Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make no money.
Author's Note: At the dark hour, the world resets - but some things stay constant. Sasuhina drabble series, inspired by tumblr prompts for Sasuhina month 2018. Ranging in genre (though I have a penchant for angst). Rating may change. Also not adverse to taking prompts.
Midnight, in C Minor
Chapter One: Hiraeth
(n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past
"I'm home," Sasuke says as the door shuts behind him.
She doesn't answer. Hasn't answered for a month now. Condolence cards are still scattered across the kitchen table where he left them, untouched. He keeps her picture by the family altar, behind a closed door he doesn't think he may ever open again. They've already washed the red ink of his name, as the remaining living spouse (if 'living' is what he can call it), from her gravestone – but some things remain.
Things like her half-finished greenhouse out back, and her favorite porcelain tea set, and the jade hairpin Hanabi gave her on their wedding day.
Things like her old shinobi sandals, still sitting along the genkan, one on its side, both with toes pointed away from the door, as though she has just rushed home and hurriedly slipped them off before crossing over the entryway step.
His throat constricts suddenly, and he has to brace a hand to the wall, lowering himself until he sits along the step of the genkan, staring at the worn sandals.
The house is still full of her.
Tenderly – with his fine-boned, rough-knuckled hands – he reaches for the overturned sandal and rights it, turning it around so that the toes are pointed to the door. He does the same with the other one, and with the delicacy of an attentive husband, he makes them ready for Hinata.
"I'm home," he whispers again, his voice catching.
He never stops waiting for her answer.