"We cannot live in a world that is interpreted for us by others. An interpreted world is not a home. Part of the terror is to take back our own listening. To use our own voice. To see our own light"

- Hildegard Von Bingen

Hinata doesn't remember the last time she'd made this much tea. She wasn't even aware they owned so many leaves, and she was honestly getting tired of making pot after pot. It wasn't as if the guests hadn't offered to help her, or as if they were so comfortable with watching her accommodate them while grieving but that was her exact intention.

She was hoping that with all her perfect hostess-ness that they'd eventually get up and leave with their discomfort. But shinobi were patient and stubborn if anything else, so she figured she shouldn't have been so surprised that she'd already made twelve pots of tea, and that they dutifully finished them all with no complaints. As she sat quietly amongst the crowd of quiet sniffles and whispers, after the thirteenth pot she wondered who'd burst first, their stomachs or her patience.

It's not that she didn't appreciate their being there. She understood they cared for her and had every right to mourn Naruto as well, she just wished it was somewhere where she didn't have to see or talk to them. Naruto was the people person, he'd blend into crowds and their conversations as if he was born there. They'd gravitate to him similarly as well, everywhere he went he seemed to be everyone's true north.

Hinata was meant for, and a lot more comfortable with, hanging in the shadows. There, no one expected much from her other than what she allowed them to see: her timidness, her beauty, her kindness. So this arena where it was deemed necessary she performed extrovertedness was the worst possible situation for her now that he was gone.

Neji gave her some slight respite. She couldn't comprehend where she'd be if she wasn't sitting beside him. Maybe it was simply the Hyuga traditions getting to her head, and she was conflating his duties as part of the second family as something more, but in the moment she didn't feel like considering the difference. He was there, and he wasn't asking her to speak.

Naruto, this shining beacon of light to them, this story of perseverance and hope, a leader who pulled Konoha out of the darkness. She looked around the crowd of sorrowful faces and feared whatever she had to say about their life together simply wouldn't fit the bill — it certainly didn't fit hers. Whatever she tried to bring forth felt inauthentic and cheap and teetered on dishonesty.

So she stayed quiet, she poured her tea, she offered tissues with a smile to those trying to hide their tears and silently waited for all of them to leave.

Then there was a knock at the door, and she realized that more guests were arriving; she barely contained the groan that escaped her. Thankfully, Neji was the only one who noticed and he managed to stifle a chuckle. As she walked to the door she realized that it was probably Sakura, and she relaxed.

Sakura was pleasant to have around in that she was eerily similar to Naruto. Both their auras seemed to take up the same amount of space in a room; at times it was overwhelming, but she longed for it now. Especially now that Sakura basically single handedly ran the largest hospital in all of the shinobi world, she was considered next for the Hokage position. There were a lot of awkward pressures now raining above her that Hinata could relate to, and in that familiarity she found comfort, but all that shed away when she opened the door to find not only Sakura, but Uchiha Sasuke lingering behind her.

Hinata seemed to be all out of luck nowadays.

30 minutes earlier, on a winding road towards the Uzumaki home

He had made a terrible mistake, something that seemed to be Sasuke's recurring theme.

Although, this time he had to give himself some credit. He had not intended to return to the village once he heard of Naruto's death, it seemed as if he began aimlessly walking and somehow ended up back in Konoha. As if he and the village were simply magnets, he had no conscious choice in the matter. But now that he was here it was worse than he could possibly handle.

For one, everyone seemed to burst into tears at the sight of him. The most disturbing ones being Sakura and most of all Kakashi. Even though his former sensei truly only shed one solemn tear, it was enough to send shivers down Sasuke's spine and have him walking away from whatever conversation they were having at the time.

It wasn't as if he had never seen Sakura cry, however. He had been the cause of her tears plenty of times before. But this time it was horrid, he still had bruises from how he had to hold her to ensure she wouldn't hurt herself. She had sobbed and screamed in his arms for an entire night as they lay crumpled against each other in their bed.

It should be noted, for Sasuke, shame is a familiar and comforting thing.

He felt it in the resentment that creeped around him as his wife openly grieved before him. It was what wiped away his tears as he wiped away Sakura's, it was the terror when he recognized his family in his daughter's eyes. But ultimately, it was Naruto being dead somewhere, and Sasuke not laying dead there with him.

You've been through this before, he'd think as he'd shoot up in the middle of night, reminding himself how to breathe, This isn't anything new. He wasn't certain what he was defining as common: his self-hatred, his guilt, his fear, or his unrelenting insistence on keeping himself alive despite his better judgement. Breathe in then breathe out Sasuke.

He had a friend who used to say the same thing. After he'd returned to the village, armless and lost, they'd stand in alleyways, under cherry blossom trees, in the Hokage's office and he'd say Breathe in and —

Oh.

How'd it go again?

Shame is a familiar and comforting thing.

It overcame him as he realized he'd forgotten the sound of Naruto's voice.

It was for these reasons that Sasuke ended up walking towards the Uzumaki home. Sakura had insisted, and as she announced it he simultaneously thought how she deserved more than he had to give and agreed to go not too long after. Frankly, it was the last place he wanted to be the night before the funeral, but he hadn't said this, of course, just dutifully put on his coat and tried his best to hide the extremely dejected look in his eyes.

However Sakura, suddenly as perceptive as ever, caught him as they now walked the quiet Konoha streets to Naruto's home and towards what Sasuke was believing to be his latest mistake.

"It's really nice of you to stop by" she sighed out, less as a compliment and more of a statement. This was how she talked to him nowadays and Sasuke thought he should probably not be so glad that she was clearly putting less and less effort into being sweet to him. He nodded with his eyes closed in response and Sakura sighed again as she shifted the pot of food to her left hip, "We won't have to stay for long"

"Aren't we late?" he realized that the sun had set quite some time ago, but it had taken forever to wrangle Sarada, Boruto and Himawari into bed before they left. He hadn't realized until just then that they'd probably arrive at an empty home sans Hinata.

"Yes, but we're parents and she had sent the kids to stay with us tonight, I'm sure she'll understand".

Sasuke didn't understand. He figured it would make more sense for the family to stay together the night before their father's funeral, he also figured that accommodating guests the day before your husband's funeral wasn't all that great either, but Sakura had tried to explain that the kids simply preferred to stay together, away from the home, and that it was best to be there for people in their grief. Family was a concept he was still getting used to, and the rules were all too confusing, but he certainly didn't remember anyone visiting him the days after his family's massacre.

Times have changed, he tried to reassure himself maybe times have changed.

Sasuke had to contain the laugh that almost escaped him as he watched Hinata's face drop at the sight of him. It wasn't funny, in the slightest, but sometimes it was ridiculous to remember how much of a boogeyman he was in the village. Graciously, her expression lasted for a few seconds, probably not long enough for Sakura to notice, and she made way for them to enter.

It wasn't as if he hadn't met these people before, and they certainly had met him but instantly, he felt the room go cold. It was strange, nevertheless seeing them as old as they were now, still so uncomfortable around him.

Sakura, of course, blended so easily into them that, after some time, they seemed to just regard him as her brooding shadow. This he was content with, these were the moments he appreciated Sakura in all her glory.

Sakura took up so much space even when she wasn't trying, but when she put in effort, it was like you couldn't look anywhere else. He couldn't believe he ever believed he was the best in their team of three; to think he even stood out between the two of them was a feat all on it's own. He stayed like this, leaning against a wall with his eyes closed, hoping to become one with the walls for as long as possible when a statement peaked his interest.

"I always believed him when he said he was going to be Hokage, he just had that about him", Kiba seemed to be reminiscing on something Sasuke knew he was fabricating.

"Me too, he had that presence, even as a kid, that just made you believe him" and he watched as the rest of the room solemnly nodded in agreement to Ino's lie.

People lie, for various valid reasons. Sasuke has learned this over the course of his life, and has come to accept that as much as it makes trusting people extremely difficult, it is the reality of the world he lived in. He accepted the lies Itachi told himself, the lies the village told, the ones his father told and so on and so forth.

At times, the truth is a burden you are simply not strong enough to bear. In the case of this group, the truth was that there was a time when Naruto wasn't their friend. There was a time when Naruto's biggest enemy was the way they used to look at him, and speak to him, and exclude him. The reality that their animosity when they were younger had breeded any of the suffering that the man they called a dear friend had to endure was simply too difficult to face, especially now that he was dead.

As if there could be words, as if they would matter.

Sasuke understood it was probably easier for them to lie that they were always there and always kind, so they could sleep at night and peacefully bury him. As a shinobi you lived your life regretting so much that you made any and every attempt not to add more to the list you had to atone for. Sasuke knew this as well, probably more than any of them.

Probably more than he should.

Sasuke had given his life away to atone for his regrets, for the horrible mistakes of his past. He stood there excluded and avoided, understanding that it was the consequence of all he had done. To think that the same people who couldn't even now look him in the eye, the very same people who revered themselves as better for not messing up as much as he had could bond over such a convenient lie they told themselves to avoid their own regrets and mistakes. It was enraging, it was unfair — none of it was.

And before he knew it, he was speaking, "That's a lie"

They all turned to him, instantly on guard. He could sense it, even if they weren't in fighting stances he could feel the tension that arose as soon as he spoke. He regretted saying anything at all for a moment, but at the same time, there was something telling him that he couldn't let this disrespect slide.

"Excuse me?" Kiba was the first to challenge him, which he expected. Strangely enough, he imagined had everything not happened the way it had, that he and Kiba would've been very good friends, "Who are you calling a liar?"

"All of you" he calmly responded, which was true, then he remembered he was married, and that he was a guest, "except Sakura and Hinata"

"Don't you think you're being a bit conceited, assuming you knew all of our personal relationships with Naruto"

"It's true, I didn't know your personal relationships with him, but I knew Naruto, and none of you believed him" he paused to remember genin Naruto, screaming how he was going to be Hokage while Sasuke saved him from killing himself from some stupid trick again, "I certainly didn't, so I doubt any of you did"

"And what makes you so different from us Sasuke? What makes you so special?" and Shikamaru immediately slapped Tenten's arm for asking. In fact, that seemed to divert everyone's attention away from him and onto Hinata.

Which was odd.

A child running around a village doing any and everything just to be seen and heard, that was the reality of the friend they were to bury. In all honesty, Sasuke wasn't even sure he ever did stop running. Whether it was in his little orange jumper or in his Hokage cloak he seemed to still be fighting to be granted the same thing from the village: a humanity he didn't seem to believe was inherent within him.

Couldn't he grant his dear friend, if nothing at all then, the respect of being remembered for who he truly was?

He couldn't understand how this was an insult to Hinata in any way. If anything, considering Naruto married her, he assumed she had to have felt the same. But her face was unreadable, and she averted her eyes when everyone turned to her signaling that she was uncomfortable. So he opened his mouth to apologize but before he could she whispered with incredible ferocity:

"I think it's time you all leave" and Sakura immediately shot him a look of contempt. He recoiled slightly at her gaze but he didn't see where this had all gone so wrong; nevertheless he simply nodded and began heading for the door, "Not you Sasuke"

They all turned to face her again, a familiar blush rushed into her cheeks but her stance, her eyes, were steely, "Please, stay"

Maybe it was her eyes, he barely remembers her from when they were in school. In all honesty, he didn't really remember anyone other than Sakura and Naruto, but those eyes spoke of something familiar, so he said:

"Ok" and he wondered if he should've said something like 'of course' or 'absolutely'.

He realized with hierarchies that great enthusiasm was necessary in your response to those above you, and in this case, in her empty house as she offered him tea, he probably should've been a bit more enthusiastic. She didn't seem to mind however, since he'd agreed she hadn't said a word and simply focused on preparing their tea as everyone else awkwardly but quickly shuffled out.

Sakura was the last to leave, boring her eyes into his skull. He didn't know when they'd developed such an intense connection but she didn't need to speak for him to know she was threatening him to behave. Hinata didn't seem like the temperamental type, which Sasuke understood in a way that made him sad — no, not sad, he wasn't sure, but it made him feel unpleasant in a way that reminded him of the colour green because he certainly was a lot more hot headed compared to her. Either way, he didn't believe he had anything to worry about.

Hinata was timid and barely took up space, in her small kitchen she seemed to disappear within the shadows. He guessed they fit like puzzle pieces, her and Naruto. Where he was loud, she was quiet, where he was absolute, she was fluid. They filled out the pieces of each other that were empty. He secretly thanked her for being that for Naruto, then immediately wondered why he felt the need to thank her at all, but before he could figure it out himself she was asking him a question.

"Sorry, I missed that"

"How do you like your tea?" She repeated, pleasantly, as soon as Sakura had slammed the door shut behind her.

"Oh, not a lot of sugar with a lemon slice if you have any"

She smiled to herself and fixed him a cup. It was only when he realized she fixed hers the exact same way that he understood and shared her smirk. He tried to hide it as she brought their cups to the coffee table he'd situated himself at.

And so the awkwardness commenced.

A tight thread hung between them, so tight that were it plucked it would play the sorrowful tone of their pitiful scene. Hunched over their cups like parentheses, the silence was nauseating. Unspoken words flew around them as they scrambled to figure out what to say first. There was something there that neither of them understood, there was a presence that was missing that they were too painfully aware of. They missed him dearly, they missed him loudly in their silence.

Sasuke was never good with words, Naruto made up for that. When they'd be on missions and there'd be someone needing comfort, or when the ramen man got his order wrong, or when he was frustrated at himself in ways he couldn't understand, Naruto would find the words for him. Sakura was similar in that she'd berate him to speak. It used to be incredibly aggravating but now he appreciates the brute way she seemed to encourage him to find his own voice. She'd probably be chastising him for not even sipping the tea and the thought almost made him smile.

He looked up for a moment from his cup and found that Hinata's tea was also untouched, but she was crying, and he desperately wanted to leave. This was the worst case scenario, he was in completely uncharted territory now and he honestly considered killing himself just to escape. But then Hinata caught a glance of his look of horror and quickly wiped away her tears.

"I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from, I was just thinking about what Naruto would say right now and they came out on their own" She laughed at herself as she took a sip of her tea, seemingly to unsuccessfully hide the few tears that were still streaming.

"It's ok" was Sasuke's best attempt at being comforting, Hinata slowly nodded in response.

"I actually did have things I had planned to say to you, but now that you're here, and especially after seeing how you like your tea, I can't bring myself to be angry"

So was that what she was this entire time? Angry? At him? He couldn't comprehend how he could be on her radar in any kind of way, let alone enough to be upset with him at a time like this. He couldn't believe that that moment he spoke up could upset her that much.

"Whatever I've done Hinata, I assure you I'm sorry"

She laughed again, bitterly "You must say that a lot" then she caught her cruel tone and blushed, "I'm sorry, I mean, you don't even know what you're apologizing for"

"I've done a lot of things I need to be sorry for, I've learned not to ask"

This seems to genuinely humour her, and Sasuke secretly takes a grateful deep breath. Then suddenly, she places her teacup down to look him directly in the eyes. A chill that runs down Sasuke's spine when he can feel a fight about to begin is the same one that runs down him when she makes eye contact with him.

She was challenging him, she was using every inch of herself to convey that at that moment, he was being threatened. The Hinata he was a faint memory of was a shadow, but now, he shames himself for what he was thinking earlier. For some reason it made him realize that he hadn't been in a proper battle in quite some time. Sure, there'd been scuffles here and there during his travels but nothing that had required every inch of himself to keep himself alive; simultaneously fighting his opponent and the spectre of death. This danger that he missed kept him at the table.

Once she realized he was staying, she sighed and then took a deep, slow breath, "How are you Sasuke?"

He found it funny that she felt the need to clarify she was talking to him. After that challenge he realized that he was walking on thin ice, how he got there and why was something he'd hopefully discover later on, but for now it was important, he assumed, to tread carefully, but answer honestly.

"I'm unsure, I don't have the words" and this was partially true, he certainly felt unsure but for once he did have the words. He felt foreign and out of place, in this house, in his house, in his skin and et cetera that housed whoever he was.

"That's not true" Hinata pried, her tone soft and unassuming, "I'm not one to pry but I'd like for you to be honest with me tonight, that's all I ask of you"

"I am being honest"

"No you're being honest in the way that I am—" a pause "— was Naruto's wife. I'd like for you to speak to me the way I will speak to you"

"Which is how?"

"As someone he loved"

The world spun for just a moment, but then he collected himself to correct her in what must've been a mistake in wording, "Well, Naruto loved everyone, that was kind of his thing"

She looked down again at her tea, a sad smile laced across her face. "Yes but we were lucky weren't we? He loved us differently"

"How differently" and Sasuke suddenly realized that he was upright and at the edge of his seat. He wanted her to say it, desperately, what he was too afraid to admit to himself, the true weight of his loss.

She seemed to recognize this, that she held all the power between them and Hinata considered for a moment being what she's always been, gracious and forgiving. But then she thought of how she'd be returning to an empty bed, and wake up to an empty home, to live an empty life without Naruto and realized she was lacking the space for her usual kindness. It had slipped through her fingers leaving her empty handed and bitter. So she spoke of something else.

"You know I had a crush on you when I was little? I think everyone did, but I think mine was special because it was short lived" she blushed at the memory, because in all honesty it lasted probably a month.

"Hinata" Sasuke was way too uncomfortable and confused, he was certain he was watching her unravel before him and he couldn't figure out why it had to be him that she let herself fall apart in front of "I'm sorry, but if there's nothing else I'd like to leave"

She released a heavy sigh and got up to pour them more tea, and it was then that Sasuke realized that he was trapped. Her shoulders looked a lot tighter then when she had initially sat down at the table, her hands trembled pouring the hot water into their cups, but she was already returning to the table when he considered helping her.

"Can't we just talk, Sasuke? Hm?"

"To be frank, I don't see what there is to talk about between us" that was harsh "Sorry"

She chuckled, "Well alright, let's do the customary discussion then, what's your favorite memory with him?" He squinted his eyes in clear confusion and she clarified "Of Naruto? What's your favorite memory of him?"

The memory of the sun setting over Konoha after the war returned to him. The two of them were walking back to Naruto's place, as he was ordered to stay with him until the village heads could finalize the appropriate accommodations other than the cell Naruto had loudly stood against. Naruto was grumbling about how irritated he was with Lady Tsunade "for even suggesting something so fucking stupid" and Sasuke realized then that it had been a long time since he'd heard Naruto's crude language and it made him smile.

"I go to fucking war for this stupid village and expose all the bullshit they've done just for us to come back and they try to make the same fucking mistakes I feel like tearing my hair out!"

"It's really not that big of a deal Naruto" Sasuke interjected into his muttering as they finally arrived at Naruto's apartment, but even as he fumbled with his keys to open the door, the blonde boy kept on ranting. Sasuke appreciated, for the moment the door wouldn't budge, how closely they stood together.

"No it is that big of a deal Sasuke because I'm not letting them treat ya like shit as if yer some fucking criminal"

The way Naruto's strange accent slipped out when he was angry made Sasuke laugh, throwing his head back as they entered Naruto's quaint home, "You are right, I'm actually a domestic terrorist"

"Were! You were a terrorist but you came back, I got ya back, and it's not like you did all that shit for no reason, yer not a lunatic!"

"Ok then" Sasuke realized that he was not going to get anywhere with this and it was probably best to leave Naruto to rage to himself. He looked around the room, because he couldn't really call it an apartment, it was really just a room, and wondered how this could possibly work. There was only one bed, and not enough space for a futon. By the time it clicked what they'd have to do, Naruto had walked off to shower before he could protest, still ranting to himself.

This was wrong.

It's not like they hadn't slept near each other before, such was the circumstances of rural missions. Everyone shared blankets, or everyone cuddled in some way with Kakashi to keep warm. But this felt different, after everything, this felt like a new kind of intimate that Sasuke wasn't really prepared for.

It didn't make any sense why he was panicking so much, it was just Naruto, and yet his hands were clammy. He struggled figuring out where to place down his coat, and couldn't decide whether to sit down at the table, or lean against the kitchen counter, or sit down on the bed, and Naruto returned to find him just awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, he laughed at the sight as he used a towel to shake the water from his hair. For a moment, as the last light of the day hit his friend, the world stopped and Sasuke's breath was taken away.

"What are you doing?" Naruto asked, still amused as he finally grabbed some random shirt lying around and put it on. As Sasuke silently tried to figure out a response, Naruto threw himself face first onto his bed, clearly exhausted leaving Sasuke at even more of a loss of words than before.

While he was struggling to find comfort in their unique circumstances, Naruto clearly didn't see anything to be uncomfortable with. Because there was nothing, Sasuke concluded, he was making it up and blowing it all out of proportion. This was further accentuated by Naruto's casual, "Are you coming to bed?"

But then he blushed.

Sasuke was sure he hadn't imagined it for a moment, Naruto had blushed and immediately turned his head to face the other way before continuing to speak, "I'm sorry I don't have a futon, I've never really had anyone else stay over".

Just when Sasuke had thought things were going to be simple, Naruto had to go and do that. So as Naruto continued to face away from him, and slowly pulled himself under the covers, Sasuke announced that he was going to take a shower just so he could have some time to calm himself down.

Unfortunately, it didn't work, he emerged from the shower realizing he had no clue what to wear other than the sweaty clothes he had just changed out of and this sent him into another horrible panic. And it was impossible to articulate how particularly embarrassing it was considering all the fantastical things he'd done and the people he'd killed, that there he was hunched over naked in Naruto's bathroom, holding his knees because he was too anxious to ask Naruto to borrow some clothes.

Breathe in and —

No wait, not yet, that's a later memory

Eventually, he wrapped a towel around himself and worked up the courage to go outside and ask, but as soon as he opened the door, he found a neat pile of clothes folded right at his feet. Taped on top in Naruto's messy handwriting it read:

You didn't bring extra clothes idiot! Hope this keeps you warm :)

He was disgustingly in love with Naruto, in a way that made his palms sweat and his head swirl. He wanted to forget his clothes over and over again to get sweetly aggressive notes from him. This was something he had spent most of his life running from but, like most things, it returned to him, in the form of a sweet note on a pile of clothes.

He wanted to crawl into that bed and wrap his arm around him forever. It made him so full of light he could barely contain it, it had him imagining a love that lived in a private little home on the outskirts of the village. Not too far and not too close. He imagined adopting the random orphaned children that roamed around the village. As he slipped his way into Naruto's clothes he imagined a love so quiet and peaceful he found himself asking whether he deserved it all. Couldn't he have him, if anything, if anyone, couldn't he have them together, somewhere?

When he returned to the room to find Naruto peacefully snoring away, he remembered the authority Naruto eluded in the meeting with Lady Tsunade, he realized that one day Naruto's face would plastered onto that mountain looming over the village, as the moonlight shimmering against his skin, he realized that the room suddenly felt a lot larger than before and that the answer had and always would be a resounding no. So he borrowed a pillow and slept on the floor.

When he fell asleep feeling warm, he decided to wake up to live his life pretending that he was cold.

"I loved him," he ends up blurting out in response to Hinata's question, and she blinks for a moment, before silently nodding and taking a sip of her tea.

"Yes, but that isn't really a memory"

"No, I mean", he sighed, "That's what you really want me to admit, that I loved him," he was speaking as if—

She paused, and considered being cruel again. It'd be completely in her right, this was the very reason she had asked him to stay at all. There was something rancid bubbling up from within her, she had decided Naruto's Sasuke was the one doomed to receive it.

But long ago lived a woman who bore both their eyes and Hinata wondered if she knew they'd be passed down to such sad souls. Lost and searching for a purpose that was no longer alive. Begging for some kind of direction in the completely unfamiliar land they had found themselves in.

He was hoping to discover himself all over again depending on how she responded, she knew this, and she had all the power in the world to be cruel. But she looked at him, recognized those pitiful eyes and said:

"Yes" and the relief that washed over him angered her in ways she chose to contain.

Sasuke mistook this for kindness, as most people seemed to always do with her, and finally took a sip of his tea, foolishly becoming comfortable. It's cold, and he wondered how long he had spent silently reminiscing in front of her. But decided not to ask, instead he wondered:

"How long have you known?"

She remembers one of the days just after the village had been destroyed by Pein. She was so overwhelmed by the despair she could barely see past her tears. She was grateful, as anyone was, for Naruto's achievements. Literally bringing the entire village back to life was probably a feat only he could achieve. Through all the sadness of trying to rebuild her home out of the rubble it had become, she couldn't help but be reminded that the air she breathed had been breathed into her because of Naruto.

She had been perfectly content with dying that day as well. Something she looked back on and regretted, because in all honesty, as amazing as he was, surely her disfigured and broken body wasn't necessary to free him from his bonds. But nonetheless, as she closed her eyes for what she believed would be the last time, she thought of his smile and the memory of him saving her all those years ago, and believed it would all be ok. To wake up after such acceptance was jarring to say the least, and from that day on Naruto became a god in her eyes.

She believed the ground he walked on turned to gold. If she looked down, his footsteps reflected a Hinata she wished she could be. She worshipped him for it, for her.

Where the village brought kunai knives and a Hokage gown to drape the marble floors of his holy temple, Hinata was on her hands and knees, her skin cracking from the strong soap she used to scrape the soot between the cracks in the floors. Where they brought gifts and glorious titles, Hinata brought back breaking labour, but they all wanted the same thing. They all wanted his blessing, his protection, to be granted his love as loyal worshippers.

But on this day, after she returned from helping a mother find one of her lost children, she followed the footsteps made of gold she imagined on the ground to Naruto leaning against a tree, basking in the shade with Sakura. Maybe it was the life newly invigorated within her, but a sudden waft of confidence she had never felt before overcame her. She dipped and dodged past the traffic of shinobi rushing from one end of the village to the other to somehow find herself standing before the village heroes.

Her hands were sweaty, but then again, when weren't they back then.

"Uh-uhm -" she began

"Oi Hinata! We were just planning to go get ramen if you'd like to come?" Naruto beamed, apparently unaware she was trying to speak at all. He lightly pushed himself off of the trunk of the tree and her confidence almost dissipated right then and there. He wasn't that much taller than her, but she couldn't help but describe him looking at her as something similar to 'looming'. He cast a shadow that sent chills down her spine every time.

"Oh well-"

"I know what you're thinking," he continued again, oblivious, "Teuchi shouldn't be runnin' a shop with all this shit goin' on but that's exactly why I love it! It tastes like"

He paused to step closer to her, his hands open like a fan before her face as he said his final line, his fingers wiggling for added effect: "dedication!"

Sakura apparently caught the completely stunned look on Hinata's face that Naruto was seemingly attesting to his delivery. She playfully smacked Naruto across the head and the pang of jealousy that erupted in Hinata was more embarrassing than the ridiculous dumbstruckness that Sakura snapped her out of. Naruto dramatically threw himself to the floor, probably to hide the fact that Sakura had actually hurt him, which she always did.

Hinata, at the time, didn't like that about her fellow pink haired kunoichi. She was abrasive and blunt, she never seemed to notice when Naruto was bruising from her hits. Later, she realized that had he ever bothered to admit that she was strong enough to hurt him she'd have held back sometimes. But that was wisdom for an older, more critical Hinata. All she knew then was that she was barely listening to whatever Sakura was saying to her, she wanted to rush over and rub balm on Naruto's pain.

"You don't have to give in to him Hinata, he's only roping you in because I said no since I have actual responsibilities right now and don't have time to indulge in some 'dedicated ramen'"

"I have responsibilities too y'know!" Naruto suddenly shot up, "It's not my fault I get breaks 'cause I saved the whole village"

"Whatever," She rolled her eyes, looking away from him, her expression holding a strange sadness. It was likely she did want to stay with him, she had been lingering around him more often then. Hinata considered for a moment how she would've felt to helplessly watch one of her siblings turn into a monster before her eyes, and she understood then that Sakura and Naruto were probably made up of the same stuff.

She wondered suddenly if Naruto had realized that he could give up on all of it because of this simple fact. Whether he discovered that a family, and for the example of Sakura, a sister, was something that was made more than it was something he was born into. The cusp of Sakura's and Naruto's relationship seemed to be always hiding this from each other; unable to truly be distant, unable to ever truly be close, so Hinata kept it to herself.

Sakura began walking away before turning to Hinata to give her another out of Naruto's invitation, "I'm walking to what must be the 5th hospital board meeting right now, I'm certain the Hyuuga encampment is on the way, I can walk you there if that's where you're headed Hinata"

It was where she was headed, Hinata did have responsibilities now that the clan had to completely rebuild with the village. Being the largest and strongest clan in Konoha meant an especially bright spotlight was on their ability to rise from the ashes; they all wanted to get a taste of the strength her family was meant to help build. It was honestly suffocating, considering she didn't believe she had whatever they were looking for.

She knew her father would be waiting for her when she returned, she knew that there were meetings to attend and people she needed to bow to. She knew her siblings needed her, but Naruto was here. She was sure her father would appreciate hearing how she'd been seen around with the village hero — it'd be good for his politics.

"Um, I actually am a little hungry" she quietly conceded and Naruto hooted in celebration, she tried not to faint as he wrapped an arm around her. He always seemed to need to touch people.

"Eating ramen with someone means people are less likely to ask me big questions I can't answer" He revealed as they began their walk to the shop, one that had been painfully quiet until he spoke up, "Going from no one speaking to me to suddenly everyone wanting to know what's going on in my head is hard ya'know, mainly 'cause I don't even know what's going on in my head"

She noticed he seemed to be mumbling the ends of his sentences more often. Like there were things he wanted to say out loud but also wanted to keep to himself. She figured best to ignore it, she wanted to be the person who gave him some peace of mind. By the time they'd arrived at the shop, she hadn't managed to conjure up nearly enough questions that would make her seem fascinating and unique. It didn't matter anyways, the minute they sat down at the little tables Teuchi had provided to compensate for the lack of a store front, she looked into his eyes and fell into a trance.

She remembered all over again why it was so easy to die for him, she remembered why she'd do it again.

They quietly watched as people bussled by, Naruto chuckled often at the speedy messengers attempting to meander through the crowds. He seemed to melt into his chair, casually leaning an arm off of the back of it, his legs loosely spread apart, his head held up by his arm whose elbow was resting on the table. He reminded her of honey, and everything thick and sweet that stuck to you like a warm embrace. And when his eyes eventually flicked to her, lazy and slow, she remembered the days she was sick, and her mother would dilute bitter medicine with a spoonful of liquid sugar. He looked at her and she felt sickly sweet all over.

"Y'know, you stare a lot Hinata" he suddenly announced, and it was clear he meant it more as an off hand remark than an insult but it didn't stop her from averting her gaze to the table immediately, "Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean it in a bad way, it's just, it reminded me of —"

"Sasuke" she finished for him, the name bouncing into her lap and said so softly she didn't even think he'd hear it, because she really hadn't meant to bring him up. But he did, of course he did, something else she'd have to learn as she grew alongside him. He could hear that name in the middle of a storm, as the waves cut and crashed against his boat and as his fellow seaman screamed for mercy, screamed for any chance of hope, if the wind as it roared, if for even a moment, if it whispered his name, he'd hear it.

This was how he looked at her when she finally raised her head, like she was the storm, and the wind, and the lightning and Sasuke's name was the light beaconing him to calmer waters. She mistook it for the beginnings of love, she convinced herself that she was the light he was looking for, that she was his eye in the storm, though she knew even then that it wasn't true. She knew even then and yet, the bliss of pretending for even a moment was enough to throw her into a lifetime of delusion.

"How'd you know?" how couldn't she?

"Y-you don't," she gave herself pause to breathe, "You don't talk about him often, at least, anymore. I figured you missed him."

His eyes darkened and he looked away again. She'd seen that look before, in the shinobi's that would pass through her home as a child. It was an aimless stare as they walked from one destination to another, as if their body was just a vessel they were floating over. It terrified her, but excited her all the same as a child. Now, in Naruto's eyes, it was sad and incredibly heavy. Too heavy for someone who was meant to be the same age as her.

Their youth suddenly hit her like a waft of fresh air. It dizzied her back to reality as the bowls of ramen finally arrived and she tried to hold back her laughter as his eyes practically glossed over with enticement, all semblance of sorrow dissipated. Later, after she had managed to beat him at warfing down their bowls the fastest and Naruto had practically fainted in indignation, he walked her back to her encampment. The euphoria was impossible to explain, she was barely listening to whatever it was he was rambling about as they walked.

Something about the scenery, something about the random strangers they passed that he apparently knew, he kicked me out of his shop once because I tried stealing some rope, she believed she heard him say but she wasn't sure. He seemed to be trying to fill up the space between them with as many words as possible; she didn't mind.

The moon was smiling down on them from high in the night sky by the time they arrived at the encampment. She'd always preferred nights in Konoha over the days; there was something magical in the way the stars would come out to perform, and how the moon would bless the village with a cool hue that had her feeling like she was in a dream. She always seemed to be chasing illusions; in the stars, in the moon, in Naruto's eyes. She didn't understand why, but she decided that was something she was destined to figure out later on in her life.

"Uh, Hinata?" Naruto began, suddenly nervous and bashful, his eyes downcast to his feet. It was an unusual dynamic between them, she didn't know how to manage if both of them were nervous wrecks, the balance was completely off that way.

"Yes?" she managed after some time, he seemed to be struggling with getting out whatever he was trying to say, and Hinata was struggling not to strain her neck out to him, not to stretch her hands out to him for her to hold. She failed in the end, and as she laced her fingers into his gruff, dry hands he released a sigh that filled her lungs with air.

"Thank you" he mumbled, again to the ground, "I've been trying to keep myself together with everything going on and —"

She wasn't entirely sure what she expected; foolishly her heart teased her with a confession. Maybe he'd look at her and tell her that she was everything he needed and more. Did the moon make her look illuminating? Did her eyes reflect the peace he needed in his life? Was her skin smooth enough for it to be confused for porcelain? Delicate, elusive, but dependable. She wanted to be everything he needed; soft, malleable, palatable, all so he could tell her —

"Sasuke is hard to think about on normal days y'know, but I do miss him," he paused, finally, to look at her, " Thank you for reminding me, of him y'know, 'cause it feels like missing him is all I have of him nowadays"

Ah.

She still doesn't remember how she responded, only that she managed to keep their goodbyes pleasant, and that she watched him disappear into the dwindling crowd of villagers returning home. Only that she missed him as soon as he was gone; she wanted to hold his hands again, to feel sweet again as he looked into her eyes. She relished in the fact that she'd given him some joy. She was being willfully ignorant to the large boot looming over her, waiting to crush her into nothingness, waiting to kick her back into reality. What did it matter, she had granted him something he had missed, something that he needed.

How much more did he want? He spoke of Sasuke like he was something he owned. She wondered if he imagined him in pieces. She'd bring his fingers back, bloodied and raw if it meant Naruto would thank her that same way again. Maybe he wanted the meat of his abdomen, she'd tear it out with the blunt of her nails. If he wanted the feet that he ran away with she wouldn't hesitate to gnaw them off with teeth brittle from weeks of starvation. She was hungry for any of his adoration, any of his grace; for the first time she felt a love for him that was animalistic and rabid.

It was only when she laid her head to rest that night, as she thought of the grey in his eyes at that table, at glossy eyes that bore thanks onto her under the moonlight, that she realized she was angry at all.

Would he ever want for her the same way one day?

Would he miss missing her one day too?

Could his stomach growl for the hunger only she could fill one day? Or would she have to always trick him that she tasted like the slick blood of revenge and boyish elegance so he'd consume her?

That night she wondered what taste lingered in his mouth when she wasn't around, because he left her with something bitter that was always enveloped by the sweet, warm embrace of honey. She told herself that it was love before finally falling asleep.

Once, when she was young, Hinata's mother had been honest with her. Usually her mother spoke in elaborate puzzles that she wouldn't be able to decipher, and most times she wouldn't speak at all. She'd sit on the windowsill by their garden, let the light from the sun bask over her, and pretend not to hear her husband's guests declare just how beautiful she was. She'd pretend not to see the pride that enveloped him when they got lost in her allure, when they called her as captivating as a statue carved in the likeness of a god.

When the guests would leave, she'd gracefully leave the windowsill, let her husband plant a soft kiss on her cheek as he wandered off to the next meeting who knows where, and she'd dutifully shuffle off to the bedroom to be attended to until dinner. It was during one of these moments, as she sat silently watching the maids pampering her and preparing dinner, that she turned to Hinata, who was gazing from afar, and declared:

"Hinata, there is a thin line between love and devotion, your job as a wife is to eliminate that line, at all times"

Considering she was merely ten, she failed to see how she was meant to comprehend whatever that meant. Especially considering her mother promptly died the next day. It was a final message that terrified her; she remembered gazing up at her father the day of the funeral and regarding that he was scowling in the same way he did when there was an unsavory political matter in the village. He never cried, not in front of her at least.

She wondered what about him her mother had spent her better years devoting herself to. Hinata's father was cold and direct, he spoke even less than her mother did. Hinata could count on her fingers all the times her father had encouraged her or said that he loved her, what about him was worth loving?

Then Hinata met Naruto, then Hinata devoted herself to Naruto, and things started to make sense, in the awful way that made her think it was ok to spend the rest of your life gazing at nothing out of an old window for hours on end. Easily replaceable by delicate, beautiful marble.

She, too, found herself carved out of cold stone, and she wondered if her children would gaze up at her during their father's funeral, and wonder what there ever was for him to love.

"Where have you been Sasuke?" is what Hinata wants to respond with, after deciding not to answer his question in the end. She always hated it when Naruto would do that, answer a question with a question, like he was trying to hide something from her. He wasn't a coward, they both knew this, but for some reason, around her, he seemed to like to pretend.

"I hated you for a long time" Hinata settles with, looking at nothing in particular as she did, "Like a true hate I have never felt for anyone"

"Hm" Sasuke nodded in response, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands.

"You must get that a lot" Hinata concluded from his lack of reaction, "It is very strange how comfortable you seem to be with being disliked"

"It's strange?"

"Yes" she sat up a bit more in her chair, "Most people would have some kind of aversion to being hated, they'd make some kind of effort to change people's perceptions of them"

"Ah", Sasuke understood where this was going, Sakura had given him the speech of 'atonement' before albeit he believed ostracization was adequate. Nevertheless, he took on silly missions and became a silent tool for the village and defined that as 'atonement' instead of what he knew it really was — an excuse to get away.

"Do you care?" Hinata seemed oddly fixated on this however.

"On how people view me?"

"Yes"

"No"

She figured that was the answer that was to be expected, it didn't even seem like he cared all that much what his own daughter thought of him. She wondered how liberating that must be. To just exist, aimlessly and selfishly, the idea excited her for a moment, a solitary moment.

"I care too much" he suddenly mumbled, and it seemed to surprise the both of them as they shot up to make eye contact, "I know it doesn't make sense but I can't allow myself to care about how this village views me, I don't think I'd survive if I did"

That really made Hinata laugh, a kind of laugh that hadn't escaped her for years. One that had her gripping at the edges of the table, and it was clear Sasuke was uncomfortable and confused. Maybe that was difficult for him to admit, but it would be too cruel for the universe not to expect her to find immense humour in that.

He didn't think he could survive.

Yet there she was, the 'she' encompassing any and every person who was cursed with womanhood in the village, there she was, surviving. Living in this dichotomy where her entire being was constructed and dependent on the village's view of her. Her usefulness, her wife-liness, her beautifulness.

He didn't think he could survive.

And yet there she was — the 'she' encompassing the wails and cries of Konoha women who had been born and had died in the background of the background of the village's history — there she was.

She realized she hadn't visited her mother's grave in decades.

One of Sasuke's biggest pet peeves about the other man was that a boulder could be barreling towards him and he'd stand there unaware, waiting to be crushed. He saw it in the little things, like the way he'd be startled by a child running full speed past him, or a fly landing on his shoulder, or simply anyone making their presence known around him. It was as if he got so lost in the peaceful meadow he escaped to within his head that he'd completely forget about any outside dangers.

He didn't remember that about him when they were genin, or when they were at war, but he figured it was one of those new ticks he'd gained from the terrors he'd experienced. They all had their own, Sakura with her constant need to have her hands moving, Kakashi's cracked fingers, Sasuke and his intensified brooding. Sasuke just hated Naruto's, he despised it with everything in him.

"Hi Naruto" he called to the man who was sitting quietly behind his desk, and of course, Naruto jumped a little at Sasuke's greeting. For a moment, Sasuke wondered if Naruto imagined them together in that meadow. He wondered if they were honest with each other there.

"Oh hi Sasuke" he smiled, pleasantly surprised as he shuffled papers to the side. "I didn't expect you today"

"You're the one who offered me ramen idiot" Sasuke fought the urge to roll his eyes as Naruto's face exclaimed in embarrassment.

"I did! Oh man, I'm sorry! I completely forgot"

Sasuke seemed to always be fighting something when he was around Naruto, this time he fought his old friend disappointment, "Whatever, I'll head home then"

But Naruto hurried to his feet, awkwardly catching the papers that flew in the breeze of his brisk movement. He smiled just as awkwardly as Sasuke watched him collect himself, "Uh well I made a promise, I never go back on my word ya'know —"

"It's your ninja way" Sasuke finished for him with a little bit of a teasing tone to hide his own excitement, "I don't want to disturb you"

"You could never disturb me Sasuke"

Naruto seemed to have a knack for saying things that killed Sasuke a thousand times over the same way he'd regard something as mundane as clear skies. He'd leave Sasuke dumbstruck and breathless over words he seemed to believe held no weight at all. It was impossible to describe how much Sasuke wished to kiss him then.

He imagined a locked door, and barred windows, and a hurried, hungry silence as they fell into each other. Would they be careless enough to push the papers off his desk? Would Naruto be ok with Sasuke's fingers lovingly wrapped around his neck as they merged into one? No one would have to know, no one would ever know.

But as Naruto turned to him after finally finding his cloak, a large grin plastered on his face, he thought of sunset over Konoha and a note too sweet ontop of clothes too small and he managed to win the fight against his oldest friend, love, letting his own peaceful meadow float away as soon as it came.

"I'm not paying for you" he grumbled, and it made Naruto laugh.

Because, as always, he did pay.

"Why did you marry Sakura?" Hinata was pouring him another cup of tea, he was trying to think of ways he could avoid drinking it. He was certain tea leaves were forming at the roof of his mouth.

"I don't know", Sasuke answered honestly, and maybe it was because he was distracted but he realized then that that was the first time he had spoken that truth out loud, "I saw a simple life with her"

"But you're not certain" Hinata concluded for him as she poured herself the rest of the tea, hopefully, Sasuke thought, the last of the tea.

"No, I'm not"

"How romantic"

He scowled into his cup and considered this, romance. The only time he'd ever truly believed in it, he'd run full speed in the opposite direction. It was a terrifying ordeal, to be truly and completely in love, it almost killed him more times than he could count. Was it so wrong for him to want something that was easy and kept him warm at night?

"But Sakura isn't a something " Sasuke hadn't realized he'd been speaking out loud until Hinata interjected, "She's a someone"

"I know"

"Do you?" Hinata's eyes narrowed as she took a sip and the history of the Byakugan suddenly returned to him. He wondered if she was peering at the points in his body that could kill him right then, he wondered if she'd take the chance, he wondered if he'd even try to stop her.

"Of course" he sighed, "She's my wife"

"Well no, she was the simple choice. I'd hardly consider her your wife, she was and is simply, convenient"

They sat in that statement for a moment and Sasuke remembered that the two of them were probably very good friends. Sakura must've sat on the very chair he was sat on, complaining and lamenting about her horrible husband and the woes of motherhood. Faintly, he felt guilty that that didn't particularly disturb him.

It should've disturbed him, he realized. At the end of the day it didn't affect him all that much that Sakura was alone, and that his daughter barely knew him, or that he wasn't entirely sure what Sakura did at the hospital. Guilt and shame, Sasuke failed to see a difference between the two.

But Sakura looked so much like how she did when he was a genin and he'd abandoned all he'd known. Sarada had his mothers face and his brother's timid intensity. And now, Naruto had died.

It seemed, he realized, that he was still running from the pains of his past.

"You're a horrible person" Hinata giggled as she took another sip, "It makes me feel better about hating you for so long"

"He was a terrible genin," Sasuke lamented.

He had moved to the small couch in the center of the Uzumaki living room, Hinata curled into a sofa across from him. He had followed her there as she described the memories behind family pictures littered around their home. Sasuke never got used to how Naruto looked as a father, Hinata's stories didn't help.

He didn't bother to express that discomfort, however. She seemed to be regurgitating her entire life with Naruto and he figured it rude to interrupt with his own stupid jealousy. They both were regurgitating anyways, now that Sasuke had begun telling stories of Naruto's life as a genin. It was strange how much their lives overlapped, he could see himself in the background of some of the stories she told.

A dinner party he had sat at an opposite table at, an after mission ramen escapade he hadn't remembered Hinata joining in on. They spoke of stories that revealed the possibility for a very strange friendship, one they never knew they had been avoiding. He wondered if there was a word for reminiscing on memories never formed.

"Really?" Hinata seemed surprised.

"Yes," Sasuke smiled as he remembered catching Naruto falling down a waterfall, "I seemed to spend most of my time trying to make sure he didn't kill himself"

"Hm," she seemed pensive, and she looked over at a picture of the entire Uzumaki family sitting under the shade of a tree, "Sometimes I forget how different he was from how I saw him"

"Which was how?"

It was a difficult question to answer, because in all honesty, Hinata found it all a bit convoluted. In Konoha, you were a woman before you were a person. And to be a woman was to be a burden, it was to be a mother, it was to be the beautiful face waiting for the brave to come home. With Naruto, but oh, with Naruto it felt like the world was endless. It felt like right between her lungs, in the small space where all her anxiousness and awkwardness used to lay, was all that was infinite; she felt like he could make her more.

"Did he? Make you more?" Hinata hadn't realized she was speaking out loud, she was almost startled by Sasuke's question. She looked towards Naruto's empty chair at the dinner table, closed her eyes and smelled his cinnamony smell that wasn't there, inhaled all that he could never be.

As her mother had reminded her, there was a thin line between love and devotion. Her father was devoted to his family and his clan, but what he loved, what brought him warmth as he slept at night was order, and the power that came with it.

Hinata spent her life blurring that line, regardless of the fact that it stayed unblurred and rigid no matter how hard she scrubbed. She believed she was devoted to Naruto because she loved him.

This she believed to be simple.

This she willed to be simple.

Regardless of the way she felt at peace when he wasn't home. Regardless of the heavy sigh she'd silently release when he complimented her. Regardless of the slight relief that washed over her when she was told he had died.

She loved him, because regardless of these unblurred and rigid truths, she was his wife and that was what wives did. They loved as much as they devoted.

Simply.

She turned to Sasuke and smiled, "No, not even a little"

She thought of her mother's solemn grave, she thought of the windowsill in her fathers home that was enveloped in decades of dust. She remembered the reflection she'd see in Naruto's footsteps and thought of herself as infinite.

After sometime, Hinata settled on being kind again and decided to finally answer Sasuke's question on how long she had known.

"Always" he repeats, as if to convince himself.

"Always" she repeats, stupidly, but also as if to hone in a point that she isn't even aware of herself.

"How? I mean, I barely knew for most of my life, how have you always known?"

Hinata sighed and checked the time. Naruto was meant to be returning from work at this time, she figured he was running late. Then just before she responded, she remembered, and the ridiculousness almost made her laugh. "You know how, try as you might, you cannot grab the air. You can shift it this way and that way but at the end of the day you just can't grasp it?"

"Yes"

"Imagine the love between you and Naruto as the air, and imagine me as the fool standing in a field in the middle of a storm, trying to grab it so I can breathe"

Sasuke stared forward, his face unreadable. She wondered if he ever had the capacity to look shameful. She figured those were the special kinds of things only Sakura and Naruto got to see. To be fair, she really only was his widow, she figured herself unworthy and almost laughed again.

"Or in other words," she continued amidst the silence, picking up her tea to take a sip, "You were soulmates"

Sasuke considered apologizing again, but then thought that would probably make it all worse. He just secretly thanked the gods that Naruto had loved and married a woman who was a lot more of a pacifist than Sakura. Sasuke sighed and suddenly felt a wave of warmth he hadn't felt in quite some time.

"Would you like some sake?" She offered, and for a moment it surprised him, but he looked into her sunken eyes and figured, if anything, he could accept some alcohol. He gave a curt nod in affirmation, and she gracefully stood up to grab their glasses.

"You know," he began speaking before he was even sure what he was planning to say, but he felt the need to fill the space of silence somehow, "Kakashi has the driest hands on earth"

She looked back at him, clearly confused. He hoped he would be able to string something sensible together before she thought otherwise about the sake.

"I used to think it was because of the Chidori," he lifted his own hand to look at his palm as he explained, "A symptom of the tense electric air that surrounds your hands. But he admitted to me that he just couldn't help trying to wash the blood away"

As Hinata registered what that meant, she busied herself again with finding the bottle of sake she swore they had left. The Uzumaki's weren't all that fond of alcohol, but Hinata? When Naruto would be on a long trip and she found herself wrangling the kids to bed for nights on end, Hinata loved a good bottle of sake. She was certain she had a few left, and was so focused on finding them that at first she didn't realize Sasuke had continued speaking.

"His habit terrified me, and it made me hate the village more than I already did. After some time, I found myself always staring at Naruto's hands, looking for cracks, checking to see if they were as dry" she finally found the bottle and turned to face Sasuke as Naruto's name was mentioned. She feared what he was trying to say, but she sat down and poured him a glass nonetheless.

"And?" she prompted, after he politely waited for her to sit back down before continuing.

"They never were'', he bowed, and took a sip, "I'm sure Naruto had regrets, we all do, but he lived his life in a way that he had a lot fewer than the rest of us. Or at least a lot less blood to religiously try and wash away"

"It's not like he was an angel, we all fought a war"

"Yes, but a lot of us fought for the wrong reasons" he stared into his cup, she stared at his dry hands wrapped tensely around his glass, "He was a good man, a kind of man I doubt I'll ever meet again"

She hm'd, understanding the feeling; that she had met and lived with a deity and anyone else she was bound to meet simply wouldn't compare. It was terrifying, it was a terror that enveloped her whenever she stopped for a moment to think of how grand he was. To think of the stories that generations would come to tell. She wondered if she'd get a footnote in the tale that was Naruto.

"I think what I'm trying to say is, I'm certain he never regretted you"

Hinata smiled at the sentiment, but also at how incredibly long it took him to say something so simple. She appreciated his effort nonetheless and lifted the bottle to pour him another round of sake. "I guess you considered me calling you soulmates as permission to lament on his love for me"

Surprisingly, Sasuke smirked; to think they had the same bitter humour too, "Well, I never thought of us as 'soulmates' until you said it"

"Yeah well", she sighed, pouring herself more than she intended. They both sat there silently for a moment, neither reaching to take a sip, respectively losing themselves in memories they figured best not to share out loud.

"It does feel incredibly wrong," Sasuke seemed to conclude, breaking the silence again. It made Hinata laugh unexpectedly, because she really couldn't help feeling like Naruto was extremely late coming home.

"I'm beginning to think most things feel incredibly wrong before they ever feel right"

"Ah," Sasuke smiled, "We were destined for each other, but you got to marry him, and we both lost him in the end"

"And now we drink" She lifted her glass for him to meet his with, she didn't know how she felt about the pride that enveloped her at finally getting Sasuke to laugh, "This is the part where things start feeling right"

Long after Sasuke had concluded that he had loved Naruto and had also concluded that this didn't mean either of them had to die, he found his friend outside his home, squatting in front of his garden. Sasuke loved to plant himawari's, they were his mother's favourite, and he would always find Itachi tending to them, silently and religiously, on Sunday mornings. Naruto was cautiously holding one on his fingertips, seemingly lost in the flower's face.

He considered this image for a moment, of Naruto bent over the flower, pensive as the sun's light, slowly setting, enveloped him in a burst of colour. He considered what it was to be in love and it made him smile. He hated himself for breaking the fantasy.

"What are you doing here?" and Naruto jumped, again, unaware of Sasuke's presence.

"Oh, hi Sasuke"

So they stood there for a moment, staring at each other, as they found themselves doing often since the both of them returned to the village, both an arm short. They seemed to be daring the other to say something they were both too terrified to say out loud. Ironically, Sasuke was the one standing unaware as a boulder barreled towards him.

I love you, I'm sorry, I love you except what Sasuke heard was, "I'm getting married next week"

I love you more than my senses can allow except what Naruto heard was, "Oh" and after some time, "Congratulations"

There was something he was forgetting to do, something about his lungs being filled with air, something about him exhaling.

"Right" Naruto curtly nodded in response, and Sasuke considered the himawari's again, the scene meaning something entirely new. He wondered if Naruto knew that the stars were weeping above him. He wondered if he knew that the earth was crumbling beneath their feet. He wondered if he knew that all the colour in the world had been lost. Couldn't he see, all was suddenly grey, what colour was he in Naruto's eyes?

"Well, I'll be gone next week" Sasuke settled with, as cowardly as ever.

"Yes"

"You knew this"

"Yes"

"You've known this"

"Yes"

"She must've chosen the date"

"No, I had insisted"

"Insisted"

"Yes"

"Oh"

They seemed to be terrified of moving from their respective spots. There was a thin line between them, it was powerful still. It was a boundary they had come so close to touching only once and it was when they were both on the cusp of dying. It was so sweet, so inviting, Sasuke stopped fearing death right then and there.

There was a thin line between who they were and who they could be. It was made of their history, of the mistakes neither of them could take back, of stories that weren't theirs, but mostly, they both knew this, mainly it was made of the flimsy, unreliable material of cowardice.

But Naruto was always the better part of the two of them so, of course, he said:

"I'm in love with you."

Then he married Hinata the following week—Sasuke didn't attend.

This was how he came to learn that Naruto had loved him as well.

"I have to thank you Hinata" she looked up at him, running a hand roughly through her long hair as she did. The sake had definitely gotten to her now, she was a lot less refined, and it signaled to Sasuke that their night was about to come to an end.

"For what?"

"For this, I don't think I've ever been this honest about how I loved him because I don't think I ever believed I would ever get the chance to speak it out loud" he paused, because this was true. What was the point of a love that you had to keep a secret? It was better to pretend it never existed at all, which he did. For most of the end of Naruto's life — albeit he didn't know it was the end, no one ever does —he spent his time trying to make as minimal amount of eye contact with the Hokage as possible.

He'd ensure that the only times he'd ever really look at the other man, shamelessly and fearlessly, was when no one else was around, and Naruto was preoccupied. This usually meant waiting a few seconds before entering his office to report on a mission, pausing at the door before he left. He used to consider himself so lucky, to even get a chance to look at him so candidly.

"It's freeing actually"

She snorted with a sound that reminded him of Sakura and quickly finished her bottle of sake with a messy swig, "You know, I really did not intend for things to end this way. I had planned to curse you out and tell you to never speak to my kids ever again — " Sasuke laughed at that "and I was gonna be really cruel, but I don't think I got it in me. No matter how hard I try to be mean and unempathetic—"

"That's not a word"

"For now it is. Anyways, you're welcome Sas'ke"

And they both paused the moment it slipped out. It almost had him floating to the ceiling, because somehow, she had managed to say it perfectly, in the exact way he used to have it roll off his tongue. It threw him into a loud, drunk fit of laughter..

"I promise" Hinata breathed as they began to calm down, "If we could see the words we've used the most in our lives 'Sas'ke' would probably be in his top three"

"That and —"

"Dattebayo!" they exclaimed in unison, throwing themselves into another fit of laughter. Sasuke could see his friend screaming this as they fought behind his closed eyes.

"God, we really should've been friends a long time ago" Hinata breathed after they began to calm down

"I realize now that I've been avoiding you like a disease Hinata, I don't think we were meant to be friends"

"That's true," she sighed and considered pouring herself another glass of sake, "Naruto would've loved if we were friends"

She gave in right when Sasuke responded, "Who knows what Naruto would've loved. For a man who spoke so much he died such a mystery"

She considers this for a moment, and she catches sight of a card for one of the hospital's psychiatrists pinned to their bulletin board. It makes her smile.

"You know, in the beginning, being married to him felt like this impossible challenge I could never win" Sasuke seemed to be slowly dozing off but perked up as she began to speak, " I'd wake up at the most ridiculous times in the morning to cook him breakfast, and each time he'd wake up and act surprised like I hadn't done it the day before."

"And then when he'd leave for work I'd clean the house from top to bottom before I went on my own missions, but not before I packed an extra lunch to 'surprise' him with when we crossed paths. Then I'd wait for him as we walked home so we could walk home together and I'd silently listen as he rambled about his day"

She looked over to Sasuke whose face amusingly read, That's a lot of work

"It was exhausting," she confirmed

She found herself so incredibly terrified that if she didn't fill him up with her love at all moments of the day he'd run away the minute she relaxed. She'd stand in front of the mirror practicing the ways she could be as perfect as possible, as meek and as forgiving as the woman he had first met so long ago. She would only talk about him to their friends, and she'd only talk about the things he'd do, and how positively happy she was.

She'd ask them about all the things she could do to make him happier because with the amount of things she tried to fit into a day, she ran out of ideas fast. She'd ignore the ways they'd roll their eyes.

Because Naruto was as kind as he'd always been, and she loved seeing him come back home to her, and yet she felt something lingering behind her telling her she could not let up. That she had to do more, and love more, and be more. It was ridiculously annoying, until one day Kiba burst and asked:

"Do you even have the time to like him in between all your stressing out?"

She wondered if the constant performance of perfection was the love she wanted. Her love had been constant giving and giving no matter what it did to her. But she hated it, it came to the point where every morning, and throughout her day, and as she waited for him to return she began to resent him.

She could feel it creeping up her body like the hundreds of legs of a swarm centipedes. It was ugly and uncomfortable, and she couldn't understand what she was doing wrong. How much more did she have to devote herself for it to become love?

Then Boruto was born.

She found herself breathing and eating and living just to look into her child's eyes and know he was safe. And the feeling felt familiar, and it didn't feel as new as motherhood was meant to feel, but then she looked at her husband one day and considered how strange it was that she had named her son so similarly after him.

She fell into a cold darkness she could barely comprehend; even holding her son felt repulsive and wrong. She stayed listless in their bed for weeks, crying and unable to even look at either of them. There was a vast crevice her soul was falling through, and she found herself crashing against the walls of rock in her descent. She saw a light that faded further and further away from her, and she prayed, not to reach it, but to simply escape the agony, even if that meant death.

How pitiful she didn't even recognize herself. How could she have ever loved him? How could he have ever loved her?

Who would she be without the grandiose love she had for him, and who would he be to her if not this child she took care of.

And so for weeks she stayed there, breaking and breaking apart. Not once, not even for a moment, did Naruto complain. He was deeply and terribly concerned this was true, but he quietly cleaned their home, fed their child, bathed her when she wouldn't bathe herself, and kissed her goodnight every night.

Finally, when Sakura basically carried her to the hospital's psychiatrists did she discover that she was dealing with some kind of postpartum depression. The psychiatrist recommended all kinds of medication that she refused but before she left he noted:

"You know, I never thought I'd see a Hokage cry as hard as I've seen Naruto cry in this office"

"What?" She paused at the doorway on her way out. There was a crowd of women sitting in the chairs outside the doctor's door. Their eyes seemed hollow, and the people that hurried past seemed unaware and unaffected by their presence, as if they didn't take up any space. There were so many of them, Hinata wondered if she screamed, whether they'd scream with her. Her throat felt hoarse just thinking about it.

"You didn't know? Practically everyday he's in here sobbing that oh she's going to die and I don't know what to do! It's practically suffocating reassuring him all the time that what you're going through is very common," he was a lot more bored by the conversation than he was letting on, preoccupied by retrieving an unidentified bottle that had rolled under his desk.

She chose to ignore his comment that her suffering was 'common' and shut the door behind her, "He's been here?"

"Yes, he's been trying to figure out how to help you get better and he practically tears my head off when I tell him to just let you come around on your own. You know you should try talking to him, before he burns my office down that is" he finished with a satisfied sigh, the bottle returned to his desk and his entire composure disheveled.

When she eventually returned home that day, she found him knocked out on their couch, Boruto slumbering on his chest, and it took everything in her not to break down then and there.

She loved him, she really did love him and it was killing her in horrible, rancid ways. She had tried to arrive at an answer that was satisfactory on her walk back home, but nothing felt right. She was exhausted and certain she had reached her limits.

So she sat down at their kitchen table and waited for Naruto to eventually wake up, being careful not to startle Boruto awake. At the sight of her outside their bedroom he almost failed, considering he immediately leaped to his feet, it was a surprise that their son didn't wake up.

She guessed that meant he was a heavy sleeper, and she realized that even though he was now six months old, this was something new she had discovered about her child. For six months she didn't know how her own son slept.

Nonetheless, Naruto carefully approached the table with Boruto cradled in his arms as if she was a wild animal. He was clearly trying to tread carefully and it was almost upsetting her even more, but she reminded herself that he was trying, and that he was doing the best he could do.

"Hello" he began, as soon as he sat at the table

"Hi" She mumbled, and it reminded herself of who she was when she was twelve, "I went to see the psychiatrist, Sakura dragged me really"

"Oh, I didn't notice, I think I've been asleep this entire time" there was an awkward pause in which he added, "That's good though, right?"

She considered the question and chose not to answer. Mainly because she wasn't sure, there was too much going on her head but not enough to give her a coherent sentence to respond with. She just wanted it all to end.

"What do you like about me?" is what she settled with.

"What do you mean? I like everything about you" Boruto coo-ed slightly in his arms as he replied.

"I don't like everything about you so I know that's a lie, what do you like about me Naruto" she was losing all her patience, it was leaking out of her pores like gas as every second passed.

Maybe it was her hair, her eyes and their innocence, the boys used to make lude comments about her breasts and maybe that was what drew him in. She was beautiful and appeared like a child, maybe she made him feel bigger than he already was.

"I really do like everything about you Hinata" he finally mumbled out.

"I want a divorce" she managed out, and as she expected, he simply blinked in response. There seemed to be very little that shocked Naruto as a grown man. Pitifully, even then, she wished she excited him more.

"Do you not love me anymore?"

"No, I do"

"...Do you not like me anymore?"

"I don't know, I think I do"

"Are you unhappy?"

"Yes"

Then a moment of silence.

"Well, ok then, if that's what you want"

It wasn't what she wanted, even though he checked in with her everyday for a week afterwards and she told him it was, it really wasn't. Finally, after a month of tense air, she confirmed that she didn't want to separate, and his face was unreadable. She wondered for the rest of their marriage whether he was relieved or disappointed, but by the time Himawari was born, she no longer cared.

They fell into each other out of circumstance and responsibility. Out of misunderstanding and cowardice, they found themselves married and indebted to each other. It was a supposedly loveless marriage that bore her two children, that granted her security, that kept her warm when she was cold, that had fallen into almost robotic routine, and always seemed too fragile to ever address head on.

She stopped making him breakfast, so he made his own. She stopped surprising him with food, so he'd invite her to meet him for lunch. She'd stop organizing outings with the family, so he did it himself. Naruto stayed, and when he held her she swore she saw the afterlife, every time.

She couldn't decide if it was a good one, the marriage that they had. They were kind to each other where kindness was required, she couldn't imagine anyone else she wanted to raise her children with, and when he smiled at her, she felt needed. She wondered if that fit the criteria, despite it all.

Sasuke told her the story of the first time he'd seen Naruto after he'd abandoned the village. The feeling that rushed over him was inexplicable and when they looked at each other, for the first time in three years that felt like infinity, he was born again. For a while, after he'd defeated Naruto in the Valley of the End, he'd concluded that it was unnecessary to kill him.

As long as he focused on his goals, as long as Naruto stayed away, they both could live.

Then that idiot burst into his life again and the world slowed. Instantly, the power Naruto held over him returned to remind him that he was merely an actor in Naruto's world. Everything Sasuke was and everything he ever wanted to be was intertwined within the ethereal boy who stood below him.

He was a fool for ever believing that whatever they were was something he could escape. Their bodies were made of crushed little stars, their lives formed a constellation, their love guided the lost into being found.

Hinata listened and realized just how embarrassing it was to be in love. She wondered if that's what she sounded like to all their friends and she hid the shiver that ran down her spine. She didn't know a lot about Sasuke, even after their endless conversation, but she found herself grateful that he was the man Naruto had loved, and that it was him whom she shared this curious, humiliating history with.

There were an endless amount of questions left unanswered between them, many they would probably never be able to answer. But there they were, explaining to each other the inexplicable, and she figured that, for now, that could be enough.

Maybe she did love Naruto, maybe it was ok that she didn't know completely. But one thing was for certain:

She really did miss him terribly, and Sasuke understood this.

Sasuke left with a solemn, wordless bow then swiftly turned away to disappear into what was soon becoming sunrise over the village.

Long after he was gone, she stood still at the doorway, afraid to shut it. The daybreak was beautiful, and the warmth it brought reminded her that somehow a new day had begun. Despite the fact that Naruto had died, and she was to raise their children alone, and even though she would crawl into an empty bed for the remainder of her life, there it was, the sun.

She wanted to relish in what she felt like was a miracle, even though it was certainly only the mundane process of time. But it felt particularly new and incredibly personal then. What lay behind her was this large home he would never return to, completely stuck in a time of grief and, well, all her life she had always been told how physically small she was.

Fascinatingly enough, when she shut the door, the light from the sun still peeked through their thin curtains and illuminated the dusty furniture within. If she blinked, the ghost of him lay sprawled loudly napping on the couch, or leaned on the kitchen counter as he drank bitter coffee and watched the sunrise, or ran right past her, disappearing out the door in a rush to get to his office.

Against her will, her hand reached up and out, lazily attempting to grasp something she knew wasn't there. Sure enough, the mirage faded as quickly as it formed and she sighed, bitter. She wondered when the taste of lemons would leave her mouth, she wondered why that wasn't mentioned as a part of the grieving.

No one mentioned how ridiculously difficult it became to clean an empty home, or to wash dishes and cups that would no longer be used. What did it mean to prepare a plate for someone who you could never dine with again? Was it delusion? Was it grief? Could it be something like hope?

"Hey Naruto?" She called to the empty nothingness of her home, "Promise me you'll be there?"

Naturally, no one replied, so Hinata burst into guttural sobs, just as naturally.

Maybe so she could get it all over with and then the kids wouldn't see her during the burial, maybe so it didn't morph into something monstrous due to her neglect, or maybe, simply, because she had felt something incredibly sweet and summery for her husband, and he was now gone.

Maybe it could just be that simple. She could just be a widow, solemnly grieving. Maybe it didn't have to all be so convoluted, maybe, just maybe, she could be ok, even if she was crying, even if the sun did rise and he was no longer there to see it.

Sasuke held Sarada's hand the day of the funeral. Sakura held her own hands together tightly, so tightly that he could see the white in her palms from the pressure. He figured it best not to try and disturb whatever ritual she was using to keep herself together. Sarada had just as an intense of a grip on his own hand and he didn't realize just how comforting it was until she let go on their way home. Sakura had stayed behind to help put away the funeral arrangements, she didn't contest Sasuke's offer to walk Sarada home.

It was probably wrong how ridiculously awkward it was to be around his own child. He managed a glance at her as they walked silently and for some reason it shocked him just how grown she was. To think there were parts of her that were made of parts of him. Suddenly, she stopped walking and Sasuke stopped in his own tracks to turn around and face her.

The sun was setting, the last of the sunlight was reflecting off her glasses.

"I love you Dad" she announced, similar to the way Sakura announced when dinner was ready, practically exasperated.

"Oh," that was a stupid response, he concluded, he could do better, "Thank you"

"You're welcome," and he became disturbed by how matter-of-fact she was for a twelve year old, "I figured you should know, because I've never said it before and your best friend died so I just wanted to let you know that I still love you"

He blinked, taken aback, and wondered if parenthood was just constantly being in a state of surprise, but he didn't move from where he was standing. Her declaration felt off, it felt undeserved, "I haven't been very good to you Sarada, do you even know what love is?"

"No," she curtly replied and began walking again, her fingers interlocking with his hand when she reached him, "But you're my dad, and I still get excited when you come home, so I think that's love"

"It really isn't"

"Can't you just say it back?" she whined and looked up at him.

It terrified him, there was a fear he had never felt before creeping up from the soles of his feet and everything in him was telling him to run. Was this supposed to be another chance of some kind?

There were too many parts of her that screamed of a history he wasn't ready to face. He really didn't have enough energy to deal with the disappointment that came with messing things up again. But there'd once been a surge of emotions he'd kept at bay and before he could ever let them out, Naruto had died.

Sarada was right there and she was holding his hand and she still loved him, even if she didn't really know what it was. It hurt to try, he knew this, but he felt like he'd be a fool to deny himself a love that could fit safely in the palm of his hand.

Breathe in then breathe out Sasuke.

Ah.

That's how it went.

"I love you," he whispered back, and it surprised her for one solitary second before she nodded and led them to continue walking home.

For a moment, he swore he saw Naruto leaning against the banister of a shop they passed by. For a moment, he was alive.

"Hey Sasuke" Naruto whispered into the dark, testing to see if the face lying in front of him was truly as peacefully asleep as it seemed. As soon as he was certain that Sasuke wouldn't randomly awaken to pummel Naruto for disturbing his peace, the blonde genin shifted closer to bury his head under the others chin, positioning himself so he was cradled under Sasuke's arm as well, their feet lightly intertwined.

He wasn't cold, and he wasn't all that sure why he had done it, but he could feel a tug in the centre of his chest that told him he'd be safe there, cradled between his arms. They weren't in any particular danger, tucked away in a large pocket of shade in the forest the team was camping in; Kakashi had informed them that they were closer to untouched land than people.

But still.

still.

He wanted to be closer, that's all he could understand. In fact, as he felt their breaths slowly begin to match each other, and as he became attuned to the sound of Sasuke's heartbeat, he was certain that he was home. He wasn't really good with words, and in fact he was certain there weren't any words that could possibly be right for the flurry of light that was erupting in him, nothing could describe what he wanted from their closeness. But he figured it wouldn't matter, he'd deny it ever happened in the morning anyways; they'd go back to their familiar routine of arguing despite this seemingly random moment of sincerity.

But then, much later, after he grew and loved more than he thought he could, he found himself falling asleep once again, the terrifying reality that it wasn't likely he'd ever wake up again closing in on him, and the words, he could feel them, they danced around his dizzying mind.

They made him smile as his eyes slowly closed for the last time, and he thought of something like "inseparable", of something like "infinite".