Warnings are wildly AU, language, and self-harm. x indicates flasback. I'm sure this is beyond OOC, for both Hinata and Gaara, and I know - oh hell, just read it.
It's coming out fairly long, so I've broken it up into multiple chapters. Updates will be frequent. This will most likely be three parts.
Feedback is, as ever, greatly appreciated.
These fickle, fuddled words confuse me
Like, will it rain today?
Waste the hours with talking, talking
These twisted games we're playing
We're strange allies with warring hearts
What a wild-eyed beast you'll be
The space between the wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain
But will I hold you again?
Will I hold?
But the space between where you're smilin' high
Is where you'll find me if I get to go
The space between the bullets in our firefight
Is where I'll be hiding, waiting for you
The rain that falls splash in your heart
Ran like sadness down the window into your room
The space between our wicked lies
Is where we hope to keep safe from pain
The space between your heart and mine...
She was thinner than the last time he had seen her. It'd been months, of course, and she'd obviously been on the road- - Lady Tsunade had mentioned a mission that would have taken the Hyuuga heiress and her team away from civilization for at least three weeks - -and was showing the signs that even the most prim kunoichi couldn't hide after that much hard work.
He really detested his role of host, but as the Kazekage and closest ally of the Leaf, he had no choice but to make an appearance at the dinner held in honor of those on their way back to Konoha. His discerning gaze kept falling on her face, and aside from her weight, he noticed other very apparent oddities. No longer did she, as she always used to, drop her eyes when somebody talked to her. There wasn't the usual blush crawling across her cheeks and neck at the merest mention of her, either positive or negative in nature. Instead, her pale eyes looked directly through those speaking to her or about her, and her chin was lifted in a stubborn, defiant way, as though daring anybody to come closer. The aura around her was like the edge of a knife.
This was most certainly not the Hinata Hyuuga he had known for years now. Although their relationship, when viewed on the grander scale, was nothing more than formalities; Naruto of course spoke highly of her, and when he did happen to be visiting the Leaf village, he took residence at the Hyuuga estate. They'd talked, of course, on multiple occasions; in-depth discussions about their respective villages, their training and teammates. Nothing more, if he was honest, than the banter that all ninja, when coming across comrades, shared. Although if he really stopped to think about it, aside from Uzumaki, Hinata was the one other Leaf ninja he knew best. Aside from all that, however, they were nothing more than political allies, ninja working toward the same cause, fighting on the same side.
Unless...but he really doubted that his words could have had such impact on her. After all, she was nearly a jonin now, a skilled and deadly ninja who, though possessing (at the time anyway, Gaara mused) a soft temperament, would no doubt go on to do great things for her village and her clan, as only an heiress could. He couldn't very well accept Lord Hiashi's proposal of a marriage between- - it was just so absurd that he should suggest - -and at Hinata's age - -
"Gaara!" Like a flash, Temari appeared at his side, her eyes narrowed. "Have you been debriefed by the mission leader?" Leave it to Temari to remind him of his abhorred duties. What business was it of his what missions the Leaf took on? But protocol was protocol, and if any harm happened upon Suna in pursuit of Hinata and her team, regardless of how qualified they were for their line of duty, it would be on his shoulders...and for the Kazekage, ignorance most certainly was not bliss.
"Can't you -" Gaara began, but Temari's glare cut him off, and she returned to her spot behind the ponytailed Nara genius, a slight smirk on the corner of her lips the only sign that her usual ill-temper was, for the moment at least, sated.
With an inward sigh, Gaara stood from the head of the table, his green eyes coming to land on Hinata's end. He raised a red eyebrow at her empty seat, slightly impressed (because as Gaara of the Desert he'd never be unnerved) that he'd neither seen nor heard her leave the table.
"She retired for the evening," the medic, Haruno, Gaara remembered, said, noticing his searching eyes. "She hasn't been herself lately, you know." Gaara wondered if there was a suggestion in her voice, or if he was over-analyzing a teammate's professional opinion.
"Reminds me of somebody else I know," Shikamaru drawled, turning away from Temari for a moment, "when a certain...ah, silver-haired sensei isn't around..."
Sakura raised her fist menacingly, a pressure point in her forehead beginning to throb. Gaara pinched the bridge of his nose; when had his life become so...so...
"Troublesome?" Shikamaru ventured toward Gaara, giving one of his shoulders a lazy shrug. "Ask myself the same thing every day." He said, tilting his head toward Temari.
Gaara turned away, hearing a loud THUNK and a muffled groan, and he sighed again as he knew he'd be the one footing the bill for repair on Temari's fan (it wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last time she'd put a man-sized dent in her precious weapon, as Kankuro would attest). Just another one of the many perks of being Kazekage...
Not that he was complaining. Really, it was an ideal job for him, and he truly wanted to protect the Sand and its people with his life. He was powerful enough, of course, and he'd been born into the trade, so to speak. At the end of the day, he simply didn't trust anybody else, aside from Temari and Kankuro, to serve with the level of commitment and loyalty that he did.
He couldn't call it compassion, exactly. He wasn't sure he could feel anything anymore, though his value on the lives of others had certainly risen over the years. He'd always be a freak, housing a monster. No title or amount of political standing could change the past, could change what stories were whispered behind the hands of the villagers who remembered his childhood. He knew the gossip and rumors would follow him to his grave. They didn't necessarily matter, other than instilling in him a stronger will to prove what extents he would go to for his people.
He rounded a darkened corner, stiffening. The coppery smell of blood permeated his senses, the metallic taste of it settling on his tongue; it was thick and pure and almost tantalizing. His pace quickened, and he followed the surrounding scent through two doors, into a small apartment of sorts. He came to a stop outside another door, closed, the chinks of light under the door the only indication that anybody aside from himself was there at all.
He roughly pushed the lock, easily breaking it with an infusion of his chakra. He stood there, shocked and unmoving as he had never been in his entire life.
oooo
x
"There are worse things to have for a husband than a Kazekage," Hinata countered, rolling a piece of pork between her chopsticks.
Neji shrugged. It mattered little to him, as long as Hinata was consenting, who Lord Hiashi had chosen for her husband. After all, A Hyuuga would have pick of the litter, as Kiba had so eloquently put it. "As long as you wish it."
"Well I think it's romantic," Hanabi said, a dreamy look in her eyes. "I mean, when it comes to arranged marriages, it sure as hell could be a lot worse...he's so mysterious and for real Hinata, he's gorgeous."
Hinata shrugged. She certainly didn't disagree with her sister, but she had little desire to egg her on. Besides, that particular aspect of Gaara wasn't, to her at least, what spurred this decision on. But Hanabi wouldn't be able to understand that yet. Neji perhaps; she'd seen the way her cousin looked at TenTen when he thought nobody else was paying attention.
"I'll be leaving on a mission this evening," Neji said, his hand reflexively rubbing his new ANBU tattoo. "So if the negotiations don't go well..."
Hinata smiled at his concern. "I'll be able to handle it, Neji. Father is on my side, after all."
Neji gave a single nod. "There is no reason the Kazekage should refuse you. Our clan is of the highest, the purest, ninja. The Hyuuga heiress is the most fitting bride for the leader of the Sand."
Hinata warmed at his words, for she too felt they were true.
x
Right now, the blood didn't send him into a frenzy; he'd never felt so far away from his past self. The sight before him, the porcelain Hyuuga drenched in her own misery, left him hollow and disgusted. Even a monster like him felt the need, the desire, to protect her.
She was beautiful, as he'd known since the first time he'd seen her, years ago in Konoha. Her skin was smooth and aside from the usual signs of combat that all ninja bore, flawless. Her blue-black hair fell over her shoulders and down her back, the contrast between its darkness and the near-whiteness of her skin nearly artistic. He'd be lying if he said he'd never picture her naked - he was still a man, and not a blind one. Hinata Hyuuga was by far one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. And yet, her eyes...he'd always thought that's where most of her light was, and in turn, her beauty. But now, they were...dead. Like she'd completely shriveled up emotionally and was robotically going through the motions of being alive.
Hinata didn't look over at him. He doubted she knew he was even there. All she could see, could feel, was the kunai gripped in her hand, held tightly as if it were her life line. The cuts were easy to hide under her usual jacket, he guessed. Two long ones down her arms, and if he looked close enough, he could see a linear scar, used as the guide for when she...Gaara swallowed thickly as his stomach threatened to convulse. There was one along her stomach as well, and if anything, the stark red of her blood accentuated how thin she was.
Her hips were sharp, bones protruding and looking almost, he thought, painful, the skin over them stretched taught. He could nearly count each of her ribs, and her breasts, though at once, he remembered, much larger, did not do her the justice they once had. Her legs were long, though not retaining even a whisper of the muscle tone they used to. Her knees looked ready to give out any second, and her ankles were as sharp as her hips. No woman, especially a kunoichi, should look like this. They should be strong and firm and well-fed, capable of standing their ground and even, as Temari often told him, easily filling out the slinkiest of outfits.
Ninja should never be weak. They should never be shells of their former selves. They shouldn't look as though a mere gust of wind could be the end of them.
And most of all, they should never be, in one word, defeated.
oooo
x
"Your training," Gaara indicated the training grounds below them, where multiple teams of ninja were gathered, working hard under the strain of a usual day, "is impressive, Hyuuga-san."
Hinata smiled. "How many times do I have to ask you to call me Hinata?"
Their eyes met, Hinata hurriedly looking away. "At least once more, as always, Hyuuga-san."
Hinata sighed. Gaara would always be formal around her...possibly he felt she would want to keep the distance between them. She had, after all, witnessed him at his worst, at his most terrible...but she lived with men as cruel as Gaara once was. Perhaps it was because, as Kurenai had always tried to instill in her, she wanted to give everybody a second chance, that she'd tried to befriend the Kazekage. He'd just seemed so...so lonely, really, and if there was anything Hinata understood, it was the crushing, suffocating cage of loneliness.
"My team has been very good to me."
His arms folded across his chest as ever, Gaara remained impassive. "I didn't say anything about your team."
Hinata's silvery eyes widened. Surely he, the Kazekage, wasn't suggesting that she and she alone was impressive. How could he notice something like that when her own father, her flesh and blood, refused to acknowledge the sweat and tears and strain she always pushed herself to?
The branch they were perched on - Gaara preferred to scale along the trees, as he was without them in his own village - swayed in the wind, the only sound now against the distant clash of kunai and shuriken and fists, the rustling of the leaves. Hinata swallowed thickly as she became acutely aware of how close Gaara was standing to her; his presence was like fire, hot sand burning her through her clothes and she thought that if she looked at him right now, she might just flashback to her former self and fall from the tree top in a dead faint.
x
oooo
His hands were on her. Covered in her blood. In her weakness...she jolted, as though realizing for the first time that he was really there. No, no no no no no. Not this, not now, not him.
She pushed against him with all her strength, but his hands were enclosed around her arms, steel-like in their grip and in this state, no matter how desperate she was, there was no winning against Gaara of the Desert.
How would she explain this? How could she? It wasn't...he wouldn't understand. And he wouldn't care, it wasn't like he loved her or needed or even wanted to be by her side, and she...
"No." His voice, low and precise, washed over her, paralyzing her as she gripped the kunai again. "Not this. Not while I'm here."
And he said the words with such possessiveness that she faltered. She looked up at him, his green, green eyes focused on her wounds. What was he doing here, anyway? Her heart leapt as, for a split-second, she entertained the possibility that he'd gone looking for her because he was worried about her.
"This wasn't a part of your mission." Gaara stated, and Hinata's stomach fell. Of course. The mission. She was team leader and he would have needed to speak to her about what had happened...
She struggled again, and his grip tightened. "I'm no healer, but I think I can at least manage the bleeding, but you'll need to stand still." He said, his voice pelting against her like a stand storm. His eyes came to land on hers, and she felt giddy, light-headed as he really saw her, now, could tell what she was thinking and how she held, really, no concern for herself.
"What happened...Hinata?"
oooo
x
"You're joking, right?" Temari said, leaning against her fan. "My brother?"
Hinata blushed. "H-h-he's quite...I m-mean, recently he h-h-has..."
Temari laughed. "Don't sweat it, Hyuuga. I understand...I think." Temari's eyes roved over the heads of those present, coming to land on Shikamaru, who was currently engaged in a shougi match with Kakashi. It was difficult to say right now who had the upper hand, as Sakura was at Kakashi's arm, declaring loudly what an idiot he was and if he wasn't going to play the game properly, he could crawl back into the hole of an apartment he lived in and let her do things the right way.
"She does too, obviously." Temari said with another laugh, as Sakura all-but shoved Kakashi away from the board. "Anyway. Gaara needs somebody like you. You can be soft enough with him, and I gather you've lived your life with difficult men." Temari gestured in the vague direction of the Hyuuga estate with one hand, and toward the end of the park where Shino, Hana, and Kiba were hanging out with the other.
"Do you think...w-will he...?"
Temari shrugged. "I think you're the closest Leaf ninja to him...aside from that knucklehead, anyway. And Gaara knows that, eventually, he'll have to make a good marriage with a top-ranking girl. Better a ninja, so she can understand his line of work. And your family...well, I'm fairly sure your dowry will benefit the Sand in a way it desperately needs right now."
Hinata nodded; she'd been hoping that the considerable amount of money her father was planning to give to her when she became engaged would be a swaying token as well.
"But what I really want to know is why." The humor had left Temari's voice, now, and she looked at Hinata with a serious, interrogative glint in her eye. Right now, Temari was nothing more than a sister concerned about her younger brother.
Hinata lifted her chin, taking a deep swallow. No stuttering, no blushing, and certainly no faltering. Now was the time to convince Temari that she could be, that she was, right for her brother. "He...understands me. He notices me. I feel that around him, I can truly speak. I'm not...drowning in a cage, and I'm not an unworthy parasite. I am strong and capable and he realizes that part of me. I'm not an heiress in name only, something to be ashamed of and hidden away, like a dirty rug shoved under the bed."
"Very convincing. So what you're saying is -"
"He sees me. And nobody ever looks twice at Hinata Hyuuga." Hinata finished, feeling winded, exhausted, but from the satisfied look on Temari's face, she'd gotten her point across.
x
oooo
She stared at him for a moment, time frozen, it seemed. "Again." Hinata sucked in a breath, trying to steady herself. It had been the thing that had disarmed her the most. Her name, rolling off his lips, his tongue against the roof of is mouth, his full lips curving over the word. Her name, breathy and deep and...
"I - "
"My name." She clarified, "say my name again."
He looked confused, concerned. Maybe he felt that she truly was insane. After all, who in their right mind would do this to themselves?
"I just...never mind." She quickly recovered. "I'll be alright. I'll just clean up in here and meet you in your office to go over the mission, Kazekage-sama."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "If you truly think I would leave you to do this on your own..." He trailed off, reaching for a bathrobe that hung on the back of the door. He knew that, in reality, Hinata's cuts stood a better chance of being properly cleaned and healed by Haruno. And really, if it were him in the situation, she would be his first choice to heal him.
And yet there was a nagging in his mind, pulling at something inside of him. He wanted to be the one to clean her wounds, to be the one to touch her and help her. Aside from that, he felt that the woman before him (and he wondered when she'd gone from 'girl' to 'woman' in his eyes) just might break even more if it were anybody but himself.
He didn't know when he'd become so arrogant. Surely he would have no such meaning to her. At one time they had been possibly affianced, but other than that...although he had begun to look forward to visiting the Leaf after he'd gotten to become familiar with Hinata...he'd understood Temari then better than he ever wanted to then. There was also a large part of himself that secretly felt yes, there were definitely worse things to have for a wife than Hinata Hyuuga.
And he supposed that one night spent together, on his second to last visit to Konoha, had to count for something.
Lyrics from The Space Between by The Dave Matthews Band.