A/N: Feedback is really appreciated! Since my hiatus the SasuHina fan-base seems much quieter :( ...


Chapter Six, Serendipity.


When Hinata finally said it, it was over breakfast one morning,

Gaara did not need a love. He had repeated to himself – a chant, a prayer, a lie. He had spent his entire life solitary. He had seen unimaginable beauty and power, but nothing had ever tempted him for long.

Now, watching the sun creep across the sky, painting it the colours of dawn, he found his mind wandering down its usual twisted path and ending at the same destination – a contemplation of her, in all her ethereal, lavender and ivory spun grace.

Hinata was lovely; that almost went without saying. He was drawn to her like a careless moth to an inferno, and stranger yet he never objected. Her appearance may have caught him, but it was the distorted crystal of her mind that bound him. The childlike purity veiling one of the sharpest minds he had ever encountered.

Her lips – fuller than the moon – parted and:

"I can't do this anymore,"


The only real deviation from his usual routine that morning was a certain kunoichi leaning on his desk and her bratty boyfriend looming next to the window, peering out.

When Kakashi finally had the grace to appear, none of his subordinates looked up to condemn him. They continued their menial tasks as he crossed the room. His mismatched eyes beheld the scene in front of him with careful scrutiny and a touch of fondness. For a private and introverted shinobi like Kakashi, he often saw unwelcomed guests in his office and opted to disappear for the day. Never showing up. Especially ones who were loud, abrasive and stubborn. However, the blonde and the cherry blossom happened to be the only two people in existence who he tolerated invading his personal space and pestering him. In fact, some even speculated he encouraged their tormenting.

Sakura was dressed for the hospital and bore light dark circles under her eyes which signalled to Kakashi she had just finished her nightshift. With her long pink hair caught in a loose pony and her fringe framing her forest-hued eyes, it struck him not for the first time how much she resembled her old sempai, Tsunade. Clasped in her hands was an orange notebook, his cheek twitch with indignation as he recognised it.

"Chocolate or strawberry?" Sakura smiled, her lips closed.

"I'd rather not-" Kakashi started, scowling at the notebook in her hands.

"Chocolate please," Naruto answered, his eyes never leaving whatever he was spying on.

Kakashi took a seat next to Sakura and fetched out his own book, which was an oddity in itself. The Hokage usually liked to keep a considerable but pleasant distance from others, and seldom read his preferred genre of literature in front of others since he was appointed Hokage. Something about setting an example for the younger generation, Tsunade warned.

"I think I'll go with the catering company Chōji used for his birthday," Sakura mused. "So that's all the official ceremony planned," she smiled, looking up to beam at the grey-haired nin. "So what about the afterparty?"

Kakashi expertly ignored, pretended to be engrossed in his book.

"Kaka-sensei?" Sakura pressed, moving closer to him, ignoring his scowl at the word sensei. She sat down the notebook on his desk and circled in.

Kakashi took a deep breath, sorry his routine of necessary self-loathing and reading depraved and licentious material had been interrupted by his favourite medic.

"I've so many ideas for the décor, the theme and the venue," her voice was high and dainty, it cut through the silence like the sound of shattering glass. Despite the marks of tiredness eclipsing her face, excitement bubbled through. Her smile was almost infectious. Almost. "I think we should-"

"Sakura," he accosted. Kakashi had no intention of being in Konoha for the anniversary of his inauguration, never mind allowing Sakura to plan a national holiday and parade him around. But the medic nin was recalcitrant and intractable, ignoring his wishes for the last three weeks. On Sunday, she had showed up to his house with ten different samples of fabric for the new yukata he was supposedly getting. Sakura wanted Team 7 in complementing colours, or something.

She was too used to getting her own way with the three men in her life. If he wanted to stop her, he would have to think of another way. "If Sasuke saw us three together he might get a little jealous. Maybe you and Naruto should run along and find him…Get his input on things."

"Sasuke wouldn't care-"

"I feel uncomfortable discussing this without Sasuke present." Kakashi shrugged, before returning his attention back to his book.

Sakura's smile withered on her lips, like a flower in autumn. Her hand snapped forward to grip his Icha Icha. She knew exactly what game Kakashi was playing. Sasuke was away on an S ranked mission, no one knew when he would be back. "Stop playing games and-"

"Don't you have a hospital to run?"

"I think the theme for the afterparty should be 'shinobi of the past' and as for the venue, what do you think about-"

"Not without Sasuke's input-"

"Oh, there's Sasuke!" Naruto exclaimed. His loud outburst caused Sakura and Kakashi to snap up and look at him gesturing madly at the window. "Kakashi how do I open this damned window?" Naruto growled, his hands fumbling with the clasp before he threw the glass open and leaned out. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Sasuke! Sasuke! Teme! We're up here in Kaka-sensei's office! We're discussing the inauguration afterparty, Sakura wants the theme-"

Gloved fingers enclosed around the blonde's mouth. Kakashi pried the squawking blonde from the window and moved in front. His mismatched eyes scanned the cityscape for a moment before he found the dark figure Naruto had been yelling at. A dull glow emitted from his sole crimson eye making the other one look even darker and murkier.

Sasuke stood in the middle of a bustling street below, clad in Anbu attire. With his mask still attached to his face, it was impossible to read his expression. However, it was clear the blonde and the Hokage had piqued his interest.

How is he home already? Kakashi wondered peering down at arguably his least favourite protégé. Naruto encompassed the word irritating and had no respect for personal boundaries, while Sakura was refractory and rather needy. However, it was the crimson-eyed Uchiha's plights which always seemed to take up nearly all Kakashi's time and focus. He almost felt sorry for Sakura and Naruto, his attention – though unwarrantedly – was usually directed at Sasuke. It was no wonder they were so attention-seeking with him. Thankfully, Sasuke hadn't got himself into any trouble or misdemeanours recently.

Naruto struggled from Kakashi's grip and elbowed him in the waist in an effort to make Kakashi release his mouth. The blonde slipped from the Hokage's clutches and moved toward the window once more. "Sasuke-"

"Naruto!" Sakura hissed, batting him out of the way to get a good view of their illusive dark-haired teammate. She raised her fingers to beckon him.

The Anbu's form looked tense and poised, his arms hanging at his side. Only a Uchiha could make the act of waiting for a strike of ambush look so casual. The porcelain weasel mask glinted as the sun peeked through the clouds overhead. While Naruto's voice was loud and abrasive, only Sasuke pinpointed the source of the yell's location. Passersby heard also but were still standing dumbly scanning the skyline. The sight of an Anbu captain halted in a crowded street and looking intently upwards was beginning to cause a commotion.

A moment of silence passed before Naruto and Sakura felt the weight of their sensei lift them and send them skidding across the room. Instinctively, Naruto's arm shot out to steady Sakura. Green met blue for the briefest second before they turned their eyes back to their assailant.

"That wasn't very nice," his tone wasn't friendly.

"You were causing a scene." Kakashi's tone dropped to a slow, refined and challenging tenor.

Naruto stiffened. "It wasn't me, it was Sakura's idea-"

"Naruto!" Sakura blanched, appalled at her teammate's feeble attempt to blame her.

"What's going on here?" A new voice inquired. Their tone was lilting and sanguine smooth but carried an air of aggravation for the increasingly tense exchange unfolding in front of him. The Anbu captain stood beside the open window, the breeze catching the ends of his hair.

"We were just waiting for you, Sasuke," Kakashi mentioned, before moving to take his place behind the mahogany desk. His mismatched eyes never left Naruto or Sakura.

"Why?" An iciness laced the Uchiha's tone as he glared at his two teammates. He leaned against the window frame with his arms folded in front of his chest. The splatters of

Naruto shifted uneasily beneath his rival's accusatory glower. The blonde had never been good at keeping secrets. In fact, he hated secrets, especially kept from his loved ones. Naruto peeked at his old mentor quickly, before returning Sasuke's gaze. Despite Kakashi's perpetually aloof and lazy manner, there was very little his contrasting eyes missed.

"Look, Sasuke-"

Sakura stepped forward, her grip on Naruto's arm tightened to a point several seams in the fabric ripped and splintered. Her willowy form looked even smaller pressed against Naruto's broad and muscular one. Her green eyed darkened, as her face turned to lock Naruto's eyes.

Naruto faltered, looking defeated. He couldn't deny Sakura anything, and she knew that. "Sakura and I don't think you should bother going to Kakashi inauguration anniversary, half the Kages still hate you. And last year you nearly killed Sai for joking with you."

Kakashi bristled at the last comment. The infamous trio in front of him had grown up under his sometimes uncareful and indifferent tutelage. He knew them better than anyone else. Apart from themselves. Despite his proximity with the trio, there was a multiplex macrocosm between them that he was not privy to. The nexus of that universe would always be each other, despite the problematic and convoluted relations they shared. He was simply an observer of their dynamic, and at times a mentor and other times, a companion.

There was very clearly something going on between the trio. He had suspected it for over a week. Of course, it was conspicuous Naruto letting their secrets slip. Despite his unparallel physical shinobi abilities, stealth and discretion was something he lacked.

"You can deactivate your Sharingan, Sasuke," Kakashi noted, disliking how it permeated the room with a nefarious aura. The kind of aura which coated the air, making it hard to swallow. "I told you he would get jealous."

Sakura stared at the Hokage, she couldn't fathom what was residing in the deep clashing pools of crimson and grey. But it was clear whatever was being hidden from Kakashi, was now on his radar.

Silence took hold of the office, save for Sakura's hurried breaths. The scarlet light behind Sasuke's mask faded eventually. The Uchiha moved forward, to lean against the front of Kakashi's desk so he was facing his teammates. Gloved fingers worked to unclasp him porcelain mask methodically, before he hung it on his belt.

There was a small but deep laceration across his right cheek. It looked unsightly against the perfect alabaster complexion. Sasuke could feel Sakura staring at it, and his lack of protest was enough approval she needed.

His eyelids shut as the warm, tingling and familiar feeling of Sakura's chakra encompassed him. Soothing and nursing away any aches he had been feeling prior.

"Your chakra levels are delipidated," she said softly.

"Aa," the Uchiha returned. His eyes were still closed, with his long eyelashes made little crescent moon shadows on his cheeks.

"You've been exerting yourself," Kakashi commented, however he did not look up from the scroll he was reading. "You should rest. You are no use to anyone injured."

"Aa," Sasuke replied again, his eyes fluttering open. Sakura tried, but she could not decipher the emotion pinned to his full lips and blank eyes. She took a step away, to appraise him again. But if the comment irritated him, he never showed.

How was going to be a father? was all she could think taking in his haunting appearance. Every inch of him was a killer. There was nothing friendly - never mind paternal – about him. He was all hard edges, grudges and scathing words. Even his home with its lofty ceilings and minimal décor, was an untouched mausoleum to a forgotten and stolen past. A constant remainder who and what he was. An Uchiha. The most cursed clan there was.

It was the decisive clink of the door which tore Sakura from her musings. A small figure slipped in, dressed solely in deep mauve to complement her natural colouring.

"Oh," was all they murmured, taking in the scene in front of them. It was a lot more than they bargained for: the entirety of Team 7. She had planned to avoid one of its members today. But the Uchiha seemed to be everywhere she turned lately.

Something akin to hurt or confusion flickered across the bottomless white pools of her eyes as she took in the intimate position of the Uchiha and medic nin.

Kakashi looked up from his scroll to rest his face in his palms. There was amusement brimming in his eyes, and something else that unnerved Hinata. She felt as though someone had poured ice water in her veins. Suspicion and calculated curiosity ebbed and flowed in those lazy yet all-knowing eyes of his. "What a surprise," Kakashi allured innocently. As though he hadn't been aware of her presence the moment she entered the building.

"Hinata!" Naruto threw his arms around her, pressing his cheek to hers for the briefest moment before he stepped back. "Wow, you look different! Your outfit!"

Silence rode through the room, making the air thick and heady with intensity.

Hinata looked down to hide the red-rose blush which danced across her cheeks. She hated blushing. She hated losing composure. But comments on her appearance was one facet of conversation she had a hard time remaining the composed regal Anbu she had become.

Since her promotion to clan head, Hinata donned traditional clan robes or yukatas with the Hyuuga insignia stitched on her back. Today she was wearing a casual, plum and lavender yukata. It hung just above her knees, revealing her legs – a fact that seemed to distract all members of Team 7 for a moment. It wasn't like Hinata to wear dresses – never mind short ones. Naruto bristled, taking a further step back from the Hyuuga, for his own safety. He could feel the slow burn of the Uchiha's gaze.

"I didn't realise you were busy," Hinata said as calmly as possible, somewhat pleased with strength of her voice. "I shall come back at a later time." Hinata bowed, and a small smile bloomed across her doll-like features.

"I'm not busy," Sasuke answered.

Hinata ran a small pale hand through her hair to distract her from reacting to Sasuke's comment. Holding in her breath, she braced herself for three sets of curious eyes. But no one blinked at the comment. Only Sakura looked momentarily affronted by the Uchiha's brashness.

"No need," Kakashi interjected, his voice was smooth and relaxed. He leaned back, interlocking his fingers in front of his gloved mouth. "I have a busy few weeks ahead, so I won't have time for a reschedule. Please proceed."

She smiled faintly. Kakashi noted her eyes didn't really focus on him, but rather the duo to his left.

In that moment Hinata, physically anyway, did not resemble a kunoichi. In her summery yukata, with her long hair falling around her shoulders in amethyst tendrils, she looked harmless. Those white eyes, as expressionless as a searchlight in the dark; taking in everything but giving away nothing. She was every inch a Hyuuga as her more angular and stern looking clansmen. It was the moment you forgot exactly who and what she was that gained her the advantage. She looked harmless.

"Well," Hinata started, all to aware of the weight of everyone's eyes in the room on her. "Since my assumption to clan head, I wanted to extend a cordial invitation to my first Hyuuga and Hokage meeting as Hyuuga leader."

Kakashi arched an eyebrow. "Yes, Naruto informed me recently. Congratulations Hyuuga-sama. I wish you and your family prosperity and security." His tone was playful and pleasant and evoked a small smile from her and the barest whisper of a pink stain on her cheeks.

"Thank you, Hokage-sama,"

"What about a suitor, eh?" Mischief flashed across his mismatched eyes. "Isn't it still Hyuuga shibboleth for the clan head to be married?"


"You're not leaving without buying a round," Sakura pointed out. As she spoke, her blonde boyfriend peeked over her shoulder, nodding to every word she said with drunken conviction.

"But I don't want another round," Sasuke answered honestly. His tone, lazy and unamused, matched his relaxed slouch.

"That's superfluous. You owe us a round." The kunoichi leaned further across the bar towards him, her movements slow and predatory, like a stalking wildcat.

The bar was full tonight, and the sound of music, clinking glasses and loosening inhibitions filled the silence. The lighting was low and sombre, it made Sakura's hair look like it was on fire, dark crimson flames caressing her exposed collarbones. Smoke hung in a dim pall below the ceiling and clung to the air, lining the back of his throat.

"Exactly!" Naruto growled from behind his drunken girlfriend. The blonde had a higher alcohol tolerance than his teammates, thanks to the Kyuubi. However, Rock Lee and Kiba had challenged Naruto to a drinking contest earlier. Kiba was still currently crumpled over an awkward Tenten in the laneway behind the bar, throwing up. "You owe us," he slurred reaching for his glass of sake.

Sasuke opened his mouth to answer, just as he felt a warm body pressed against his side. Dusky eyes flickered to behold the women beside him. Her skin was pale and soft, as they pressed further and further against him. He could feel the heat of her body radiating from under her clothes.

She was so close; a single strand of her hair fell forward and brushed against his cheek. Her familiar, overpowering floral scent wafted through the air with each of her movements. Under closer inspection, he could also sense the heady aroma of sake. She, too, looked a little drunk. As if she heard his thoughts, she stumbled in her heels and reflectively her grip on his forearm and shoulder tightened. He stared absently at her painted nails.

Sasuke stood by, still and watching, something resembling a vestige of curiosity stirred within him when Ino Yamanaka pressed herself even closer.

Ino was nothing like Hinata, he found himself thinking.

The blonde stood several inches taller than the Hyuuga, and her skin was several hues darker with a peachy intone. Standing in such proximity of her was akin to being assault by a barrage of flowers, it was sickly sweet. The blonde's attire was always form-fitting, showing her midriff and her legs. Tonight, she was dressed in a scrap of red silk, which left little to the imagination. Her hair was the colour of sunlight oppose to the exact shade of lilac blossoms at dusk.

Yamanaka was loud and uncouth on missions, always trying to challenge his directions or refute his orders, doing everything to evoke anything from him. Her kekkei genkai had never impressed the Uchiha. He saw to many faults in its defence to be considered a good offense. She was always too touchy whenever she healed him, her fingers lingering too long with a look playing in the depths of her icy blue eyes he'd never seen her give anyone else. She wasn't used to being told no. No man had ever denied her anything in her life. Her eyes were weak, she saw much but understood little. She was too annoying. Too Ino.

The alcohol on his tongue abruptly tasted sour and he found himself unable to restrain himself anymore. Her body felt lean and sinewy against him, not soft and inviting. It felt wrong, like some bad imitation.

Remaining silent, the Uchiha's hands reached forward to pry her from him, before he placed her beside Sakura. He could still smell her on him, he crinkled his nose.

Ino, in her drunken stupor didn't even notice Sasuke dumping her on Sakura. Reflectively Ino's hands enclosed around her best friend. A downwards pout bloomed across her lips. "I just can't believe Shikamaru isn't here."

Sakura frowned, rubbing Ino's bare shoulders. "I know it's sad, but it can't be helped. That's a shinobi's life, ne?"

"He's probably sad too, Ino-chan," Naruto said, despondence etched into the straight lines of face. "I'm sure he begged Kakashi to let him stay here."

Sakura poked her friend's cheeks, attempting to lighten the mood. "Yes Ino-pig, don't be so selfish. Imagine how sad and lonely poor Shikamaru is? Staying with Gaara and his siblings."

Naruto chortled as he downed the rest of sake. "Nothing but a bunch of tight-assed, humourless bastards even worse than teme."

A part of Sakura worried Sasuke would strike Naruto for that comment. Verdant green eyes slid over to rest on her teammate to gauge his reaction. She stiffened, taken aback by the dark emotion that flitted swiftly across his across his face before he finally saw fit to school his features to a neutral expression, so quick that she couldn't quite catch what he was feeling at all. But it was enough to show her that there were definitely emotions running under the now blank appearance of his.

"What did you think about the necklace Shikamaru got you?" Sasuke's voice was low and subdued, almost lost in the steady drum of music and laughter. But there was a distinct burning radiating from the black depths of his eyes. Sakura swore she saw a flicker of red.

"Excuse me?" Ino paused. Using her dainty hands, she pushed herself back from the bar to fix him with an accusatory glower. Her once relaxed and drunken slouch dissipated, replaced by a tension that Sasuke didn't need his Sharingan to see. Her chakra was spiking. "Shikamaru didn't get me a necklace for my birthday."

Blinking, Naruto studied the Uchiha. The curve of rival's lips wasn't really a smile; it wasn't really anything. It unnerved the jinchuriki, there was something about the Uchiha that Naruto didn't trust or understand in that moment.

"Nara bought a silver necklace on our last Anbu mission in the land of Lightning. I just presumed it was for your birthday." Sasuke shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets before he turned on his heel to exit the scene.

He didn't particularly like Ino. In fact, he didn't think of her enough to formulate any real opinion on her. She had been a member of his Anbu units several years ago, but he rarely saw the blonde recently. Her shadow-weaving boyfriend, on the other hand, was someone Sasuke actively disliked. The Nara with his knowing and prying eyes had become an inconvenience for the Uchiha. Sasuke was inherently a private person and did not appreciate outsiders delving into his private affairs. So, Sasuke opted to return the favour to the Nara. He did not tell Ino about the necklace for her sake, but rather for his own. Uchiha's always had a penchant for revenge.

Revenge simply tastes better for a Uchiha.

He was interrupted from his musing when a small figure crashed into him, in a flurry of limbs, unruly hair and half a glass of sake.

The Uchiha stilled. Droplets of alcohol clung to the tips of his hair and hit the floor in even, soft heavy taps. His chakra surged and bubbled, if the person in front of him hadn't been so inebriated they would have smelled burning.

He was not in a forgiving mood.

Snapping his hand upward, to rid it of the astringent liquid which was rapidly drying and becoming sticky.

Containing his slight surprise and confusion, Sasuke's lips parted as he beheld his target, covered in the darkness of his imposing shadow.

"I-I'm sorry U-Uchiha-san," the girl choked between the angry, wet sobs that rippled through her body. Her tears were the same colour as her eyes, he noted.

Slender, small hands so reflective of her sister were clasped against her chest. A small mouth and soft lips, pressed into a firm, determined and fake smile, so unlike the weak and hesitant smiles of Hinata when she cried.

Hyuuga Hanabi was crying and clearly very drunk. The Uchiha tilted his head to consider the oddity of the situation.

She took an uneasy and rushed step forward, before she wobbled and stumbled back harshly.

"Hanabi?"

The briefest flicker of sobriety flashed across her gaze. It was strange that Sasuke was greeting her with no formalities. He didn't remember ever exchanging any words with her before. It was true, the only things he knew about her were from Hinata. Hanabi was a subject Hinata often discussed with him. Her worries and concerns for her younger sibling were something that haunted Hinata daily. While his eyes gave away none of his musing, it was rather amusing how much he knew about the awkward teenager in front of him.

She had night terrors at least once a month, sometimes thrice coming up to Neji's anniversary; she took honey in her tea; while her Byakugan was not as strong as Hinata's, she had awakened it earlier; she was allergic to crustaceans, oh – and she was irrevocably and unrequitedly in love with her teammate, Konohamaru.

The mousy-haired brunette stumbled forward in another attempt to sidestep the Uchiha. Strands of her hair clung to her wetted cheeks, but she didn't seem to notice in her drunken stupor.

"Don't you have someone to bring you home?" Sasuke asked softly, his gaze flickering up from the drunken teenager to scan the room. He wasn't sure who she had arrived with, it was none of his generation anyway as Hinata wasn't here. It wasn't as thought he missed her sister's appearance, more that he noticed it. He was a perceptive person, he told himself, realising Hinata was missing from the party wasn't surprising or concerning.

"N-no," the younger Hyuuga began to answer, her voice gravelly and low between her sobs. She stopped herself, swaying once more on her unsteady feet. "Why do you care? You hate everyone." Her inebriated mind had stripped her logic and reason clearly.

Sasuke paused. "Not everyone," he corrected.

Hanabi lifted her hands to wipe the tears brimming along her bottom lashes. Her small mouth was set in a hard and defiant line, as though she was desperately fighting against the tears. It was clearly the alcohol causing her to lose control of her Hyuuga stoic façade.

The Uchiha stared at her for a long moment. He was confused. A feeling he wasn't familiar with. He didn't know what to do with the drunken teenager girl who was sniffling in front of him. Her quiet cries lost in the cacophony of the people surrounding them. Crying doesn't become her. She was too rigid and disciplined, emotions contorted her face making her brittle and exposed. She looked fragile, as though she was about to shatter, like a glass full of freezing water. She was lucky the lighting of the bar was umbriferous and dusky, no one seemed to notice her – and if they did, no one seemed to care.

While the Uchiha was cold and unfeeling, he was no longer evil – at least without cause. Conflicted concern, or something close to it, slipped into his thoughts and he couldn't shake it. He hated that he felt responsible for this. It was all her older sister's fault. If only Hinata hadn't gone and made herself so interesting this would never have happened.

This mess – his nose scrunched at the mere sight of her – was his unborn child's aunt. The whole concept was too much for him to dwell on, so he reached forward and grabbed her wrist. He absently hoped she didn't mind, Hinata never seemed to.

He turned on his heel to walk back towards to the private booths at the back of the bar where he could hear Konohamaru. Hanabi stared after him, mouth agape. He seemed to expect her to follow him. So, she did. Blearily she stumbled after him. The tears clinging to her eyelashes made her vision blurry. Her chest was sore. The world seemed to whirl and bend on its axis, making everything seem unfocused and distant.

The Uchiha stopped after three steps. His plans to dump Hanabi with her peers had been foiled. Konohamaru was sitting in a private booth…with an arm slung around Moegi and his lips pressed to the skin under her ear. The red-head kunoichi blushed demurely as her hand slide further up his thigh.

Pale moonlight streamed in from the open the windows, casting an ethereal, ghostly light over the large room and its furnishings. The white curtains billowed as the breeze carried in the night-time scents of honeysuckle, jasmine and the soothing aroma of a woodburning fire.


Hinata stood in front of the mirror, staring unblinkingly at the women looking back at her. She reached forward hesitantly, before her fingers crawled to the hem of her top. Holding her breath, she pushed the material up to reveal her stomach.

There, she thought as she watched in fascination, at the glimmering chakra signature within her. Her stomach was still flat, with only the barest hint of a bump. Undetectable to all but her. Hinata's body had already begun going through changes. Her chakra levels were always low, all her energy surging to her abdomen to form the tiny fluttering being inside her. Her bust, she almost blushed, had somehow grown even larger. Nothing seemed to fit her chest anymore, so she had taken to wearing some of the clothes Kurenai had bought her for previous birthdays.

She lifted her hands upwards to stretch as she yawned. She was oh-so very tired. She smiled softly at the thought of getting into bed. Today had been long and drawn out, a constant stream of clan meetings and a perturbing encounter with the Hokage.

Hinata didn't scream when she saw the dark figure sitting on her bed. A horrible feeling of something akin to a leaden weight dropped heavy into the pit of her stomach as she processed the picture in front of her.

"You're losing your touch. I've been here awhile."

Hinata couldn't find her voice. She couldn't find the words to explain the situation before her. Uchiha Sasuke sitting in her room, on her childhood bed. What if someone saw him? What would they do?

The Uchiha sat on the edge of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest. The moonlight glowed against the pan pallor of his skin, and its moonbeams were kind to the angular lines of his face. He looked serene and wholly unaffected by the situation. As though sitting on her bed was the most natural thing in the world. Nothing seemed to ever faze him.

"Sasuke," was all she could muster.

He knew her well enough to at least predict the most possible way of how she would react. She would be thinking of why exactly he was here, what his intentions were and what he could possibly want from her.

Those thoughts caused a condescending smirk to manifest itself on his regal features, gradually darkening at the sound of thrumming heart. He was enjoying this side of her. Her stoic façade dissolving into a puddle of teeming emotion and feelings. His smirk worsened the heat rising to her cheeks.

He found the whole scenario rather amusing, he couldn't tell whether that was the sake or if he always found an agitated Hinata so entertaining.

"Relax," he murmured, his dulcet tone lacking the humour it had earlier. "I didn't come here for you. I came here for your sister."

"E-excuse me?"

His low chuckles filled the stagnant air. A small part of him wanted to leave her waiting for an explanation a little longer. The myriad of emotions flitting across her face was intriguing. "I brought your drunk sister home, she was crying. You should be thanking me." He leaned back further, as if to emphasis his nonchalant attitude.

Hinata froze. "Is she okay?"

The Uchiha watched emotionlessly as the women in front of him activated her kekkei genkai to scan for her sister. "She's fine, I just hope for her sake she doesn't remember anything." Sasuke shrugged as he crossed his arms behind his head. He was feeling rather tired now too. He hadn't slept since he arrived home from his mission.

"Thank you for bringing her home,"

"She has a crush on the village idiot. I suppose you would know what's that like."

An affronted look swept across the Hyuuga's soft features before it disappeared. It was strange, he thought she would have reacted more than that. He peered at her, his eyes bleeding red. He drank in the full vision of her, not allowing an inch of her form to go unnoticed. She looked delicate and weary, her chakra levels were considerably low. But the tiny, shimmering chakra signature nestled into her abdomen looked lively and perfect. It was draining her, sucking all her chakra and energy. Uchiha women had notoriously hard pregnancies. He couldn't even imagine how demanding an Uchiha/Hyuuga hybrid would be.

He noticed she was ignoring him. "Why weren't you at Ino's?"

Hinata's pale fingers rummaged through her drawers. She was searching for something, she didn't even look up at him. "I'm pregnant," she said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She opted to remove her attention from him, she needed to think, and it was impossible to form a sequence of coherent thoughts with him watching her so intently. Hinata had almost forgotten his uncanny ability to rest the entirety of his existence in his stare.

He paused, feeling the effects of alcohol fog his mind and vision. He felt warm despite the coolness of the room. "Aa," he nodded. Though he wasn't facing her directly, his eyes followed as she moved around the room.

"You need to leave, you can't be here." Hinata murmured as she slipped into her nightgown, trying her best to focus on anything other than the dark figure on her bed. Her small hands were balled into tight fists as she punched them softly through the holes in the white silk dress.

"I've been here before," he reminded her, willing her to look at him.

She didn't, her ivory eyes trained ahead, keeping her back to him. Hinata's trembling fingers on her nightgown gave away her shaken composure. She imagined the grin on his lips was dark, just like he was. "No, you haven't, we usually go to yours…" Her words were high and jarred, as though they were about to shatter.

A series of disconnected blurry moments floated across her vision. Her fingers knitted into the hair on the back of his neck, how warm his breath felt on her skin and the striking contrast of her colourful underwear on his alabaster silken sheets. She wondered how many times he had her pressed up against a tree during missions or cradled underneath him in dingy motel rooms, so tenderly she almost forgot what he was.

A part of her was so angry with him. This – thing – between them, whatever it was, had taken a firm hold of her life, altering it irreparably. And he seemed so unaffected by them, even now, with the new life they had created.

A thin line of liquid oozed along her white eyes and clung to her bottom lashes. She wiped it quickly with the back of her hand before he could see it. Even though it was in vain, eyes like his didn't miss a thing.

She hated him. She hated this situation he had put them both in. She couldn't rely on him. She couldn't trust him to ensure her and the baby's safety. How could he, when it was the Uchiha lineage solely that put the baby at risk? Pregnancy was supposed to be a happy time, Kurenai always told her.

"I hope our child doesn't inherit your long-term memory," he laughed.

"Please leave, Sasuke. This isn't a joke, you can't be caught here." She was pleading now, the panic bubbling up her throat and coating her words.

He couldn't tell if she was breathing in that moment, her skin was ethereally pale in the shallow cold pools of moonlight. Her full-form, eerily motionless.

"You don't remember," his voice trailed off as she moved towards the bed, her eyes downcast, never meeting his. He recalled the nebulous childhood memories, they were veiled with melancholy and tinged with longing. Moving through the Hyuuga compound, his hand in Mikoto's, staring at the strange blank eyes – they had no pupil, no colour; just blank empty nothingness. He remembered being confused, and so glad Itachi was there too, so he could ask him to explain things.

Sasuke felt the weight of Hinata on the bed, the mattress sank lower. She sat a foot from him. He could smell jasmine with barest hint of lavender. It was intoxicating. "Please leave Sasuke," she said so coldly he almost believed her.

The mere sight of her there was all the reassurance he needed, and he drank in the reassurance through the facets of her expression, watching unrelentingly. He slowly stood up, and he absorbed the reassurance of her calm, expressionless gaze locking it with his as he moved toward her.

She didn't move, only raising her eyes to look up at him as he paused in front of her. He could see the lavender flecks in the depths of her irises – they were nothing like his childhood memory. Could see each individual eyelash fluttering between blinks. Could count her breaths from the raising of her chest. Could hear the melodic thrumming of her heart beat. It was hard to ignore her, hard to ignore her figure wrapped in white silk and lace. Her small, careful hand holding her stomach. She smelled liked history, home and that flowery soap she kept in the shower. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and inhale.

Her voice soft and thick in the silence. "Sasuke,"

All that untouchable power and unwavering determination focused on her, dedicated to her.