Author's Note: Never have tried pairing Hinata and Kakashi, so this is a first attempt. It's also going to be darker, like Safe Haven type of darkness. She will be using a fake name, Himawari Hozuki, to keep running from her past as being Hinata Uzumaki. Not really Naruto bashing and he won't be all bad, but he's got his demons too. I know that Jiraiya is originally the author of the Icha Icha books, but I've taken some liberties to make this plotline work and switched things around for that purpose.

Oh yeah, and alternative universe.

Summary: AU. Hinata / Kakashi – She is the owner of a bookstore and cafe with compelling secrets and he is a famous writer, now undercover, who has lost his muse but finds one in Hinata, hoping to solve her mysteries. But somewhere, is a man who could destroy any possibility of her happiness.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or its characters. I do not own the title of the fic; that belongs to Pierce the Veil.

Bedless

'Cause you don't even know you're an angel
Foolish am I for the times I come and go
These stars defy love, so I close my eyes
And sleep inside your worn-in bed outline

-Pierce the Veil

Chapter 1

Hinata opened her eyes and waited. This was her routine every morning now; had been for the past year. It still took some getting used to, waking up alone.

Has it really been over a year? She thought, as she sleepily rolled over, trying to untangle herself from her heavy duvet. It was wonderful not having to share it with anyone. Hinata could take up the whole bed if she pleased.

Following her morning routine before she opened the store and café for the day, Hinata slipped into her worn house shoes and stumbled her way to the kitchen. There had been a time when someone else would have been awake in her house and would have already had the coffee maker going.

But not now, she mused, getting everything ready. Making a cup of coffee for herself was simple compared to orders she took downstairs in her shop. It sometimes felt as if she had learned another language. I really should get myself a pet, she thought, noting how quiet her flat seemed.

To ease the loneliness, she turned on music – a collection of arias from different operas and set about finishing her routine with coffee in hand.

There had been a time when Hinata had a love like a storybook romance. A prince that had swooped in and saved her from her family. And now? That prince had turned out to be a wicked beast in disguise.

Hinata had been forced to leave.

Don't go down that road, don't let the negative thoughts in. If she started thinking about the reasons again, the store would never open. She would be in the shower, crying and not helpful to anyone.

As she headed back to her bedroom, she passed a photo of an ultrasound. Putting her index and middle finger to her lips, Hinata pressed them against the glass of the photo and continued on.

That was nearly two years ago, Hinata thought. It took everything in her not to cry. That had been some of why she had to leave.

"I love you and only you," his voice rang in her ears as she dressed. If that had been the case, then why hadn't it worked? Why hadn't Naruto been able to truly love her?

She thought she had been enough, that starting a family with her would be enough.

But it wasn't.

When she had fallen down the steps and lost the baby, things were put in perspective.

"But I have a good perspective now," Hinata said as she brushed out her hair. She repeated it over and over with each stroke.

Her hair was short now, like it had been when she was a teenager. It framed her face, long tendrils hanging down with blunt-cut fringe, but it was pixie short in the back, up off of her neck. The same hairstyle she had worn when she was invisible to Naruto.

Hinata locked up her flat and headed downstairs to open the shop. It was her one pride and joy now. It would be another hour before the doors actually opened, but there was much to do. She had to restock the shelves, prep the coffee machines, count the register out and any other menial tasks Hinata could find to keep her mind busy.

Very rarely did Hinata have help. She just couldn't trust another worker not to run to Naruto, not to betray her.

Most of her old friends had looked down at her for leaving. They didn't know what kind of man he was deep down. The man that he hid from everyone, except her.

Hinata wasn't sure why she couldn't let these thoughts go this morning; why it kept coming up. Was it because it had been a year?

Happy anniversary to me, she thought bitterly, as she arranged the new young adult books.

There was a knock on the front door.

Wiping her hands on her pants, Hinata's feet whispered across the floor. Most customers knew not to come this early.

She peeped around the design on the glass.

A man was standing there, looking up at her faded sign, hands stuffed deep down in his pockets. He was so nonchalant that Hinata wondered if she had heard the knock in the first place.

Silver hair stuck up in almost a wayward spray on the side of his head. He was dressed head to toe in black, even a black mask pulled up over the lower half of his face to the bridge of his nose. He looked like some sort of assassin.

Naruto might be over the top, but this?

Against her better judgement, Hinata found herself opening the door just a crack.

"Um, yes?" she asked.

"Hm?" He looked directly at her with the most piercing, heavy-lidded grey eyes.

"Can I help you?" Her voice was small but firm.

"I came to see if you had any jobs available."

"Not right now." She started to close to the door on him.

"Well, I was actually recommended here, by the florist down the block. She said that sometimes you will hire if she approves them first?"

Hinata could have slapped her forehead. Ino was up to her usual tricks again. Apparently, she had taken a liking to this man. Ino and Hinata were some kind of friends, although Hinata wasn't sure what kind.

However, Ino's recommendations in workers had actually not been bad. Just very short-lived.

With his mask up, Hinata couldn't tell much about his face. However, he didn't appear nearly as elderly as his hair suggested. She allowed her eyes a moment to rake over his form, taking in toned muscles and slender hips. If she looked any closer, Hinata could just see a faint definition in his abs.

Well, she supposed she couldn't blame Ino. For an older man, he was very good looking, at least the parts she could see. What was he hiding under that mask?

"Do you have any experience with books?" Hinata asked. "Or coffee."

"Both. I have a lot of experience with both. I'm an aspiring writer and I make coffee several times a day."

There was a lightness and good humor to his voice that Hinata found pleasing to her ear. If he was going to hurt her, wouldn't he have done it by now?

It was difficult to tell if he was smiling beneath the mask, but his eyes crinkled at the edges in a gesture of good humor.

"I suppose I could interview you," Hinata said, opening the door a little wider.

"Thank you," he said, stepping forward.

"W-what is your n-name?"

She had been fine until he had stepped closer. It was one thing to invite him, it was quite another for him to actually take her up on it.

"Hatake Kakashi," he told her. She noted that he had stopped when she had stuttered.

"Oh." She pulled the door open a little wider, so that at least he wouldn't brush too close to her. Being touched, by anyone, still bothered her. Naruto had been...

It took a second or two for Hinata to realize the man had been speaking to her.

"Pardon?" she asked, blinking away the memories.

"Nice shop. I've always seen the outside but I've never been inside," he said. His voice was smooth, laid back.

"Mm." She directed him over to a couple of the tables she had set up in the café part of the store. "Just have a seat and I'll be right back."

Hinata hurried into the office, making sure the door was locked when she entered, during her visit, and then when she returned just in case he wasn't really there for a job as he had originally said. Upon returning, Hinata experienced a little shock to find him still sitting there.

Had she been expecting him to leave after all? Or maybe to be a figment of her imagination?

Sadly, it would not have been the first time. Hinata had imagined sounds and shadowy figures in the store or her flat when she was alone. It wasn't her location that was haunted, but her mind.

In the last year, these imaginations had dropped off somewhat. She was miles away, living under an assumed name, and Naruto had not found her yet.

Turning her mind now to work, she began to interview Kakashi.

XX

Kakashi knew his last novel had been a colossal flop when he had found it in a discount store, further discounted. Part way through the novel, his mentor and pen name had died suddenly so his heart just wasn't in the plot line. Every word had felt like rote. His agent, Umino Iruka, had been enthused and did his best. Ultimately, it came down to the writer.

"At least copies are still selling," Iruka enthused during one of their business lunches. "And you're still getting royalties from those movie deals."

Kakashi had "hmm"ed and picked at his salad, regretting not getting a burger instead. It wasn't as much about the money for him; Kakashi didn't require much other than a flat, chow for his eight dogs, and groceries. He lived very simply, because the writing was much more a craft.

At his book tours, Iruka had let Jiraiya act as a stand-in for him. And now Jiraiya was dead. Kakashi's heart ached with the memory, the terrible phone call in the middle of the night, going through his estate because there was no one else left.

Desperate for plotlines, Kakashi went strolling around the town late at night to think. Iruka had told him maybe a change of pace for his next novel would get him out of his slump. All his previous books had centered around a sordid love affair with gratuitous amounts of smut. He was hungry for something different.

The bookstore had caught his eye when he strolled by at near closing one night. The woman working the counter particularly drew his eye; there was something at once beautiful and haunted about her as she served coffee to waiting customers. Her sad smiles told him there was something boiling just below that soft surface, something compelling.

Kakashi had seen that look before, on women who had been seriously aggrieved by someone they loved. Something terrible had happened to this woman in the past and it still lurked below the surface. Here was his story.

That night he had rushed home to his apartment on the other side of the town and called Iruka. It didn't matter that his agent had been sleeping soundly.

"I found my story," Kakashi had blurted out.

"What?" had come Iruka's groggy reply. "Who is this?"

Kakashi had proceeded to tell him the rough outline of the plot; very rough indeed because he only knew that the bookstore woman had looked very compelling but he hadn't thought much about a plot in which to place her yet.

"I want to write something a little more dramatic. She's a woman whose husband died and she opens a bookstore to keep her mind busy during the day. But at night, she's not resting well because in her dreams she is able to bring a version of her husband to life each time. But each time, he gains more power over her and she loses power, until the transformation is complete. He's alive and now she's dead. Only, when he was alive, he was very unfaithful to her while she was good woman who didn't deserve to die."

It was a plot completely off the cuff and Kakashi knew probably before he even got off the phone it would change again. His mind was racing.

"Kakashi, I understand dramatic, but that sounds depressing," Iruka groaned. "And I think it's been done before."

"And the Icha Icha books hadn't been?" Kakashi shot back.

"Fair enough. But Kakashi, it's still depressing. Do you have to go to such complete lengths to get away from your other series? What about giving it a happy ending? They have a half-life together?"

Kakashi just "hmm"ed into the phone again but said he would consider the change.

"Good. Then let me get back to sle-"

"I might need to work in a bookshop to get a feel for the business," Kakashi added, his mind already trying to write the novel.

"What? Why? Can't you google that stuff?"

"I suppose, but it would have a more authentic feel if I had experience."

"If it will get you writing again, then we can find out in the morning. Can I get my rest now? I've got a bad case of jet lag."

"Fine." They had hung up quickly. That night, Kakashi had begun drafting the rough draft, but as he had predicted, the storyline had already changed. He knew the woman, at least the version of her he was using in the story based on the real-life muse, had to be central.

Staying up a good part of the night to write was maybe not the best idea. Iruka had called him first thing in the morning, around seven. Kakashi had woken from his spot in front of his laptop, neck cricked from sleeping at a strange angle when he had finally dozed off mid-sentence.

"Meet me at the flower shop," Iruka had directed.

"I didn't think we were friends like that," Kakashi had teased, rubbing his stubble and deciding he could go one more day without shaving if he wore his mask. "You're not proposing, are you?"

Iruka said something rather rude down the phone.

"Okay, which flower shop?" Kakashi asked.

"There is only one flower shop in town," Iruka told him through gritted teeth. "I know the girl that works there. She'll know how to get you a job."

As it turned out, Kakashi had to hand it to Iruka. The woman who worked the flower shop, Ino, had known exactly how Kakashi could try to get a job.

"We're friends," she said. "But Himawari is like a flower with a bent stem. Be careful with her and she'll grow. Push too hard, too fast, and she'll break."

Perfect, Kakashi had thought. Just like the main character of a novel was supposed to be.

Which, through being careful, was how Kakashi currently found himself sitting in front of his muse, being interviewed. Up close, she was even more lovely than he had thought from the sidewalk.

Beautiful lavender eyes. Yes, his character would share those.

Short, choppy almost blue-black hair. It looked as if had been more of a dark, plum color too, judging by the visible roots. He might make it longer on his main character, but not by much because he thought shorter hair was cute.

Creamy, porcelain-like skin, just begging to be stroked beneath the thumbpad of some minor, secondary character that was only a distant memory.

Lips, the same color and shape as petals. Aching to be kissed by a hero.

How had he slipped into Icha Icha mode again?

Because, this muse, like any other was a beautiful creature.

XX

Hinata thanked Kakashi for coming into the shop and let him know that she would be in contact about the job once the background check came back.

After he had left and the door was locked once more, she looked over his answers again. Nothing stuck out to her as suspicious. His handwriting was neat and tidy, his answers intelligent.

The mask worried her a little bit, but then again, she had her own secrets too. Perhaps it was even for something as innocent as adult acne or scary large lips.

Her gut told her that he would be fine to work in her shop. During the entirety of his visit, she had not felt the pressing anxiety or overwhelming sense of stomach-turning unease that some of her potential hires had induced.

Quite the opposite. Mr. Hatake had moved slowly and gently, his voice smooth and sure. Hinata rather felt like she was visiting with an old friend instead of a stranger. He really had been as non-threatening as a scarecrow in a field, as his name suggested.

Hinata dialed Ino, first to check out his story and, if it was true, get her take on the situation.

"Oh hey, you aren't a customer. I can guess what you're calling about Himawari," Ino laughed.

It was still, even after a year, weird to hear herself referred to as Hozuki Himawari. It had been the name of a girl much younger than her who had disappeared without a trace around the town where Hinata had grown up.

Hinata knew it had been a risk, but she couldn't have kept going as Uzumaki Hinata either, and her maiden name Hyuga was out because they were pretty well-known. She loved the name Himawari; it was a name she had been hoping to use for her daughter, should she ever have one.

In an act of desperation, after managing to escape, Hinata had reached out to Himawari's parents. They must have noted the despondency in her voice, in her face, because the wife had given her blessing for Hinata to continue on under her daughter's name.

Hinata supposed it also hadn't hurt that she had been covered in fresh and healing bruises, with small cuts peppered in. With her new identity in place, she had fled further, secure in the knowledge that it would be more difficult to track her then.

"Yeah, about that," Hinata said.

"What did you think? I thought he was kinda dreamy myself. He comes highly recommended through an acquaintance of mine," Ino added.

"Kinda dreamy? You can't see his face!" she protested.

"Adds to the mystery I find. But, I think he would draw customers in."

Hinata had to agree. She had been taken in. But a deeper, more secret part of herself also added that she might have been taken in already. Naruto had seemed so nice…well had been nice…was still nice…

"Sorry," she apologized, knowing that her mind had been off on a road trip down memory lane without her permission.

"That's okay Himawari. I would drift off myself too, well if I didn't have Sai to keep me company." Sai was Ino's artist boyfriend. Hinata wasn't overly fond of him, because it seemed that standard social mores were lacking when it came to hanging out with him. "How about this, I get him checked out for you. I have quick connections down at the police station, and when he checks out, you hire him and see what happens."

"Okay," Hinata reluctantly agreed before they hung up so she could open the store for the day. Her stocking would just have to done around customers. Maybe, she really did need some help.

XX

Author's End Note: Hope you enjoy, please leave a comment if this tickles your fancy!