Have Faith: Hinata/Naruto: In which Naruto visits Hinata in the infirmary after the after Neji injures her in the Chuunin Exams.

A/N: So this is kind of a time-switch-mix-up, cuz I know that Hinata was already healed before Naruto even fought with Neji, because she was the one to encourage him to do well, anyway. Or something like that. PS, I hate my title. But anyway, fluffiness ahead, so remember to review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

The door creaks open and instantly, she buries herself underneath comforter, curling on her side as her knees rise to her chest.

It's Kurenai. It has to be Kurenai, coming to see her, to speak to her, to comfort her and . . . she does not want to be reassured, because strangely, whenever one attempts to soothe her, it makes her feel worse, makes her want to cry for the reason that she has failed and needs to be consoled.

She doesn't have to be reassured. She's lost physically because Neji-nii-san has always been stronger than her, but she believes that she's hit him harder mentally with her words.

She doesn't have to be cheered up, because in her eyes, it is a tie, even though she is the one lying in the infirmary, aching all over and coughing up blood.

She doesn't feel like having a talking-to right now, doesn't feel like anyone trying to change her way of thinking, though she is sure that her sensei probably won't . . . . She's just too exhausted.

She pretends to be asleep.

"Oi, Hinata?"

And just like that, she stiffens, her breath hitching in her throat as the boyish timbre of his voice echoes throughout her ears. If she has been faking sleep before, she is currently forging death.

It is hot under the blankets now, since her entire body is prickling with the sensation of being on fire.

Oh, Kami.

She bites down on her lower lip, longing to see him, but at the same time, wanting for him to go away. He shouldn't see her like this, weaker and even more pathetic that she usually is around him.

"Pssst, Hinata-chan?" His hushed voice is closer now, perhaps at the other end of her bed and she hugs herself as tightly as she squeezes her eyes shut. "You're not really asleep, are you?"

She sinks deeper beneath her sheets.

"Or maybe you are; if I'd been in as much pain as you had, I'd probably be passed out, too."

"But . . ." His hand . . . through the quilt, she can sense its warmth as it rests on her shoulder. It takes her all to resist the instinctive shudder that threatens to quake her body with the electric jolt of his touch. "Just so you know, the gig's up cuz I can totally tell that you're awake."

By now, she is embarrassed beyond belief. She has never been an exceptional actress (because apparently, her act at being asleep has failed), but even so, she rises slowly into a sitting position with fluttering eyelashes and a yawn, hoping to pull off the impression that she has just arisen.

"N-Naruto-kun? W-What are you doing here?" That, she is not faking. She truly wonders.

"Oh." He cocks his head and wrinkles his nose in a style so endearing that she loses her breath. "Coulda sworn you weren't really sleeping . . . ."

She shifts into a different position in her bed, one that won't make her feel to flustered and breathless, but the movement causes her to wince as her heart throbs in a painful manner completely opposite so the way it usually does when she's around Naruto.

Perhaps her small gasp is too loud, or the face that she makes when the taste of rusty metal reaches the back of her throat isn't veiled well enough because . . . instantly, his sapphire eyes narrow with concern.

"Maybe I should've just left you asleep," he mumbles thoughtfully, running a hand through the unruliness of his blond hair as he studies her numerous bandages.

"No!" She exclaims it almost too quickly. She wants him to stay, suddenly wants him to talk to her, to say what he'd actually come to her to say. Despite her aching, she's brimming with joy. Naruto wants to talk to her. "I-It's f-fine, Naruto-kun . . . I was having trouble getting to sleep, a-anyway . . . ." There's too much pain, too many sharp stitches of agony bolting up her spine, running along every nerve in her body so that she can't find a comfortable arrangement to lie.

"S-So," she steadily exhales, absently poking her index fingers together, "d-do you need s-s-something of me, N-Naruto-kun?"

He leans in close and extends an arm, so that she can see the palm of his hand. "Oh, yeah, look, Hinata-chan, I just washed it, but if you look closely enough, you can sorta tell what's been there."

She's rather disappointed that this is all that he wants— has to say to her, but nods slowly and inclines toward him nonetheless, squinting at the underside of his hand.

It's tan, thick and boyish with a healthy rosiness. But if she peers at it, really peers at it while tilting her head this way and that, in between the creases and ridges of his palm, she can notice little pieces of a sort of dark crimson residue crusted onto his hand.

Surely it's not . . . .

"B-Blood?" she whispers, utterly confused. She doesn't get why he's showing her this, what it has to do with her.

He smiles at her, his fingers curling into a fist as he pumps it through the air. "Exactly! And it's yours, cuz, well . . . you remember your match?"

She nods uncertainly because of course she remembers her match. She's lost (but they've tied) and that's what she's lying here for, isn't it and . . . and suddenly, she recalls that moment before she's lost herself in the depths of her unconsciousness . . . that moment where he swoops down, azure eyes gleaming with determination and agitation as he swipes a hand through her blood (her bloody phlegm that she's heaved out of her lungs), glaring defiantly up at her cousin. He growls an oath through bared teeth: he swears to defeat Neji . . . for her.

But . . . but that must have been hours ago, maybe even days, and she figures that maybe he would have liked to wash his hands. Only . . . he has just washed his hands. He's just told her so.

She flushes the reddest of the reds, croaking quietly, "Y-You d-d-didn't have to do that N-Naruto-kun." She averts her gaze, lip between her teeth. You didn't have to wear my blood like that . . . .

She imagines that it's disgusted him, and that he's probably wished right afterward that he hasn't did that, that he hasn't vowed something so dangerous . . . until she remembers that he is Naruto-kun who does not go back on his word, who does not give up.

His nindo is precious to her. It's something that they share.

"Yeah, but I want— needed to." His eyes scan her body up and down and she fidgets, her temperature rising. "He was cruel to you and his words didn't make any sense." His thumb rises to his hitai-ate and jabs it right in the middle. "Because I'm not a failure anymore, am I?"

She responds immediately, utmost earnestly, "No, Naruto-kun; you're not."

To her, he never has been. To her, he is the exact definition of fortitude and resilience. He is courage and strength. He is the light in a dark world. Her savior and so much more.

His mouth lifts up in one corner. "Thanks for that, Hinata-chan." He brought his hand into the air again. "And . . . the reason why I only washed your blood off until now was to remember my swear to myself and to you. Every time I would glance at my hand, I'd work even harder to achieve my goal!" He's staring at his own closed fist. "I bet you can guess why I finally washed it."

She inspects him closely, noting how he's just bursting with . . . joy. As he continues to bounce on his toes, his charming smile stretches and brightens an extra ten watts until it's difficult to make out the scars on his cheeks.

It makes her thrilled as well . . . just seeing him happy . . . . It makes her heart accelerate, makes it soar from underneath her ribs . . . .

"Why?" The question leaves her lips in a breath, soft with anticipation.

"I did it, Hinata."

And as soon as he utters those words, looking as if he wants to leap onto her bed and jump up and down, she takes a sharp intake of oxygen and stammers, "H-Huh?" even though he's practically screamed it to the world.

"I beat him! I beat Neji!" He's skipping around the room while she watches him blankly. He's defeated Neji . . . in the Chuunin Exams. Neji was defeated . . . Naruto won. He won. He won. He won . . .

. . . for them.

"Y-You . . . did?" She isn't sure what she's feeling inside of her chest, but . . . there's delight, sheer delight . . . she's so glad that he's accomplished his goal . . . . However, she feels guilty. Shouldn't she be sad that her cousin's lost? Shouldn't she feel remorseful?

"Yeah!" He chirrups lightly, but then he stops in mid-somersault and searches her face, his eyebrows low and bright eyes downcast. He looks at her as if he doesn't know her, as if she's just claimed that she hates him and that they aren't friends. "What . . . you don't believe it?"

It's horrifying to have him give her that gaze. "N-No! N-Naruto-kun, o-of course I b-b-believe it!" The instant that leaves her mouth and rings throughout the room, she cowers underneath her bangs, thoroughly embarrassed. But she's not afraid to add: "I-I'll . . . always believe you . . . ."

He's in front of her before she can even blink, peering into her eyes, searching for a reason to trust her. At last, he snickers, "Of course you will. You're my friend and I am preeety, freakin' amazing!"

"But," his eyes are soft all over, smiling softly, gleaming softly with their soft color. "I think I'm gonna cut down on the 'believe it' thing for awhile . . . ."

She tilts her head to the side in slight confusion, moistening her lips with her tongue. "H-How come?" Because she loves it when he says it, she loves it when he announces his confidence like that, loves it because she believes him every time.

"Well," he stretches the word, resting an index finger thoughtfully on his chin, "It's kinda redundant, don't'cha think, to say it when I've got people like you who already do."

He grins at her and her heart melts, the heat of it shooting up to warm her face. She's pretty certain she's wearing a smile of her own, and it's nothing short of goofy.

"What is it?" He narrows his eyes teasingly at her and asks, "You think I didn't know what a word like redundant meant? Yeah, well, Kakashi-sensei told me!"

"N-No." She shakes her head, fighting to stop her smile. "It's not that. It's just that . . ." She lowers her head. " . . . y-you don't have to change . . . ." I like you the way you are . . . .
"Nah, it's fine." He regards her a moment, as if pondering whether to say something. "Because y-you know . . . the believe it stuff was mostly to boost my own confidence . . . ." He offers her a wistful expression. "Cuz if I didn't believe it, who else would, Hinata-chan?"

Her gaze on him does not waver. He's right. Perhaps the word 'Hokage' and 'Naruto' in a sentence would seem like the weirdest sentence to her years ago, if he has not claim that he will be Hokage and has not strived for it.

"So really, it's fine. Because you believe in me, and Kakashi-sensei and my whole squad does too."

She doesn't know why he's sharing all of this with her, doesn't know why he deems her important enough to listen to his insecurities and deepest secrets.

Quite abruptly, the door swings open and in storms an angry nurse, flailing her arms in frustration. "Agh, it's you again, you little worm! I already told you that you couldn't see this patient, but you broke in anyway! Shoo! Get out of here!"

She ushers him out the door as he screams over his shoulder, "Oh, yeah, um, get well soon, Hinata! Bushy Brows told me that we were alike and I totally get it now!" He gives her a rushed thumbs up and his voice trails down the hall. "We're both awesome . . . !"

The door closes behind the both of them and she slips further beneath the bed covers with a blush.

They are alike? Her and Naruto? Maybe . . . maybe that was why he has trusted her with his opinions and secrets. Because . . . they are alike, they share the same nindo, they are both determined, yet underestimated and . . . they both will follow their dreams. They both will succeed.