Five

"Naruto-kun's hand...is big and strong...and makes me feel safe." - Hinata

Sakura was standing outside of the room when Hinata arrived at the hospital. She wasn't smiling at all, and this immediately made Hinata nervous. Sakura's face fell even more once she saw Hinata standing there, and moved away from the open door.

"Hinata," she began quietly, "I don't really know how to say this, but…it looks like the concussion caused Naruto to lose most of his memory."

Hinata felt her entire world cave in. She was swimming, thrashing around to stay above the surface, but in the end the waves overtook her and she was drowning. "What?"

"He remembers his name, at least. And who he is, that the nine-tails is inside of him…" Sakura trailed off, glancing over at the doorway to Naruto's room. "But I don't think he can recall anything else about anyone…"

"N-N-No, you must be mistaken," Hinata interrupted, her voice shaky. "He remembers me. He has to! Naruto-kun wouldn't—" She stopped midsentence and dashed into the room, where Naruto was sitting up, eating a bowl of hot soup. He had a bandage wrapped around his forehead, but otherwise seemed to be normal.

"Naruto-kun?" Hinata abruptly stopped, and then slowly walked over to sit next to his bed.

He finally looked up at her, but something wasn't right. There was no trace of recognition or happiness in his eyes—it was more like confusion. "Huh? Who are you? Where's the pink-haired girl who was taking care of me earlier? What's her name…Sakura!" He put down his spoon and looked around the room, then back at her. "Do I know you?"

Hinata could do nothing but stare back at him, the situation slowly sinking in. She almost pinched herself, she had to be dreaming. This is just another nightmare. As she clenched up her fists in her lap, her nails dug into her palms, and it really hurt.

This is real.

"I—I have to go." Hinata quickly stood up, knocking over the chair, and ran out of the room. She ran out of the hospital, away from her one true love who couldn't even recognize his own one true love.

"Hinata!" Sakura called after her, but it was too late. She stood there in the hallway for a moment, contemplating on what she should do. She slowly turned around and walked back into Naruto's room.

"Oh, there you are!" Naruto grinned, and held up his tray with his finished dinner. "I'm done."

Sakura took it, but set it down on the table by the door and picked up the chair that Hinata had knocked over before sitting in it. "Naruto…" She was looking at the ground as she said this, but then glanced up at him. "You really don't know who that was?"

Naruto drew his eyebrows together in concentration, but then he shrugged. "That dark-haired, quiet girl? Not exactly."

"She's your—" Sakura stopped, and then shook her head. "Never mind…I'll tell you later." She stood up and began to walk out of the room, taking the tray with her, but then glanced back at Naruto. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Okay, thanks, Sakura!"

The door closed behind her, and he laid down, settling into the bed. She's great, Naruto thought to himself, just my type of girl.

There was something bothering him, however, and he couldn't fall asleep right away.

Who is that other girl? She's pretty too, but…

His eyes slowly closed, and soon he was fast asleep.

For the rest of the evening, Hinata stayed on the rooftop of Naruto's place. She didn't eat dinner, or do anything else. How could she? What was she to do?

After a while, she had stopped crying—she felt numb, and out of tears, if that was even possible. Here I am, crying like I always do in the face of trouble, she thought to herself bitterly. I finally thought that I had changed, that I had become stronger like Naruto…

The mere thought of his name brought that strong ache in her heart, and it was more than she could bear.

Hinata glanced up at the moon in the darkening sky, unable to move. She didn't know what she was going to do from now on. She always knew before, especially being with Naruto. Nothing else mattered in the world.

"Naruto-kun," she whispered softly to herself, and leaned against the cold wall, trying to think of something—anything—other than him.