really matter when you have a warm body wrapped around you.

Neji doesn't remember moving, but when he wakes, he is comfortably ensconced in the covers of the spare bed, the pale light of dawn seeping through the window and illuminating Shikamaru's back and buttocks. It is perhaps the most erotic sight Neji has ever seen, but instead of touching he merely watches. When he awakes once more, it is morning proper and Shikamaru is gone. He hears voices in the other room, a male and a female, one talking very low and softly and the other with short, sharp barks of disapproval. Neji dresses silently, and leaves through the bedroom window, unwilling to dispel any of the enchantments Shikamaru cast over him last night.

--

The anniversary is over for another year - the pale ghosts receding into the shadows once more - and the fragrant, delicate harvest of spring festers and bursts into an oppressive heat. Neji sets about easing himself back into daily routine, but instead finds himself staring out of windows or at the tiles in the shower or at himself in the mirror and wondering if he has ever felt so empty.

He hears Temari before he sees her, boisterous comments and raucous laughter echoing in the quiet restaurant. When she flops herself down on the other side of the table, Neji just stays silent and tries desperately not to imagine how pretty Shikamaru's cock would look sliding out of her.

"Go and fuck Shikamaru again," she says bluntly, her eyes glinting ever so slightly, "He's been fucking ecstatic ever since that night, and it's a nice change, you know?"

Neji feels his mouth fall open as he tries to process what she has just said, his basic instinct causing him to do a quick check of the place to see who might of overheard. Temari is obviously not impressed.

"What, did I stutter?" she says, leaning forward to steal a slice of salmon sashimi from Neji's plate, "I want you to fuck him again – tonight. I have to go back to Suna in a few days and I want him in a good mood for our parting festivities."

Neji wants to tell her that they didn't just fuck, but rather Shikamaru bathed him and touched him and brought him back from the edge of a place that's far worse in reality than in his nightmares. But the look in her eyes betrays something more sinister, more desperate than Neji first realises, and he finds himself just nodding once. Temari smiles briefly, revealing small teeth and a wild, almost feral aspect to her personality that Neji has never had the fortune of seeing up till now.

"Well, you know where to find him," she says, rising swiftly and exiting.

Neji stays in the restaurant for a while longer, his tea slowly going cold as he stares at the marks on the table and thinks about life, and love, and coincidence. A peal of thunder in the distance marks the coming of a storm.

--

Unsurprisingly, Shikamaru is asleep on the couch, a book resting on his stomach, when Neji lets himself in through the back door. The wind whips at the curtains through an open window, bringing with it the first droplets of rain, and for a moment Neji is struck by how calm

Shikamaru looks. He pads over to the seat opposite the couch and sits quietly, contenting himself with simply watching. Time passes, and Shikamaru does not stir. Neji looks out the window and hears the steady beat of the rain, smells the dank scent of the moisture in the air, and

"It's rude to come into someone's house uninvited, you know," Shikamaru drawls suddenly, eyes closed and looking, to all intents and purposes, still fast asleep. Neji smiles, and ignores the statement.

"How long have you been awake?" he asks instead. Shikamaru shifts slightly, faint traces of a grin at the corner of his mouth.

"Since you came in," he replies. Neji snorts and gets up to look out the window. The rain is heavy now, pale, icy sheets sailing across the street. There is a flash of lightning.

"How thoughtful of you," Neji says, enjoying the feeling of a handful of cold droplets splattering on his face. He hears the other man get up and stretch, and then suddenly he's right behind Neji, hands finding their way underneath his shirt and teeth nipping at his neck, and what were his qualms about all this, again?

"Temari sent me, you know," Neji whispers as he places a kiss on the inside of Shikamaru's wrist. Shikamaru's hand tightens momentarily, a frown forming on his face, but it's as over as quickly as it began, and Neji finds himself being shoved roughly into the bedroom.

They make love to the rhythm of the storm, each lightning bolt a thrust, each peal of thunder a glance or a touch, and each droplet of rain a kiss. Afterwards, they lie entangled on the bed, listening as the thunder rolls further and further away until all that's left is a light mist of rain.

"It's funny," Shikamaru murmurs, an idle hand pulling through Neji's hair, "It's been raining every time we've been together." Neji stares at the ceiling, and sees the paint peeling and cracking in the corners.

"It's fate," he says finally. Shikamaru lifts his head up from where it was resting on Neji's chest and looks at him strangely.

"What is?" he asks.

"The rain," Neji says, gesturing vaguely at the window, "People…don't act normally when it rains. It affects them, it makes them do things and say things they shouldn't. It's why you're with Temari. And why I leave here when the rain stops." Shikamaru says nothing for a while, but just stares at Neji, his face carefully blank.

"I think of you whenever it rains," he says after a while, sitting up properly and straddling Neji. "I know, it's pathetic, but I can't help it. I always have. And—"

"And you always will?" Neji interrupts with a smirk, tugging on a loose lock of Shikamaru's hair to bring him closer. "It must be something about my eyes." Shikamaru snorts affectionately.

"Shut up," he says, and kisses Neji long and slow, apologetic.

--

When morning comes with its golden sun and clear, blue sky, Neji is at home in his own bed, staring idly at the swirling dust in the shafts of light. He thinks about summer, and the seasons, and how the rains will leave soon and how all he'll have is the lonely reassurance of the dry, winter months. Neji believes he saw Temari as he left Shikamaru's apartment earlier that morning, a shady figure in the alleyway, but it was dark, and he can't be sure. He closes his eyes tightly as images of the two of them together assault his mind, until all he can see are little explosions of light dancing on a vast and infinite background of black.

That day he sees his uncle, who talks to him endlessly of clan politics, of Hinabi, of marrying, until finally he tells Neji that he is to be sent on a mission in Wave Country until the end of the month. Neji is carefully neither surprised nor reluctant but merely resigned, and he makes arrangements to leave the following day. He goes as far as actually writing Shikamaru a note to let him know that he will be away, but when he reaches the apartment he can't bring himself to slide it under the door. Neji knows that their relationship, however sincere it may be, is definitely not one of I love yous, nor take cares.

The mission is straightforward, and Neji collects the intelligence that he is told to quickly and effectively. But in some ways, being in Wave Country is more like torture than torture itself – a storm rolls in off the coast almost every night, and from the cave he has found, Neji is forced to listen to the rains and remember. There is one close call – Wave shinobi somehow learn of his presence and ambush him one night – and Neji truly believes for a heartbeat or two that he is going to die. But then he's up again, fighting, and he's not sure whether it was the thought of Tenten's dead face or the thought of Shikamaru's living one that spurred him on.

The journey back is a blur, and when he finally sees the gates of Konoha open and welcoming, he is so overcome with relief that he faints there and then. He vaguely remembers being picked up by strong, warm arms, and then he loses himself to sleep, glorious sleep, with the intent of catching up on all he missed over the past month.

When he awakes again, Neji is alone in a hospital room, a chill breeze wafting in from the open window. It is night, but Neji has no idea which one. He swings his legs over the bed slowly, and eases himself up, until he knows exactly which part of him hurts and how much. He lifts up the hospital gown gingerly and sees myriad bandages covering his stomach – memories of whooshing kunai soon follow. Neji dresses in his own clothes, such as they are, and leaves the hospital, thankful for not having run into any overbearing nurses in the corridor. His apartment is exactly how he left it, so he runs a bath and throws his clothes in the bin. He ends up falling asleep on the couch, too exhausted to even make it to his bed.

--

Neji wakes to the smell of cooking, and is up even before he can register his confusion, walking into the kitchen and seeing Shikamaru at the stove. He appears to be cooking bacon and eggs.

"Umm," Neji says eloquently, and Shikamaru turns, beaming.

"Oh, good," he says, turning off the heat and serving the food onto two plates, "You're awake. Why don't you sit down and enjoy some breakfast à la Shikamaru." He puts the plates on the table and looks at Neji so enthusiastically that Neji just nods mutely and does what he's told.

They eat in silence, Neji trying to wolf down as much food as quickly as possible, and Shikamaru takes the two plates away and puts them in the sink. Then he comes back over to Neji and hits him hard over the head.

"Ouch!" Neji yelps, jumping up out of his chair. He takes one look at the expression on Shikamaru's face and backs away slowly. "Now, Shikamaru…"

"You," Shikamaru says, walking up and poking Neji in the chest, "You went away for a month. Without telling me. And if that wasn't enough, you then had the guts to come home practically posthumously and to be unconscious for the best part of a week."

"Shikamaru—" Neji tries again, but is cut off by Shikamaru pushing him against the wall.

"I was worried, for fuck's sake," he says with a frown on his face.

"You're not my wife, Shikamaru," Neji says bluntly, suddenly feeling tired, "I don't have to inform you of my whereabouts at all times."

"A little common decency would be nice, though!" Shikamaru replies, affronted, "Look, I know it's our job, but you can't just leave like that."

"Why not?" Neji asks, throwing his arms up exasperatedly, "It's not like anyone misses me. And you're with Temari half the time, anyway." Shikamaru shakes his head.

"She's gone," he says, waving a hand vaguely, "I broke it off the night after you left."

"What?" Neji gasps, suddenly and rather stupidly feeling like the floor had been pulled out from under him.

"That's not the point," Shikamaru says impatiently, "I miss you when you're gone. Me! Doesn't that count, just a little bit, maybe?" Neji just stares at him, his mouth hanging open, and wonders if he may have accidentally wandered into an alternate dimension.

"Oh, my god, you've turned me into a woman," Shikamaru mutters suddenly, and goes into the living room. Neji stays where he is for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts, before following.

"I'm sorry," Shikamaru says when Neji enters, "You're probably tired. I should—I should go." The look on Shikamaru's face claws at his heart, and he's turning and walking out, and Neji realises in a moment of perfect, terrifying clarity that it's not about the rain, and it never has been.

"Wait!" he calls, rushing to the door and seeing Shikamaru turned on the front step, looking so uncharacteristically hopeful that Neji has half a mind to start laughing.

"I…"Neji begins, before realising that he doesn't actually have anything to say. So, instead, he meets Shikamaru on the step and kisses him hard, smiling into Shikamaru's lips as the other man wraps his arms around Neji's neck and kisses back.

"I get it," Neji says breathlessly when he pulls away, "I get it now." Shikamaru raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but if it means we get to do this more often, then congratulations."

Neji just smiles wanly and captures those smart lips, feeling for all the world as if he was coming home for the first time. There is a chill in the air, and behind them, a sparrow chirps. There isn't a raindrop in sight.

Night; and once again,
the while I wait for you, cold wind
turns into rain.
- Shiki, Masaoka (1867-1902).