Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Death had fallen in love with the young—Deidara, always so eloquent.

The serenity with which he analyzed every point of the crime scene was terrifying, the habit of someone who had lived through the same thing for more than thirty nights in the very streets of Suna.

It was a repetitive pattern that disturbed the tranquil nights of the great city, where, sadly, the most unfortunate let out their final breaths in dead‑end places like that rusted building that reeked of metal.

His eyes roamed the walls covered in a classic flowered paper, the kind you remember from the houses of the elderly. The wooden floor squeaked, and with every step came an agonizing assault on the ears of anyone present at the scene. He gave a quick look to the old, dusty furniture; the fine, delicate spiderwebs swayed to the rhythm of their makers’ steps. Hidan had surely noticed it the moment they entered the room, since he stood on the opposite side taking pictures of the decomposing body lying there.

-How’s Sasuke?

-…Fine. He cut his hair.

-I’m glad. —Meaningless conversations had become routine with every new body they had to examine, and this one was no exception—. The last time I saw him was months ago.

-I’ll send your regards next time, Dei. —He finished fastening the bright tape stamped with the word CAUTION. Given his experience with cases in that same area, it was necessary, thanks to the reckless attitude of the owners who believed that a few cleaning products were enough to erase death’s mark from those rooms and sell to the highest bidder—. What did you find?

The blond adjusted the white gloves at his wrists; the tips of his fingers brushed the whitish skin of the woman lying stiff on the bed, making her gently tilt to the other side of the pillow. The pale skin came off at the slightest touch, drawing a lamenting sigh from the young man.

-Judging by the state of her skin and the smell, she’s probably been dead two or three days, Itachi.

-That’s what I thought. She’s started to bloat. —The mask he usually wore didn’t seem enough against the powerful stench coming off the woman; a small cough escaped, revealing how piercing the reek had become—. Any identification?

-None in particular. —Hidan’s camera gave one last flash against the corpse’s face before he tucked it carefully into the black leather case that accompanied every forensic investigation—. Looks like she got here with nothing.

-Any idea, Itachi?

Plenty, in truth.

-…It gives the impression that her passing was due to natural causes. —He took a few steps to stand beside Deidara, who gave him full access to the body he had just analyzed—. However, it’s curious that she didn’t bring anything with her: no phone, any wallet, jewelry, cards… and also… —his long fingers delicately took the wine‑colored satin sheet and lifted it slowly so as not to peel away more of the putrefying skin— the hands are placed meticulously over her stomach.

-As if someone had arranged her that way. —Deidara touched Itachi’s shoulder softly, a signal that it was time for the forensic personnel to move the young woman elsewhere.

-Poor girl. —Itachi glanced at his partner as he freed his hands from the latex gloves. Hidan’s look carried sorrow… maybe pity for the dark‑haired girl; he had never been so unguarded in cases that involved people this young—. What did you do to end up like this?

-Hidan, stop talking to corpses. You’re creeping me out. —Itachi’s grayish irises watched the bag close around their new discovery, ignoring the muttered complaints of his long‑haired friend—. Maybe she’s just another prostitute. We’re in the lowest part of Suna, after all.

As soon as they left the room guarded by police, they were able to remove the masks that had held back the foul odor of the lifeless woman. Itachi tucked his carefully into the pocket of the dark suit jacket he normally wore, though his eyes were fixed on the floor, trying to formulate a coherent hypothesis about the person found dead that night.

-She’s not a prostitute, Deidara.

-How are you so sure?

-We’ve worked together four years, Deidara; I can recognize one when I see one. —His shiny black shoes echoed along the long hallway that led to the second‑floor stairs. He could hear the footsteps of his two companions following a little clumsily behind—. They’re usually made up, hair loose in curls or dyed, provocative clothes, big necklines and high heels… No. She wasn’t a prostitute. Her face was simply washed, only a glossy lip balm, well‑kept hair, natural, in a high ponytail… comfortable yet pretty clothes. A loose dress with a leather jacket; on top of that, worn—but cared‑for—Converse. That’s not a prostitute, Deidara.

-She was very beautiful, too, like a Snow White.

-Well, this one didn’t get her prince. —The choke that caught in Hidan’s throat at the blond’s brazen remark drew a burst of laughter from him.

If heaven really existed, he already knew why he would never find himself there with Deidara.

The screech of wheels rang out as the gurney went by; the nauseating odor of decomposition returned to their nostrils for a few seconds. He looked at his wristwatch and let out a long sigh. He definitely wasn’t going to sleep that night. Again.

-So… any idea who she might be?

-For the moment I don’t remember any missing girl in Suna. Sasori is checking the records.

-I was wondering why I didn’t see him with you; I thought you’d fired him.

-Nothing like that. Sasori’s an excellent asset; I’m just dialing down his tasks. In a few days he’s transferring to the special units in Bologna.

-He’s what? —Deidara wrinkled his nose at the idea. From his pocket he pulled out a small stick of gum and popped it into his mouth, still incredulous.

-It must be for his girlfriend, that girl. —Hidan, for his part, motioned for them to get into his old car, already running, toward the morgue on the fourth floor where their new discovery was waiting—. I’m happy for them.

-How pathetic, the things a man does for a piece of ass.

-Whatever the reason, Sasori has always backed me up. He’ll do an excellent job in Italy… and thank heaven he’ll stop making video calls with Sakura in the middle of a police investigation.

-What about you?

-I’ll be fine on my own.

-Yeah, I know. But without a researcher like Sasori, things get complicated.

The cold wind of dawn struck his face. Itachi closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back in the leather seat of that car. He had already thought about it, and he had a good feeling about it.

-I’ll find someone.

---

Three days. Three hells, rather.

He remembered with disdain when he was a child and said cutting words without thinking—when he would, without meaning to, make Hinata’s eyes fill with tears so she would flee to the shelter of her mother’s bed.

But now he had not the faintest idea where he could find her again.

His heart burned with pure fury, with grief. The world kept moving without stopping; people lived their dull, stupid lives; the cars kept to their routine routes… but no one stopped and asked:

Where is Hinata?

It seemed the only one aware of it was him. The very night she left home and he didn’t hear her soft footsteps on the smooth wood of the hallway, he suspected the worst. The hands of the clock kept advancing until minutes turned into hours, and she didn’t appear anywhere.

His voice sounded more desperate each time he was told no one had seen her that night at that bar. Every time he shouted her name into the chill of the dark, his throat burned; every time he called out to her, he felt the blood rise in his mouth in terror, in an irreversible shock.

To him, those uniformed people with airs of grandeur could go to hell. They refused to start a search immediately because “twenty‑four hours hadn’t passed yet.” The impotence he felt grew with every second he sat in that damn metal chair, filling out records that would end up in the trash like everything else in his case.

The streets began to fill with a thousand posters at dawn, each one pasted by the same dark‑haired man who spent the night going door to door across Konoha looking for any sign.

But it was all in vain. It was as if Hinata had vanished from her hometown.

Only three days had passed, but to his furious, anxious heart it felt like twenty years.

In that time, the only thing he got from Konoha’s incompetent security force was that she had probably run off with some guy. He would have torn their eyes out right there, but if he was behind bars, who would keep searching?

The bags under his eyes showed the effort it took not to fall asleep while he posted every last identifying detail about the girl, keeping vigil over his cell phone in case anyone knew his Hina’s whereabouts.

And someone did call, though not the way he expected.

-Have you reported the disappearance of a girl—Hinata Hyuga, right? —The apathetic tone of the man on the phone sent his stomach into a knot.

He knew what was coming, but he didn’t want to hear it.

-…Yes. This is him.

-We’re calling from the Suna police station. Early this morning we found the body of a young woman matching those characteristics. We hope you can come help with identification. Good night.

---

The sun was beginning to lift the darkness; a new day seemed to be dawning for the officers of the Suna department. Sadly, it wasn’t the same for the unidentified girl lying on the slab, now covered simply by a thin sheet that outlined her silhouette.

-How long has it been since you called him? My shift ended half an hour ago.

-Just an hour. Relax. The guy’s coming from Konoha; it’s normal for him to take a while.

-What do you care, Sasori? —The wad of gum Deidara had been chewing was replaced by a bright red lollipop that he kept passing across his lips. The clicking noise added one more tic to the young redhead who stacked piles of papers on his old dark‑wood desk—. Tomorrow you’re off to Italy anyway, you traitor.

-You’re calling me a traitor? Who was the wimp who switched from the investigations unit to forensics because he was bored of having a sweaty ass?

A snort burst from the blond’s nostrils as he settled more comfortably on the leather sofa in that small office. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself, but he would miss fighting with that idiot Sasori once he left.

-Show some respect, would you? There’s a girl down in storage.

-Please, Hidan, shut up. There are like forty more. What are they going to do to me? Take me to them? Even better.

-May God forgive you, Deidara.

A soft knock on the office door cut short their brief conversation. Itachi, who had kept quiet while they waited for the person they’d been expecting for fifty minutes, lifted his gaze to Sasori, who immediately went to the door under everyone’s expectant eyes.

As soon as Officer Uchiha saw the visitor, he couldn’t help raising an eyebrow—curious, intrigued. Standing before them was a boy almost identical to the deceased; a little taller, long chestnut hair tied up in a messy bun with a few strands escaping to frame his face.

Thin lips with faint bite marks, probably from anxiety; slanted eyes so light they were hypnotic to the black‑haired man; faint purple bags beneath them revealed how little sleep he’d had the last few nights. His thin eyebrows were drawn tight in worry.

And his pale skin, nearly matching a cadaver’s. He would swear it looked so fragile that even the slightest scratch would show instantly. He glared at each of them in fury, waiting for someone to finally dump the bucket of ice water on him. But because of the charged tension in the young man’s gaze, no one dared say what he was waiting to hear.

The brunette clenched the strap of his old backpack with all his strength, clearing his throat so the words could come spilling out like a verbal purge.

-I’m here to identify the body you found… I’m Neji Hyuga.

Silence was the guest of honor in that room. The officers looked at each other, weighing who would be the lucky one to take the newcomer down to the basement full of corpses, elegantly named “the morgue.”

Heading in there alone didn’t give them goosebumps—they’d been doing it for years, going in and out as if it were their own home. But when it came to family reunions like this one, the living usually let out wails at the sight of the body that could deafen half the station; getting them out without them trying to drag the deceased away was a headache.

The whole team hated body identifications.

But to the police team’s surprise, when they turned their eyes to the prestigious Officer Uchiha, he was already standing next to the redhead, staring with intrigue at the newly identified Neji Hyuga.

-Follow me. I’ll take you. Deidara, hurry up. —The blond only rolled his eyes, stood, grabbed the room keys and trudged after Itachi.

---

The almost rusted corridors under the relentless light of the bulbs leading down to storage set his nerves on edge. Even though he knew what awaited him once he crossed the door into the deepest room, he couldn’t stop the terror flooding his heart.

He wasn’t sure if the drop in temperature came from his own body trying to protect itself from the situation, or from the refrigerators that held the people stripped of life. Every step felt like walking into a giant block of ice he would freeze into, unable to escape no matter how loud he screamed.

The corridor ended at the large metal door that separated life from death. He felt the touch of a warm hand on his shoulder; when he looked up, he met the black eyes of the policeman who had brought him there. There was no comfort in them, not even pity or empathy for his situation.

It was a look that confused him. Maybe Neji was delirious, but he could compare it to an animal about to devour its prey.

-Step back. —The gentle push from his guide snapped him out of his trance and set his focus back on why he was there. He had no time for mixed signals, so he brushed the hand off with indifference and felt the icy draft the moment the door opened.

The jingle of keys against the wall announced the door was fully open. The confidence with which the two officers entered made him feel his feet might trip over themselves with emotion running so high.

The cold room held nothing but metal drawers along walls made white and gray by time. Strange instruments—useful for learning the inside of all of them—glass containers holding bits and pieces from bodies examined earlier, from organs to eyeballs that gave him the sense of being constantly watched.

And there, before him: the table that would star in his future nightmares.

Under the drone of the lights, the sheet traced the silhouette of the person he begged heaven not to be the owner of all those missing posters.

Sadly, when the fair‑haired officer twisted the sheet between his fingers and folded it back with care, a moan of pain caught in his throat and, in a second, his eyes filled with tears.

The eyes that had once shone with the intensity of a thousand suns, the lips that smiled at him and spoke with gentleness, the cheeks reddened by every compliment—

were gone forever.

He wished he were dreaming, wished he were six years old again so that waking would mean Hinata was there to comfort him after his nightmares. He wished with all his strength to hug her and feel the warmth only she could give him. His hand reached for that cold face; his trembling fingers stroked the firm skin of her cheeks, and the warmth of his fingertips against that icy texture hammered home the painful reality.

All the light she radiated, that joy and fierce fire of hers, was now nothing more than a bundle of decomposing flesh.

His legs turned to jelly—shaking, weak—until he collapsed into a squat, holding on to the edge of the metal table. He wanted to scream, to hit something, to cry until his eyes burst out of his skull. The air jammed in his throat so hard that gagging replaced the heavy breaths tearing out of him.

The death grip he had on the gurney made the squeaky wheels roll in time with his sobbing gasps. The floor, glossy from so much disinfectant, was now stained by the unending tears of the shattered Neji Hyuga.

Minutes were irrelevant; hours, probably frozen. To everyone else’s eyes, Neji stayed locked in that position, but if you sharpened your hearing you could make out the muted sobs still shaking him.

That was normal—the team was used to leaving the family member alone with the body for a few hours and returning when the crying stopped. However, although Deidara left as soon as he lifted the sheet, Itachi had remained, watching the young man collapse on the floor. The cold black eyes observed, intrigued, every sound and movement.

Curiosity lodged in his chest like a needle—tiny, painless.

Neji didn’t notice when Officer Uchiha ran his tongue along his teeth as his lips stretched into a discreet smile.

Like an animal… stalking its prey.

An unexpected shiver ran down his spine; the feeling of being watched so insistently made him glance back over his shoulder for a moment.

But there was no one there anymore.

---

-You idiot. Are you seriously going to abandon us for a woman? —Deidara stared in obvious displeasure at his old friend packing his things into a crumpled box with big letters that read FRAGILE.

-Yes, seriously. And she’s not just some woman—she’s going to be my wife.

-Congratulations, Sasori. I hope Sakura doesn’t regret marrying you.

-Thanks. I’ll make sure she doesn’t. —Their hands clapped together once he finished shoving his things carelessly into the box. He didn’t regret his decision, but there was still a thorn pricking inside. He turned his big blue eyes to his loyal partner, ready to pull the doubt out of his head—. Itachi, have you found my replacement yet?

His disinterested gaze, fixed on the office entrance, shifted to him. With a long sigh, he leaned against the greenish wall and scratched his cheek.

-I was actually thinking of staying on my own.

-What?! You didn’t consider me as your future partner?!

-Don’t take it personally, Deidara, but you’re noisy. You’re a nuisance.

-Noisy?!

-How about Kisame? He just joined the state police; he’s a solid option.

-Maybe you could consider Tobi. He just graduated, but he’s got potential.

-Please… choose me. —The firm, ragged voice made every head turn. The young Hyuga had returned, and the reddish veins in his eyes broadcast the liters of tears he had shed down in storage.

-Mr. Hyuga, I’m sorry, but this is a conversation—

-I heard everything. He’s leaving; you want an assistant, right? —His clumsy steps took him straight to Officer Uchiha. The desperation—and the resolve—in his gaze froze words in the man’s mouth—. I’m Neji Hyuga, a student at the University of Konoha. I’m in my senior year for a degree in forensic science and criminology. You don’t need to pay me. I can be your intern. I’m efficient—the best in my class. —With every word, the distance between him and Itachi shrank.

The hands that, minutes earlier, had touched the frigid skin of a lifeless being were now fisted around the collar of Itachi’s shirt, the smaller man pinning him back.

-Just let me take part in the investigation into my Hinata. I promise I’ll do everything you ask of me.

The hot breath pouring from his nostrils brushed across the black‑haired man’s face, who wore a curious look at the young man’s pleas.

-…I promise to be at your complete service.

No one in the room said a word. They were wrapped in a confusion they couldn’t fully understand. Who did that little guy think he was to believe Itachi would take him as his next partner?

The protagonist of the moment kept quiet. The Hyuga’s face—furious and torn—was his only visual focus. He showed no sign of annoyance, didn’t even look tempted to take him up on it; he just stood there, neutral.

Then Deidara, pulling the red lollipop from his caramel‑soft lips, stepped toward the boy who had clearly been offended by the nerve of getting in the black‑haired man’s face. He reached out a hand to push him back, but, surprisingly, Itachi was the one who stopped him before he even touched the younger man’s arm.

-Your determination is admirable, Mr. Hyuga. It’s rare for an outsider to our work to want to be part of a case like this without any morbid intent. —With brusqueness disguised as gentleness, he shoved the blond aside and took the other’s hand in a tight grip that drew a small grimace from Neji—. Then you’ll be part of this case, Mr. Hyuga, so we can learn your family member’s cause of death.

-Her name is… Hinata Hyuga.

-Then—welcome to the Hinata Hyuga case, Mr. Hyuga.

Neji didn’t know it then, but he was walking into a predator’s mouth.

Chapter Text

Neji arrived at the police station earlier than planned, the deep circles under his eyes posing an unanswered question: perhaps due to his first sleepless night after recognizing Hinata's pitiful body, or perhaps due to the time he had to wake up to catch the first bus to Suna. Probably both answers were correct, as the Hyuga's clear eyes had small red lines that revealed the tears he had shed the night before.

His throat was dry, and the echo of his own cries rang in his ears like a cruel reminder of his reality, in which his cousin was no longer by his side. The place was still closed, which made sense since the sun hadn't even risen over the sandy hills of that shabby city he didn't particularly like. She looked at her phone for a moment. Apart from the hundreds of messages she received every day from scammers lying about the whereabouts of the late Hyuga, the ones written by her girlfriend stood out the most.

They followed the same pattern every day, first with a concerned tone, and at the end of the day, the letters she used became capitalized, denoting how upset she was that he hadn't seen her in the last three days.

To be honest, he had always loved Ten Ten, but now he didn't care about anything.

–Wow, don't you sleep or what?– The voice that had spoken to him on the phone the night before could be heard in the darkness of that morning. Even remembering that made him cringe.

He looked up. Yes, it was definitely him. He was wearing a black coat that covered most of his body and leather gloves on his hands, which held the jingling keys to the place.

–Good morning. I'm committed to the case.–

–With the case or with your dead sister?– The redhead said it with such simplicity that it made Neji clench his fists a little. It's incredible how these guys treat the deceased as just another number.

–Both.–

–Well, I guess you'll be a big help to Itachi.– He gestured for him to come in as soon as the door was open, which the light-eyed man did without saying a word. Yesterday, he hadn't had a chance to take a good look around, but at first glance, the passage of time was evident. The walls had torn wallpaper, to the point that it moved with the slightest breeze. The whitish metal tables were beginning to show rust spots, and the light wood tables had small splinters.

The plastic chairs had broken parts, probably because someone who didn't get what they wanted took it out on the station's furniture.

However, upon entering the office of the police officers he had met the night before, there was an unexpected change.

The dark wood walls gave the place a vintage feel. There was no wallpaper anywhere; it was just smooth and clean, unlike the main room of the station. Three deep red desks were scattered throughout the space, and a large velvet sofa stood in the center of it all, on top of a long rug that resembled a black cloud.

As soon as you walked through the door, you could smell the faint scent of incense, accompanied by gunpowder, probably from the weapons rack that was there, and the smell of metal from the old cabinets with papers and papers in one corner of the room.

Each space had a silver plaque to identify who it belonged to. Officer Deidara Bakuyama and Officer Hidan Kanzaki. And he watched as Officer Sasori Kugutsu's plaque was carefully stored in the cardboard box on the empty desk.

–Now this will be your space. You're free to put whatever you want in it,– his fingers gently caressed the wood of that empty desk. It had never crossed his mind that he would have to decorate any kind of space; in fact, he hadn't expected to have one.

–Thank you.–

–Don't thank me. I still don't understand why Itachi preferred an inexperienced rookie over someone more qualified, but I won't argue with his reasons. He knows what he's doing.– The impact of some papers against his chest made Neji recoil slightly.

The now former employee of that station struggled to pick up the box, now filled with various personal items, and before leaving, he turned to look at him one last time. The black-haired man hated that everyone in that gloomy place felt zero empathy towards the living, and also towards the undead.

-This is my final contribution to this investigation. The owners of the old motel where the body was found were interviewed.- The normality with which he spoke about it sent shivers down his spine, but the worst thing he could do at that moment was to feel fear in front of people of that caliber. He just listened and followed the man's footsteps with his eyes as he headed for the exit. - They avoided calling the police earlier because the room had been paid for five days and five nights. When the smell became unbearable for the other tenants, they contacted the department. Their testimony is that a man approximately the same age as the victim requested that room... The name of the credit card holder used to pay for that transaction is in those reports. Before the door closed completely, Sasori paused.

A sly, mocking smile appeared on his lips, only provoking an anger that he calmed by digging his nails into the papers he was holding.

–I wish you luck, rookie. Guys like you don't come out of this well.–

And with that, he slammed the door shut, ending the conversation.

Although his first thought was to insult that disgusting guy, it wasn't the right moment, not when he was partially right.

He examined the papers one by one, until the name of the cardholder that the redhead had told him was double-underlined with a highlighter.

Kiba Inuzuka.

---

–Why not? Here's the damn name! Shouldn't you arrest him? What kind of cops are you?–

–Two things, kid. One, I'm on the forensic team, I don't give a damn about arresting people. Two, you can't put anyone in jail for a fucking credit card.–

–But there's evidence!–

–...Neji, I'm sorry, but Deidara is right.– Hidan's tone was calmer and less harsh than the blond's, who looked at him angrily. He appreciated it, but he wasn't entirely calm. There was his card number, the transaction, and the receipt. What else did they expect? For him to kill someone else? For him to escape?

He wasn't his first choice when he thought of a likely murderer; they had been good friends in high school while Hinata had a secret relationship with him behind her parents' backs. But now that he remembered better, he had always been a temperamental boy, quickly carried away by his emotions and doing things without thinking first.

Yes, he was definitely the culprit. But the two idiots sitting on the velvet cushions weren't going to help him.

The fleeting idea of going straight to Officer Uchiha sounded tempting. He arrived moments after Sasori set off for Italy, but he only gave him a formal greeting and went to lock himself in the inner door of that office, which had a large metal sign with the name –Itachi Uchiha– on it.

However, if no one helped him, how were they going to make any progress?

He stopped listening to the two men sitting on the sofa who were only reproaching him for his lack of professionalism in wanting to go after the first suspect while they drank their daily caffeine from that old coffee maker in one of the cabinets. He went to his newly inherited desk and took the crumpled piece of paper with Kiba's name written on it by hand, and without further ado, he knocked on the glass of that door.

 There was no response, neither affirmative nor negative. But his blood was already boiling from the conversation he had had with the men he called colleagues, so being ignored by his –boss– would not increase the knot in his stomach. His door was open; he could tell when he heard the door lock not engage as he turned the knob.

His first impression was the exotic taste of such black colors. Not only was the infrastructure of the place dark, but his folders, computer, and even clothes were bathed in the intense, deep color.

However, he wasn't there to see his maniacal obsession with darkness, but to talk about Kiba's arrest.

–Officer Uchiha.– Itachi's fingers stopped caressing the letters on the keyboard. A long sigh escaped his lips, causing the younger man to clench the paper he would carry as evidence between his fingertips. Although he had promised to be as extreme as he could be for Hinata's memory, he couldn't deny that the thought of upsetting Itachi made him nervous. –Good morning, I'm sorry to interrupt, but Officer Sasori left me some information and I want to review it with you.– 

He didn't respond, prolonging Neji's nervousness since he entered the office. The scene seemed frozen, Itachi kept his hands on the keys but didn't press any, and the shorter man didn't move from the door until he got an answer.

Itachi carefully lowered the lid of his computer. The sound of the two parts colliding made Neji swallow hard. Apparently, it was his turn to act. His feet moved softly across the wooden floor. The older man's eyes then carefully scanned every limb of his opponent, losing themselves in the pale face of the younger man, who couldn't hold his gaze.

He slid the paper onto his desk, moving to the opposite side from Neji. Itachi barely looked at it, as his eyes tried to find those of the brown-haired boy, who was avoiding him. Unfortunately, the touch of Itachi's fingertips on his knuckles made him look up for a few seconds. Seconds in which he felt a strange tingling in his gut.

Itachi's eyes were terribly intense, holding the lamentations of every person who had come to him for help, and yet, with all that darkness in his irises, they were like an attractive fire.

No matter how close you get, you're going to get burned.

His fingers didn't just run over her knuckles; with subtle movements, he touched part of her wrist, and Neji could have sworn he was trying to pull her into his abyss.

But as tempting as it sounded, Neji wasn't up for that. So he just pulled his hand away as Itachi took the paper in his hands.

–The headline... Kiba Inuzuka, I know him, he was dating Hinata, he may be involved.– Itachi spent a few milliseconds looking at the paper before his gaze returned to Neji, but the tone of his gaze was different, perhaps a hint of annoyance hidden there. He still didn't say a word, only managing to irritate Hyuga even more. –If you can, we should go gather information and maybe arrest him.–

–Arrest someone for their credit card? Are you sure you're studying criminalistics?– Those were the longest words I'd ever heard from Itachi, and all the attraction that had been fleeting minutes before vanished instantly.

–Well, maybe not arrest him, but we can get information out of him.–

-What could he give us for the case? He probably just lost his card.

–Or maybe he's stupid and used it to pay for the motel.

–If that's the case, what makes you think he'll confess to his crime, young Hyuga?–

–And what makes you think, Officer Uchiha, that he won't turn himself in?– Neji's brow was already furrowed with frustration, and Itachi, who seemed intrigued by what he was saying, could see it perfectly. –Besides, I haven't announced her death yet. Everyone thinks she's just missing.–

–I've been doing this for years, unlike you with your inexperience. I told you not to let your emotions get the better of you. Evidence isn't always real; it may be fabricated. If you believe that the first person we find is going to be the culprit, it's better if your help ends here.

–Fine, then just let me go ask if he knows anything about whether he saw her before. Maybe he'll lead us to the truth.–

–It won't do any good.–

–And what good will it do for you to sit there?– The words came out like verbal vomit from Neji, and he didn't even care.

Itachi just raised an eyebrow as he examined Neji's face, which was beginning to turn red, probably from the heat of the argument, or from embarrassment at his words, although his decisive gaze suggested the former.

–I've learned a lot that way, young Hyuga, and you'd better not let yourself be carried away by anger, or you'll probably end up dead too.– The coldness of his words only added fuel to the fire that had formed inside Neji.

Before Neji's expectant eyes, the older man opened his computer and began typing again as if the arduous conversation had never happened.

And if there was one thing that bothered Hyuga, it was not being taken seriously.

Unexpectedly, Itachi's dark laptop was slammed shut, meeting Neji's eyes, which were filled with annoyance and unwavering determination.

–I'm going to Konoha, Chief. I'll meet with Kiba, and he'll tell me everything he knows. I'm going to prove to him that his years of experience aren't everything in this investigation, because Hinata Hyuga isn't going to be another fucking report filed away in his drawer.– The brown-haired man finished before leaving Itachi's office, who, between surprise and intrigue, couldn't help but smile curiously.

Fascinating.

---

Life is too short to dwell on small details, unless those small details bring back nostalgic memories that stick in your head, as was the case with Neji. Arriving in that small neighborhood in the middle of the big city of Konoha flooded his head with memories that now become a living treasure.

The old neighborhood –8,– as the residents called it to refer to the number of residents who lived there, was the home where Hinata and he spent their best years with their parents when they were just children. The first house he saw as soon as he entered the place was a blow to the chest. It was no longer as he remembered it, so white and with the garden finely mowed by his mother, but the walls were adorned with horrendous graffiti and the grass was eating away at every flower that was still standing.

It was deplorable and sad for little Neji Hyuga. It seemed that nothing he considered most important in his life was holding up well, or staying alive.

The broken windows of his room revealed the desolate interior, and a fleeting question crossed his mind: were the drawings Hinata had painted as a child still on those dirty walls, had some delinquent defaced them with spray paint, or would some fool think they were part of a ghost?

Ghost.

If Hinata were a ghost right now, he hoped her paradise would be in that same house while they played in the garden, because that's where he wanted to be with her when his time came to leave this damn world.

His arms couldn't help but wrap around himself in an embrace. Now he had to deal with that pain alone and make sure his beloved Hinata had the peace she deserved.

He didn't want to stop looking at that old house, but it was time to face the truth, so he slowly looked at the house that was just a few meters away, which belonged to his former neighbors, the Inuzuka family.

He had barely reached the door when the barking of a dog greeted him instantly. In his mind, the fleeting image of Hinata asking him to accompany her to Kiba's house because she was terrified that his dog Akamaru would bite her brought a barely visible smile to his face. Unsure of what to do, he gently knocked on the freshly painted oak wood. A few minutes later, he heard the dog being scolded and footsteps approaching the door.

–Neji?– was the first thing the brown-haired man said when he saw him. Although Neji knew the reasons for his visit, and that he was probably responsible for his sister's death, the reunion with his old friend filled his chest with a strange, even nostalgic warmth. –What a surprise, I haven't seen you in years, old man.–

–Kiba, I know... How have you been?– Kindness had never been his strong suit, but if he wanted to get to the bottom of everything, he had to gain the trust of his possible culprit. –I need to talk to you about something.–

–Whatever you want, friend, but before that...– A silence of doubt filled the air. Kiba looked for a moment at his hands, which were beginning to sweat, and then at the boy in front of him. –Have you found Hinata yet?–

The air seemed to get stuck in his throat. Although the search for Hinata had become known throughout the city, no one had asked him before if the search had been successful. He was unable to admit the cruel outcome, much less lie to those eyes that looked at him with hope. Neji simply looked away, to a blind spot, in order to answer him.

–Not yet, she's still missing. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Kiba.– He could have sworn that his eyes would glaze over in that situation, so he just closed them tightly and looked back at him directly. –I'm cooperating with the police to find her.–

–Oh...– The way Kiba looked down dejectedly felt like a reflection of himself when he received negative news about her whereabouts. The feeling that they were both suffering from the same emotion was something that stuck in Neji's mind, but that could make him believe he was a possible murderer, so he remained firm. –So, do you need anything from me?–

–They found that you rented a room in Suna... a hotel where they saw Hinata.–

His bewildered face was the brown-haired man's first reaction, and he stepped slightly aside, allowing Neji to enter his dwelling.

Apparently, it was going to be a very long conversation.

---

The steaming smoke from the tea on the small table in the living room was all Kiba could see. He remained silent, analyzing the situation he seemed to be in. For his part, the investigator didn't even want to open his mouth, perhaps not ready to face the reality of what was happening, and he would give him space to understand it.

Even if he didn't want to, the spirits of what once was haunted him everywhere he looked. The kitchen where Hinata often went to bake cookies with Kiba's mother. The stairs where he caught his cousin sharing her first kiss with the brown-haired boy when she had just turned 15. The living room, a mess after every party Kiba threw. Everything was a memory that buried him deeper in the pain of his own martyrdom.

If he could, he would keep his eyes closed during that interrogation, but it wasn't very professional on his part as a rookie.

–...I...– The taller man's voice silenced Neji's thoughts, and he turned his gaze only to him, as a sign that he was listening. –I only had one credit card. But I lost it.–

–You lost it?– thought the long-haired man. Perhaps he had been too trusting and was really involved.

–Yes. I lost it a few weeks ago, but I...– An unexpected break could be heard in Kiba's voice as he sank further into the sofa in his home. –I saw Hinata one last time.–

A few weeks ago, if that was the case, then the thing with her card happened long before she even disappeared. His teeth caught his lip thoughtfully; apparently, there were more pieces to the puzzle.

–When did you last see her?–

–I'll tell you, okay, but when you see her, don't tell her I said anything.– His fingers fumbled with his teacup, which was his anchor. –I looked for her to fix things between us.–

–Didn't you two break up a long time ago?– Neji seemed to have hit the nail on the head, because the cinnamon-haired man began to tap his leg incessantly on the floor.

–I know.– He paused for a moment, trying to rephrase his words. –We broke up, but I thought she might give me another chance.–

–Why would she do that?–

–Because I fucking love her!– It was the thunderous crash of the teacup against the table that made Neji jump a little in his seat. Kiba's sudden mood swings were not surprising, but he should have thought a little before bringing someone with him for any situation. –Isn't that enough?– How do you think I feel after the woman of my life dumped me for a fucking shitty singer?!– Tears began to roll down the man's cheeks against his will, accompanied by his loud voice breaking with every word.

His hands clenched tightly around the cup, which was beginning to cool as the minutes passed. In all the time he had known Kiba, it was the first time he had broken down like this, and he didn't think it was because of his cousin. Perhaps continuing with this would only increase the man's anger, but he really needed to gather as much information as he could, even if it meant ending up with a black eye or a bloody nose.

–...Why did you break up in the first place?– She appreciated that Kiba was trying to calm down, his fingers pressing hard on the bridge of his nose as he took deep breaths. It took him a few minutes before he returned to his seat, trying to regulate his strong emotions.

–She said she met someone else,– Kiba muttered, his hands fidgeting with each other in a desperate attempt to calm down. –She told me I was too intense for her.–

And from what just happened, I agree with Hinata.

–At first I thought she was playing one of her fucking bad jokes,– he took a big sip of his tea, leaning his head back on the sofa and staring at the ceiling, –but when I saw her, she was at Choji's fucking party flirting with that asshole Naruto.–

The flashback Neji had at that moment matched what Kiba was saying. He remembered that same night when the two boys started fighting outside Choji's house, and two guys even had to come in to break them up.

–Did you look for Hinata because you were upset?–

–I wasn't just upset...– The brown-haired boy's whisper sounded like a pitiful cry from deep within that temperamental young man. –I was disappointed, sad. You know, it sucks. The person you hope to spend the rest of your miserable life with, the person you plan to start a family with, just leaves one day. A long sigh escaped his lips before he continued his story. I tried to make her see reason. Naruto is a piece of trash, Neji. He would never give her the place she deserves. He's a filthy womanizer. What did my princess have in store with him? A fucking martyrdom.

It was no longer a dialogue; Kiba continued his monologue under Neji's attentive gaze.

–I tried to talk to her again and again and again. Do you know what I did for her? I quit drugs, man. The hallucinations I experienced with those things in my system were the same ones I felt with Hinata. By her side, I felt alive, I felt happy without having to damage my body. Hinata is my whole life, pure happiness... They say that true love means that if you love someone, you have to let them go, but how can I do that? She deserves better than Naruto, and I would even change my last name for her. You know us, friend, all three of us. Do you think Naruto will give her the place she deserves? Never. He doesn't appreciate her kisses, or even her hugs or smiles. Barely three days after seeing them flirting, I found Naruto almost making out with Ino. How can he do something like that when my Hinata is crazy about him?

Kiba's face was already red enough, I didn't know if it was because of the anger in his words or the urge to cry again. The cup he was holding ended up crashing into the wall, scaring even Akamaru, who was sleeping next to him. His hands grabbed his hair tightly, leaning on his own legs.

I told you, I could never hide something like that from her. We had a few encounters after that, but she refused to get back together with me because she said Naruto was going to change. The laugh, full of anger and sadness, echoed in Neji's ears. I don't know if that was true, but she seemed crazy about him. I tried to understand her. Why did she like him so much? I even learned to play the guitar to impress her, but apparently, the fucking problem was me.

A few seconds passed before he let out a long sigh. He took a cigarette out of his pocket and brought it to his lips. It was better than continuing to destroy his own home.

–...The last time I saw her,– he muttered as he lit that little object and threw the lighter on the table, –we had sex. She said it was a 'farewell,' I didn't think she meant it so literally,– he took a long drag, trying to hide his eyes that were beginning to glaze over, –but anyway, she said she was going to start a serious relationship with Naruto. I begged her not to leave, that I would do anything for her, I even got down on my knees, but...– Smoke poured from his mouth, causing Neji to grimace as he began to feel sick from the tobacco. –She didn't listen to me, and she left. After that, I saw your posts about her disappearance.–

Neji's eyes couldn't bear to look at him anymore. Although Kiba's assumptions were true, that he was temperamental and sometimes couldn't control his actions, now he really doubted that he was guilty.

He had watched him grow up like a brother: stubborn, strong, and clumsy at the same time. He could fight with everyone and insult every person who stood in front of him. But he never doubted the strong love he felt for Hinata.

His eyes were always full of devotion for her, and Hinata was right that he was very intense, but that intensity led him to love her with a madness incomprehensible to many.

He coughed a little at the pungent smell of tobacco, but Kiba didn't flinch. He rubbed his hands together, trying to formulate the last questions.

–Did he say anything to you during your meetings that you think might be useful?–

The blank look in Kiba's eyes made him understand that he was tired of the subject, but he seemed to be trying to remember something. He put his feet up on the table, his gaze returning to the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts and emotions.

–When I lost my card, she mentioned that she felt something strange.

–Strange?– Kiba nodded, taking another drag on his worn-out cigarette.

–As if she was being followed.–

Neji's eyes widened in surprise. He quickly got up from his seat and crossed the invisible barrier between them, standing on the opposite side of the one that seemed to be breaking down more and more.

–What do you mean, followed?–

–I don't know, she said she felt like she was being watched sometimes,– he muttered without looking at Neji, even though he was right next to him. –She even thought that the person who saw her was the one who took my card. I don't know, maybe it was just a fucking thief and she got confused.–

But the long-haired man knew that if his cousin felt that way, it wasn't for something so simple.

His mind began to connect the dots: the person responsible for Hinata's death knew about her love life, knew about Kiba. So if he managed to steal her card and make a purchase under her name, everyone would suspect her temperamental ex-boyfriend.

But one thing was now certain: the guy lying on the sofa, completely broken, wouldn't have the brains to plan a murder of that magnitude, especially not with the only woman he had loved for the last six years.

–When you leave,– said Kiba, who was oblivious to Neji's thoughts, –please close the door. I don't want Akamaru to get out. Tell me right away when they find Hinata. I want to see her again.–

His chest ached at that request, because he knew that in this life he would not be able to grant it.

He left the house quietly, and before closing the door completely, he took a quick look at the broken man he was leaving behind. Apparently, he wasn't the only one dealing with the loss of Hinata, and that made him feel less of the weight on his shoulders. For a moment, he wished he could be him and believe that someday his princess would return.

---

Apparently, the conversation with Kiba had been quite long, as the sky was already painted in dark colors. His path was barely lit by the streetlights that adorned the streets of District 8, and the cold was beginning to seep into his bones, but he didn't care.

He was deep enough in his thoughts, and the fervent conversation he had with Kiba ended up breaking the little coldness that had formed in his heart until now. The way he broke down at the brief mention of Hinata spoke volumes about how much he loved her and how much her disappearance affected him.

He bit his lip hard, with contained rage at his ignorance. Kiba didn't think for a moment about his cousin's cruel fate; he probably believed she had escaped to another place. The weight of the truth was killing him, slowly crushing him and causing him to bleed inside. How would the brown-haired man react when he found out the truth? Would he take it better with him? Or... would he be able to continue in this world with the pain of loss?

His tears began to flow as he remembered the brief conversations he had had with Hinata about her relationship with him. How beautiful her eyes had shone at the mention of having children and marrying the man she loved. Even when she asked him to be the one to give her away at the altar.

And now, he would never be able to keep that promise.

Her eyes filled with tiny tears, preventing her from continuing on her way. She could barely hug one of those old lampposts and begin to sob, having held back her tears for so many hours.

It was too much, and he hated that, after all, those phony officers were right.

The dazzling lights that pierced his eyes made him open them slowly. Apparently, a truck was stopped in front of him, but he didn't bother to move, as his own sobs prevented him from doing so.

It could be someone good or someone bad. What did it matter? If it meant he could be with his cousin, he wouldn't care if they were bad.

He heard them stop, open the door, and footsteps approaching, but he didn't bother to look up. Only when he felt something warm on his back did he deign to look behind him.

–...Officer Uchiha...–

---

–Better?– Itachi looked ahead from the driver's seat. He let the younger boy unload all his feelings in silent tears, which he didn't dare interrupt as soon as he got into the car.

Neji lazily wiped his tears with the back of the raincoat that the black-haired man had put on his back minutes before, and with distrust, he turned to look at the other man's profile, his gaze full of guilt.

–I'm sorry, you were right.– He paused to let him speak, but when he received silence, he decided to continue. –Kiba isn't to blame, his credit card was stolen.–

–How can you be sure he didn't lie to you?–

–Because a broken man can't lie,– Neji said in a barely audible voice, looking down at his hands, which had marks from his own fingernails from the force he used to restrain himself with Kiba. –Besides, he doesn't know that Hinata is dead.–

His gaze shifted forward, accompanying the older man in looking out at the darkness of the night, barely lit by the stars. He didn't understand why, even though he was accompanied, he ironically felt alone.

–Do you know how much I loved Hinata?– Neji blurted out. He was never a man of many words, but the only way to silence his mind full of painful memories was to let them out through his own voice. –When we were little, I covered for her so she could go with Kiba. They spent hours together. Once, they almost discovered her, and she ended up falling out the window when she tried to escape.– His voice caught in his throat, feeling like it was turning into a thread. –...I told her I would never help her again and that she would never see Kiba again, but...I didn't think it would really happen.– He didn't want to cry again, but it was almost impossible to speak without doing so.

He rubbed his face hard with his hands, desperate to stop the tears and the pain forming in his chest, while Itachi watched him silently, letting him talk.

–How do you do it?

–Do what?–

–This job... without it hurting you.

–People I don't know don't hurt me. Does that answer your question?–

–Can't you imagine it being a family member? Don't you have a family?–

–I do.– He finally deigned to look at the shorter man, who was waiting expectantly for his words. –And I learn from the mistakes of others how to take care of my own.–

The hair that Neji had tied back in a ponytail that morning began to fall over his face as he hung his head, but he didn't seem to care at all.

–The love you come to feel for someone is very strange, don't you think?– It was a rather out-of-place question, yet so accurate that Neji seemed quite vulnerable.

Unexpectedly for Neji, the touch of long fingers running across his face made him shudder. He looked up to find Itachi's black eyes fixed on him with an emotion that made him tremble.

Carefully, his hair was tucked behind his ear as delicately as if he were a fine porcelain doll, and then the edge of his jaw was gently caressed down to his chin, a movement that caused him to lift his face up to the other's.

He could feel his breath close enough, the smell of whiskey and tobacco intoxicating him so much that he lost his own breath. His eyes moved from his counterpart's to his mouth, which barely whispered something that made him feel a knot in his stomach.

–Love is what keeps you alive, Hyuga, and eager for tomorrow. It's an abyss from which it's difficult to escape.–

Chapter Text

The last time he had been in that place was probably more than 10 years ago.

It was just like the last time, the large stained glass windows reflecting the sunlight outside, signaling the start of a new day in Konoha. He had never spent so much time in front of the large wooden cross on the altar in front of the old oak pews, in fact.

Several times he had pretended to be sick so he wouldn't have to participate in the church's holy celebrations, because he was terrified of each of the worn plaster figures attached to the wall. They all told a story, and they all ended the same way: eternal rest for true life in heaven.

But in his childish eyes, he saw nothing but suffering in those statues. Or was he the only one who noticed the terror in their gazes as they bled to death waiting for their end?

Although at the end of the day, there he was. His parents no longer forced him to go and pray for their well-being; Neji was there for answers, for comfort.

The constant creaking of the benches in the cold temperature gave him a strange feeling in his stomach. He seemed to hear the silent sobs of the people whose parents were in that same place, but not by their side; instead, they were in those varnished wooden boxes surrounded by flowers about to wilt. The memory had faded long ago, but it came back to him for one simple reason: that day, Hinata had squeezed his hand so hard that she left it red.

The pain in his squeezed fingers was so strong that he forgot for a moment the pain in his heart.

The adults at the time kept telling him that his parents were now in a better place, but that might have worked for someone who wasn't a child. Were his parents better off without him? And if that was the case, why did they have him in the first place?

He cried for many days. The hours locked in Hinata's room are fresh in his mind. He didn't understand why, if God is as good as they say, he decided one day that his parents should no longer be with him.

And when he told Hinata this through his tears, something stronger took hold in his heart, year after year.

Maybe your parents left because they knew you would be better off with me and my parents.

He was right in the years that followed. The heart of a wounded child could now only be healed by the love of his little cousin. He knew that even though they were gone, he had someone to care for and protect so that she would not feel the same emptiness that he once felt himself.

He sought comfort in her when he lost his parents, but now what comfort did he have left if he had lost her?

The omnipotent being who is everywhere seems so alien to him. He has been in that church for 10 hours, and the suffering eyes of the man on the cross give him nothing but pity and a hint of anger in his being.

He prayed, heaven is witness to the nights of despair he spent begging the man in front of him to bring Hinata back to life, to hold her again and hear her warm laughter that would silence the screams inside him.

But he was so naive. How could he expect a man who couldn't save himself to save Hinata?

The burning in his eyes seemed to intensify with those sleepless hours. They couldn't blame him; a whole week had passed without a single piece of news, not even a hint of possible culprits for his intermittent emptiness. He tried to get more involved, to participate in the collection of evidence, and even swore to Officer Uchiha that he would be strong and avoid acting impulsively when his cousin's autopsy was performed.

However, no one gave him the opportunity.

He didn't know if they were being very kind or very cruel. After all, he had offered to help with anything related to Hinata's investigation, but his inexperience was a stumbling block.

A fleeting memory came to his mind, and with it, a feeling of turmoil in his stomach as soon as the image of the older black-haired man appeared in his head. It had been a week since he interviewed Kiba, and with that, the last time he saw Itachi.

It was like a CD frozen on the same scene. Even though he remembered the conversations she had with her cousin's ex-boyfriend, she always stopped at the image of Itachi's face approaching hers, and he remembered the intense aroma that emanated from his thin lips.

He refused to meet him again, even though she was his assistant. She found the necessary strategies to minimize their interaction in the office, and even though her head wanted to focus solely and exclusively on Hinata.

There was that part, that rebellious part that kept thinking about her boss.

But he knew the officer wasn't stupid and noticed his distant attitude from the first day in the morning, which is why that jerk Deidara and Officer Hidan refuse to give him any information about his cousin's case.

How could they be so afraid of a man?

The thoughts and feelings swirling inside him were silenced by the first vibration he felt against his pants. He carefully took out his phone and slowly read the name. Apparently, he had summoned him, for it was none other than Itachi himself.

I hesitated to answer the call because of the confusing emotions the officer provoked in me, but if I started ignoring him, he would probably take me off the investigation.

And that was the last thing he wanted.

–Officer, good morning.–

–Wow, Neji, it's been days since I've heard your voice.– The hoarse voice on the other end of the line sent a shiver down her spine. He tried to ignore it, to let those little things go unnoticed as before.

But for a reason he didn't want to admit, it was impossible.

–I've been a little busy with some paperwork, I'm sorry.–

–Did Sasori leave you with a lot of work?–

–A little, but I'm fine.– Even though the conversation was probably miles away, the tension in those microseconds felt so palpable. –Do you need me to help you with anything?–

–Yes, actually. Are you busy?–

–No, I'm free.–

-It's rare for such a young guy to be free on a Saturday at 9 in the morning.

-I have other priorities.

–Won't your girlfriend mind that you work so much?– The harsh tone of the raven-haired man made the air catch in his throat. His head told him to stand up to him, not to get involved in his life and stop asking personal questions, but his body didn't seem to agree.

–Actually, I broke up with my girlfriend recently.–

–Oh.– Silence again, as if the man were engaged in one of his typical analyses of unfortunate situations. –I'm sorry.–

–I'm fine, we're friends now. Please let's avoid talking about personal matters, I don't like it. Why did you call me?

–News about the Hyuga case, come to the office soon.– And he hung up, leaving Neji with his heart racing.

But he didn't know if it was because of the new clues or because of Uchiha.

Well, standing there wouldn't solve anything. He slipped his phone back into his bag, and before leaving that sacred place, he couldn't help but glance for a few seconds at the figure of that virgin.

He said nothing aloud, but brought his fingers to his forehead, chest, and then each shoulder, drawing an invisible cross in the air. He finished with a soft kiss and a whispered –amen.–

And his footsteps echoed loudly as he left the church.

---

–You're late, Hyuga.–

–Sorry, I had to take care of some things in Suna before coming.–

–Have you told your family about your sister yet?–

–I'd rather keep her death private until I find out who caused it.–

–It must be hard.– It disgusted him to watch those police officers talk about Hinata's future while chewing their glazed donuts with unpleasant sounds. –To carry this burden alone.–

–I appreciate your concern,– Neji muttered, his gaze fixed on the hands of the man who was eating hastily. –Is Officer Uchiha here?–

The slight nod of his head confirmed his theory. He stared at the dark door for a few seconds. It seemed to exude a deathly silence, where there was nothing but the presence of that cold man who had called him on the phone hours earlier.

–Stop thinking so much,– said the blond man sitting at his desk, causing him to look away for a moment. Although he was still reading some documents, he seemed to notice his indecision as he crossed the threshold. –If you make Itachi angry, he'll kick you out of here, and then it's bye-bye to your dead little sister.–

–Deidara, stop it,– Hidan scolded, but his intervention was too late, as Neji was already biting his lip in anger.

He hated that place, that disgusting smell of death, those horrible gloomy tones, those landscapes of poverty and crime, and above all, those damn cops who treated him like an idiot.

His hands trembled with annoyance as he took the small yellowed notebook that Sasori had left him to write down each clue. He ignored the conversation between the two men and gathered his courage to knock three times on that door.

Sharp, precise knocks, before receiving a barely audible –come in.– The wood creaked slightly as it opened, but it didn't catch the attention of the man who was slowly writing on the worn papers. The velvet carpet molded to the soles of his shoes as he approached the desk covered in papers, but in response to his approach, he received nothing but silence.

He felt something strange, different; in the two weeks he had been there, he had always noticed the silent but insistent gaze that Itachi gave him. He looked at him with a chilling slowness that he tried to ignore, and he wanted to think that some of the friction they had was merely a consequence. His body had a constant feeling of being stalked.

But now, it was rejection.

–Officer.– He tried to get the man's attention, but for several long seconds he received neither a gesture nor a glance. It was as if he were a machine working on autopilot.

Maybe he didn't hear him, or maybe he was just ignoring him.

He smoothed his cotton pants for a moment before slowly sitting down in the chair in front of his boss. His expression remained calm, but his hands playing on his thighs betrayed his growing nerves.

And finally, the black ink stopped staining the white papers. Itachi gave a sharp, dry tap with the papers he had just signed, carefully placed his pen in the old pen holder, and fixed his black eyes on Neji, who couldn't help but swallow hard.

His lips let out a big sigh, the papers ended up in another pile that he would surely have to file away later at the police station, and he crossed his arms on his desk, leaning back to shorten the distance between them a little.

–I'm not so happy with you, Hyuga,– were the words that came out of the black-haired man's mouth. Perhaps it was the long time they had spent without seeing each other in person, but he remembered that he used to have a playful and interested tone when he addressed him. However, now there was a cutting coldness in his voice that caused him some fear.

–...Excuse me?–

–How long did you plan on playing your little game? Two... three weeks?– His words came out without hesitation, only increasing the beating of his heart.

What kind of games was he referring to? The intense looks and –accidental– touches they had in his truck? The broken confessions they dared to exchange? What?

-I don't know what-

–Yes, you do.– His voice sounded more severe, even causing her to shrink in her seat. –First you come to challenge me about Kiba's arrest, you realize I was right, and now? you shirk your responsibilities here. Itachi's fingers intertwined without taking his eyes off his opponent's gray eyes, who was slowly frowning. –Do you think I haven't noticed that every time you don't want to give me the files, you ask Hidan for them? Or every time I want you to help me review documents, you pretend to be busy with Deidara?–

It was like being 7 years old again and getting scolded by his mother for not picking up his toys, but he didn't understand why it felt so different now.

–Do I have to get information from Miss Hinata for you to want to work? What are you, Neji? An investigator or a cat that I have to set traps for to catch?–

The office was silent, interrupted only by the continuous ticking of the clock that Itachi kept on his dark walls. The battle of stares, which at first was evenly matched in terms of power and control, ended with a loser: Neji slowly lowering his gaze to his own hands and biting his already bitten lips in frustration.

–I'm sorry, Officer Uchiha...–

–You're sorry? Is that all you have to say about your deplorable performance?

–I promise this won't happen again,– Neji hastened to say, still unable to look him in the face. –I will devote myself completely to my work.–

Even just looking at his hands, he was sure of the heavy gaze that pierced his head.

At that point, Neji was sure that everything that went through his mind and that he strongly suppressed about Itachi were nothing more than treacherous thoughts that he preferred to lock away in a dark room.

 It was a long few minutes as Itachi got up from his cushioned chair and walked over to the metal coat rack holding his wool coat.

–Let's go, Neji,– he ordered as he meticulously smoothed the collar of his coat and turned the doorknob. –We have to review the new evidence.–

And he left the office, leaving an annoyed and humiliated Neji Hyuga behind.

----

All his life he had hated wooded areas, so lonely and uninhabitable, they caused him unimaginable fear. But just at that moment, as the grass caught his polished shoes again and again, he realized how ironic his life was; in the end, that lonely, gray forest shrouded in fog was the same as Neji's inner self.

He hadn't exchanged a word with Itachi. The entire journey to the outskirts of Suna was so uncomfortably silent that he spent the entire 30 minutes staring out the window . No more questions, no more conversations. What did it matter anyway? They were just coworkers.

For that very reason, he didn't really know why they were there. Deidara, who arrived minutes later on his noisy metallic blue motorcycle, led them through a maze of trees to their destination.

He had never noticed how close the blond was to Itachi until now, as he walked slowly behind them. They talked too much, well, the blond talked and talked while the taller one just nodded or uttered dry monosyllables. Deidara closed the distance with every meter they took, until finally his long pale fingers hung from his boss's characteristic coat.

And for some reason that made his stomach tingle, he played with his hair like a lovesick brat.

It wasn't the first time he had been around a flirtatious couple; in fact, he had a lot of experience from when he dated his best friend and her boyfriend, which was nothing more than cheap poetry and false promises. But watching these two was... different.

The leaves on the trees began to fall with every breeze that passed through the place, and even small drops of dew fell on her face, causing a slight chill that made her shiver for a moment. It seemed endless. No matter how far they walked, it was still the same: large, sturdy trees with their leaves falling in autumn. One or two showed signs of having been set on fire, but surely it was just the illegal logging that takes place in every forest.

He looked down at his shoes for a moment. It was starting to feel slippery underfoot. A swamp was the first thing that came to mind. For some reason, the air felt thicker and hot, horribly hot. The large trees were beginning to disappear, as there were some logs scattered across the muddy ground.

The large hole in front of them made them stop, especially the dirty yellow police tape that surrounded the entire area. He glanced at his boss, who quickly and subtly lifted the tape to cross the barrier with Deidara. The fear of seeing what was in that hole made him hesitate, but one of those demanding looks that Itachi gave him was enough for him to imitate his action.

He took just a few steps and what was smearing his soles was nothing more than mud. It was a short walk to the edge of the large hole in the ground, and he felt that at any moment he could sink into the wet earth.

He lifted his head slightly and finally understood what they were doing there: the smell of wet earth and decaying plants was unpleasant, but combined with rusty metal and gasoline, it was nauseating. There, among the rotten weeds, was a half-sunken car. His brow furrowed when he noticed several more police officers inside that hole with dirty water and algae sticking to their clothes.

–Does this have anything to do with my cousin?– He looked at Itachi for an answer, but Itachi just stood there with his arms crossed, staring at the car that so many people were trying to pull out.

–It could be, rookie,– said Deidara, taking charge of the conversation. –This forest is only a few miles from the road that leads to the motel where we found her. It probably belongs to the killer. We're lucky we got here before it deteriorated further.–

He listened to the men's constant efforts to pull the car out of the water. They tried to take it to the landslide, which was probably where they had thrown the red machine. The tires barely rolled in the mud, and the men slipped in the mud of the makeshift lake.

–We should call a tow truck. Do you have the number, Ita?–

–The tow truck can't get through the trees.–

–What if we bring your car?

–The mud could get the tires stuck. Cars won't help.– It was then, before the brown-haired man's expectant eyes, that Itachi ran his fingers through the shiny buttons of his coat, unbuttoning it as he went and sliding it off his arms until it was removed.

Neji looked away as saliva stuck in his throat, a gesture capable of so many sensations.

An arm stretched out in front of him: Itachi was giving him his coat to hold, which he instantly obeyed and took the garment carefully, feeling the warm wool under his fingers from his boss's body heat.

–Don't even think about it.–

–Dei, if we don't get it out soon, all the evidence will disintegrate.–

–Why doesn't the rookie go? That's what we pay him for.–

–We don't pay him, he's doing his duty, remember? Besides, I signed a liability waiver at the university. If anything happens to him during work, we'll pay for the damage.–

The blond rolled his eyes at the response, showing his annoyance. Reluctantly, he took off his leather jacket, which he threw with contained rage at Neji's face, who took a few steps back from the blow.

He didn't dare contradict Itachi's orders, nor did he have the will to venture into the swampy water. He left the hood covering his eyes lying somewhere in the endless mud, but he didn't dare do the same with the black-haired man's.   The folded coat hung from his forearms, and with each movement came the scent of spices, surely from the black-haired man's perfume.

He wanted to remain calm as he watched both men wade into the mud and weeds of that swamp, witnessing the car trying to give the owner a face. He wanted to do everything possible not to look at Itachi, but it seemed an impossible task when the scent of his coat overwhelmed the damp smell of the place.

Then he only saw him; how he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, how the sleeves stuck violently to his arms as he exerted himself. The way his veins stood out with the effort, and his eyebrows slightly furrowed with each push they made.

The thing was, Neji found it so stupid that a guy like him could provoke such unfamiliar feelings in him. Envy? Respect? Admiration?

Desire?

After a few minutes, the men managed to pull out the red bodywork that was sticking out among thousands of rotten weeds using improvised ropes. The license plates, still visible among the dirt, were the first thing they wrote down in their small evidence notebooks and captured in various photos with their police cameras.

It was like a slight blow of reality for Neji, as his reason returned to his thoughts, sinking the image of Itachi deep into his mind. He approached cautiously, intrigued by the car with broken windows that was now being investigated.

If Deidara's theory was true and that car had previously transported Hinata, there should be some evidence inside, some object, clothing, even notes. His hands forgot what they were carrying for a moment, sliding the coat onto the muddy ground as he intertwined his hand with the door handle in order to gather information.

–Back off.– The tug he felt as he was pulled away left him bewildered, but more than that, his head began to heat up with anger.

He was ready to protest at the lack of consideration shown to him. After all, what did they know about her if he was the person who had lived with her for more than 10 years? But as soon as his eyes met those of the perpetrator of that unpleasant action, he had to bite his tongue hard.

How Itachi Uchiha pissed him off.

The latex gloves slipped onto his hands, and as if that weren't enough, when Itachi leaned over to pick up an object from the car, another push kept him away from the scene.

–Evidence,– he said dryly, carefully placing the object that was dripping water into a plastic bag, slowly closing it, and putting it in the large cardboard box for discoveries.

He didn't even have time to ask what it was, or even offer to help, because Itachi had already picked up his wet coat from the ground as he slowly walked away from the car.

How he hated Suna, how he hated being the rookie.

---

-Ino Yamanaka is the owner of the car.

-Any other DNA evidence proving her connection to the Chevrolet?

-It had been in the water for days, the existing evidence deteriorated along with it. The only thing we have to help us is the evidence you collected earlier and the owner's name.

-Did you check the whole car?

-Everything: seats, steering wheel, gear stick, hood, trunk, dashboard, and glove compartment. The papers that were there were destroyed by the water. Itachi. The gray computer revealed the young woman's name on its bright screen, which was closely observed by the three police officers in charge of the case.

And Neji, well, they had just put him in charge of organizing the files in the cabinets. The brusqueness with which he piled one file on top of another showed his annoyance at having to obey Itachi's orders. The stapler being pressed fiercely to join one sheet to another made a loud, thumping noise in the office, accompanying the voices of the –professionals.–

A bunch of clowns, in Neji's words.

–Do you want me to contact her to ask about her car?– Hidan muttered as he typed softly on the computer, his eyes so focused on the letters that he paid no attention to the young brown-haired man who was violently arranging the folders in front of him.

–Maybe you can go with Dei to question her at her home.

–What? You want me to go to Konoha?– Deidara pulled the smoking cigarette from his thin lips, grimacing in pure annoyance. –I hate that place. It smells like shit, and there are idiots smiling all day long.–

–...I can go.– The words came out of his mouth automatically, earning him a disapproving look from Deidara. –I live there, I could find...–

–Don't you have anywhere else to stick your damn head, rookie?– Neji's hands crumpled the papers he was holding. He bit the inside of his cheeks hard to stop himself from saying anything else.

Because as much as he wanted to tell that trio of idiots to go to hell, he had to stay there for Hinata's sake.

No one spoke for the next five minutes, each wrapped up in their own task: Hidan skillfully writing a new report that he would probably have to organize later, Deidara oblivious to it all, exhaling his cigarette as a way to calm the headache that would give him a few hours later from so much analysis, and Neji organizing the prudent records in each folder, although his eyebrows were still furrowed with anger.

However, Itachi remained calm as he watched the machine's screen. His fingers slid over to pick up his phone from Hidan's desk, turning it on just to check the time.

–If you're not going, Deidara,– he said, turning his gaze to the black-haired man. He put his cell phone in his pocket and headed for the exit. –I'll go with Neji.–

–What? Fuck you, Itachi. Are you seriously going with him? You know, I'm starting to think you're paying too much attention to the rookie.–

–We already talked about that,– replied the raven-haired man, his eyes looking directly at Neji, who didn't hesitate for a moment to put down his folders and walk after him. –If I'm paying attention to him, it's because he's here to learn. I doubt he'll learn anything while he's organizing your files of unsolved cases and unidentified corpses.–

They left before Deidara could even say anything to them. He had barely closed the door when he heard a metallic clang against it. Deidara had probably thrown the lighter he used to light his cigarette at them.

–You'd better be grateful,– Itach said, –and help with this.–

His fists clenched, his jaw tightened. For a moment, he wanted to send it all to hell, go back to Konoha, forget about that office full of hyenas. But then, like a cruel echo, he remembered Hinata's hand squeezing his that day in the church, the same hand he would never feel again.

He nodded firmly.

–I will, sir.–

---

 What he knows about Ino is little, really, he only knows about her from the conversation Kiba had.

He had created an image of her in his mind: a pretty girl who loves parties and sleeping with boys just for fun. And now that he saw her in his own living room, his suspicions were confirmed.

He couldn't deny it, she was a beautiful girl, her long hair tied back in a ponytail contrasting with her white jeans that highlighted her figure. He could understand why Naruto was casually flirting with her.

Since they arrived, Neji had been ignored; the girl couldn't stop looking at his friend with a glint of desire in her eyes. He wasn't stupid; her hands as she handed him that cup of tea, subtly caressing his arms, and the strangely affectionate voice she used when speaking to him made it obvious.

He knew she was adjusting her blouse on purpose to show off her cleavage, a technique Hinata used to do when she wanted to get intimate with Kiba and he was around. He didn't mind the girl; after all, she was just a woman who wanted to get intimate with anyone.

What bothered him was that Itachi let her.

He accepted every gesture, continued the banal conversations that Ino started, and even smiled at her when he heard her laugh shamelessly at a corny joke.

The cup of chamomile tea resting in his hands was surely cold, his gray eyes had not stopped silently watching the way the two interacted. Not at all like the cruel man who had reproached her for her lack of responsibility that morning.

They didn't ask a single question, not about the rusted-out Chevrolet in the swamp, nor about her cousin.

The girl got up from her seat for the third time, –accidentally– brushing against Itachi's bent legs on the sofa, and left, promising to bring them cookies.

–And you don't plan on working?– Neji spat, placing the porcelain he had been cradling suspiciously on the glass table. –Or are you going to keep flirting?–

The small nasal laugh Itachi gave before taking a sip of his tea made his blood boil even more.

–I'm just being kind, young Hyuga. Do you know how to be kind? You haven't stopped looking down on the young woman, as if she smells bad.

–You're the one who smells awful. Didn't it occur to you to take a shower to wash off that rotten smell from the forest?–

–The young lady doesn't seem to be complaining.

–Why are you so interested in the young lady?

–And why are you so interested in what I do or don't do, young Hyuga?

His eyes sought hers, another battle of stares that he was not willing to lose again. His lips pressed together, trying not to say anything else, but we're talking about Neji Hyuga here, he can't keep quiet for even a moment.

-Because he's not doing his job.

–My job is to come here and question Miss Ino. Isn't that what you're doing?–

–Of course not, I haven't heard you ask her about her car.– Under Itachi's expectant gaze, Neji snatched the little notebook from his hands. –And if you don't intend to do it, I will.–

He ended the conversation when the woman with the floral scent returned with a plate of sugary heart-shaped cookies.

–Miss Yamanaka,– Neji began, clearing his throat. Ino looked at him, but not in the same way she looked at the raven-haired man. In fact, she seemed annoyed by his intervention after 20 minutes with Itachi. –We need to ask you several questions.–

Ino took a cookie, played with it for a moment, brushing it lightly with her lips before putting it in her mouth, while watching Itachi, who returned her typical penetrating gaze.

The discomfort was reaching the young investigator's limits, so he just coughed discreetly to continue.

–Miss Yamanaka,– he repeated firmly, ignoring the flash of annoyance in the blonde's eyes. –We need to ask you several questions.–

–All right...– The brown-haired man smiled triumphantly at her response, but as soon as he was ready to read the first question, he was interrupted again by the blonde woman. –But I want it to be alone, with Officer Uchiha.–

–...I don't think that's possible, Miss Yamanaka. We're an investigation team, you can trust me too.–

–I want him to ask me whatever you want to know. I refuse to talk to you about it.–

–But—–

–If not, I won't answer anything, and you can leave my house.–

The determined tone of her voice caused nothing more than a slight twitch in his eye. Did they really have to follow her rules? He glanced quickly at the raven-haired man, who, noticing his gaze, simply shrugged his shoulders, not knowing whether it was a gesture of mockery or resignation.

But it filled his stomach with rage. Too many humiliations for one day.

She slammed the notebook down on the sofa, got up from her seat, and as she passed in front of Itachi, she couldn't help but hit his hand suspiciously when she saw him take one of those ridiculous cookies, causing it to end up on the floor at the same time she slammed the door as she left the woman's house.

Outside, the cold hit her face hard, but that was better; her cheeks, red with anger and shame, would cool down faster.

---

It was exactly 12 minutes inside. How did he know? He turned his cell phone off and on every minute with camouflaged desperation. When he heard the door, he couldn't help but turn around quickly, but as soon as he heard the car door lock, he returned to his seat as if nothing had happened, clenching his mouth tightly, trying not to say a word for the rest of the way.

He still had enough work to do to return to Suna, so he didn't resist being taken back to the apartment. The tables had turned; now it was Neji who didn't want to talk. He stood with his arms crossed, as stiff as a corpse, his gaze fixed on his own reflection in the window.

The car suffered another slam from Neji, who, without waiting for the raven-haired man, went into his office, ready to do what he had failed to do that afternoon.

It was surely past 6 p.m., as the spaces corresponding to the two remaining officers were empty and smelled of lavender cleaner from their recent cleaning. Itachi entered his usual office minutes later, without addressing the young man with furrowed brows who was arranging piles of folders.

The black folders were neatly arranged on Deidara's desk, with some papers left out due to lack of records, the white ones in the cabinets behind the space of the man who used to wear a crucifix around his neck, and the navy blue ones in the old cabinets in the corner, which would end up being thrown away in some vault due to the ambiguity of the cases.

His cell phone vibrated as soon as he closed the metal drawer. He thought it was Rock Lee asking if he had eaten yet that day, maybe Ten Ten wishing him good night, even his aunt, praying for his health and a speedy reunion with Hinata.

But no, it was none of them.

Officer Hyuga: Come to my office, I need help with some paperwork.

She had barely finished reading when she let out a loud snort.

When did she become the secretary?

He carefully picked up the last folders from his desk, the ones that belonged to that arrogant guy behind the door, and made his way carefully so as not to trip over his own feet. He didn't even announce himself, he just walked in, fed up with that routine of courtesy.

He wasn't there, probably in that secret bathroom that Hidan told him about but doesn't mention so he doesn't have to share it with them. Knowing he wasn't there lifted a weight of discomfort from his shoulders. He dropped the folders on his desk as if they were stones, and accidentally, his fingers bumped into the little notebook that collected the answers from all his suspects.

He was intrigued; he had no idea what the blonde's answers were. Did she know something about Hinata? What was that evidence Itachi found in her car? Why was her car almost sunk in Suna when she was from Konoha?

His fingers slid carefully across the cold wood of the desk, picking up the little notebook, and he gently turned the yellowed pages in search of the name Ino Yamanaka.

As soon as he saw the name written in large letters, a gasp caught in his throat.

Nothing.

The page intended for her answers was completely blank.

–Haven't you been told that it's wrong to take things without permission?– Itachi's voice echoed in his ears, but this time he didn't feel the same fear.

Now he was furious.

–Why is this blank?

–Excuse me?–

–Not a single fucking letter.– In an unexpected move, he slammed the notebook against the newly arranged folders and didn't hesitate to confront him at that moment. He walked quickly toward him, without taking his eyes off those black irises that looked at him carelessly. –Why the hell did you go lock yourself in with Ino then?

–Miss Yamanaka said too much information to write down there.–

–You want me to believe your stupid excuses?–

–Since when do I have to explain myself to you?–

–Is that your answer? I bet you spent the whole time talking about your ridiculous cookies.– The space between them began to shrink, Neji maintaining his threatening air, while Itachi's brow began to furrow, probably in annoyance.

–Why are you so upset, Hyuga? Did it bother you that I didn't give you cookies?–

–I don't give a damn about your damn cookies!– His hands grabbed Itachi's usual friend, who instinctively brought his hands to his opponent's wrists. –I'm not going to let us lose track of my cousin's murder because of your damn horniness.–

–Oh, really? And what are you going to do? Arrest the suspects like you were going to do with that boy?– The mockery only increased the anger on Neji's already contorted face. Itachi brought him dangerously close to his face, flashing a discreet, defiant smile. –You're just a rookie, Hyuga.–

And that was the last thing Itachi could say before Neji's lips crashed forcefully against his.

They moved violently, without a hint of affection, and the older boy's response was immediate. They began the frantic struggle they always used to have, but now in a different way.

Their noses collided with the force of the passionate kiss, Neji's hands clung even tighter to his coat, as if he wanted to rip it off, their nasal breaths mingled, their eyes were tightly closed, just enjoying the sensation.

Itachi stopped holding his wrists, one of his hands moving to the back of his neck, tangling his hair in it and pulling hard, causing a small gasp to escape from the younger man's lips.

His left hand didn't stay still, wrapping tightly around Neji's waist and pulling him even closer to his body, rubbing both bodies together forcefully.

This time there was no winner; while Itachi shamelessly invaded the brown-haired boy's mouth with his tongue, Neji bit his lips angrily whenever he had the chance.

The combination of butter cookies and chamomile tea tasted so damn good.

Neji took clumsy steps backward due to the lack of balance he was beginning to feel from those thousands of emotions, ending up bumping into Itachi's neat desk, who didn't hesitate to push him with his own body to lay him down on it.

The folders he had so carefully prepared that afternoon ended up scattered across the carpet along with his black ink, and he didn't give a damn.

In fact, he couldn't think straight as Itachi left his mouth and moved on to bite and lick his neck desperately. His chest rose and fell heavily, while nothing but gasps and grunts escaped from his mouth due to the aggressive treatment.

He truly hated that guy, hated his taunts, his humiliations, and his deplorable treatment, and what he hated most was that terrible urge to devour him whole in the darkness of his office.

Chapter Text

–Itachi...– It was the only thing Neji's lips could utter. The way the older man gripped his thighs violently was driving him crazy; he imagined how terribly his fingers would mark his skin.

He offered almost no resistance, his head clouded by the sea of sensations coursing through his body. He nibbled his neck with such desire that he couldn't tell if the liquid dripping down it was his own blood or the culprit's saliva.

He desperately slid his coat down to reveal the white shirt, splattered with what was probably water from the swamp, but even that didn't matter to him. His trembling fingers clung tightly to his raven hair, roughly lifting his face and eliciting a growl of complaint from Itachi.

It was then that he attacked her lips again, moving in time, like two perfect pieces of a puzzle, but without ceasing to be intense. Neji could barely breathe because his companion had no intention of leaving his lips. He began to grind both their intimacies, causing only gasps that the brown-haired man did not intend to hide. After all, it was just the two of them.

The friction increased with each beat of their lips, his hands trembling as they ran over Itachi's strong arms, which seemed unwilling to leave the space between his hips. He was determined to continue until the end, until climax. For that night, he was willing to forget the humiliation, the tears, and the frustration.

However, the vibration of his phone accompanied by the ringing sound fell like a bucket of cold water. His eyes opened slowly. The man on top of him didn't seem to care about the constant ringing and continued with his desperate kisses, but Neji seemed to have regained his modesty.

The bite he gave on the taller man's lips was strong enough to cause a small wound, causing the taller man to gasp. He pulled away slightly, and Neji took advantage of the moment to push him off him and get up from the desk. His legs had turned to jelly, as every step he took could cause him to stumble among the folders he had so carefully prepared earlier with , but even that didn't stop him from quickly making his way to the office door.

–Good evening, Officer.– His breathing was still uneven, and even the hoarseness in his voice betrayed how upset he was by the caresses that still burned on his skin. For a few milliseconds, he stood still, watching the major recover from the moment, a little thick red liquid spilling from his lips as his mouth twisted into an adrenaline-fueled smile. But when he noticed the major's intention to approach him once more, he had no choice but to slam the door to stop the encounter.

Neji went into an automatic trance.

He walked with tingling legs to his desk, the silver keys ended up in his pocket, and he slung his backpack over his shoulder. His long hair passed through his fingers, tied in a messy ponytail, and he clutched the unsorted folders he would take home to sort through carefully.

But his mind was elsewhere; where Itachi had not yielded to his refusal and had him pinned against his desk, lashing out at him.

He was tempted with every step he took toward the exit door. Tempted to throw his things down, to relieve the constant throbbing he felt in his lower body, to turn around and end this encounter.

Unfortunately, as his fingers slowly slid his backpack off his shoulder to heed his carnal instincts, his phone rang again. Like a cruel reminder of his purpose in that hostile department.

He carefully slid his hand down his pants, ignoring the growing erection his boss had given him, staring at the bright screen that wouldn't stop vibrating.

Wow, this night was full of surprises.

His finger fumbled between which path to choose, the bright red button reminding him of the blood spilling from Itachi's bitten lip, and the opposite one would lead him to a conversation that was probably not in his interest at that moment.

But even though her brain and body were merging into a single burning flame, it was better to focus on what really mattered at that moment.

–Hello?– His voice was barely audible, almost invisible. He felt small, naked after the thousands of sensations that still lived in his body. For the first time in a long time, insecurity washed over him, fear of being discovered. –What's wrong?–

–Neji... brother, how are you?– Hearing him again made him feel nostalgic. The terrible darkness that flooded his heart after the loss of Hinata clouded his vision so much that he was about to forget the other people who had given so much meaning to his life, including him.

–Rock Lee?–

–Yes, that's me,– came the nasal laugh over the phone, which brought nothing more than a slight smile to Neji's face. –Are you still in Suna?–

–I was about to go home, although I don't know if I can still get transportation.–

–Oh no! Actually, that's why I'm calling.

–Yes?–

–I'm outside the police station. I'll wait for you.–

The beep on the other end of the line signaled the end of that unexpected call. He would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised, especially by his brilliant friend's visit to the dark streets of Suna.

The loud sound of the door opening reminded him that he wasn't alone in those offices, and if he didn't hurry, he would have to face his base desires again. He allowed himself no more questions, no more calculated decisions, he just rushed out into the cold night.

His gray irises wandered through the damp streets of the dirty neighborhood, but he did not encounter the enormous black orbs that so often flashed a feared motivation for life itself.

Two, three, four more steps froze his fingers, but they were enough to spot the jet black car, recently painted a horrible purple, its gold rims surely dazzling in the intense city sun, the black flashes lost among each reflection. He had never seen Rock Lee drive a car in all the time he had known him, so his surprise at seeing him leaning on the leather steering wheel was justified.

The little knocks he made with his knuckles caught his friend's attention, who wasted no time in giving him that smile that, to a certain extent, caused a little warmth in the depths of his already broken heart. Rock Lee's big eyes told him to get in next to him, which he did without hesitation. The cold metal of the door sent shivers through his warm hands, and as he got into the car, his nose was assaulted by the bitter smell of the wood on the dashboard of that old clunker.

As soon as he closed the door, he fixed his eyes on his friend. He had always thought of him as a walking portrait, and now he was reaffirming that belief: his large irises looked at him with a brilliant intensity that made him feel more than a little flutter in his stomach. His black hair was tousled with every sudden movement, and his sweaty appearance was surely due to his recent workouts at the gym he loved so much. The veins in his hands stood out with every unconscious squeeze of the steering wheel, and his clothes, as green as the fake grass in his neighborhood, were a must.

No matter how many days passed, it could be three months ago, yesterday, today, or two years from now, but Rock Lee would always be the same, which eased his heavy soul burdened by so many blows from his miserable life.

They were always polar opposites, the sun and the moon, morning and night, joy and pain, but they always understood each other without even needing words. It only took a few seconds of looking at each other for them to understand what they wanted; Rock Lee's lips curved into a compassionate smile, Neji slowly returned the gesture before settling into his seat and listening to the loud roar of the engine, which signaled the escape to his own city.

---

-Do you like it?

–I hate rice.–

–It's a good carbohydrate, eat it all, Neji.– He picked at the small white seeds with his fork before taking another bite. The Mustang didn't get very far. As soon as Rock Lee spotted the entrance to Konoha, he decided to park in a small valley at the entrance to the city. The flashing lights of the buildings in the area reminded him of the fireflies he and Hinata loved to watch when autumn came.

–Please eat.– Neji cradled the plastic container Lee gave him in his hands as soon as he turned off the engine. It wasn't cold, but the fish melted in his mouth with the melted butter. Rock Lee had no intention of stopping watching him, because he knew that if he did, the food would still be there.

–Whose car is this?–

–Why?–

–Mr. Guy doesn't know how to drive, and no one else I know has a car.–

–My brother-in-law lent it to me.– The soft skin of the fish remained between his teeth for a few seconds, seconds in which a jumble passed through his stomach. –Gaara's brother.–

–I see.–

-He lent it to me on the condition that I return to Konoha today.

–It seems his family doesn't like you very much.

–They're a bit reserved, but I'll win them over in time.– He took a long sip from his water bottle. Neji watched as the liquid eagerly passed through his throat, until the raven-haired man passed him the bottle, from which he took just one sip. –Ten Ten told me that you two broke up.–

–Is that why you came looking for me?–

–No, I care about you, Neji, and so does she.–

–Really?–

–Of course! You're my best friends.– His hands barely squeezed the water bottle, while his eyes remained on the half-eaten rice resting on his knees. –I love you.–

–And I love you.–

–I've been going to your house to look for you, but you're never there.–

–I don't like being there anymore.–

–Then where are you? Where do you sleep?–

–Everywhere. I don't sleep anymore.–

–Why?– He hesitated to speak, but the deep concern he saw in his friend's eyes seemed to strip him bare inside. The rice remained on the board, the water bottle between his feet, and his eyes fixed on Lee.

–...It hurts to sleep,– his voice sounded like a quiet whisper, but as soon as Rock Lee paid attention to the brown-haired boy, he could see the small tears welling up in his eyes. The raven-haired boy bit the inside of his lip, carefully placing his hand on the smaller boy's back, a gesture that caused a barely visible tear to roll down his cheek. –When I close my eyes, she's there.– A deeper silence enveloped the interior of the car. Rock Lee remained motionless, only able to listen. –And when I wake up, she's gone, never to return.– 

It was enough.

Enough to break through the barrier Neji had put between them, enough for Rock Lee to tighten his grip and wrap his large arms around his body, to kiss his head affectionately, while the other clung tightly to his arms and continued to sob silently.

The city lights reminded him of the fireflies he used to see with Hinata, and the tears falling like rain on Rock Lee's shirt reminded him that this time he would see them alone.

He had spent so many nights drowning in his own tears that he couldn't imagine anyone else matching his suffering. The kisses Rock Lee left on his head were strong, matched by the hug that never let up. His body began to shake, and he realized he wasn't the only one who was hurting.

Rock Lee was also crying, crying because he saw him broken, because he felt him breaking in his arms. He cried because he couldn't bear to see his friend carry so much pain alone.

They never needed many words to understand each other, and tears were never enough to love each other.

---

Since Hinata is gone, everything has changed.

Meals always taste the same, salty and bland. Walking around Konoha is like seeing the same paintings in the same museum over and over again. Going out with friends is like being among strangers who have seen you fall in the street, only looks of pity, unable to look you in the eye because of your own pain.

The breeze brushing against your body hurts, the raindrops sliding down your arms hurt, the cold seeping into your bones hurts. It hurts because you know she will never feel it again.

Now that Neji was there, reclining in that seat and gazing at the city lights, his mind kept wandering.

What happened in the end?

Did she also cry until her eyes swelled up? Did she get into that car alone? Did she try to run away?

Did she think of me?

The fingers that lovingly brushed the strands of her hair prevented her from crying again like the other empty nights, because all she had to do was lift her head a little to find the raven-haired man who caressed her without saying a word, but conveying everything she needed.

Someone.

He didn't turn on his cell phone while he was with Rock Lee. His friend's cell phone hadn't stopped ringing since midnight, but he was grateful inside that he never answered it. He bet it was 2 a.m., and if not, he bet too much time had passed because of his numb legs and red nose from the early morning cold.

And although he was in mourning again that night, he felt a glimmer of peace deep down.

–...Neji.– His throat sounded dry, probably from not speaking for hours or from the cold itself.

He stopped looking at the lights through the windshield to focus solely on his friend. Rock Lee, on the other hand, took a deep breath, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes barely open due to sleepiness.

–There's something I need to tell you.– He knew Lee too well, and the way they played with each other only showed how worried he was at that moment. He paid little attention to the fact that his own hands were already tingling from the position he was in, and he reached out with his left hand to give the other a firm squeeze, trying to reassure him.

–What happened? Is it because of that stupid redhead?–

–No, it's about Hinata.–

His eyes, about to close from exhaustion, opened in surprise, and he slowly sat up in his seat, giving Lee his full attention.

–What about her?–

–Sometimes I... I miss her.–

–Me too, Lee.–

–When I found out she disappeared...– Lee's hand began to tense under his, and he couldn't even look Neji in the eye. –It was so strange... We were always together, Ten Ten, Kiba, Hinata, you and me, and suddenly...– This! He noticed Lee biting his lip, probably trying not to cry again. Maybe we weren't as close as you and her, but it's impossible not to think about her. Her laughter is missing in class, her floral perfume is missing on outings, even at parties when she kissed Kiba on every sofa!

When he heard Rock Lee's broken voice, Neji realized that he wasn't the only one who noticed her absence.

The crying prevented his friend from continuing, but he knew he wanted to say more. He didn't care how uncomfortable it might be, or that physical contact was never his strong suit; slowly, his arms ended up wrapping around his body, feeling the other clinging tightly to him for support.

–...That's why I'm sorry,– he continued moments later, when his sobs allowed him to speak. –I'm sorry for not being there for you, for not being there from day one. I don't want to justify myself. I'm sorry for just calling or texting you. It was painful for me to see you... to see you without her. I love you, Neji. You're very important to me. I don' t want to make broken promises, but I'll always be there for you. I was there in the good times, and I'll be there in the bad times, like now.

And for the first time in a long time, Neji allowed himself to smile, to smile for what he has.

He caressed Rock Lee's cheek affectionately before planting a sweet kiss on it. He said no more, but the raven-haired boy knew he had heard him.

That he understood.

Now it was Neji who played with his hair, who showed him with his hands that he was there. Lee tried to control his tears, which were wiped away with the fabric of his shirt.

Perhaps a few seconds passed, perhaps minutes, but as long as they both felt understood, they didn't care about time.

–When was the last time you saw her?– Rock Lee encouraged him to ask, his hands clinging tightly to his back, camouflaging the fear he felt at the separation itself.

–...At Naruto's concert,– Neji replied in a whisper, his long hair falling over Rock Lee's face, but he didn't care. –Before she left, and I left, we promised to meet at the bar.

–Do you remember the last thing she said to you?– The question must have struck a chord with Neji, who stifled a small gasp and let go of his hair for a moment.

–She told me to bring her sweater,– the thread of his voice betraying how painful it was, despite being something so mundane. –She always suffered from the cold. If it wasn't my sweatshirts, it was Kiba's, and if not... Naruto's. But that day he was so... so beautiful.– The tears seemed to burn as they followed the same path over and over again down his cheeks, but even so, he couldn't help it. –I don't know why, she didn't want to tell me, and he refused to take her sweater because it would ruin her style. She promised me she would wear it after the concert, but... I couldn't find her anymore.

–...He wasn't cold.

-Why?

–I saw her one last time too,– his grip tightened, as if he  didn't want  Neji  to leave. –I saw her in District 8.–

–District 8?– Neji's expression was incredulous.

The last hours he spent with Hinata repeated mercilessly in a loop in his head, and he was sure she never mentioned she would go there.

The tug Rock Lee felt was strong enough to pull him away from that embrace, and from his friend's furrowed brow, he knew there were things about that night that he didn't know.

–I saw her there, I wouldn't joke about that Neji, you know that.–

–Tell me... tell me everything, Lee.–

---

Tempo

Memories always live on in portraits and photos framed on a wall. Over time, they will gather dust and spiders will take over, spinning their webs on them.

There's nothing more to be done about the past; it's better to work on the future. What matters in the future?

He has known since he was very young: money, his family, health.

These are the three pillars that support his entire world. His nostrils are blessed only with the smell of caffeine and the calmness that comes from knowing that his little brother is well, that Italy awaits him with open arms, and that his job keeps him busy 24 hours a day.

It's impossible to stay in front of the computer as much as he can, deciphering new clues or examining corpses in old hotels. But the voices of what those empty shells once were can keep him awake for a night or two.

Worrying about people outside his circle was a habit, that piece of the puzzle that no one cares about as long as everything else fits perfectly. It was so easy for him to gain the trust of his clients as if they really meant something to him, but if those poor pawns were taken off the board, he wouldn't care at all, as long as there was remuneration involved.

Well, his little brother didn't feed on other people's regrets.

Letto

Dreams and nightmares fought each other, but neither ever won. Surrendering to Morpheus was just a figure of speech; the bags under his eyes proved it. Being good enough at something didn't mean peace, as mediocre universities would have you believe. Carrying the weight of 10 missing souls at once was not easy, even for him. That's why he locked them away in a corner of his room while the sleeping pill took effect.

He was egalitarian; neither the living nor the dead meant enough to hook the great Itachi Uchiha.

Chiave

The rusty lock of his own desires had been closed for more than 10 years. He understood that the weaker one always loses everything because of his own selfishness, that ambition makes you forget the eyes of those who reached out to you first, your friends, your family. Was it really worth it? Of course not, it was never an option.

Desiring someone for himself remained locked behind silver chains. That's how he became strong, that's how Itachi won.

By ceasing to desire, by ceasing to love.

Specchio

Every soul that inhabits this filthy earth is different, rotten with selfishness, burning alive with injustice, and collapsing under the pile of eternal work to survive. Dark irises, chocolate, sky, each and every one he has encountered reflects the misery of dreaming without reward, just machines on automatic mode, and that... pleases him.

The less desire to wake up another day, to desire the possessions of others, to hate one's neighbor, the more work for him.

But... what about Neji Hyuga?

Abyss

Clear, hurt, scared.

The very image of a deer about to be bitten.

The feeling of loneliness is grimly strong, even he can't handle it.

The guinea pigs? The living image of dying because they have no one with them.

Humans are no different; the Christmas season is when the most deaths are recorded in their office.

Because they only think about their own feelings, because they don't feel the company of those who once were.

And so, why does he, who has lost everything, continue to fight?

Intriguingly, he does not wince when he sees the photos of the corpse, he does not think about walking away from the case.

His steps are guided by a path called anger.

Empty

He looked at him from a distance, greatly appreciating the oil paints that formed his face contoured by pain. Beautiful, fragile, the perfect mixture of misery and intense love, love directed exclusively at an empty shell subjected to a thousand autopsies.

And in every scene, it was only him, between the cream-colored walls of his home, in his free time between classes, on the rusty bus he waited for after finishing organizing his files, at the supermarket, in his office.

Him, him, only him.

As if his body were filled with repellent that drives away any living soul, yet if you barely brush against his body, you can smell the delicious aroma of vulnerability and cinnamon mixed together.

The loneliness that is destroying him is what causes his recent fascination.

Almost bordering on obsession.

That's why he's now become his shadow, even though Neji never looks back over his shoulder.

And while being alone was his only truth, who dared to cross that wall?

Who was that guy who opened the doors of his Mustang for him? Why did they park on the outskirts of Konoha? Why did they stay there even as night fell?

Why are they... so close?

dolce carne umana

Addiction is an escape from the real world to a desired reality. For Sasuke, it was always tomatoes; for his beloved uncle Jiraiya, it was always words written in ink on tapiro leaves. What else is there?

Tobacco, drugs, alcoholic beverages... dopamine surges through his body at the mere mention of the word.

But they are all wrong, as they always are.

Those lost souls have never tasted a good piece of meat.

Not just anyone, even he declares himself deluded for not having tasted it before.

As soon as his lips touched those moist, fleshy edges, he swore he had touched heaven with his fingertips.

Being able to go down to her neck, his hands reveling in the pure pleasure of touching her hips, even making him taste his own blood... Neji is the answer.

Neji Hyuga is true lust incarnate.

And now that he had tasted his skin, he would not give anyone else the pleasure of doing so.

It was only a matter of time before he would drag his young Hyuga down with him.

To heaven

or all'inferno

---

8:27

It was barely 20 minutes after he woke up, and he hadn't wasted a single second getting there.

His clothes were the same, and he was even embarrassed that there were visible traces of what had happened in his boss's dark office. But doubt got the better of him, and his embarrassment gradually faded away.

He wasn't the only one in that situation; Rock Lee was too. The previous morning, he had refused to leave him alone in his painful home, and had to agree to sleep at his house. The sofa wasn't the most comfortable, and the cold penetrated the small blanket.

But he was no longer alone; Lee was there, and that calmed him significantly.

He took him back in his borrowed Mustang, and now he looked with disdain at the old neighborhood 8. The vivid image of Kiba, with whom he had had one of the most hurtful conversations just a few weeks ago, ran through his mind, and for that very reason, his heart was crushed by the possible betrayal that all those confessions were just false promises.

–Here,– Lee dared to say, earning the gaze of the brown-haired man who never took his eyes off him. He was a few blocks away from the large pole covered with job and lost pet posters.

And his greatest fear, at the other end, was the Inuzuka residence.

The shock he felt at this detail made him hold onto the pole, terrified and annoyed.

But this was not the time to unmask villains; it was time to learn the truth.

–Control yourself, Hyuga, we don't want any distractions now,– Itachi pointed out, not even looking at him, but at Hidan as his camera captured every part of that small stretch.

He didn't let go of the large tube because of him, but because of his friend's large eyes that looked at him with concern.

–Continue... please, Lee.– The latter hesitated, Itachi's slanted eyes making him tense, too dangerous, but he would have to give in. For Neji.

–...Okay,– he whispered, clearing his throat a little before looking at some houses behind the familiar one. –That house over there belongs to Shino, an old friend. That night I came to pick up some protein bottles he promised me.–

–Why did you come at night?– Itachi interrupted, staring at the house.

–Actually, I didn't come at night, I came in the afternoon, but I stayed talking to him until my boyfriend called me to ask if I was coming to the bar. It's not that far, actually, less than a 15-minute walk.

–Go on.–

–Well...– He swallowed, now looking not at the house but at his friend, who seemed to be trying to figure out the situation. –When I left and was on my way there, I ran into her.– His foot tapped lightly on the ground. –Right here.–

–Did she see you?–

–Of course! I said hello to her, she said hello to me. She told me he was going to pick up some things at Mrs. Kurenai's house and then go to the bar.–

Neji's face changed instantly, looking up at his friend.

–That can't be,– the brown-haired man stammered. –Mrs. Kurenai moved out of District 8 months ago.–

–I... I didn't know that. I don't know that lady, Neji.–

The turmoil he hadn't felt in his stomach for hours returned, now stronger, more painful. Hinata knew he was no longer in the old flowered house; she herself had helped her move her things and forced Neji to help her, then.

Why did she lie?

–I...– Lee continued, in a more subdued tone than he normally had day to day, –I offered to accompany her, it was too late for her to walk alone on the street, but she... refused.– His fingers played with each other as he spoke.

And Itachi noticed with annoyance the guilt reflected in his eyes.

–I don't know why. I insisted many times, but I didn't want to make her uncomfortable, so I just... left.–

–Lee...–

–Forgive me,– was all he said before Neji went over to him and hugged him. He didn't care about the photos Hidan was insistently taking, nor how bad it might look now that Rock Lee already had a partner.

Nor did he care about his boss's bloodshot eyes.

He just wanted to comfort him, ease his guilt-ridden heart, and show his affection.

–No, no, Lee, it's not your fault,– he whispered to his friend, hoping he would hear him through his sobs. –Nothing that happened is your fault. Hinata lied, but thanks to you, we'll find out what really happened.

–Aren't you mad at me?–

–No, I'm not. I believe you. I know you're telling the truth.–

–That's what you said about young Inuzuka, and maybe he lied to you too,– Itachi snapped after him, not caring that he was interrupting the moment between the two friends.

–Officer Uchiha, could you...–

–What? You want me to leave them alone? This is no time for cheap consolation. We're here for an investigation, so let's get on with it.– He rummaged through his pocket until he found that small piece of cloth, which he carelessly threw at the black-haired man, who wiped his wet cheeks with it. –How can we believe him?

–What are you talking about? Rock Lee would be incapable of lying about something like that.–

–This is the second time, Hyuga. A third time and you can kiss the case goodbye.– It was enough to see Hidan shrug his shoulders to know that the threat was real, and with all the anger inside him, he just clenched his fists.

–Well... I don't know.–

–This is just a statement without evidence. It could be that you're lying, and in that case, you could go to jail, you know?–

–I know! Everything I'm saying is true.–

–If you'll excuse me, Officer Uchiha, why do you doubt Rock Lee's word so much when you accepted Miss Yamanaka's?

No matter what threats were made against him, Neji would always be a loose cannon.

–Young Hyuga...–

–What? Am I not stating something objective?–

-Miss Yamanaka had proof.

–What kind, if I may ask? Her cookies? Her short skirt?–

–And how can you be sure this boy isn't lying? Doesn't his story sound a little strange? Do you really prefer to call Hinata a liar?– Neji took a deep breath, holding back the anger that was rising in his throat.

–Of course not, but Rock Lee is my friend. I know him.–

–Don't you know that the worst betrayal never comes from a stranger?–

–You can keep your old man sayings to yourself, Officer.–

Rock Lee watched the scene in confusion, but the tense atmosphere was felt not only between them, who had gradually moved closer as they exchanged verbal barbs. He scratched his neck uncomfortably, trying not to pay attention to them.

–Well then, tell me, Neji, what good does it do you to know that he was the last one to see her if you're not going to convict him?–

–It's District 8. More people live here. Maybe someone knows something.–

–So what? Are you going to go door to door asking if they know your cousin? I remind you that some of these people know how to lie very well, just like your friend.

–I already told you that Rock Lee doesn't lie. He tells the truth. I know it.–

–So if they tell you that the tooth fairy is real, you believe that too?–

–Stop treating me like I'm stupid. You're the only childish one here.–

–Officer...– Hidan tried to get his attention by tapping him on the shoulder, but all he got was a slap in response.

–Unbelievable, first you call me old, and now you say I'm childish. We're working here, so stop with your ridiculous insults.–

–Working? You call your blatant distrust work? Tell me then, why do you think Rock Lee is lying?–

–I'm not saying he's lying, I'm just saying you trust him too much.–

–Because he's my best friend!– Itachi's eyes rolled at the annoyance of hearing his answer.

–And if your best friend tells you to jump into a stream, do you do it or what?–

The air became unbreathable, even Lee swallowed silently.

–For God's sake, there's a damn surveillance camera up there! We asked for the cameras, let's go to Suna, and stop fucking around!– Hidan yelled, annoyed by the situation.

That was the only way he managed to get both men to shut up, but it didn't stop them from glaring at each other competitively.

In this war, it seemed there would never be a winner.

---

Back in Suna.

But not in the chaotic police offices, nor in the alleys separating buildings from each other. Not even alone.

Rock Lee was still there, clenching his hand tightly as they watched the unfamiliar uniformed man typing intently on his computer.

It wasn't much different from the small rooms where he worked, and he even noticed Lee's slight shivers as he looked around at everything; so dark, cold, and terribly depressing. The only difference between this place and the apartment was the carnivorous plant decorating the police officer's desk.

The atmosphere was so heavy that any movement could break the silence that had settled since their arrival in the city. Itachi didn't take his eyes off the computer screen, and the black-haired man muttered a few things to himself every time he clicked on a new document.

Even his talkative friend remained silent, with only the sound of the fan behind them.

–Okay, I've got it,– the voice of the man in front of the computer caught the attention of everyone present. His chair turned slightly, revealing the words –monitoring unit– on his police shirt.

It was Itachi who took the first step, approaching the man directly without uncrossing his arms.

–Neighborhood 8?–

–North Crossing, in front of number 24, Zetsu.– A couple more clicks and a satisfied sound escaped his lips.

–The September and October recordings are ready, Uchiha.–

–I'm glad to know we have people as efficient and fast at their work as you, Zetsu.–

–I don't blame you, although it's partly because of my brother. He's in the Konoha surveillance unit, and he passed everything on to me in a second.–

Itachi now fixed his gaze on his companions, who seemed to understand what he wanted and wasted no time in approaching them. The monitor was divided into thousands of squares, each showing different moments of the day, some without a single person, cars crossing or dogs running, all accompanied by that greenish filter and static that made it difficult to perceive the colors of the video.

–This is your last chance, kid,– continued the raven-haired man, looking at Rock Lee with a coldness that made his skin crawl. –Day and time, now.–

He stammered for a moment, feeling his nerves rise to his fingertips, even his mind freezing for a moment, forgetting even why he was there.

He squeezed Neji's hand tightly, who, in a gesture of support, curved his lips into a smile.

–Do you remember, Rock Lee?–

–Not exactly... I just know it was the day of Naruto's concert, and it was around 6 o'clock.

–How do you remember the time and not the day?–

–Because of my boyfriend... he told me he would take a bus to Konoha at that time, and he called me right after I finished talking to Hinata.

Itachi's frown showed how little he trusted her statement, but Neji decided to interrupt the black-haired man.

–Saturday, October 17, 6:00 p.m., Officer Zetsu.–

Zetsu grimaced, completely disapproving of the well-known –rookie– giving him orders, but given the look Itachi gave him, it was better to obey.

He traveled from archive to archive.

October 14, October 15, October 16...

October 17, the mouse double-clicked, revealing more boxes.

10 a.m., 1 p.m., 4 p.m.

6 p.m.

The sound of the fan froze, his heart turned into a heavy stone in his chest.

His movements became automatic, he released his grip on Lee, took small steps forward, pushing Itachi aside.

There it was.

There was no sound on the cameras, the date and time at the top of the video flashed incessantly, but it didn't matter.

Only her, with her back to the camera, her long hair reaching her waist. She just knew, even though her face was not visible.

The satin skirt she bought at Christmas. Her fur coat that she bought with her last allowance.

The thousands of bracelets she used to wear everywhere.

And best of all, the person with her was the boy on her right.

Rock Lee had never lied. He really did see her for the last time in Barrio 8.

The air caught in her throat, and for a moment she forgot how to breathe. She forgot that she had seen him weeks earlier on a metal slab at the back of a police station. Tears fell without permission, her hands clenching her cheeks tightly.

He was there, his princess, his whole world, his reason for living...

-Hinata...

Chapter Text

 Just a moment.

A whole lifetime wasn't enough; I needed more, more time.

More seconds to see her smile, more minutes to hear her voice, more hours to hold her.

No, memories weren't enough. Memories dug into his back mercilessly, without permission. Invisible blood spilled from his hands, pure helplessness at his need for her, at wanting to flee from that ruthless reality.

His wide eyes were constantly darting across the screen, watching as if he were looking at a beautiful butterfly, afraid that it would fly away at the slightest movement, afraid that it would vanish in the blink of an eye.

His feet tingled with fury, dying to go to where that camera was, hoping that she was there, frozen, waiting for him, longing for him to arrive. Silencing with force the voices in his head that said she was no longer in this world.

Seeing her move again, talk and be herself was a blow of nostalgia to his broken heart, which night after night struggled to erase the cold his fingers felt when they touched her ridiculously cold cheek.

A corpse.

No, he didn't want to see it, he didn't want to see her eyes full of sweetness, the eyes that had witnessed thousands of adventures, bad times, pure joy.

He loved her so much that if he saw her face again, he would fall apart right there, no matter who saw him, no matter who judged him.

His fingertips brushed against the screen, the beautiful painting on Hinata's back was aesthetic, afraid that she would turn around, terrified of what he had already lost.

He tried to stroke her hair, take her hands where each bracelet she wore jingled, her bag.

But it was just a screen, just another witness to his downfall.

Click

Just pressing the button was his downfall.

She stopped being on pause, she kept talking to Lee.

But then it happened, she turned around.

Desperate, his hands moved across the screen trying to stop her.

To freeze the moment, contradict himself, and beg her to let him see her flushed cheeks, her smile, and her beautiful eyes.

The screams stuck in his throat, he forgot how to breathe. The feeling that he could touch her, that he could stop her, burned more than anything else.

But the fingers that intertwined with his hand woke him from his reverie.

And when he saw Itachi take his hands away from the screen, his gaze begged for mercy, for understanding.

Receiving only pity from him.

His body no longer asked for permission; he only realized he was crying when tears rolled down his cheeks, when he clung to his own body seeking protection.

As soon as he felt Lee's arms around him, he allowed himself to falter and hide in his body, crying.

For now, it was the only thing he could do.

There was no human being in that room capable of saying anything; not even Zetsu, who was watching Neji's grief with grotesque coldness. Only two things reigned in that place: the fan that never stopped working and the sobs that Neji tried to stifle in his friend's chest.

-...Give it back,- Itachi dared to murmur in the darkness, caring little about his assistant's recent decline.

The officer skillfully moved the mouse, giving the girl a few seconds in front of the camera.

Now not only Neji was watching her, but Itachi was too, though not in the same way. While the brown-haired man gazed longingly, the black-haired man analyzed.

Every feature, every gesture, every strand of hair. He scrutinized spaces, objects, and people.

All with a terrible apathy.

-...Something's wrong,- he pointed out, drawing the attention of only the man sitting in his swivel chair.

-What did you find after only two seconds?-

-The clothes.- From inside his long coat, the small notebook he used to carry everywhere appeared. He carefully flipped through the pages until he reached the beginning. He read it for a moment, then simply nodded his head, confirming his theory. Something is wrong.

-I think it looks fine.-

-The corpse wasn't wearing those clothes.-

-Her name is Hinata,- Rock Lee dared to say in a whisper as his nose dug into Neji's tousled hair, but he only received looks of disgust.

-She was calling, kid,- Zetsu corrected, turning his gaze back to the camera. -What clothes was she wearing?-

-Converse, dress, and jacket, same tied hair.-

-I'm not good at deducing things, but maybe we'll find something if we keep watching the camera.

-Why did the victim turn around?- Itachi pulled up another leather chair, joining his partner in reviewing the camera footage.

-Let's see,- Zetsu's neck moved a few inches closer. The long hours he spent in front of the computer should have caused him irreparable blindness, but it didn't seem to affect him at all. -When she's with this guy, they talk for at least five minutes, from what we've seen. He leaves, and then she turns at least 90 degrees.

-Enough to see that he left,- Itachi deduced, without missing a single detail of what was happening.

-Yes, she probably waited for him to leave before continuing on her way.

-How long does it take before she starts walking again?

Zetsu returned and fast-forwarded the video cameras, looking for answers to all of Itachi's questions, watching closely the flashing hours at the bottom of them.

-From 6:10 to 6:15.-

-6:15, got it.- The pencil scratching the graphite as he wrote in his notebook now accompanied Neji's sobs. -Then?-

-She turns around again and begins her journey.- He fell silent, his pupils trying to read the house number where she stopped. -Lot 24, Uchiha.-

-Did she go into the house?-

-Yes, she went into the house.

He could be devastated, he could wish to die. But he also wanted to know, he wanted the truth.

His grip on Lee tightened, but his sobs stopped. He looked up slightly, his voice coming out hoarser than normal.

-It's Kiba's residence.-

-Great deduction, young Neji.- He wrote quickly, without paying much attention, not knowing if it was a compliment or the product of his own sarcasm, but he didn't dare reply this time.

He was too broken to do so.

-Keep watching until someone comes out of that house, whether it's the young girl or someone else. Don't lose sight of it, Zetsu.- He didn't even get a response, but seeing Zetsu's eyes glued to the screen made it clear to him that he was doing what he asked.

He slowly turned to where the others were, watching with contained contempt as they embraced in what seemed like an endless hug, but he had no choice but to ignore it for the moment.

-I don't want to jump the gun,- he cleared his throat, capturing the attention of both boys who looked at him, although unlike Rock Lee, who showed pure sadness, Neji's eyes were different; empty, like a pair of shells without any reason. -But I have some theories.-

-Please, tell us,- Rock Lee spoke up, but the silence he received in return showed how unwelcome he was there.

-Young man... Lee, right? We greatly appreciate your support in this investigation, but this is a private investigation and does not include civilians who are not involved.-

-What? But I can help, I can—-

-Please leave here on your own accord.- Lee's arms tightly wrapped around Neji, who looked like nothing more than a sad rag doll with porcelain eyes fixed on Itachi.

-What will happen to Neji? I can't leave him like this.-

-The young Hyuga just had a relapse. He'll be fine in a few minutes.-

-No! I can't! He's in bad shape, he needs...-

-Rock Lee,- Neji whispered, his hands weakly caressing his cheeks, giving him a small kiss before letting go of his grip. -Go, please.-

-What?! Neji, I'm not leaving. I can't leave you here!- Lee looked directly into his eyes, but found nothing, nothing but a painful emptiness. -Besides, why are you talking about Hinata as if she were dead? She's not dead! She just disappeared, that's all! Tell them, Neji! You know it!-

The echo of his cries reverberated in Neji, the words that came from his friend's ignorance only served to demolish him. It provoked a thousand emotions: anger, sadness, and a sea of pain that he would carry until the end of his days.

He wasn't so strong now, he couldn't hit him, or even hug him as hard as he could. He just pushed him, weakly guiding him to the door, opening it with disdain and giving him a silent smile of support.

-I'll tell you everything when I'm done here,- Neji continued, slowly closing the metal door before Lee's confused eyes. -Please go, I'll come find you.-

And with that, he closed the door on his only support.

Protecting him from his own breakdown.

He pressed his ear against the door, and a few minutes passed before he heard footsteps receding. His heart was broken, but the relief of protecting him was still fresh in his chest. He kept his hands against the cold metal, immobile in the face of the truth that awaited him just by seeing his boss.

But when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

He turned his gaze to Itachi, giving the green light to whatever he was about to say.

-...As I was saying,- continued the taller man, looking exclusively at Neji, who kept his lips in a thin line, -The prime suspect may have had some kind of confrontation with her, which led him to get rid of her.

Silence again. Neji showed neither doubt nor certainty at his statement.

-...Maybe,- murmured the brown-haired man, surprising Itachi.

If it had been less than two hours ago, he would have been defending his supposed -friends- tooth and nail.

But apparently, little Hyuga was falling into his own abyss.

---

Time is so relative.

When you spend your days searching for and deciphering the truth that stabs you, it passes quickly. When you wait sitting against the cold metal of the door, hugging your legs and hiding your face between them, it passes slowly.

He could count the minutes he spent there by the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall, or by the sunlight passing outside the window.

It was noon, and they had been there for 30 minutes.

Waiting for someone to show up, for Hinata to come out. The idea of fast-forwarding the camera video was a bad one, as they could lose any clues.

His breathing rose and fell slowly as he tried to regulate his feelings, to get his feet back on the ground. But how could he do that? He had just seen Hinata.

Although he avoided looking at the photos in his gallery, the pictures in his house, or his own cell phone, he once again encountered the gaze that instantly disarmed him.

His head began to ache, an annoying twinge that came every time he tried to connect the dots: Hinata's arrival in District 8, the clothes, Kiba's visit. He was beginning to doubt everyone at that point. The sincerity with which Kiba proclaimed his love for his cousin, Lee's unconditional support, Itachi's work... to regain his own peace.

Until that moment, they were all enemies.

6:47 a.m., Hinata Hyuga leaves the house accompanied—it was a millisecond in which the name -Hinata- passed through his ears, his feet got a little stuck when he tried to get up, but he didn't care.

He quickly brought his face closer to the screen; indeed, Hinata had left the house, and the thorn in his side disappeared when he saw her with Kiba.

And indeed, she was now wearing the clothes he remembered seeing her in at the morgue.

He let out a big sigh as he let go of his doubts. It meant that Kiba wasn't responsible for her disappearance or her murder. He let her go, and the camera showed him watching her walk away from the doorway of his house.

The image was blurry, but Neji could swear he could feel the sadness and helplessness emanating from Kiba's gaze.

Zetsu paused the video camera for a moment, his red eyes betraying the long time he had spent watching every movement on the street. He turned his face to Itachi, who was dismissively crossing out the theory he had proposed minutes earlier.

-It seems that Kiba Inuzuka is not the killer, but what was the young Hyuga doing there, and why did she wait for the boy to leave before entering the house?

-I've got it,- Neji brought his hands to his neck, massaging it to relieve the terrible tension he felt after those agonizing minutes. -Kiba told me.-

-Go ahead, young Hyuga.-

-When I went to talk to Kiba,- Neji stared at his cousin, who stood still, about to start walking on the pavement, -he said that Hinata went to see him to say goodbye.-

-Say goodbye to what?-

-They had sex before Hinata formalized her relationship with Naruto.- Itachi paid special attention to Neji's statement, while his pencil quickly recorded everything he heard.

-Why did he have Hinata Hyuga's clothes at his house?-

-They had been dating for more than four years. We had Kiba's clothes at our house on the nights he stayed over, so Kiba probably also had Hinata's clothes when he spent the night at her house.-

Although Neji felt relieved to know that Kiba was not responsible for his cousin's death, he was now more confused than at the beginning. The cameras were the only solid evidence that represented a true sighting of Hinata at the time of her disappearance, but now, there was nothing else.

Itachi, who had recorded everything the brown-haired man said, put his notebook away again, stood up, and patted his partner on the back in gratitude.

-Keep checking nearby cameras, Zetsu, preferably at that specific time. I'm sure there's some trace of her.-

-Are you going to give me a raise?-

-It depends on you,- Itachi said, before taking Neji by the forearm, who just let himself be led away, without taking his eyes off the static girl on the monitor screen.

---

Lost.

He fondly remembers a 6-year-old Hinata playing with him in the afternoons, taking out the dusty wooden box she kept her tea set in, wrapped in velvet, which her father had given her for her birthday.

She cleaned them viciously, not satisfied until she heard the porcelain squeak. She used to serve him the chamomile tea her mother hid on the bottom shelf, but she never let him use the teapot.

That tea set was her most precious treasure.

They played with it every time he got a new stuffed animal for his bed, when his teacher praised him for his work, or when little Neji thought of his parents.

It was always the same ritual: setting the white wooden table, putting out the colored napkins she kept under her bed, cleaning the cups, and placing a different stuffed animal on each chair.

And when he was done, he would carefully wash each piece himself, enjoying seeing his own reflection in them, arrange them in their box in each compartment, and store them in his little cousin's closet.

But what happened to that tea set that Hinata cared for so lovingly?

One summer, when he wanted to play with his friends, one of them dropped it.

Hinata's little eyes watched as her flowered cup turned into broken porcelain, and she cried so hard that she couldn't open her eyes afterward.

Neither hugging her stuffed animal nor eating the butter cookies her mother made could calm her down.

She wanted her tea set.

And now Neji understands her so well.

Because now Neji wants Hinata with him.

He captured the place in small scenes: the shops, the bookstores, the jewelry stores.

Material desires that fill you momentarily.

But her clear irises were looking for something else, something to fill that void that was growing bigger and bigger.

He didn't care that Itachi took him by the wrist and they walked together to who knows where. He didn't care about the shoves people gave him as they passed by.

He was tired, tired of thinking, tired of loving someone so much who was never coming back.

He thought that seeing her on camera would calm his incessant rage at the injustice of fate.

But as it calmed him, his own pain grew stronger.

And it consumed him to such an extent that he was no longer on the same plane as everyone else.

Not in Rock Lee for wanting to heal.

Not even in Itachi for wanting to know.

He just... existed. Nothing more.

It was no longer just a twinge he felt in his head. Perhaps the memories themselves, the doubts and truths, were beginning to weigh on him, spinning around in his head and causing a growing pain that would not subside.

She knew Itachi was talking because she saw him move his lips and look her in the eyes, but she didn't understand what he was saying. The ringing in her ears was getting louder and louder, her head rose automatically, and she was about to enter a restaurant in the big city of Suna.

The dirty tables and gloomy atmosphere gave her the chills. How many times had she said she hated Suna? Enough times to loathe every part of it, every place. The waitresses came and went with contagious laziness, giving fake smiles to the men who might leave them a good tip and grimaces to the women who judged the shortness of their uniforms and their large necklines with their eyes.

There weren't that many tables in the place, but there were enough for the young investigator to shrug his shoulders in his seat. The feeling of oppression in his chest grew as the murmurs increased in volume. He didn't feel safe, but he didn't feel in immediate danger either.

The emotional pain he had been carrying for so many weeks was taking control of his body, spreading through his head in terrible throbs that pierced his brain like stakes, and the heat in his body was increasing with each passing second.

His gaze was fixed on Itachi, from whom he could not hear a word, even though he did not take his eyes off him. He swallowed hard, as if at any moment a drought would flood his throat. Tingling was all his body screamed.

When he noticed Itachi picking up the cardboard menu from the table, he tried to imitate his gesture, but as soon as his eyes tried to focus on the different appetizers and prices, the lights on the ceiling grew steadily brighter before his eyes; flashes of light pierced his corneas, blinding him from any attempt to read.

He squeezed his eyelids shut tightly, his hands intertwining his long hair on his head, holding it up from the terrifying weight it was now.

He felt extremely tired, as if he had just finished running a marathon less than two minutes ago.

He wanted to disappear right there, the sensations slowly killing him. He sought refuge in the cold metal table of the restaurant, sliding down until his head, burning with pure pain, touched it.

Faint flashes danced in his closed eyes, while his hands clung tightly to his head, trying in vain to make the constant throbbing disappear.

The smell of old fried food flooded his nostrils, and the feeling of disgust mixed with nausea was quick to appear, making his heart race even faster.

He just needed to sleep a little at that poorly washed table, just get away from it all for a while.

Just for a little while, and then he would return to the investigation, to search for Hinata.

His Hinata.

His eyelids were so heavy that he didn't open his eyes when he felt his body floating, being grabbed forcefully, or when the cold breeze of Suna hit his cheeks.

His lips were so dry that he didn't flinch when small drops of liquid fell on them, accompanied by fingers that insistently opened his mouth to expose his tongue.

His head burned so much that he didn't care much about being grabbed by his own hair while receiving small fans of air against his face.

He didn't care much about being cared for in his own collapse.

He didn't care about his own health.

But for once, he would take the time to sleep until he felt nothing more.

---

It was so common for Neji to feel the cold in his bones every night he spent in Suna that he was more surprised not to feel it. Instead, the soft fabric covering his body forced him to open his eyelids. His eye sockets moved at a clumsy pace, trying to see, to remember, but blinded by the white light from the ceiling, he ended up even more confused.

His mind kept spinning, with slight pulses appearing in brief moments, but the pain that had tormented him before was gone.

He turned his head slightly, focusing his gaze on the window of that unfamiliar bedroom; raindrops slid down the glass, accompanying the sound of the branches tapping constantly. The tension returned to his body when someone's footsteps entered his field of hearing, his fists clenched tightly around the sheet he held between his fingers, fearful, vulnerable.

Despite the clean smell of his clothes, the warm, soft fabrics around him, and the toast on porcelain and cup of hot tea on the dark table, he couldn't help but feel captured, trapped.

He feared the worst, showing weakness and being taken, locked up by someone with bad intentions. Deep down, he hoped that this place was a hospital. He tried to convince himself that it was just a private room at Suna Hospital. Although the smell of chlorine and disinfectant was replaced by incense and whiskey, and the alarms and voices by drips and branches.

-You're awake.- The owner of those footsteps soon appeared in the room. His fingers gripped the cotton sheet tightly, feeling the slight tug in his heart at the answer he didn't want to accept.

What did he expect? After all, he had collapsed in front of him in that restaurant.

-Officer Uchiha,- he hesitated as soon as he had him in front of him. He was the same guy as always, with his apathetic gaze, tied-back black hair, and terrifyingly formal demeanor, but seeing him in clothes other than his black coat and tailored pants was quite strange for the young brown-haired man. -I'm sorry for the inconvenience.-

-We'll talk about that later. How are you feeling?-

-Not very well, but I can hold on for now.-

-You should get some more sleep, Hyuga.-

-In your bed? I don't want to bother you, Officer Uchiha.-

-We're at my house, you don't have to keep calling me that, Neji.- Just hearing him say his name was enough to make the light-eyed boy's hair stand on end under the sheets.

-Even though we're at your house, you're still my boss.-

-Fine.- The book Itachi was holding in his hands ended up on the bed with a slight bounce. He carefully slid his hand over the sheets, smoothing them out a little before sitting down. That was enough for Neji to sit up awkwardly, still looking into his eyes. -If I'm your boss, I order you to go back to sleep.-

-Okay, I will.- Carefully, he removed the soft barrier covering him under the older man's reluctant gaze.

-What are you doing?-

-I'm going to sleep at my house, Itachi.-

-You can't.-

-Why not?-

-It's raining.-

-He can lend me an umbrella, can't he?- I try to ignore the fact that I'm not wearing his clothes, I try to keep my hands from shaking when I realize I'm wearing one of his boss's shirts along with my underwear.

-I could,- Itachi's fingers reached out to him, barely touching the seam of the shirt to avoid searching for his shoes. -But you just took a shower, you can't go out like that, and it's already midnight.-

-...How am I supposed to know how I took a shower if I was asleep, Itachi?

-...You were burning up with fever.-

-Did that give you the right to undress me and shower me?

-I don't want any dead bodies in my house.-

-You could have left me there.-

-And get sued because my ward was found unconscious during working hours?- A small grimace appeared on the brown-haired man's lips. He had known for weeks how incredibly selfish his boss could be, but he didn't expect that to involve his own health.

He hesitated for a few seconds before returning to that bed, but as things stood, he seemed to have no choice. His bare feet felt the cold sensation of the floor, sending shivers down his body. He sat down carefully next to Itachi, trying to come up with a new question from the thousands in his head.

-It's not necessary,- muttered Itachi, who seemed to have read his thoughts. -You fainted. I'm no doctor, but you turned very pale when we went to eat, and I suspected something was wrong when you didn't say anything, which is quite unusual for you, you fighter.-

Neji's cheeks were a faint pink, the result of the embarrassment he felt at hearing that nickname.

-Then I took you to my truck, gave you some tranquilizers, and well, I think I overdid it a little. I spent almost the whole day there until you woke up just now.- Itachi paused for a moment, encouraged by those clear eyes that gave him so many ideas. -I don't want to make false assumptions, that would damage my reputation, but I'm almost certain it's because of your lack of self-care.-

-How do you know I don't take care of myself?-

-Your eyes are a little sunken, your cheekbones look a little sharp, you're quite light, and you're so pale that your blushes are noticeable in a second... and not only that.- Itachi's dangerous approach to his neck made him shudder. He felt himself getting lost in that hollow for a few seconds before whispering, -You smelled pretty bad.-

-...What?-

-Moisture. When was the last time you showered, Neji?- Saliva stuck in his throat, forcing him to swallow at such an offense.

-That didn't seem to matter to you when you attacked me in your office.-

-Oh, the fighter is back. I think you're feeling better.- His eyes rolled back, while the raven-haired man could only smile inwardly. -And in response to your accusation, you started it.-

-...It was an impulse,- Neji defended himself.

-What strange impulses, Neji. Do you usually kiss people when you get angry?-

The light-eyed man's patience was running out between embarrassment and nervousness. It was no longer enough to clench his hands on his legs or bite his tongue to try to keep quiet. He gathered enough courage to get out of bed once more, his semi-damp hair falling elegantly down his back as he headed for the doorway, ready to escape the situation.

But the same man who made him flee made him stop.

-Zetsu found new information on the cameras.-

He looked over his shoulder, tempted to return to his seat, but still with his nerves on edge. He limited himself to just turning his body toward him, waiting for him to continue while his arms crossed over his chest.

-The young Hinata was spotted near Ichiraku Bar,- Itachi said, without taking his eyes off Neji. -She took out her phone and called someone.

-Someone? Who?-

-We're not sure, but do you remember the car?

-Yes, Miss Yamanaka's.-

-We found her phone inside it.- Neji's heart was no longer just filled with nerves; now the slight twinge that had been bothering him for weeks had returned.

-Does it work?-

-We sent it in for repair. If it works, we'll know who she called.- He hated it when his head started throbbing like that, but as his eyes stared at the floor, he couldn't help thinking about the thousands of possibilities.

The rain seemed to intensify as the minutes passed, the sound of it falling on the roof clearly audible in the silence that had settled over the place. The older man stood up, oblivious to the brown-haired man's thoughts, staying close enough for Neji to smell his cologne.

-The repairs will take a long time, probably weeks, I don't know. I know you think the same as I do, and leaving the case until it's ready would be a huge waste of clues and time, so Neji, do you have any idea who he might have called?

 The question echoed in his head. There were so many options; Hinata wasn't particularly antisocial, she could have friends who were both close and far away. At that point, everyone could be a suspect.

But he could narrow it down to the most likely candidate. It had to be someone very close to her, someone she shared her cell phone number with, which she did with no more than five people: Ten Ten, Rock Lee, Kiba, Naruto, and him.

Ten Ten was unlikely; he would remember because he was with her that night, but he didn't receive any calls.

Rock Lee was with his boyfriend, and he had just seen her that same day an hour earlier.

Kiba couldn't have been the one either, because they had been together minutes before, and if he wanted something, he could have just gone back to ask for it.

That left only two people, and it was best to rule everything else out.

-...Naruto Uzumaki.

The determination in his eyes was enough for Itachi to trust his word.

-Okay, we'll call that boy in for questioning as soon as possible.- Neji was so distracted that he didn't react quickly enough before Itachi took his face in his hands and lifted it to leave a light kiss on his lips. -Sorry, an impulse,- he apologized, before letting go and walking away to another part of the house.

Leaving a rather bewildered brown-haired boy feeling faint once again.

---

He was never devoted to his own religion. In fact, he remembers little of what they taught him and Hinata when they went to church, or what the Bible was about.

But he couldn't help comparing that week to the very representation of the seven deadly sins, which he had been so often reprimanded for replicating in any situation.

It wasn't even because of his actions, or his recent visit to church, it was because of Naruto Uzumaki.

Yes, that boy who had been refusing to cooperate with the police for days.

Pride

The Suna police called him once, during which Naruto had done nothing but express his lack of interest in participating in the case, hanging up before Deidara had even finished, which ended up angering the long-haired blond.

He even asked Rock Lee to convince him, but the blue-eyed boy did nothing but maintain his stance and minimize the work that Suna's justice system was doing to find Hinata.

Greed

He lived his life, his day-to-day, without a care in the world. He watched him on social media. On Instagram, he was becoming incredibly famous because of his songs, and he knew he had gotten a few gigs at some dive bars, but when the police tried to contact him via message, he just blocked them.

He boasted about his normal, easygoing life.

He refused to cooperate with the police.

Lust

Neji didn't want to approach Naruto directly, not yet. But on the third day, he had to ask his own ex-girlfriend to get a little closer to Naruto.

He waited all day, attentive to any news about the boy, but he received the information around 2 a.m., when Ten Ten assured him that he had gone to a nearby motel with a blonde woman, probably Ino Yamanaka.

That morning, he again refused to cooperate with the police, arguing that he had to take care of his father, which was apparently a lie.

Gluttony

Naruto always had a good appetite, so it was no surprise that he ate one bowl of ramen and then another three half an hour later.

His initial plan on the fourth day was to send some ramen to his house with a note from the police telling him to report to Suna.

However, Rock Lee told him that Naruto said he ate them all in one sitting and threw the notes in the trash.

That stubborn blond was definitely wearing down all his patience.

 Envy

He didn't want to do it under any circumstances, but on the fifth day, he found himself needing to witness Naruto's attitudes and the reasons for his refusals for himself.

He rejoined his old classes with the excuse that his boss had allowed him to take his classes for the last three days, so it wasn't difficult to reconnect with his old group of friends.

Although the atmosphere was not the same, perhaps because of his breakup with Ten Ten... or perhaps because of his own coldness when speaking.

Or perhaps because of Hinata.

But between silences and other people's conversations, he could see the blond with an indescribable emotion in his eyes; when he looked at Rock Lee, when he saw him loving his red-haired boyfriend so much, he could feel a certain resentment.

But why? Perhaps because Rock Lee loved so freely.

And Naruto... well, his girlfriend was missing.

Deep down, Neji couldn't help but empathize with him.

But that same empathy would be what he would use on the sixth day to get Naruto to talk.

Laziness.

Naruto didn't attend college as expected.

It wasn't that unusual; he was Naruto Uzumaki, so he probably overslept.

The address Lee gave him led him to an apartment. He knocked on the door several times, but received no answer. Lee also gave him the key to the place, knowing how heavy his friend's sleep was.

The door creaked as it opened. He hadn't entered yet, but the cold inside froze his blood. His eyes wandered from side to side, finding only scattered clothes and ramen packages.

It was small, with only a bed and a microwave. He really hoped it had a bathroom.

There he was, asleep on that mattress, not even a sheet covering him.

He took a few steps. His phone wouldn't stop vibrating. When he glanced at it, he recognized the number as the police department.

He didn't dare wake him up; he felt invasive enough just entering his home.

He watched him for a minute, still standing, examining the way he rested.

With his hair tousled, not even a shirt on, or anyone else with him.

Maybe in the end he wasn't lazy, he just had nothing left to lose.

She didn't want to look any further, but her gaze fell on his wrists.

The call cutting off on the other end contrasted so well with the turmoil in her stomach.

He dared to kneel down, to take one of his wrists, adorned with faint red lines, in his pale hands.

Surprised was too strong a word, but Neji felt so understood.

He looked at his wrist for a moment.

They were so similar; so painful, they cried out for help in unison.

Sins are bad, but sins make you human, they let you feel.

Naruto is human, just another sinner accompanying him in the same hell.

He had shed so many tears those days that he didn't care when more began to fall from his eyes. It was only then that Naruto knew he wasn't alone, but he wasn't in danger either.

He slowly opened his eyes, coming across the scene where Neji was stroking his back as he sobbed silently.

He had always been a sensitive boy, and his eyes began to mist over just from seeing him.

-What hurts you so much, Naruto?- the brown-haired boy encouraged him to ask, his tears disappearing into his own mouth.

-...Hinata,- he replied in a whisper, finally breaking down the brown-haired boy who was so carefully running his fingertips over the red lines. -Every night, every second, every dream reminds me of her.-

He didn't feel capable of judging him, he couldn't utter a word, he knew it wasn't his moment, that Naruto needed to be heard, and that's what he did.

-I can't stop thinking that she left because of me. I don't know where she is. I want to find her... I want to apologize. I tried to call her many times, but she never answered.- His voice trembled as he tried to hold back, but it was impossible when Neji carelessly caressed his injured wrists.

-I was never the best boyfriend. I hurt her a lot, and I admit it, but I didn't want her to leave. I swear, Neji, I know how much you miss her, you and Rock Lee and Ten Ten... It's my fault she's gone. Forgive me, please forgive me.-

He hadn't been friends with Naruto for long, but he always remembered him with a big smile, unable to get depressed so easily.

Even in those days when Hinata was gone, he never saw him shed a tear. He thought he didn't care.

But Neji can be wrong many times.

-When she comes back, I'll apologize profusely. I'll beg her until my knees bleed, until my heart stops hurting. I'm not talking about this with anyone, Neji. I don't want to talk to the police. I don't want them to see me like this, weak... pathetic,- Naruto spat, and that was enough for the doubts wandering through his head to fall away one by one.

Naruto wasn't ignoring the police out of pride, annoyance, or guilt. He was ignoring them out of fear of his own weakness, of being useless.

-I try to distract myself,- he continued, his forearm covering both eyes in an attempt to hide, -to go out, to kiss, to laugh, to be happy... but it's almost impossible, Hinata is always there, seeing me so sad... I can't! And if I do...At night I can't sleep thinking about what she would do, what she would say to me, would she be happy? Would she be sad? I don't know... Not even the best drug, Neji, not even the best drug helps you forget, I've tried it.

He finished just as her phone started vibrating again. He was so used to it that he just covered his head with that old pillow. Neji took the first step, hanging up on that number that had been tormenting him for so long. His dry tears adorned his cheeks, and knowing that Naruto had ended the call when he heard him sobbing under the pillow, he removed it from his face.

He admired once again the face of a man who was suffering as much as he was, and he held his hands over his own.

-Stop tormenting yourself, Naruto. It's not your fault.-

-How do you know?-

-I'm sorry.- His lips puckered, leaving a kiss on his cheek mixed with his salty tears.

There was nothing more he could do there, nothing more he could ask for.

Whether Hinata called him or not was irrelevant, because Naruto knew nothing more than that.

-Please take care of yourself, Naruto.- It seemed like a simple request, nothing special, but that phrase fell deep into the blonde's heart as he lay on the mattress, and he smiled slightly behind Neji's back as he walked to the door.

---

It was the seventh day, and Naruto's sins were forgiven under his own faith.

But the hole inside him was getting bigger and bigger.

The feeling of being nothing, of being nothing more than a lifeless shell.

His mind wandered to a single point, to Hinata.

Death did not torment him alone, there were others: Kiba, Rock Lee... Naruto.

They all suffered the same loss, but a harsh reality filled his head, echoing in his mind.

The mind forgets very quickly; happiness comes after a while, months, even years.

Rock Lee is very happy with his current relationship; the mention of Hinata only depresses him for a few minutes.

Kiba seems to be starting to accept the truth, that Hinata didn't love him anymore, that he needs to meet more people.

Naruto has an aura of pure guilt, so stuck in the darkness. But he has his friends, his father, and he'll probably find a girl later.

And when that happens, when everyone discards the pain that binds them together... What will happen to Neji?

Neji only had Hinata, he lived for her, his happiness bore her name.

But now Neji is alone.

No more family meals, no more hugs when crying, no more goodbye kisses.

No more -Welcome home.-

He is lost.

And very broken.

After weeks, he begins to understand.

And loneliness consumed him little by little.

His empty eyes fixed on a single point showed how detached from reality he was at that moment.

His words, which used to come out like vomit, were replaced by monosyllables.

He didn't even wonder how he got to his boss's house last night, he didn't return his kisses, he didn't complain about sleeping in the same bed.

In the morning, he didn't even complain about Deidara's constant insults.

Nor at his blatant advances towards Itachi.

Neji just wanted to feel again.

Ignore.

He wanted to live for a reason.

But he couldn't find one anymore.

His only reason for living was in the morgue downstairs.

His hourglass was counting down.

He heard someone screaming in the distance and recognized who it was when he saw their blond hair.

It was Naruto. Itachi had sent police to bring him to Suna.

He looked at him for just a few seconds as they took him to the interrogation room.

He didn't move to follow Itachi, who went in after them. Nor did he advocate for Naruto.

But he could recognize Naruto's last sin when he looked into his eyes.

Anger

For being dragged away, for being forced to answer their questions while his injured wrists were encircled by those metal handcuffs.

At least Naruto would be on the same wavelength as him for a little while longer.

At least... Naruto hadn't yet become a hollow porcelain doll.

Like the ones Hinata had in her wooden trunk,

like the one Neji was becoming.