SN

Sasuke’s first thought is, “What on earth is Neji doing here in the middle of the night?”

Actually, Sasuke’s first thought is, “I’m wearing my pajamas. In front of freaking Neji Hyuga. Fuck.” And his second thought is, “Thank God I put on sweatpants over my boxers.” And his third thought is, “What the hell did Itachi mean by ‘his hair looks better not in a bun’? It looks pretty good up in a ponytail like that.” But by the time his fourth thought, about why, exactly, it is that Neji is on this random roof, rolls around, Neji has already spoken first.

“This is the back quarter of the Hyuga compound.” Neji’s voice sounds different in the dark -- more flat, but more open somehow. Sasuke kind of gets hung up on the strangely melodious tone of his voice, so he almost misses the question that follows Neji’s statement -- “Why are you awake at this time of night?”

“Uh.” Sasuke freezes. “I didn’t know this was your house. Sorry -- I’ll leave --”

“Wait.” Sasuke looks down, and there is another wave of déjà vu, because Neji is grasping his sleeve. For a moment, Sasuke is back in the hall, words on his tongue that he needs to say, even if he doesn’t quite know what they are. Then Neji pulls away, shuffling his feet awkwardly and oh -- he’s wearing slippers. Sasuke had no idea that anyone who was not a grandma even wore slippers.

“I-it’s okay,” Neji says gruffly. “There’s plenty of room up here. I was just…” He makes a vague gesture with his hands. “Sitting.”

“Oh.” Sasuke knows his eyes must still be adjusting to the dark, because from where he’s standing, it almost looks like Neji is blushing. “Well… I could join you. If your uncle wouldn’t kill me or anything for trespassing.”

Sasuke is kidding, but at the mention of his uncle, Neji tenses. “Right,” he says stiffly. “I’m sure it will be fine with him.” Turning, he leads Sasuke to the edge of the roof, where Sasuke is delighted to find a blanket spread out.

“Wow,” he says, plopping down. “You must come out here a lot. You seem prepared.”

Neji is still standing. “I guess so.” He scratches his neck. “I feel like I should offer you something -- this is my house --”

Sasuke bites his lip to keep from laughing. Neji is suddenly so self-conscious -- a total opposite from the cool and composed boy in the clearing this afternoon. “I’m fine. Your company’s enough.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Sasuke wants to smack himself. I really need to think before I speak. Neji already thinks I’m a jerk -- now he’ll think I’m a creep, too.

But Neji only gives him a small smile before kneeling next to him on the blanket. The two of them sit in silence for a moment, gazing out over the streets, before Neji speaks again.

“Why are you awake? Insomnia?”

Sasuke can feel the boy’s gaze, but he doesn’t turn to face him. “Not exactly,” he admits. “I just… couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah. Me neither.” Neji looks off into the distance, and Sasuke finds his eyes drawn to the boy’s face. His skin is pale, though not as pale as his eyes -- they remind Sasuke of the Milky Way, and suddenly, he is caught up in memories of stargazing on the lawn with Itachi, Itachi pointing out the Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt, and the two of them laughing, those warm summer nights when there was just the two of them and they were invincible and Sasuke’s eyes are stinging and he is grateful for the dark, to hide the way he suddenly needs to bury his face in his arm and blink hard and fast to stop the tears from coming.

“Sasuke?” Neji’s hand is on his arm, then, and if Sasuke wasn’t suddenly choking on the lump in his throat he might have been hyperaware of the touch of the boy’s skin against his, of the heat of Neji’s fingers against his bicep. But all Sasuke wants is for this stupid, raw sadness rising in his throat to settle down to the usual dull ache in his stomach.

“Sasuke, breathe.” Neji’s hands are on his shirt, and he’s rubbing soothing circles into Sasuke’s back. Sasuke didn’t even realize he wasn’t breathing until Neji tells him to, but suddenly his lungs are screaming for oxygen and he’s drawing in a wet, ragged gasp of night air.

“It’s okay.” Neji’s voice is quieter than Sasuke thought it would be, softer and kinder, and then every emotion that has been building in his chest since he doesn’t even know how long is bursting out of him, like those two words gave Sasuke permission to break the dam holding them back.

Sasuke isn’t sure how long he cries for, isn’t sure of anything besides the tidal wave sweeping through him and the warmth of Neji’s hands against his back like a life preserver bobbing on the stormy sea of his emotions. First Neji, now me, he thinks grimly, now it’s my turn to have a breakdown, and even though this is nothing like Neji’s quiet sobs on that day, Sasuke suddenly feels the urge to laugh at the similarity. A jagged, painful sound claws its way out of his throat, and Sasuke can feel the heaving of his chest slow, can feel the churning sorrow in his stomach receding as the storm of emotions passes.

His heartbeat slowly returns to normal, and Sasuke wipes his runny nose on his sleeve, past caring what Neji thinks. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”

Neji’s hands are still rubbing his back. “You were sad. It’s acceptable,” he says, so sternly that it takes a moment for Sasuke to recognize his own words. “Don’t apologize for your emotions. You were right, you know.”

Sasuke blinks. “About what?”

“About… what you said this afternoon.” Neji leans forward a little, his pale eyes serious and intent on Sasuke’s face. “About not caring what my uncle thinks. You’re right. I’m not my uncle.” He sighs. A lock of hair slips free of his ponytail and dangles in his face, and Sasuke is suddenly filled with the irrational urge to reach forward and tuck it behind Neji’s ear.

“No, I think you were right.” Sasuke’s voice is raspy, and it startles the both of them. “I don’t know you. I shouldn’t tell you what to do.”

Neji looks at him for a long moment, and Sasuke realizes that his hand has not moved away from his back. But the voice in Sasuke’s head protesting that this is far too long to be making eye contact with someone, far too long to be touching a boy who is practically a stranger, is drowned out by the sound of their breathing, the only sound in the whole silent city.

“My brother.” Sasuke’s words are so soft, he can barely hear them. “My brother always told me -- I’m not my father. No one should ever be defined by their family.”

Neji is quiet for a moment. “I thought you said you were an only child.”

Sasuke’s nails dig into his palm. He looks away, blinking hard, even though he feels like he’s cried his tear ducts dry. “I am, now.”

There is a long silence. Neji draws away from him -- to give him his space, Sasuke thinks. After what must be a solid two minutes, he breaks the silence.

“My father and my uncle were twins,” Neji says, and Sasuke is shocked by the hot anger spilling over the boy’s words. “My uncle got involved with the wrong people. They,” he draws in a shaky breath, “killed my father, thinking he was him.” Neji shuts his eyes and a tear, silver in the darkness, rolls down his cheek. “It isn’t fair,” he whispers. “Nothing is fucking fair in this world.”

Sasuke has no idea what he’s doing, no idea what he wants to be doing, but it’s as though his hand is moving of its own accord, reaching out and brushing the tear off Neji’s cheek. Neji’s eyes fly open, and his milky eyes catch Sasuke’s starry black ones, and Sasuke can hear the boy catch his breath in the silence between them, and suddenly he is lurching backward, falling hard on his elbows and panting, pushing himself to his feet. “I have to go,” he says hurriedly, because this is too much, everything is too much and too fast and maybe, just maybe, for half a second he might have wondered what it would be like to --

Neji is staring up at him with those Milky Way eyes and Sasuke feels a strange kind of tug in his chest that makes him pause. “It’s not you,” he says, but his words feel empty and hollow because of course it’s Neji, of course it’s this strange and wonderful boy before him, and maybe that’s what makes him say quietly, before he loses his nerve, “Could I maybe come back tomorrow night?”