Note: To loveawkwardness who asked, Hinata does not have a scar from her confrontation with Pein (I really should've considered this before I wrote that in the last chapter. No turning back now). Sorry, friends D:

Anyways, I'm updating again. I decided to make things a bit more exciting this chapter. I'm starting to get ideas how the story will end now (three chapters in).

Again, I love reviews. Anyone posting on this site that says they don't love reviews is a liar. And people that criticize review-hungry people are hypocrites. I won't lie to you. I love reviews. Thanks for all that have been leaving me comments, I actually do read them all, and they make me very motivated to update! Enjoy this chapter!

Artichoke Heart

Chapter 3: Drunk

By the time mid-November rolled around, Hinata had decided to use a small portion of Sasuke's money to purchase a large, box-like refrigerator.

Sasuke did not find such a large refrigerator necessary. He and Hinata had to move the kitchen table over to make space for it, and the dining area became crammed whereas before it was the right amount of spacious. Not only this, but the fridge that Hinata owned was already above average in size. Either way, Sasuke decided to keep his opinion unvoiced. He had figured that the extra fridge was because of him. Besides, Hinata had it delivered by cart to the house, and had already signed the confirmation receipt by the time he saw it.

"I had to bring in the rest of my harvest," Hinata explained simply. Sasuke watched nonchalantly as she hauled some cabbages into the new fridge.

"I see."

When she had finished stowing away the vegetables that would hold in the freezer, she slammed the lid down, placing her hands on either hip and huffing softly.

The first frost had passed, and the field surrounding the house was tinged a crystalline white, amongst the gold of the tall grass. The forest was a blend of orange, red, and brown. Crinkled leaves descended endlessly in layers that all but buried Hinata's small house. Though Hinata's garden was on the side opposite of the where the forest was, a good amount of leaves had found their way there as well.

He regarded the fluttering leaves with disdain. "Do you need any help with these?"

He flicked his head towards the window, and Hinata followed his gaze towards the tremendous amount of leaves that pooled around her porch.

She smiled politely. "That would be nice, Sasuke-kun. The rake is in the shed with my gardening supplies."

Sasuke nodded, donning a thick sweater as he left the warmth of Hinata's well heated home.

The first snowfall followed within the week, and Hinata frequented the village less and opted to stay home. The season did not deter Sasuke from training, and he was steadfast to this activity at least once a day, three hours at a time.

One session he was surprised when Hinata trudged towards him in her snow boots, donning a ridiculously puffy winter jacket and floppy hat.

"Sasuke-kun, sorry to interrupt... but, I need to go to the village for a few things. Usually, I would go by myself but...I just, I need a few more items than usual."

As in, she was planning on buying more because there were two of them now.

A cloud escaped his mouth as he exhaled. He sheathed his sword, hiding the hilt beneath his dark cape. She seemed pleased when he followed her obediently.

The walk to the village was far by foot, and he kept a few steps behind her. She was taking her time, seemingly enjoying the sparkling white scenery that engulfed them. Sasuke had no preferences when it came to weather. Though, he remembered as a child he had loved the snow.

It took about an hour to get to the village. It was the first time Sasuke had ever gone with Hinata there. To call it a village was modest—it was rather developed with many amenities, including a small hospital, a school, a bank, a few restaurants and stores, and of course, housing. The village was located in a large clearing in the middle of the forest, and it was evident that they had sacrificed a few trees in order to expand their growing community.

When they entered the front gates, Sasuke noticed that there were no guards.

They lived in peaceful times now.

As they walked through the village, Sasuke relished how they received no odd stares. Children ran happily by them, donning full snowsuits. Men and women alike strode their own paths. It seemed the whole world had forgotten his face.

Finally, they entered the grocery store. Hinata insisted on pushing the cart, and also did not seem to trust Sasuke to choose the items they needed.

Sasuke did not see what was so difficult about counting apples.

"Hana-chan, you seem cold today," the elderly woman working cash mentioned lightly, scanning each item with care. "Didn't bring a scarf?"

Hinata shook her head, unbeknownst to the odd stare she received from her companion. "It isn't too cold outside."

"It's your birthday next month, you must celebrate. Come to the village, I'd be more than happy to make you a cake," the lady offered, eyes training towards the tall man that stood a fair distance behind Hinata. He was still staring at her intently.

Hinata seemed to notice the woman's gaze, "Oh! He's... this is an old friend."

Old friend?

"Ah, I see," the woman gave a crinkled smile. "You are a handsome old friend, aren't you?"

Sasuke blinked in response.

"He's shy. Like you," the old lady observed sagely. She finished bagging all of Hinata's purchases.

Hinata paid cash and bowed before departing.

As they exited the automatic doors, Sasuke spoke, "I can carry the bags."

Hinata shot him an incredulous glance. "Are you... sure?"

Sasuke regarded the small woman, looking like a pillow herself with at least a dozen bags hanging from her fists. "...Yes."

She sighed gratefully, having difficulty transferring the bags to his hands. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets, gaze forward as she marched back to the entrance of the village.

This time, Sasuke walked at her side.

"She called you Hana. Why?"

Hinata didn't answer.

"Do shinobi ever come through this village?" He asked, absently taking in the scenery of the small village.

"A few. Even some from Konoha. But they never seem to know me."

"Aren't the Hyuga a big deal? Your eyes are a giveaway."

Hinata shrugged. "I never make eye contact... even if I did, I feel like no one would care."

Sasuke said nothing.

"Without my forehead protector... I'm just a normal woman."

This earned a small scoff. "From what I've seen from you, you're anything but normal, Hyuga."

She looked to him, taken aback, "How so?"

"Normal women could not survive like you do," Sasuke stated blandly. "I'm surprised you've done all this by yourself."

Hinata chewed on her lip, cheeks tinged pink at the comment. "That... means a lot to me, Sasuke-kun..."

"Your birthday. When is it?"

"Oh... December 27," she responded softly.

"Did you... want to do something?"

Hinata shook her head, "Not really."

He responded with silence.

On her twenty-fourth birthday, Hinata woke to a lavender turtleneck folded neatly on her chair.

A small piece of paper read: Happy birthday.

The Hokage lay awake in bed, cerulean eyes wearily eyeing the digital clock at his bedside.

9:21 a.m., December 27.

A migraine struck him, and he rolled onto his back, clutching his forehead in pain. His sinuses ached—he had drunk himself to sleep the night before. The spot next to him was vacated. He gingerly touched the mattress. It was cold.

Sakura had gone to the hospital for work.

He slowly rose in bed, figure hunched as he propped his elbows on his knees, still cradling his swirling head. It was then a wave of nausea hit him, and he curdled out of bed and towards the bathroom, retching loudly into the toilet.

He only got like this on this day.

Each year, there was only one day that he set aside from himself, away from his duties as Hokage, which had turned into a demanding 24/7 occupation for him.

Her birthday.

Sakura had not bothered to wake him up, for even she grieved on this day. It infuriated him that with each passing year, less and less remembered. The truth was, the absence of a person, no matter how significant, was something that people eventually accepted. The loss of a loved one, though sad, did not stop the flow of time. As sad as it was, and as difficult as it had been, life went on.

He had been curled up in his bed, when he heard pounding on his front door. He groggily lifted his head, scowling deeply at the sound. He rubbed his temples, managing to leave the comfort of his mattress. Still in his pajamas, he answered the door.

"Hey, Naruto."

"Kiba."

The other man stood sullen on the doorstep, eyes puffy and red with even some purple. The man had not gotten any sleep.

He did not wait for an invitation. The Inuzuka brushed by the Hokage, tossing off his shoes and collapsing onto the inviting couch, groaning softly. Naruto followed his friend's movements, sinking into the cushions next to him, head thrown over the back of the couch.

"It's been years."

"How many?"

"Six."

"That sounds right... six."

Kiba exhaled heavily, chest heaving as he inhaled painfully. "She left when she turned eighteen."

Naruto placed a large palm over his face, trying to suppress the stinging at his eyes and the ache in his chest.

Kiba had his eyes closed, jaw clenched. "Sometimes... I feel like I should have done more."

Naruto peeked at him from between his fingertips. "Kiba"—

"She's really dead, isn't she?"

"No," Naruto insisted, leaning forward again and pressing his palms to his eye sockets. "She's anything right now. But not that. She's not dead."

"How's her old man?"

"Comatose still," Naruto responded harshly, clearing his throat. "I didn't expect it to hit him so hard. I didn't think the guy felt anything."

"How about her clan?"

Naruto sniffed, "Still Hyuga. Proud bastards. Going on, pretending nothing's wrong. They have replacements, and replacements after that. They don't give a shit."

"Disgusting."

"They stopped their search after half a year," Naruto rasped, pressing harder against his eyes. "They just... gave up."

Kiba swallowed, "She's dead to them. They didn't even worry about her Byakugan."

When Naruto finally looked up from his hands, his eyes were swollen and wet with tears. He shook his head, wiping at his face with his sleeve. "I don't know how they do it."

Kiba's contrite gaze fell to the floor, vision blurring rapidly.

"How could she just evaporate like that?"

Kiba shook his head. He had no answer.

Naruto glanced to Kiba. The other man refused to meet his gaze. "The whole damn world can give up. I won't."

Naruto cleared his throat again, leaning back against his couch once more.

Hinata had vanished on the evening of her eighteenth birthday. Naruto had been the last to see her. They happened to be visiting Neji's grave at the same time. He had approached her from behind. He could still picture her. Her hair gleamed in the moonlight, her hands twined behind her back, head bowed as she spoke softly, too quietly for Naruto to catch what she had been saying.

He recalled her outfit. All white. That night she donned a long white skirt, and a white tee shirt. She had not turned to face him, though he had called out to her. She had rubbed at her eyes. When she finally looked at him, her expression had cleared, and she smiled brightly at him as always. If he had not watched her rub fervently at her eyes moments before, he would never had guessed she had been lamenting.

They stood together, side by side, in respectful silence. She turned to him and said something—God, what had she said? Somehow Naruto just could not remember. He pondered over it to that day. Maybe it had been the missing component that would otherwise justify her actions. But as far back as Naruto could recall there had been no buildup. Nothing had happened to suggest that Hinata would run away, without leaving a trace, without notice to anyone.

She had managed to sneak past the tight security and watch of the Hyuga compound, past all the village folk, and past the front guards. By morning, she had disappeared. And the last person who could account for her last appearance was Naruto.

He recalled the furious gazes of the Hyuga. He could not blame them. To this day, he could not bear the eye contact.

Her father had berated him the most. Where was his daughter? Had she said anything to him? Why did he not stop her?

Could he have stopped her?

Questions remained unanswered, and Hiashi could only search for so long. He had reached the end of hope long ago. He had resigned as the Clan head, passing on the title to Hanabi, who had been reluctant, but ultimately, the only choice. Some might have even dared to say before, the better choice.

There was something about Hinata's pacifistic nature. About the way she smiled so easily. Though she had grown stronger, there was an inherent light about her that always made her weaker in the eyes of the Hyuga.

No one challenged her for her right as heiress after demonstrating her strength in the war.

But she seemed to always know the clan's true preferences. It was reflected in their stony stares when she smiled too easily, too much. The way she trained the children of her clan, even. There was a sense of ease, and too much patience for the clan's liking.

And she always forgave.

When she left, she took the warmth from the Hyuga. Everyone noticed her absence immediately. No one laughed. No one played. No one picked flowers with the children.

Hiashi's health deteriorated quickly, until a fatal heart attack struck. Sakura had induced a coma, deciding it would be the only way to keep him alive.

Naruto remembered Hinata as a child. Feeble, innocent, and not as strong as her clan wanted her to be. She had been accused of cowardly, weak, and even selfish at times.

She never had been, in Naruto's eyes.

To Naruto, she became all the things she had hated most about herself the day she abandoned her family and her friends.

He inwardly admonished himself for such thoughts.

Hinata had been presumed dead long ago. Most have tried to repress the memories, but Naruto relayed them as often as he could.

"She's somewhere, Kiba."

Unknown to them both, a small blonde boy sat at the base of the stairs, hardly four, but had overheard the whole thing.

"Happy new year, Sasuke-kun," Hinata greeted him with a faint smile as he entered through the front door, a blast of cold air arriving with him. He shut the door, removing the hood of his cloak and whisking it off, hanging it on an adjacent coat rack.

"It's not even midnight yet," he returned flatly, removing his shoes and setting them aside neatly.

Hinata did not mind his snarky remarks. She enjoyed their banter, although it was usually short-lived. She turned from him, bending to withdraw a bag from the lower cabinet. When she stood to her full height again, it was clear what she had bought.

"...You bought sake."

She flushed, "I thought you might like it. I don't know. Don't men... drink on occasions like this?"

He snorted, "Not alone." He paused, eyeing her sharply. "Unless you'll have some?"

The Hyuga responded by raising her free hand defensively, flabbergasted by the suggestion, "No, n-no I don't drink at all."

"You won't get drunk off a glass," he deadpanned.

"Um..." Hinata withdrew a large bottle from the paper bag, setting it on the table. "I'll have a little bit."

This satisfied Sasuke enough.

Sure enough, they settled on the couch together, flicking on the television to Konoha news. Of course, their hometown was bustling with excitement on New Years Eve. A festival had been arranged, and everyone crowded around the Hokage tower for the countdown.

Hinata and Sasuke each had a cup. Sasuke watched her sip at her drink from the corner of her eye. She had her knees together, her cup resting on her lap. Her gaze was fixated on the television, absorbing the action.

Sasuke languidly sipped at his sake.

"Now, we will start the countdown for New Years!"

The camera displayed all the Konoha civilians. Some even donned kimonos and yukatas beneath their heavy winter coats.

A colossal digital clock was displayed, and some of the civilians onscreen began the countdown from sixty.

"60, 59, 58"—

Hinata glanced to the Uchiha. He had been in the middle of pouring himself another cup.

"What do you usually do on New Years?"

Sasuke smirked slightly, "Drink."

"46, 45, 44"—

"Sorry for... the pathetic New Years," Hinata suddenly stumbled. "Maybe... you'd choose to be out. At... a bar, I don't know. Sorry there's not much here."

"This is fine."

"28, 27, 26, 25!"—

"What do you do on New Years?"

Hinata clutched her cup tighter. "I just... I stay at home. Watch this program."

"Hn."

"19, 18"—

Hinata set down her cup. Sasuke watched this motion from the corner of his eyes.

"I called Hanabi Hana sometimes," Hinata admitted softly, head lowered slightly. "She... liked it. She always thought she was boyish, and... being called Hana made her feel pretty."

"10, 9, 8, 7"—

"She grew out her hair... and I helped her pick flowers before. Things changed when I became heiress. She wouldn't let me call her flower"—

Hinata was silenced by a pair of lips on her own.

The kiss had been quick and chaste. She had been so stunned, she remained still for several seconds. In the background, Konohans cheered, having completed the countdown at some point during her sentence. The newscaster passionately greeted the viewers happy new years, and cheerful music played as the commercials began to roll.

Hinata brought her hands to her lips numbly. Beside her, Sasuke had already reverted to normal. He sipped at his sake as though nothing had happened.

"People kiss on New Years," he justified indifferently, glancing at her.

Her face was a shade of puce. She gave him a mortified look. "Sasuke-kun, that"—

"So that's why you introduce yourself as Hana to the villagers, because of your sister?" Sasuke derided flatly.

When she said nothing, Sasuke turned his gaze to her. The tips of her ears were red, and her jaw was set firmly. She stared at her hands, which were clutching her pants.

"That was your first kiss," Sasuke surmised.

Her silence only confirmed his thoughts.

Maybe Hinata had been a little... weird. Sasuke had suspected she never had a boyfriend. He presumed however, at least, she had been with a man. At least once.

Guess not.

"Twenty-four years old, and never been kissed? Don't tell me you were saving it. That'd be a little cliché, for someone like you," Sasuke mumbled the last sentence, taking a larger swig from his cup.

Hinata swallowed the lump in her throat. "Cliché... w-what do you"—

"Sorry about that," Sasuke apologized insincerely. Suddenly, a sly smirk crept along his lips, "Without my forehead protector, I guess I'm just another man."

Hinata was appalled.

Though she could not be sure if it was because he had stolen her first kiss, or because had thrown her line back at her.

Sasuke was trying to lighten the mood.

The heat from her face would not fade. Sasuke seemed disturbed by her silence.

"Are you crying?"

A small, sardonic smile touched her lips, and she looked to him then. Her face was red, but her eyes were miraculously dry. "I haven't cried in years, Sasuke-kun."

He remained silence, his dark eyes fixed on her expectantly.

Hinata breathed out. "Sometimes... if you just keep crying... and feeling sorry for yourself..." Hinata paused to swallow. "One day, I wanted to cry, but then I couldn't—couldn't bring myself to. I guess you would not know what I mean."

Sasuke inclined his head slightly, but said nothing. Instead, he topped off the liquid in both their cups. He placed her cup in her hands, and nudged it with his own.

"Happy new year, Hinata."

Hinata watched as the man downed his own cup. After a moment, she boldly drained the glass as he had, mimicking his motions exactly. She set the cup down onto the table, looking to him. He seemed mildly impressed.

"This is really shitty sake," Sasuke remarked offhandedly, pouring himself and Hinata another glass.

Hinata gave a short laugh. "I picked the cheapest, biggest one. I didn't think it mattered."

Sasuke emitted a derisive snort, already sipping at his fourth serving. "If you ever plan on buying alcohol in the future, ask me."

She said nothing. She meekly reached for her cup. She pinched her nose as she took another sip, expression sour as she set down her cup. "I doubt I would trust the taste of alcohol after this."

Sasuke switched channels, changing it to an action movie instead. They had missed the first part of the movie. Sasuke hadn't cared for a movie, but did not feel like watching Konoha News any longer. They watched the film in silence, and Sasuke only vaguely followed the plot. From the corner of his eye, he watched Hinata take sips of her cup. Her face was flushed, though he discerned no longer from embarrassment. He kept refilling their cups.

The bottle was emptied.

"Fuck, I'm drunk," Sasuke suddenly announced, leaning back into the cushions and tilting his head back. He lolled his head to the woman at his side.

Though he had definitely finished a vast majority of the bottle, he was pretty sure Hinata was intoxicated as well. She looked at him as though she was surprised he was still there.

"I... I think I am too," Hinata mumbled, her hand pressing against her cheek as she closed her eyes, leaning back. "The room is spinning..."

Sasuke watched as her eyes fluttered open once more. She had nice eyelashes. They were thick, and naturally curled. He tried to recall what other women's eyelashes looked like. He couldn't remember Sakura's eyelashes being that nice. Or Karin's.

"You... make me nervous when you stare," Hinata murmured slightly, hand now obscuring her eyes from him.

"You can't see me."

"I can tell you're staring."

Sasuke frowned, though couldn't bring himself to look away. "Tell me something."

Hinata sluggishly shook her head back and forth. "I don't know."

He scoffed, "I didn't ask anything."

"I... already know my answer then."

"I know you lied about Naruto knowing you're here."

Hinata's hand dropped then, and she stared back at him now, expression muddled. "What... I"—

"Naruto isn't the type to let people run away. He chased me down. He's fucking annoying that way."

Hinata winced at the curse. She shook her head again, sinking deeper into the couch. "I don't"—

"What are you hiding from?" He asked, voice husky as he pushed himself up. He draped an arm over the back of the couch, and she squeaked as his hand found her shoulder, nudging her towards him slightly.

She reflexively moved towards him to get away from his hand, though now they were close enough that she could smell the alcohol on his breath, though she was too disoriented to move away.

The whole room was tilting around her, and her head swam with delayed thoughts and erupting panic. Her stomach swirled, threatening her if she dared to move again. She clutched at her belly, murmuring under her breath as he continued to lavish her with his eyes.

Sasuke brushed her hair from her face. She had her eyes squeezed shut, as if expecting him to strike her.

In her blurred thoughts, she half-mindedly wondered what had led to that moment. Perhaps purchasing sake had been a mistake, though one she could not bring herself to regret. She had never said it aloud to anyone, though it showed; Sasuke's presence had eased the burden of secrecy. He knew who she was, though not well. It was a comfort not to have to hide her identity from him, to just be Hinata to someone.

Despite being inebriated, and without even looking at him, she could feel his hungry gaze on her. She felt that he was stripping her, peeling each layer by layer, so that he could devour her. There was something that Sasuke seemed to want from her.

His desire was so powerful, so tangible to her, that she would just surrender it if she just knew what it was he wanted.

Anything to lift the weight of his stare.

"What... is it?" Hinata all but slurred, turning her face from him.

She felt the couch shift as his weight moved further from her on the couch.

His voice was muffled, presumably by a throw pillow, "Forget it."

At the end, they both fell asleep on the couch.

To be continued

Note: Okay, if anyone accuses me of making Sasuke a lightweight, don't even because a large bottle of sake?

And he drank most of it?

I'm assuming that Hinata is a lightweight. Especially since I picture her as small. I've tried sake (it's gross) and I'm pretty sure I'd pass out if I drank even half a bottle. This isn't like the last time I wrote a story about a drunk Hinata (I was pretty young, don't judge me). This time I've had some... experience, with drinking, let's say.

Anyways, that's not the point. The point is, thank you for those that are following this story, adding it to their favorites, and, of course, reviewing!

Love you all!