Author: Mina Vantolak
Rating: G
Beta:istoria Thanks a bunch!
Summary: What if Neji hadn't survived the fight with Kidoumaru? Hinata's thoughts the night before his funeral.
Tomorrow, they would be burying him. But tonight, he was hers.
Hinata looked down at her cousin, her niisan. It really did look like he was sleeping. He was so calm, so peaceful. Given the wounds his black kimono covered, the irony made her sick.
She reached down into the coffin to clutch his cold hand. Rigor had passed hours ago, and his body was limp again. Lifting his hand so she could hold it in both of hers, she tried to will her warmth to go to him. "Wake up, Niisan," she whispered as tears stung her eyes. "Wake up."
But he didn't.
It wasn't fair! Why!? Why did he have to die?
Why did he have to die, before she had been able to say goodbye?
"Niisan..." Her voice cracked as she held his hand against her heart. She had always loved him. Even when he hated her, scorned her, put up with her only because she was head family, even when they fought each other at the Chuunin exam. She understood him perhaps better than anyone, and she loved him because she understood him.
She understood the slight smile on his lips that even death couldn't wipe away. One of her hands let go of his to brush a loose strand of hair away from his forehead. His forehead was clear like a member of the head family's; the curse seal gone. That was why she understood his smile. In death, he was free.
And she was alone.
"Why did you leave me?"
That hurt more than anything else. After the Chuunin exam they had started to get along. He was still impatient with her, still critical, but he was also more willing to help her, especially with her footwork. He had begun to see her, rather than just a spoiled child from the head family. No one else wanted to see her. They just saw Hyuuga Hiashi's weakling eldest daughter. Shino and Kiba saw her, she supposed, but it wasn't the same.
They weren't Neji-niisan.
She stood beside the coffin for a long time, holding his hand while the other stroked his hair. She had never touched his hair before, and it was softer than she would have thought. Her eyes traveled from her face to where his other hand lay on his stomach, his hitae-ate gleaming softly in the candlelight. She slowly closed her eyes, then opened them again. Funny how though he had only worn his hitae-ate for two years, and yet when she pictured him, it was always with it on. He looked naked without it on his forehead, but it was the branch family's wish that he be buried with his forehead bare.
She set his hand back down, and slowly untied her own hitae-ate from around her neck. After folding the cloth carefully under the metal plate, she moved his hands aside to replace his hitae-ate with her own. That way, at least, he could take a part of her with him, and she could keep a part of him with her. It was a poor substitute, but it was something, at least.
"I miss you, Niisan," she said, clutching his hitae-ate in both hands. "I miss you so much. But I hope...I hope that wherever you are, you're happy now."
She lapsed back into silence, the only sounds her breathing and the crickets singing outside. After a while, she reached down and stroked his cheek. "Goodbye, Neji-niisan. I love you." Slowly withdrawing her hand, she left his room, quietly sliding the door shut behind her.