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Chapter Text

Ukiyo [Japanese] 

Living in the moment, detached of the bother of life. 

 ─•~❉~•─

The sound of the chimes rang softly through the dark streets of Konoha. 

Around the streetlights and their white glow, small insects swirled like raindrops. Yet it was a night with a gentle breeze and not a cloud in the dark blue sky. 

Ino Yamanaka had finally decided to close her shop, after waiting for a customer to arrive and ask for white flowers. 

She had spent the day listening to stories about the person who would receive these flowers. She had spent the day hugging all those who had lost someone in the war a few months earlier. 

With a twinge of sadness, the new head of the Yamanaka clan held back her tears and nodded respectfully as old women gently took her hands to tell her about the kindness of her late father.

"What a drag..." she murmured with a wry smile. 

Her thoughts turned to her friends as she walked quietly through the crowds. Life had been good for some time now, a kind of fulfillment enveloping the atmosphere of mourning that had lasted for the first month. 

Children ran after each other, mothers chatted, casting tender glances at them. 

The men, meanwhile, had gained enthusiasm and a simple joie de vivre. Their red cheeks and off-key singing amused the blonde teenager.

Ino could never admit it out loud, but as she scanned the crowd, she hoped to find a familiar face. 

Perhaps the two cousins with white eyes, laughing and standing side by side. One of them was now walking alone.

Or maybe the funny shinobi in his green suit, who would have advised him to enjoy his youth, his exasperated comrade behind him. They spent their days with their mentor, afraid of losing someone else. 

The lazybones who trudged painfully through the streets was also a possibility. He spent his days in the Hokage's office, exhaling cigarette smoke during his rare breaks outside. 

Her other teammate, who was always where there was a good deal to eat. He helped traumatized shinobi with his big heart and newly acquired wisdom.  

The "war hero," as everyone in the village called him, usually sat at the ramen stand, even at 7 a.m. He was busy catching up and rehabilitating himself. 

Finally, there was his pink-haired friend and rival, with whom he squabbled every day. She helped Tsunade with medical care, thinking of all those she would have wanted to help, one person in particular...

For the first time, the Yamanaka felt oddly lonely. 

Ino had lost the person who welcomed her home with a kind smile. 

She had watched her mentor breathe his last breath, fighting back the urge to tremble. 

"Since when did I become so sensitive?" she sighed with a sad smile. 

Ino continued walking, while the noise of the crowd became nothing more than a murmur in the night. 

She stopped in front of a green gate. This building had welcomed her during her early childhood and trained her to become the kunoichi she was now. 

No one was around, the holidays were approaching, and the teenager wanted to rediscover the sweetness of childhood that had been taken from her too soon. 

A time when no one cried in her arms, a time when her mother didn't sob on her knees in front of a white grave. 

A time when she ran without looking back, without worrying about others.

In short, when she could still seize the day. 

So, seized by this carefree desire, Ino Yamanaka climbed over the Academy fence.

Chapter Text

─•~❉~•─

Kalopsia 

the delusion of things more beautiful than they really are

─•~❉~•─

Lee politely adjusted the blankets for his mentor.
The weather was getting colder, and it would have been a shame to fall ill on top of being confined to a hospital bed.

Loyal to his believes and stubbornness, the jonin always smiled and brushed away any concernes regarding his health, and he had fallen asleep after making sure both his students had eaten, showered and rested beforehand.

"Gai sensei..." he said softly.

Since his confrontation with Madara, Gai had been confined to a wheelchair and a long recovery imposed by Tsunade.

As an eternal optimist and role model for his students, Gaï complied with all of the Fifth Hokage's restrictions.
Sometimes Kakashi would come to see him, accompanied by Kurenaï or alone when Shikamaru was unable to help him with some of the issues he was facing as the Sixth Hokage.

There were days the jonin looked out the window when he thought his students had left the room.
It seemed innocuous, but Lee had noticed the way his eyes rested on a bird that had built its nest close to the window.
Lee had also noticed the way he counted with his eyes when he and Tenten entered the room.

"Lee, we should go home," Tenten said hesitantly, placing her hand on her friend's shoulder.

The young girl had started to let her hair grow, more out of neglect than choice. Brown strands framed her tired face, and it made her eyes go from a light brown to almost black. She looked older, maybe by 2 years.

"I don't want to leave him," he insisted.
"You heard what Tsunade said, he needs rest, and so do we."

Her voice cracked and the kunoichi turned away to quickly wipe away the tears that threatened to fall.

Tenten was trying to lead the team, taking over from her late comrade. Compared to him, she lacked depth and analytical skills.
This difference often reminded her of the void they had to learn to live with.

"Please" she added

Hospitals were a strange place, because Lee could've sworn he rarely saw her cry. He recalled her crying when she had lost against Temari, and then....

He nodded, and stood up.
"Let's go" The shinobi gave her thumbs up and his usual determined expression

The kunoichi let out a sigh of relief, and made sure that her sensei had everything he needed when he'd wake up.

"See you next time, Gai sensei," they said in unison.

It was late, and the cold air cleared their minds. The hospital, with it's now usual business, casted white bright lights. It was creepier and heavier in winter.
Outside the building, nurses and doctors were chatting and sitting down. Some of them were smoking, and the smokes looked like the spirits adults would warn children about.

As if they both silently agreed to run away from the sad atmosphere, the two teenagers quickly distanced from the hospital and soon regained the "normal" side of the village.

The happier voices made them feel less alone.

Konoha regained its tranquillity and a new vigour. This atmosphere had been established for a month now, and Lee appreciated it.
The children played freely, no longer threatened hopefully, unlike Lee and his friends at their age. No need to train as much as they did, break bones to prove themselves against fate.

"They will never know war," Tenten agreed with a sigh and a sly smile.

All those years on the same team had given her the ability to read him,apparently.

"Thanks to us!" he exclaimed with a confident smile.

They continued walking, watching the children play.
Soon, the two shinobis were surrounded by a crowd of people.

A lot of shinobis of the Alliance stayed for a little longer, after the war, to prevent an attack or a betrayal of any villages.

With their loud drunken voices, they sang about "raising a glass to freedom" and gave each other big slaps in rhythm.

In the new restaurants,  friends were reunited around large tables. Their cheeks were red from laughing and munching at the same time.

A kind of uneasiness settled in. Neither of them dared to speak.

Lee would have liked to spend the holidays with their friends, or just gather around a hot meal if possible. He rarely saw them, but he knew that fatigue and grief weighed heavily on them.

Tenten thought it was unfair, the way so many people had started living again, while the teenagers were living with a new burden : "The duty of the survivors" like the old people of the council said.
Naruto, ever loyal to his comrades, wanted each of them to be considered "heroes", or those who had contributed the most to the war.

"It would have been nice to see them again..." Tenten murmured, and Lee nodded.
"It's understandable, they're suffering."
"I know how they feel."

Lee did not dare to speak.

Since they had started walking, a space had remained empty between them. Out of habit, they had moved apart.
An eternal silence filled their discussions.

It had been two months, and the team members, sensei included, had not dared to address the elephant in the room.

Neji Hyuga had been recognised as one of the martyrs of this war. When Kakashi had announced the new to the teenagers, less than two weeks after the war, they had all grimaced.

Hinata, who had been reinstated as heir to their clan and praised by many for the way she had motivated the troops (well, especially Naruto), had said nothing, so Kakashi didn't add more to the matter.

Lee had this feeling that sometimes forced him to look up at the sky and wonder, "What now?".

The affairs of the Hyuga clan were none of his business, but he resented them.
He held them responsible for the death of his friend, and he resented the life and destiny that his friend had taken so seriously.

"Damn it..." Tenten muttered, holding back her tears.

They continued their walk.

The noise of the crowd was now absent, they were alone with themselves. She hated being alone, she needed to believe that nothing had truly changed.

After a long, painful silence, Lee stopped in front of a large gate. It had been a long time since the academy benches had called to him.
The "ardour" of youth was what he needed.

"What's wrong, Lee-"
"Tenten, I have an idea!" He stood up in front of his friend with new enthusiasm.

She sighed, cursing Neji for leaving her alone with such an idiot. A part of her wanted to dismiss his excitement, and remind him of how busy they were to play children.

Lee insisted, giving her what tried to be a encouraging smile, but his eyes had lost their usual sparks.
Maybe they needed to play children...

"This is for our youth" Lee said, with a tinge of regret escaping

The kunoichi knew her friend too well, and without another word, they climbed together over the gate. in the room.

Chapter Text

─•~❉~•─

Dysania 

finding it extremely hard to get out of bed in the morning

─•~❉~•─

"You should head home now."

Shikamaru couldn't bear to hear it anymore.
Looking at him with a sorry smile, Kakashi Hatake had his hands clasped on his desk.
After his election, he had expressly requested that Shikamaru be appointed as his right-hand man, as the council and those in high places had all recognised his strategic mind and great talent from a young age.

He had not objected, because such an honour could not be refused, especially after a war like that.
Now, his evenings were filled with paperwork and visits to neighbouring villages, to such an extent that he had started smoking again (much to his mother's dismay).

When he had time, he would go to the cemetery and clean the graves of his sensei and his father. Sometimes he would also sit silently next to Hinata, who made no comment about his tired appearance. Shikamaru would sometimes offer to buy her something since he knew it was only a matter of time before one of the "twelve" — as the elders of the council liked to call them — intervened.

Today, Shikamaru had spent his time approving requests for burials, advances for those who had lost a spouse during the war, and a new budget for the Konoha orphanage. Kakashi took the last measure very seriously and, although he would never admit it, he had always resented the Third Hokage for leaving orphans like Naruto and himself alone, without financial assistance or the possibility of having a guardian.

In addition to all this, hospital services needed to be improved, and Sakura Haruno had specifically requested a psychiatric wing for adults and children.

After the war, some shinobi had appreciated their enemy's goal; the idea of eternal genjutsu was apparently appealing, and there were more of them than expected. Thus, the Konoha police force also needed a budget for a special tracking unit to detect traces of White Zetsus or locate Madara Uchiha's supporters. Kiba Inuzuka and Shino Aburame vouched for the unit, and the Hyuga clan decided to finance and support the project.

In short, what a drag.

"Go home, Shikamaru. This is too much for you," Kakashi insisted.

With a sigh and a few words muttered under his breath, Shikamaru withdrew.

Once he was away from the Hokage's palace, the Nara reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver lighter. He had gotten into the habit of polishing it with the utmost care when he was bored and Shizune wasn't bothering him with paperwork.

Shikamaru lit a cigarette, the reddish tip brighter than ever. The smoke he exhaled brushed against his cheeks, the only source of warmth on this winter night.

He couldn't be bothered to go to the centre of the village, with all its people making noise until the early hours.

To tell the truth, crowds didn't appeal to him when he was alone. Euphoria wasn't that appealing either, alone.

Of course, they had celebrated their victory in a small, sombre "gathering," without any big speeches or long conversations.

To tell the truth, Shikamaru didn't see it as a victory.

No, it felt more like a relief to be alive, some reminder of their own luck to be able to hold and be held to something greater than a cause. But luck and relief were never meant to stand together in humans' hearts, because it then turned to pain and grief.

"I should go home," he said aloud, crushing his cigarette under his heel.

He quickly thought of his mother, who would yell at him when the strong smell of smoke lingered on her son's clothes; it reminded her of his father. Although she never told her son, it was easy to guess that the reason for her tears wasn’t just her husband, but also the little boy she lost during the war.

Shikamaru had avoided all contact for a few days.
His new role as head chief of the Nara clan was too much to bear, and he couldn't rely on assistance. Until he was ready to deal with the complaints, his mother endorsed the burden, quickly grieving her loss and holding her head high. It was a normal thing to do for a wife, apparently.

"One of those bullshit things these old people say..." the Nara mumbled, referencing the elders of his clan.

Shikamaru suddenly felt alone. It would happen a lot these days. Maybe he should check on the others and grab a meal someday...

No, his friends had a lot to do, surely. They shouldn't be focusing on his own weakness while they had so much to do...

"You know that's not it," a little voice whispered in his head.

Since his death, Shikaku Nara often came back to his son's memory.

His imposing stature and his straightforward, fair words had previously been much less prominent. Now, the new Nara clan heir no longer saw his father's back, but every day he turned a little more towards his son to repeat the words he had once said — a blur of nonsense he "entrusted" him.

"They say that everything we've ever heard is stored somewhere in our brains," Choji had once told him; spending time with the medic-ninja unit made him more serious.

Shikamaru lit a second cigarette, this one more to help him think.
What should he do?

He would have liked to have some help from a friend, just a break from everything, a shoulder to rely on.

There was Temari, who could always knock some sense into the Nara's head with ease...

"No, not her," he said aloud, a hint of fear in his voice.

The teenager crushed his second cigarette with his heel again.
His gaze turned to the dark sky. It was curious how little things as insignificant as dust accumulated when he really paid attention to it — just like his worries, in a way.

Shikamaru was used to shadows; he controlled them better than anyone else. But he would never be able to manipulate the ones that penetrated his lungs and gripped his heart.

"Let it out, boy." That’s what his father would have said.

His legs moved on their own, and instead of going home, he took the most familiar route. As he was about to light a third cigarette, his movement was stopped short by the large façade of the academy.

At this hour, it was closed, but he sensed that he was not the only one who had found refuge here. The only crowd he truly accepted was there, he knew it.

Chapter Text

─•~❉~•─

Kismat 

a person's destiny or fate

─•~❉~•─

Dead leaves floated and settled gently on the graves. The petals of the sunflowers she had left two days earlier were already falling. It was normal, after all — it wasn't really the season.

Why did he love these flowers so much? He had told her, but she couldn't remember...

There is nothing more curious in life than grief. She had often been told that she would go through several stages.
In reality, it was a long period of denial interspersed with different emotions. Anger was only temporary, sadness was constant, and acceptance was too distant to grasp and hold close to her aching heart.

Hinata Hyuga and Neji Hyuga. The two sides of the same coin that was their destiny. Or maybe, their fate.

Had the brotherly love she had for him been so great that he had not hesitated to throw himself into death?
Or was his idea of destiny ultimately the result of a long life lived in the shadow of the Soke?

In the end, Neji fulfilled his role as a member of the Bunke: protecting noble blood and their clan at the terrible and insignificant cost that was his life as her "servant."

For a boy filled with dreams, it was unfair. It was unfair for everyone who had perished before him, and Hinata wished she could have borne the Caged Bird Seal too, if her mind could be more at ease.

Hinata plunged her hands into the bucket of water she had filled at the cemetery entrance. She cleaned the grave and lit incense for her cousin.

The young Hyuga began to recount her day, the progress made in the village over the last two months, and Gai Sensei's recovery. According to Kakashi, the man could lose his ability to walk.

She laughed a little as she talked about Naruto and his determination to reach the rank of jonin, then continued by reassuring Neji about Lee and Tenten; she saw both of them sometimes, and they looked tired but well in general.

Then, she talked about Kurenai and little Mirai. The two of them had the same fascinating red eyes, but according to Konohamaru, the infant looked like a monkey — which was apparently a family trait. Kiba and Shino were both jealous of Shikamaru because he was the little girl's godfather instead of them, "Kurenai's precious first students!"

"Is Ino feeling the same way?" she had thought with a chuckle.

It was her new routine to talk at length, observe little things in everyday life, and recount them accurately to the white grave. Until she had done that, she would not move.

According to Ino and Sakura, it was both a good habit and a bad whirlwind into which she deliberately threw herself.
Neji would continue to live as long as he was not forgotten, but perhaps by talking to him, he would really come back...

Her father was gentler, taking precautions when he spoke to her. He had even kept Neji's room as he had left it, something he had not done when his wife died. Furthermore, Hiashi apologized for the beliefs of any Soke member who had used the Caged Bird Seal as torture for disobedience. His words were now full of hope, acceptance, and peace.
"It took Neji's death for that to happen," the young girl told herself. 

It happened for her to wonder what could have been. If she hadn't been so weak, obsessed with her desire to protect Naruto, if she had been more vigilant...

 
She now responded in a low voice when Kiba and Shino spoke to her. Both of them were always protective of her, and it was obvious that they were kind of worried; Hinata had never been the most expressive in her enthusiasm, held back by her shyness, but she had still been more present than that. They would invite her to eat when they had time after working with the new police units.

"I shouldn't lament too long, right? The others are already suffering enough, and I'm here..." she muttered, looking at her hands.

Why was she so weak, anyway? Hanabi was only 12 years old, yet compared to her older sister, she had mastered the Gentle Fist and techniques that her father had forbidden his eldest daughter to learn.
Hinata had always wanted to see a simple spark of happiness in his white eyes — she who hoped to see a simple lift of his lips, a wrinkle, or just a nod of his head...

As if entangled in the young girl's thoughts, a sunflower fell into her hand. There wasn't the slightest breeze, yet...

Hinata felt tears rushing, but that would have been crossing a line she had set for herself — to let them spill.

It didn't take an idiot to know that others had taken her place to cry or talk to her "big brother." Indeed, beneath her knees, the grass was thinner, the grave was always clean, and different flowers appeared each day.

Hinata clutched her bag, which contained a small brown notebook. Hiashi had dared to enter his nephew's room a week ago when he thought his daughter was asleep.

He had looked around the room carefully, without making a sound or crying. Pulling open one of the drawers in the deceased's bedside table, he had found this notebook, and when he turned around, his daughter was looking at him with shame and betrayal. Would Hiashi ever learn from his mistakes?

Hinata still refused to read the notebook, but keeping it close to her brought her comfort and filled a small corner of her heart. In a way, it helped her not go astray.

A bird fluttered in the branches of a nearby tree. It had been watching the girl for some time, if not longer. It did not chirp, but its gaze pierced the teenager's neck, yet strangely, this did not bother her. Suddenly, it began to fly high, circling the cemetery a little, then heading towards a dimly lit part of the village before returning. It was curious, and it took Hinata a second to realize where it was going.

"You're free, you know? You don't need to keep worrying about me, big brother." She traced the letters gently, as if to appease the dead buried beneath.

Hinata Hyuga and Neji Hyuga. Two sides of the same coin that is their destiny. One was certain of his life in death, and the other doubted her own survival through life.
One ran to escape her fear of being abandoned once more, and the other was behind, pushing her not to look back.

Hinata turned and stood up with difficulty; she had been sitting for too long.

"I'll come back tomorrow. In the meantime, keep watching over us, big brother Neji."

Acceptance would come. As long as there was someone to make sure of it, that was a certainty.