(DISCLAIMER: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters.)

Chapter 5

"If I pick it up when I know that it's broken, do I put it back?

Or do I head out on to the lonesome track and let you go?"

Humility (feat. George Benson) - Gorillaz

A nuisance, indeed.

Sasuke adjusted the slumbering Hyuuga against his shoulder for what felt like the millionth time.

He often forgot about his handicap, the left arm lost during his final battle with Naruto. Most days he barely gave it a passing thought. Tonight, though, all he could think about was that damn arm.

He truly hadn't seen this coming. When he had approached Hinata, for once it was with only pure intentions.

The girl had stumbled past him, not even noticing that he had been posted on a branch - minding his own business - just a few feet away from herself. Though, he wasn't as surprised by her actions after getting a closer look; the girl obviously hadn't eaten in days.

The last time he had seen the Hyuuga had been over a week before. At the time, he had followed her in the rain, not sure of what he was hoping to achieve other than feeling like a complete stalker. Sasuke had quickly changed his mind, one of many uncharacteristic choices made as of late, and turned back.

Regardless, Hinata had not looked nearly so famished on that rainy day.

He then remembered the rations he had taken from the hideout. A pang had shot through his chest suddenly, guilt - but he pushed it down as best he could as he followed her slowly through the trees.

Sasuke hadn't been sure what to do, honestly. She obviously needed help, but would she accept it? Was she even coherent?

She had begun to slow down, barely even lifting her feet off the ground as she reached out to support herself against a tree. His feet carried him forward, and he could feel his arm lift, though he didn't remember telling it to do so. That, too, had become an unwelcome trend.

Sasuke was so distracted by his own actions that he hadn't even registered the Hyuuga's movement until it slapped him in the face - literally.

The rogue had been hit several times, by several people, in several different ways; in fact, he prided himself in his extensive combat history. Never in his lifetime of confrontations had Sasuke been taken completely by surprise. Never had an opponent caused a stir in his very soul with one hit.

Not even Naruto had ever hit him with such force.

Sasuke watched in silent awe as Hinata lost her wits in front of him, giggling and muttering nonsense that he couldn't even begin to understand.

He felt the stinging sensation on his cheek; it wasn't particularly painful, but it still lingered like a third-degree burn.

"Boop."

Sasuke jumped then, against his own will; again?!

Twice, twice in a row this girl shocked him to the core. Was she actually shocking him? He felt the stinging sensation take hold of his nose - he wanted to sneeze.

Then, a third surprise when the kunoichi passed out completely. Once again, his body moved without thought and caught her before she could hit the ground.

Sasuke blinked. He looked down at the girl leaning against his body awkwardly, completely unconscious.

…What just happened?

He was still asking himself that question as he carried Hinata through the woods hours later, backtracking to his hideout.

Luckily, the girl hadn't strayed too far from the building in her delirious state; she seemed to be going in circles for days, anyway. Nevertheless, Sasuke was annoyed.

He barely even knew this girl, really. Sure, he had technically grown up with her, but neither had ever paid any attention to the other's existence beyond their time at the academy.

Well, the Uchiha had noticed her a few times - but it was simply in passing. After all, when every other girl nipped at his heels consistently throughout his early life, it would be difficult not to notice the one that didn't.

Admittedly, Sasuke had a silent respect for the girl back in the Leaf Village. It was nice being ignored by someone, for a change.

Yet, here they were, closer than ever before and still just as much strangers.

Sasuke found himself recounting the past few months, wondering just how the hell he ended up in this situation.

Obviously, she was not following him, as he had previously assumed. In fact, it seemed she was trying her hardest to stay away from him.

He couldn't blame her, he had been doing the same. Mostly.

The Uchiha once again wondered what was happening. Why was it so damn difficult to just stay away?

He furrowed his brow, feeling a headache coming on. On top of that, his cheek was still burning. She must have channeled some chakra into that slap, he decided. There was no way he would still be feeling it, otherwise.

But did she even have enough chakra left for that in her state…?

Sasuke shook his head, clearing the good point out of his mind. There was no other explanation.

He looked down at the slumbering girl in his arm - she looked even worse than the last time he had seen her. The bags under her eyes had somehow grown even more prominent, and her skin was a sickly pale color. Sasuke could see beads of sweat collecting on her forehead. He ignored the pang of worry that shot through him, not even sure what it was, and focused on his journey.

He picked up the pace, though he didn't notice. Or decided to ignore it.

Soon, Sasuke saw his destination peek through the foliage. He also noticed a presence, and for once was relieved to see a head of red hair shuffling ahead of him.

"Oi."

The red-head jumped and spun around with wide eyes. One would have thought he saw Kami himself as a smile lit up the young man's face, "Sasuke!"

The smile waned as he took in the sickly girl being carried by the rogue, "W-Who is that?"

"Have you brought more supplies?" Sasuke asked, ignoring the man's question.

The writer blinked, "Umm, yes, I did…but-"

Sasuke brushed past the red-head, effectively stopping the man from continuing that train of thought.

He heard the light shuffle of feet behind him as the man caught up, and he chose to ignore the eyes boring into the back of his head.

Large, brown eyes nervously shifted back and forth as the shinobi carried an unconscious woman into his old home. The boy was unsure what to do in this situation. Really, he was unsure of what to do in most any situation - but this particular moment was quite something.

He had been making his usual trek to the half-abandoned cottage, arms full of meals that he had spent much more time preparing than he would ever admit, when the rogue ninja caught his attention.

On a normal day, the sight of this man would have made the young traveler anxious - but seeing a clearly famished woman dangling from his arms just about caused him to pass out. He didn't, though. If only to save himself the embarrassment.

Now, as he stood awkwardly in the corner of his former home, the red-head wracked his brain for something to say. "U-Um.."

"Bring me a wet cloth," the ninja demanded, ignoring whatever it was the boy was planning to say. Not that he had really thought of anything in the first place.

Not wanting to anger the obviously dangerous man, the writer scurried off to the kitchen area. He grabbed the cleanest garment he could find and did as he was told, his anxiety growing by the second as he sensed the other man's impatience.

As he watched the mysterious shinobi place the cloth on the equally mysterious woman's forehead, the young man grew curious.

He had no idea what life this rogue ninja led, but he had always assumed it was a lonely one. In fact, not once during their encounters had there ever been anyone by the man's side. And if his attitude toward me says anything, he's not too keen toward strangers…

So, the writer concluded silently, they must have some history.

He held back a frown at that thought.

Though he would never, ever admit it to the ninja in front of him, the boy had grown quite fond of their brief encounters. Well, even before they officially met, he had developed a silent admiration for the man. Well, silent on the outside.

Inside of his mind, and his many filled pages, his feelings were shouted from the rooftops.

He knew better than to let them stray any further, though. If his many days watching the last Uchiha had taught him anything, it was that he was not one to bother with unnecessary thoughts and feelings - and the writer knew that his would definitely be considered unnecessary.

A sigh escaped him as he forced his eyes away from the scene in front of him; his grandfather had always said jealousy would only bring forth the wrath of the gods, in the end. He wasn't sure if he believed that, but he did not enjoy the feeling, nonetheless.

Trying his best to ignore the feeling growing in his chest, the red-head moved to restock the cabinets with fresh rations.

Besides, it didn't matter his feelings for the ninja; there was no way they would be reciprocated. Not that he would even have the courage to let those feelings be known.

It wasn't that he was ashamed of his feelings for the other male - his grandfather had taught him better than that. He was well aware of the stigma surrounding his sexuality, but he had learned at an early age that those who judged him for it were not worth giving a second thought. The young man may not have been the most confident, but who he chose to love had no weight on his self-consciousness whatsoever.

However, that didn't mean the thought of voicing his true feelings to the man across the room didn't make him want to vomit.

Rejection was something he had much experience with, and usually he could bounce back with a fair amount of ease. He would write a sad poem or two, spend a few days in bed, and then move on.

Yet, he knew that this particular rejection would hit him much harder than the rest.

After all, he had never truly felt this way before.

Those before the rogue were mere infatuations, if he were to be truthful to himself. This, though, was different. It had been different from the first moment he laid eyes on the beautiful man.

He had stayed far away at first, sensing the danger that radiated from the Uchiha even from such a distance. Regardless of that danger, the writer had found himself spellbound as he watched Sasuke go about his business.

Whether he was training all alone, taking care of local baddies, or just relaxing in a tree somewhere - the rogue was always astounding.

To this day, the writer was immensely proud of himself for remaining conscious after their first fateful encounter. Though he was sure his face had been as red as the tomatoes that he had come to learn were one of the Uchiha's favorite foods of all.

Sighing quietly, the red-head tried to shake away the thoughts of the man who was right behind him. Seeing the almost unnoticeable look of worry painted on his face, it was obvious the ninja had some sort of feelings for the girl, whether he would admit it or not. No use in dreaming about something that's impossible…

"U-uh," the young man started, willing himself not to blush when the ninja finally met his eyes, "I restocked the cabinets for you, so…"

Sasuke merely nodded stiffly, turning his attention back to the unconscious girl. The writer tried not to be disappointed at his lack of interest.

Taking that as his cue, the young man gathered his things and headed for the door. He hesitated before stepping through the threshold, looking over his shoulder at the man that unknowingly held his heart in calloused hands.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then decided there was nothing more to say; at least, nothing that the other man would care to hear.

Sighing once more, the red-head left quietly.

Sasuke let out his own sigh once the boy left him alone with Hinata, though his was of pure frustration.

He had half a mind to just wake the girl up, tell her where the food was - as if she didn't already know - and then be on his merry way. Better yet, just leave her to figure out what had happened all on her own. Yes, he could just leave and let the annoyance stew in her confusion - at least she would get a mediocre meal out of it all.

He could; but he wouldn't - and that pissed him off.

Sasuke leaned back in his rickety chair and glared at the unconscious woman, aware of the irony of the situation. Last time he had been in this situation, for some idiotic reason, he had wanted nothing more than to stay until she woke. Now, his body was screaming at him to leave.

Once again, though, he chose to ignore his instincts as he remained seated, glaring.

For about the thousandth time since he had come into contact with the Hyuuga heiress, Sasuke asked himself how he had gotten himself into this situation. Of course, there was still no answer.

He had thought about it from just about every logical perspective, and still, it made no sense.

Coincidences could only go so far, and this shit had passed that point weeks ago.

Feeling his features harden even further, Sasuke kept his eyes trained on Hinata's closed eyes. How could she be so oblivious? How could she, with her all-seeing eyes, manage to worm her way into his life without being aware of it herself?

As much as he still wanted to accuse her of doing all this on purpose, even he had to admit that also made no sense. Unless she took joy in making herself lose her mind; which, he mused, could be the case, actually.

If he remembered correctly, this girl was the one that had followed Naruto around like a lost puppy when they were younger. It was obvious to anyone with a brain that the girl had immense feelings for the idiot - but, of course, the blonde did not have a brain and therefore, had no clue about her feelings.

Regardless, she had seemingly remained loyal throughout the years.

Sasuke may have been absent for most of their teenage years, but the few times he did witness their dynamic, it seemed to have not changed much.

He smirked then; yes, it was very possible that this girl was a masochist.

A slight groan from the girl in question shook him from his musings, and suddenly that feeling that had been lingering in the pit of his stomach lurched.

Hinata felt like death. She briefly wondered if she had, in fact, died at some point. However she was sure death would not feel quite so terrible as her current state.

Her head was pounding, her breathing ragged, and she felt simultaneously burning hot and freezing cold. She shivered.

She tried to open her eyes, but the pounding in her head caused her to squeeze them shut once again. She felt delirious. Not sure where she was, or what had led her to become unconscious in the first place.

An image of shocked, black eyes flashed in her mind. She could just barely remember encountering him, yet she couldn't make out whether it was real or not. Her mind swam, and she let out a groan.

She thought she heard a sigh, maybe a huff, by her side. Tired eyes tried to open once more, but her vision was blurred. Turning her head toward the faint sound, Hinata decided she must be hallucinating after all.

She could barely make out a face and a head of black hair above her. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, to no avail. Her head continued to pound, and she thought the face looked etched with worry.

Yes, she was definitely hallucinating.

The face disappeared suddenly, as if confirming its non-existence. She closed her eyes once more, willing her body to sleep so that she could escape the awful feeling crawling under her skin.

She had barely dozed off when she felt a gentle hand raise her head up slightly. She let out another groan, the movement causing her head to pound even harder.

"Get over it."

Hinata mused dazedly that her imagination was becoming much more developed after having been alone so long; his voice sounded so real, and just as grumpy.

Her eyes inched open slightly, only to see a glass of water in front of her face. Without a second thought, Hinata opened her mouth to allow it to be brought to her chapped lips. She gulped the imaginary water down in a hurry, suddenly feeling just how dehydrated she was.

Her eyes slid shut immediately after, and she succumbed to a deep sleep once again.

Time continued on like this for the sickly Hyuuga, though she had no way of determining how long it had even been. She slept, she dreamt, and always, he was there.

Her dreams, or hallucinations, remained achingly realistic. Yet, she knew none of it could be real. He was too attentive, too caring, too much, altogether.

Once, she opened her eyes to see him dozing next to her, head resting on the couch she found herself on - as if he had been watching over her until his own need for rest took over. She had reached out weakly, and for a moment, she was sure she felt a piece of his raven hair that sprawled out against the cushions.

Whatever sickness had taken ahold of her, it sure was playing games with her mind.

Yet, as hazey time went by, and her head began to clear, he remained.

Eventually, she opened her eyes, and knew that she was, in fact, back in that "abandoned" cottage. And there he was, across the room, wringing out a damp towel over the sink. She watched his back as he moved about, unaware that she had awoken. She absentmindedly observed him, noting that his lack of appendage didn't seem to hinder him in the slightest.

Of course, with her mind now cleared and the pounding behind her eyes reduced to a dull ache, Hinata had to admit to herself that he was no dream. Still, she didn't quite have the energy to unpack what that meant. That he, Sasuke Uchiha, had been taking care of her - essentially, nursing her back to health.

She was still watching him with lazy eyes as he turned back to her with the newly soaked cloth in hand. He froze then, eyes locking with hers, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't. Possibly, he had.

After a moment, he cleared his throat slightly, squaring his back and coming to sit on the chair he had been occupying for however long they had been there.

"You're awake."

Choosing not to speak due to the ache in her dry throat, Hinata gave a characteristically Sasuke-like response, "Hn."

He did not respond, but he did place the wet cloth on her forehead. Something she could only assume he had done several times before while she slept.

They locked eyes once more, neither speaking - for their own reasons.

Hinata's mind raced. She was so confused, yet oddly calm. She assumed it was the sickness still getting to her. That did not explain his actions, however.

Why was he doing this? Did he not hate her? How had he even found her?

A memory flashed through her mind then, and if she had the strength, she would have lifted a palm to her face in embarrassment.

She...slapped Sasuke.

Hinata had no clue what had gotten into her, though she supposed her current state had something to do with such a miscalculated action.

This confused the Hyuuga even more, though. Why on Earth would he take care of her after she had done such a thing? Surely he had been furious. He was the great Sasuke Uchiha, no one raised a hand to him without repercussions.

Yet, here he was, looking at her with no anger in his features. In fact, Hinata could detect the smallest hint of worry still lacing his dark eyes. Worry? For her? She had to close her eyes again, suddenly feeling a twist in her gut.

"You need to eat."

Her eyes opened again to see his retreating figure, watching with utter confusion as he grabbed a container of rations and brought it over to her.

Her confusion continued to bubble as he slid his arm behind her, lifting her slightly against the arm of the old couch.

Okay, maybe she was hallucinating after all. This was just too much to believe.

He set the food on her lap, taking his place in the chair next to her once more.

Instead of digging in, though, Hinata continued to stare at the Uchiha next to her. Her eyes continued to search, looking for any sign that this was all a trick. Some grand illusion that her sick mind had conjured up as she lay dying in the woods.

He merely stared back, almost apathetically.

Moments passed. She still didn't understand.

Sasuke sighed then, raising a brow at her, "I'm not going to feed you, if that's what you're waiting for."

She flushed as he looked away indignantly, realizing again that Sasuke was, indeed, really sitting there. Really helping her.

Her aching stomach shifted her attention away from the peculiar situation, and she decided to just focus on eating her meal instead of the confusion that was eating away at her.

Meanwhile, Sasuke was struggling.

It was one thing to be around the heiress when she was unconscious, but now he had no idea how to act.

He was well-aware of how odd his actions had been the past few days. In fact, he was still kicking himself for not leaving when he had the chance. Yet, he couldn't quite bring himself to regret it all as he watched Hinata feast next to him.

The Uchiha would never admit it to anyone, especially himself, but he had been worried.

The severity of her illness had become apparent after the red-head's departure days prior, when a cold sweat had formed on Hinata's brow and a chill took hold of her slumbering form. He hadn't been sure what to do, and a small part of him had wished the writer had stayed, if only to lend a helping hand (in a quite literal sense).

However, a strange instinct had taken over soon enough, and Sasuke found himself doting on the woman without thought. Every time a pained groan escaped her lips, or a shiver went down her spine, or a blurry eye opened to look at him dazely, he sprang to action.

As he had sat there, watching her sickly form throughout long nights, the face of his own mother had plagued his thoughts. He vaguely wondered if he had retained some of the memories of her taking care of him as a child, when he would fall ill from time to time. He tried not to think too much of that, though.

Now, as he was no longer the only lucid one in the room, awkwardness took hold of him. Another feeling was there, too. Embarrassment? Shame? Confusion?

He wasn't quite sure; but he couldn't shake it, nevertheless.

A small clearing of the throat brought him out of his reverie. He looked up to see that the Hyuuga had finished her meal, and was looking at him with a slight flush to her cheeks. He silently noted the color returning to her once sickly pale skin, and he chose to ignore the relief that caused his shoulders to relax slightly.

"T-Thank you," she croaked, her throat still dry from dehydration.

Instead of replying, Sasuke simply handed her the glass of water he had kept nearby.

She took it from his hand gratefully, slightly brushing her fingers across his own.

There was that shock again. Sasuke furrowed his brow slightly.

If there was one thing he had admitted to himself during the past few days, it was that this woman had no chakra left in her frail body when he had found her in the woods. Yet, he knew he had not imagined the stinging sensation that had lingered well after her hand had collided with his cheek.

Even now, though he was sure her chakra had begun to flow once again after days of rest, he knew she hadn't channeled any into her still-trembling fingers. He watched closely as she drank from the glass he had given her, the glass that he had brought to her lips himself not long before this moment.

That feeling pooled in his gut once again, but he still couldn't identify it.

Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to be somewhere, anywhere but that cottage.

Standing quickly, Sasuke made a move toward the door.

A weak grip on the edge of his shirt caused him to stop short. That feeling swirled dangerously in his stomach.

He turned, and was a bit shocked at Hinata's expression. She looked...terrified. He realized suddenly that she thought he was leaving her, for good; and maybe he had been.

"I'll be back soon," he muttered, not meeting her large eyes. He couldn't bare them any longer.

Her grip loosened, and he headed out the door.

As soon as his foot hit the grass, Sasuke leapt as fast and far as he could. He needed to breathe.

What had gotten into him? He found himself asking that so often these days, it was beginning to lose its meaning.

Never before had he felt so out of control, not even when he was under Orochimaru's influence as a child. Even then, he was able to hold on to his goals, his ideals, his intentions. Now? He had no clue what he was doing, or why he was doing it.

He barely knew this girl, yet he had dedicated days nursing her back to health. Not for any other reason than to quell his own anxiety - and guilt. Yet, seeing her now, awake and well, his anxiety only grew.

Who was she to make him feel this way? Who was she to cause him such distress? No, he corrected himself, he was not distressed. He would never allow anyone, let alone a random woman from his former home, to make him feel so weak.

As he leapt through the trees, Sasuke reminded himself that he had no obligation to the heiress. Especially now, after helping her recover from her illness. He had done more than was necessary of him, so why go back?

He could simply keep moving forward, without a glance behind him. He could forget the days he had spent by her side. He could run as far as possible, knowing that she would never make it so far in her state. He would never have to see her again. Would never have to worry about their coincidental run-ins or heated interactions.

Yes, he had no reason whatsoever to return to that woman.

His tread slowed until he had stopped completely, staring ahead with a hard expression.

His mind had been set, his intentions clear.

His chest, however, felt a tug.

Sasuke looked down at his feet, willing them to move forward. They remained still.

That feeling weighed down on him hard, as if it had grown heavier with every step he had taken.

Closing his eyes, Sasuke silently cursed himself, and turned back.