Dreams of Summery Laze

by PianoCoat

Modern AU. On his way to graduating from university, Shikamaru spends his last summer revisiting his small, quaint hometown. Hinata Hyuga, who has always watched life rush past her, is more than surprised when her childhood best friend returns home and brings a little too much excitement to her inactive lifestyle.

7. Chapter 7 - Outro

- Dreams of Summery Laze -

I'm your king.

---

A/N: There will be another author's note at the end of the chapter, but I quickly wanted to pop in and apologize for the time it took for me to post this. Midterms were throwing me in hoops that I didn't know even existed. But they're (mostly) finished, and now I have this for you all to enjoy.

Also, I'd like to add a bit of a warning to this chapter. There are mentions of overdosing and depression in this chapter. Nothing graphic, of course, and most of it does not go beyond implying; but if you would like to skip these topics, either scroll down until you see 'Chapter 7', or consider not reading this chapter.

---

The last noise she heard from #1 was screaming.

Then . . . nothing.

Not a noise. Not a peep. Not a sigh that would drift down the hallway to arouse a flutter from little Hinata's heart. It was so silent - so frightfully mute - that even the buzzing nerves in her ears were no longer audible.

That was the first time Hinata came face-to-face with that unsettling quiet. Age five, hovering in the living room, clung to her cousin's left arm as she watched her uncle pace by the sofa, she was scared. It was like every sliver of sound had frozen in the air, left quiet for eternity. Even her own thoughts could not reach her, and that was the scariest thing ever.

Suddenly, like the screaming, her uncle stopped.

She'd never seen him so pale before. That sort of shade was only meant for her mother - the kind that foretold a river of pain as a child came into the world. Hizashi couldn't do that . . . right? He wouldn't be screaming like her mother, right?

"Momma," she had whispered, reaching out for that large, white hand that hung, limp, at her uncle's hip. "I can't hear Momma."

Strong fingers squeezed hers tightly, and water came to her eyes at the pain, but she didn't dare make a sound. She was scared if she started screaming, she'd stop, too, and it would go back to that hovering silence. Hizashi pushed her closer to Neji and looked at them with stern eyes.

"Watch her," he told his son, "and do not move."

After that, he left down the hallway, to Papa and Momma's room. They did as they were told and stood like statues, frozen with the soundwaves around them. It was getting to that scary quiet again, but then, to Hinata's relief, wailing returned to her house. She smiled a bit and curled her hand into Neji's sleeve, watching his face, wondering why he wasn't as enthused as she felt.

Because Papa . . . was helping Momma yell again.

...

#2 had white foam dripping from the corner of blue lips.

He was . . . sleeping, which Hinata was very glad about, because he didn't get to sleep much at night. Usually, he went to bed early in the morning, and she wouldn't get to see him much; so it thrilled her to see that he was finally getting back on schedule.

Only . . . he was on the floor, and Hinata wondered why he would possibly prefer that over his bed.

"Papa," she said, leaving the doorway to slink over and move his shoulder. "Don't sleep on the floor. It's bad for your back."

He didn't shift, and she tried to grab his hands to drag him up. They were cold. Scared that he would freeze in his sleep, Hinata quickly tugged the quilt off of the bed and covered him with it, tucking in his feet like he used to when she was little. Rubbing his arm, hoping the friction would help him warm up, she stared at his alarm clock, saw it was a few minutes before midnight, and hoped that he would wake up soon.

Papa had never missed No Time before.

Then, her eyes caught sight of a note next to the clock, beneath several pill bottles. She reached up and grabbed it, surprised to see his handwriting sprawled across the crisp, white paper. She didn't get to see it much. He'd stopped writing after Momma died, for whatever reason. But it was a beautiful, curvy sort of handwriting that Hinata wished to learn one day. The way he wrote his Rs was so . . . sturdy, and she skimmed the note to find as many as she could.

Sorry.

Regret.

Recover.

Farm.

Sorry.

Her.

Mother.

Father.

Sorry.

Strong.

Sorry.

Really.

Grief.

Sorry.

Sorry.

Sorry.

That silence was back, bringing a panicky bug in her stomach. Hinata dropped the note, touched her papa's hand, found it was still cold, and figured she should bring him more blankets. She snuck out to go to her room, made it to her door, and nearly screamed when the hallway light flashed on. At the end of the hallways was her uncle, who was tying the belt of his robe as he approached her.

"It's late, Hinata," he said, smiling. "What are you doing up?"

Grinning, pushing open her door, she said, "Papa's cold, so I'm getting him more blankets."

"That's very kind of you. I'm sure it makes your father very happy when you help him." He hovered by her doorway, looking down the way, where her father's door hung open. "But both you and him should be asleep right now."

Scooping up her blankets, shoving them under her arm and over her shoulder, she said, "He's already asleep on the floor."

Hizashi's eyes flashed like lightning, and he hummed in puzzlement before leaving, probably to go see her father. Hinata was halfway down the hallway when she heard him yelling her father's name. Scared, wondering if something had happened, she dropped the blankets and rushed over -

"Stop!"

And paused at the doorway.

Her uncle was hanging over Hiashi, hand on his wrist. Those flashing eyes, however, bore into her.

"Hinata," he said, voice calm and narrow, but shaking at the same time, "go to the kitchen and call 911. Tell them the address and that your father is unconscious."

Well, she knew that. He was asleep. "Why -"

"Now, Hinata."

That voice was scary, and she jumped and rushed to the kitchen, uncomfortable with the watery huffing she heard ring in the room behind her.

...

The numbness in her left arm slowly leaving signified the approach of #3.

Sasuke Uchiha was dead.

And the only people who came to the memorial service were the ones that shouldn't be there. Children. Mourning teachers. Folk who barely knew the boy.

But not Uchihas.

Because the Uchihas were gone, and there wasn't even a body to be had at the service, so what was the point of coming all the way back, right?

Hinata . . . hated those people.

Because Kakashi was barely even alive anymore, yet he still came. And Naruto had already experienced enough death in his life, yet he still came. And she . . . had a decaying heart. But she still came.

Thus, in the middle of June, as the sun began to set, a red glow fell upon the mourners as they bowed their heads in silence, and Hinata, in a mute world, felt like she was suffocating.

...

"Hinata!"

Though she hadn't realized it at the time, #4 had started with her name. Looking back, it was obvious. He looked . . . different. Brighter. Happier. Farther . . . away, almost. But she was too focused on her bleeding knee to really notice anything else.

She hadn't meant to fall - no one really does, she supposed. But still, it was embarrassing, especially when he had decided to pop his head around the trunk of the weeping willow tree just as she had lost balance on the tire swing and plummeted to the ground below. It wasn't that she was even swinging, really. Hinata had just been sitting, swaying only a few inches forward and backwards as the wind pressed against her face. Apparently, she couldn't even do that right, and now she was cradling her right knee, caked in dirt and blood.

Hot tears stung her eyes as blonde hair, shining almost heavenly in the setting sunlight, fell in her view as Naruto crouched down next to her. "Don't touch it." Never had she imagined a twelve-year-old sounding so aged, but it was even more strange to hear it come from him. So strange, if fact, that she had nearly forgotten the pain in her knee. "Let me help ya, Hinata."

But then . . . it became obnoxiously clear that the little distraction wasn't the only reason for the passing pain.

A tan hand wiped the muck away from the cut on her white skin, thumb not demonstrating an ounce of hesitation as it brushed, firmly, yet gently. And with the mess away, Hinata was given a clear view of her skin morphing and stitching together. All color left her face, and stars blinked in the corners of her vision as her stomach jumped and rolled nauseously. Her head, foggy, tilted back, and there was a gasp before a hand reached around and latched onto the back of her skull, bringing her back into an upright position.

"Oh God - I'm so sorry, Hinata!" Naruto yelled, wiping his dirty hand on the grass before, in a tentative gesture, grasping her left arm. "I'm sorry. I should have warned ya or somethin' - he always tells me to warn people before I do it." He snapped away, suddenly, and Hinata curled her hands into the ground to keep balance. "Think, Naruto! I know you ain't good at it, but for Heaven's sake, at least try!"

He fell into muttering to himself, fingers wringing together. Hinata watched for a moment, still trying to piece things together. When she looked to her right knee, there wasn't even a scar, and it made her wonder if anything had even happened at all.

Slowly, she met Naruto's sheepish gaze, and asked, "Am I . . . dreamin'?"

Blue, wide eyes blinked, then crinkled, then shined like the sun.

"Of course not, Hinata!" And his laugh was nearly as loud as Shikamaru's thunder. Nearly. "Unless we're, like, in the same dream. That would be weird." Naruto scratched the back of his head, laughter calming into chuckling as his lips turned into a shy smile. "But - well, I reckon healin' scars like that is pretty weird, too."

So she hadn't just imagined it. He really had . . . healed it.

"It ain't weird," she whispered. "It's amazing."

"You almost fainted."

"I . . . wasn't expectin' you to do that."

He smiled. "Sorry."

"How do you . . . ?"

"Um." He pushed himself off the ground, reached out, and helped her to her feet. "I don't know," Naruto said, still smiling. "I just do it."

Hinata understood what he meant. Shikamaru had a similar explanation when he had first revealed to her that he could control the clouds. "It just happens," he had told her back then. "Clouds are just really good at listenin' to me."

"Maybe . . . skin listens good to you, Naruto."

"Listens?" His eyes flickered to her knee, and he shot her a lopsided grin. "Skin can listen?"

Blushing, she folded her hands together and mumbled, "Clouds can, so why can't skin?"

He didn't say anything, which was odd. She focused on him and found that he was looking down the side of the hill. A few years ago, in fifth grade, they would have seen Shikamaru down there, waiting with a slight tilt to his mouth, probably rolling his eyes at her weak attempts at convincing Naruto to be her friend. For a split second, Hinata had almost expected to see him there.

But he wasn't.

Instead, it was their fourth grade teacher, Mr. Umino.

And Naruto - he had a face she thought she'd never see again. The glowing kind - not the kind of glowing she did when she was happy, but rather the kind that just made the entire world seem better when you bared witness to such an expression. It used to come to him naturally whenever he was talking to Mr. Hatake - but, well, he was gone, and Hinata had been afraid that he had taken Naruto's glow with him.

But it was still there, and she was beyond happy.

Naruto waved to the man, yelling his name, before turning to Hinata. She almost melted at the sight of his grin.

"I guess it's time for me to leave." He grabbed her hands with his, bringing a slight flush to both of their faces. "Look - that thing you saw - with the knee. I don't know much about it. Can't do much with it. Small things like cuts 'nd all are easy, but beyond that - missin' arms 'nd broken noses 'nd all that - well, I don't know how to work with them. But - but I will because I'm gonna be a superhero, and superheroes can do anything!" His fingers squeezed hers, and for the first time since the day she was born, her heart didn't hurt when it jumped and pounded in her chest. "And when you see me next, Hinata, I'll be so strong that I'll even be able to heal hearts."

H . . . Hearts?

Heal hearts?

Heal her heart?

Was that . . . even possible?

"R-Really?" Something slid down her face, and she shook her head and tried to hide it. "You will?"

He laughed and nodded, letting go of her hands to stuff his own in the pockets of his shorts. Hinata quickly wiped at her face and smiled at him, hoping he understood that she was beyond happy. Her face reflected the beams of the setting sun, warming her, filling her with light. Naruto gawked as he basked in her glow, eyes shining with wonder and awe.

Pink came to his face, and he backed up, muttering that he had to leave. He turned, took three steps down the hillside, paused, turned, and called to her once more.

"That thing you said - about skin listenin' to me." His eyes blazed with the same power in his smile, in his voice, in his hands that stitched her knee together. "Well, I dunno much about skin listenin', but I know for sure the heart does, Hinata! And just wait - before you know it, you'll heart will listen to everythin' I say!"

And with that, he howled in laughter and skipped down the hill, to Iruka's side.

The world was bursting in light, in sound ("Sayin' goodbye to your girlfriend, Naruto?" "What? Ew, no way! Hinata and I are just friends, Dad!"), in warmth. But Hinata didn't see or feel or hear any of it.

And for ten years, that was all she remembered of Naruto Uzumaki: the runaway boy who was the only one her heart would listen to.

...

#5 was sudden, out-of-the-blue.

At least, for her, it was.

"You're as lovely as ever, Natsu."

Because the day had started off with her uncle talking to the hens, and it had seemed like any other day in Cassoday.

"Come here, Hinata."

He had such a gentle voice, unlike his twin brother. The kind that could soothe a crying child within moments. Sometimes, Hinata wondered if Neji would ever have that voice.

Leaving the doorway of the coop, Hinata did as she was told and came to his side. Natsu ruffled her feathers and eyed Hinata, clucking quietly, leaning a bit into Hizashi's hand, nudging it with her head. The man chuckled and swept his thumb along her crown. They had always loved him - the hens. Hinata liked to think they gossiped about her handsome uncle when he was away, though Neji always told her that chickens couldn't understand humans talking. He would always roll his eyes when he'd catch his father chatting with them like they were friends. But Hinata . . . loved it.

Because . . . her uncle had a calm voice.

Like her father.

Her father had one, too, long ago.

Stop it, she told herself, blinking her eyes and frowning. Stop comparing them.

"What is it?" she asked as Hizashi pulled his hand away from the hen's head.

"Get it." His head nodded towards the hen. "The egg."

She moved forward, reached out, and slipped her hand under the hen. Her fingers reached through the feathers and hay, came upon something smooth, grasped it gently, and pulled it out from under Natsu.

"Thank her," Hizashi said with a smile as she placed the egg in the basket.

Hinata turned back to the hen and bowed her head slightly. "Thank ya, Natsu."

He chortled as he moved to the next nest. "They taste better when ya thank them, y'know."

"Neji doesn't reckon so," she said, watching him move from nest to nest with ease. He was graceful, too, like her father had been - well, when he wasn't drunk, of course. "He says they always taste the same to him."

Hizashi sighed, but not with disappointment. "That boy, I swear. He needs more imagination."

This situation - it was all she had wanted in life. Just . . . chatting. And she knew it was wrong - horribly wrong - but sometimes, when she could get away with it, she'd pretend her father was alive and replacing her uncle. It made things easier. It made her feel like she was getting those moments that were stolen away from her all too soon.

"No one can be as imaginative as you, Papa." But . . .

It came with a price, those moments of pretending. Because, eventually, her imagination would get the better of her.

Her uncle's pale face shot her way, eyes wide and honing in on her, giving her nowhere to escape. She blushed in shame and backed away, dropping her gaze to her feet.

"Hinata -"

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

She didn't have to look to know he was approaching her, slowly, as if not to scare her away. But it didn't matter. She was already halfway out the door.

"Hinata!"

That shout created a terrible ruckus in the coop. The hens must not have ever heard such a gentle man use such a loud, crisp tone. But Hinata had. Years ago, on that night when foam came to her father's mouth.

Stupid, Hinata! He's your uncle. Papa's dead. When will you realize that and -

A loud thump sounded behind her, scaring the nearby cicadas into thrilled screaming. Whirling around, wondering if the door had somehow fallen off the coop, Hinata witnessed the horrible sight of his form on the cool grass outside of the coop, face forward, red leaking from his forehead. She didn't know how it happened or what could have caused such a sight - all she knew was that - that -

"No. NO!"

Time was repeating itself.

"Not again!" She ran to his side, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him, as if that would somehow bring him back. "Don't do this again!" And, suddenly, she was back in that room, freezing and trying to bring warmth back into dead hands. No cicadas, no hens - just a clock, a note with curvy Rs, and foam. "Wake up!"

But he didn't.

He hadn't the first time, and he wouldn't the second.

...

There were many things that made #6 so fucking painful.

The most obvious was that he was gone. The one who was always there. The one who promised to never leave. The one who made the clouds dance so that she could live a little longer.

But what she focused on, mostly, was the irony of it all. Because she loved him, and he left. Usually, when stuff like that happened, he was supposed to take her heart with him, and she was supposed to feel like she would never love again. But he didn't even do that. She still had that heart of hers, and now it hurt more than anything else in the world.

Hinata . . . hated it.

Everything.

The silence. The loneliness. The people who left her.

Especially them.

Damn her mother for not being able to give birth to her second child. If it were that hard, she shouldn't have had Hanabi in the first place!

Damn her father for being a coward.

Damn Sasuke for having one arm. Things would be much more different if he JUST had another one.

Damn Naruto for healing her knee, but not staying long enough to heal her heart.

Damn her uncle for always following his twin brother's shadow.

And damn Shikamaru for not taking her heart, because even he knew how pathetic it was.

And now, when it wasn't freezing, numbing silence, all she ever heard was those pitying whispers, dragging her down further than she already was. "Oh, Hinata," they'd tell her, "it's not your fault. It was never your fault."

Liars - the lot of them.

It had to have been. They wouldn't be gone if it weren't.

And now . . . .

Well, there was no now, really. That concept had left her mind the minute Shikamaru had stepped foot on that ferry, never to return again. And there was no future, either, because Hinata had lost hope for that, too. All that remained was the past, creeping into her dreams, flittering behind her eyelids every time she blinked, echoing in the curve of her ear.

No more Neji or Hinata. No more of Konohamaru, who had just moved in with them. No more of Kurenai. No more of the acquaintances she made in highschool who checked up on her every now and then. No more Yoshino or Shikaku.

Just . . . dead people.

That's all Hinata remembered.

Dead people, and people who left her for dead.

When will it stop?

And sometimes, on days like today, when the sky was so crystal clear that she couldn't even pretend there were clouds about, she'd forget about the yearning, too, if it were even there in the first place.

And without the yearning - for him, for them, for life, for happiness, for joy, for freedom -

I want it to stop!

Silence would come, and she could finally hear her heart. The real one. The one that didn't exist because, well, if it had, things would be different. It was a quiet thumping that somehow reminded her of her mother's, even though she knew she had been too young to remember something as vague as that. But it was there, and she hated it.

Thus, on that summer morning, minutes before the sun would brighten the empty sky, Hinata was on the side of a hill far beyond her home. She didn't go to the northern hills, much. There were rumors of a demon lurking there, and unlike the curious children of Cassoday, she had no mind to investigate. And she still didn't. Interest was not why she hiked up the hill, but rather because . . . Hanabi hated ghost stories, so she wouldn't dare show her face there. And . . . next to an old house was a field of sunflowers, and Neji was allergic to them. There was no reason for him to go up there.

It was perfect.

She would be alone.

And as her bare feet found the chipped wood of the porch, the thumping bounced, and Hinata sighed before laying down upon it, hair curling around her, knotting along her shoulders and falling behind her ears.

The frozen world gave her nothing to distract herself, and she welcomed it. She welcomed the anxious thoughts, the terrifying nightmares, and distraught memories; she welcomed the loneliness and the pain in her chest - to the point of encouraging it, swallowing it whole, hoping it would work its magic fast.

Come on, heart, she pleaded, eyes fluttering. Just stop.

Somewhere beyond her, sunlight broke across the horizon, and the cicadas screamed, wailed, hollered, shouted. She had always loved it - their music. The kind that was so overwhelmingly loud that she could almost feel her ears bleed from such a discord. It helped before - helped with drowning out her depressing thoughts and distracting her with sheer cacophony. That noise . . . was her life. More so than Shikamaru's.

And she allowed herself to feel an inch of joy, knowing that it would at least be the last noise she would ever hear.

"Hinata!"

Papa, are you proud of me?

"Hinata, stop!"

I finally found No Time.

"HINATA!"

The sensation of floating momentarily overcame the agony in her chest. When she opened her eyes, she expected to see clouds, but instead there was a mess of brown hung over a petrified face as strong, hot arms lifted her into a sitting position.

Kiba Inuzuka, caked in mud and sweat and grass stains, came to her as an angel.

"Oh my God."

Which was weird - because out of all the people, why him? She'd barely talked to him beyond high school, and though they had kept in touch, it was only through short conversations every other week. He was like the rest of them, she thought. The ones who would fade from her life eventually.

Why was he -

"Jesus, Hinata!" Tears fell from his eyes as he slammed her against him, arms wrapping around her in a tight hug, shaking, as if he feared she'd disappear if he wasn't tight enough. "Oh God. Oh Lord! What were you thinking!?"

But . . . why?

Why was he scared of her leaving?

Why was he there?

Why was he crying?

Why did he care?

And why -

"Wh-Wh-Why -" She hiccupped, fingers tearing down his back, trying with all her might to show him how angry she was. "Why did you make it start again?"

Through the blur of her gaze and the pounding in her ears, she heard and saw others approach. A warm body clutched her from behind, and when she gasped and snapped her head to the side, she found Hanabi clinging to her with every ounce of strength she had. Neji hovered over her, eyes storming, as he leaned forward and grabbed her face, checking to see if she was . . . alright. His eyes were red, and Hanabi was shaking, and she wondered what they were reacting to that got them into such a situation.

Hanabi's fear of ghosts, or her?

His allergies . . . or her?

Over Kiba's shoulder, she saw Shino's tall figure approach, and there was a watery gasp next to him as Kurenai rushed past and fell to her knees next to Hinata, asking if she was alright and if they needed to take her to the hospital.

Why?

That was all she could think as a new wave of sobs racked her small, trembling form. The irony of it all was so overwhelming, and when darkness fluttered along the edge of her gaze, she hoped she'd pass out to avoid the enormous feeling of shame and guilt she felt.

Why did she . . . do this?

She almost . . . left everyone behind.

If she did that, then she would be as bad as her father, as Naruto, as Shikamaru.

And so, in a huddle on the porch of a house that croaked with her sobs, Hinata sunk into everyone's warmth and let the sunlight bring color to her face once more.

...

#7 crept by like a snail, hovering in the same way that her decaying heart did.

Because Hanabi Hyuga would always joke that her boyfriend was just like her sister, down to the heart.

And it was true.

Hinata was no longer the only one in the house with a clock in her chest, ticking down to her last minutes of life. But while she counted it nervously, wondering when the day would come for it to ultimately stop, he -

"Oh my God. OH MY GOD!"

Konohamaru flourished.

It was so obvious as he grabbed his girlfriend by the waist, spinning her around in circles, narrowly missing the side of the dining table. The man didn't cower like she did, didn't muffle his emotions like she did. If anything, he drowned in them.

"Hanabi!" And his voice could rumble the entire world if he wanted it to, because it was just that powerful. "I'm going to be a dad!"

And when he was like this - which was always, because Konohamaru didn't understand the meaning of composure - Hinata could not help but lean back and wonder how he and her could possibly be similar in her little sister's eyes. Surely, the hearts weren't enough, but that was the only thing she could find herself relating to with him.

Because he was loud, and she wasn't.

Because he was free, and she wasn't.

And, well, because he was a dad -

"I know, you dork! I just told ya, didn't I?"

And . . . that wouldn't be happening to her for a while.

...

It was the first of December, a few days after Hanabi's pregnancy reveal, that Hinata Hyuga finally got her answer. The morning had been a cold one with a blizzard already blazing outside. Neji and Konohamaru couldn't leave the cottage even if they wanted to, so instead, they warmed their hands along the edge of their coffee mugs and messed with the antenna on the television until they got a signal of the weather report.

"Oh, Lord." And not two minutes later, Hanabi was up and finally out of her room. Her morning sickness spells had pushed her off her normal schedule, and now she found herself waking up a good two hours after everyone else. "Ain't even been two months and this baby is pissin' me off."

Her face was pale as she wobbled in, and Konohamaru leapt off the couch and helped her to it. "You'll be fine, right?" Initially, it was supposed to be a teasing statement, but his tone dropped in worry on the last word.

Snorting, slapping his chest before she sat down, Hanabi said, "Obviously. What, ya think a baby is going to stop me?"

Neji tore his gaze away from the screen to brush a bit of hair out of his cousin's sweaty face. "We know well there ain't nothin' in the world that's gonna stop ya," he said softly, which was an odd occurrence. "Don't mean we don't worry."

Rolling her eyes, Hanabi directed her attention on Hinata, who hovered in the hall between the living room and kitchen. "Only thing ya gotta worry 'bout right now is gettin' me some breakfast! I'm starved."

Hinata giggled and nodded. "We got fruit 'nd french toast in here for ya." She turned and made her way to the kitchen counter. "What do you want to drink?"

"Milk!" Konohamaru yelled before Hanabi answered. He rushed in behind Hinata and pulled open the fridge door. "I heard it's good for pregnant women."

The huffing and grunting of an annoyed woman sounded from the sofa, but not complaining followed, and Konohamaru shot Hinata a grin as he grabbed the jug of milk and moved to pull out a mug. As she scraped the remaining french toast into an oriental plate, Hinata watched him from the corner of his eye, astounded. For anyone else, perhaps, he would simply be pouring milk. And, sure, that was definitely the case - but Hinata couldn't deny how jealous she was of the sweat rolling down his neck, or the healthy flush of his face, or the wideness of his grin.

People like them . . . weren't supposed to have those things.

So why did he?

"Ain't ya scared?"

At first, she hadn't even realized she had asked that aloud, but then the pouring stopped as he locked gazes with her. "Huh?" he hummed, blinking, tilting a bit to the side in wonder. She blushed and waved her hand, motioning for him to ignore her, but Konohamaru was about as much a rule-follower as Hanabi was a spring of patience. "You mean of my heart?"

Caught with no way out of the conversation without being rude, Hinata slowly turned to face him completely, eyes bowed. "Yes," she whispered, glancing to the side, hoping the other two family members weren't listening in.

"Should I be?" The pouring continued, and then a shuffle sounded as he moved to open the fridge again. "That's like askin' if I'm afraid of myself."

He isn't? She was terrified of herself, especially after how she acted when Shikamaru had first vanished. How could he not be afraid of suddenly collapsing at any moment?

Suddenly, a hand fell on her head, ruffling her hair a bit. Despite him being four years her junior, he was still massively taller than her, and she wondered, when he looked down at her at that moment, if he felt like he was talking to a child.

"Nah," he said, "I ain't scared. Life's too short to be scared of everythin'."

He said it so smoothly that she almost believed him.

"Is that why Neji lets you work with him on the farm?"

He chuckled. "Hell no! It's cuz he wouldn't dream of havin' his lil, adorable sisters out there in that awful weather." The hand moved, and she was able to lift her chin to meet his grinning face. "Can't blame him. I know Hanabi's strong 'nd all - more than me, usually - but I'd rather work every day of my life if it makes hers a lil easier. He thinks the same way. For her, for you. And, well, I reckon you should start thinkin' the same way for yourself." His grin simmered to a smile, one she had never seen on him before. Shaky, almost weak. "Even with a fucked up heart, if you try to make life easier, you're already on the path to livin' long and happily."

A cold, hard feeling fell on her shoulders, unbeknownst to the man in front of her. It was such an unbalanced feeling, bringing a wobble to her knees. She hadn't even noticed him slip the plate out of her hand. She hadn't even noticed the return of his grin the moment he entered the living room. She hadn't even noticed his coos to Hanabi's belly as he handed her the plate of breakfast and the mug of milk - "Be kind to your mama, lil monkey. She's too busy to be sick all the time."

All of that was lost on Hinata, who stood, alone, in the kitchen, wondering.

Make life easier? Blinking, she turned to the window, where the blizzard continued to storm. Konohamaru, how can you say that when you're making your life so much harder than it needs to be?

...

Three weeks later, it finally happened.

In the middle of the pasture, fighting the freezing temperatures and screaming wind, Konohamaru collapsed.

And by the time he arrived at the hospital, he was already dead.

When Hinata watched Hanabi sob at his side, clutching his white hand, she couldn't help but see herself next to her father. Then - she saw herself replace Konohamaru in the bed, and she gasped and stepped away and turned into her cousin's shoulder, trying to shake the image out of her mind.

But it was impossible.

She knew her fate, and so had Konohamaru.

Only he had been better at hiding his absolute horror of it.

...

And so, in the following April, as flowers began to bloom once more, Hinata was waiting for the arrival of #8. Not patiently - definitely not patiently. But there was no sense of rush, either. It was exhausting to spend all her life on the tips of her toes, so she had finally found herself in a state of . . . lenience. Towards herself, towards her heart -

"There she is! There's the girl of the hour!"

And towards others, too.

Peeking up from her garden, wiping her forehead clean of sweat, she smiled as Kiba leaned over the stone wall to regard her with a wide smile. Next to him, not nearly as eye catching as the loud man next to her, but equally as important to her, was Shino, who huffed before lifting a large, plastic tub onto the wall.

"Good morning, Kiba, Shino." There was a bark, and a large, white dog leapt over the wall, barely missing her cabbages, and decorated her face with slobber. She giggled, pushed his muzzle slightly to the side, and rubbed his head. "Good morning, Akamaru."

Kiba copied his dog and hopped over the wall to mosie over to Hinata's side. He rubbed under his nose as he glanced at the house. "I'm here to help Neji with the guest room." Right. So much had happened since the beginning of the year - a terrible winter that brought havoc to the town, Konohamaru's funeral, the new harvest and livestock coming to the farm - that Hinata had almost forgotten that they had signed up to have guests spend the summer at their cottage. They needed the extra money for the baby, and she was glad a few friends had stopped by to help them with preparations. "Yeesh. Have any idea what kinda people they are?"

Not really. Just their names and how long they would be staying. It was a group of siblings, she knew, but that was about the extent of her knowledge.

"Um." She bowed her head. "I reckon they're from the city across the river."

A noticeable shift came to the air.

"The city?" Kiba grumbled and turned away, but she didn't have to look to know he was not happy. "Ya don't think that ass is gonna -"

"Stop being paranoid." The box rattled as Shino shook his head and adjusted his shades. "She'd know if he were."

Another grunt, and then a hand fell on her head. "Don't worry 'bout him," he said. She couldn't help but smile slightly. Wasn't he the one who brought him up in the first place? "If he's so damn bored with us, then I hope he don't ever come back!"

Shino sighed. "Nuisance."

"What!?"

"Hinata." Totally ignoring Kiba's exclamation, Shino turned to face her, glasses slipping down his nose slightly to reveal his perfectly arched brows. His fingers drummed on the side of the box, mimicking the songs of a cicada. "Mother is gettin' rid of these, and she asked me to show them to you before we decided what we'd do with them."

Standing, Hinata pulled off her gardening gloves, stepped past Akamaru, and inspected the box. He opened it, revealing several, different kinds of clocks inside. They were quiet, and she didn't see any of the hands move, but her heart still jumped at the sight of them. "They need batteries, 'nd they're all broken, but we still figured you'd want a look at them."

She dipped a hand inside, brushing her fingers along the faces and tracing the woodwork. Kiba came up from behind her and frowned. "The hell? Why would she want this junk?"

"Don't you have a room to clean, Kiba?" Shino shot back, a bit of venom on his tongue.

Which, of course, did not bother him in the slightest. "Don't you have some bugs to babble over all day?"

Ignoring them, Hinata pulled her hand out and grabbed the side of the box, smiling. "Can I have them all?"

Kiba balked, and even Shino seemed surprised.

"Of . . . course."

Grinning and thanking him, Hinata moved to pull the box to her, but Kiba swept in and hoisted it on a shoulder before walking to the porch, gesturing for her to follow him. She did so, and Shino was on her heels. "Weirdos," he muttered, grinning. "Can't y'all have normal interests like the rest of us?"

Hinata giggled, and Shino rolled his shoulder in irritation.

"Nonsense. Nothing's normal in Cassoday."

---

Chapter 7: Outro

---

He knew it was stupid. Really stupid. Beyond stupid. And usually, people like him just avoided stupidity in whatever way they could before it could taint their image for good.

But still . . . on the day Hinata left the hospital, escorted by the ever-charming Naruto Umino in all his nurse-ish glory, Shikamaru couldn't help but feel sorta, kinda, maybe, a little bit jealous.

"R-Really, Naruto, you don't have'ta waste your break by walkin' me home."

"Eh? Come on, Hinata! If I get to hang out with you, there's no wastin' at all!"

Okay, so maybe he was really jealous.

And he knew it was stupid, damnit, but he couldn't help it! Naruto, even in school, had always had a way about him that just drew people to him; the only difference is that back then, it was people who bullied and harassed him; now, it was people who admired every inch of his being.

Like Hinata.

Damn it all.

And it wasn't like he should feel worried about him sweeping her off her feet or anything. She had waited four years for him, and now they were dating. Them. Him and her. Shikamaru and Hinata. Not Naruto and Hinata. So it was fine. Things were fine. There was nothing to worry about.

"Your hair's gotten longer since we were in school. You look cute!"

"Wh-What? Really?"

Nothing. To. Worry. About.

"So what? Who's the lucky guy? Kiba Inuzuka? He was, like, one of the first people to come by - well, y'know, aside from your family. Or is it that Gaara guy? Wait - don't tell me. Sasuke Uchiha!?"

"Oh. Um, actually -"

"Actually." Unable to keep his mouth shut, Shikamaru turned to face the two, stopping in his tracks to make sure the idiot had a good look at him. It was hard to hide the fire in his glare, and he wasn't totally sure if he was even doing a good job at it, but he did know one thing. If Naruto did not shut his trap now, he was going to blow. "It's me. I'm the lucky guy."

And when the most obnoxious, shit-eating grin came to Naruto's face, Shikamaru was not surprised one bit.

"Ha! I knew it!"

He was just undoubtedly irritated.

"I'm just jokin' with ya!" the blond yelled, then laughed. He slammed a hand on Shikamaru's back, pushing him forward and returning the group of three to a leisurely stroll. "It's, like, obvious! Even as kids, y'all were always together."

Relaxing his fists, Shikamaru sighed and shook his head. Next to him, Hinata took hold of his hand and laughed.

...

They were about three-quarters of the way up the hill when Naruto decided to confirm the elephant in the room.

"So about . . . the superhero thing."

The kind of elephant that Shikamaru wasn't totally aware of, but had his suspicions, nonetheless. He'd seen Hinata's wavering glances towards the blond, looking like she wanted to ask something, but was too timid to do so. He had figured it had something to do with Naruto's status as a nurse, and how he may, possibly, be able to figure out what was wrong with her heart.

"You noticed it, too, right? How when I first came to see ya, it was . . . listenin'."

At that, he was somewhat lost. Listening? He knew well the background behind such a word. He'd use it to describe his Nara magic - how the clouds seemed to listen to his every whim. But . . . how did Naruto know about that?

He shot Hinata a look, and she fidgeted.

"Yes, Naruto," she said. "I noticed." Her face lifted and basked in the afternoon sunlight, taking the shadows out of her features and leaving behind a calm, relaxed canvas. "Did you . . . learn how to make it listen?"

Wait a second.

Shikamaru slowed his pace to fall behind them, getting a good look at the two. All this talk about listening and learning - he had an inkling of what they were getting at. Is Naruto . . . like one of us? It was possible. There were multiple people like him and Hinata and Gaara, people who were probably hiding it, or unaware of it, or simply uncaring of it. If Naruto was like that, and he could somehow make hearts listen to him, then did that mean -

His thoughts were cut off by a roar of laughter as bright hair fell back. "Maybe I did!" Naruto yelled to the sky, then dropped his chin to return his gaze to Hinata. "But I doubt it's all me. Maybe - maybe you learned to let your heart listen, Hinata. And not just to me." And before he knew it, Shikamaru found himself no longer in the back of the group as an arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him forward. Blue eyes sparkled at him the same way Ino's did when she was about to humiliate him in front of everyone. Oh, great. "And it looks like I ain't the only one it listens to."

Hinata's face took on a pink glow, and Shikamaru stepped in front of her. "So what?" he asked, regarding Naruto with slanted eyes. "Can you help her or not?"

"I dunno," he replied, grinning. "But I sure as hell can try!"

They reached the stone wall of the cottage and paused. Hinata peeked out from behind Shikamaru, thumbs rubbing together, and quietly asked, "You . . . really will?"

Naruto's smile turned puzzled. "What? You think I won't?"

She shook her head, then smiled. "I reckon I just . . . can't believe it."

Again, Naruto laughed, and he planted his hands on his hips. "But you're happy, right?" Blue eyes narrowed and searched Hinata's face, as if expecting something that wasn't there. Shikamaru rolled his eyes and moved for the porch - "Eh? Why ain't ya glowing?"

What.

He spun around and stared Hinata down.

WHAT!?

"You . . . showed him?"

Her face tilted with guilt, and she laughed nervously. "It was . . . a long time ago."

"Scared the shit outta me!" Naruto continued. "I woulda passed out in fear if it weren't so damn pretty!"

Okay . . .

So, maybe, Shikamaru was exceptionally jealous.

...

June 28th, a bit after eleven at night, Shikamaru was left in his bed with a decision to make.

In three days, everyone would be packed and ready to leave. They'd go back to the city, back to that drag of a job, and soon enough, summer would end, and their university life would start all over again. That was how it was supposed to happen - how, if you had asked him just a month ago, Shikamaru wanted it to happen.

But, unlike Cassoday, things changed, and now he wasn't sure what he wanted to happen.

Because . . . it would be a waste to quit school now and give up on NASA, but . . .

But Hinata was here, and he wanted to stay with her.

Shit.

Tearing the quilt off of him, Shikamaru sat up, swung his legs over the side, and got out of bed. He went to his closet, pulled out a light jacket, and left his room.

I can't get a break.

...

He showed up to her window a bit after No Time, and when they met eyes through the pane, she quietly stepped over Temari's slumbering form and left her room. A few seconds passed, and by the time he made it to the front yard, she was on the porch, watching him.

"What happened?" she whispered, stepping down and crunching on the grass in her white slippers. Her eyes reflected the moonlight as she scanned his face, trying to find the reason for why he came to her.

The sight of her, for a moment, made him forget the reason, himself.

But then he cleared his throat and looked away, slowly pulling them back to him.

"July will be here soon."

Immediately, her face fell, and he wanted so badly to kick himself.

"You're right." He knew. And he hated it. "Have you started packin'?"

Not at all. He had been avoiding it for days, now. Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, "Tell me if I should stay or not." Her wide eyes blinked at him, and he could only meet them for a second before losing his courage and glancing away. "I'll do whatever you tell me."

He knew it was unfair to put such a decision on her, but he had been battling with the question for weeks now, and obviously that got him nowhere. So, maybe, getting perspective from her would help.

"U-Um." Her fingers twisted together. "Y-You should -"

"And don't do what you always do and put me before yourself," he told her. Even in the dark, he could see her cheeks darken with a blush. "Tell me what you want."

A pause came, filled with croaking frogs and chirping crickets.

Then -

"I want you to go." His heart jumped into his mouth, pulsating on his tongue, stealing away any words he could think of in the moment. Does she really mean that? It was his turn to scan her face, which she tried to hide by bending it forward. "Or rather . . . I don't want ya to go, but I reckon you should go. Because, um -" She smiled at him shyly, "because you need to help them get to space, right?"

Right.

Right . . .

"And, um . . . ." She shifted from one leg to the other, lips pursing and relaxing, showing him she was debating on revealing something. Pushing his hands in his pockets, he waited patiently, letting her find her voice. "Maybe, um . . ." She glanced at her house, and his heart fell. "Maybe I can le -"

"Don't."

Her head snapped up. "H-Huh?"

"Don't leave with me." It wasn't that the idea of her coming with him wasn't absolutely thrilling, as well as enticing beyond belief, but rather . . . that he had regretted a lot when he had left. Regretted, and mauled over things for years. He didn't want her to make the same mistake. "You have to stay here with your family. Hanabi's gonna need all the help she needs, and Neji needs you, too. You have your garden, your friends. Kurenai 'nd Shino 'nd Kiba 'nd . . . Sasuke." His eyes dimmed, and he was thankful she couldn't notice it. "And Naruto - if you left with me, he wouldn't be able to help you. So you have to stay, Hinata. Cassoday's your home."

There was a sniff as a hand tugged lightly at his left sleeve. "It's your home, too."

At that, he couldn't help but smirk. "Yeah." Taking the hand on his sleeve, he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her back. "It'll be fine. It's just three hours away - and because things are different . . . I have a reason to drop by every now and then."

And, suddenly, the entire world seemed to illuminate as shimmering light came to Hinata's skin, pushing away the shadows of the night as she glowed brighter than any moon or star in the sky. She beamed at him and snuggled her head into his chest, and he wrapped her closer, trying to hide her shine away from the rest of the world - not because he didn't want anyone else to see such elegance (though, well, a sliver of him felt that very strongly), but because he didn't think the world would be able to handle the sight of her in such a state.

That, and . . . well . . . .

"What the hell?"

Off in the distance, he heard footfalls approach the front door. Hinata gasped, and her glow immediately vanished just before the door flung open, revealing Temari in her nightgown, rubbing at the side of her scowling mouth. Her eyes did not even bat at the sight of them in such an embrace, for she was too busy glancing around the porch.

"What the hell was that light?" she asked.

Pulling away, Shikamaru pulled on a nonchalant look. "What light?"

Temari glared at him, probably hearing the lie in his voice, but before she could mention anything about it, Hinata piped up. "U-Um, I'm sorry, Temari. I keep forgettin' you're a light sleeper."

Snorting, Temari gestured over her shoulder. "Ain't the only one." Inside, Gaara was hovering by the side of his older brother, who was in turn hovering at Hanabi's side. Neji returned from the kitchen, Enra in one arm and a glass of water in the other, which he passed to his younger cousin before sitting next to her on the sofa. "Looks like everyone's havin' a rough night."

Hinata smiled at Shikamaru. "Would ya like to come in."

A light refute was on his lips, but he was interrupted by Neji, who looked over his shoulder at them.

"Might as well," he said without blinking. "You'll just sneak back later."

Temari howled and dragged him in, and Hinata gently closed the door behind him before coming to her sister, asking if she needed any help with Enma.

"I'll get ya some coffee," Kankuro muttered to him, already beelining to the kitchen. "We're gonna be up for a while."

...

Three days later, and he was once again standing on the dock, surrounded by luggage (most of which not his own) and watching for the ferry. Surrounding him were people who he's seen without a break for the past month, and though he'd outwardly complain about it if you asked, inside, he was quite pleased with the situation.

Kankuro was off to the right, next to Hanabi, holding one of the twins and tracing a finger along the clouds in the sky. The baby cooed and tried to grab at his fingers, and with a sigh, Shikamaru made sure the clouds formed into a few shapes that would bring some entertainment. "Oh, look Enra," Kankuro said. "That one looks like a giraffe."

Hanabi, patting Enma's back as he nodded into sleep, snorted. "Are ya blind, or just stupid? Looks like a goose to me." Her white gaze shifted Shikamaru's way, and then glittered. "What do you reckon?"

Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention to Temari, who yapped with his mother about this and that, not really staying on a particular subject for too long. Sometimes, the two women would try to pull his father and Neji into the conversation, and while Neji chuckled and gave them short answers, Shikaku totally ignored them and kept his gaze on the horizon.

"Men," Yoshino growled, nose tipping up. "Can't do nothin' with them."

Temari placed a hand on her hip, while the other knocked playfully into Neji's shoulder. "She's right, you know."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't drag me in with the lot of 'em."

A few feet away from them, leaning on the railing to look over at the river, were Asuma and Kurenai, who talked to one another and made mental lists for the future. Shikamaru had already heard of their plan - Asuma was going to quit his job at the university and move fully back into Cassoday with his wife. The next few months would be focused on moving out and finding a new owner for the clock store, which Shikamaru had not been pleased to learn of.

But as long as he ain't some lazy ass like Asuma, I guess I can't complain.

"Oh, hold still, Hinata! Lord, you're about near as bad as Choji!"

And just a bit away from Shikamaru was Ino, who was busy tying Hinata hair into a braid, a collection of rainbow hair ties around her wrists. Both Choji and Gaara watched her do her magic, Gaara in curiosity and Choji in awe, while also flinching every time she'd see Ino tug at a strand of hair.

"Ah, I'm sorry," Hinata said, blushing, keeping her gaze forward, knowing she'd get an earful as she so much as tilted her head slightly. "I'll try to be still."

The air was so busy around him, and Shikamaru slipped his way further down the dock to get more air and a little space. He dropped his duffle bag on the wood paneling, leaned onto the railing, and breathed in the moist air. It was early morning, and not many people were around to catch the first ferry, so he was glad to get some space to prepare for the motion sickness that was sure to plague his entire ride to the other side of the river. The sun was well over the horizon, but a bit of orange and pink was still in the sky, giving a slight hue to the clouds above.

I'm going to miss this, he realized, resting his chin in his hand. You don't get to see much of this in the city.

But, he also reminded himself as slow, timid footfalls came his way, leading him to glance over his shoulder, where Hinata stood, water dripping down her face, it's not like you won't see it ever again.

Smirking, he reached out and rubbed her cheeks. "I haven't even left yet."

Her lips pursed together. "I-I know," she said, stepping next to him. "But I'm thinkin' about it."

"Then don't." He found the dark, somewhat choppy water. "Just enjoy the moment."

Shifting, she moved closer so that her arm brushed his, and they basked in one another's warmth. It was hard to look at her. Ino did well in braiding her hair, and he knew he would melt or - or something - if he stared for too long.

So, instead, he wondered about other things; on her garden, on her treatment with Naruto, on her heart, and . . . .

"Can I ask you something?"

Hinata blinked. "Of course."

He managed to turn her way, though still avoiding her eye. "You never told me what happened when I had left." Cold wind brushed past them, bringing the hairs on their arms to a stand. "Did . . . something bad happen?"

She shivered, though he suspected it was not from the sudden cold, and bowed her head. "Yeah."

"Can you tell me?"

"U-Um." Her fingers curled into her shirt, knuckles going white. It reminded him of how she acted when Kiba had shown up that day, throwing a fit in her front yard. Was she . . . scared? "I, um, don't want you to feel bad, Shikamaru. It's the past now, so . . . it's not like it matters anymore."

That only peaked his interest, and instead of backing off, he pushed for more. "Hinata." His hand brushed her jaw and lifted her chin, and their eyes met. "Tell me," he almost begged, "please."

A wave of water slammed against the doc as the ferry arrived, making the wood creak and sway. People began to move past them, but neither of them paid any heed. Instead, Hinata's focus was solely on him as she whispered, shakily, with eyes dim and cloudy, "I . . . stopped trying." Her hands left her shirt to clutch at her heart. "I wanted it to win so badly that I just stopped."

Stopped.

Like a clock frozen in time, the kind that were brought all the time in his workplace. The ones he fixed all the time. Only, this one was more important, more special - because Hinata wasn't a clock, though she sometimes believed herself to be, and he -

He was gone. He left her. He'd almost killed her once, and then he left her to die.

Stumbling back, air leaving his lungs, as if he were suffocating, Shikamaru clung onto the railing and tried to keep balance in his legs. The ferry's horn echoed through the air, announcing that it was now taking passengers, and despite it's vibrating noise, it couldn't even compare to the thunder in his head.

"I can't," he whispered, fingers going numb. "I can't leave. I shouldn't leave. I need to stay here."

Hinata's eyes turned wide. "Shikamaru -"

"What if it happens again?" The mere thought tore his heart out of his chest. The clouds curled above. "I won't be here. Hinata, I won't be here."

Her warm hands found his, squeezing them. "That's okay." But was it really? He hadn't even imagined something like that happening. He was trying to save her by leaving! So how could she be so sure that - "Remember what you said? That this is my home, that this is where my family and friends are? That you won't leave me like you did last time? If that's all true, then that won't ever happen again." Her eyes glanced around for a moment, then she smiled enough to let her lips shine at him. "I'm happy, Shikamaru, and I want to live so badly that it hurts. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Rolling sounded to the side, and the group had gathered around them.

"Time to go," Temari said, eyes never leaving his face. "You ready?"

Knowing he's already caused enough ruckus, he glanced at Hinata, saw her nod, and grabbed his bag. "I guess."

Ino and Choji gave him a hug, his father patted his shoulder, and his mother smothered his forehead with kisses. "Now, you call me, boy," she hissed out to hide her watery gaze. "And if you don't, I'll assume you're dead and stop by to smack some sense into ya."

"Us, too," Choji said, smiling. "It'll be nice to hear what you're doin' from you and not from the gossip of the town."

"And," Ino piped in, nudging his shoulder, "give your pretty girlfriend a call, too, since you won't be around to sneak into her bedroom every night."

Man, didn't expect that one. "I'm makin' sure to call every, single damn person in Cassoday aside from you, Ino."

"No need," she clucked, grinning. "I have the yearbook."

This little -

"Come on," Kankuro said, pulling his stuff down the dock, "we need to get on."

Temari and Gaara quickly followed their brother. Asuma pecked his wife before joining them, sending Shikamaru a sly look as he passed. 'Go on, slacker,' his smirk practically cooed. 'Hurry before the boat leaves you behind.'

He turned back to Hinata, saw her growing blush, and felt heat creep up his neck. God, have mercy. Leaning forward, taking her hands to pull her to him, he glared at the people by them and hissed, "Look away."

And before he could move another inch, Hinata was already on the tips of her toes, molding her lips into his, pouring in every ounce of glow she had into him, sending sparks through his system. He had to back away quicker than he wanted to in order to catch his breath, and when he found three pairs of eyes staring him down - two of which not the loveliest shade of cloud white - he practically died inside.

"What the hell?" Yoshino said, lips pursed. "I didn't raise some lip-loose son."

"Jesus," Ino mused, shaking her head, "you kiss like a dead fish."

And were it not all humiliating enough, Hinata started to giggle, and Shikamaru had never been more ready to get on a boat in his entire life.

Actually, I think I need a break from Cassoday.

---

5:35 am, September 2nd, Hinata looked at the clocks on her wall.

And she pondered.

Should I give you all away?

Somehow, in the time she spent in those four years of solitude, she had managed to make a family. And perhaps it was odd to have a family of clocks, but she had her reasons, and in some ways it helped her cope with everything. The clocks Shino had given to her were perfect, despite all of them being broken - in fact, that was probably why she liked them so much.

Her family, after all, wasn't perfect to begin with; even the made-up, clock one.

#1 had been a silent one that never seemed to tick. It reminded her of her mother, who left behind a quiet world in the wake of her final breath.

#2 went backwards, like a father who would only think about the days where he still had a wife to cherish.

#3 only had one hand, but it's tick was louder than any other clock she owned. Sometimes, when she'd have nightmares of Sasuke, it would be the one to wake her up.

#4 ticked by quickly, zooming past the other clocks, time always out of her reach. It reminded her of Naruto.

#5 counted backwards, as well, and sometimes it would move so slowly that she wouldn't even notice it moving. It had a quiet tick, smooth like her uncle's voice, and after her nightmares of Sasuke or Papa, it would help her fall back to sleep.

#6 was stuck in time, ticking, but hands never moving, as if in fear of moving to the future. It was obvious which person that reminded her of, and which person that person reminded her of.

And then, there was #7. The one Shikamaru made her.

Perfect. Never broken.

Often, she did not have the courage to touch it, scared that just the brush of her fingers would be enough to break it.

For the longest time, her room had been filled with mismatched ticking and times, and that was what gave her all the comfort in the world.

But then Shikamaru came back, and he fixed them, and now . . .

Well, now she realized that clinging to the past would get her nowhere.

Well, I reckon it's not 'giving away' as much as it is 'finding then new homes'.

Thus, with a nod, she stood on her bed and took her family off the wall one-by-one, hugging them close to her heart and putting as much love into them as possible.

...

She slid Konohamaru's clock across the table as Hanabi sat on her chair and relished in the rare silence of the early morning. Looking up from her breakfast, she dropped her spoon, wiped her hands on her apron, and tentatively grabbed the clock. Hinata could see the moving arms reflected in her sister's wide eyes.

"Really?" she asked, glancing over at her. Hanabi and Neji both knew well the meanings behind every clock, so they knew how much she cared about them. Smiling, Hinata nodded, and another rarity came to them both that morning. Tears edged Hanabi's eyes, twinkling in the artificial light of the kitchen. She slid out of her chair and hugged her older sister, hiccupping quietly. "I love it. Thank you."

Surprised, Hinata slowly hugged her sister back. It wasn't so much that Hanabi was always a hardcore, emotionless woman - it was just that she only portrayed herself as such in public. Seeing her loosen her reins made Hinata pause and wonder if this was really her sister - but she knew that warmth, the strength in her arms, and basked in it for as long as she could.

When Hanabi pulled away, she was blushing, and she tried to hide it by nodding her head to the paper bag by her feet. "Is that the rest of 'em?"

Hinata nodded and stood, as well. "I'm given them all to people today."

Hanabi smirked and rolled her shoulder towards the sunporch. "He's in the coop, y'know."

And at that, they both shared a secret smile.

...

As she stood outside, Hizashi's clock to her chest, she swayed with the wind and listened.

"I see you're already growing your winter feathers, Natsu. Smart, I reckon, since the cold tends to sneak up on Cassoday."

A hand covered her mouth, muffling the giggles that so desperately wished to escape her. Like Hanabi, Neji tended to hide his . . . "fragile" side from everyone, only letting his stone face break when alone. Not that she figured that talking to hens was fragile, but for someone who constantly went on about his distaste of the fairytales his father spewed, she supposed he would want to keep his little meetings with the hens a secret.

Gathering herself and wiping any laughter from her tongue, Hinata knocked lightly on the side of the coop, calling, "Neji, are ya in there?"

There was a sound, and then the coop's door opened, and Neji stepped out with a basket of eggs in his arm. "Good morning," he said, tone back to its regular drone. "I already got the eggs, so you won't have to worry about them."

They left for the sunporch, and he only noticed the clock when the dawn's light peeked in through the windows, casting a pink glow along its old face. His eyes widened, and he quickly placed the basket on the counter.

"Is that Dad's?"

She nodded, hesitated for a moment, and then held it out to him. "I already gave Konohamaru's to Hanabi, so I wanted to give his to you." Nothing escaped him. Not a sigh, a blink, a twitch of the face. Her resolve began to sink, and her gaze bowed. "Um, is that alright?"

Another moment passed, then she felt the weight in her hands lighten as Neji took it from her. He inspected it closely, thumb brushing the sides, then the face, as if it were a real one. A bit of softness came to his eyes, and then he looked at her.

"I'll hang it up later."

Hinata nodded. "That's fine."

"Why?"

Somehow, she knew he would ask that.

"I figured you should have it," she said, tilting her head slightly to keep the sunlight out of her eyes.

But Neji - he let it mask his entire face, and she had never seen him look so warm.

...

It was a bit after seven when she arrived on Kurenai's porch, knocking twice before stepping back and waiting. There were footsteps, heavy and something she was still growing used to hearing in this house. When the door opened, Kurenai smiled down at her, belly already beginning to round and show.

"Ain't ya right on time," she mused, cheeks gaining a healthy flush in the daylight. "Shall you be stayin' for awhile, or are ya off to deliver -" She gestured to the bag in Hinata's hands, "more right after this?"

Hinata took time to balance her options, wondering if she'd have time for tea and a quick chat. But one glance over Kurenai's shoulder and at a very frustrated Asuma, who was fixing the buttons on his half-pulled-off shirt told her that, perhaps, a different time would be better.

"I've got to run to the Naras' after this," she said, giving an apologetic smile. "But I still wanted to give you this."

She held out the clock, and Kurenai took it.

"Whose is this one?" she asked.

"Momma's." They both glanced at Kurenai's stomach. "Because, um, you remind me of her . . . and you're going to be a mother, too."

The older woman's smile was brilliant, and Hinata was reminded of just how gorgeous Kurenai was when she did something as simple as smile and bat her eyes. No wonder Asuma was so smitten for her - anyone would be by just a glance, alone.

"Thank you," she said, brushing a bit of Hinata's hand behind her ear. "It means the world to me."

A huff sounded as Asuma came up from behind his wife. He smiled at Hinata, though it was quite strained, and she got the hint immediately. "I'll help her hang it up," he said, voice a bit low. "And you can come by later to see it, if ya like."

Kurenai smacked his arm, and Hinata blushed and quickly excused herself.

...

Yoshino was already out in the yard when Hinata had mosied down the street, and after receiving a hearty hug from the woman, then noticed Shikaku on the porch swing, a mug of steaming coffee at his lips.

"Come look at this, you log!" Yoshino yelled at him the second the clock came into sight. "She came all this way to give ya this gorgeous clock, and you're just gonna sit on your ass all day?"

"She just got here," Shikaku murmured, standing and plodding over to them. He looked over his wife's thin shoulder and gave a low whistle at the clock. "Well ain't that a fine piece of work. Where did ya say you got this, Hinata?"

"Oh, um, from the Aburames," she said, giving a sheepish grin. "And that one reminds me of Papa."

Shikaku's eyes narrowed as he scanned the face, and Yoshino cackled and waved her hand. "What a sweet child. Now, when I'm cold 'nd dead in the ground, I want you 'nd Shikamaru to get teapots that remind ya of me - no, birdhouses! No - even better - just get one of 'em real nice 'nd expensive vacuums so that you can at least keep the damn floor clean when I'm gone!"

Chuckling, Shikaku patted his wife's shoulder and pulled the clock out of her grasp. "And I'll say, love of my life, that for both of our sakes, I hope I'm dead first."

...

There was a small apartment complex by the hospital that Hinata has been visiting for a while. For her heart sessions, she would meet Naruto at his place, away from the crowd that would mess up his concentration, because for someone who could stitch up knees with no problem as a kid, taking decay out of the heart was a whole new level of difficulty for him.

Leveling the bag at her side, she knocked on his door, waited, shifted, counted the seconds, wondered if she had been too quiet, and knocked again. Still, nothing.

Maybe he's not home.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she stepped away, but then the door flung open, and Naruto's smiling face greeted her.

"Hey, Hinata!" He greeted her with the same vigor he did every morning, and it filled her chest with glee. But there was also a shift to his gaze, and he looked at his wristwatch before asking, "I thought we didn't have an appointment today."

"Ah, um." Shit. She totally forgot to mention that she was coming to drop off a clock. "We don't. I just came to -"

"Oh!" A figure appeared behind Naruto, and Hinata didn't have to look up to know who it was. Even after all those years, she still recognized the voice of Iruka Umino. "Hinata Hyuga - what a pleasure." His smile was kind as always, but it curled deviously when he regarded his son. "Naruto, you didn't tell me your girlfriend was -"

"Oh, will you stop with that!?" Naruto swiped his hand in Iruka's direction, as if to wave him off. "I told ya already - she's taken! Not that I was interested in the first place - ah!" His eyes widened. "Not, um, that there's anythin' wrong with you, Hinata! I just like you as a friend."

Iruka laughed at his blubbering. "Smooth."

Hinata simply shook her head and gleamed. "It's fine, Naruto. I know what ya meant." Dropping the bag to the ground, she pulled out Naruto's clock and held it out to him. "I just stopped by to give this to you - um, if you want it, of course."

Hesitantly, Naruto took it, turning it this way and then, grinning sheepishly. "Thanks!" he said. "But, uh, why?"

"Because it reminded me of you," she said, pointing to the hands of the clock. "Before it was fixed, it was the fastest one I owned. Because, um - " Hinata matched his sheepish expression, "superheros are fast, right?"

At that, Naruto laughed. "HELL YEAH!"

Iruka tipped his head to the inside of the head, humming. "I reckon we can hang it over the fireplace," he said, curled smile ever-present. "That way, you won't forget the time when your girlfriend is comin' over -"

"Dad, you're embarrassing me!"

...

The trek to the northern hills was a long one from Naruto's apartment, but thankfully she only had one clock left, so it wasn't totally exhausting.

With the passing months, Kakashi was officially moved into the old Uchiha cottage, and though some areas of the house still needed work, it was definitely livable. Hinata was still able to stop by, though the focus was less on her dreams and more on getting Sasuke back into a normal lifestyle of socializing and getting out of the house. She'd been inside the house multiple times and saw that though all the necessities were present, they still lacked a few appliances - one of which being a clock, which she was glad she could provide.

When she arrived, the sunflowers were moving in waves with the wind, and the house looked more like a house in the sunlight than ever before. Her knuckles weren't even halfway to the door when it opened, and she had to crane her neck to meet Kakashi's glittering, mismatched eyes.

"Sasuke!" he called, gaze never leaving her face. "Your babysitter is here!"

A familiar wash of numbness came to her left arm, and before she could even start to warn him, Hinata's curled fist reeled back and sunk straight into Kakashi's stomach. Strength she knew she did not possess sent him cowering back, hand on his abdomen, cradling it gently as he cursed.

"Brat."

"I-I-I am so sorry!" So caught in her absolute fear of what she had just done, Hinata hadn't even noticed the figure plod down the stairs until he was right next to her, grabbing her shoulder and pulling away from the doorway. "Wait. Sasuke -"

"He's fine," he said, quickly grabbing the clock before closing the door behind him, leaving them both out on the porch. "You're givin' me this, right?" He waved it in the air, and she was scared he would drop it. She nodded, and he gave it another glance over. "So it's the one that reminded you of me. You used to talk about this thing for ages."

Blushing, she stepped off the porch. "Sorry."

"You should be," he said, glaring at the face. "You let that guy fix it." He placed it on the railing, leaned his weight on it to keep it down, and yanked off the hour hand. Hinata gasped as he tossed it to the floor. "There. Now it's more accurate."

"But Kakashi -"

"Walk with me," he said, breezing past her, leaving the clock on the porch. She hesitated, shifted between following and running back to return the hand to the clock, but one sideways glower from Sasuke made her trail him almost instantly. He sighed, and they both walked to the field of sunflowers. "I hate those things."

She had a feeling he would, but she still had to ask. "Why?"

"They're useless," he said. "It'd be better if it was a big garden full of the cherry tomatoes you grow."

Laughing, glad to know he appreciated her veggies, she said, "Sunflowers ain't totally useless." Hinata walked a bit further and ran her fingers along one of the yellow petals. "They're the flower of happiness. Just lookin' at them can make someone happy." Over her shoulder, she saw that his scowl remained, and she blushed. "Ah, um, but I reckon it doesn't for some people."

His eyes narrowed, hovered in a sort of stillness, before he sighed and relaxed his features. "Maybe one day," he said to the sky. Instantly, a spark came to his gaze. "Oh." He dropped his gaze back to her and rolled his shoulder. "That was quick. It has barely been three weeks."

Above, the clouds danced with magic, and Hinata's heart fluttered.

That could only mean one thing.

"Hey." Sasuke stopped in front of her, picked a sunflower, and twirled it between his fingers. "Naruto's been workin' hard on that heart, right?" Their eyes met, and he tried to smile, though it was shaky and lopsided. "Well, go on and show me what you got."

Grinning, Hinata twirled on her heels, sucked in the cool air, and ran.

And the feeling of her heart racing without fear of it stopping - it was almost as powerful as the very clouds waltzing above her head.

...

The best thing about summer was the cicadas.

Loud and constant, they reminded Hinata of herself, in a weird sort of way - or rather, how she wanted to be, one day. Perhaps not obnoxiously loud, but enough to be proud with herself and her life. And she wanted to be that thing that seemed to always be there, even when you don't realize you needed it in the first place.

But the fall -

"Hinata."

The best thing about fall was the clouds and how they would twist and turn and morph into something beyond imagination with the simple breath of Shikamaru Nara, who sailed on the ferries, twirling his fingers around to let Hinata Hyuga know he coming back to her, to home, to Cassoday.

---

Chapter 7: End

---

A/N: As you may have guessed, this is the last "official" chapter of Dreams of Summery Laze. A sort of epilogue is planned, and I won't be catigoizing the story as 'complete' until it is published, but I can't tell you when that will be out. The past chapters, I've tried to get them out within a span of two weeks. The 8th and final chapter may fall in that timeline, or it may be further away; whatever school permits. But just know - a chapter WILL come out after this. That is a promise.

Thank you for reading. It's been a treat to go on this journey with you all.

-PianoCoat