Disclaimer: The original idea was born from the brain of coconut mandarin, who I'm totally indebted for letting me use this idea to make my own spin of this little piece of goodness. Cheers!! Don't own Naruto!
Tangerine: It's not exactly the color of his jacket, but when her father thrusts the little round fruit in her equally round face, she can't help but let out a tiny gasp, because it screams about a boy that vandalized the Hokage Mountain. Her father talked about it all night, how only a mindless, spoiled orphan could ever do something so low.
She doesn't mention the fact that he treats her like scum beneath everyone's shoes, even though she will one day ruler over the entire family. Doesn't say a word.
She tries to subtly ask the cook to pack some slices of tangerine into her lunch box at the Academy, and the older woman winks knowingly towards her, and the familiar glow returns to her cheeks, and without hesitation, her fingers spring to their familiar position of brushing against each other. Their pattern is always different; it's something to focus on.
The old lady pats her gently on the head, and as she sees the wrinkled hand, calloused from chopping vegetables and peeling fish, reaching out towards her face, she throws up both arms in front of her face, on reflex. The cook pauses, and then lets her hand drop against her glimmering hair.
It suddenly strikes her that the cook is not a Hyuuga.
The next morning, for the next three years, there are five pieces of perfectly sliced tangerine wrapped in a small napkin in her lunch. Every day.
Titian: It's the secret eye color of a boy she doesn't love, doesn't even like, but when he flashes it out in front of Rock Lee, so sure he'll win, it makes the tiny hairs on the nape of her neck tingle. The boy that isn't tangerine colored hates him, and she finds a strong urge to hate him with an equally fiery passion. It doesn't seem hard. Kiba manages just fine, and nobody judges him.
But Kiba is brave. So much braver.
So when she returns from her humiliating defeat to the hands of her own cousin, her father is understandably furious, and sets out an equally horrible punishment. He managed to find an old document, hidden away in the Hyuuga family archives. It's a contract. For a marriage, arranged since before birth.
Suddenly, titian is the ugliest color imaginable. She can't look at Sasuke Uchiha for a long, long time. Right until the day before he leaves the Village.
Vermillion: On the day her fiancée is dragged through the main gate of Konoha, she's in the hospital, visiting Kiba, who got into a rather nasty accident with a swarm of bugs. Shino later claimed to have no ties with the incident.
The color of blood on orange, disgusting as it may sound, was beautiful. The way it made that perfect shade of vermillion, quickly drying drops of the dark stains splattered across the front of his jacket. There are some on his face. It seems oddly tempting to lick them off, and she shudders to try and discard such brutal, primal urges.
She's eighteen. And never been kissed.
Carmon: Her wedding, undeniably, was beautiful. A huge, fancy, slightly ostentatious ceremony, with too much crying, and then too much drinking. Kiba, Lee, and most likely, Neji all enjoyed the refreshments a tad too much. But she hates every minute of it. Having to place her newly ringed hand upon Sasuke's, and smile and look beautiful, because the bride always looks beautiful.
She doesn't believe she's beautiful. Not today. What's beautiful is the way Temari punches Shikamaru in the arm until he dances with her on a slow song, or the way TenTen angrily berates Lee and Neji for playing strip poker. Without her.
What's not beautiful is the way the Hokage's apprentice eyes her beadily from across the room all night. Those jade eyes glare and burn twin holes into the front of her kimono, but she doesn't mind the angry laser beam looks of death.
Her kimono is indigo, to match her hair. Underneath, it's all orange.
Peach: Next to a tomato, it's Sasuke's favorite fruit, and tomato's give her hives, so they buy peaches most of the time. Her son loves them just as much, the way the fuzz rubs against his chubby baby cheek and makes him laugh, like playing with a kitten.
Their son is amazing. The Sharigan and the Byakugan, both hidden inside a pair of smoky grey eyes, is the true manifestation of the two clans. The Hyuuga family was disappointed to see that their heir was a mutt, but the joining of the two clans by the birth of their first child caused such a celebration that hadn't been seen in years. Even the Hokage attended the ceremony.
At the party for Sasuke's son, Naruto stayed slightly to the side, away from the mad partiers. Hinata held tightly onto her new baby, only releasing him to her teammates, Ino, and, after a long, thoughtful moment, Sakura. He watched as his pink teammate cradled the little boy, who blinked up at her wondrously. She seemed dangerously close to tears.
Sakura looked back at Hinata with a shaky smile, and handed back the baby quickly, brushing away the tears with the back of her hand. Sasuke stepped away from the group of people he wasn't talking to, and came to stand by his wife and child. Sakura nodded awkwardly at Sasuke, and quickly turned and walked away.
The baby started to cry.
Tangelo: When Sasuke passed away, Hinata was upset. Not completely devastated or freakishly cheerful. While he wasn't the man she loved, and never could be, he actually was kind to her and their son. The funeral was a solemn affair, and Sakura stood resolutely next to Naruto, gripping his hand tightly. Hinata clutched her toddler's hand tightly, and ran one hand over her swollen stomach. It wasn't fair.
She stopped at Sakura's tiny apartment a few days later, digging the toe of her boot into the concrete floor, and the old habit she once had of twiddling her fingers seemed strangely tempting. After a few timid knocks, the pretty rosette opened the door. Her face looked lined and pale with alack of sleep. Hinata smiled politely at her, and she held the door open for her to come in.
Inside, the apartment was dark and cold. The windows were covered by dark curtains, and Sakura hastily threw on the lights, and settle the kettle to boil water. Hinata sat awkwardly on a mismatched chair, and Sakura fixed her with a penetrating look.
"So. What brings you here? I'm sorry about Sasuke. Are you alright?" Hinata nodded and rubbed her belly self-consciously.
"I suppose. The baby seems to be fine and Kenta is too young to really understand. It was an arranged marriage, of course, you know that, but I did try to be a good wife and care about seeing him happy." Sakura fidgeted in her chair and nodded. Hinata eyed her questioningly.
"Sakura, is there something you want to tell me? Something about Sasuke?" Sakura bit her lip and buried her face into her arms on the table, muttering something incomprehensible. Hinata gave her arm a small shake.
"It's ok, you can tell me anything." Sakura shook her pink petal hair furiously and buried herself deeper into the table's cold surface. Hinata sighed resignedly and stood up slowly from the table, forgetting about the tea. Sakura looked up at her retreating figure.
"Hinata. Wait. I was with Sasuke." Hinata turned back to face her slowly, moving cumbersomely with her enormous stomach.
"Was with Sasuke when?" Sakura looked at the ground, and Hinata tapped her swollen foot impatiently. She did not have time for this.
"Six months ago. We were on a mission together, and Naruto went to go find a place to sleep for the night, and he told me he loved me. I'm sorry, I just didn't know what to do. Please, please say you don't hate me." Hinata chewed on her bottom lip and nodded, contemplating.
"Six months, eh?" Sakura nodded, viridian eyes welling up with tears. Hinata turned towards the door again.
"Sasuke never loved me. It was always about you, and I'm glad he could be happy for the last part of his life. He was happy, right?"
Sakura nodded quickly, and even though she couldn't see her, Hinata knew the answer.
But that day seemed far away as she watched her five grandchildren chase each other madly around the house she once shared with Sasuke. It had been over twenty years since he died, and she had given birth to a set of twin boys. Her oldest son walked over to her and placed a hand on her small shoulder.
"Mom? Did you ever want to marry someone besides Father?" Hinata looked taken aback, but nodded slowly. Her son looked at her expectantly for an answer, and she pointed to the Hokage Mountain, to the Rokudaime's stone face. He nodded slowly in understanding.
"He's not married to anyone, and well, neither are you. Did you ever think about trying to start something between you two?" Hinata was very still, and he shook his mother's shoulders to make sure she was alright.
Her pearly eyes flashed with delight. "You, my dear son, are a very wise boy."
The next day, in the middle of a pouring rainstorm, Hinata ran across the deserted streets of Konoha towards Naruto's house, clutching her raincoat closer to her body to try to stay dry. She stopped, panting in front of the door, and pounded on it furiously, and Naruto dodged her clenched fist, just before she almost broke his jaw.
"Hinata. What brings you to my bachelor residence?" She smiled and unfastened the buttons on her coat. Same old Naruto.
"I need to talk to you about a few personal matters. Are you busy?" He shook his head furiously and held the door open for her. The inside of his walls were all painted the palest shade of lavender.