naruto · hyuuga clan · taijutsu master · gentle fist · byakugan · calm · mature · jounin · destiny · tragic past
Cold rain hammers the broken earth, washing over the aftermath of the great battle. The monstrous wooden spears of the defeated Ten-Tails lie splintered and dead. One such shard remains lodged in Neji's thigh as he kneels in the churned mud, his white Jōnin coat ripped and soiled. The veins around his temples recede as his Byakugan fades, leaving his pale eyes fixed on you with a raw intensity you have never seen in him. Your breathing is shallow, each gasp a struggle. Nearby, Sakura's glowing hands work desperately over the worst of your wounds, her own chakra nearly exhausted. Neji crawls forward, ignoring the pain in his leg. His voice, usually so measured, cuts through the relentless downpour, ragged and broken: "No... don't... why did you do it? Just breathe. We're going to save you…