Indefinite

By Airyo

Chapter 3


It was easy to lie.

She sent two messenger hawk backs to Konoha, to the Hokage and to her father, claiming that she'd been injured and would be laying low until she had healed because she was in enemy territory. They won't be surprised that she wasn't strong enough to protect herself. Month-long extensions were not uncommon, and the safe house was supplied to last a person at least twice as long.

Itachi had not uttered a word since the first time he woke. He was still too weak to get out of bed, and alternated his time dozing and staring out the window. The missing-nin was not a large man, perhaps only a half-head taller than Hinata herself. His was a body built for deadly speed. But even curled up into himself and trying to hide from the world, Hinata was sharply aware of him. Both of them were born of noble clans, which had their own system of language and politics separate from that of the shinobi.

Even though he said nothing, she did not hear the silence.

She heard 'thank you' with the hint of a smile when she brought his soup. She heard 'I'm sorry' with the tilt of his head when he startled her with movements too fast for a man who almost died. There were dozens of small actions that revealed Itachi's thoughts to her, and the sum of them was a man far more human than the stories told. To Hinata, he simply looked tired of fighting.

His eyes held the same expression she had seen in Neji's and sometimes in the mirror - it was the look of a person resigned to his fate. Maybe contemplating something darker in order to defy it.

She wasn't Naruto, so Hinata didn't know how she clear that awful expression from Itachi's dark gaze. All she could offer were a few kind smiles and a warm cup of tea.

She passed the rest of her time meditating and practicing her kata. There was a small underground dojo, because somehow, it would make less sense not to have one in a Hyuuga safe house. The jounin exams were approaching, and her teammates wanted to enter together. The implication was that they wanted to be promoted together, too, though they were too kind to pressure her. Hinata did not intend to fail them.

She was trying to teach herself Kaiten, but it was not nearly as easy as Neji made it seem. It was difficult to keep her balance while spinning and she always inevitably ended up tripping over her own feet, bruising her knees and elbows with each fall. But she had to keep trying. Naruto wouldn't give up, and she wouldn't either.

Again, Hinata stood back up and activated her Byakugan. She bent her knees and began to push chakra outwards. Then, she kicked off, letting herself spin on the balls of her feet. Her hands were extended out, both to keep her balance and to direct the waves of chakra. Her Byakugan allowed her to watch everything around without getting dizzy. She opened her awareness more and -

Itachi was watching from the doorway.

Her control wavered, sending her wobbling like a disturbed top. She squeaked as her momentum sent her tumbling head over heels. The room continued to spin even after she'd landed in a pile of arms and legs.

Then he was standing before her. She wasn't able to hide her flinch at his speed.

He turned a palm up to help her, head tilted slightly in apology for startling her. It didn't escape her notice that he had refrained from reaching for her, politely giving her the choice to reject his aid.

After only a moment of indecision, Hinata placed her hand in his. His palm was calloused and warm - for some reason, she had expected it to be cold and clammy. Even with dark circles lining his eyes and shoulders slumped with fatigue, he pulled her to her feet with ease.

He was studying her with a question in his eyes. Hinata gave a wisp of a nod.

"Your are less aware of your left side," he said quietly. "Even you are spinning, you retain your sense of spatial orientation due the nature of the Byakugan." It wasn't even a question, because he already knew he was correct. "Left and right are static to you even as you turn, which is why your left side is constantly lacking chakra. It would make it impossible to keep your Kaiten going."

Hinata blinked. She wasn't about to turn her nose up at advice from a genius like Uchiha Itachi. It was nerve-wracking for him to watch, but he made no motion to leave. Hinata tried again.

She stumbled out early of the spin, but this time, she didn't fall. She turned to Itachi with a shy, triumphant smile.

"Thank you," Hinata said. "I feel much more balanced."

He nodded.

After that, Itachi always watched when she practiced. He would sit to the side and offer small, but pointed bits of advice: lift an elbow here, bend a knee further there. Slowly, Hinata could feel the flow of her kata smooth out, like crumpled fabric ironed to new perfection. Hinata grew used to his presence, even took comfort in his steady guidance.

But he never participated, as it was a strain for him to even make his way down the stairs to the dojo. It quickly became apparent to Hinata that his state was due to something far more sinister than injuries from a fight.

It was made horrifically clear one night.

She woke abruptly, sensing the something was wrong. Her first sign was his lack of response when she entered to check on him. Even from the across the room, she could hear the wheezing. Hinata leaned in closer to investigate, only to step back with a gasp. Even without touching him, she could feel the feverish heat radiant off of him.

She ran to the kitchen and brought back a towel and a basin of water, sloshing some on his bed in her hurry. After wringing the towel of excess liquid, she folded it and reached over to replace his slashed forehead protector.

His eyes snapped open, irises crimson and spinning of dizzying death. The towel fell on the covers with a wet plop.

She fell to darkness.

And landed hard on her hands and knees, the impact jarring both mind and body. She staggered to her feet, staring at the empty walls around her. She looked at her hands and stared. She was darkness, reduced only to the pale lines of herself.

"Hinata." She whipped around. Itachi regarded her with crimson eyes that were all the brighter in this grayscale world.

"You have a fever," she said faintly.

It was alarming that he was not surprised by the news. "I have medicine in the left pocket of my coat. When you are released from my genjutsu, please give it to me. Three pills will make it so I will not bother you the rest of the night."

There was a long pause, before Hinata realized that he had no intention to dispel his jutsu immediately.

"Ano...would you…"

He blinked and refocused those red eyes on her, as if he'd been lost in thought.

"This genjutsu lasts for 72 hours," he explained. "But only three seconds will pass in reality. If I break it early, the shock might render you comatose. Better to let it run its course."

"That's a lot of time for thinking," she murmurred. The Uchiha gave her a strange look.

"It was the not the intention of this technique. It was created for the purpose of torture."

"But you aren't going to torture me," she said. A faint smile curled his lips.

"No, unless you are impatient. Three days is indeed a long time."

"But it's not real," she said. Even as she said, Hinata wondered if she was assuming too much. She frowned. "Is it?"

"I think, therefore I am," he quoted. "Though the medium is slightly different, it is just as real the world outside our minds." In other words, he was telling her that they really were spending three days stuck with each other in this not-quite-imaginary room. Hinata felt her face heat, and it was real as the physical act itself. "I supposed I can attempt a gentle early release," Itachi offered, noticing her discomfort. "Though that would require a deeper technique first to overtake this -"

"I-I can wait," she insisted with a flush. She really didn't want a 'deeper technique' anywhere near her. It sounded rather dirty.

"Very well. Please have tea with me then." On cue with Itachi's idea, a low table appeared with a tea set on it. It was odd to realize that he preferred the same simple comforts as her. He led by example and seated himself.

"Green or puer?"

The absurdity of her situation didn't escape her. Hinata, shy Hyuuga heiress, was playing tea party with Itachi, notorious mass murderer, because they were caught in a genjutsu that lasted for 72 hours. It was a scene straight out of some fangirl's fantasy.

"Which do you believe to be better?" she asked as she joined him. If they were subject to the whims of Itachi's mind, then she would take whichever he perceived as better.

Amusement flickered through his expression. Itachi understood her thought process and poured her a cup of puer tea. "I find green tea cleansing, but far too bitter."

Hinata took a sip. "Me too," she agreed.

Silence descended. Steam unfurled from spout of the teapot in thin, spidery strands. Itachi flicked a finger, and the steam twisted, forming crane that flapped its wings once before dissipating. Hinata stared.

"Genjutsu is truly the most powerful of the three arts. The mind of a shinobi is both his greatest weapon and his greatest weakness. That is what makes my clan's techniques so terrifying." She stared at him. "Yes?"

"You talk more," she blurted out. He paused and then nodded.

"It is...easier here. Tsukuyomi is a very specialized technique. Much like how blood flow to less essential parts such as the digestive system is minimized during times of great physical stress, Tsukuyomi suppresses the stray impulses of my mind so I can focus on the victim."

The Sharingan remembered everything, Hinata realized, and the thought of perfect recall of all her fights - the death, the cruel sing of adrenaline in her blood - made her shiver. But just what was so horrific that even Itachi needed to hide from the psychological aftermath?

Unless...

"Itachi, may I ask a sensitive question?"

The Uchiha turned red-wheeled eyes to her. He blinked once, slowly. "You may ask."

"Why did you kill your family?"

"To test my limits," was the automatic response.

Perhaps the genjutsu affected her too, because she shook her head, sending her long hair spilling around her shoulders. "But you wouldn't do something like that for such a reason."

He studied her. "And you presume to know me?"

"Of course not," Hinata said quickly, looking down at her hands. Her heart fluttered at her throat. "You...just don't seem like the type to do something like that."

Itachi turned unreadable eyes to her. "The mark of a good ninja is the ability to deceive."

Meeting Itachi's gaze was like leaning precariously over a black pool of water. She didn't know how deep nor how shallow it was. Nor what it concealed in its depths. The only way to confirm anything was to accept the risk of drowning and fall in.

"It is," she agreed. "But behind that facade is still a human being." Itachi almost smiled. She felt like drowning in that instead.

"Perhaps," he conceded. "For us ninja, humanity is a relative term."

The conversation was over. Itachi had already been more than forthcoming. "Perhaps," she agreed.

They spent the rest of their time speaking of inane things: on the properties of chakra when applied to the elements, on their respective doujutsu and their value for medic-nin, on a thousand topics meant for the dry textbooks all ninja loathed to study. But with Itachi, they were fascinating. His blunt, matter-of-fact treatment of each idea made it seem possible, more tangible in this intangible genjutsu world.

Hinata was disappointed when Itachi paused mid-sentence. "It is time."

Then she was on the ground of the hideout again, trying to gain control over her trembling limbs. The closest description would be a sense of vertigo, but for the sharp difference in dreaming and being awake. For the first minute, she can't manage the strength to even lift her head. The course floorboard pressed into the side of her face as she panted. The smell of the wood hadn't quite faded and Hinata latched onto the scent as tether to reality. If this was a gentle release, it was no wonder Kakashi had been in a coma for a month.

Eventually, she could manage to sit up without feeling as if she would throw up. She used the bed to brace herself up, hooking a bent knee on the space next to Itachi's leg for leverage, and reached the Akatsuki cloak draped over the headboard of his bed. She found the aforementioned cannister of pills in the left pocket. Hands trembling, she pressed at the hinges of his jaw until his lips parted. She dropped the pills into his mouth with a splash of water and stroked his throat with clumsy fingers to induce swallowing.

Within minutes, his breathing was steady and the high points of red on his cheeks receded. Hinata's exhausted body gave out and she slumped over on the bed.

She woke alone, with a blanket neatly tucked around her. Sunlight streamed in through the window, warming her side. She quickly forgot the sensation when she heard him enter the room. He set a cup of water at the headstand as Hinata sat up. She took a longer than necessary, unsure what to say after last night's experience.

"Your emotional attachment to me is unhealthy, if you are already shedding tears over my state." Hinata blinked at him in confusion until he gestured to the wet spot where she had dropped the wet rag. Hinata gave a nervous laugh. One, because she didn't expect Uchiha Itachi to have a sense of humor.

And two, because his jest was already truth.

That night, she sent a messenger bird to Konoha to inform them that she would returning. She needed to leave, to distance herself . More than anyone else, Hinata knew what the first curl of affection felt like. She knew the fluttering jump of a heart. She knew the scattered nerves warming the pit of her stomach, the simmering smile always at the corner of her lips ready for the next thought of him.

She still loved Naruto. But she was also falling for Itachi.

"I...I need to go," she told him the next morning as she packed. He lingered at the doorway, wordlessly watching her fold a shirt. Her pale hands winged through the black cloth like doves flying in a night sky. In reality, doves only flew in daylight. "I've registered this safe house as compromised, so no one will use it. The justu on it are high level enough to keep you hidden until you want to leave."

"Thank you." They looked at each other, at a loss for what to say in such a situation. One was a heiress, struggling for recognition but already recognized by her peers as a future leader. The other was a missing-nin, more widely recognized, but for his brutal crimes. Two opposite side of the spectrum never allowed to meet.

"Good luck, Hinata." She looked up. A hesitant, lopsided smile brightened her face.

"Thank you...I'll see you again…" It was a plea, a desperate command, for him to take better care of himself.

He nodded. She heard 'I promise', but she stared at him with determined expectation. Itachi looked amused, but complied.

"I will see you again."


AN: I had to rewrite a part of this. Sorry for the delay.