NejiTen Oneshots And Drabbles

Poker Face

Neji scowled at his cards.

Or he would have if he could be bothered to show any emotion.

There were rumors that Hyūga men were actually incapable of making facial expressions, their musculature having evolved to only allow for 'stern,' 'haughty,' 'smug,' or that vague line between 'displeased,' 'disappointed,' and 'dismissive' that sent people scrambling to get back in their good graces.

There were of course exceptions to this rule, but Neji was not one of them.

No matter how gravely disappointed he was with the cards in his hand, his expression remained unchanged.

After all, he was Hyūga Neji, and his poker face was legend.

He showed nothing – choosing instead to radiate cold and distance himself from the general populace. He saw everything and analyzed everything and broke down his opponents into a series of quirks and tells and decimated them at every turn. His calm was iron-clad and impenetrable. He was unapproachable. He was insurmountable.

And yet absolutely none of this fazed his last remaining opponent.

He first saw her in Vegas, and she was so comfortable, he assumed she was on her home turf. Then he saw her in Sao Paolo, Manila, Macau, and Paris, and thought the same things. He'd over heard her speaking to other players in their own tongue, and with very little accent. Hanabi was a big fan a fan and had taken to spouting off random facts about her.

"Her name is Tenten. Her nickname is 'The Panda' because of her hair. She's supposed to be really nice. No one knows much about her. She's half Chinese – never said what the other half is. Really versatile player…"

Thankfully these recitations were usually interrupted by a text from her friends (probably her boyfriend) or the general silence that fell over her when she got sucked into scrolling through Tumblr – which assured Neji of no less than two hours of redirection.

Unfortunately all of those stupid facts were circling through his mind at random, stealing from his concentration while she had the unmitigated gall to sit across from him looking for all the world like she was content with whatever she had been dealt – not smug, not disappointed, not thrilled, not assured – just content.

She occasionally tapped her fingers to her music in her ears, the gentle wiff of something like lavender or jasmine wafting over to him enticingly – if he were the type to be enticed – her face open and honest and kind.

This woman appeared to have no secrets – to show everything – which irritatingly made her unreadable to him. There was nothing to ferret out – nothing to discern.

And although she hadn't spoken or looked his way much at all, Neji had the distinct displeasure of feeling like she had read his every line, molecule, follicle and pheromone.

It was infuriating.

This was all Hanabi's fault.

It was Hanabi's fault that he knew all of these things about his opponent. It was Hanabi's fault that he'd gone to the hotel gym at such an ungodly hour – he wasn't sure yet how, but he was certain it was – and that she had already been there, running on the treadmill with her music jammed in her ears, and her focus on the TV in front of her. Therefore it must also be Hanabi's fault that she had proceeded to continue a workout routine that would've stopped most athletes in their tracks, yet she finished it intact. It was Hanabi's fault that he'd seen her in workout clothes that had no right looking as attractive as they did on the enemy.

And most of all, it was Hanabi's fault that he could see the edge of a pink racerback sports bra peeking out from the neckline of her loose shirt – if not the same, then the twin of the one she'd worn that morning he'd seen her, and the image came racing back to him, interrupting the synaptic responses from his eyes to his brain, and clouding his reasoning with the sight of strength and sinew instead of clubs and diamonds and spades and hearts.

And through all of this cyclonic upheaval, she didn't have the common decency to to be even remotely fazed by his intense displeasure.

He wrestled his remaining concentration and grounded himself for this final hand, and it all came down to the dealer's last card.

The dealer shifted the long toothpick in his mouth, flipped over the card, and everything erupted around them.

She'd been brimming with excitement, but contained herself enough to stand and extended her hand toward him.

"Congratulations," he'd said stiffly as she wrapped a smaller but strong and calloused hand in his own.

"Luck of the draw," she shrugged. "Just went my way this time."

Her smile was brilliant and kind, and the corners of his mouth tipped up despite every genetic predisposition that declared such a thing as impossible.

"You're lucky, too," she glanced at his palm. "Not just your record," she turnd his hand over in hers. And ran her fingertips over his palm, mapping the inroads there as his heart stuttered and crashed to a halt. "You've got good things coming your way." Her smile lit up her entire face, and he would be hard pressed not to call her 'beautiful.'

"I'm glad," she said warmly. "You deserve good things."

"TENTEN!" a man cried, leaping toward her, head to toe in a stunning shade of green. She laughed and let him snatch her up and spin her around before hoisting her on his shoulders. Neji blinked several times, wondering what in the world had just happened.

"That's her best friend," Hanabi said, sidling up to him. "Rock Lee. I'm surprised they managed to keep him back as long as they did."

"I see."

"Tough break," Hanabi reached for the table and plucked up a card. "And to think that this measly card completely turned your night around. Eh," she shrugged. "Better luck next time."

She stuck the card in the crook of his crossed arms, and hurried off to try and meet her idol.

Neji shook his head and plucked the card out, that same feeling he got when he had been goaded into getting into one of those carnival rides washing over him.

He sensed that everything after this night was going to be different in ways he couldn't possibly imagine. He caught Tenten's eye, and she shrugged helplessly as Lee paraded her though the throngs of people. Laughter poured from her, and he tucked the deciding card into his pocket.

"For luck," he shrugged at the dealer's raised eyebrow.

That was what he said...

...but he had the strangest feeling that the Queen of Hearts wasn't finished playing her hand in his game.