Viva Forever

Sorry, this chapter was rushed. I hope it doesn't have too many typos or errors.


~Chapter 7~

Neji rang the bell adjacent the door of his mother’s house and watched as the lights in the windows flickered on as she made her way downstairs. It was insensitive of him to come to her at such an hour but he really needed to see her. He only wished he didn’t have to take the subway to get here and he cringed as he recalled the cramped transport, crowded with smelly, sweaty people.

He should have been patient and waited for a cab but he had too much trouble flagging one down and being ignored like that did nothing for his self-esteem. However, taking the subway plummeted his already low spirits and he found he wanted to be in the comfort of his mother now, more than before.

He was too dependent on her, Shikamaru warned him constantly, and even though she managed to release her hold upon her only son enough to talk him into moving out and living on his own, Neji was the one that was having problems staying away.

Especially after his father died…

The door peeled back, its progress halted by the chain link and a lovely, round face peeked out cautiously from behind the aperture. For as long as he could remember, his mother had always been very security conscious; making sure all windows and doors were locked before leaving the house or going to bed; installing a security system, burglar bars and motion sensitive lights; and Neji was sure that she would have bought a large dog if she wasn’t allergic to them. Although she already lived in a fairly safe neighbourhood, she remained overly zealous with regards to her personal protection, and Neji actually encouraged this habit because she was now living on her own.

“It’s okay, mom. It’s me,” he assured her and, at the sound of his voice, the woman gasped and quickly closed the door so she could undo the latch and swing it wide open to wrap ecstatic arms around his neck.

“My baby!” Haruko squealed and got on her tiptoes to rain kisses upon her child’s cheeks and although Neji was not that tall, he still had to lean over to accommodate her. “I’m so glad to see you,” she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder as she held him in a tight embrace.

Neji wrapped one arm around his mother’s lean waist and rubbed her back with the other. “I’m glad to see you too.”

She broke away from him but kept him at arm’s length as she scrutinized his features. She could always tell when something was bothering Neji just by the tone of his voice, and Neji forced a vain smile in an attempt to ease her concerns.

It didn’t work.

“Honey, is something wrong?” she asked and lifted a small hand to stroke the soft hair at his temple. It wasn’t like Neji to come visit her at an hour such as this, not that she was complaining or anything. She was always ready to open her home to him, no matter what time he came.

“No mom. I’m fine,” he lied with a shake of his head, even though he didn’t feel fine and it easily showed. Haruko ushered the young man inside, out of the chilly, night air and after securing the door once again, she helped him out of his coat. “Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked and hung the jacket on the conveniently located coat rack.

“No thanks,” Neji politely declined. His stomach was drawn into series of complicated knots and he didn’t think he could stomach anything right now. Not even liquids. “Mom… do you still… do you still have my time capsule?”

“Yes,” his mother answered slowly, suddenly becoming worried. She just knew that there had been an ulterior motive to his visit. “It’s in the attic, but… didn’t we agree to open it when you reached twenty-six?”

Neji winced. Another promise broken.

“I know, mom,” he said apologetically. “But there’s something I want to check first.”

Ms. Hyuuga tried not to let her anxieties overwhelm her as she led the way upstairs. Whatever it was that was troubling her son, she knew he would confide in her but the answer apparently lay within the time capsule they’d made together.

Neji remembered that day well. He’d scouted through all of his belongings for anything and everything that would fit inside the little, wooden box that his father had expertly crafted and his mother had beautifully painted. It was only after his mother locked it and hid the key did he realize his error in judgement and, when he asked to retrieve a few of the necessary items, his mother forbade him from opening it. It was purely out of tradition that Haruko remained steadfast on that rule no matter how much her little boy begged and pleaded.

Eventually, like all children did, he eventually found something more interesting to occupy his attentions and Neji forgot all about it. Until tonight, when his session with Shikamaru triggered something. Something that had been hidden and locked away inside his memories much like the items inside the time capsule.

They reached the landing of the second floor of the quaint, classical American house and, as much as his mother loved the simplicity of the wooden structure, he noticed that she’d had some renovations done. The floorboards that he favoured so much when he was a child no longer squeaked and the antique furniture that had come with the house when they bought it had been replaced with items of a contemporary, Japanese look. He assumed she did this to retain a touch of home because he did recall his mother used to get homesick.

She was always welcome to move back to the Hyuuga compound with the rest of the family. Neji was reluctantly willing to pay for her trip (he really didn’t want her to go, however), but Haruko chose to stay for many reasons.

First of all, Neji worked and lived in America now and letters and telephone calls were not enough. She wanted to be able to see him and be available to him whenever he felt like stopping by. When her husband died, the family flew in for the funeral and Hiashi decided to stay in the country to be Neji’s ‘surrogate’ father. The Hyuuga head moved Hinata and Hanabi with him and Haruko loved those two, little girls just as much as she loved Neji so they gave her even more incentive to remain.

She had also grown attached to this house even though she loathed it at first. There had been no justifiable cause for them to pack up and move away from the Hyuuga clan for a second time, much less to a completely different continent, but Hizashi had become restless after reconciling and returning. He missed the ‘independence’ of being a nuclear family during those two weeks in Nagano and, after months of persuasion, he managed to convince his wife to make the trip. Haruko immediately hated her new environment but only because she missed Japan so much but, surprisingly, Neji seemed to like it here and, for his sake, she tried not to let her displeasure show.

She still couldn’t say she preferred America over Japan but she did love her new home and the walls housed so many dear memories she was afraid what other tenants would do to it if she ever moved out.

The most important reason Haruko Hyuuga remained in a country she never allowed her roots to settle in was because her husband’s grave was here and, when she died, she wanted to be buried right next to him.

Neji glanced at the museum of pictures framed in gold, silver and wood hung upon the wall. Every year his mother would remind her family to send updated photos so she could add them to her growing collection and it had become so large that it was getting difficult to discern the wallpaper pattern beneath it. There were cousins, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, some faces he didn’t recognize and others he was surprised at how well they’d grown. His cousins; Hinata and Hanabi smiled broadly at him from behind a glass plane and Neji shot both attractive ladies a weak smile in return. Between them was their father, Hiashi, his face as stern as a judge’s and Neji shivered at the harsh expression.

That face… used to scare him constantly when he was a small boy and he never looked his uncle in the eye when he was that age. He learned that his uncle only did those terrifying things to him to toughen him up because he disagreed with the way his brother and sister-in-law were raising their son but Neji harbored no resentment towards him now. He wasn’t the type of person to hold a grudge… but he was, apparently, the type of person to forget a loved one.

Neji frowned at that thought. “Mom… do you remember, Sasuke?”

The short woman paused midway as she stood on the stool to reach the ladder that led to the attic. “Sasuke?” she echoed, with a puzzled expression as she tried to place a face with the name.

Relief bubbled briefly within his chest when it appeared as if he wasn’t the only one who had forgotten Sasuke, but when he said, “Yeah, Sasuke Uchiha,” his hope died and his guilt returned when recognition flashed on his mother’s dignified features.

“Oh, the Uchihas,” she said, recalling the family name. “Yes, I remember them. Such a nice family. They had two sons, right?” she asked no one in particular then tapped a finger against her chin. “Itachi and… Sasuke. He was your little friend wasn’t he?” Haruko then chuckled when an image of both boys formed inside her mind’s eye and she yanked the ladder down. “He must be a fine, young man now.”

Neji’s stomach clenched for the umpteenth time that day. Sasuke had become a fine, young man.

“Mom, why didn’t I keep in touch with Sasuke after we moved back?” he then asked.

The middle-aged woman hummed thoughtfully. “Well, you were so excited to see your family and all of your old friends, honey that you probably forgot all about him.”

The clenching in his stomach reached his chest and Neji stifled a pained groan.

“You know, children have such fickle memories,” she giggled. “I’m sure Sasuke has forgotten all about you too.”

With all due respect, Neji wanted his mother to shut up because every word cut deep into his conscience and made him feel worse.

She climbed into the dark, stuffy room and flicked on the overhead light by the pull of a hanging chain before turning to face her son who had followed close behind her. “You know, you should probably try getting in touch with him. I’m sure he’d be glad to hear from you.”

He highly doubted that. After the awful things he’d said to him that night, he was probably the last person Sasuke wanted to hear from.

“I know it’s here somewhere,” she muttered as she sifted through memorabilia stored in boxes, crates and bags.

While she was occupied with her search, Neji took the time to explore the dusty attic. He wasn’t looking for traces of Sasuke, no, what he needed could only be found in the capsule. What he was doing was reminiscing about his father. He’d been gone so long that Neji lost count of the many years he’d been forced to carry on without him. He was the backbone of their family and, Neji often wondered, how they managed to stay upright without him. Haruko had been devastated but with the family’s help, she managed to keep it together, especially for Neji’s sake. He was still so young when it happened and not mentally prepared for a tragedy so grievous and Neji recalled how much his school mates envied the three and a half weeks the child psychiatrist appropriated for his mourning.

“Ah, here it is!” she announced and lifted the box from among a stack of old records. Neji walked over to her just as she was about to sit down on a sturdy box but Neji politely admitted that he’d rather do it alone. She frowned in obvious disappointment at missing an opportune, parent-child moment but honored his request and excused herself while she went downstairs to make a cup of tea.

The paint had become a little scratched and faded from age but remained just as ornate as he’d first received it. The small, silver key had been attached to the simple padlock by a piece of string to prevent it from getting lost and Neji occupied the seat his mother had abandoned before removing the lock.

He was almost hesitant to open the lid and did so slowly, as if he expected something to jump out and smack him in the face. Shikamaru’s therapy session had already uncovered so much, even though it had been cut short, but it still was not enough. He was too impatient to wait until he saw Nara again and he wanted to remember everything he could now.

He carefully examined each content of the box because even though he knew what he needed was in here he wasn’t exactly sure what it was he was looking for. There were funny, birthday and straight-A report cards. Souvenirs from family vacation trips and little, plastic toys he’d collected from the kids meals served at fast food restaurants.

His anxiety flared in expectation of finding that one, very important clue and he found that, the deeper he searched, the more afraid he was of what he would find. And his fears became so immense that he wanted to throw the box from him and never return to his mother’s attic.

This was ridiculous!

Why was he unsettling himself over something he shouldn’t care this much about? So what if he remembered Sasuke? So what if he remembered their marriage to each other? Was that going to change anything now? What drove him to this point was his inconsolable guilt that refused to allow him to forgive himself for forgetting everything in the first place but it was not his fault that another man kept a part of his life reserved just for him. Was it?

He still couldn’t convince himself.

In any case, there was nothing in there that had anything to do with Sasuke or the two weeks he spent in Nagano. He could finally stop torturing himself about it and put this whole mess behind him. Shikamaru would help him get over his guilty conscience… maybe he could hypnotize him into forgetting Sasuke again…

He was just about to close the lid on this mystery once and for all when his clear, amethyst eyes landed on a folded piece of dingy, yellowed paper. His heart rate sped up and his skin became cold as he became overwhelmed with dread and although he couldn’t immediately recognize it for what it was, something told him that he already knew what it was. He reached in to take the sheet of paper in a shaking hand and gently rested the box on the floor with the other. Warning voices screamed inside his head, telling him that he wasn’t ready for this but he had to know and as he peeled the fragile document apart his breath caught and his eyes brimmed over with tears.

It was his copy of the marriage certificate with his and Sasuke’s name scribbled at the bottom in purple and blue ink.