Chapter Text
The market square was packed with pre-festival chaos. Colorful paper lanterns lined the roofs, vendors set up their street stalls, and civilians crowded the walkways.
Tenten walked through the main village gates, her travel pack slung over her shoulders. She was exhausted from her week away and her hair was messy. Her eyes scanned the crowd.
I knew it, she thought, a disappointed sigh escaping her lips as she adjusted her straps. He got stuck in his head.
"Tenten."
She stopped. Standing next to a stall selling colorful paper fans was Neji.
He was wearing his pristine white robes, but his standard, elegant composure was gone. His hands were stuffed deep into his sleeves, his shoulders were stiff, and he was staring at her with an intensity meant for a rogue ninja hiding in the shadows. He had clearly been waiting for her.
"Hey, Neji," Tenten approached him. "I just got back. It’s good to see you—"
“Tenten," Neji interrupted, his voice dropping. "I have spent the last seven days thinking about what you said before we left. I have considered your deadline. And letting you go to the festival with anyone else... is unacceptable."
Tenten blinked. "Neji, what are you trying to say?"
"What I mean to say is…" Neji squeezed out, a furious pink flush rushing up his neck. His chest heaved under emotional strain. "Tenten... I ask that you accompany me to the Summer Festival as a formal date!”
He was trying so hard to force the words out against his own crippling shyness that his chakra network short-circuited. Fwump.
The handsome face of the Hyūga clan’s prodigy transformed. The blood vessels and chakra pathways surrounding his temples expanded, bulging out against his skin like thick, pulsing roots. A sharp ripple of Jonin-level chakra blasted outward from his feet, scattering the colorful paper confetti across the dirt path.
A group of civilian children nearby let out terrified screams and scrambled behind a mask-seller's cart. The vendor dropped his inventory, backing away in panic.
Tenten stared up at him, her lips parting slightly.
Neji looked through her skeletal system, unable to turn his dojutsu off due to his sheer panic.
"Tenten," Neji tried to explain. "I assure you... I am not tracking a hostile entity. I am merely... struggling to maintain my composure. Please, give me your answer before the crowd calls the ANBU patrols."
A bright laugh burst from Tenten’s chest.
"Oh my god, Neji," Tenten reached up to cup his face, gently tracing the pulsing veins on his cheek. "Yes, of course. I would love to go with you."
The thick, terrifying veins slowly receded, his skin returning to its smooth, normal baseline as Neji let out a long, trembling breath of relief.
“See?” Tenten grinned. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”
***
The week after the Summer Festival, Team Guy’s training field was torn apart from a brutal, sparring session. Lee and Guy-sensei had departed to do a hundred handstand laps around the village, leaving the field empty.
Tenten sat atop a log at the edge of the clearing, wiping sweat from her face. Like clockwork, Neji handed her a thermos of tea.
"Thanks, Neji," Tenten smiled, taking a sip.
He stood in the shade of a tree, watching her.
"I told my grandmother about you,” Tenten started. "She’d like to invite you over for dinner next week, if you’re free.”
Neji went rigid against the trunk. A bright pink flush rushed up his neck, coloring his ears. He stared at a patch of grass near her sandals as he tried to swallow.
"Dinner?" Neji repeated. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "I see. To meet your grandmother."
Tenten watched with a small, knowing smirk. "Neji, relax.”
"I will ensure I am prepared," Neji insisted. His heart was pounding so hard against his ribs he was certain she could hear it. "An evaluation by an elder requires proper manners. It is a matter of utmost importance."
"She’s not going to judge you, Neji," Tenten laughed, standing up. "She just wants to get to know you better and feed you some stew."
Neji’s breath hitched. Looking down at her bright, honest eyes, his mind began to spin. He had survived the caged bird seal, he had faced the grandmaster of his clan, and he had his chest pierced by deadly arrows. But the concept of sitting in Tenten’s kitchen while appealing to an old civilian lady terrified him.
"I will clear my schedule for the evening," Neji stammered, a furious blush spreading across his cheeks. He gripped his hands tightly inside his sleeves to keep them from shaking. "I will not be disrespectful to your house."
Tenten giggled, stepping closer. “Thank you, Neji.”
She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his.
Neji’s brain shut down. He didn't move. He didn't blink.
Tenten pulled back after a few sweet seconds. "Neji? You can breathe now."
Neji’s eyes glazed over as a bright, crimson flush saturated his entire face. A tiny, weak sound escaped his throat. And then, his eyes rolled back.
With the rigidity of a felled tree, the prodigy of the Hyūga clan tipped backwards and crashed onto the grass with a THUD.
Silence descended on the empty training field.
Tenten stared at her boyfriend. He lay flat on his back, unconscious. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, then she reached into her pouch for a cold compress.
"Oh my god," Tenten muttered. "The blood pressure in this family is a disaster."
***
Time and exposure were truly the best medicine. As Neji grew more accustomed to Tenten’s presence, he no longer found himself as paralyzed by her proximity. He still got flustered when she surprised him with a kiss on the cheek or a salacious wink, but he didn’t have an urge to flee on sight every time she smiled at him.
He invited her over to the compound more often. She began sparring with Lady Hanabi, who adored her. She worked well with his other clansmen on missions. Her fighting style was uniquely compatible with the Gentle Fist. His cousins appreciated her and approved of the match.
Unfortunately, some cousins appreciated her too much.
Tenten sat on the veranda, looking elegant in her white qipao top and maroon pants as she supervised a group of younger Hyūga cousins during their target practice.
An eight-year-old Academy student named Kazuki sat at her feet. His pale eyes were fixed onto Tenten’s face with sparkling adoration.
"And then," Tenten smiled warmly, lightly tapping Kazuki’s nose with the end of her pencil. "You just adjust your throwing stance to account for the crosswind. See? Easy."
Kazuki’s face flushed a violent pink. "L-lady Tenten... your accuracy is magnificent. When I graduate from the Academy and become a shinobi... I want to be your partner.”
Neji, who had just stepped out onto the veranda carrying a fresh tray of tea, froze.
His face remained an unreadable mask, but the corner of his left eye twitched.
"Kazuki," Neji addressed him. His voice was a flat, low monotone that dropped the temperature of the courtyard.
The small boy stiffened, turning his head to look up at his legendary older cousin.
Neji set the tea tray down. He crossed his arms, stepping between Tenten and the child, his shadow eclipsing the boy's space. He glared at the eight-year-old.
"By the time you graduate, Tenten will be a senior Jonin," Neji informed him gravely. "You will be far too behind to catch up with her. Find another partner, Kazuki."
Kazuki pouted, his tiny fists clenching as he stood his ground. "But Lord Hiashi said a true Hyūga never surrenders, Brother Neji! I will train twice as hard! I will bring her sweet rice cakes from the kitchen every morning, just as you have!"
A single vein near Neji’s temple pulsed under his immense mental strain. The kid was literally throwing his own uncle's playbook right back in his face.
"The rice cakes in the pantry are not for children to offer our guests," Neji corrected him firmly. "Go back to your target practice."
"Neji, stop it!" Tenten laughed, swatting at Neji’s arm. She looked at Kazuki with an encouraging grin. "Don't listen to him, Kazuki. I think you can be a great shinobi one day. Don't give up, okay?"
Kazuki’s eyes lit up like fireworks. He let out a joyful squeak, bowed neatly, and scrambled off the veranda toward the training posts, victorious.
Neji took a deep breath, forcing himself not to lose his temper over a mere child.
"His stance is sloppy," Neji muttered through gritted teeth as he handed Tenten her tea. "He is wasting his practice time talking with you."
"Aren’t you wasting your practice time talking with me too then?" Tenten teased him.
“It is not the same,” Neji protested, looking away passive-aggressively.
***
War was generally a bad thing, but it certainly had its way of changing people. When the Fourth Shinobi World War peaked and Neji almost lost his life (again), the last image that flashed through his mind was Tenten’s heartbroken face. As he lay in the medical tent, hanging on for dear life, he promised he would no longer squander their precious time together if he survived. So, when Lady Tsunade and Shizune miraculously patched him up (again), he paid no mind to the battle between Naruto and Sasuke.
Madara Uchiha was dead. The Infinite Tsukiyomi had been dispelled, and the Five Great Nations were drafting new alliances after their soldiers bled for each other in the trenches. He found Tenten among the survivors of the First Division. Walking past the cheering crowd, Neji pulled her into his arms and proposed to her, ignoring the distant shockwaves as Naruto and Sasuke blasted each other’s arms off.
Tenten, of course, said yes.
Much to everyone’s chagrin, they were so eager to get married that they skipped the wedding entirely. The village was still being rebuilt, and the fallout of the war absorbed everybody’s schedules. Even if they’d somehow found an unscathed venue, available florists, tailors, musicians, caterers, and photographers, their peers would not have had time to attend anything the year after the war.
Wedding or not, however, getting married was the best thing that ever happened to Neji. He could wake up and fall asleep beside his best friend and his wife every day. He bound his soul to hers, and she promised her life to him. Between almost dying (again) and their sacred vows, the romantic anxiety that plagued his teenage years disappeared.
Tenten had to adjust to being the flustered one now.
One morning several months after the war, Tenten sat on the veranda of their newly shared home, watching the sun rise. Neji approached with a tray of tea.
"Hey, handsome," Tenten teased with a playful wink, leaning back against the wooden post. "You're looking pretty sharp today. Trying to impress me?"
Before the war, this sort of provocation would have caused Neji to blush furiously, look away, and mutter a stiff line about proper presentation.
But now, Neji didn't blink. His expression remained calm. He set the tea tray down, knelt beside her, and leaned forward. His long dark hair brushed against her shoulders. His pale eyes locked onto hers with an unshrinking intensity that made her breath hitch.
"I am always trying to impress you, Tenten," Neji replied softly, lifting her chin. A handsome smirk touched the corner of his mouth. "Has it worked?"
Tenten froze. Her cheeks turned bright pink as she stared back at him, her confidence evaporating under the weight of his unbothered directness.
Neji smoothly withdrew his fingers. He handed her a teacup, his face returning to its smooth, unreadable mask. "Here, I have brought you tea."
Tenten buried her face in her hands, letting out a defeated groan. "Oh my god," she muttered, her heart doing a chaotic flip. "You survived a war and now you can flirt. This is a disaster."
Further down the corridor, Hiashi observed the interaction from behind the shoji screen of his study. A content smile reached his eyes as he took a slow sip of his own tea. His meddling was no longer required. His nephew had finally done it.