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Chapter 14: And Buried

The world, paying no attention to the woes and agonies of two people, went on with impunity, eventually forcing Hinata to join its flow again, which she resisted the entire way. She went to her college and signed herself off of the enrollment list as well. Three days later, she drove her car to a dealer, sold it right there, and took the last bus ride she would ever take back to her home. There, she sealed off her links to the outside world and crafted her own protective bubble. For food, she could keep her small vegetable garden and take whatever she wished from there. Everything else she essentially needed, she already had.

Once her basic necessities had been taken care of, she started cleaning the house. Her mother's room was a relatively easy task, as there never was much in it. All she took from it were her clothes and the covers from the bed along with the pillows. Neji's room, however, was much more resistant. Adorning his walls were all those pictures he ever drew; turtles, seagulls, lunchboxes, crabs, skyscrapers, and coconuts. Nostalgia threatened to drown her again, and she nearly lost her composure in the room. Breathing heavily, she leant on the wall and wiped her eyes before starting her task.

Those pictures came off first. Next were the seashell collections that lined every shelf of his room. With a clatter, they all tumbled miserably into her bag. She spent the whole day erasing Neji's imprint in this way until there was nothing left but his desk, his dresser, and his bed.

Taking a break, she stepped back to survey her work. Nothing had been left overlooked. Everything that could have been removed was removed. Her house was now completely safe from memory.

Yet there was one nagging feeling that would gnaw at the back of her mind. She boiled and bubbled like a hive full of ants on the trail for a meal. Something was still there, but she did not know quite what. It was something she needed to get rid of, like Neji and her mother, but it would not yield a name.

The feeling persisted for the entire day. Sometimes, she could feel the word resting tantalizingly upon her lips, only to have it slip away just as she was about to say it. Other times, she would almost forget completely about it; but she never did drive it totally from her mind, so it kept following her every hour.

Eventually, seeking refuge against her restless mind, she went outside to roam the beaches. Though it was a warm night, she still wore a sweater to protect herself from the sea breeze blowing in strong and fast. Her hair billowed and swirled around her as she took small, steady, slow steps in the sand.

She walked until the sun went down and kept on walking until Hinata found herself standing on top of her special hill, the one with the magnolia. There, hanging from the lowest branch, was the swing, swaying gently with the wind. Having nothing better to do at the moment, she sat on it and began to idly kick her heels back and forth. The feeling suddenly stormed her by force again, nearly overtaking her senses. Of its own accord, her tongue started to struggle and probe her teeth as it tried desperately to identify her emotions, but it was not until a swift gust of wind caught her by surprise and knocked her off the swing, launching her headfirst towards the ground.

With a bodily thud and a spray of sand, she toppled and tumbled over in a heap. As she lay there, the feeling continued to grow stronger until it encompassed all of her senses and assumed specific forms for each and every one of them: She could hear her laughter when Naruto pushed her on the swing; she could smell the leaves and the buds of the magnolia in springtime; she could see the brightness of the sun coruscating off of all those brilliant drops of water that leapt from the crashing waves whenever she went out to play on the beach; she could feel Naruto's warm body pressed close to hers when they hugged; and she could taste his lips whenever he grabbed her up in his arms and lowered her down to kiss her.

She picked her head up out of the sand, crying, but the smile on her face pierced through all the gritty dirt and grimy tear tracks that marred its surface. It was a happy smile, even peaceful, the kind of which she had not even hoped to have ever again. Her wound with Neji was still deep; her mother's death had made it even worse, but she could erase their images; she had to, or else the pain they left behind would have killed her.

Because Naruto, he was still alive, she realized, and she loved it. She still loved him; it was that feeling that had resided so obstinately within her mind all day. His absence still pained her, but she could also learn to fill herself with the love he had lavished upon her and dull the ache a small amount.

Now thoroughly tired, she went back inside and fell asleep immediately. The next morning, she went outside, took the swing down, and put it in her room.