AN: I AM TERRIBLY SORRY, BUT YES, I AM BACK. Had to make this short, just foreveryone to know that yes, I plan to continue on with this story. Anyway, Enjoy! Read and Review please!
Chapter V. The Things Left Unsaid.
Shino's mission debriefing took place inside the hospital ward.
The Hokage herself came a few minutes after she was informed he had awoken. Besides the fact that Shino's condition was of concern due to the difference in his body structure, he was also next in line to be the Aburame clan head. It was a show of medical affair just as much as it was political. Unfortunately Hinata was not privy to both matters, and was therefore asked to leave the room, after making sure that yes, Shino was going to be just fine and yes, she can still visit him and yes, he will be discharged from the hospital within a week. He was to take therapy sessions with Shizune for at least a month, and was therefore banned from missions for the whole duration of his recovery period. Meaning, there would be no missions for team 8 as well. She would need to take solo missions – something, quite surprisingly, that she actually looked forward to – or go with other shinobi for her income.
On her way out of the hospital, she comes across Uchiha Sasuke.
It was hard not to notice him with stares following his every move. She stops, plastic bag barely shifting at the change. Inclines her head at him and nods.
"Hello, Uchiha-san."
Revenge would swallow him whole.
He stops a meter away from her, impassive eyes still staring somewhere above her shoulder. He seems to hesitate for a moment – it is only because Hinata is a Hyuuga through and through and is keen about details does she notice this – before giving her a stiff nod. He seems to not want to talk to her. Or was perhaps in a hurry. It made Hinata balk.
"A-Ano, you have an appointment?"
"Hn." A negative.
"I see." He places his hands in his pockets and waits for her to continue. Taking a deep breath, Hinata clears her throat quietly, mouth strangely dry.
And Hinata, you've seen that happen.
"Would you l-like for me to prepare you dinner tonight?"
At this he stiffens in a way that was obvious even to those who weren't of Hyuuga blood. But Hinata couldn't take back her words, neither does she want to, out of necessity. Maybe it was the Hyuuga pride in her speaking, but she doesn't like being in anyone's debt. Gratitude is given where it is deserved.
His eyebrows crease minutely, and Hinata thinks of two things: one, Sasuke was actually quite expressive, and two –
He was indeed physically beautiful, despite the discomfort evident in his features.
"My place. At 7:00," he quietly says. He hesitates again, and Hinata suddenly has the impression that he wants to ask something, before he shakes his head, walking past her and into the Hospital doors.
Hinata sighs. Then remembers that 7:00 is only a few hours away, given the sun's position in the sky. She pauses for a minute to stare, before blinking her eyes and moving away from the hospital and to her home.
There are things needed to be prepared.
You just don't remember.
She hums quietly as she passes through the trodden dirt road. Breathes in and out, timbre and tune quiet enough for only her ears to catch. Most of everything about her is unassuming, except maybe her appearance. (Her self-esteem is by far the worst out of Konoha 12, but a Hyuuga is a Hyuuga, and her looks were but a side-inhertiance). Indigo streaked dark hair and even darker lashes. White skin and lilac-white eyes. A pink mouth.
And now a bandaged forehead branded with a seal.
She supposes things could have taken for the worse though. The itch on her forehead only reminds her of its absence on her sister's. Hanabi – hot-tempered and rash and little Hanabi – did not deserve the mark of the Branch (nobody did, but these are traitorous thoughts that always keep coming). Hinata would sooner die than subject her own sister to something she would not want to experience herself. Hanabi was meant for greater things.
She hasn't seen her for a month now. Hanabi could not face her.
Imouto-chan. Do I repulse you now?
Hinata hides a smile behind her hand; because of course this was not so. Not completely, at the very least. Because Hanabi was Hanabi, untamed and protective, could not for the life of her accept the love and sacrifice that will always be given to her.
How many times can you go through this?, her father had asked, on the night of the sealing. Blood pouring in rivulets down her ears. Tears caked dry beneath her eyes. A hand gripping her chin, calloused and rough and impossibly warm. How many, Hinata?
A scream –
For her, as many as needed.
She stops by the gates, the door opening with a loud, grating noise. Closes it, and makes her way through the front garden. The soles of her shoes are worn down and dirty, so she rubs them against the grass. When she looks up, Hanabi is there, a basket of herbs in hand. It seems she is just as surprised to finally see her.
Before Hinata could call out though, Hanabi's face twists into an angry scowl, eyes slanted and eyebrows forming a crease and mouth bared. She throws the basket in her direction and leaves for the Main House, where she could not anymore follow.
She hears a loud thump, and a cry, followed by more thumps, each one heavier than the last. A temper-tantrum.
(Hinata does not know that Hanabi had expected for her to follow, before remembering she is not allowed.)
As many as needed – and more.
.
.
"I did not expect for you to be here, Uchiha-san."
Sasuke gives a one-armed shrug. The paper bag he carries with him jostles at the motion. He is leaning by the doorframe, both hands tucked into his pockets.
"May I ask what those are?"
"Stuff," Sasuke answers, then more reluctantly, "…hers."
He moves from his position by the wall, makes his way to Shino's bedside. Places the bag by the desk, then puts both hands in his pockets again.
"Give them back."
"I can't."
His eyebrows raise minutely. "You'll get better."
Shino laughs once, the sound low and quiet and sudden. It does not resemble a normal laugh, although it is the most he can give. He rarely finds anything humorous, and when he does, it is mostly dry and morbid. He stares at Sasuke – figure relaxed and expression perhaps incredulous and mostly annoyed – before he exhales a gust of air. It is typical of him, he thinks, ever since he has gotten to know the man, to reassure without the intention to do so, to be blunt and so damn honest even when unwarranted.
"I appreciate your sentiments, but I won't do what you're asking of me."
"You will."
"The reason is simple, Uchiha-san," Shino continues, ignoring Sasuke, "She gave those to you, didn't she? Ergo, those are yours. Why return them?"
"I don't need them."
Shino stays quiet at that.
Sasuke leaves before long, and Shino does not stop him. Both of them never were ones for conversation either way.
He reaches for the bag, not sure of the contents, and takes out something from inside with his one arm.
It's a jar, short but wide and filled with something liquid and dense and green. Shino recognizes it even before reading the inscription written with an elegant script:
For headaches and migraines. External usage only.
He takes out another jar of the same shape, although this time it contained some dark-yellow powder, interspersed here and there with crushed leaves. This one read:
For muscle pains. Mix with hot water until liquid. Taken orally.
He does not know why, but his hand trembles slightly when he returns both jars inside the bag. There are other jars inside, but he has seen enough. Somehow it's as if Sasuke is beside him again, and he hears him say what he surely meant before he left.
I don't need them, but she does.
Shino returns the paper bag by his bedside, makes himself comfortable against the sheets for a long sleep. He dreams of her hands pounding and molding different ingredients into one, something insignificant, she had said at that time, for the person who is.
.
.
.
.
Constructive criticisms are welcomed. Yes, ifyou have noticed, this chapter was rushed. But...