Epliogue
Everything was okay. Sai knew that everything was okay. Everyone had actually managed to survive and, for the first time since he came into the pack, his mates seemed to enjoy a sense of security and solace that pervaded everything. Sakura was fully healed within a week and back to training with a vengeance, pushing her body the way she hadn't been able to while pregnant and enjoying every winded lap and sore muscle more than Sai thought anyone really should. Sasuke was so hopelessly charmed by their baby, Mikoto, that he was content to spend hours simply holding her tucked into his kimono on misty mornings, warm against the skin of his chest, without anything else to do than drink a pot of white tea. Sai sat with him many mornings, often with his head pillowed against the other man's thigh, and he knew that there was nothing amiss for once, nothing to worry about. Everything was okay. The problem, which had become apparent to him, as well as to everyone else, was that he, himselfwas not okay. He was far from anything like the happy contentment which seemed to fill every other space, far from recovered or healed, and as the weeks crawled on, the ink nin began to wonder if he ever really would be.
Naruto said that he shouldn't worry, and that no one minded when he cried so much, and that sometimes things like grief and anger took longer to heal than flesh injuries, which really was fine after all. Sakura said that a lifetime of hurt just wasn't going to go away anytime soon and that Sai shouldn't be impatient with himself, that he could take as much time as he needed, no one was going to go anywhere. Sai knew they were right and the words did help, a little, but he was tired of feeling so heavy, so tired and so empty all the time. The artist ate, because everyone else was eating and because if he refused then that landed him in the same camp with Neji, which was unappealing enough for decent motivation, but the food was tasteless. He bit and chewed and swallowed and he could have been eating anything, he couldn't even really tell. He drank, but only because Sakura fussed if his cup stayed full and he pretended to sleep because otherwise Naruto would worry, but everything just felt wrong.
Even sex felt like nothing more than a reflex, like coughing or vomiting, only a few sparks of warmth penetrating the chilly fog in his mind. Moving was hard and training even harder and sometimes Sai wondered if he would just sit too still one day and turn to stone, if doing so would be a bad thing. Naruto told him to pretend, to try until the actions felt natural again, that sooner or later his mind would be released from the awful weight of so many feelings and so many memories. Sai listened to him and he believed him too, Naruto was not the kind of person who lied, but the raging pain of feeling so much and remembering things his body couldn't understand was getting harder by the day.
Sasuke never complained about the fact that Sai got his lap all wet with tears, and Naruto held him, kissed him, and loved him as though nothing about his new appearance was anything except sublime, stroking the fur of his tail as if the appendage had always been there. No one treated him differently or ignored him, but Sai knew that they wondered too, wondered if he would ever be alright. When he looked in the mirror, the artist barely recognized his own face, the tracks of blue on his skin an ever-present representation of endless mourning, his eyes alight with azure made even brighter by the redness and endless weeping. He tried to paint, but the only thing the ink seemed inclined to do was run in circles, smear and clot like blood or flow into the likeness of his mother's human face. He sighed. Sakura said that the mind followed the body and that he would feel better with more exercise, but Sai wasn't sure. His body was unhurt and that made Sai want to argue, but then he felt shivery and sick about making them worry, especially because there was someone who was legitimately hurt and they were worried enough already.
Neji wasn't healing, despite the fact that Tsunade said he should, said that the brain really could heal with the right therapy and that someone young and strong like the Hyuuga would be able to recover completely with enough stimulation. Sai thought the Hokage was probably right, especially because Neji's eyesight returned after a few days of rest, but his body stubbornly refused to move. Neji dragged himself up every day to do physical therapy, working until he collapsed with exhaustion, but the exercise didn't seem to work. His right hand stayed limp and crumpled and his right leg was still too weak for him to walk with. Even worse, Neji's appetite slowly disappeared and getting him to eat even a few mouthfuls of food was a challenge. Always slender, the Hyuuga was getting frighteningly thin and Naruto spent almost every free moment either pushing him to eat or pressing scared little kisses against his ruined hand. Sai watched him sometimes, watched Naruto make love to Neji and tell him with the thrall to heal, please heal, but even the all-powerful compulsion wasn't enough to fix him. The worst part was listening to Neji scream when Naruto enthralled him, listening to him wail like someone was pulling his wings off, voice raw with disuse and filled with pain. Sasuke always covered Mikoto's ears when Naruto did that to Neji, and Sakura always conveniently left for a run, but Sai listened, listened to the pain and thought he understood what Kakashi meant when the sensei said some things couldn't be forced.
Something was keeping Neji from healing, something more than just a brain injury, because the brain really could heal and Neji was clearly trying. Sai knew everyone was getting desperate for answers as much as for a solution, but Tsunade could only shrug and say that even without the thrall, the Hyuuga should be improving. Sai felt bad that neither of them was getting better and the more he thought about his state of mind and the state of Neji's body, the more the nagging frustration grew. Sai wasn't injured. He wasn't ill. He wasn't pale with exhaustion like Naruto or alight with repressed tension like Sakura and there was no excuse for wandering around the house like a misplaced shadow, while the rest of the family tried to move forward. Sai was just...broken somehow, maybe he always had been...maybe he and Neji weren't so different after all.
Sai thought about the Hyuuga, his mind spinning in circles and one day, during one of the rare moments when he got to hold Mikoto by himself, the hanyou came to a decision. The little baby was snug in his arms, holding his tail in one of her chubby fists tentatively, as if getting a good grip on it took a lot of work, eyes crossed with concentration. She was cute and warm and unafraid of him, even though he had once tried to kill her, and Sai couldn't even stop crying long enough to love her. He sighed. The tears came at odd moments.
"I'm tired of this." He told the wriggling creature, watching as she stuffed the end of his tail into her mouth and promptly gagged on it.
He flicked the furry appendage out of her mouth, waiting for angry wailing and surprised when the baby coughed a bit and reached for it again. Sakura did say some people never learn. The baby's big, blue eyes fixed onto his face and stared, just the way Naruto did sometimes, and the artist felt like she was looking at his soul instead of just his eyes. The feeling built, condensed in his chest like cold lead, and his vision blurred with a fresh surge of tears. Sai held her tighter, snuggling her up closer in his kimono just in case she was cold, picking through a little tangle in her curls with one narrow, blue claw. She would be hungry soon he knew, she usually was, but for now the child seemed content to merely watch him weep and try to eat Sai's tail. He really shouldn't be sobbing, wracked with an emotion that might be frustration, but was probably closer to anguish, not now when he had a moment with the baby. He didn't want it, but the reaction wouldn't stay buried.
"I'm still at war," The artist whispered, "I'm fighting myself, maybe."
Mikoto mewled and yawned, falling asleep between one breath and another as if his logic pleased her well enough and anything else was superfluous, not worth her attention. Sai dried his cheeks against his sleeve for the thousandth time and wiped his tears from Mikoto's face as well so that Sasuke wouldn't get that look on his face when he came to feed her after his sparring session. Sasuke never said anything, but there were moments when the other subordinate looked at him and his expression was the same as someone who'd accidentally swallowed broken glass. Sai tried not to weep in front of him directly if he could help it, but of course, Sasuke knew anyway.
"Enough of this." Sai told the sleeping baby quietly, "I've had enough."
OoOoOoO
Neji slept lightly, but he slept often, exhausted from the grueling exercise of his therapy and more than willing to escape into sleep any time he could. In sleep, he was better, whole, complete and able to walk through the gardens with Sasuke or train with Sakura or be the one to pick Sai up from the porch when the artist forgot to move and got too cold. In sleep, he was the man Naruto had fallen in love with, the one the jinchuuriki said he idolized. Maybe that person was dead, but no matter how many times the blond told him he was perfect, Neji could never quite believe the words. The dissonance of his inner landscape with reality rankled more every day and Neji felt trapped, as trapped as any skulking vermin, his paw chained and useless. The Hyuuga smiled bitterly. Maybe the best thing to do was gnaw the damn thing off. He deserved to suffer. He had no right to want anything more. To live was enough, to live was the only thing he'd been able to promise anyway, and even that was more difficult by the day so he couldn't just stop fighting.
The needs of his body just seemed to fall away and Neji wasn't really hungry or cold anymore, despite what everyone wanted, despite the fact that Naruto always looked like he was chewing on razor blades any time he declined food. Naruto just couldn't accept his disability, mostly because he blamed himself for it, Neji thought, but the real agony came from the fact that he couldn't really accept his own condition either. He deserved this, this waking hell, but it was too hard to lie down and die when everyone he loved was only a breath and a few footsteps away, his to touch or laugh with, his to live with if only he could just move! When he was with Naruto, rocking in the throes of passion, the key to his recovery felt so close, almost there, his hand very nearly his own if he could only just reach beyond the invisible barrier. He could feel the barrier in the thrall too, feel the sparking pain as his body tried, tried to cleave to the compulsion in his alpha's voice, tried to heal. Something was in the way and maybe that was merely karma. Maybe everything was as it should be.
Neji closed his eyes, grinding his teeth in frustration, turning against the heavy silk of his pillow to watch the snow fall outside, the flakes occasionally drifting through the open sliding doors. Spring was coming and the snowflakes were like gorged bumblebees: fat, heavy with moisture, very nearly sleet and certainly too wet to accumulate more than a few inches. The grass would be sprouting soon and flowers too. Despite the noticeably warmer days, the snowflakes just kept stubbornly falling from the dark, heavy clouds only to melt in the air as chilly mist. Winter was over, but the snow didn't seem to realize that it's time had passed. He shuddered and caught the sound of footsteps in the hall.
His eyes were recovered and his vision sound, but Neji relied more and more on the Byukugan since the technique no longer taxed him and he knew immediately that the person approaching was male, but not Naruto or Sasuke. His eyes widened. Sai only approached his rooms when the hanyou came to spy on Naruto fucking him, watching him moan with pleasure and then scream with pain for reasons that the artist never shared with anyone. Groaning, Neji levered himself up into a sitting position on his futon and tried to pull his hair back with one hand, which never really worked. He'd managed something like an ugly imitation of a braid by the time Sai walked through the door.
"Hi." Neji muttered, feeling nervous.
"Hi," Sai replied, breath hitching with another bout of tears.
The artist folded himself into a seated position at the edge of the bed, long, silky tail lashing with some unspoken nervousness at his side. Neji pressed his lips together, awkwardly pouring another cup of tea to accompany the one already sitting cold at his side, offering the beverage to Sai in what he hoped was a gesture of welcome. He and the artist had never quite managed to get along, but they loved the same people so being nice was well worth a try. The artist took the proffered cup and his hand only shook a little. For a moment they each took a sip and watched the snow fall. Sai cried silently, dabbing his face with his sleeves.
"It's still snowing." Neji said by way of conversation.
"Do you ever think that maybe you don't heal because you don't want to?" The artist asked, pinning him with his eyes. Neji blinked.
"Are you always so random?" He asked with a dry chuckle.
"It's not random. That's what I came to talk about. Does your body want to fight because you don't really want to heal?" Sai asked again, biting his lip.
"Um, I'm pretty sure I do want to." Neji replied after a moment, trying not to sound testy.
"I do too, but I don't. I think that, inside, something is fighting something else." Sai murmured, tracing the edge of his tea-cup with a single, blue claw.
Neji swallowed. He wasn't entirely sure what prompted the conversation, or even what exactly Sai was trying to convey, but he couldn't deny the fact that yes, yes, he knew exactly what the war within felt like. He felt the struggle every time his hand failed to obey his mind, every time Naruto kissed him as he entered Neji's body in a vain attempt warm the ice in his belly and every time the jinchuuriki told his foolish, foolish body to heal. Indeed, something was fighting something else inside him too.
"I do feel that way. The way you described. I'm at war inside." Neji acceded, the words coming soft and with too much effort, but honesty usually felt that way.
"Aren't you tired of it?" Sai whispered, eyes red with weeping, leaning closer.
"Yes," Neji confessed softly, closing his eyes, "I'm exhausted. I'm losing."
Even with his eyes closed, Neji could feel the artist lean closer, feel the weight of the other man's hand against his thigh as Sai joined him on the bed. Taking a breath, Neji set his teacup down and heard the soft clink of porcelain against wood as the hanyou did the same. Sai smelled like ink and paper, like certain rooms of the library or his Uncle's document cabinet, but the musty odor was one Neji found that he liked and the warmth of his breath felt good against his cheek.. Boldly, the Hyuuga nuzzled his nose against Sai's hair as the hanyou moved closer still, sitting against his body in an unspoken gesture of comradery.
"Have you had enough?" Sai asked, lips close enough to his own that Neji could almost feel the words.
"Yes." He replied and it was almost a sob.
Sai kissed him then and Neji really should have expected him to, but he still pulled back too fast and with a startled yelp, eyes flying open, licking his lips nervously. Sai never flinched. Neji shook his head. One moment the Hyuuga was drifting away, shutting the world out, and the next he was gazing into the slate black of Sai's pupils with the ring of blue in the artist's irises pulling his attention like the edge of a whirlpool. Sai's eyes were strange, pretty, but strange, and much too still, like Naruto's. He swallowed again, mouth dry.
"I have to forgive. I have to forgive my mother for making me and Danzo for hurting me and myself for loving them anyway." Sai said and kissed him again.
Neji met his mouth this time, lips quivering against the exotic softness, leaning into the touch despite his reservations. He shivered, opened his mouth obediently at the unspoken demand in the hanyou's hands and lips and body as Sai nibbled at his jaw. Sai's fingers were cool against his cheek, cupping his face tenderly. The words seemed to rattle inside his mind, making entirely too much sense, uncomfortable, but not enough to flee from. They moved against each other, Neji's mouth tingling from the gentle, almost succulent way Sai caressed him. The artist's teeth were sharp and small, clinking against his own, the barest hint of danger against his tongue.
"How can you?" Nreji groaned into Sai's mouth, "How can you ever forgive?"
"I must. I think, maybe, that I'll never get better until I let the weight go. I've had enough of the pain, so I have to forgive them…and myself too…for making my mother die." Sai whispered.
"I don't deserve forgiveness," Neji whimpered, tears gathering in his eyes.
"It doesn't matter." Sai replied, capturing his tongue.
They kissed, the warm slickness of Sai's mouth invading his own, coaxing, challenging too, demanding surrender. Neji moaned and brought his good hand up to hold the ink nin's tear-wet face, letting Sai take his weight, trusting that the hanyou would keep him from falling and even something so small felt like blessed relief. Moving just a bit, Sai straddled his lap in a single step, pinning Neji securely beneath his weight and undulating erotically against his hips. His breath caught at the feeling of the firm ridge of Sai's erection beneath the silk. The artist's hands were around his shoulders, dipping into his kimono, pulling the heavy cloth away.
"I don't understand." Neji said, as Sai laid him back, stretching out against his chest.
"What you deserve doesn't matter. The only thing that makes any difference is if you've had enough." Sai said, "If you're ready to give it up."
"Kami, I am…" Neji whispered desperately, winding his left hand into Sai's hair to pull him closer.
They moved with an unspoken urgency, pulling the clothing away almost frantically, holding one another close and quivering. The motion of it was so easy; easier than Neji had ever imagined, almost magnetically simple to find Sai's naked skin and just touch. He was tired of thinking, of feeling, of suffering and the artist was too. They writhed, thrusting, bucking, hips pressed together through the silk of their kimonos gathered in mussed folds around their jerking hips. Neji felt the sudden chill of the air against his body and then he was flush against the burning satin of Sai's penis, the sensation strange, different from the others. He gasped, rubbing, and the friction of their skin together was dry, chaste even, like a greeting kiss. Neji moaned, belly tightening as the first hint of warm moisture dripped slick between them. Kami, it felt so good.
Sai wound a hand into his hair, pulling his head back as they began to grind and Neji allowed it, allowed him to move them both. The ink nin wrapped a ready palm around their straining erections, his grip firm, but not too tight. Neji could feel his legs opening of their own accord to allow Sai a better angle and the artist adjusted to crouch between his thighs, dragging slickened fingers against his chest with a moan. The little horns on Sai's head brushed roughly against his brow, but Neji only pulled him down into a deeper kiss. They moved, finding a rhythm at last, and, for the first time since he was injured, Neji wasn't focused on the images of death in his own mind or the commanding pull of Naruto's hands against his body. Sai moved with him, their weight pulling together and the lovemaking was, for once, an end instead of a means.
"Peace in your body," Sai whispered against his throat, "Peace in my mind. Then we can be healed."
Neji moaned and let go, let the guilt fall away and the pain with it, let himself simply feel. When the first tentative touch against his opening came, a warm pressure barely slick enough to be pleasurable, the silver-eyed genius could only sigh and press back against Sai's inexperienced hand. He was willing. Willing to try.
"Peace…" He echoed, "Peace in my body."
"Peace." Sai agreed, kissing the tears off of his cheeks.
The ink nin paused, dipping his fingers into the jar of massage oil Sakura had left a few days ago and pressed in, not hesitating, letting Neji move against him as his own pace. The penetration was deep and more sudden than he was used to and Sai's single finger felt so big inside of him. There was pleasure and also the aching stretch of intimate muscles pushing apart, making room, making way and then another finger too. Neji groaned, panting, feeling Sai's knuckles press tight against him as he thrust in. The artist opened the narrow passage, fingers slick against Neji's trembling flesh, filling him, finding his prostate and massaging mercilessly. Light danced before his eyes and there was fire in his nerves, the urge to move, to move. Neji bit his lip, crying out against his own teeth, hands fisting in the bedding. He was full, hard, belly shaking with the profound, erotic heaviness of Sai in his body. Neji rocked back, rolling to give the artist more room, taking him further in as he sobbed shamelessly against the pillows and the silken waves of his own chilly hair. The sex felt like falling, like surrender, release like an armistice flowing through his body. He was ready. He'd had enough.
OoOoOoO
Naruto finished sparring with Sasuke, the burn in his muscles barely enough to dull the gnawing worry, but physical exhaustion would just have to do until he found a way to wear his mind out too. He was always worried these days, about Neji and about Sai, so much so that the anxiety almost felt commonplace. He showered quickly, hoping to go play with Mikoto before the baby fell asleep for the night, only spending a few extra moments to kiss Sasuke under the hot spray. He was walking back toward the bedroom, bare feet slowly getting uncomfortably cold against the chilly wood of the floor when he felt it, the shift, the flood of warmth and…and release. The jinchuuriki stopped midstride, gasping as the surge of relief rocked him through the thrall. Neji, Neji and Sai, they were…
He changed direction, moving toward the Hyuuga's quarters as if drawn by a magnet, heart pounding, the fluttering heat almost ticklish in his belly. When he opened the sliding door to Neji's room, Naruto had no idea what he would find, but the scene inside wasn't anything he could have foreseen. The jinchuuriki's eyes widened and for a moment all he could do was stare as his legs buckled, body sinking slowly to rest on his knees. Even after watching his daughter's eyes fill with delight and gazing upon Sakura's generous curves draped in sheer netting, even after watching Sasuke's pale face smile guilelessly in the moonlight, Naruto knew he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready for that kind of beauty and all he could do was lean against the door frame and stare, open-mouthed, like an idiot.
Neji was on his knees, feet flexing, holding his own weight easily as Sai thrust into him, a hungry smile on the artist's moist lips. Naruto could see the change in the way they moved, in the elegant grace of their hips and the quivering tension in their shapely thighs. The warm almond-cream skin of Neji's arms, both his arms, was firm as the Hyuuga moved, reaching back, his fingers spread against the paper-pale flesh of Sai's thrusting hips. Sai's hand was tight in the other man's hair, his elegant tail wrapped firmly around Neji's throat like a black velvet collar, both dominant and affectionate too.
Sai wasn't weeping and Naruto didn't feel the gnashing pain radiating off him anymore either. If anything, there was a lightness within the connection, a profound soothing. Neji moaned, the sound rough and a little broken at the end, belly rippling, moving his previously paralyzed right hand to Sai's wrist. The Hyuuga flexed his fingers, gripping Sai's hand where it was wrapped around his shaft, encouraging the artist to stroke. With a cry, Sai pressed himself tight to Neji's back, burying his nose in the other nin's neck, body quivering with completion. A few more stuttering thrusts and Neji ejaculated as well, sinking back against the hanyou like he knew he'd be caught, like he trusted Sai enough for the action to be reflex. With another little grunt of passion, bodies still connected, his subordinates kissed and Naruto felt as though he could feel the love in the gesture like a caress against his own skin. They sighed and the feeling was the same as seeing the lights of a rescue party after too many weeks lying injured in the field, the sense of salvation almost enough to make him weep. They were okay, thank Kami, they were going to be okay. Naruto sighed, smiling helplessly as he watched them, watched them heal each other.