Largesse:
"generous bestowal of gifts."
This was written for Anamariewrites; please enjoy.
On the twenty-third of every July, Sasuke wakes to visitors.
They cross the lawn with quiet feet and descend upon the house warily, minding the fruit flies which thrive in the humid midsummer air.
When they reach the door, Hyuuga Neji lifts his heavy fists to knock. At his side, Hinata draws her arms inward and tries not to take up space.
As the door slides open, she shivers and lays a basket on the ground, which Sasuke promptly sweeps up and returns inside, closing the door behind him.
Only, this year…this year is a bit different.
Sasuke has just returned from Sound. He is thinner and paler than ever before, and bears a lifetime's worth of raised white scars. There is stubble growing along his jaw, which Hinata lifts a hand to, carefully, ignoring his discomfort as he steps back, tripping slightly.
"Sasuke-san, your skin…it…"
Embarrassed, he turns her hand away and bends to pick up the basket at his feet. Laid inside it is a pile of crisp white robes and a handful of baby tomatoes. These, he examines with a sharp eye—for they are new, and have never been offered to him before.
Wedging the basket against his hip, his quietly asks them inside. Out of politeness. Out of…consideration. And formality. And thanks. —Perhaps.
Neji's mouth grows tight at the corners while he suppresses a smile. "Actually Sasuke-san, I'm afraid we don't have time this year. Perhaps if you'd asked when you were twelve…"
Sasuke flinches again and bows his head against the long flat surface of the door.
"I apologize. Maybe…maybe next year." He says softly, seeming lost.
Neji nods, satisfied, and grabs Hinata's elbow as he begins to walk away. Sasuke shields his eyes against the sun and watches as his last vestiges of family turn their backs.
----------
A week later, or perhaps two, he finds himself lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling despondently.
He remembers a time when the ceiling fan looked not so unlike Itachi's Sharingan. This disturbs him, and he winces at the thought.
In the corner of the room, the Hyuugas' gift basket sits untouched. The tomatoes are still ripe, and catch his eye without effort.
Sasuke marches to them, restless and discontent, and draws them from their resting spot, which is stained vaguely red. He lifts the ruined robe and shakes it.
A card falls out. The writing is small and cramped, and smeared with what appears to be tears. The only words he can make out are "please accept", "tomatoes" and "welcome back". All of these words make him believe it is from Hinata.
He stands in silence for a moment, unsure of what to do. …But then he hears a small clamor of rain outside, and slides the door open to listen better. Without thinking he walks outside, digs a small hole with his foot, and drops the tomatoes inside. He covers the hole, stares, and goes back to the house.
Minutes later, he is watching the ceiling again, resting stiffly on the edge of his bed.
There is more rain. Another two weeks come to pass.
----------
The weather is finally sunny when Sasuke steps outside again.
The fruit flies are still hovering, and the air is still moist with heat. The world seems to be unchanged, trapped within the sober month of July.
He grabs his kunai, laces up, and leaves the house to train. On his way to the training grounds, he spots children fighting over ice cream, and vendors selling shaved ice.
As he passes the tomato cart, he notices that his mouth feels strangely tense. A second later, he realizes that he's smiling.
Fin.