Epilogue

The Chinese legend of Qi Xi tells the tale of a fairy princess who descended from the heavens and married a mortal. The Goddess of Heaven, furious at the match, summoned the princess home before taking out her hairpin and carving a river across the sky to separate the ill fated lovers; you can still see their constellations on a clear night sky, divided by the Milky Way. Fortunately, after seeing their grief and yearning for each other, the Goddess of Heaven took pity on them and allowed them to meet on a bridge over the river – once a year, on the seventh day of the seventh month... ... ...

Neji closed his eyes as he stood in the field, tall stalks of grass a shifting mass of shadows by his feet. In the cold of the early morning the air was crisp, clean; the faint scent of wild chrysanthemums wafted over him momentarily before being borne away by the sharp, stinging wind. Isako was still sleeping, bathed in a thin wash of velvet blue. A peaceful quiet was infused in every nook and cranny inside the small town; where he was standing, on this familiar spot, the only sound was of the wind whistling softly through the grass and up the bamboo shafts that strengthened the walls.

He had asked the Hokage for one day of leave without explaining his intentions, knowing that she could guess easily anyway. Tsunade had merely scrutinized him for a long moment before smirking and granting him his request – a luxury, considering the fact that the war with Sound was still raging as fiercely as ever.

"Tell her to stay away from the Sand-Grass border if she can. We're about to launch a new offensive in that area; I doubt she'll find much business there once the shinobi close in," she had instructed him in a short, clipped tone before dismissing him with a casual flick of her wrist. "Don't forget to bring me back some of those lovely rice cakes they make over there."

A raised eyebrow, a polite bow. "Hn. Thank you, Tsunade-sama."

They had not communicated since her departure from Konoha last year, but Neji did not worry that Tenten would not be there when he went to find her. It was not a difficult task to guess where she would come to meet him – there was really, only one place burned into both their histories that was both significant enough and within the safe boundaries of her exile. The question of when, though...

"Seven years, gone without a trace. Seven fucking years, Tenten."

That, too, could be answered easily.

- Seven of the town's most wanted had been found dead -

No, Neji did not doubt that Tenten would be here today.

"She's waiting for you."

And so it was that on the seventh day of the seventh month, Hyuuga Neji stood once more under the shadow of Isako, a hand tracing the scars in the wall that commemorated their fight; each mark carved into the crumbling brick, each puncture and cavity a dusty reminder of Tenten's liberation from her ghosts and the gradual easing of the dull ache in his own heart. He had run through the night to arrive before dawn. A few weak rays of light came from faintly glowing fissures of sky peeping through the heavy blanket of clouds.

A subtle shift in the chakra patterns around him; a quiet hiss and the muted thud of a kunai embedding itself into the loose soil by his feet.

"Neji."

He could not stop the gentle smile that broke across his face when her voice drifted down. Neji opened his eyes and looked heavenwards, gaze softening when he saw the familiar outline of the woman standing atop the wall. Tenten was standing taller, straighter than the last time he had seen her, a hand placed firmly on her hip. Then she stepped off the ledge, plummeting headfirst towards him and suddenly he remembered the way she had fallen the last time they were here, the way she had looked with her blades poised and ready and the hurt that had stained her eyes –

- Only this time she was smiling, arms spread wide open like she was learning how to fly, and her eyes were clear and bright with the certainty that the worst was over - that she was young and still in love, and that even if happily ever after never came for them they would be alright.

The second year, Tenten was the one waiting for him, sitting cross legged against the wall. When she stood up there were grass stains on her pants, but she didn't seem to mind as she tiptoed up to kiss him on the cheek.

The third year, she brought with her three month old twins. That night Neji watched their sons sleep between them on the bed, one hand brushing against their smooth, unblemished foreheads and the other cupping Tenten's cheek.

"Take them back to Konoha," she told him. "Tell them their mother died on a mission. Anything."

Neji understood her reasons but did not miss the look on her face as she looked away, staring at the ceiling with her eyes reddening and moist at the corners. He reached for her hand under the covers. "Thank you." I love you.

The ninth and tenth year, Tenten never came.

Neji waited for her both times until dusk came and duty called him back to Konoha.

The eleventh year, the war ended. Isako was destroyed in the process by a sand tsunami directed by none other than Gaara of the Sand. Tsunade died with an arm through Orochimaru's heart, but not before appointing Uzumaki Naruto as her successor. One of his first acts as Hokage was to absolve the order of exile on Tenten; Neji tried to find her afterwards, searching for half a year across the Shinobi countries.

He came back alone, stopping on the way at what remained of Isako. A small length of the Eastern Walls was still standing; Neji stared at the windswept, rugged landscape until darkness descended before walking away.

He never looked back.

He had missed her touch; the last time she had held him was a year ago and he had been dying in her arms, barely conscious and bleeding his life away as she dragged him back to Konoha, to Tsunade.

He shivered when deft fingers traced gently over the scar that carved into the side of his waist and tapered into the silver strands of a spider web at his hipbone. Her hands were cold, fingertips dancing lightly over heated skin. He caught her by the wrist and she lifted her gaze to his face.

"Does it still hurt?"

His hair slipped thickly over his shoulders as he leaned down to brush his lips over hers. "When I miss you."

She pulled away. "All the time, then?" she teased softly, but his eyes were serious when he tugged her back to him gently, leaning forwards to kiss her again.

"All the time."

Fin.