Enigma in the Dark
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Written in about an hour, while humming Trapt's Enigma in my head and looking at the lyrics. Because they fit for this couple. Ohyes.
Not my favorite thing I've written, and there isn't much reason behind it. Just an excuse to actually put these two together so they could interact. Where they're going, what they're doing weren't important to me, so those things aren't really mentioned. Takes place after 247, sometime, somewhere.
Comments and criticisms always appreciated.
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They were ambushed, the new moon hiding their enemies from sight while a clever genjutsu hid the waiting shinobi from their other senses. She never noticed, but he realized just in time to protect them, the sand flowing from the gourd and enveloping them both as kunai and explosion tags rained towards them. When the barrage ended, the sand flowed away just as quickly, and he was moving, cutting through their Chuunin enemies as though they were water. She watched him fight, giving a hand when she could, but knowing she wasn't truly needed, not for this. He could handle any fight.
And so she was surpised, as was he, when a stray kunai embedded itself in her back, through her right lung. Gasping quietly, unable to get enough air for anything else, she slumped to the ground, reaching behind to try to dislodge the sharp weapon, but her fingers kept slipping off the hilt, coming away red and sticky with her own blood. She could vaguely make out the rest of the battle, although she could hardly call it that, the way he cut down the other shinobi as though they were nothing.
Of course, to him they were nothing.
The battle was over quickly, and she coughed as the last voice—female? Male? She didn't really know and didn't think it really mattered—gave a final scream, death coming in the form of sand. Then everything was silent, and the air was cool, cold against her back as she shivered and kept trying to reach the kunai. If she could get it out, she could administer a poultice, somehow, although she was vaguely aware of the fact that if she couldn't reach the kunai, she couldn't reach the wound, either.
A faint shift in the darkness alerted her to his presence, standing over her, looking down with what she was sure would be disgust. To someone like him, a shinobi like her was useless—weak, timid. Even her Byakugan hadn't been able to help her, because of the blind spot. A shinobi with weaknesses was useless.
"I-I'm…sorry… I didn't…"
A soft rustle of cloth, movement in the grass, and his breathing was louder, his presence closer. She closed her eyes, releasing the Byakugan unconsciously, trying to hide herself.
"You were careless." It wasn't a question.
"Y-yes…"
"…Does it hurt?"
She blinked, looking up at him through her lashes, confused. But then it hit her—of course he would wonder about pain. He could probably count on one hand the number of times he'd ever felt physical pain before. And she was going to answer yes, nod her head in that timid way of hers and hide her face away, hide herself away because she wasn't worth looking at.
But something about the way he said it made her stop, her answer dying on her lips to be replaced with another.
"I…I'll be fine…"
He made a noise in the back of his throat, and she knew he knew she was lying. It was dark, and even though he didn't have special eyes to help him, he'd lived his whole life during the night, and among the blood of the injured. Her tone of voice, the way she shifted slightly in the cool grass, her labored breathing, all those were his eyes.
"Where is it?"
"W-what…?"
He sighed. "The wound."
Shaking her head, she backed up a little, wincing as pain shot through her back so sharp it took everything she had not to cry out. "No…it's ok. I'll be f-fine…"
She felt a breeze go past, cooling her skin, and then something was surrounding her, holding her where she was, tight enough that she couldn't move but not to tight as to harm her.
"Gaara-san… I said…"
"You lied."
She dropped her eyes. "But…"
He was before her again, kneeling. Close enough so he didn't have to raise his voice, but far enough away that there was no chance of accidental contact.
"We're alone out here, and it will take your companions a while before they find us after being split up. Your kage thought fit to send you on this escort, so she must see something in you that I do not. But," he leaned forward slightly, and even without moonlight she could make out the faint outline of his tattoo, "I do not tolerate lying. Of any kind."
The sand tightened slightly and she squeaked in pain, but nodded her head, biting her bottom lip. He scared her. Even after all this time, even though he was an ally to her village, he scared her. She couldn't understand him. It wasn't that he was mean, but that there was a complete lack of any kind of emotion at all.
But for him to ask her about a wound confused her, put her on guard more than the enemies he had just killed. Gaara didn't care about people, that was what she had always seen in him. Whether she lived or died were insignificant details in his life. So then why would he care if she was wounded, or if she was lying about it?
And why did she feel the need to prove she wasn't weak, when it was her own weakness that caused her injury in the first place.
"I… I understand."
Another sound in the back of his throat, and the sand loosened its grip, almost like a caress. And he didn't say anything, didn't need to say anything, and she knew he was waiting for her to answer his previous question, to see how she would respond.
She took a shuddering breath and looked at him, straight at him, for the first time ever.
"My right lung. But I can deal with it myself."
He stared right back, and she knew he could see her, no moonlight or not, special eyes or not. And she didn't drop her eyes even though every nerve, every muscle in her body screamed for her to, for her to cower away again, for her to be just plain Hinata again, as she always had been and as she always should be.
And then the sand was pulling away from her, melting off her body. She thought that was weird, because he could have just pulled it away instantly, and the feel of it, cool against her skin, made her shiver.
And then pain lanced through her back and she cried out before she could stop herself, and she just managed to see the kunai clutched in Gaara's hands before she couldn't see anything else.
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Hinata awoke before dawn, still lying where she'd passed out, cheek against the grass, lying on her belly. Her right shoulder hurt and she could barely move it, so she knew better than to try to get up. As it was, she was grateful to be alive—the kunai had pierced deep. The fact she hadn't even applied any medicines to it…
Her eyes opened wide and she engaged Byakugan, trying to find her pouch with her medicines. There was no way she could have survived the night with the wound still bleeding and a punctured lung.
She found the pouch a few feet away, too far for her to reach it, but she could tell by the way it lay against the ground that her medical kit had been removed. Scanning the area, confused and scared, she tried to find her fellow Konoha shinobi, Gaara, anyone who could tell her what happened.
The sound of footsteps made her freeze. Gaara purposely walked into her field of vision, knowing she would see him and hear him as well. He made no show to hide himself.
"Your comrades will be here soon. I saw them a few miles off."
She didn't bother questioning how he'd seen them. He wouldn't have told her anyway.
"I will wait here."
Byakugan vanished with her sharp intake of breath, and she forced herself to move, up onto her knees so she could look at him. Every move hurt, and she was sure she was bleeding internally. Her salves could heal extensive wounds, yes, but that took time and proper accompanying medical care. Both of which she hadn't had.
And from the way her clothing moved against her skin, she knew he had bandaged the wound as well.
"Why…?"
He stood with his arms folded across his chest, his mask-face impassive as always. Her medical supply kit rested by his feet, disorganized. Used.
"You looked at me." He surprised her with his answer, as casual and emotionless as everything else he said, yet different all the same. He took a step forward, then another, and even if she could move she didn't think she would have. His mask was gone, cracked, and she saw something she knew she wasn't supposed to see, not ever.
He was as human as her.
When he was a few feet from her he stopped, looking down through no-longer impassive eyes, but ones with emotions—albeit barely discernable, rarely used emotions.
"You looked at me, and you weren't scared. And…" he faltered, and she thought that was odd. The Kazekage did not falter. Gaara did not falter. "You lied at first. But the second time, you didn't."
"I…"
"I was needed."
She blinked, white eyes wide as she stared at him in what she was sure was a rude manner, but one she couldn't help. She didn't understand him. She didn't think she ever would.
"For the first time, I was needed, and not as a weapon or a tool." He knelt and looked her right in the eye, locked with her.
And she wasn't scared.
"And for the first time, you didn't want to be left alone. So I stayed."
Her eyes began to water and she bit her lip, finally able to pry her gaze away from his, and she nodded slightly to him. And he continued to sit there before her, close enough that she could touch him if she wanted, but both knew neither would ever reach out to touch the other.
They were still sitting like that when Kiba and Shino finally found them, the sun cresting the trees and driving away the darkness.