The first person he told was Chouji. There was something easy about him, trusting. He knew he'd not judge her, or ask questions she wasn't ready for. He just ate chips and said "Be what makes you happy."

The next was Shikamaru. "I already knew."
His eyes went wide. "It doesn't bother you?"
"So troublesome," he muttered, but there was no bite behind it.

Neji was an accident, pale eyes unreadable and brows furrowed as he took it all in--the flat chest, the stubble, the missing buns.

"Tenten," he began, voice flat as always.
"Neji," he reverted back, shifting as she readjusted her top, "It's not--"
"Tenten," he walked toward her.
Tears started to well up. She wished to be 12 again, before she'd realized the truth, before everything had become so complicated. "It wasn't..."
"Shut up," his voice is soft as he puts her arms around her. "Don't lie to me."
As Tenten's shoulders fill out, they begin to shake.
Neji presses their lips together, running his hands over the now-flat chest. "You don't have to."
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Tuesday's older fiction

August 2020

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