Runner's High
Chapter Thirteen, Can't Have My Cake and Eat It Too
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Sasuke peered up the road and her gaze followed.
"Those virgins seem to have stopped coming here," he noted.
"Maybe because you're here, Uchiha-kun," she laughed lightly, trying to ignore how Naruto shuffled closer behind her, looming over her like a great shadow. Or how his arms slipped so easily around her middle, their height difference causing her breasts to be pillowed over his embrace.
She was sure his presence contributed greatly as well, but she wasn't going to extend her gratitude to him.
Students preoccupied with audiobooks and their studies on tablets often traveled the road above, a great many of them often congregated in the various cafes they've been to. Civilians from nearby residences also partook in the beautiful scenery as they crossed the bridge.
The same young couple she's been seeing lately was passing overhead right now, their three-year-old in its stroller and their border collie trotting beside them.
Pangs of envy and dead dreams shot through her chest every time, and they've been growing stronger by the day.
She nearly leans into Naruto's embrace.
Which loosens suddenly.
He breaks her reverie by sinking his claws into her ass, intense images flood her suddenly, causing her elbow to fly into his ribs as she shrieked.
Her face turned red, her body drenched in humiliation as eyes drew down towards the sound.
"I-I-I'll be going n-now. S-Something c-came up." Words tripped over teeth as she hurried up the concrete steps, her heart fluttering in a panic.
Her wires got crossed and she feels strange, confused, wrong. But what else is new?
If that had been Toneri squeezing her ass as if reading her mind, then it would've been a tacit promise they'd be making babies tonight.
She's prone across the couch, her burning face in her palms as she reminds herself ad nauseam that Toneri hadn't instilled those feelings in her.
Naruto had.
In a flash, she had dreamed of being swept away and kissed hard into their bed, as they tangled together, sweat-sheened and breathless from the loving labor of rough, passionate breeding.
Her mind puts a name to this phantom figure and it's Toneri, because he's already her husband and it ought to be him.
But her heart reminds her that she's mischaracterizing him, that her phantom lover is simply the conjuration of her heart's greatest wish. Someone that possibly will never exist, and if they do, she wasn't meant to find them.
She flips onto her back and stews in the silence. Her home feels like an aquarium, and she the finned shark. She's never noticed it before. It's much too big, after all, isn't it? Much, much too big. Vast and empty. Point A to Point B is a journey in of itself. The irony of wealth is hoarding space away from others and making absolutely no good use of it.
She's fed up with Naruto.
She's given up on trying to convince him, so she's denying his existence.
She knows it's the absolute worst thing to do to him based on how he reacted to her slight withdrawal post-ramen date. That in her mind was a three out of ten in awfulness. She's turned it up to twelve and this is how he reacts, so determined to break her down before the cold-shoulder gets to be too much for him.
She thinks he could have still had her fooled if he'd just played up being her friend a little while longer.
Her mind lingers inappropriately over this particular scenario, and she daydreams of inviting him over for a glass of water and a quick snack for the road. He comes over every so often until it's become their new normal. And he tends to say sweet, subtle things to her. They go over her head, but nestle snugly in her heart. And nothing bad happens when Toneri walks through the door. If anything, this Toneri has grown more gregarious than her real one, and this sense of warmth and completeness blankets her more and more by the day.
She would've liked that.
But she has to carry on with her routine today.
She has to put babies and lovemaking and warm company out of her mind.
She has to put this strange, bullshit situation she's found herself in and be Otsutsuki Hinata.
Her heart stops when she strolls out of her workplace and she rubs her forehead in annoyance.
She can't believe Naruto's audacity to come here again. Sasuke is on his phone while the blond is staring at her, waiting, like a goddamn predator.
Her heels clack like firecrackers across the tile as she approaches them, arms akimbo.
She opens the mouth, ready to chew them both out. But then she remembers: Naruto does not exist. She directs her glare onto Sasuke.
"Coincidence finding you here, Uchiha-kun."
"Had to get some new pants," he answered, never taking his eyes off his phone as he lifted his shopping bag. "Then something told me to come here."
Yeah, she knows. And knowing that Sasuke was the one who must've followed Naruto over here as opposed to the other way around, it makes her question the Uchiha's intentions; whether there was any decency and concern for her, or whether he's reciprocating Naruto's sense of competition. A competition that is purely in both of their heads, if true. Sasuke's been nothing but friendly even when Naruto wasn't around, and she likes to think the young man is simply smart enough to know his place.
Naruto's eyeing her. She can almost feel the heat of his desire radiating off of him. She still won't forgive him for tearing the crotch of her pantyhose the last time.
She was about to go home, but now she needs to ditch him. But how?
Well, her scapegoat is here. Might as well make good use of him.
"I see. Should I take that to mean you're free for the evening?" She offers a charming smile.
Sasuke lowered his phone with a grin. "You taking me on a date already?"
Hinata pointedly ignored the intensity of Naruto's glare as his head snapped between the two of them.
She knows exactly how to get rid of him.
"Follow me to find out," she teased with a subtle seductive lilt.
Sasuke lit up, amused and intrigue. "Oh-ho. Alright, I'm in. Lead the way."
He joined her side in a heartbeat. But so did Naruto.
"Uchiha-kun, how about you take me to a rock show?"
His grin took on a devilish curl. "Oh? You mean with booze and an admission fee?"
"Mmm-hm. Someplace only twenty years and older can enter."
A cursory glance at Naruto's quiet dismay had her feel a little sorry for him. She was oddly reminded of the times when she and Hanabi were kids and Hanabi wasn't tall enough to experience certain rides with her. This felt much crueler, but she couldn't deny the thrill of victory carrying her away.
She just hopes he can manage feeling left out.
Her husband's holed up in his office on a business call.
She could let him know she's going out, but she's not exactly hiding anything from him anymore, is she? Even explicit permission to use and abuse her unwanted paramour implied carte blanche to do anything at all, even go on a 'date' with a different young man, as long as it produced results.
What Toneri may not understand is she doesn't want to abuse anyone.
But maybe her way is still too indirect, too soft. But that's how she's always been. She's afraid to be any meaner than she has been now.
When she arrives outside the local club, she feels out of place. The line outside is a sea of black band tees, ripped skinny jeans, combat boots, ear gauges of varying sizes, wild or disheveled hair, piercings and tattoos; you get the idea.
The walls thumped with the heavy bass of the music indoors. It felt like the building was jumping out at her. And every time the club doors opened, an ungodly ruckus met her ears and her steeled nerves came undone.
Sasuke shows up ten minutes late. His fingers are adorned in thick, heavy rings, one of which is a chrome hawk head. He looks like a hellraiser who's just rolled out of bed, wearing a washed-out dark gray t-shirt with a billowing heap collar paired with a black shrug (clearly showing off his collarbone and chest), a couple of chain necklaces, torn black joggers, and black snakeskin loafers. Her eyes squint at his shoes.
"I hope those aren't real," she says, having recently learned about his sugar baby arrangement with the beautiful CEO of Molten Beauty Day Spas, of all people! Hanabi's been trying to secure a partnership with her for the past two years. But the world tends to shrink the nearer you get to the top.
Sasuke shrugged with his arms spread, shifting onto his left foot and pointing his right foot out as he re-examined his footwear in question.
"Problem?"
Hinata shook her with an incredulous smile. "Blowing your tuition money on tasteless fashion, yes. I think you could've done better."
Sasuke scoffed. "Hn. A plain woman like you has no authority on taste."
Hinata stiffens now that he's made her even more aware of her poor attempt to fit the venue. Slim fit black pants from one of her pantsuits, a dark mauve tunic, and black ballet flats.
"This is all I had."
"Uh-huh. You had time to shop," He approaches her as he slips off his dog tag necklace. She ducks down instinctively as he drapes it over her head, the warm metal caressing her skin.
She fingers the metal tags curiously, giving him a funny look.
"It's like they'll never know you're pushing forty."
She shakes her head but she's smiling.
She found the gesture incredibly sweet coming from someone like him.
There must be something about him that Terumi-san sees beyond his good looks to have chosen him as her sugar baby.
Maybe this is a glimpse of it.
It's claustrophobic as Sasuke leads her by the wrist through the thumping crowd of scene kids. She feels like she's being pulled through a sea of horseflies. It's both black and glittering, musty and unpleasant. The music is buzzing in her veins and she feels like she'll go deaf in the next five minutes.
He takes her up a flight of stairs that opens up to the balcony. There are dining seats here, but they're not much. Small black bar tables with even smaller black stools. Tattooed waiters and waitresses bus between drinking patrons, their trays inundated with new orders or a slew of empty beer bottles.
She catches her breath when she's finally seated.
She doesn't know if she intends to stay the entire venue with Sasuke, but she's already here. She might as well commit to it. She imagines she's going to use tonight for tomorrow morning's post-run conversation. And she imagines that Naruto is going to feel so far behind in 'winning her over' that he's going to finally consider giving up. Then she'll 'dump' Sasuke too and go back to her old life.
Sasuke hails down a pink-haired young woman with a full sleeve of ornate ink, her forehead adorned with a purple gem. She glares at Sasuke and gives him the middle finger before heading downstairs to the kitchen.
It's impossible to talk to each other over the ear-piercing metal, so Sasuke drags her chair closer until it's flush against his. He brushes her hair aside, tucking it behind her ear as he speaks with a cupped hand.
"I pulled her into the bathroom once during her shift," This admission causes Hinata to burn as her lower body remembered with perfect recall her own bathroom encounter with Naruto. "She loved it. She just hates that it hasn't become a regular thing."
Hinata shakes her head, chagrined at herself for associating with someone that was essentially a darker shade of Naruto.
Hinata pushed his hair out of the way and cupped her mouth, her nose accidentally brushing against the shell of his ear.
"You know what you're called? The enemy of all women."
Sasuke barked out a laugh. "I've just got a wandering eye," and his eyes do wander, from her eyes to her lips down to the deep notch of her tunic, his necklace accentuating her cleavage.
This is the most flirtatious he's been with her and she leans away embarrassed.
But then she gets the idea to toy with his necklace as she loops her forefinger over the tags and languidly slides it across her skin from side to side. She uses the chain to fold over half of her notched collar, showing off a modest amount of soft skin.
Deep down inside she's screaming at herself. She doesn't recognize this impulsive, flagrant side of herself. It's wholly unbecoming of a married woman.
Their pink-haired waitress returns with an ice bucket of six bottles, and she wonders if Sasuke normally goes through all six on his own. Hinata hesitantly meets the face of the scorned young woman, and her expressive green eyes steal her breath. Everything about her is beautifully carved. From her stylish choppy bob to the intelligence and disdain in her eyes, her curvy heart-shaped lips, her tight elfin frame contrasted with the toned arms and a washboard stomach, her midriff proudly displayed as she wore a plunging blood-red cropped halter top, the two triangle strips of fabric held together by a metal ring. Her small perky breasts peeked out from the side, so youthful and cute. Hinata couldn't pick apart her envy from her awe, and she has no idea how Sasuke could've ever gotten bored of her.
She drops the bucket onto their table unceremoniously, her probing gaze sliding over her, causing her to freeze up.
"Hey! Sakura-chan!" called a patron from across the balcony. "Can we get some shots over here?!"
"And some hot wings!"
Sakura barked over her shoulder. "Yeah, yeah! I'm on it!" And with that, she was gone.
"What was wrong with her exactly?"
Sasuke turned toward her. "Hn? I didn't say anything was wrong with her. I just like to sample, that's all," then his eyes turned darkly mischievous. "You want a show or something? You were staring at her pretty intently."
Hinata flapped her hand in front of her face. "Wh-Wha-What on earth are you insinuating?! Also no to 'the show', you reprehensible pervert."
"Are you embarrassed because she's a woman, or because you're always the oldest person in the room lately?"
Hinata reached for a bottle and grumbled. "I'm not dignifying that with a response," She removed the magnetic bottle opener from the bucket and shucked off the cap. She eyes the amber brew in dismay. "This is swill."
"Damn, someone sure is spoiled. The bar's downstairs if you want something better, but I can't guarantee it'll meet your standards. Anyway, no one's here to enjoy the brew, they're here to enjoy the music."
"This doesn't sound like music."
Sasuke shucked off his own bottle cap and downed his bottle in ten seconds. "Drink enough of these and it will."
A small smile curved her lips despite herself. She's heard Kiba say something like before, whenever she was too uptight and struggling to connect with her surroundings.
She put the cold bottle to her lips, tipping it up and filling her mouth with bitter, flavorless beer.
They're halfway through their second six-pack when he leans in.
"You're husband let you come here?"
"Ye-Yes," she didn't feel like getting into the nitty-gritty details of her husband's bitterness and complacency. She was absolutely certain he wouldn't have complained about her coming here, especially when it all connects back to her pestering paramour.
"So how much does he know exactly? About you and Naruto?"
"He doesn't know Naruto at all. Just that I've been with a nineteen-year-old recently. I'm trying to contain my mistake, not have it get worse."
"Well, it's Naruto, so I'm not sure how well you'll be able to do, not that you should beat yourself up over it," Confusion crossed Sasuke's features. "How did he react to you laying with Naruto, anyway?"
"He was upset, but..."
"Uh-huh?"
"He put the blame solely on him. I've never strayed, complained or cheated before until now, so he knew I didn't get willfully involved with him."
"Can I tell you what Naruto said the day after you two fucked?"
Hinata blushed as she looked at him warily. "What?"
"He said you have a good heart. That you did tell him to go fuck off. But then he latched onto something else you said. That you didn't want to be desired if it was only because you were married. Lately, you make a good argument that you and Naruto have to stop, but doesn't that sound like the cry of someone feeling unloved? What happened to that woman?"
Hinata hid her face in her palms as she groaned utterly mortified. "No, no, no. I don't know! I don't know! I guess... I'm a traditional woman and-and-and... For once someone finds me attractive, truly attractive, and-and I... need romance. Or some kind of connection... A little bit of time to get to know them... I can't... just sleep with someone."
She hunches over the table and hides her face in the circle of her arms.
She feels like every jilted, vain woman cliche ever known and written about and she can't stand it. This isn't who she envisioned herself to be.
"You just admitted your husband doesn't find you attractive anymore," Sasuke's breath warms her ear as he huddles down with her, so that she can hear him. "Why do you keep making yourself feel like shit if it's that simple?"
She lifts her head up so that she isn't talking into the table. "I'm not the kind of person who runs away-"
"Bullshit."
Hinata straightens up, looking at him, imploring him to explain or take it back.
"How're you going to fix your marriage? I bet Naruto's the least of your problems. Hell, he's just shoved it all in your face and you don't want to look at it. If things just 'go back to normal', are you really going to be fine?"
Her lips part but she can't find the words.
He moves on to further his point. "You can't be so fucking hopeful all the time. Pretending you're not disappointed or minimizing your needs, that's running away. I've seen the godawful face you make every time that young couple crosses the bridge, and you know what? I'm not even inclined to inform him why you do."
"Has he asked?"
Sasuke deadpanned. "He thinks you want a dog because you've been living with an asthmatic for two decades. Now he wants to get you a dog."
Hinata snorted. Her ears warmed as she covered her mouth, uncontrollable laughter possessing her, making her shoulders shake and her tummy tickle.
"Fucking himbo, right?" Sasuke sighed.
"Please tell him not to bother! Omigosh, he just spent almost two-thou' ryo on shoes for me because he was too proud not to."
Sasuke palmed his face and she broke out into giggles all over again.
She lowers her head atop the fold of her arms and she sighs contentedly, the heaviness of the past two weeks lifting somewhat. She doesn't notice how their foreheads touch, how the night sky of her hair mingles with the starless abyss of his. Nor does she pay mind to the way he strokes her upper arm so softly. She hums unconsciously to his touch.
"I wish I had a son like you," she says thoughtlessly, and his thumb pauses against her arm. "I'd've taught you to be less of a womanizer, but the rest of you is good," she perks up when he pulls away. He's turned towards the stage down below, downing another bottle.
She doesn't ask him why he pulled away. Or why he looks like he's frowning. He is frowning, right? She's never sure with him.
He's kind of got Resting Bitch Face.