A/N: ...Okay, this was only supposed to be a one-shot, but. It looks like you guys win, and there's going to be a little more than that. XD;
"…I can't believe you're going to let this happen."
It's the seventh time this week, and the second time today, that Sakura has argued with Naruto over Uchiha Sasuke and Hyuuga Hinata's now-official betrothal. Or tried to argue over it, rather. Naruto has refused to rise to the bait at all thus far, simply laughing and making a glibly off-putting reply or else just ignoring her words completely, though she can tell his patience with this subject matter is starting to wear thin.
"Sakura-chan, do we really have to talk about this again?" The youngest-ever Hokage looks at her sideways, obviously uncomfortable despite the ever-present smile on his face. He doesn't want to make her angry (for several reasons, not just because he knows she can put him through the nearest wall with nothing more than a 'gentle' push, though not wanting to get his face punched in is certainly one of those reasons), but he can see how upset she is already, and he really doesn't want to talk about this…because really, he's all for the marriage. Hinata is gentle, easily the gentlest girl Naruto knows, and she's kind and patient and quiet and endlessly brave and still sorta just a little weird, and he knows if anyone has a chance of getting through to Sasuke somehow, it's her.
But this, this topic, this issue, this conversation with Sakura is obviously something that isn't going to go away with smiles and laughter or even comforting or rational words, so he settles himself in for the fight his wife seems so determined to have, mentally preparing himself for the almost inevitable punch in the face. "I don't know what you expect me to do about it."
"Talk her out of it."
Naruto pulls a face. "That's girl-talk. Why don't you do it?"
Sakura blushes faintly as she looks at him, hating herself for the guilt that stabs through her at that moment. She doesn't regret marrying Naruto, not really, not at all most of the time, but it's more complicated than that. Essentially stealing the boy the Hyuuga girl had loved for years, since she was a young child…it felt like a betrayal of sorts somehow. Hinata had confessed first after all, and Naruto had rejected Sakura's initial 'confession,' though that had changed later on… Still, even though the other girl had been nothing but pleasant and polite whenever they happened to meet, the thought of being alone with Hinata, much less discussing her love life, is an awkward one that the pink-haired medic-nin has determined to avoid at all costs.
I can't. There's no way I can face her, not after…what I took from her.
She shakes her head, unable to admit any of that aloud. "Then talk…Sasuke out of it."
Naruto can't help but notice how she pauses just a half-second too long before saying their former teammate's name, and it pains him to hear it, like someone grabbed his heart and twisted hard, wringing it out like a waterlogged towel. Another reminder of just how broken they are, how things will never be the same. But he can't show Sakura how much it hurts him that she won't even try to talk to Sasuke, so he just puts on his tough 'grudging best friend' face and turns his nose up, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Tch, right, like that bastard'll listen to anything I say."
"But he has to," Sakura insists, not in the mood to play games. "You're the Hokage."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I can magically make him less of a stubborn asshole," Naruto mutters.
"Then why not talk to Hinata? You know she'd listen to you. She looks up to you so much, almost idolizes you, and she might even still—" She stops before she can say what they're both thinking (possibly the real reason Naruto is hesitant to confront the Hyuuga girl), then starts again after a brief but awkward pause, "Well, it's just…I think she'd probably do anything you said, even now…and if you talked to her father, her family, too...there's no way she could go against them and you."
"…Sakura-chan," Naruto says, very, very softly, almost in a whisper, staring sightlessly down at the table he's sitting at and the half-empty cup of long-cold tea sitting in front of him. "I really…really can't do that."
"Of course you could, you're the Hokage—"
Naruto stands so abruptly, his chair topples backwards with a loud crash, his thighs banging into the table in front of him, the cup overturning, spilling tea everywhere before rolling off the table and smashing to the floor, shattering far beyond repair. Then he's leaning over the table towards her, elbows locked, arms braced, hands splayed, the tips of his fingernails flaring white beneath the sudden pressure, and his words come out as a sharp snarl, low, fast, and fierce.
"Hokage or not, I ESPECIALLY have no right to tell Hinata who she can or can't marry!"
It's the first time he's raised his voice this entire conversation, and Sakura can count on one hand the number of times he's looked at her like that, eyes narrowed in an intense not-quite-glare that makes something in her chest ache. How he really looks is stern, she realises, more mature than she'd once thought possible and every inch the strong, powerful Hokage he'd dreamt of being, and she finds that she cannot meet that piercing gaze. It makes her feel weak, inadequate, and horribly selfish, and Naruto does not judge lightly, so she must deserve to feel that way.
Looking far older than his twenty-one years, he closes his eyes, bows his head, and heaves a quiet sigh, and Sakura knows that already he's regretting his part in this conversation, this fight, but his grim expression makes it equally obvious that he's still upset. Without another word, he pushes away from the table and heads out the door, grabbing his flak jacket off its hook by the door as he leaves.
He'll apologise later, she tells herself, after he's had time to cool down a little, just like he always does. But for once, she's not entirely certain of that.
After his footsteps and chakra signature both fade away, she folds in on herself, hugging her knees to her chest and, now that she's alone, crying a little--over fighting with Naruto, or for Hinata, or for herself, she's not sure.
Whatever the reason, it's a long time before those tears stop coming--so long that she'd almost started to wonder if they ever would.
On finding themselves placed in this sort of position, most people would probably have quickly come up with an excuse to be elsewhere, or just refused to see him entirely. Hyuuga Hinata does neither; instead she greets him with a smile and a deep bow and her usual (but notably fainter these days) blush.
Naruto had felt it important that they meet here, at the training grounds, rather than the Hyuuga compound or the Hokage Tower. This is neutral ground, and here, at least, they are not Hokage and Hyuuga heir. They are merely two people, two shinobi; here they are equals.
The smile he gives her in return is friendly, like all his smiles, but there's a gentleness there, a tender regard in his eyes as he looks down at her that is not quite the norm. She was the first person to declare her love for him, after all, and the only person to throw herself into that hopeless situation with Pein, to state without a hint of a stutter that she was willing to die for him. And even though things hadn't worked out the way they could've (should've?), he would never stop seeing her as someone special, someone set apart from everyone else.
…Which meant he would never stop feeling guilty about his eventual choice either…
"Hey, Hinata-chan…thanks for agreeing to meet me here." He scratches the back of his head nervously and forces a sheepish little laugh, "…Look, I know I said this before, but I really am sorry—"
Before he finishes his sentence, Hinata is already waving her hands dismissively, and not a little desperately, her entire face flushing a deep pink and her stutter worse than it's been in years. "N-no, d-d-d-don't say that—I-I'm j-j-j-just glad you're h-h-happy!"
For a brief moment Naruto's smile is somehow sad, with a trace of am I really to it; then it's brighter, warmer than the sun, just like always.
"Hinata-chan…I know I don't have any right to say this, but…thanks. For…well, for everything. But especially for this." He shifts his weight a little awkwardly as he gives another semi-uncomfortable chuckle. "You really didn't have to say yes."
"I—I know!" she blurts, then looks down as she says in a more subdued tone, "…I wanted to. H-he's really…very kind…deep down, isn't he…?" She looks up, finding Naruto's eyes on her, his expression intense and such a meld of emotions that it's almost unreadable; he looks like doesn't know whether to laugh or cry or do something else entirely. "…And very lonely, too," she adds, the words just above a whisper. But this time, they're not hesitant, and not a question, for she is not at all unsure.
Naruto looks like he's about so say something, but when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. "Yeah," he manages after swallowing hard, though it still comes out a bit choked. He swallows again and bows his head, nodding; when he raises it again a moment later, the laughter and regular smile have won through, though there's still evidence of a glassy sheen in his eyes. "We'll just have to keep reminding him that we're here for him, huh?"
Hinata gives a tiny laugh and nods once. Naruto starts to turn to go, a smile stretching across his face as he raises a hand in farewell, but he hasn't taken more than two steps before he stops and spins back around.
"Oh! And just so's you know, if there's ever anything I can do to pay you back—"
"A-ah!" She's anxious and eager enough to cut off his sentence with her exclamation, though again she blushes furiously and stares at her feet on realising what she's done. When Naruto waits with silent expectance rather than picking up where he left off, she chances a quick look up him, then hesitantly hedges, "Um, a-actually…"
He smiles at her encouragingly, a silent go on, I'm listening.
She twiddles her fingers apprehensively, a habit she'd abandoned for the most part; only when particularly nervous does she find herself falling back into her old ways. "W-what…what sorts of things does Sasuke-kun like? He d-doesn't really talk about himself very much…s-so I thought maybe…" She ducks her head again, fingers a blur. "…I…already figured out that he doesn't like sweet things…b-but…"
For a moment the look Naruto gives her is one of open surprise, though it's swiftly overtaken with his famously wide, profoundly cheerful grin. You'd better appreciate this, teme, he thinks to himself as he looks over at the delicately beautiful girl standing across from him, still fidgeting like crazy. Better appreciate her. 'Cause I'm not sure you deserve her yet, and if you make her cry, I swear I'll kick your ass so hard, your grandkids' grandkids are still gonna walk with a limp.
"Sure, Hinata-chan!" is what he says aloud, no trace of the dark threats lurking elsewhere in his mind apparent in his high-spirited tone. "What exactly do ya wanna know?"
These days, a curt double-tug on the bell-pull at the front entrance of the Hyuuga compound means just one thing: Uchiha Sasuke has come for tea.
It has become a regular occurrence by now--twice a week, though there's no discernible pattern in the two days he chooses. Even something as simple as that is politics, however: the Hyuuga elders decided in favour of the proposed marriage, just as he'd said they would. It would have reflected on them poorly if Hinata had gone against their orders and married him regardless, as they all know she would have, and Sasuke likes to remind them who's really in control of this situation. Showing up at different times on random days and expecting their hospitality and deference might not be particularly subtle, but so long as the message is clear, the last Uchiha could honestly care less about whose toes he steps on.
Most days, at least half a dozen of the Hyuuga come to welcome him and take their tea with him. Hinata's father, sister, and cousin are almost always in attendance, along with two bodyguard-looking types and of course Hinata herself. Hanabi is still stiffly angry around him, and Neji watches him like one wolf circling another; Sasuke doesn't generally deign to notice either of them. Hyuuga Hiashi is largely silent, either refusing to even look at the Uchiha, or else staring at him with hard eyes and a clenched jaw and more than a little dislike. Hinata tends to be quiet as well, though she manages to keep things flowing smoothly with softly-stuttered small-talk and quiet biwa music, played either by herself or another of the Hyuuga in attendance.
This time, though, he finds only his future wife waiting for him in their regular tea room, which he isn't expecting. He scans the surrounding area, eyes briefly spinning to red, lingering on the fusuma panels directly behind Hinata. And again, what he finds isn't what he's anticipating. There's only one person there, and as he continues to stand in the doorway, looking at that spot, Hinata happens to glance up from straightening the already-perfectly-neat spread of dishes on the low table at the room's center. She follows his gaze to that far wall, and though her fancy attire slows her, a moment later she's on her feet and at the crack where the two panels come together; but by the time she pushes them apart, the would-be spy (likely Hanabi, judging by the retreating form's size and the colour and intensity of chakra) is gone.
"S-sorry about that, Sasuke-san…" Hinata says contritely as she returns to the table and her teatime preparations.
"Don't be. Siblings are supposed to be protective of each other."
His tone is flat and dismissive, but the words themselves are revealing, and Hinata can't stop herself from glancing up at him through her eyelashes. Such kind words, and so much pain in those dark eyes that doesn't make it into his voice or onto his face.
At least not at first glance: looking more closely, the downward curve of his mouth and the lowered eyes are impossible to perceive as anything other than intense sorrow and subtle regret, and Hinata's heart clenches before it goes out to him. On days like this, when that melancholy expression shows through more than usual (which still isn't saying much), she can easily see what Naruto saw in him, why he cares about him so much. He's so lonely, so hollow inside, so afraid to get close to people that somehow it's almost impossible for her to leave him alone.
Teatime is a quiet affair—quieter than usual, but a great deal more peaceful as well. Neither seems to feel the need to fill that silence, and he doesn't look annoyed and she isn't fidgeting half as much as she usually does, and her smiles are perhaps a bit more shy and tentative, but they're also warmer, more at ease. There's a stillness, a serenity, and even after all the food is gone and he's finished his second cup of tea and waved away the offer of a third, Sasuke makes no move to leave, simply sitting at the table and looking out through the open shōji screens into the expansive gardens beyond, his expression contemplative but calm. But it's not the sort of moment that can last forever, and before long he rises, giving Hinata a minute nod of appreciation, or perhaps just acknowledgment, and moves to leave.
All at once, the Hyuuga girl finds that she doesn't want him to go, not yet; before she knows it, she's calling after him.
"S-Sasuke-san!"
He stops and looks back at her, the fact that he does so almost instantly more than a little telling. She misses it entirely, however, since she's staring down at her fists clenched in her lap, her cheeks already bright pink.
"Ah…uh, um…w-would…would you like to walk in the gardens with me a bit before you go?" she blurts all at once, ducking her head even more, the colour in her cheeks spreading to the rest of her face.
He looks at her for a long moment, as if weighing what it might cost him to give in to her request; when she finally dares to look up at him, he gives a silent nod of agreement. Before she can move, he's standing there beside her, coolly holding out a hand to help her up. She takes it with a grateful smile, as her clothing today is more elaborate than usual--a furisode kimono with three layers beneath it--but this time Sasuke doesn't even meet her eyes, his countenance closed and dispassionate; yet he only lets go of her arm once she's safely on the ground outside, not a moment before.
The gardens truly are beautiful this time of year—perhaps not as much as they are in the early spring, when the plum and cherry blossoms are in bloom, but the irises are lovely and some of the orchids are still in bloom, with others obviously preparing to do so in the coming weeks. Moreover, the soothing sound of quietly running water trickles throughout the whole of the garden, which displays an appearance of simplicity and minimalism that can only be the result of endless hours of effort towards that end.
Moving at a leisurely pace, they pass over a high-arching bridge with red-painted rails, then slip through the hanging branches of a weeping willow before crossing a set of stepping stones that lead out to a little pavilion on an island in the middle of a still lake. There Sasuke slows, seemingly gazing at the water lilies and the lazily-drifting red-and-white koi swimming beneath them. In reality, he's thinking about his current situation. He's not entirely sure why he agreed to this walk, because tranquil as it is, nice as the paths are, and as much as he enjoys an evening stroll, what does he care about gardens really? What's more, he's already met with his bride-to-be and her family enough times for propriety to be more than satisfied, and tradition says nothing about spending time alone together like this…and yet he still agreed to it, and he finds with something like faint surprise that he's not at all sorry that he did.
A passing breeze ruffles through his hair, setting a few strands of hers swaying as well, and without really thinking about it, he catches a lock loosely in his hand, letting it whisper through his fingers, smooth as water, soft as silk. Perhaps he really does like girls with long hair, he thinks, one corner of his mouth pulling upwards just a fraction as the girl's eyes widen.
"S-Sasuke-san…!"
"You don't need to be so formal," he says, though as admonishments go, it's a gentle one, especially for an Uchiha, and far more permissive than it is reproachful.
She blinks those big, pale eyes, just a little off-balance, before stuttering out a tentative, "S-Sasuke…kun?"
The pained expression flickers across his face so swiftly Hinata almost thinks she imagined it, but she knows she didn't. It would be easy to believe she did, though, with how empty and withdrawn his expression is now, and she twiddles her fingers anxiously, wondering just what she's said wrong.
"Sasuke," he says quietly after a moment of semi-uncomfortable silence has elapsed. "Just Sasuke."
There's something in his voice, that melancholy twinge, that throbbing note of an old pain; and maybe it's all those years of Naruto's influence, but suddenly Hinata can't stand to just hear it and not even try to say or do anything about it. Determined, she clenches her hands at her sides and raises her chin, her gaze steady on his face as she states his name firmly:
"Sasuke."
She colours slightly when that brings his eyes up and over to meet hers, but she stands her ground and doesn't look away, even managing a small, brave smile.
"W-would you like to see more of the gardens?" she says with scarcely a stutter. "There's a section up ahead that's a rock garden--Neji-nii-san and Otou-san work on it together every weekend."
Sasuke shoots her a quick look of disbelief at the idea of Hiashi and Neji doing something so mundane as gardening together, but though there's traces of self-conscious amusement in her expression, he can see that she's serious. Ultimately curiosity overcomes skepticism, and he gives a nod and a low hum of agreement, already moving toward the opposite side of the little island.
The stepping stones are spaced a bit wider on the other side of the tiny pavilion, and he assists her in crossing them without even thinking, earning himself another appreciative smile and a small, warm hand that lingers on his arm a little longer than necessary. And perhaps the paths in this part of the garden are narrower, perhaps the greenery isn't trimmed back quite as far as it should be, or perhaps it's something else, something unquantifiable, but for whatever reason, their shoulders seem to brush a good deal more often as they walk; and as he steals another oblique look at Hinata's delicately flushed face, once again Sasuke finds that he doesn't mind in the least.