Well, I am back for a long-overdue update. Thank you everyone who has kept up with the story, sharing your words, follows, favourites, and views they keep me coming back. I hope this chapter is worthy of your viewing.

Thank you to those who reviewed - Ayrmed and LeAwesomeOne IX - and everyone who follows and favourites. There are so many of you and thank you to everyone.

Also, a special thanks to Euregatto for her wonderful beta reading.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Naruto, as much as I wish I did, and I don't see any light at the end of this particular tunnel, so I doubt that fact is changing.
Written by: 7ShadowsUnleashed
Beta-d by: Euregatto
Posted on: 2 May, 2014

Æ

Funerals are not for the dead. The dead are as they are, long since having cast away their bodies like empty shells, and they could not care less what happened to them. No, funerals are for the living: those who remain with debts they never got the chance to pay back, words they never got to say, and unreconciled feelings they only just began to realise after the object of those feeling abandoned them.

Often times, those feelings spawn hate and anger, fuelling a pot of internal turmoil that boils until there is nothing left but an empty void. Sometimes, with time, the boiling slows to a slight roil, but it never stops. With the slightest heat it can come back stronger than before. Other times these feelings culminate to a spectacular fall into despair.

Deep in the depths, there is a light: a light that takes the form of a replacement object, and the feelings shift to this new object. Then they vanish with their holder, who is no longer the same person, or, in dramatic circumstances, they are no longer trapped within their shell, holding words and dreams inside something too fragile to hold everything their mind and heart wants to say, so they break.

The dead see this and they cannot rest easy so they return to earth to watch and, hopefully, provide some solace with their prescience.

Whether they succeed or fail … well, that remains to be seen.

Hiashi Hyūga

According to tradition, at least one member of the family must be present when a body is cremated. Hiashi Hyūga thought, taking another sip from his morning tea. I suppose the least I can do for you, brother, is to keep watch over your son until the end. He was more than willing to stand vigil over his nephew's body – in fact, he wanted to - but that was before Hinata came to him that morning.

"Father," she whispered. "I wish to stand guard over Neji. I never got to thank him for the help he gave me, so …" her voice trailed off as she realised the magnitude of her request. An embarrassed blush tinged her cheeks and she wrung her hands within the security of her kimono's voluminous sleeves.

Hiashi studied her over the rim of his teacup. "Well, is that all?" he asked.

"Um … yes, father." She shivered anxiously and tapped the tips of her pointing fingers together. "It was a foolish request. Please forgive me." She briskly bowed and turned to go.

Now she leaves as well, Hiashi told himself but shuddered at the thought. "Wait, Hinata, do not go, please sit."

His daughter grabbed a cushion from a stack along one wall and settled across from him. "You want to speak to me, Father?"

Hiashi gave a soft laugh, setting his teacup to the side. "Must there always be a reason for me to talk to you?" Hinata had no answer for that, so Hiashi continued. "You are my oldest daughter, after all, and I wish to play some part in your life. In light of the recent tragedy, I feel that I can provide at least some solace."

"Father, I …" she began.

"If you wish to stand vigil, feel free to do so, Hinata."

The girl nodded. For the first time in forever, she's relieved. "Thank you, father."

Hinata Hyūga

That night, the third night after his death, she stood vigil over a slender white-wood coffin, watching the moon as it ascended slowly into the sky. When it reached its zenith, she would draw a single slender white stick from the vase beside her cousin's coffin and light it. Then she would stand and watch until the last tiny ember was extinguished and all that remained were a few handfuls of ash and charred white bones.

His body was beautiful: his face smooth and pale, his hands crossed over his sternum, his hitai-ate tucked under his right hand … it felt wrong, so wrong, to look at him like this. She felt like an intruder in a hidden room.

"You once told me that these eyes of ours show us secrets, so can I see where you are, or is that so secret that even these white eyes will not show me your spirit? I am keeping that journal you hid under your bed. I have it here now, Neji-nii-san, and I want to read some of it with you." She pulled the book from her inner coat pocket and clasped it like a child holds a security blanket. "Please come and sit with me."

The breeze toyed with her hair, brushing it away from her face.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.' We'll start at the part you left the ribbon in." She nestled herself beside the coffin, balancing the small book on her knees, and turned to the first page.

-:-

I haven't written in a number of months, but life has been busy. Guy-sensai registered us for the chūnin exams this year, and I've been on more missions in the last couple of weeks than I would care to remember: everything from rescuing some foolish noble's lost dog to escorting someone else [tall and hairy – the details aren't important from there] from Konoha to Suna. I don't care much for escort missions, but I can live with them.

Anyway, there isn't much else to say at the moment. I'm sitting in the Hyūga family training grounds leaning against the soul tree here – a moderately-sized willow – watching everything. The sky is a clear blue, with a few clouds but not too many. There is a slight breeze, and the branches shift in its grasp.

I can tell that there is a storm coming even though the sky is clear. I don't want to be caught out in the rain with my ink, so I'll put this away for now. Besides, someone's coming and it would be embarrassing if they found this book.

-:-

"I remember that night, Neji-nii-san. The storm was so loud and the winds tore a branch from the willow tree and sent it through part of the wall. We spent all day repairing it. How could you tell? Even the byakugan cannot see the future, and we cannot see across countries, yet you knew when a storm was brewing." She laughed.

"Well, weather-master, what else went through your mind?" She flipped to the last entry.

-:-

I have to leave on another mission, but a number of things have happened since the chūnin exams, the most important being the events leading up to this mission. I would love to go into them in detail, but I will settle for bare bones at the moment.

Sasuke Uchiha - the last of his clan and one of the rookies that made it to the final rounds of the chūnin exams, the boy who possess the sharingan that lead Orochimaru here – has been captured by Orochimaru. The only shinobi to pass the chūnin exams, a rookie genius named Shikamaru Nara, has chosen me as one of his retrieval team.

For the sake of Konoha, we must succeed.

Shikamaru is anxious. I need to go.

-:-

Hinata felt tears stain her face as she looked at the sky. "It is time for you to go, Neji-nii-san."

Tenten

Tenten couldn't look at it without seeing his eyes staring back at her.

The urn was small, barely half the height of the portrait behind it, showing the face once worn by the ashes now hidden within its silver vessel.

Silver: it had to be silver. It couldn't be blue or brown or white … no, not white. Something else, like red. No, red reminded her of the blood-splattered resuscitation ruins on the floor. Red reminded her of the greatest failure she knew: the failure to save a friend. She never had considered Sasuke Uchiha a friend, or even an acquaintance: he was simply the boy from the year below her that seemed to be a lot more trouble than he was worth, but had his female classmates trailing him with the intensity of bear hounds. She likened him to Naruto Uzimaki, another troublemaker that felt useless even when he was moderately useful. He never seemed to realise how useful he had to be to outweigh his numerous failures.

That stupid urn. Why silver? Why did they have to remind her of his eyes?

Was it fun to watch people break? Could those blasted Hyūga see her heart breaking with their byakugan?

She could not take it any more. She hung her head and let the tears drip rivulets down her face. She was supposed to be stoic, unfeeling, able to carry the team when Guy-sensai and Lee broke down. She and Neji … so many foolish gossip vines had money setting on whether she and Neji would eventually come together, but they didn't seem to realise that, in the end, they were only alike in ... she sat and thought for a few moments, then felt tears drip down her face.

They were alike in more ways then she had thought.

Æ

Well, that was different, but I hope it was enjoyable all the same. Thank you for reading, and please don't forget to review: it only takes a few moments and helps to improve later chapters, besides the fact that reviews really do mean the world to me.