thenearshore | ( Closed ) - to state as a fact

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( Closed ) - to state as a fact

Who: Sharak Sanzo & Neji Hyuuga
When: August 15 + 18
Where: The Near Shore
What: Wherein Neji has to quit pretending to be some kind of 'strong, silent type' loner.
Warnings: None off the top of my head; will edit if necessary.

✖✖ [The good thing about visiting the world of the living was that he was practically invisible. The bad thing about visiting the world of the living were those short-lived, rare moments when he wasn't-- because that was when the questions would flood him. They were well-intentioned, most times, he guesses. They were fair. But he still hated them. "Are you okay?", "Excuse me, do you need help?", "Can you... see alright? I can help with--" Silly things to get miffed at, right? Right.

Except he's come to (struggle to) accept he'll not... fit in with the living, not that he'd care to try (he says). He'd known it since Yuri first had the gall to offer him an allowance; some gods and shinki could take up jobs for cash, he'd learned. It really couldn't be that difficult to find something suitable for the sake of having a small bit of freedom-- but it had been. Or maybe he'd never tried beyond the first or second hesitant refusal, did it matter? It wasn't as if he had ever been particularly crestfallen over not being offered a lousy part-time manning a stupid coffee shop when there were ads for joining the police force or military here and there and anyway

he was content with being invisible, if being invisible was the only other option to being stared at as if he was some freak. Neji didn't think it was odd. There weren't so many places to be alone in the summer evenings, though, that put considerable distance between himself and his new duties.

A trendy, upscale district in Tokyo is about as close as he can get to not having to bump shoulders with anybody-- students aren't as eager to rush through crossings in droves, and the older people were content to ignore everyone and everything and

the detachment of everyone was grating on his nerves. Speaking of stupid coffee shops, though, there's a familiar one just up ahead. There's the sudden, painful awareness of persistent hunger and... just as suddenly, the realization that he's gone and found-- her. And, maybe, if he pretends he'd never intended to head in her direction at all, she'll be none the wiser to him. (Fat chance.)]

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[Somehow, picking a random, unimportant area of Tokyo with the goal of not running into anyone she knows never fails to... be the perfect way to run into someone she knows. Without fail, really. Sharak should be expecting this by now.

She's exiting the coffee shop, having just finished a rather mediocre cup of tea, halfway through the door when she looks up and sees-- just the person she'd been thinking of. Sharak meets Neji's eyes from across the street, no matter how hard he might try to avoid her gaze. It's difficult to look away from a stare like that. After a moment, her expression tightens slightly. Signifying something, perhaps.

Then Sharak turns and walks away, following a footpath that gradually turns into a small, wooded park that properly helps send the housing prices of the neighbourhood sky high. There's presumably a reason Neji ask Hakkai to act as an intermediary before. She'll let him decide if he wants to talk to her now, somewhere neutral and relatively hidden.

He just better decide that he wants to talk to her.]

[There's discomfort with knowing he's being watched, and that's unusual in itself. It's not guilt over avoidance or even guilt at all, and he's trying a little too hard to wrangle down the flash of shame. It can't be something he's been previously used to experiencing, because when he does meet and hold Shark's stare, it's with a posture that seems more braced for confrontation than it seems fit to apologize. --not in the wrong, again, since it is a confrontation the woman's looking for.

'Confrontation' being the wrong word, since Neji's done nothing to warrant aggression but-- his mind's not been entirely his own, lately. Mind you, he does debate to just... not. Follow. He'd wanted space and that'd been that, and being out didn't exactly mean he'd been looking forward to chatting and. But he does follow. With practical reluctance he's walking up some minutes later, arms crossed, expression unimpressed- the whole shebang. (As if he hadn't jumped a little at being caught by teacher.]

What do you want?

Shouldn't I be asking you that?

[He followed her, after all. She never said a word. Sharak stands against a tree in a dark corner of the park, the air eerily silent at this time of day in this peaceful neighbourhood. Steady, quiet and not confrontational but... very much there. She keeps her eyes trained on him, arms folded.]

I spoke with Hakkai. How are you doing?

[--Oh.

So the bravado dissipates and Neji holds in a sigh because that'd just be unnecessary. And pathetic, possibly, and he'd like to save face so very much and so... he also keeps from slowly repeating what she just said. She spoke with Hakkai.

That's pretty much exactly what he had asked for, and yet

not at all.] And what did he say? [Because the shame's crawling back and he hates being a docile, predictable... despair-dispenser, and yet he can't let go of that dread of humiliation. What did it matter what Hakkai had said? His name had been plastered over the damn forum. He uncrosses his arms, lifts them- because as she can clearly see] I'm fine.

What you told him to.

[And then some. By the time she saw the network post, she was already on the look out for red flags. And she'd seen them. Whether or not Junko was actually dangerous was yet to be seen, but Neji wouldn't be taking steps like this if he weren't concerned.]

I see. [Sharak keeps watching him for a long moment before she leans down. Lifting the end of her robe and her pant leg, Sharak pulls the colt pistol out of a holster on her ankle. She spins it around in her hand until she holds it out to Neji, handle towards him.] Is that why you don't need this?

I only asked him to hand you the...

[Well, he drops his hands to his side, less so in defeat and more so in lukewarm moodiness. He doesn't bother to stand straighter or looser with her piercing gaze on him. No, he just holds his own eyes on hers in some silent, misguided defiance. His jaw's squared, because he hates having trailed off at all.

But what can you do. Pressing for more details meant he cared about what people said about him. He does not. He's shaken, again, a little, when Sharak just procures the old Colt like that. (There's something in him that says he shouldn't be surprised of weapons coming out thin air.) There's something louder, still, that tells him to --stubbornly, admittedly-- not reach for the handle.

So like any obedient servant, he doesn't. (The hair at the back of his neck is on end. This is stupid. He's not used to--)] That is correct, Sharak-sama.

[Two can play at this.

She's not playing.] I have my situation well under control. [And he's exaggerating, sure, but the intent to believe it is... there.]

[Sharak doesn't play.]

So you're just giving up then. [On what? Shooting, maybe. Sharak pulls the gun back, moving it in her hand so she's holding it properly. Finger on the trigger, she turns it on it's side to examine it as if she hasn't seen it before.]

Your situation seems to be slipping out of your grasp.

[Sharak should mind her own business. Neji didn't ask for her help and he knows she's there to ask if he wants it. He doesn't seem to be in any immediate peril. This could be a delicate situation that would not be helped by Sharak kicking down a strangers door with a machine gun in hand. This isn't her business.

... But there's nothing wrong with the representative of Aditi stopping by the temple of a fellow pantheon member, just to say hello. They're practically colleagues. If anything, it's rude that she hasn't done this already. And so, quite early that morning, Sharak takes a walk headed in the direction of the temple of Mohini.

Sharak is incapable of minding her own business.]

[Despair's Peak is --was-- a towering facility surrounded by lush landscaping, full and green trees, and despite its size and awe-inspiring nature, it always went unnoticed by the neighboring large buildings. The day of its apparent demolition was no different. So the trees, if they were native trees, kept their space in this large plot of undeveloped, well-kept land. The empty space even seems warm and inviting this hot August day, and there's a gang of kids who had taken to running through it earlier in that same morning but it's not their monkey business Neji is gaping at.

No, he'd been perched on a tree- either hogging the shade or keeping the bewilderment at Mohini's disappearance in check before he dared step away from her lands or both. But that's Sharak. Here. And he doesn't bother with being quiet as he hops down and moves to place himself between her and

the nothingness of Mohini's temple, but anyway, the point is, he's puzzled enough to point fingers.] And just what do you think you're doing here? ['Point fingers' in a figurative way, of course. His voice is loud and accusing, doing a good enough job at masking alarm where a slightly disheveled appearance might fail to.]

[Sharak steps through the trees, wondering if the temple is just more modest than the girl's personality or- no, definitely not. She recognises the empty plot of land for what it is, blinking slightly when Neji lands in front of her.]

... Nothing now, I suppose.

[The problem resolving itself with no input from her or anyone else leaves her slightly off-balance. But her real priority hasn't changed, and it's easy to focus on him when he's in front of her. She looks Neji up and down.]

How long have you been out here?

Hm. [He knows he asked but that didn't give her answer the right to be so damned unsatisfactory. Last he'd been aware, Sharak didn't have any business with Mohini. Last he'd been aware, however, he'd also not known anyone's business with Mohini, and an invitation for some tea isn't even ridiculously out of the question. That Sharak would accept said hypothetical invitation is, though, and Neji's expression twists into something openly suspicious.

He steps aside and steps in line with her, gesturing lamely to where the temple used to be.] Not long. [He hadn't even snuck a shower yet, casual vanity pushed aside for the moment to make way for unease and a moment to breathe

which he supposes wasn't unwelcome. Neji doesn't give in to the urge to run a hand through his hair.] The temple disappeared only last night. [Evening. What's a few hours' difference?] You're lucky you missed it.

[To be fair, Mohini didn't invite anyone over. Sharak didn't wait for that courtesy. She watches Neji's movements as he steps in line with her, before turning back to the empty lot.]

I'm always a little too late to see it happen. [Though she'd quite like to. Any chance to accumulate information.] But I'm sure that's intentional.

[Barring literal time travel, it seems none of them have been able to directly witness their enemy's magic at work. Which makes Sharak all the more eager to see it.]

I'm guessing there was no indication anything was about to happen.

[Of course it's intentional, he wants to say. But gods forgive him for not wanting to explain his reasoning when he doesn't quite have one. Another small noise from him in agreement, and that's all the woman gets.

And it's not that he wants the moment to begin to bleed nostalgia (can he even call it that?), but of course there's a heavy silence with remembrance. --Enoshima Junko can very well go to Hell, and he'd spent the past (how many?) days trying to not learn anything that could possibly conflict with reflex and instinct (why?) and if there had been any change in the air] None that I'm aware of.

[he's pretty sure he would have chalked it up to insanity, anyway.

And of course with Yuri

well, no.

Obviously not.

He sighs. It's not relief. Not with a goddess to his left who's doing nothing now but cutting a deliberate escape from reality short.] I don't believe anyone has said there is. The Heavens will do what they please- why should they inform us of it? We have to live with their decisions either way.

[She glances back at Neji again.] "The Heavens", is it?

[Sharak has never been under the impression that Amaterasu and her court had any control over the appearances or the disappearances. There's someone else out there behind that. That's the person Sharak had to deal with. Not someone as vaguely defined as "the Heavens".]

Well, whoever it is, you're right you have to live with it. [She turns away from the emptiness before them. The temple isn't a concern for her anymore.] So will you?

[So much for not being questioned. He's quick to slide into the defensive-- it's not a stance, that'd be ridiculous, but his shoulders tense all the same and he knows it's a tell to snap his attention back to Sharak like this.

He doesn't care, and maybe he should, because oh how he'd love for that wave of conflict to slink back to whatever dark pit in him it had escaped from.] What?

[More... confused, than scathing. Sure. Still a mixture of both. Whatever. He'd like to think he prefers life-- or awareness, or utility, or whatever this state of his is. He'd like to think he's a defiant bastard, and his pride

does this thing where it begins to sound an alarm, or a retreat, or something that has him do nothing but stand his ground and stand tall in overcompensation. Because he's going to look down on common sense, not now. And his common sense is screaming that this isn't... his fight. (His life isn't?)]

I'm not sure I know what you mean, Sharak-sama. [Slow, steady. Dragging out her title, just because he can.]

[Sharak doesn't seem put off by the defensiveness. She definitely doesn't respond by raising her own guard. Neji is strong enough to probably pose a somewhat serious physical threat to her, but that's not the kind of fight they're having. They're not fighting at all.

At least, not each other.]

Will you live with their decisions? [Sharak watches Neji out of the corner of her eye, lids lowered slightly. Not confronting. Not really.] Or I suppose it's... "Whose decisions will you live with?"

["The Heavens" keep making decisions and they just have to react, they can't fight them, they don't even know who they're fighting... But within those boundaries there are some decisions others can make.]

[That's bait.]

I am a shinki; the only reason you are not one is because the Heavens decided it for you whether you wanted them to not. [And this is his big mouth taking it. And this is his voice keeping level with the effort to explain away something that should be obvious, something that should have been taught, something that should be common sense

and that is, he knows in the back of his mind, baseless. And he'll defend it, because he has a stake here, because he can remember Life, and because the phantom sensation of going against what's been decided is threatening either a twitch or goosebumps out of him, both of which are unacceptable. And so he raises the volume just to make sure he's clear here, just to make sure he's defending futility for the sake of

but damn it, Sharak, he's not defending futility (and he's not stupid, he notes the averted gaze and wants the challenge she's not giving) and damn it, Sharak

he's not defending a damned thing. He's just saying] If a shinki is not named they either will be soon, or they'll lose their purpose. I have no intention of losing myself simply because Mohini-sama is no longer in the roster. So does that answer your question?

[It doesn't. He's just said a whole lot of nothing.]

If you'll be like Hakkai-sama and want warn me of the dangers of being unnamed [Thank you, but he's got it under control.

Thank you, but he knows what he's getting into.

Thank you, but he's made up his mind.] then just don't.

[On second thought, maybe everything is a fight with Neji. If not against her, then against himself and manifested as a fight against her. He always seems to be on edge and she wonders what he's like when he's finally comfortable. If he's ever comfortable. He'd seemed closer that night at the gun range, though there'd been a kind of battle there too. Sharak doesn't mind fighting.]

That's a lot of words to say nothing at all. [Sharak does not play. The gaze may be indirect and averted but damn if it isn't as piercing as ever.]

I'm not warning you about shit, you know how this place works. I'm asking what you're going to do because I want to know the answer.

[But why? And gods, is he thankful that didn't tear from his throat. He could do without the lull, without the silence that follows, without the small panic of trying to piece together an answer that satisfies both the wannabe she-wolf and himself. Because he'd be damned if he stammers.

He'd be damned if he stays quiet like some child, he--] I don't know.

[He's not-- used to

this.

Whatever 'this' is, masquerading as some confession. Give him a second and he'll] How am I supposed to know what my fate is? [hold his breath, apparently. It would be a waste of a shout. There's no fire, because he can't direct it at her. --it's a mess, is what it is. So he's back to square one. He's back to repeating what he Knows. And... it's such a pain, to not know himself. Because maybe otherwise he'd know how to stop himself from trying to pick a fight against what he can never win against. Maybe.] I was branded when I was alive. Am I supposed to consider it an honor to be branded in the afterlife, as well? [He won't. Or maybe if he knew himself better, he'd just learn how to shut up when he should. (He doubts it.) He also does, actually, bow his head.

Just like that

to the goddess in front of him. Because his alternatives look far less appetizing. Because the alternatives make far less sense. It's not that he's defending futility. It's not that he's extolling it. It's. It's just what it is, and his resolve is-- well, it's not the strongest it's been. But like any good soldier, the resolve's begun to shine through the muck of pigheadedness. Or fear. Or both.] But if you would be the one to name me, Sharak-sama...

[And no, he can't actually go through with it. Say he'd serve her well. Because that would leave a horrid taste in his mouth and he'd just ignore everything buzzing in and through him right now with action and.] It would at least have been my decision first.

[Sharak listens quietly. The air buzzes from the silence left behind when Neji is finished with his speech. Sharak's face is impassive, her only reaction being to turn her head just slightly towards the boy.]

... Not even the gods know their fates. The wheel keeps turning, in the palm of fate, and all we're left to do is what we think is best. The wheel turns and we move forward, together as one and surrounded by the suffering, joy and mundanity of the world. [Then, slowly, she raises her hand and places it softly on Neji's forehead, her long nails entangling with his hair.] All we can see is the ones our fates are linked to, by choice and by circumstance.

[She nudges his head up, so that she's looking him in the eye, face just slightly closer than comfortable. There's no indirectness in her gaze now.]

If that's your decision, we still don't know where it will lead but we'll know our fates are linked. Not by a brand, but by your decision.

[Is that what he wants?]

[The woman places her hand on him and her nails entangle in his hair and he bites back a hiss as he feels a ghost of a kick. He wants to remember some vague promise or plea and he can't, because he's a shinki and because this is now his life. He tells himself he should be uncomfortable here-- all but begging for authority over himself and there's a too-hot mist behind his eyes that only makes him stubbornly stare at the ground below and will it away.

Frustration, but what else is new.

He can do nothing but listen and... agree, he guesses. And if that wheel of Fate could reverse and have the woman's hands be Yuri's instead, he swears he'd be more than just content, he'd be happy but that's not

that's not happening. It can't. And it won't.

And Neji lets his head be guided, and he tells himself to never (entirely) drop his guard with someone so close but he can't focus on much else than maintaining the eye contact. Because this important. This is important to him.

Because he doesn't know what he should do but he does know what he wants.] Please name me, Sharak-sama. [And it's not too embarrassing, he guesses.]

[It's important. For different reasons, some inexplicable, it's important. Every time someone entrusts their safety to Sharak- and that's what the partnership between gods and shinki is, really, on both sides- she takes it seriously. A vow she'll never walk away from. If only she could occasionally say no before it got that far. ]

If that's your decision. [Neji's strong, resilient, an annoying smart ass- and there's a vulnerability there he seems to keep chained up at gun point inside. She likes the idea of getting to know him better, she finds, though this is a pain in the ass way of going about it. Isn't that just life though?

Sharak moves her hand down Neji's forehead, mussing up his hair slightly and blocking his vision. He's not so young but he feels like he is. Maybe she's just getting old.]

My name is Sharak Sanzo. Grasping thy true name, I bind thee here. With borrowed name, I dub thee my servant. The name answers, the vessel to sound. I call thee as my divine instrument. The name, Neji Hyuuga. The vessel, Shu. Come, Shuki!

[She's not going to take it easy on him.]

[Old enough for Neji to want to protest (again- what a surprise) her messing with his hair, old enough for him to not bat the hand away with an indulgence in pettiness. He won't even duck away, the gesture morphing from solemn to annoying to sincere in three heartbeats. But she had better not think he'll be so docile in any other occasion. He'll

realize, a bit too late, that he doesn't know what the expectations are between them. 'Protection' is naive and short-sighted, but the best he's got at the moment. There's not much more time to dwell on slow introspection, though

seeing as he's suddenly, sharply pleased.

<The death itself is-- slow. A contrast to the mayhem of battle that had drowned out all noise before. There are muted colors of flak jackets splashed with the red of blood, and large wooden lances strewn around at the fancy of a... monster, some indescribable ten-tailed beast. It impales shinobi here and there and shouts go out from tired comrades who can't stop their deaths- that's the whole point. The two persons atop the Beast are clearly enjoying their advantage now that they've gained one.

Everyone's exhausted at this point, not a single uniform from the Five Nations is clean. War just doesn't work that way. And a sunshine of a guy isn't immune to it, either-- some whiskered, blue-eyed, blonde kid that everyone's placing their hopes for the future in is asking for a second to recuperate, is asking for someone to have his six. The Hyuuga Clan, of course, complies. Because they're the strongest and the proudest of the Leaf Village. Because Neji and Hinata are shinobi for the reason of giving their all to the idea of a better future.

But keeping an absolute defense active for so long is impossible. Sharak should know. Energies falter. Things happen.

The gentle, younger, doe-eyed cousin is the first to notice Naruto is next on the Beast's kill-list. The projectile's fired. Naruto is the first to notice she puts herself between the incoming demon senbon spikes and himself. Neji is, of course, the first to notice it was a stupid idea and that there was no time to reverse the decision and so

naturally, he can't have either of them die when there's so much more to look forward to. He's the agile one of the three kids, and the one who's body ends up as the meat shield. There are three- four?- wooden spears through his torso and numbing pain, because he's dying. Because he honestly should have died just then but he's a stubborn bastard who has to get in the last word. He's on Naruto's shoulders (since when?) and speaking through his last breaths while sweet Hinata looks on in shocked tears. Naturally. Naruto, the Savior, has the gall to seem surprised, too (and it's funny). Prodigies can die in war. Geniuses can prove their worth to others. Caged birds can

make their own decisions, and break free of their prisons, and earn their freedom. And know there's a fighting chance for the future. And it's worth smiling over, until it gets too hard to form a thought outside of darkness.>

The name could be worse, Neji admits with a faint smirk. The next instant, of course, he's this-- non-body. A light twisting into a new form, and the small pleasure of flattery gives way to the disappointment of knowing he'll once again have to be held. So he'll apologize for the weight later. The sword-form is new to him, all 5kg of it. The blade is wide and 95-sum centimeters, with an elegant upcurve towards the broadened tip. It's a thin, simple, deep-brown handle of 38 centimeters, adorned with old gold where the blade joins and at the final 5 centimeters that shows the end ring. Of course, being a peacock of a young man, from the end ring itself hangs a single lavender tassel. There's no use to it. Excessive? Not like the vessel form was his choice alone. --but to answer the question, yes. Somewhat.

It's not that he's out to be a hassle, but it'd be a lie to say he's not somehow eager for a reaction.]

[He'd protected her, Sharak thinks dully as the vision plays out in her mind. The girl- his sister? No, not quite, but someone like that... There had been that girl and their comrade and he'd protected them. It's fitting, in an infuriating way. Neji is too young to have a death he can be proud of.

But there's no use in dwelling on it now. Sharak lets out a breath and focuses on the new weight in her hand, the heavy blade falling to the ground.]

... I think the human form would have been lighter. [Clearly the impressed reaction Neji was hoping for. But it's not the first time Sharak's been stuck with a shinki vessel like this, and she lifts Neji up with both hands, blade pointed in front of them. She will need two hands, but her arms stay steady.] This thing might be taller than you.

[Not quite, Sharak. Adjusting her grip, she bends her knee and raises the sword above her head- switching to one hand makes her wobble slightly but she regains her balance, poised to strike an invisible opponent.]

A pistol would have made my life easier, you know.

[So well done, Neji.]

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( Closed ) - to state as a fact

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18th???

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