Konoha's still night knew peace no more when reverberating sirens rang throughout the village. It cut through the air like knives, shaking the window panes of apartments and was loud enough to beat against your eardrum like a parade right outside your room. Civilians and children weren't advised to evacuate just yet — they were forced to sit inside their homes and lay low as all of the ninjas in the village suited up and prepared for a battle inside their own village, a monster under their own bed.
The last time this happened, the Kyuubi attacked.
As the full moon shone high above the dark blue curtain that hung from their clouds, a little girl sat still against the windowpane, squinting against the fogging glass, trying to use the moonlight to guide her sight through the murky darkness outside.
Men and women with their forehead protectors gleaming in the light raced across the roofs and yelled inaudible orders at one another.
Two voices suddenly chimed in behind her, filling in the empty words that were leaving the mouths of the shinobi outside. Their whispers were rising steadily in volume despite the younger man trying to keep a calm facade. She twisted her body and stared at the open door, trailing to the path of gold from the artificial light where those two figures stood: locked in disagreement.
The younger man's eyebrows furrowed, marring that beautiful face of his and squaring his shoulders back, and attempting to make him look much older than he was despite barely peeking past his preteen years. His tall height barely gave him an advantage against the ninja in front of him, and his fingers still moved nimbly against the white vest he hastily threw on: loading his pockets with spare kunai and shuriken against the man's orders.
The older ninja in front of him shook his head and ordered the teenager to stop, holding out both of his hands in an easy surrendering pose, but even the little girl knew that if her older brother was going to make a run for it the older man put his hands up like that to easily stop him.
"The Hokage told me to give you explicit orders that you are not allowed to join this — and stop trying to pack!" The senbon that the ninja had between his teeth gleamed like a strobe light as the man moved his mouth up and down, catching the nightlight that they had installed in a small outlet in their hallway.
"This is a village-wide alarm. All shinobi in Konoha are supposed to report for duty." He was nearly a decade younger than the man in front of him, but he spoke as if the roles were switched and the taller man was the child: slow and chiding, no doubt grinding on his nerves like the teeth against the metal. With that, the dark-haired teen stood up straight and placed the bandage wraps back on the small shelf beside him. Ruby red eyes looked at the man straight in the eye, reflecting the shine of the senbon against those clear gems. "Last time I checked, that includes me too."
"Look." The mystery man held up his hands again. "I don't get it either, but that's what the Hokage said. This is a big emergency, stop trying to take it so lightly!" The man huffed at the stubbornness displayed before him. "What if this involves you too, huh?"
He strapped on his pouches and fastened the forehead protector against his bicep. "More reason to go. Now step aside, Genma-senpai."
"I mean, what if you're the one in danger here, huh?" Genma gestured his hands helplessly up the stairs, following their sight to where Hari was unabashedly eavesdropping on their conversation from her own bedroom. "Think of your sister for god's sake! Think about her safety too!"
And those words that spilled so easily from the teen's mouth earlier suddenly became inaudible. She didn't hear anything after that, and mere moments later Genma pushed the door behind him and herded the teenager back into the living room.
The sirens still continued to ring, but the presence of the other ninjas were long gone, all whisked away to the west side of the village where the Uchiha Compound always stood so formidably like a fortress. After assuring that the boy wouldn't take a step outside the house, Genma too disappeared in a blur of color, leaving no trace of him behind. Her eyes settled on the still figure on their run-down couch, staying so motionless that she could even forget that he was an actual person for a second.
They sat like that for a while, all as the sirens rang and rang and rang like a fluttering flame.
As she looked outside the window for the final time that night, a masked man stared right back.
But on the outside of their house, through those swirling red eyes of his, for the life of him when he looked into the window in front of him — there were no people on the inside.
No trace of Hanasaki Rin and Hari.
The last descendants of the Uchiha clan.
The reincarnation of Tom Marvolo Riddle and Harry James Potter.
And he can look for years, and years, and years, but as long as they were behind those walls, he would never find them.
Is anyone else alive?
Was a record playing in slow motion?
Hari rose in the plastic chair they sat her in, turning steadily as the boy they displayed like a prize horse walked slowly toward her, eyes wide and knees knocking against each other like she was a mirage and he was trying to stop himself from running headfirst into an illusion.
No, the Hokage had said, puffing smoke from his pipe like a defeated dragon. Not really.
The smoke curled around them and turned the vision before Sasuke's eyes into mist.
"But — "
His black hair was stark against the paleness of the hospital walls, the cool tiles, and the blinding, cheap white lights that hung above them. His eye bags were stark against paper-pale skin, and that only brought out the purple in his bruises more.
They told her that they were self-inflicted. He tried to fight off the genjutsu that Itachi put him under and instead ended up closing hi hands around his own throat and clawed at his own arms to rid of the illusionary blood that soaked through them.
His eyes were so wide that she could see herself drowning in pools of black while the little boy in front of her shook like a leaf. Hari was up on her feet now, standing in the middle of the hallway as the workers stared at her, looking at the eight-year-old girl as if she was a bull in their hospital. Arms opened up silently and in a flash of blue and black, the little boy ran into them, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist like she would disappear if he didn't hold onto her enough.
"Nee-san!" he cried out, barreling into Hari who stood upright against the impact like one of the trees that used to shadow the compound.
It's been days since the Uchiha Massacre and the village was shrouded in deep silence. Coworkers, schoolmates, and friends were all wiped off the map — taken away from everyone like they never even existed — like it was still a running joke. They would return the next day and the broken walls, the broken red-and-white fans, and the smell of blood would all just disappear.
Yet some others cheered. Those who had never liked the Uchihas — those who saw their silent and dark nature as a threat to the Will of Fire that permeated the whole village were in high spirits at the news of their deaths, acting like they were critters that had finally been terminated out of their homes.
And yet — Hari knew that some of those who mourned were silently cheering too. The arms that wound around the shaking child in front of her only tightened as she focuses on the warmth of his tears against the cotton of her shirt.
These past few months were hard on the Uchihas, burning their candle down until the flame went out completely.
They weren't real Uchihas, was the first thing that he thought of when the Third told him of his future situation.
The compound was empty now — a vast space of ghosts and blood-stained tatami —
Nii-san!
Standing over their bodies with his sword.
Can you help me practice my shuriken throwing today? He remembered asking once, peering into his brot — Itachi's battle-worn eyes and the weariness on his face that caused his wrinkles to develop so soon. The white that started to develop in his hair at thirteen became only more prominent under the moonlight.
He stood over him, his ANBU jacket speckled with blood like a tiger on the prowl.
I can't today, Sasuke. And a poke on his forehead followed.
Dead. Dismembered. Pained faces and bodies painted on the floor from the bloodstains that just won't fucKING go away!
And a part of him still hoped — still dreamed that if he ran back there now, past the body lines, past the caution tape, past the abandoned animals, maybe if he ran across his house into the backyard — Itachi would still be there. Sitting, peacefully as the sun started to set across Konoha, bathing everything in a warm gold as birds swooped to and from trees while cheering in a song that only they can sing and the cicadas would ring. He would be enjoying one of his small hobbies. A plate of dango would be right next to him.
In this dream, Itachi would turn. And reveal empty, bleeding eye sockets right back at him.
He couldn't go back there.
Lord Third gave him an option.
He could stay in his compound and live alone with the ghosts that would haunt him, or he could live with these two complete strangers.
Strangers, but they were of Uchiha ancestry.
Just barely.
The Hokage gave him their names, Hanasaki Rin and Hari, and they were more closely related to Shisui-nii than him. The siblings' maternal grandfather was a full-blood Uchiha born with a defect that said he would never be able to get the Sharingan no matter how much he ran his body into dangerous situations, experienced all of the trauma life would throw him, or even if he faced the end of the world. This was disgraceful for a member who was so closely related to the head of the family, and so when he was able to grow up, get married, and move out of the compound that ridiculed him for so long, he ended up taking his civilian wife's last name and they had a daughter. The sibling's mother who had died several years back due to falling into a deep depression over the death of her Chunin-level husband.
Orphans, he thought, now just like him.
Their grandfather had one sister and one brother that they knew of: Uchiha Kagami and Uchiha Haruhi.
They were only one-fourth Uchiha, but as the Hokage told him, aside from him that was all of the Uchiha blood Konoha had left.
And so he decided that he would move in with them, to see if they were actually like the Uchihas he used to know; or if they shared the same traits as Shisui, the cousin that he loved until a week or two ago.
They discharged him from the hospital in three days and they told him that Hari, the younger sister, would be the one picking him up.
He walked past the double doors — and suddenly it was like he was walking past his memory's hallways, silent, creeping — looking at the ghosts of the family members he once knew.
And — She looked so much like an Uchiha.
He could see the Shisui in her, from the roundness of her face to the brush of long, dark lashes on the edge of her rounded and large eyes. When she stood, her wild, long black curls shifted and pointed in every direction, and her messy bangs drooped lowly over the brightest green eyes he has ever seen.
They weren't all dead, and he felt his body grow hot like a volcano about to erupt before the corners of his vision started to blur with water.
They watched each other then, a standoff in the middle of the hospital's hallway before she opened up her arms and stared at him without a word.
His legs moved without thinking, and before he knew it he was crashing into her, arms woven around her waist like he was a little baby again.
He could've sworn right before the bright lights above eclipsed her figure and before his vision blurred completely that maybe one of his cousins was standing there. His aunts. The nice ladies that ran the dango stand, the tea shop — that he wasn't alone anymore.
"Nee-san!"
Then he saw her. Just Hanasaki Hari.
He pressed his face into her cardigan and cried.
"I'm here now," she finally said, a hand falling comfortably on the back of his head. "We're together."
Not an It's okay. Don't worry. Everything's going to be alright. And not a mortifying Don't cry anymore.
She understood.
The hospital employees politely turned away as his bawling became louder, but her comforting presence never faltered. He wasn't even feeling ashamed like how he would've before the massacre.
This was the first time he had cried due to feeling relief.
When the Hokage first came to the two of them with the proposition of taking in Sasuke, they both refused.
"We are honored by your humble offer to take in the last of Konoha's Uchiha clan, but I will decline your offer due to personal reasons and a lack of resources," Rin said to the left of her.
Hari let out a breath of air she was holding in, head tilting so slightly that her hair spilled over the edge of one shoulder.
It was like the Hokage aged three times overnight. Deep wrinkles setting on top of previous ones dug deep into his skin and emphasized his eye bags until he looked like he was going to shrivel up in the sun. Nearly half of Konoha's forces — gone like that overnight. She couldn't imagine the turmoil he was going through, trying to rebuild his army and keeping the rest of the clans assured that they were going to be safe.
It was like she could feel a civil war bubble underneath her fingertips.
He let out a cloud of smoke from his pipe, coating his desk with grey as he let out a resigned sigh. She held in the urge to cough or brush away the puff of tobacco that tickled her nose uncomfortably.
"Finances will be no issue if you decide to take Sasuke-kun in," his voice low, gentle like a grandfather, but raspy like the chain-smoking that he's done for so many years. Dark eyes bore into Rin's own red ones, unwavering despite the warm personality he was attempting to have, shadowed by the wide brim of his hat. "The village will cover all food expenses, your bills, and possibly anything else you will need to assist in the childhood development of Sasuke-kun."
"Hokage-sama," he said once again, that smile on his face making him look like a prince in a novel rather than a trained killer. "We are grateful for your enthusiasm to support us, but we feel that Sasuke-kun would not be comfortable enough in our home. We only have three bedrooms, after all — "
One for him. One for her. And the one that used to belong to their parents.
"I see no issue with this," the old man said easily. "You can move into your parent's larger room and — "
"I will not be touching my parent's room, Lord Third."
The room that they had yet to clean up after the death of their mother.
Rin slipped into informal speech, Hari thought, holding back her surprise and slight horror. It was as if he was the leader here, and the Hokage was nothing but an old man on the street with too many opinions for his frail body. The Jounin Commander behind the Hokage even had his eyebrow quirked up at Rin's blatant rudeness.
"I'll be completely honest with you, Hokage-sama…" he started off, not backing down in the face of authority. Emerald green eyes fluttered off to the side then, looking at the warm, light wood of the desk to the sun-bleached panels of the windows behind them. She could sense all of the ANBU that were stationed from here. Shikaku-san standing behind the Hokage. Two on the roof. Three inside. Four hidden outside the office walls.
They haven't enforced the security for him, she thought. Despite this being such an unstable time for village safety.
"I have no interest in taking in Uchiha Sasuke," Rin finished firmly. Hari straightened up then, rolling on the balls of her feet for a second before falling back in line with her brother and they both kept their soul-searching gaze on the Hokage.
She wondered how they looked then. A skinny, but unnaturally handsome boy standing upright in the middle of the Hokage's office while a little girl stood beside him, her posture loose and eyes wandering throughout.
Yet, even she knew that the aura that exuded from them could change the temperature of an entire room.
It was not even a day after the Uchiha Massacre and it was like the entire village was underwater. They were deep in pressure and shock, so heavy against the village they couldn't even breathe.
Just as the sun settled comfortably in the morning sky, she deemed it safe enough to finally leave their house only to be stopped by an ANBU with a message that stated the Hokage requested their presence.
Their.
Rin made sense, he was a Jounin and he was always outstanding. Top of his class and charismatic enough to talk you to your own death. But Hari thought she had done so well with keeping under the radar.
Did he know?
Did he know that they escaped a death that was meant for them too?
Do Hari and Rin mourn for them?
All of this only for them to meet with the Hokage and have him ask them to take in the last Uchiha like he was a puppy alongside a rainy street.
Their Uchiha heritage was not a secret, but no one cared enough for mere quarter Uchihas when Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Shusi dominated the attention of everyone. No one bothered enough to know that they were part of the family too.
And now they suddenly were Uchiha, right when it was convenient.
"Please elaborate," the old man said in front of them when Rin turned down his offer once again. He had dropped his gentle nature like an anvil at this point, and Hari knew that he had gotten to his wit's end with Rin's stubbornness. Her older brother always got what he wanted. She knew that for sure.
"We are fine on our own, Hokage-sama." Rin's tone was biting, full of venom. It was as if he was speaking to a common man and not his leader. "We do not need your assistance in living, but we do not require Uchiha's presence to live more comfortably either."
"Is that so?" He turned his eyes to the only female in the room then, her wide eyes becoming like a deer in the headlights once the leader of her village placed all of his attention on her. "Hari-chan, what do you think?"
She quirked her eyebrow up. She wasn't amazing like her brother, nor the head of the house, or contributing to their funds. She had no say in Rin's final decision, so why did he think that her opinion would do any good?
"We are not Uchiha," she finally settled on saying, her voice light with her years, but even she could see the Hokage's eyes tighten ever so slightly at the steel in her voice. Hari decided to hold her tongue then, keeping off the sharp comments she had about the situation.
"I agree with my older brother," she eventually said, shoulders falling under the tension in the room, confidence in her tone dropping.
Her own eyes narrowed. Why is he trying so hard? What does he get from keeping Uchiha Sasuke with them?
"I see…" Another puff of smoke. "I respect your decision."
The two of them exhaled, finally glad to be done with this charade.
"However, Rin-kun…"
The Hokage wasn't talking to him as if he was a grandfather anymore — the tension in the room became so tense that she could feel it. Every ANBU tensing their muscles underneath thick layers of cotton and the stretch of leather as they flexed their arms or clenched their muscles, she could feel the air suffocating her. She looked up at her brother, looking fresher than a spring day underneath the commanding stare of the Hokage. But she's been with him long enough to be able to notice that one vein in his neck and the strain on his jaw.
Sarutobi's voice was like an oil spill.
"In any case, since you do have Uchiha blood…" At that moment she knew why this old man was still controlling the village. "Maybe it would be best for you to be taken off active duty until this situation calms down. I would even recommend resting at home so that you have ample time to mourn your distant relatives." He gave them a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Might I suggest several months?" He placed that damned pipe back between his teeth and stared at them straight on. "Once you leave this room, I'll be sure to tell the desk shinobi of your situation."
Two pairs of eyes flashed with anger, turning their shades into acid green and fire red, respectfully.
He's trying to purposefully starve us!
Disbelief fell upon the siblings like a lighting strike at that moment — the two of them flicking their gaze toward one another to catch their mirroring expressions, but the Hokage's face did not waver with malice or remorse. He kept as serene as a lake's untouched surface.
But to his hidden surprise, they didn't turn to him with equal looks of shock and worry — instead they turned that vicious expression toward him with righteous fury burning underneath the blazing gems they called eyes, eyebrows furrowed and scowls settled down on their lips.
They depended on Rin's income as a lifeline.
Ever since he had become a shinobi and joined the village's ranks, the two of them were removed from the Orphan Fund and started to live off entirely what Rin earned from his missions.
Even from the gracious Orphan Fund that the two of them received from the second of their mother's death, they only received a flat amount of 5,000 Ryo per month, some wheat, milk, and oil. Produce and meat were not included, and they were only occasionally given non-perishable foods when several stores around the village had excess. This often came in the form of instant ramen noodles, canned meats, or the occasional cereals and seasoning.
They were considered lucky. If their mom had died any sooner, their Fund wouldn't even exist. In the Third Great Ninja War, orphans had just starved.
Orphans only received the Fund if they were no longer wards under the orphanage and on the track to becoming either a ninja or an apprentice to some kind of civilian craft. Once they managed to graduate or started to make and sell products on their own, they would get a small portion of their paycheck taken away in both taxes to repay the money that they borrowed from the village. If none of the either happened by the time they turned fifteen, they would be taken off the list automatically and left to fend for themselves.
Most of the time the money the children received went to rent or to their master, but after their parents had died, Rin managed to convince the workers at the bank to let them keep their house with his smooth words and gentle pressure. Although they went without rent on the mind, the two of them struggled unsurprisingly.
The two of them were no strangers to starvation, even in their past lives and Hari bet that the support she received would be legions above the care that the Dursley's gave her. They were even considered living in luxury compared to the other children. Yet, she found Rin's appetite to grow steadily with his chakra coils the more he trained as a ninja, and the both of them discovered that the piling funds that went toward scrolls, kunai, and standard ninja-grade attire piled up like an avalanche. The second Rin had graduated at the age of seven, he was taken off the Fund and decided that Hari would be taken off too so that she wouldn't have to pay back so much debt once she graduated.
The first year where he was Genin then Chuunin was tough, living off even smaller rations but ever since he made Jounin the two of them were able to live comfortably for the first time since their parents' death.
But even that one year where they lived off entirely on ramen noodles and poorly made bread would be better than nothing at all. If the Hokage decided to take Rin off active duty for several months, their money would dwindle down to nothing.
They might have been able to transfigure flour to eggs, but they wouldn't be able to conjure up food from nothingness.
He was trying to threaten them into taking in Sasuke.
"I hope that we're at an understanding, Hari-chan, Rin-kun." The Hokage laced his fingers together and leaned closer on top of his desk. His cold expression was unwavering in the face of two furious beings.
It reminded them of another old man that used them before, all white hair and blue twinkling eyes behind half-moon spectacles.
"Unless you're willing to reconsider," he finally said.
"Man…" Shikaku exhaled, sauntering up to the Hokage's side, propping his hip up against the edge of the desk. The two of them stared in silence at the back of the door the Hanasaki siblings just slipped through, their faces running from fury to soothing apathy once they finally decided to give in to the Hokage's demands, plunging the office in quiet. "What intense kids." He closed his eyes and sighed so deeply it was like he was going to fall dead asleep right then and there.
He was sure glad that his own son was as expressive as a baby panda, unlike the lions in a cage that these two were.
Sarutobi hummed and let his eyes fall on the files in front of him, the small, childish faces of the two siblings staring back at them before his eyes fell on Rin's files. "You seem to be the only person in the village that is the most familiar with them."
Shikaku had to physically hold back a snort at that, arms crossed and he inclined his head toward the Hokage in apology.
"I wouldn't know any better. Rin hasn't spoken to me since his Chuunin exams years ago." His voice was distant, still as hard-edged as any other, but there was no hiding the twinge of regret that laced his tone.
The irony was that he had gotten closer to Hari than his own student. When Rin was still a student underneath Shikaku's teachings — all fake smiles and a starvation for knowledge — Hari was merely two years old and brought her to every team meeting he had.
He had thought he looked so innocent then, even with his suspicions. He had just taken one look at this fresh-faced seven-year-old boy and the makeshift baby wrap he had around his chest and doubted his own judgement. Maybe he was growing soft.
The look in her eyes when she landed on him showed that she still recognized him though, and from what his own son said, occasionally she greeted him on the street if they ever crossed paths.
Maybe this wasn't a complete loss.
"Though it doesn't make any sense." The taller man sighed again and scratched his scalp, ruffling the spiky ponytail on top of his head. "If Sasuke didn't want to stay in the compound you could've just gotten him an apartment."
No need to threaten those two into keeping him, went unsaid.
Nara Shikaku did not have pride, but he was aware of his own intelligence. But the Hokage was still a man he wasn't able to figure out. He's been playing the shinobi game for longer than the years Shikaku had lived, and every move he made for the village would sometimes evade him.
Sarutobi's attachment to Danzo was one he just couldn't wrap his head around, for example.
His near neglect of Uzumaki Naruto was just barely pushing it.
"Hanasaki Rin has proven himself to be an extremely promising shinobi," the Hokage spoke, his eyes shaded by the wide brim of his hat. "His taijutsu is a bit lacking in comparison to the rest of his talents, but his intelligence and ninjutsu could beat even that of Uchiha Itachi."
The Nara hummed. He should've known that better than anyone, despite their falling out five years ago.
Ever since their first meeting, he couldn't help but think that this boy was bad news. His expression was always soft, relaxed, but there was an edge to the corner of his lips and to the upturn of his eyes that told the older man that the teenager in front of him was malicious.
In this world where children were soldiers and the older ninja were gods, Shikaku should've overlooked it. But in that moment when Rin came to him after winning his battle with his own teammate, stress snapped within Shikaku like a rubber band. His uniform was splattered in blood, but his hair and face pristine as if he had taken a walk in a park, Tsume's nephew was broken under his hands despite spending so many hours training together, protecting one another on missions — all done without remorse, that teasing shade of apple red seemed more dangerous than the sword that the boy had strapped to his back.
Where was that Will of Fire Shikaku tried so hard to instill in his, admittedly, favorite student?
Uchiha Itachi was haunted by the world they lived in.
But Hanasaki Rin reveled in it.
"What is wrong with you, Rin?!" he remembered shouting at the little boy years ago.
"I heard that he was turned away from ANBU despite passing the exam with a full score," Shikaku mentioned off-handedly.
"Hm." The Hokage reached for a brush and a scroll from underneath his desk. "It was a bit of an issue then, but they finally decided that he was not loyal enough to Konoha or to me."
And Shikaku was sure that that fact hurt Lord Third like a bee sting. As good of a shinobi he was, he was becoming a senile old man who depended on the Will of Fire to burn brightly through all of the village children.
It was a shame that Hanasaki seemed to care about no one but himself.
"Though his sister has made a name for herself for being extremely kind and generous," Sarutobi started, mentally following the Nara's train of thought.
A black-haired girl exited the hospital with a smaller boy trailing her like a shadow.
The man sighed good-naturedly, a small smile falling on his lips. Lord Third still remained sharp as a whip to keep up with one of the smartest men in Konoha.
He hoped that maybe Rin was just a product of wartime. That his young kid sister wouldn't have the same haunted eyes and that Hanasaki Rin's lack of empathy would just be one white rose among a field of red. He mentally knew that there would be nothing he could do about these kids, but it was still disappointing to work so hard only for the future generations to still struggle just as much as they did.
"Really now," was all he said.
What used to be cautious and wary looks toward the Uchiha clan had now turned into expressions of pity. It was nothing but a sea of tear-rimmed eyes, soft frowns, and open mouths. Stands that used to turn away anyone who bore the Uchiha name now were gently calling them over, offering some of their fresh wares.
The Hokage nodded and hummed.
"Ah! Hari-chan! Would you like some apples? I know how much your brother likes them! They just came in fresh from Grass village. This is probably the best they're going to get all season."
She opened her mouth to speak but no audio came to his ears.
"Oh! No, no! Don't worry about price at all! This is on us! Take as many as you want."
"She has paid for Naruto-kun's groceries every time she comes across him in the marketplace and is seen feeding the homeless population frequently. She even visits the orphanage to keep some of the children company whenever she has free time. The Will of Fire burns through her brightly."
You've suffered enough, went unsaid.
The Hokage finished up with the message before capping the ink bottle and rolling up the scroll. When he held out the message in thin air and said: "To the hospital," the scroll in his hands disappeared with a blink of an eye.
Shikaku's eyes narrowed then.
The Hokage did not want Sasuke to live with his distant cousins so that he could get protection under Hanasaki Rin.
Sasuke watched as she walked down the stone steps toward the residential district. The sun was high above their heads, with rays so bright it seemed as if he could reach forward and push them away like silk curtains.
She remained several steps in front of him, hair swaying and curls bouncing every time she made a single step.
Without a word, she turned her head up to the sun, her cheeks burning a soft pink while her closed eyelids reflected light upon the lashes that kissed her cheeks. She held the apple up to her lips, freshly washed with the dew of the morning still clinging on.
The apple almost looked black in her hands.
She pressed her lips into an O and he watched as she blew those droplets away, splashing molten gold across the air.
The Hokage hoped that Hari's good nature would keep Sasuke from turning against the village.