The wedding day came and went with not much help, besides financial, from the Hyuuga. Even still, many of the decisions were not hers, as if most of the planning had already been done in advance. The flowers, they said matched her eyes. The decorations, her hair. The silks and cloth that draped her, imported, and the most luxurious to ever touch her skin. The makeup, of highest quality, exquisitely beautiful on her porcelain skin, staining her lips, cheeks, and eyes like wine and ink.

She was a bit rusty in her propriety, in speech and in manner, though she had spent time reviewing with Kurenai. And when she looked, she did not recognize the woman in the mirror. Her eyes were dull and flat, and her skin was sallow underneath the paint, even in the fresh spring light and air, from hiding behind her mask and in the shadows. There was a time where she would have basked in the aroma of the blossoms that surrounded her, but now, they only seem to suffocate her.

It was no doubt an occasion filled with excitement, a day to remember, and one of the most grandiose weddings in history, by shinobi standards, one any young girl could only dream about. One that, lifetimes ago, she would've wanted for herself.

Hinata saw the pride plastered stupidly on the faces of her clan members, when they had no more than glanced her way the entire time she had returned home, much less during the ceremony. She could barely contain rolling her eyes at hearing how "Hinata, firstborn daughter of Hiashi, head of the Hyuuga clan, was representing her family in the most honorable way by being given to the most esteemed Hokage of Konohagakure" and other superfluous comments she heard them utter to foreigners and other visitors who had attended. The bile she tasted in the back of her mouth burned her already empty stomach, and she cursed her superiorly trained hearing as she was forced to listen to these words that were only used to chain her to them.

She wondered what her face looked like to those who looked on. Another mask, maybe, but this time, not an owl. Kakashi's seemed as serene as it could be, both of them going through practiced motions.

This is what Uzumaki Mito must have felt like, she thought absentmindedly amidst thunderous applause, her hand cradled delicately in the crook of her new husband's arm when they were finally announced, though she was hardly as special as she was, as the jinchuuriki of the kyuubi at the time. At least Kushina had loved her husband.

She was in the middle of exchanging words with a horrifyingly long procession of guests when she felt a small tug at the back of her kimono.

Familiar, sparkling emerald eyes on a round face framed by familiar golden locks stared curiously up at her. "Kaka-jii?" The young child babbled.

The blond.

It was like a forgotten reflex within her, like a wet match trying to spark a flame, wanting her heart to stop or break apart into a thousand pieces, and she puzzled at it, before she remembered to stretch her lips in greeting as not to frighten the child.

The green.

Interrupting her, Kakashi bent down and whisked him up into his arms. "Ah, Shinachiku-kun." The toddler giggled happily as her new husband bounced him. "Have you come to say hi?" Somewhere inside her, she mused at how comfortable the normally expressionless man was with the child.

"Shina-chan, there you are!"

The voice. Her head turned in the direction of its owner, who had come to join them.

"Thanks, Kakashi-sensei!" Whiskered cheeks and a blindingly orange yukata and even brighter blue eyes appeared in her vision.

"Ah, Hinata!"

The smile. The laugh.

"Congratulations!"

He wrapped her up in a big hug that would have melted her years ago, burying his face in her hair. The breath that rushed by her ears that would have set goosebumps down her spine.

The touch.

His smile faltered, and his eyes dimmed a bit at her stiffness as he set her down. She stared at him with blank eyes that were only unfamiliar to him. The hard lines of her face was like a stranger.

Na-ru-to. The muscles in her face and lips formed the once-familiar word, yet the muscles in her throat could not force the air out of her mouth to say it. His was the first name she had erased, his was the first smile, the first face.

What did she see there now as she watched him study her? Uneasiness? Concern? Guilt?

Unsettled, he turned instead and scooped his son up from Kakashi, who was watching Hinata intently, and placed him in the arms of his wife, who had come to join them. "There ya go, Shina. Back to mama."

The pink.

The renowned medic took one of her son's chubby arms and waved it at the new couple. "Congratulations, Hinata, Kakashi-sensei!" She gave them both a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "We'll you see you two at the reception. Don't want to hold up the line or anything."

She stood silent, waiting for the blond, the blue, the pink, the green, the orange, the voice, the laugh, the touch—waiting for it all to hit her with a force like a tsunami. For her breath to stop, the pain to start, her face to flush, her eyes to drop, her voice to stammer, her fingers to fidget, the tears to fall—

But nothing came.

She felt nothing.

She almost choked out a sarcastic laugh. Ah. This is what it means to grow up.

Well, done, Hinata, she congratulated herself.

Instead, she bowed politely and with that same, practiced, small, tight smile, and with the same, practiced words, she said with the same tone she had greeted every guest before them, "Thank you."

The muscles in her face began to ache as she held the false smile for the remainder of the night, weak from years of misuse. She received endless embraces and kisses from her friends and esteemed guests, the most physical contact she had allowed since she was a teenager, thanking them with false cheer when they all praised how beautiful she was, how happy they were for her.

She was more than grateful to be alone when it was all over. Or alone - with Kakashi. It was their wedding night, after all, and the start of a honeymoon trip courtesy of the hidden villages.

Hinata had heard many things about him. That he was very sexually experienced. There were many tales and rumors of his encounters. She was still but a girl in those matters compared to him. Her repertoire of sexual encounters were limited, not counting those advances she used on missions. She herself had been guilty of a few one night stands, amongst other lovemakings, yet the thought of being willingly intimate with another man made her skin crawl with unwanted memories.

He had been very kind to her, gentle even. There had been times almost as if he was scared she would reject him, being cautious with his words, his touch light on her arm as they presented themselves as a picturesque couple.

A hokage, sensei, prodigy aside — Kakashi-sensei was a man. She tilted her head to receive the warm sake to her lips faster.

They were drinking after a night in the onsen and a bountiful dinner wrapped in matching robes, courtesy of the hotel and resort, chatting about all the nice gifts they had received. They spoke about how good the food was at their reception and how nice it was to see their friends from other villages.

It was not their first time being intoxicated in the same vicinity, yet they realized how high their tolerance had grown over the years when the first few bottles of sake did nothing but heighten their anxiety. Hinata was more surprised than Kakashi. She hadn't thought time she spent in the bars drinking with other ANBU members after missions had affected her that much.

But after more crates of various alcohol choices had been ordered into the room, it began to ease their conversation, and Hinata found herself relaxing around him, even laughing a little at his jokes. The tension seemed to disappear from Kakashi's shoulders as well as she responded almost naturally to him the longer the night went on.

It was later in the night, almost at early morning, when Hinata sat propped against the open sliding door, feeling the cool air enter the room and watching the stars twinkling in the night sky, matching the overly exquisite diamond on her left ring finger, a piece of jewelry she knew Kakashi had no hand in choosing. It weigh on her like an anchor to an sinking ship, and it looked too pretty on her scarred, calloused hand. She frowned, stuffing it under her bottom, hiding it from her view.

"Hinata," Kakashi sat down next to her with one leg extended and the other bent, where he placed his elbow lazily.

She peered up at him, her head tilting heavily with alcohol. "Mm?" The skin on his cheeks were almost as flushed as hers.

Kakashi took a long deep breath. "The life we have is short, as shinobi," he began. "Many of our peers, well mine mostly, never got to have this opportunity - the opportunity of extra time. To have a family, to grow old. And I know this isn't what either of us wanted. But we don't have to spend the rest of our lives being miserable because of it." It was a heavy influx of words and it took Hinata a moment to process all of it.

"So I've been thinking, it's probably time for us to address the issue." For a moment, he sounded like the old sensei she remembered, and her reflexes immediately made her listen. "I mean, we're both perfectly mature adults."

He turned his head and looked her right in the eye. "What do you want out of this marriage, Hinata?"

Her brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to speak. "I - "

Kakashi rambled on, interrupting her, "What do you want from me? I know it won't be love. I'm not the man you want, not even the one you deserve. But if we're going to do this, I just want you to be honest with me. Right from the beginning." He took another sip of his sake.

"If anything comes out of this marriage, I assure you it will be honesty, trust, and respect," he continued. "I want to know who you are and I want you to know who I am. Not the legends you heard about, the teacher you knew as a student. And I don't want to think about you in terms of numbers of kills and missions completed, or as the Hyuuga girl, or Kurenai's student. Because no matter how hard we try to escape it, we're more than that." Another sip.

"That being said," He motioned for her to speak. "What, Hinata, do you want out of this marriage?"

The room was silent again, with only the sound of the crickets chirping outside. Hinata had frozen, a million incoherent semblances of thoughts flooding her hazy brain. His words seem to echo through her mind as she registered what he was asking, more so why he was asking her. As if he actually cared. And if so, why he did.

"Maybe this was a bit too much for the first night, eh?" He sighed, smiling apologetically. "It was better in my head. Never mind. We'll think on it. Talk about it tomorrow." Kakashi stood up slowly, cracking his back and yawning into the crook of his elbow.

After a long moment of silence, Hinata began slowly, "Honestly?"

"Honestly." Kakashi repeated.

She paused. "Out of this marriage, I don't know." She saw him sag a little from the corner of her eyes.

"From you," her gaze dropped to her lap where she was squeezing her cup. "I want you… to be someone who listens."

Someone who didn't say they knew what was best for her. Who waited until she was done talking. Who spoke to her like her opinion mattered. Who didn't talk down to her.

"Yes," she murmured into the cup as she took a sip. "Someone who listens."

He nodded thoughtfully. "For me, a companion, and maybe, a friend, by the time one of us dies." Kakashi smiled. "Probably me."

"A friend...would be nice."

"You are going to spend an awful lot of time around me," he warned. "I'd hope we'd become friends by the end of it."

That made her crack a small grin.

"For now," Kakashi continued, sweeping his arms out to motion to the large room, "we'll just have to take it one step at a time." He held out his hand to her, offering to help her up.

She hesitated, staring at his open palm.

Kakashi sighed. "You know we don't have to do anything until you're comfortable. I hope you know I would never force myself on you."

"Thank you," Hinata murmured.

"I'm not just some old pervert, you know." He grinned. "Despite the rumors."

She blushed. "I never thought —"

"Oh, there's the old Hinata." Kakashi chuckled, reaching out to pat her on the head. "Welcome back. I hope to see her more often."

She wondered a little what he meant by that as she watched him clamor next to the table to pour himself another drink and plop himself on the floor with a contented sigh. She loathed everything she used to be - naive, trusting, hopeful. All thoughts were pushed aside, however, when he beckoned her over, "Come on, come on. Have you ever played Tsunade-sama's favorite drinking game? I've never lost it."

Hinata rose, her skin prickling with the challenge as she made her way next to him, taking the full cup he had poured for her and toasting his as she stated, "As far as I've heard, you've never won it either."

They shared the futon that night, the warmth of their skin lulling themselves to sleep. When she woke up, it was to his face. Fully unmasked. Somehow he had ended up throwing an arm around her and she had instinctively buried her face in his chest. Hinata almost had the breath knocked out of her in awe as she studied the utter handsomeness of his face. To his sharp, angled jaw roughened with stubble, the perfect bridge of his nose. The point of his chin. The lashes that looked impossibly thick to belong to a man. The ragged scar running down his eye that seemed to be the only imperfection, aside from a few lines wrinkling the skin around his eyes. A beauty mark that only served to pull her attention to the swell of his lips that were parted in slumber. To think this man, her former teacher, this much older man, was beside her in the same bed, the Hokage, her superior, holding her so intimately —

"S-sensei — !" She managed to croak with her dry throat when he peeled one eye back. He must have noticed her body stiffen.

"Hmm?" He hummed sleepily.

"Your mask!"

He grinned, and she saw truly how beautiful his smile was. "Well, somebody should have gotten naked tonight," he shrugged. "Might as well have been me."

Her eyes widened in a panic, the blood rushing to her face as her gaze dropped down his blanket-covered body for a millisecond before returning to his face. She hadn't not noticed the bare expanse of his muscled chest and arms.

"Not all the way," he assured her, trying to bring her closer.

Her fingers splayed out on his chest as she pushed him back, attempting to get up. "W-wait! I-I-!" The now-obvious pounding in her head increased and she groaned, falling limply back into his embrace.

"It's my one and only wedding night, Hinata," Kakashi murmured gruffly. "I promised you I wouldn't do anything yet. Please let me have the pleasure of at least feeling the warmth of my wife against my skin."

Her face heated even more at the word 'pleasure,' but allowed him to pull her close again. Her lips turned down as she tried to ignore the feel of his chiseled muscles against her skin. Suddenly, she was self-conscious and tried to pull the sleeping yukata around the breast that threatened to spill out.

He surprised her even more when he pulled it around her himself. He chuckled, "As deadly as they say you are, you're still shy, sweet Hinata somewhere in there." He pressed his head closer to hers, his silvery strands burying into her shiny, indigo locks. "Though I know how hard you tried to leave that behind."

She stilled, finally believing that he would take his time with her, starting with her body. Hinata swallowed. "Thank you," she whispered into his cheek, taking a deep breath to try to calm herself, trying to suppress the urge to escape and run, trying not to fight the intimacy that he was showing her, the intimacy that she had come to correlate with anxiety.

She could see the outlines of raised scars and burns scattered throughout his skin, just like she had, and when her eyes were done tracing the outline of his body, they fell on his matching tattoo. Hinata relaxed. Yes, that's right. He had been in ANBU, too. Maybe he knew a little more about how she felt and maybe...maybe they had more in common than she thought.

"Get some more rest, Hinata," Kakashi whispered back. "Our honeymoon has only just begun."