Admiration and ambition
When Neiji was six years old he made a very important, life changing decision. He had just seen Cousin Xanxus make one of the snottier main branch cousins cry just by glaring at him, and in that moment Neiji knew exactly what he wanted to be when he grew up.
One day, when he was older, Neiji was going to be just like Cousin Xanxus.
The first time he’d said it out loud in public it had been at one of the formal dinners the whole clan was expected to attend, and the Elders’ response had been everything he could have hoped for. Great Uncle Kaze had gone very pale, and Great Aunt Eiko had gone slightly green, and Great Uncle Kenta had actually fainted. It had been beautiful.
Cousin Xanxus had just sat there and looked very smug, in a threatening sort of way. Sort of like one of the giant tigers in the forest of death after they had caught an attempted infiltrator and torn off all their limbs but not quite finished them off yet. Neiji had spent several hours practicing that exact expression in the mirror afterwards. He didn’t think he quite had it right yet, possibly his cheeks were too chubby, Cousin Hinata said he’d grow out of that though, so he wasn’t too worried, Hinata wouldn’t lie to him, he’d be properly intimidating one day, once he had his growth spurt and didn’t look so irritatingly adorable.
The funny thing was, if things had been different he probably would have hated Hinata. Hated her for everything she was supposed to be, and everything she wasn’t. She was soft and gentle and helpless, weak, in all the ways his family told him mattered. And yet she was the one fated to hold the power of life and death over Neiji, over all of the branch clan. He was expected to die for her when she couldn’t even fight for herself, let alone for Neiji. It wasn’t fair, and if Cousin Xanxus hadn’t been there as living proof that tradition was just an illusion spun by old men to maintain their own power, well, Neiji could easy imagine turning on Hinata in his rage at the unfairness of it.
But if Cousin Xanxus had taught him anything, it was that fate was what you made of it, that what people expected only mattered as far as you let it, and that real power didn’t lie in blood. Clan tradition alone wouldn’t hold him if he didn’t allow it to, and Hinata would never be able to enforce it even if she was so inclined, which she wasn’t.
Hinata’s position as future Clan head was therefore irrelevant. Once he had that settled in his mind, it was hard to resent her, especially when she was the only one willing to listen when he started talking about how amazing Cousin Xanxus was. When she was the only person he could compare information gathering techniques with without getting worried looks. When she was the only person who got it, when he said Cousin Xanxus was his role model. And maybe she wasn’t strong the way their family said was important, but he’d already decided they were wrong about pretty much everything else, so it wasn’t much of a stretch to decide they were wrong about Hinata too.
Truth be told, Hinata might just be his best friend in the world. Certainly, she was the only person who didn’t try to actively discourage him from following Cousin Xanxus around in pursuit of his dreams. Everyone else Neiji knew kept trying to stop him. Uncle Hiashi had even gone so far as to pull him in for an awkward conversation about stalking, and why it was not socially acceptable behaviour. Neiji didn’t see what that had to do with him. After all, it wasn’t like Cousin Xanxus had asked him to stop. He might have admitted the shrine he had hidden out in the woods was possibly a little excessive, but then Hinata had shown him her shrine to Cousin Xanxus’ friend Sarutobi Dino and he’d decided it was fine. After all, no-one called Hinata a stalker.
Cousin Xanxus didn’t mind anyway. Didn’t tell him to fuck off unless he was going on a mission, or doing some especially dangerous training, let him watch while he sparred with his teammates and friends, he honestly seemed to think it was cute. And sometimes, just sometimes, when Neiji was learning a particularly difficult move he’d turn around to find Cousin Xanxus watching briefly, before disappearing again with a fragment of roughly given advice, or a nod of approval that made Neiji buzz with excitement for hours knowing just how rare it was for Cousin Xanxus to approve of anything.
One time, he and Hinata had spent a fairly unprofitable few hours trying to get his hair to spike up like Cousin Xanxus’. Unfortunately Neiji’s classic Hyuuga hair had stayed stubbornly dead straight and he’d had to settle for letting Hinata braid feathers into it and tie it back. The effect had actually been pretty good, even if it hadn’t quite been what he was going for.
They’d had rather more success dying Hinata’s hair blonde, although the bathroom towels would never be the same. She hadn’t even bothered trying to explain when she turned up to family dinner like that, much to the shocked horror of just about everyone. Neiji had actually thought Uncle Hiashi might have a heart attack, but Cousin Xanxus had burst out laughing at their faces, and Hinata had smiled when she looked in the mirror for the first time in years, and Neiji couldn’t care less about what the rest of them thought. Hinata’s hair stayed blonde. It actually kind of suited her.
The rest of the clan had got used to it eventually, although not gracefully. He couldn’t wait to see how they reacted when she was old enough to get tattoos.