project: Fifty Days
disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
dedication: this one is for Mishirure, because she called me her hero, and I've always wanted to be a hero. (I shall probably send you some brainstorming ideas at some point soon!) ;D
chapter: 21/5o
summary: "In fifty days, Uchiha Sasuke will be executed." For fifty days, she will visit him. For fifty days, he will fall steadily in love.
notes1:
Hi guys!
I am so, so, so, so sorry this always takes so long. I always write half of it, forget that I've started writing, and then end up finishing the second half of the chapter a month later — but I will try my hardest to update quicker this time. I know I say the same thing every single time, but I will actually make an effort this time.
But anyway!
Excuses as to why this is so late: I broke up with my girlfriend, which was pretty tragic, because that was my first time being dumped. I also discovered Supernatural, so I've been obsessing over that. I'm going to see Batman Live at the weekend. I've signed up to join copious Big Bang competitions over at LJ, most of them for Supernatural, but a few for Sherlock, X-Men and Doctor Who. I've got to complete a sketchbook of art in a week and a half, and I've only done a page. I get my first GCSEs tomorrow. I fell in love with Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins, James Mcavoy, Michael Fassbender and Matt Smith.
Life is sweet.
And on with the show. Hope you enjoy!
:D
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Hinata had begun daydreaming a lot more than usual, lately; she'd find herself zoning out in the middle of a conversation, gazing off into the distance and thinking of other things. More often than not, she found herself dreaming of other people — or, rather, one specific person, and that meant a lot more than she was willing to believe. She'd spent a good amount of time wondering why it was that she found herself so transfixed by Sasuke.
She supposed it was because she was the only one who visited him, and thus was his only guest; while she felt an overwhelming surge of pity and despair for her friend, she couldn't help but feel something else, as well. She couldn't place the feeling. It was a little bit of something, which sparked deep inside her; it was powerful, so strong that sometimes it was all she could think of, and she couldn't help but wonder what the emotion was. It wasn't that she was happy she was Sasuke's only guest — that would have been ridiculously, cruelly selfish of her —, but she'd be lying if she said it didn't fill her with a sense of sick power. If she were to stop visiting Sasuke, for any reason at all, he would have no guests. She wouldn't want that, of course, but still, the thought didn't vanish.
Besides, she doubted she'd ever see fit not to visit Sasuke, or to try and attempt to contact him in some way, with letters as she had done before. She was his friend, after all; and friends looked out for one another.
That was also a new feeling.
Before now, she'd never have considered herself to be Sasuke's friend; she hadn't known Sasuke all that well, and had been one of the many who simply watched from a distance. She supposed that was her fault — after all, she was like that with anyone; she had most certainly been like that with Naruto, and she doubted things had really changed between them. Even now, she still watched and admired him from afar, never quite strong enough to really stand as his equal.
But Sasuke…
No, she considered him to be a friend now, and that partly confused her. She hadn't started visiting Sasuke with the intention of befriending him — she'd been thinking only of Naruto, and her heart had screamed out in agony for him; that was why she had begun visiting Sasuke. She hadn't wanted to gain his gratitude or his friendship; while she wasn't one to immediately judge, to say she hadn't been ever so slightly influenced by the general opinion of the traitorous Uchiha was a lie. She had expected him to be far worse than he was; she'd expected initial hostility, sure — he was, after all, a prisoner, and she doubted anyone would be in the happiest of moods if they were captured by enemies —, but she'd expected more hostility and animosity than he'd given.
Really, when she thought about it, he'd been perfectly docile, even from the beginning; there had been a few moments in which he'd snapped at her, but that was only when she had pressed too hard, or when she had snapped at him. No, from the very beginning, she realised with slight shock, he'd been willing and welcome to let her in; of course he'd kept a few secrets from her, but she knew things about Sasuke that she'd never known before. She'd begun to understand his mannerisms; he'd let her in, and she had been more than willing to be let in.
And now, as a result, she considered him a friend.
Hinata couldn't help but wonder if he considered her to be his friend, as well; she doubted she would ever reach the ranks of Naruto and Sakura, who were as close to Sasuke as she supposed anyone could actually get, but the idea that he considered her to be any type of friend was nice. Her cheeks began to heat up at the thought, and she blinked, eyes widening.
"What'cha thinkin' of?"
Hinata practically leapt out of her seat then, letting out a little squeak of surprise as she turned to look at Naruto; she'd been sat in Ichiraku's ramen stand for the past ten or so minutes, her bowl of ramen growing steadily colder in front of her, and she'd once again slipped into her own thoughts, girlishly pondering Sasuke and her friendship and — oh, she hadn't even noticed Naruto slip into the seat beside her. Judging from the gradually growing stack of empty ramen bowls by his side, he'd probably been there for some time. Her cheeks became scarlet with embarrassment, and she offered him an apologetic smile.
"How long have you been s—sat there for?"
"Long enough," Naruto grinned, waving his chopsticks idly. "I spotted you sat here and I thought, 'Hey, I'll go and surprise Hinata!', but you were just sat here all glassy-eyed and staring off into the distance. Ichiraku said you've been lookin' all dopey for some time, but I figure that for you to get such a serious expression on your face, you've got to be thinking about something important."
He scrutinized her, then; he looked at her so fiercely, as if he were staring into her and seeing her properly — it was a stare she was used to from Sasuke, she realised, and she shivered despite herself, trying to pass it off as a half-shrug.
"I was, uhm… just thinking, I suppose."
Naruto didn't stop looking at her, but he did nod slowly, slurping up another mouthful of noodles and chewing slowly. He was still staring at her as if he was trying to figure her out, but Hinata forced herself to ignore that, looking down at her bowl of ramen. Tentatively, she tried a bit; it was stone-cold, as expected, and she regretfully ordered another — she hadn't intended spending so much on lunch, but she was hungry so she figured she might as well. When her dish arrived, so hot it burnt her tongue, Naruto finally looked away.
The pair fell into silence, sat shoulder to shoulder, eating their separate dishes. Hinata decided to rephrase what she'd thought earlier; while she didn't really consider herself to be Naruto's equal, she certainly felt as if she were his equal, sat by his side. She snuck a sideways glance at him, a pang of sympathy running through her; for the past few days, he'd been searching non-stop for Kakashi, but his sensei still hadn't appeared. Obviously that was taken its toll on the usually-sunny boy. He looked weary, with bags beneath his eyes and she supposed it was a trick of the light, but it seemed as if his face had more shadows than usual.
Worst of all, though, was the fact that he was visibly slumped — his entire body seemed to sag downwards, as if he were utterly defeated, and that almost broke her heart. She bit her lip, glancing down at her bowl and then looking at Naruto's steadily-emptying one; then, with a soft sigh, she pushed her bowl over to him.
He glanced up at her, an eyebrow raised. "I'm not hungry," she lied, with a small smile, "But I d—don't want to waste such good food."
Naruto flashed a cheery grin. "Thanks, Hinata! You know you're the best, right?"
"I k—know," she agreed, unable to stop herself; he chuckled at that, shaking his head fondly before dragging her bowl closer to himself. She watched as he twisted the noodles about his chopsticks, slurping them up and smacking his lips, grinning at her all the while; she much preferred Naruto like this, she realised — the silence beforehand had alarmed her. She'd always considered him to be innocent, despite the fact that he had to be one of the most experienced and shattered shinobi she knew; but, despite everything that had happened to him, he still kept his dazzling smile and wished the best of people.
He was still Naruto.
That was pretty amazing in itself, she thought, especially considering everything that had happened to him lately; she felt her heart ache for him, a pang of sympathy running through her as she gazed at him. She'd seen his hurt, when Sasuke had been captured; and that hurt had only intensified into pure, unrelenting agony, when he'd been unable to go and visit his friend. She realised, with mute horror, that the only time Naruto would be able to see Sasuke again was when his friend — his best friend; his brother — was executed. That, in itself, had to be unbearable; but Sasuke's sentence coupled with the loss of his sensei, his surrogate father… She could barely even begin to imagine the pain he was going through.
She realised he was standing up, then, having finished the bowl of ramen she'd passed to him; he stretched, placed some coins down on the counter, and then glanced at Hinata, as if uncertain as to whether or not she was going to follow. She smiled at him, standing up and bowing her head in thanks; she hadn't eaten her ramen, sure, but it was the polite thing to do. Absently, she wondered if there were any cinnamon rolls at home, as she followed Naruto out of the ramen stand and into the busy street.
The market was in full swing, and they walked down the road in contemplative silence, contrasting with the busyness around them. It was as if the entire world was rushing, hurrying, dashing about, but Hinata couldn't see it. All she could think of was the silent, sombre boy by her side, so different to the usual shining spark of happiness he was. When he smiled reassuringly at her, it seemed to be a shadow of his usual grin.
It was as if someone had taken his kaleidoscopic, rainbow smile, and painted it black and white.
Her hand twitched by her side.
She wanted to reach out and touch him, in an attempt to offer him at least the tiniest amount of comfort. She remembered Neji and how much it had terrified her when she'd found Tenten and Kiba, but hadn't seen her cousin with them; that shock and horror, accompanied with a cruel, terrible doubt, had been almost enough to overwhelm her. She'd felt helpless and useless. She wondered, absently, what she would have done if it were Neji everyone was trying so desperately to find; she knew she would be the first in the search party, that much was obvious to her, but what would she do if they hadn't found him? What would she have done if they had simply given up?
She did move her hand then, placing it gently on the crook of Naruto's arm. He ground to a halt and she stopped next to him — then, ever so slowly, he raised an eyebrow, giving her a quick sideways glance. His expression switched from one of bewilderment to one of cold realisation, and he shifted his arm away.
"You don't need to look at me like that, Hinata," he spoke finally, as he turned away from her, wrapping an arm across his chest defensively, "I'm not some little kid you have to tip-toe around, with pity in your eyes; I've… seen worse things. I fought with Pein, Hinata; I saw him strike you down, and I know plenty of shinobi fall in the line of duty. That's how… that's how Jiraiya fell. It's a… a valiant death."
He fell silent then; his words felt false to taste and even falser to hear. Hinata peered at him, reminded of the boy she'd seen a week or so earlier, when she'd come to offer her condolences after Sasuke's capture — he had lashed out at her, claiming she could never understand what he was going through, and she was reminded once again of their differences. She still had everyone she needed, while Naruto seemed to be losing them one by one, an awful domino effect that just wouldn't go away. First Jiraiya, then Kakashi, and eventually Sasuke, too.
He'd been searching for Kakashi for the past few days; in fact, this was the first time she'd seen him return to Konoha for any lengthy period. He was weary and saddened; he seemed to have realised the hopelessness of his situation — because Kakashi was never coming back, she realised —, and that was finally taking its toll on the boy with the sunny grin. This was something he couldn't paint a smile over; he couldn't pretend everything was alright, because it hurt. It hurt just as much as when he'd found out Jiraiya was dead; it hurt and hurt and hurt, and she wondered if he was coupling it with the pain of losing Sasuke — because, despite having found his friend, Sasuke was now even further away than before, being kept at arm's length by Naruto's friends.
Despite the pain, though, she knew she didn't want him to give up.
Partly out of selfishness, partly for herself — she had built Naruto up into something of a hero in her mind; she had never really seen him falter; she had always seen the boy who smiled, the boy who laughed through the pain; the boy who carried on. But, most of all, she didn't want him to give up, because who knew what else would happen, then? Who else would he give up on?
Sasuke.
Unsure of what else to do, she took a step forwards and wrapped her arms around his waist. It was a tentative hug, a tiny gesture of affection that she doubted would really mean all that much to Naruto — but he surprised her, letting out a guttural sob. His fingers, strong and calloused, gripped her wrists; not quite holding her in place, but not really pushing her away either. His entire body was trembling.
She stayed where she was stood, resting her head against his back, holding him tightly; she doubted he'd been held in such a way for a long time, and she wondered absently if she should have a word with Sakura. She dismissed the thought instantly — that was hardly fair on Sakura, who was going through the exact same troubles as Naruto. She couldn't force Sakura to forget about her own worries to comfort Naruto, but perhaps she could drop a few hints suggesting they search for comfort with one another. After all, they're the only two people who could even begin to understand what the other was going through.
For what felt like minutes, they stood like that and, eventually, Hinata's thoughts blurred into nothing. She just stayed where she was, listening to the sound of shallow breathing and a muffled heartbeat.
After an age, Naruto's grip on her wrists vanished, and he shifted slightly; she let her hands drop to her sides. At first, he didn't turn around, his hands flying to his face — she didn't want to think that he was wiping away tears but when he turned around, his cheeks were glistening. Still, he offered her a grin; it wavered to begin with, but then it shone so brightly that it made her heart hurt.
"Thanks, Hinata," he mumbled, sounding ever so slightly bashful; his cheeks were tinged pink with embarrassment. "You always know what to say and do, and… ah… just thanks, I guess. I'll—I'll see you around."
He turned, then, lifting his hand in a lazy wave. Then he shoved his hands into his pockets, and began to walk away, ever so slowly; with his head tilted downwards, he looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. For once in her life, Hinata thought he looked lonely; a little bit lost, really, without his friends — without Kakashi and Sakura and Sasuke and everyone — to ground him. It was as if he were floating off into the distance — a lonely balloon, drifting into a cloudy sky — and Hinata had to run her very fastest to keep up with him.
She knew she would never catch him.
She cupped her hand around her mouth, before shouting after him, "Whatever you do, don't give up, N—Naruto!"
He stiffened.
Then, looking back over his shoulder, he grinned.
"I'll try not to," and his voice was as quiet as a whisper, but she still heard him. "I promise."
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When Sasuke opened his eyes, he was surprised to see Tsunade sat in front of him, her hands folded in her lap as she glowered at him. Her face was mostly impassive, but her true emotions were obvious in her tight-lipped grimace and her flashing eyes; she sat rigid and proud, gazing fixedly at the Uchiha. He would have tilted his head, but he still felt weary from sleep, and so he simply blinked at her, confusion apparent on his features — it wasn't often that he found himself with an audience of the Hokage, and that tended to only ever happen when she wanted something from him.
Still, if she wanted something, that meant she had something she thought he'd appreciate; she had an offer which, were he to accept it, would only end in him gaining something. It would be nice to stretch his legs, now that he thought about it; to roll his arms, pop his shoulders, crack his neck, and to just feel free. The discomfort was really beginning to get to him, as he supposed it would for any prisoner; he figured Ibiki had probably designed the cells to be that way, and he had to commend the older man on his brilliant design — they truly were some of the most uncomfortable things he'd ever had the misfortune to wear, and he was sure his limbs were beginning to cramp up.
God, most of all, he just wanted to walk.
He peered at Tsunade then, hoping that his bored expression would prompt her to hurry up with whatever deal she planned on making; for information, or whatever. He would say no, of course, despite the burning need to move about — he still had his pride, after all, and if there was anything an Uchiha valued, it was their pride. He wasn't about to give in, just because the Hokage thought she had one up on him.
However, when she still made no attempt to speak, Sasuke found himself yawning. "…are you just going to stare at me all day, or did you want something?" He raised an eyebrow, before closing his eyes, his face a picture of blank disinterest, as if he didn't care either way whether or not she decided to tell him what she wanted.
For a few seconds, Sasuke thought she wasn't going to tell him what she wanted.
Then, with a sigh, Tsunade leaned forwards, linking her hands together and staring at Sasuke over the tips of her fingers. "You're a smart boy, Uchiha," she said, before pausing, re-thinking her words. "Well, I suppose that's arguable, considering some of the decisions you've made — but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, and we'll assume for now that you're a smart enough boy. I'm sure you've realised that, as with any other prisoner of war, I'm under a considerable amount of pressure to squeeze every last drop of information I can get out of you."
Sasuke snorted.
Tsunade sighed, pulling her hands apart so that she could massage her forehead slowly. She closed her eyes, sitting opposite him in complete silence — he watched her think, tilting his head slightly as he did so. He was vaguely curious as to what sort of conclusion she'd come to; he could tell she was getting desperate. Earlier, he'd thought she'd had something on him — something she could try and use against him — but he was wrong.
Finally, she let out a long, weary sigh.
"There are many different ways I could go about this, Uchiha," she murmured. "I could torture you under the vain hope that you broke — that you snapped and gave in — but, considering how well that's worked prior to this moment, I doubt that'd help any, even if Ibiki thinks differently. You're strong; that's how you were trained, and you were trained by only the greatest — because no matter what I personally think of Orochimaru, he was one of the greatest. No, torture wouldn't work, and I know that — so I could try demanding the truth from you. I could say that you owe it to your village—"
He scoffed at that.
The Hokage carried on as if he'd never made a sound.
"—I could say that you owe it to your friends; to Naruto and Sakura and Kakashi — hell, even to Hinata. I could say that but," and she paused, regarding him coolly, searching his face for any signs of recognition — for any signs that he might be breaking, that he might tell her anything, and she sighed, because his feelings were well masked and hidden, "But I know it wouldn't work. So I'm going to, for lack of better words, pull out my trump card."
She hesitated then; she looked mildly irritated with herself, as if this was something she hadn't wanted to do, but there was also a small amount of hope in her eyes. She looked up. She met Sasuke's stare, and her gaze was cool, even, steady.
"Kakashi is missing," she spoke. "I'm sure you're aware of that fact."
"Hn."
"We have reason to believe he was taken by the Akatsuki; he hasn't been found yet. We have his last known co-ordinates, helpfully supplied by Hyuuga Neji, here," she gestured for Ibiki to step forwards.
He did, carrying with him a map.
He spread it out across the table, unfurling the edges; it covered most of the surface, and Sasuke could only just make out the different villages on it. It didn't matter, though — he knew the map almost off by heart. It was a standard issue map, one that was given to all Konoha shinobi, and he'd memorised it back when he was a genin, under Kakashi's strict supervision. Sakura had remembered where everywhere was first of all, because Sasuke had let himself get distracted by Naruto; they'd spent most of their time scowling and muttering insults at each other. Eventually, however, he'd gotten to a point where he could sketch out a rough copy of it on his own.
Sasuke stared down at it, an eyebrow raised. There was a red capital X marked somewhere in a patch of forest, not too far away from Konoha, heading in the direction of Kirigakure. Something hurt inside him then, and he suddenly felt heavy; that was where Kakashi had last been seen. He stared at the spot until his eyes went blurry.
Then he looked back up at Tsunade.
She was watching him carefully with a hawk-like intensity, an unfamiliar expression on her face; when she caught his gaze, her lips curled into a smile. He thought she looked slightly triumphant. He looked away.
"You want my help," he stated blankly. "Why?"
"I thought it was obvious," she replied, her voice cool. "I want to save Kakashi."
He stared at her.
He felt tired.
"That's a lie," he murmured, and his words were laced with a thick darkness, something deadly and poisonous. "Those aren't your sole intentions, whether they are your intentions at all. Tell the truth."
Tsunade scowled then, glowering at the Uchiha.
"Like I said before, brat; you're smart enough. I want nothing more than to find and save Kakashi — and that should be more than enough for you to help out. We should be trying to save him, not talking… politics, or whatever this nonsense is. But fine — fine. I also need to show results; I need to prove to the Elders, to the Council, that my decision to let Hinata continue visiting you was a good decision. I fought tooth and nail, saying that you wouldn't buckle under violence — you're not a bad guy. True, you're not a good guy either, per say, but you're not a bad guy."
He was silent for a moment, pouring over this new information. He closed his eyes, reshuffling the facts, trying to figure something out; absently, opening his eyes again, he peered down at the map. His eyes fell on the red X almost straight away. It was a beacon. It was a bullet. It hurt to look at, bright and angry and violent, and he felt as though it was mocking him — that was where Kakashi was, or somewhere near there, but he was useless.
He met Tsunade's gaze.
"I see."
"Will you help us?"
Sasuke looked back at the map again, sighing. "I can't."
"…why?" Her voice was dangerous — a near-hiss, her knuckles turning white as she leaned forwards, gripping the edge of the table so tightly that her fingers began to crush it.
"I have no relevant information," he explained, making a little shrugging motion — or it would have been a shrug, had he not been so tightly bound. "There are no Akatsuki bases near there, as far as I can remember; but I wasn't exactly a long-term member. There was an abandoned town a few miles north-east of that area, though; I passed through it with—"
He blinked, cutting himself off.
He had passed through the village with Team Hebi when they were hunting for Itachi; he remembered, because it was the closest he had ever gotten to returning home. Absently, he realised he hadn't thought of Team Hebi once; when he'd gone to fight Itachi, he had practically abandoned them, disappearing without a trace — he hadn't been entirely sure he would win the fight, and so he'd left them behind.
Thinking of them now, he felt a sharp pang.
He wondered whether or not Suigetsu and Karin were ripping each other apart yet, or whether Juugo had managed to act the mediator between them and calm them down before they could kill each other. He wondered if, in return, Suigetsu and Karin had figured out how to stop Juugo when he went on rampages. He wondered if he'd pissed them off by leaving. He wondered if it was Naruto and Sakura and Kakashi all over again—
And then he decided to stop wondering.
Dismissing the thoughts, he cleared his throat — and his mind —, his expression turning blank. "I passed through it with my old teammates. We stayed there for a week or so. It was only small, mostly old shacks with a few empty market-stalls. They could have stayed there — but, if they did, they'll have left by now."
"We can't be too sure."
"We can," Sasuke replied. "They'll be gone."
And Kakashi would be dead.
The words weren't said, but they were left hanging in the air; they were so obviously there, so apparent to all those in the room, that Sasuke thought he could almost see them. Tsunade fixed him with a sceptical, searching look, before nodding sharply, standing up. "Alright, Uchiha," she said, nodding again. "Thank you for your co-operation. We will find him."
"Hn."
He watched patiently as she walked over to the door. Ibiki was first out, holding it open for the Hokage, but she stayed where she was; her shoulders were tense and she was slightly hunched over. He couldn't see her expression, but she turned around and he decided he'd preferred it when he hadn't seen her face.
Her eyes were sad.
Pitying.
"Earlier, Uchiha, when I told you about Hinata," she said, and he didn't reply — he didn't even acknowledge she'd spoken, just continued staring straight through her in the hope that she'd leave. "She didn't come here with the intention of pumping you for information; in fact, that was the last thing she wanted to do. She's made no leeway, because she hasn't been trying — because it's the last thing on her mind. That's a good thing, I suppose, but it's also bad; if you don't tell her something soon, if she doesn't report to me with something helpful, she won't be visiting you anymore."
She sighed.
"She's a nice girl, Uchiha."
"I know."
"Try not to hurt her too much," she said, and with that the Hokage was gone.
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When Hinata went to visit Sasuke that evening, she found that he was oddly quiet. Upon entering the room, he didn't even look up; he didn't acknowledge her at all, staring steadily at a spot on the wall opposite him — he didn't even glance at her when she sat down in front of him. Behind her, the ANBU exchanged glances, but that meant nothing to Hinata, and she found herself bewildered.
She sat in silence for a moment, before finally speaking.
"Uhm…"
He didn't even look at her.
That sort of stung.
She flinched, looking away, feeling her cheeks flush scarlet. "I, ah—I… Hello, Sasuke. Are you—? Do you—? I mean, I w—wondered… I…"
Finally, he looked at her.
Hinata wasn't sure whether she should feel relief — which she did at first, and it coursed through her, involuntarily causing her to smile and let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding — or cold horror, because the look he gave her was so unlike any other look he'd given her before. It was cruelly blank; cold and indifferent, as if she was nothing and had always been nothing, and it shocked her, because she'd thought they were… Well, she'd thought they were more than this. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
She couldn't hold his stare for too long; it made her eyes prick painfully, and she could feel them heating up, and that was the last thing she wanted. It was the last thing she needed. She swallowed, but her mouth felt dry. While she couldn't meet his gaze, she could look at other parts of him, and she focused on watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat, her eyes tracing his collarbones, trying desperately to distract herself from that cold stare. Her shoulders hunched and she shrank down in her seat, huddling in her jacket, staring resolutely at his chest.
She wondered if that was really any better than meeting his stare, but she banished the thought. Then she realised she was being a coward. Biting her lip, she looked up.
His lips curled into a half-smile.
It was crooked and sad and tired, but it was definitely a smile.
She let herself relax.
"The Hokage visited me earlier," he said quietly, and she tensed, blinking; she tried to figure out what Tsunade could have wanted, but her thoughts were still muddled from trying to figure out that intense stare — she didn't notice him watching her carefully. "She wanted information to help her find Kakashi."
She didn't question the careful indifference in his voice. It wasn't in her place to mention it, but she did feel a pang of sorrow for him; it must have been evident in her eyes, because Sasuke's own eyes flashed momentarily. There was something there she didn't understand. It looked like confusion, but that didn't make sense. There was betrayal there, too — hurt and anger and sorrow, and none of it made any sense.
Hinata decided she'd think about it later.
Instead, she offered a weak, hopefully comforting smile, and said, "They'll find him, S—Sasuke."
"They will," he agreed, but his tone was off. He sounded solemn; he wasn't optimistic, and he was already preparing himself for the harsh truth. He'd already given up. "Especially if Naruto's on the case. That idiot never knows when to give up," he almost chuckled, and his expression turned vaguely fond.
She didn't reply.
The conversation lapsed into silence then.
She took the opportunity to peer at Sasuke, trying to figure out what had happened; that couldn't have been all there was to Tsunade's visit. He was acting strange, differently to usual. She wouldn't say anything, but she thought he was acting a little bit like he was trapped — she supposed that was a silly thought really, since he was trapped, but he'd never acted like it before. She'd always felt as though he just wasn't — like he was only there because he let himself be there.
Now, though…
Now he seemed smaller.
Older.
She wondered what else the Hokage could have said to make him act in such a manner; she wondered what it was that could have hit him so hard, so powerfully, that even he wasn't able to mask his true feelings. He wasn't able to hide the fact that there was definitely something wrong. It was plain on his face, in his actions, in his words, in his silence — and she desperately wanted to ask, but she felt that he wouldn't tell her even if she did. She thought he'd probably just dismiss her questions and change the topic.
She didn't like that, though; she'd hoped that by now he felt as though he could confide in her. Obviously she wasn't expecting to know all of his deepest, darkest secrets — he was Uchiha Sasuke, after all. She doubted anyone would ever get to know his darkest secrets. No, she just wanted to be someone he could trust to tell about the little things. She wanted him to tell her what was bothering him.
She knew she wouldn't say anything.
Instead, Hinata settled for fiddling with the hem of her jacket, biting her lip as she snuck glances at him from her seat. She bent forwards, hiding behind her hair; it was a habit she'd gotten from when she was younger. Back then, while her hair had been shorter, her fringe had been heavier; it had almost always hung into her eyes, and probably didn't help her sight, but she'd never made any real effort to cut it. It was only ever when Kurenai had told her to that she'd do such a thing. Her hair was the perfect shield.
"How are you?"
She let out a little frightened squeak. She'd been so lost in her own thoughts that the sound of Sasuke's voice had taken her completely by surprise. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk curling across his face as he stared down at her; she flushed scarlet.
"I, ah — I've been fine, thank you," she said, still fiddling with her jacket, still hiding behind her hair. "Y—you?"
He looked at her as if that was the most ridiculous question she could ask, but he answered anyway. "All things considered, I've been fine."
"That's — that's good."
"Indeed."
They fell into silence again.
Hinata wondered why she was so nervous. Her palms were sticky and she couldn't stop fiddling with her jacket; she could feel her heart thudding in her chest, pounding so loudly that she was certain he had to be able to hear it. It was all she could hear. She thought maybe these nerves were coming from Sasuke's earlier stare and the fact that something was so obviously bugging him — and a part of her kept nagging her, saying that it was something to do with her.
She was somehow involved.
But that didn't make any sense.
"Why do you keep doing that?"
Hinata managed to stop herself from squeaking this time, but she couldn't stop herself from jolting in her seat, jerking upright. Sasuke was gazing at her with a mixture of amusement and fascination across his face, peering at her as if she was an extremely interesting type of animal; instantly, her cheeks began to heat up.
She mumbled, "K—keep doing what?"
"Ducking."
She found herself confused.
He rolled his eyes, elaborating, "You keep dipping forwards, hiding your face, letting your hair fall in the way of—" He cut himself off, looking embarrassed; absently, she wondered what it was he'd been about to say. "In the way of your eyes. Why?"
"I, ah…"
Hinata blinked.
"It's a nervous habit," she said and, as she did, she found herself dipping forwards again, this time with her fingers pressing together, pushing her fingertips against each other and sort of battling with her fingers. "It's from my childhood. I, ah — I know it's stupid to complain about it, but I never had the greatest relationship with my father. He was always… he was always expecting too much from me, and I tried, I honestly did, but I—I never could meet his expectations. I was in a constant state of nervous anticipation, I g—guess, always hoping that today would be the day."
Absently, she thought of her father.
She thought of the way he'd acted when she was smaller; of his disapproving his gaze and his stern, cold face. He'd always seemed like such a distant figure; like a statue of a king, that she was only able to gaze upon from afar. Now, though — she thought of her father yesterday, and his hesitant, uncertain "I was worried"; it still brought a smile to her face.
"I still do it because — because it's habit, I suppose," Hinata murmured finally, shrugging her shoulders.
Sasuke tilted his head and peered at her.
For a while, he didn't say anything.
She squirmed beneath his gaze, trying to resist the urge to hide behind her fringe again; biting her lip, she managed to brave his stare. While she didn't exactly sit with her back straight and her head held high, she did manage to keep looking in his general direction, with her chin tipped slightly downwards and her shoulders slouched.
Eventually, he spoke again.
"You should stop," he said, and a tiny smile flickered across his lips. "I prefer seeing your eyes."
Almost as soon as he'd said it, he looked affronted, terrified of the words; if it had been anyone else, she would have said the expression was comical. It was Sasuke, however, and she couldn't understand why he looked so appalled at himself. The expression was fleeting, though, and was soon replaced with his usual mask of indifference. She tried to ignore the warm tingling in her fingertips, in her stomach, in her heart, attempting to coax more conversation from him.
When it became apparent he wasn't going to speak again, she let out a sigh, standing up. She nodded her head in his direction, heading over towards the door — she lingered there for a moment, just hovering in the doorway.
Then, with another sigh, she said, "Goodbye, Sasuke," and left.
As she walked down the corridor, she tried not to replay his words over and over again. She felt like a giddy school-girl with a crush, but it wasn't quite for the same reason as that; this wasn't the equivalent of having Naruto tell her he preferred seeing her eyes — that would have made her feel warm, sure, but in a different way. She would have felt elated then, ecstatic, over-the-moon, anticipating whatever else that lead to.
No, this was different.
"I prefer seeing your eyes."
It made her feel golden like summer.
Walking along, Hinata couldn't stop the silly smile from blooming across her face. She didn't even know why she was smiling. She figured it probably had something to do with the fact that the evening sunset was more beautiful than ever, but she didn't think too deeply about it.
.
.
.
notes:
Again, another hopeful little ending there — although, Sasuke's reaction to his little slip-up was probably less than pleasing. Sorry this took so long guys, but I promise, I will never give up on this fanfic! :)