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XXXX
Chapter 4:
Silence
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"Lost in this darkness
Hoping for a sign
Instead, there's only silence
Can't you hear me scream?"
-Somewhere by Within Temptation
XXXX
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November
Dreams were a complex thing.
Every detail, occurrence, or thought couldn't be trusted while in a state of slumber. The line between dark reality and wondrous fantasy tended to be far too thin, unbalancing the mind, splitting and devouring the soul.
In dreams, a person wasn't in control.
Hinata soon came to know that.
She was disoriented, unadapted, and undeniably lost. The icy sea of uniform shapes constantly surrounding her was vague and nauseating, mocking in nature as it slipped through her fingers every time she attempted to catch hold of the reigns.
The confusion was often so great that she considered herself awake, only to realize the gravity of her mistake. It was true that in dreams, she could fly. In dreams, she didn't feel pain. In dreams, everything seemed okay. But it was also true that dreams could be deceiving: they could fool the mind of all rational thought and spiral it into madness.
Dreams could be dark and ill-natured and that particular breed of slumber seemed to follow after her like a terrifying plague. A breeze, cool and dreary, would often accompany their beginning, alerting her of the imminent arrival of something uninvited that sought to caress her exposed skin with invisible, malicious fingers.
At times, her sense of smell and audio would come in unpredictable waves and she'd take advantage and focus, hoping to gain intel on what was happening, on her location, or on the enemy party.
Inconclusive information was regularly the disappointing result.
She didn't remember much before this strange miasma of blackness and bubbling hysteria, but she knew that something cruel waited for her on the other side. Her mind had turned against her in many ways and drawing incomplete inferences was one of them.
Dim flashes of color, fragments of conversations, shrill cries, hunger, thirst, and cold nights would come to mind and she would fear because the source of their existence was uncertain.
She was in danger, she was being preyed upon, but the hunter was nowhere in sight.
That was by far more concerning. Hinata knew, from experience, that invisible or imaginary enemies were often the most lethal ones.
Her only option was to awaken her mind from this disturbing state, claim those memories she lacked, and break away from this made-up prison that caged her.
Among the scarce things that calmed her, the strange smell of lightning and mint soothed her.
Although faint, it was constant, a distinct balm that aided to appease her heart. But the moment it vanished, her link to the outside world did as well. Alarm was quick to set in because she needed to hang onto the heat the scent brought. It was the only reassurance that said she was alive and that her long-term submergence in this limbo couldn't last for eternity.
The feeling of being paralyzed and blind was frightening. Whether she felt her eyes open or close, there was nothing but a dark board without writing, without chalk dusting its surface and offering her a sign. It was as if everything had suddenly disappeared and only a diminutive part of her self was left, retrained but secure in a pit of endless cold black.
Hinata didn't like it. The unknown, the loneliness, the despair, all of it.
Those things reminded her of someone, someone she had seen and met already. Someone who could be the synonym of Darkness and Misery in the flesh. She couldn't recall him now, but she knew it was a male. Onyx-colored eyes appeared through her slowly processing thoughts and she focused on them, willing herself into consciousness.
It was one of the two ways in which she could feel absent from that world of utter abyss.
The second came in hesitant, soothing words. The voice was bright and female, sounding familiar yet foreign. When she had enough strength to get herself out of the hollow she dwelt in, Hinata attempted to decide whether this was a friend or foe. But by the warmth the person gave off, Hinata soon realized that she meant no harm.
She'd listen, then, and allow the quiet, soft voice of this unknown individual to wash over her. She wouldn't always hear complete words or understand the pace of conversation, but it was a welcome change. The calming tone allowed Hinata to find a sort of peace among the black. Listening was comforting, and it grounded her when disorientated.
One could only live in silence for so long before going completely mad.
Once her sense of audio improved and her mind felt sharper than before, she heard the female weep. Between tears, the words said had unnerved her.
"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry. They did this to you and...how could they?!"
...Hinata's blood ran cold. They?
"They hurt you," the voice sobbed.
"They took you."
"What they did is unforgivable! Unforgivable!"
...Who were 'they'?
In search of answers, her mind restlessly retrieved image after image from the innermost depths of her memory.
Darkness. Cold. Thirst. Pain. Fire.
With bone-chilling horror, Hinata realized exactly what the words had meant, and her body had reacted on its own and shook and shivered and felt dirty, unclean, and violated.
Pain.
So much pain. She could feel it spread to every inch of skin and muscle in her being. It was a blinding, searing hot sensation that scalded her nerves.
Hinata wanted to scream. She was being burned alive and—
And then nothing.
She was out again and into her painted world of misery.
Time later, she really couldn't say how much (seconds, minutes, hours?), she dreamed of the events that had befallen her, each screenshot more sinister than the last.
It was terrifying, knowing what was done to her. She knew it was more than one man surrounding her, hurting her, biting her, cutting her, but the presence she remembered the most was so cold it scorched her flesh right off, the voice rough and raspy and hands disgusting and sick. She feared this individual specifically, but in these dreams, she never once saw their face.
In a way, this was a relief. She didn't want to see it, the face, she didn't wish to recall it and have more memories that could torment her any further.
The remainder of those hands inflicting agony and the perpetual humiliation she suffered chilled her to the core.
A blade that kept on cutting her without relent, fingers that pinched her breasts and tugged at her legs, prying them open despite her struggles—
The mere thought sent her mind in a chaotic tsunami that shattered the world and her rage—an emotion she had never felt so strongly before— demolished all the things that caused her harm and she'd scream at the skies, to ask, to beg, to demand the rEaSoN wHy?!
The lack of answers left her gasping and pleading to at least be set free, even if it meant to die.
Distantly, the sound of blood-curdling screams, soaked with hatred, dripping with revulsion, reached her ears. It took her a while to realize they were coming from her and that they were the reason why her throat throbbed with iron-melting fire. When she bolted upright finally awake, finally under her own control every cell protested, sore and beaten.
The rush of footsteps and the bang of a door against a wall were detected, but she couldn't tell if they were real.
She was still screaming.
Someone grabbed her, then, and tried to push her down from her sitting position.
A grave mistake.
Hinata lashed out to the trespasser, to whoever presumed to touch her. How could they? How dare they?!
"Don't touch me!" she screeched, something she didn't remember ever doing but didn't have the time to be concerned about. She was too busy trying to protect herself. She couldn't bear to be touched, to be felt. To have an unknown individual near meant danger and the mere thought of skin-to-skin contact was agonizing.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"
She could still hear the echoes bouncing back. As if mocking.
Soon after she hit something that gave off a breathless huff, she felt a needle penetrate her skin. A few seconds later, she was thrown into her own mental jail once again.
And now?
Now she only felt repulsed.
Sick.
Nauseated and unbalanced. For once, she was glad to be alone. She didn't want anyone to come near, she needed space, she needed air, she needed to be far, far away from this place.
But no one could run away from their own selves, and Hinata came to know that.
...How she wished to be back in Konoha.
Her strength slowly came slipping in and she clutched the bedsheets in her fist, slender fingers wrapping around them tightly. The urge to scream and cry hit her like a physical blow but she resisted.
No, no, no.
She wouldn't cause an outburst. If she did, they would come. She wasn't foolish enough to try a repeat of the earlier commotion.
What if they were watching? She wasn't going to give them, and him especially, the satisfaction of hearing her cry.
Hinata contained her tears, but a shudder would escape every once in a while, quiet but potent.
The air was cold, just like in the room she'd been taken to for the first time. Was she still there? If so, why was everything so dark? She remembered the room to be dimly lit with shadows flickered in and out of sight, playing and dancing to their own silent melody, but now her surroundings were pitch black with no undertones of gray.
Where was the owner of the soft voice that she often heard? Was she captured too, like herself?
Just then a loud noise made her train of thought crash.
"Hinata!"
She took in a sharp breath.
"Let me go, bastards! I said, let go!" The earsplitting sound of glass breaking made her flinch. "I know she's here, I smell her!"
"Please, allow us to see her," a calm voice requested and murmurs were the undistinguishable answer.
"Inuzuka Kiba! What the hell do you think you're doing here, eh? Didn't I tell you to stay put, idiot? And you should be ashamed, Shino! You let him out of the straps, didn't you?"
The female voice had returned, and with her, a heavy relief and the urge to cry for a reason that didn't concern grief.
Hinata's chest tightened and she felt flaming-hot drops of salt spill down her cheek, damping something (a cloth?) that obscured her eyes.
Is that why I can't see?
But that wasn't important anymore. She knew those voices. The female...she knew her. How could she not have realized it before? And the others...
Kiba-kun.
Shino-kun.
The door opened, the sound of it alarming the Hyuuga of someone's presence.
More murmuring and some angry snaps later, she felt a presence in front of her.
The smell of wild grass and fresh melon reached her nose. The feeling of a pair of distinctive, familiar chakras made the tears burst faster, her uncontainable sobs of momentary happiness ringing throughout the room in realization.
"K-Kiba-kun, Shino-kun...!"
She was back.
Hyuuga Hinata was back in the Village Hidden in the Leaves.
XXX
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Without knowing, it became a routine.
He would do his watch, and she would feign sleep.
When she was awake, which was often, he knew.
When she sat there in her bed without saying anything, barely daring to breathe, building a deafening silence, he was aware.
Her dreams were haunted, perhaps in the same way she haunted him, and she would hide it away from everyone.
From the Yamanaka, from her teammates, from the Hokage, from her Father, who'd finally come to see her but had said nothing at all during his visit.
She fooled everyone...but not him. After all, he was able to recognize those subtle reactions and bore witness to the times she was jolted awake by unpleasant memories.
Uchiha Sasuke could smell the fear, feel the self-hatred, taste the disgust.
All these emotions, so black in their origin, were present on her face when her mask was down, shadowing her once-sweet features, and chasing the light away, wanting it gone and to take its place as the rulers. Sometimes, she would grasp her head as if it hurt and make attempts to calm her galloping heart, the startling sounds of the irritating monitor exposing her rapid pulse and overworked respiration.
He then wondered at her thoughts. What memories made her suffer in such a way? Did she know what real Nightmares were about? Could she feel the Silence eating her alive, devouring her little by little? Was she aware of the Cold, just like he once had been and still was? Did she crave Warmth? What was she thinking? Of the things she had lost? Of her now-unlikely title as the future head of the Hyuuga Clan? Of her possibly stained virtue?
He wouldn't voice his questions, but he still received answers in the way she rubbed her arms to fend off the hospital's chill only to recoil, repulsed and appalled at having made contact with her own skin.
Now that her teammates had cleverly discovered her stay in the hospital, they would sneak in and visit, always watching, just like he did every single night. It was different though. The Inuzuka and Aburame watched, helplessly and full of worry.
They didn't know how to act, what to say, or how close to stand, just like the Yamanaka in the beginning. They had no words to describe their regrets at having failed to protect her, or the ire they felt at knowing her Byakugan was gone, so they said nothing.
The waves of intense anger coming from the Inuzuka only alarmed the Hyuuga, he could see it in the way she scooted back on the bed and bowed her head. Habit from her younger years, he guessed. She would refuse to 'look' up at anybody, even with her bandages on, and Sasuke understood this behavior didn't only derive from childish insecurities. The shock of her eyes being ripped out of their sockets was harrowingly fresh, and a blow she still reeled from.
She didn't tell her teammates not to come near, but somehow, the male integrates of Team 8 knew they had to keep their distance.
With effort, she would try to act normal, wearing a neutral expression when in company, and though her skill was passable, Sasuke could tell with a glance that no one was buying it. Sasuke could see why; it took too much energy to hold her front and it didn't take long for her to tire.
To compensate, she was encouraged to rest, but rest did not come easily, and being forced under became a common routine, despite her refusals.
Sasuke had once been forced to submit to unconsciousness via anxiolytics, and seeing her adamantly fight her way out of injections or pills reminded him of his own unpleasant experiences.
It didn't come as a surprise when she gasped, thrashed, and cried in her sleep.
Laments of indescribable anguish and trepidation became a daily occurrence in room U215, which only made the hospital staff remove her from there stealthily and place her in a lower, more secure level of the building. Room U215's patient didn't exist anymore and patient S006 was added to the list instead.
Even sedated, the Hyuuga would break free, and the maddening shouts of the young doll reached their peak at two in the morning every time, just before Sasuke's shift ended.
It was, against all possible odds, devastatingly beautiful.
The blinding light she always had around herself seemed to diminish with each passing hour and he found himself anticipating her complete break.
If she broke, the remaining shards would leave him without peace.
Yes. Yes, he didn't want to dwell in peace or the place under the sun she used to provide. That's right, break porcelain doll.
"Break soon," he breathed as he stood in front of her as the full light of the silvery moon washed over the room.
Someone had opened the blinds at some point, perhaps a nurse in efforts of bringing light into the room. Now that light filtered in, illuminating the female patient in the bed as if to emphasize her on a central stage in front of a nonexistent audience.
The slumbering form of the Hyuuga didn't give confirmation to his command and Sasuke closed the distance slowly, like a predator nearing his prey until he was so close he could smell the fresh, sweet scent of her flesh. Fingerless gloves allowed his fingertips to trace one visible elegant eyebrow and then down to her small chin.
Oh, the Uchiha almost blinked in surprise. She was even softer than he had imagined.
Fascinated with the smooth petal-like texture of her skin, he outlined the line of her jaw, curved and fine-boned until his path took him down to the white of her throat. There, he paused.
He was tempted to sample it, just to determine if it tasted like innocence.
Instead, he stepped back, releasing her, his gaze unwavering.
"Break. Break for me."
XXX
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But she didn't.
His inability to understand her was no news to Uchiha Sasuke, yet the displeasure at not being able to grasp what went through that head of hers tended to give him whiplash and it disgruntled him.
She was there... unbroken.
This wasn't what he expected. She was supposed to lose her aura of innocence. That light that had, in the very beginning, flickered out and welcomed, even shared, Darkness, was back.
However, the Hyuuga wasn't recovered.
Far from it, Sasuke thought as he stepped out of the shower, securing a towel low around his hips.
Her occasional cries still rang out in desolated hallways and the Nightmares hadn't once ceased from progressing through the night. Even so, she was...more controlled. The air around her no longer felt scared or angry and she was expressionless, almost indifferent.
It was all a lie, a mask, a façade.
It had to be, Sasuke told himself. No one was strong enough to just go unaffected by trauma. He would know that.
Besides, no one healed that quickly. No, healing was just a hopeful concept a psychologist fed its patients; a person never healed, just got better at bearing the sick truths of reality.
She had lost so much so fast, and not even the Uchiha was sure of what she had gone through, of the extent of her pain, but whatever had happened to her during her kidnapping, it couldn't be described as pleasant in the slightest. How, then, could she pretend to be unaffected?
"Understand this, Hyuuga," he said to his reflection in the bathroom's mirror, imagining that she stared back at him from the other side with her gentle lavender orbs that had always bothered him. Their softness, their empathy, their simplicity, and warmth. How he despised them.
Yet, he'd probably never see those eyes again and that realization made something in his chest clench uncomfortably tight.
"The world isn't as merciful as you paint it to be."
The Hyuuga girl watched him with phantasmal eyes full of sadness.
His knuckles gripped the edges of the porcelain washbasin and his ash-black glare challenged her in return, their usual intensity and hatred toward the previously mentioned world directed at her instead.
The reddened whites were undeniable clues to his sleepless nights. The cycle of perturbed slumber had returned and he refused to seek comfort in a girl whose peace had always aspired to envelop him.
Hmph. He didn't need it.
The day he sought it, he'd been weak. There was no going around the issue. His body had given up on him outrageously.
Now he wasn't going to take chances of her finding him without his genjutsu. Even without sight, she was surprisingly alert. She detected every sound, as insignificant as it may be, reminding him that she was not just a porcelain princess, but a kunoichi with skill.
Hyuugas are very sensitive to chakra.
That's what Leaf shinobi claimed.
Whatever; he just wasn't taking his chances with her up all night. He briefly wondered if she slept at all now that the number of drowsy tranquilizers had lessened before the Hyuuga in the mirror raised a hand and touched the hard, cool surface in front of him.
Sasuke involuntary flinched. Then his eyes narrowed in awareness.
"What do you think you're doing?" he spoke quietly, a deadly inquiry.
The Hyuuga smiled and he looked at her with self-evident uncertainty, not knowing how to interpret the gesture.
"The world," she began, lowering her eyes and then locking them with his, her voice as smooth and caring as he remembered it to be, "is not as bad...when you have someone to share your pain with."
"I don't want to hear it, Hyuuga. I didn't ask you for useless philosophies," he snarled, his lips forming a dangerous sneer.
The girl's smile faded and her eyes closed. She rested her forehead on the transparent wall dividing them from reality and madness and sighed, her breath misting the mirror and gradually hiding her from view.
Sasuke watched impassively, waiting for the fog to dissipate, but stiffened when the slowly written words 'I Know You're Scared; I Am Too' appeared instead of the brunette.
He didn't think twice and reacted by instinct.
His fist destroyed his own reflection, bits of glass biting into his recently healed hand – but not before he saw the wild look in his eyes, accepting her truth.
XXX
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The abrupt urge to laugh almost overcame her, and if not for the lack of energy and a dry mouth, Hinata would have laughed mirthlessly.
It was unreal. She couldn't believe, couldn't begin to grasp, emotionally, how she had ended up here, in the hospital's secluded area for special cases.
The melody of her cardiac rhythm emanating from the monitor near her bed eased her out of her numb contemplations. The smell of Ino's perfume and the fresh-cut flowers resting on her nightstand slowly probed her nose. She wondered what kind of flowers the blonde had brought her today. Although she'd always enjoyed plants and spent most of her free time roaming the Hyuuga gardens, not once had she memorized each individual scent.
Were they lilies? Yellow or white roses? Hinata didn't know. The medical ninja had left without a word concerning them this morning. She had bid a small farewell before closing the door and leaving the brunette on her own.
It seemed like she was no longer her talkative self around Hinata, and it hurt. It hurt knowing that Ino and everybody else treated her like a breakable being that if not managed with care, would inevitably shatter for good.
I'm not weak, she tried to remind herself but like the rest of her assurances, this one too fell short and flat.
She no longer had her eyes, she knew that. Tsunade-sama had visited her and informed her of the state of her Byakugan. They were keeping it safe, the Hokage had said in a soft but firm voice. Her eyes were safe. Don't worry about them, Hinata. Things will work out eventually. Your eyes are safe.
The same couldn't be said for her optic nerves and the delicate area encasing her new eyes.
Not eyes, she corrected herself, replacements.
The blank plastic orbs deposited into her sockets weren't real; they couldn't see the world for her, they couldn't give her light, they were useless. Their only purpose? To keep the eye-holes from sinking. Nothing more.
She was utterly blind and the percentage of her regaining her sight was heartbreakingly dismal.
Her kidnapper had made sure to cripple his new shiny toy further by fracturing more than enough bones and scarring her flesh.
Her repugnance toward her skin wasn't gone, but she could feel the healed slashes adorning her body. And even if she hadn't sensed them, she could still remember how they were received.
She wished she didn't.
The memories, all of them, stored in her head until she thought they were going to make it burst, were driving her mad. They replayed over and over, never stopping, never ceasing. They taunted and teased venomously, coming near and then vanishing, only to appear in front of her the minute she dropped her guard. They kept on repeating themselves against her will and she, even with her best efforts, screamed for them to stop, both mentally and physically.
Hinata breathed slowly to keep her reaction to herself, but her monitor betrayed her and the skip of a beat was noticed by the figure keeping watch in the shadows.
She tugged on her blankets and turned away as if she knew he was there (she didn't), as if she could shun away all evil thoughts dancing merrily inside of her.
It was odd and unwanted. Losing control, that is. She was no longer in charge of her emotions. Pain, Self-Hatred, Insanity, Sorrow, Anger, and Misery were all expectantly waiting for her to come to them and give in to her inner demons.
But she wouldn't. She wouldn't, she wouldn't, she wouldn't.
She wasn't ready to give up. She had lost too much already.
Her hands shook under the sheets and she didn't bother to stop them. Hot drops of lava-like substance came pouring from her eyes, still bandaged with gauze.
Tears.
It hurt to even do that. Cry.
She knew it wasn't good for her health. It would ruin the delicate surgery she'd undergone for the artificial implants. Her nerves were very sensitive, and she could tell that Ino's fussing about them was not exaggerated by just how much it burned to spill tears.
Her only outlet, forbidden to use.
A raspy breath escaped her mouth, and she muffled it with her palm, hardening her heart, quickly shutting any emotional gates that could betray her to the outside. It was either close herself to grief or let insane wails of terror and madness consume her.
She would not succumb to the latter.
She wouldn't.
I was to be Head of the Hyuuga, she told herself, inhaling slowly, her brows relaxing as she carefully leaned towards stoicism. And a leader prevails.
She might never get to see her surroundings again, but she would still make the Hyuuga proud.
It was all she could do now.
XXX
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Two nights later, something she could have never foreseen occurred.
The day had dragged by and sleep had eluded her, yet, at some mysterious hour, she had finally sunk into that uneasy dimension of unconsciousness she had no power to dictate.
When she awoke, she knew she wasn't alone.
The scent of lightning had returned, and with it, a sense of dangerous power that ran freely over her skin with contrasting rough care.
The smell of scorched terrain wasn't new; the hostility emitted, however, definitely was.
She didn't move, choosing to stay still, listening for any movements. Dread began to pool at the base of her stomach, heavy and uncalled for, raising goosebumps that made her shudder slightly.
Hinata felt rather than heard footsteps near her bed with predatory grace, the cool air of the room a tell-tale of the individual's position as it shifted and brushed past her face, making the skin near tingle. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized he was right beside her.
Hinata kept immobile when the back of warm and calloused fingers traced her cheek, slow and torturing in pace, only to swiftly change and cup her chin, lifting it up from its position on the crook of her shoulder. She froze for a quarter of a second before flinching back, her reaction finally dispersing the feign of slumber.
"How do you do it?" a voice demanded, his whisper sharp in the quiet space.
Hinata had the impulse of moving away, but she remained in place, hands clenched together from the cold and a rare type of anticipation.
Someone...someone was talking to her, breaking the silence that had settled for what felt were years.
"How can you handle it without breaking, Hyuuga?" the voice continued, upset and reproachful, almost disgusted in a way. "Why don't you hate? How can you not be angry? What is wrong with you?" he hissed.
"...Who are you?" Hinata whispered in response, words unusually calm as she fought to control her quivering.
There was a hushed stillness and then she felt the presence brusquely back away. "I'm no one, Hyuuga. Just answer the questions."
"You...how did you find this room?" she countered softly, her hands now folded just below her chest, almost touching her pumping heart. It beat rapidly as if aiming to crush past the inhibition of her breastplate and run free. Her mind was now sharp, alert, and...eager. When was the last time she had spoken? Held a conversation? Listened to a person that felt and smelled of power and misery, that albeit asking painful inquiries, was speaking to her with no trace of pity in his words?
The answer? A few weeks that stretched behind her and that seemed to expand the more she thought about them.
Then, something in her...clicked.
"Your voice," she intoned, hope and confusion and so many other things tinting the two short words. "I recognize it. I...know you," she continued.
"You don't," he snapped. But she did.
The Hyuuga princess could clearly imagine eyes so dark you could sink in them. Eyes like that, infinite and cold, had no comparison to any others she'd ever seen and they were now staring at her with an inexplicable contempt. She failed to think of a reason as to why he would ever speak to her after distinctly informing her he didn't want her anywhere close to his person. His reason to be here...was a mystery to her, one that undeniably captivated her curiosity.
"...It's you." Yes. She was sure of it.
He'd avoided her after their last encounter in the training grounds, where he'd held her captive with the blade of his katana pressed against her throat. She'd seen the intensity of those glaciers as they pierced her own amethystine ones, their hate for the world blatant, their contempt and indifference for every single living thing that walked upon the surface of the Earth palpable.
But she'd also seen the Pain and Darkness wanting to take over, punishing him and well-hidden in his lies. Lies and deceptions that he always carried over his shoulders like an unbearable burden, shunning away light and welcoming nothing but what one might have called Sinful and Forbidden.
So instead of being afraid, Hinata turned her head to the place she hoped him to be and stated, "You're Uchiha-san."
Hyuuga Hinata didn't know it then, but after that simple declaration, the silence in the room was never the same.
XXXX
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A/N: Thank you: jacka-hime22, LadyCassies, Lost-puppyEYES and Kibachow!
-10.27.13
Revised: 12.23.20