- Pluck -
Part I
Chapter 8: Song of Regenbogen (Part II)
The clatter of plates and silverware slowly brought light to Hinata's drowsy mind. She blinked, clearing her vision, and watched the maids set breakfast on the dining table. They moved smoothly, swiftly, like the swinging dial of a clock, and Hinata was almost lulled back into slumber.
But then the storm picked up and roared outside, and the walls shuddered. She sat up in her chair, nerves fluttering with her pulse, and out of habit, she looked to her side, to the chair at her left. Sasuke's chair.
Sasuke's empty chair.
With a bow, the maids stepped back, and Kankuro and Temari began to gather food on their plates, though not with nearly as much vigor as two days before. Hinata felt as if her stomach was already full - with anxiety, most likely - but the impatient shifting behind her made her scrape some eggs and fruit on her plate. The second she placed her plate down the table, Sasuke reached over, tested her food, and upon finding it safe, placed his fork on the table and moved from her.
Despite her drowsiness, she wasn't lost to the dark, forming bag under his revealed eye. There had been a small shake to his fingers as he gripped his fork, and it didn't disappear when he rid himself of the silverware. She knew the three days of no rest were getting to him, no matter what that damn pride of his was willing to admit - and, almost, she wanted to tell him to stay, to at least eat. Food in his stomach may give him some energy.
But like he had his pride, Sasuke also had his duty. Matsuri was ready for interrogation, and he wouldn't waste another minute. She watched him leave the room, then turned back to her food, nausea flexing along the walls of her stomach. Across the table, Temari and Kankuro shared a look; then, after inhaling his seconds, Kankuro grabbed another plate from one of the maids and began to fill it with dates and ham and eggs.
"Hey, Moon," he said, standing, grinning at her. He hadn't bothered to put his face paint on yet, and the weeds on his features matched the worried gleam in his dark eyes. "Want to bring breakfast to Gaara with me?"
Smiling, she nodded and stood, leaving her plate, full and waiting.
...
However, Gaara seemed to be in the same state that she was in.
"Seriously, Gaara. Starvin' yourself isn't helping anyone - so just eat the damn food!"
But those turquoise eyes of his never left their place on the plants as he fingered their leaves, wondering if they were watered properly. Kankuro blew out a rough breath, practically dropping the plate of food on the desk as he crossed his arms. Hinata thought he looked like the perfect, older brother: nagging and annoyed, but still overwhelmingly worried for the health of his little brother.
"Hell Almighty," he hissed, "if you don't eat right now - well, I'll tell ya somethin' right now - you ain't gonna have the pleasure of seein' the next day 'cause I'm gonna wring your neck."
And, of course, Gaara passed him without a bat of his eyes as he checked the cacti in the other corner. Kankuro groaned, hands rubbing at his face, before peeking through his fingers at the clock on the wall. He cursed under his breath, glared at the plate next to him, and pushed himself off the desk.
"You deal with him, Hinata," he said, already halfway to the doors. "I need to start checking all the puppets." And despite the fatigue in his swaying steps and the stress weighing down his entire body, he still managed to give her that smile that made her feel like, somehow, everything would work out in the end. "Try not to kill him, will ya? That's my job."
The door shut behind him, and when Hinata turned to Gaara, he was staring back at her. There was a tilt in his gaze that told her that no matter what she said or did, there was no way she would get even a spoonful of food down his throat. Not that she was planning to force him, either way. Just the smell of it made her stomach churn, and she stepped away from the desk to go smell some of the flowers. He watched her for a moment, then joined her at her side.
And it was like she was staring right at Sasuke. The fatigue and hunger in him were so obvious. But she knew he wouldn't eat. Couldn't. Not with . . . the recent happenings.
Bringing a hand to his neck, she trailed her fingers along the skin. "I'm sorry about Matsuri." There was something so eye-catching about standing still and taking the time to watch someone breathe. The subtle movement of his muscles with every inhale and exhale. It made it so obviously clear that he was alive.
But the tremble of his stickers contrasted with everything else about him. There were so dark and harsh. Like the bags under Sasuke's eyes, or the grief in Gaara's gaze. When her fingers brushed against them, they didn't move, and she knew Matsuri's betrayal must have cut him deep.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered.
After a while, a hand found her neck, touched it in the same gentleness that her own fingers did. He sighed, the muscles under her thumb ebbing, and rubbed at the nonexistent weeds on her neck, almost desperately - as if it were his own.
When Sasuke arrived at the room where Matsuri was currently held - a windowless supply closet that was emptied to specifically hold her - he was displeased to find that puppet soldiers weren't the only ones surrounding the room. A few maids were gathered in the hallway, eyeing the door as they whispered to one another. I don't have time for this. Less than two days were left until the sandstorm passed. Someone would try to attack the Sand King within those ticking hours, and haggles of gossiping maids would do no good for anyone.
Especially an irritated, buzzing Uchiha.
He felt the muscles in his back flex as his wings threatened to snap into the air. The prospect of chasing after them with his katana was . . . coaxing, but that would only waste his time. Thus, with his left hand tapping at his scabbard, he sneered at the loitering maids, and said, "Get back to work."
They all nearly jumped five inches into the air, and with whispered apologies and bowed heads, they scuttled off, leaving him to count his pulse and urge the zapping in his ears to settle.
The puppets stayed still as he walked between them and entered the interrogation room where Matsuri was held. Inside looked nothing like the rooms at the Guard, but he could work with it. There was only a table in the middle with two chairs on either side of it. A puppet stood in the far-right corner, watching every aspect of the room with fixed eyes.
And in the matters of the captive, well . . .
She sat in the chair opposite of him, facing forward, gaze staying on the door even when he moved away from it. She looked . . . pensive. Almost like she was playing with the idea of escaping.
Not happening.
Sasuke stood for a while, letting her get used to his presence. He's dealt with the kind before. They acted tough and cool, but inside, they were damn scared. Of him. And that fear usually kept them tongue-tied. So, for a minute, they sunk in the silence, the flickering light of the hanging lanterns casting soft shadows along their features. Her gaze never faltered from the door. Sasuke sunk his right hand into the inside pocket of his cloak and pulled out the crumpled note the maids had given him yesterday.
Placing it on the table, not bemused at all when she kept staring ahead, he pulled back, and said, "The note mentions a rendezvous." Not even a blink. She was good at pretending that he wasn't there, but he wasn't about to quit. Not even close. "It was found in your room. Clearly -" He tapped his thumb subtly on the corner of the note, "this is not your handwriting."
Still nothing but the crackling of flames filled the air.
Pulling the chair back slightly, Sasuke sat down, consciously holding back a smirk upon her flinching at his proximity. Fear would keep her from talking - but a little intimidation never killed anyone.
"I'll find your partner no matter what happens here," he said, settling forward a bit in his seat, "but your Ambassador asked me to give you a chance of redemption." Her gaze shifted, and he pressed on. "How generous."
Finally, those dark eyes of hers left the door to stare at his jaw - avoiding his gaze. Typical.
"How?" She simpered, looked pleased with herself, despite being in the middle of an interrogation. "Are you going to interview everyone here? Would you like to know that there are over two-hundred staff members here? Maids. Soldiers. Chefs. All the sorts." Her eyes slid to the door, then back to him. "And every second interrogating is a second away from your Moon Witch."
She thought she could get under his skin - but Sasuke didn't budge. Years and years of interrogating taught him well how to deal with different situations and different people. Matsuri was trying to get control of the interrogation. He's dealt with plenty of the kind. They usually did so when they were grasping at straws.
Which was sad, really, because he had only just started.
"I'm not worried."
Finally, she met his eye, and the fire within her matched the fwapping lanterns. "Because I'm in here?" she asked, tone low and graveled, so unlike the perfect, flittering voice she'd use while working."You think she's safe just because I'm in here?"
Her pride was on the line, and Sasuke decided to play along with it.
"No one else has attempted to harm her."
Her gaze widened and shook, and she bit her lips together and looked away. "I -" Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat and sharpened her gaze, "I'm full of surprises."
Trying to act threatening, huh? Sasuke scowled. Fucking pitiful.
"So am I."
And the sound of her pride breaking - it was as clear and loud as the chandelier shattering on the ground. Her face turned red and flushed, and Sasuke didn't bother to hide his amusement as she tried, weakly, to scare him again.
"You can't touch me. You have no idea what I'm capable of!"
Because the best way, he knew, to make someone talk was to make them feel like they had to prove something to you.
Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. She wouldn't try to attack him - and even if she did, she couldn't hit him. Fucking Hell. And though this went along with his attempt to anger her, to get her ranting, he couldn't deny how absolutely disappointed he was with how easy it all way.
"I'm all ears," he muttered.
In the corner of his eye, he saw her shoulders drop.
A light, small laugh escaped her. "I'm not stupid, Thor."
"Of course not." He stayed in his relaxed pose, gaze tracing the bland ceiling that danced with a faint, orange glow. "Stupid people don't leave a trail of evidence directly to them."
A short pause - but that told him everything he needed to know.
"If it weren't for the letter, I -"
"The letter wasn't your problem," he said. "It only dug your grave deeper." Sitting up, he found her face again, which was still red and twisted. Her mouth opened and closed, nothing escaping her. The monotony of it all was weighing his brain down, and even he was beginning to get agitated. He leaned forward and planted his chin in his right palm, looking her square in the eye. "This is when you stop wasting my time and start talking."
And what he expected - a flash of intimidation that would have her falling at his feet - didn't come. Odd. She was just a maid - a deranged one, sure, but not one he expected to have a history of petty crimes. Temari had made it obvious to him that before this, Matsuri had acted as nothing but the perfect maid. And he had expected a perfect maid to be in that room with him. Her type was supposed to break at this point.
So why . . . wasn't she?
"You're always so full of yourself," she murmured bitterly, the corners of her lips twisted with frustration. "Confident. Shouldn't you already know?"
So she was dragging this out longer? Fantastic.
"What I don't know is if you had this all planned out the moment she stepped foot here." Not a word escaped her, and he pulled back and crossed his arms, tugging, agitatedly, at his sleeve. "Of course not. Stupid people also don't act on a whim."
Suddenly, she lunged forward, fingers white and bone as they gripped at the edge of the table. She sneered and glared at him.
Finally.
"It wasn't my fault!" she yelled. The puppet in the back shifted, aiming a hand at his sword, but made no other move. "I was fine with her here! Everyone talked about how she could help Gaara - but - but he wouldn't see her. Refused to! So . . ." Her shoulders dropped, and her face went from red to pink. "So I wrote the letter - faked his signature. But you can't blame me! I thought he needed her help, so I pushed them both in the right direction."
Sasuke didn't bother to hide his doubt as he cocked his head to the side. "You thought threatening her life would make her want to see him?"
Matsuri blinked rapidly, then frowned. "It wasn't that. At first, the letter was just asking her to come?" At first? Had there been another letter. But Sasuke had the whole room searched upon the maids giving him the note, and they had found no such thing. "But . . . b-but then you told me who she really was. A witch, trying to deceive him." Her hands fell on the table and curled into fists. "As a maid, I would never want harm to come to my king. So I changed it."
Sasuke thought back to that early morning in the hallway. She had given him the letter long before he had said anything about Hinata. There was no way she couldn't had gotten it and changed it.
But . . .
He looked at her. Everything was genuine. The anger. The frustration.
She was telling the truth.
How? He nearly had the mind to ask her, but she wouldn't budge.
So, instead -
"And now you're here."
He went back to what he did best.
"Don't mock me." Matsuri brought her fists to her lap, and she glared at the table, then at the door behind his left shoulder. "I still have power outside these walls."
He huffed. "Through your partner?"
"I'm not helpless, Thor."
Again, the honesty rolling off her was thick and palpable, and Sasuke had no choice but to believe her.
"No," he supposed, "just stupid." Standing, he felt her drill daggers into him, but he barely took notice of it as he rounded the chair. "I've heard that you've worked here for five years. The Ambassador never suspected you until the very end. They called you loyal. Best of the best. And now here you are - without reputation or an iota of honor." He turned to her, staring her down. "And for what? The visit of a Moon Witch?"
The anger was slowly draining from her face, and her expression turned blank. Knowing he would not get anything else from her this visit, he moved to open the door -
"Have you . . . ever been in love, Thor?"
He grabbed the knob, and electricity left his palm and crackled in the air. He hissed with the lightning in his chest that made his heart race and pulled away from the door, snapping back to Matsuri, scowling. But she only smiled back, eyes shifting in the firelight.
"Sometimes, it's the scariest feeling in the universes." Her right hand came to her chest, hovering over her heart. "Knowing that no matter what you do, who you hurt, or what you put yourself through; no matter the consequences, or the pain you will face, or the harm you may cause; knowing that no matter all of that, you will still put yourself out there, if only for the person you love - that's a terrifying feeling."
And when she met his gaze, it was the first one that didn't feel forced.
"But," she whispered, smile falling slightly, "stupid people love that feeling, I suppose."
The lanterns fwapped, and the fire went out from the mere buzzing and tension in the air, and Sasuke grabbed the knob and flung the door open before a thunderstorm would join the sandstorm blaring outside.
The heat was getting to her again.
She'd spent most of her day with His Majesty. Recalling Sasuke's frustration with her the last time she left, Hinata had decided it was best to stay put and wait for him to be done with his interrogation. But that was hours ago, and it was nearing six in the evening.
The sandstorm had made the air so dusty and dry. She's found herself drinking more than normal, and her neck had begun to ache three hours ago. What she needed was to dive herself into a bath . . . but Sasuke wasn't coming. And now having skipped both breakfast and lunch, she was beginning to feel the effects of her hunger. There was a tremble in her knees, and she felt lightheaded if she stood too quickly. That, and the dizziness of not having enough water in her system, was starting to take a toll on her, and when Hinata stood to peek out the doors for perhaps the fiftieth time that day, her vision blurred, and her legs gave out on her.
The wood floor gave no comfort to her, as it was warm and hard, but she didn't have the strength to push away from it. Her right cheek only pressed against it as she stared at the wall, which swayed and wavered. Her tongue felt like sandpaper. Gods, she was thirsty.
Where's . . . Sasuke . . . ?
Something gentle touched her shoulders and helped her in a sitting position. It was sand, and when she blinked, she saw Gaara walking over. The sand tilted her back and pulled her cloak off of her, and when she felt water begin to sprinkle upon her, she relaxed her head back and let it run over her. It was room temperature, but she would have taken anything. Hinata even opened her mouth to let it wash out the dust collected on the insides of her cheeks. Something tickled the back of her neck, and when she opened her eyes, she saw Gaara was pouring the water from his watering can on her.
She smiled at him, and he stopped and bent down, thumb brushing her gills, as if they were the leaves of his plants.
"Thank you," she said. The sand moved away, and she could sit properly now. "I feel better, Gaara."
He grabbed her hands and helped her up, watching her. Hinata brushed some of the water drops out of her bangs and rubbed the moisture upon her bare arms, letting the dry skin soak it up. Never in her life had she thought she'd ever miss Ocean 11, but anything would beat being stuck in the middle of a desert during a sandstorm. When she was done, she smiled at him and pressed her cool fingers on his neck, giggling a bit as his eyelids fluttered and a few stickers fell to the ground.
They were nearly gone, and his breathing was totally stable now. She only hoped the weeds hadn't permanently damaged his vocal cords by the time she was done.
Suddenly, the door opened -
"Moon Witch."
And she didn't have to turn to know she didn't want to look back.
That voice . . . was so . . . .
She didn't know how to describe it other than weak, and she didn't dare let a centimeter of that thought come to her face, knowing Sasuke would hate the look of it. But . . . he sounded so beyond his normal self. It was beyond tired. He was running himself into the ground, and if Hinata looked and saw him in such a state, she knew she'd cry at the sight.
Light footfalls stopped halfway between her and the door. She felt electricity stare into her back, then slide down to the cloak on the floor. Jumping into action, she blushed and bent down, grabbing it and pulling it on. She wiped whatever water was left on her face, pulled up the hood, and walked to Sasuke, keeping her gaze low. Hinata knew he hated it when she did that, but . . . .
"Is there anything about her that I should know?"
By instinct, her gaze flew up upon Sasuke's question, and she looked at his jaw and saw that he was facing Gaara. The Sand King was picking up his watering can, but upon the question, stilled, eyes storming.
Oh, Hinata realized. He's talking about Matsuri.
When no sign of anything escaped Gaara, Sasuke clenched his jaw and snapped away. "She's in love with you," he hissed, "and now we're in this mess."
His black cape waved past her as he opened the door, a clear indication to her that he wanted them to leave. But she was stuck, for a moment, in watching most of her work go to waste as a new cluster of dark stickers glued themselves to Gaara's neck, and he wheezed and walked to his desk, letting them leave.
...
When she was in the bath, Hinata had to duck her head under the water and cry to keep Sasuke from hearing her frustrated sobs.
He's making this harder than it has to be!
She'd been so close. Another pluck or two more, and Gaara could have been talking again.
What if I have to start all over again?
They didn't have time. At any moment, someone could attack Gaara. Why didn't the guy who was so obsessed with time not seem to understand that?
How am I supposed to . . .
Sighing to herself, she pulled her face out of the water and wiped her face clean of water and tears. Crying about it wasn't going to help her or Gaara. If she had to start from square one, she would. And she knew it wasn't totally fair to blame Sasuke. He was exhausted, probably agitated with the millions of jobs suddenly placed on his shoulders. It was trouble enough to protect her - but to solve this whole ordeal in the middle of a sandstorm with no sleep or time to rest . . . .
Well, even he was inclined to make mistakes.
But . . . this seems to be a recurring one.
After washing her hair and face, Hinata stepped out and began to dry herself. The mirror on the wall was foggy from the steam, and she had to wipe it clean when she began to brush her hair.
It was surely clear to anyone under the sun that Sasuke Uchiha had . . . trouble expressing himself properly. When she had been dragged to Forest 3 by Tamaki, he'd been so irritated that she had, at one point, thought he regretted saving her life. Now she knew he had just wished she'd be more careful. When Suigetsu was not doing his job, Sasuke was the one who had to snap him out of it - just, not in the best of ways. He was a rough man; most Guards were. But Hinata was also aware that he was human. Humans cared. Sasuke cared, even if for few things. She doubted he had planned to snap at the Sand King in such a way.
Maybe . . . I should say something to him.
Pulling on her cloak, Hinata was now dressed in fresh clothes. Her gaze found the door, and her heart drummed.
I could give him pointers, she thought, or kindly remind him to think before he speaks.
A moment or two of her shifting from one leg to the other, pondering, passed, and with a set mindset and a nod to her head, she went to the door and opened it.
You'll be fine. It's just -
She looked down and found him sitting back on the opposite wall, eye barely opened as he stared, blankly, down the hall.
. . . Sasuke
He didn't even move, as if not noticing her.
"Lady Hinata."
She blinked upon her figment cousin stepping into view, eyes narrow with thought. His hair swayed over his shoulder, and he looked at her with expectation. He didn't have to say another word - she knew. And with a guilty smile, she closed the door behind her, creating enough noise to catch Sasuke's attention.
"Um," she said, thumbs rubbing together awkwardly, "I'd like to go back to Gaara, if you don't mind." It would be the best for both of them. She could restart the work on his stickers, and Sasuke could free some of his attention from having to constantly look out for her.
Silent as ever, he stood and let her lead the way. She didn't mention how he lagged slightly behind her. All she could do was hope that the hours would pass by quicker - for both of their sakes.
...
They were a few hallways away from Gaara's chambers when ruckus sounded.
"Damn it all!"
The shrill yell and the hollow clacking that followed after it was the signature sound of Temari, and when they turned a corner, Hinata and Sasuke both saw her pacing by her office door, a hand to her head, rubbing her temple. She held a piece of paper in her hand, which was nearly destroyed in her tight, shaking grip. Upon her gaze finding them, she marched over, face as red as her lipstick.
"We have a problem," she said, holding the paper out to Sasuke, who took it and instantly began to read it. "One of my doctors just came with the inventory report. Some fucker just stole -" She scratched at the back of her neck and hissed upon digging her nails no hard into the skin. Hinata witnessed more stickers form, and her worry began to skyrocket. "Damn it. And I was just there, too."
Sasuke looked away from the paper, his uncovered eye narrow. "Did you talk to -"
"Yes. And he's one of the people you've already interrogated." Interrogated? Hinata thought Sasuke only had to interrogate Matsuri. "So unless you're doubtin' your own investigation skills, it's not -" Temari sighed, forcing herself to calm down, and placed a hand on her hip. "I just don't get it. I was there when he was checking inventory. How could I have missed someone stealing sleep medicine?"
Sleep medicine?
Hinata's seen the expression surrounding the halls. Sasuke and Gaara weren't the only tired ones. Did . . . someone steal medicine to be able to sleep better?
But based off of the sudden tension in Sasuke's body as his wings shot out, she supposed something must more dire was happening. "Go make sure more isn't stolen," he told Temari, who was already spinning on her heels and racing down the hallway. The air created from his flapping wings was harsh, and Hinata had to hold her hood up when he turned to her. "Go to his chambers and do not leave."
His voice was so hard and serious. Hinata tried to nod, but he was already gone.
Panic was beginning to settle in, and she wasn't exactly sure what she should be scared of or looking for. Walking to Gaara's chambers with a quickness in her step that she tried to not make obvious, Hinata was there in about two minutes. Everything seemed normal. There was no hysteria in the air, and all the soldiers and puppets she passed seemed to act normally. But still, her panic would not stop rising -
"Ah - Moon Witch."
And when a sudden voice came, she yelped and backed a few feet away.
"Oh! I'm sorry." Upon catching her breath, Hinata found it was an older maid with a cup of something in her hand. She had a kind, sheepish smile, and Hinata instantly felt silly for getting spooked by her. "I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay?"
Hinata nodded and matched her smile, then looked at her destination. There were twice the amount of puppets there, which were stood directly in the path of the door. "Um, can I help you with something?"
The maid laughed and looked down at her cup. "Well, I'm trying to tell these puppets that I need to give His Majesty his green tea. It's around this time that he gets tired, and the tea does well in keeping him awake in alert. But, well, they don't seem in the mood to let me in." Hinata felt her gaze trace her face and flushed, feeling exposed, and moved to pull her hood closer. "Oh, dear. You look exhausted." She did? She'd been so caught up with things to really notice. "If you'd like, you can have the tea. Better you have it than it get wasted."
The mug was placed in her hands, and Hinata's senses were overcome with the smell of green tea, instantly waking her up. The maid smiled and bowed before leaving, and Hinata looked at the puppets, who stared, not moving. They looked so . . . unreal, and she had to push away the anxiety building up in her
I promised Sasuke I'd go inside.
She stepped forward, but they didn't move.
Why? She had been sure they were used to seeing her, and obviously she posed no threat. Her mind latched onto the scary thought that, maybe, Gaara had gone back to distancing himself from her, but she shook that thought away. There was no way.
. . . right?
"Move."
The voice over her shoulder was powerful and stern, and the puppets followed the order without question, stepping the side and allowing her entrance. She didn't have to turn, for in the corner of her eye, she saw Sasori approach.
"Go ahead," he said, eyes falling on the mug in her hands. "You can give it to him now."
A thank you was on the tip of her tongue, but he took those about as well as Sasuke took apologies, so Hinata only nodded and pushed the door open with her shoulders. She felt his eyes on her the entire time, and that feeling of constantly being watched returned tenfold. But before she could fully open the door, there was a yell down the hallway.
"Sasori! I need your help. Some of the puppets are acting up!"
It was Kankuro, and the concern in his tone was about as apparent as the strings of magic gathering at Sasori's fingertips as he turned and followed Kankuro down the way.
Puppets acting up? Stolen medicine? Surely, something must have been happening -
"A distraction," Neji supposed, but when Hinata asked him a distraction from what, he didn't have an answer, and her heart fell to her feet.
Gaara's room was barely lit, but her Moon eyes allowed her to see a clear picture of him sat behind his desk. A noticeable frown was on his lips as he stared to the side, not acknowledging her once as she slowly made her way to him. Even when she placed the steaming mug on the desk before him, he didn't move, and when she looked at his neck, it was too covered for her to see him breathing.
"Gaara?" she whispered. It didn't take a mind reader or a Moon Witch to figure out he was still stuck on what Sasuke had said earlier. "I brought you your tea."
His eyes narrowed and stormed, and she remembered yesterday morning, when Matsuri had brought him some. She must have been the one who always brought it to him. Pulse racing, Hinata pushed the mug to the side and rounded the desk, stepping into his line of sight and meeting his gaze.
"Gaara."
His frown deepened, and when he tried to turn away, she moved with his gaze and grabbed the side of his robes' collar, coaxing him to look at her.
"Were this any other situation, I'd ask you to talk to me." With her free hand, she pulled her hood down and let him see her smile. "But you can't . . . so I'll talk, instead." Around the room, she heard his sand slither around and slide against the wood floor. "This isn't your fault. You know it isn't. Sasuke knows it's not - he's tired, I'm sure you're aware. Frustrated. So many things are happening at once, and he has to - well, I'm sure you know all that, too. But Matsuri's not your fault. Your voice is not your fault. You have to believe me."
His face stayed flat, but his eyes flashed and dimmed as she spoke. A few stickers fell from his throat, and though it was not nearly enough, it was a good start.
Plucking them, grounding them into the wood with her shoe, she continued. "I wonder if you've ever been in love, Gaara." She took a small glance to see if his expression would confirm or deny anything, saw he was avoiding her eye again, and bit her lips together to keep from smiling. "If you have, I'm sure you know how, sometimes, you become a different person. How you become louder, or happier, or -" A laugh and a bright smile took her by surprise as it flashed through her entire being, and the room grew hotter, "braver. Sometimes, we become our best person; other times, we become our worst person - and that's on us. Because despite what everyone likes to tell you, love doesn't take control of every aspect of your life. You have control over it, not the other way around."
A few of the stickers on the right side of his neck loosened, and her fingers popped before she worked at them. Sand slinked closer, and she saw a string of it lift the mug and bring it to Gaara's waiting hands. He sipped at the tea slowly, as if not to get in the way of her plucking.
"Matsuri let her love . . . become out of control, and with that came all the horrible things that come with such a strong emotion: jealousy and possessiveness and selfishness. She was so willing to throw all she had away for you that . . . she didn't take time to step back and see the full picture." She looked at him, and he looked back, breathing now normal and calm. "That was her fault, not yours."
The beginnings of a smile touched the corners of his lips, and when she managed to look away from it, she saw that she had been able to get most of the weeds off again. Thrilled, she laughed and leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He settled back, his own hands hovering about her before slowly landing on her back. He was warm - the kind she didn't mind at all. The kind that was relaxing and nice and - and familiar, somehow. Nostalgic.
"I don't know how I know all of that stuff," she mused into the collar of his robes. "Maybe it's common knowledge, or maybe I've just learned from the many talks I've had with people at the bar." Something tugged at the back of her mind - a sort of fogginess that made her wonder and ponder. "Or maybe . . . I was in love, once, too."
Gaara's shoulders curled, and she pulled back.
"W . . . Was I?"
And before her very eyes came a miracle, for every single one of those dark stickers on him fell and fizzled without her even lifting a finger. His gaze was wide and shining, and he must have realized, somehow, what had happened, for his hand went to his throat as he wheezed and grunted and - and -
"Hin . . . a . . . ta."
Spoke.
Gasping, she pulled away from him completely. She knew that voice. Of course, she did. They'd been friends for years. But the overwhelming nostalgia and understanding she had from just a voice was so powerful and breathtaking and startling that -
That she almost didn't realize him falling until he weakly caught himself by the edge of his desk. Heart jumping, she grabbed his shoulders, trying to keep him upwards. "What's wrong?" she asked, left hand touching his forehead for any sudden fever or signs of illness. He looked pale, and his gaze seemed unable to focus. "Gaara?"
The sand around them fell, lifeless, to the ground, and to her left, the mug of green tea crashed into pieces and stained the wood floor.
When Sasuke returned to the room that held Matsuri, she was still sitting in that chair, looking how she did seven hours ago when he had left her.
He didn't believe it for even a second.
"What did you do with it?"
He slammed the inventory paper on the table, and she blinked slowly and looked down at it, smiling. "What do you mean?"
Don't fucking play with me. "The medicine," he said, motioning to the missing inventory piece that was circled in bold, dark ink. "And don't try to play dumb. We both know what this type of shit does to someone." He's heard enough about the constant sleeping problems His Majesty has - to where the doctors in Sun 1 had to create a special kind of sleeping medicine laced with magic to get him to fall asleep. He's heard that it could knock anyone cold within minutes - and that was the problem. "What did you do with it?"
Matsuri didn't crack at all, only stared at the paper.
"I've been here all day, Thor," she said. "I couldn't have stolen this." Her eyes flickered to the door, gleaming. "Maybe it was my partner."
He knew it wasn't. He's already interviewed all the doctors and maids, who could go to such a place without being noticed. Her partner had to be one of the other staff members who would have been noticed by Temari or the doctors if they had shown up to steal the medicine. Her partner didn't do this. She did.
She had to have.
Sitting in the chair, crossing his fingers together, Sasuke pushed away any fatigue had felt to keep a close eye on her, scoping out for anything that could reveal how, exactly, she could be here and in the doctor's office across the palace at the same time.
"You mentioned before that you how powers outside these walls. That you're full of surprises." He watched her avoid his eye, knowing she was getting nervous. "Do you take any relief in knowing I fully believe you?"
Matsuri's eyes narrowed, and she huffed and folded her arms. "You'd believe the woman you're interrogating?"
In most cases, no.
But she was like the Moon Witch - easy to read, and a horrible liar. He knew when she was being honest and when she was talking out of her ass.
Not to mention that, throughout the day, he had been thinking long and hard about her story about the letter; how she had apparently changed its content within a second while it was situated in his possession. And to hear Temari mention an awfully similar scenario - well, it sure clicked a few things together for him.
"You'd be surprised what I'm willing to believe," he said, smirking. "I also know you're the one who's behind the terrible curse about Gaara." That had connected in his head on his way here. If Matsuri was somehow able to steal medicine under Temari's nose and change letters in seconds, she'd also be able to steal pens and ink right from Gaara's hand. And the fact that she was his maid made her loitering about his room unsuspicious to any passing folk.
Her shoulders tensed, and that was all the confirmation he needed.
"You're insane," she muttered, knuckles turning white. "I didn't steal anything."
"Then let me search you."
He stood, and so did she, backing away.
"Don't touch me," she said, glaring.
So annoying. His hands twitched for his katana, but he ignored the itch and moved for grabbing her instead. His fingers grazed her sleeve - and then, suddenly, she was against the back wall, palms hugging the smoothed sandstone. It all happened so suddenly, but Sasuke was sure she had just . . . .
"Teleportation?"
She was shaking and sweating, yet, still, a grin took over her lips. "Time control," she whispered. "I wasn't lying when I said you can't touch me."
Her eyes flickered to the door. If what she said was true, she was probably already on her way to escaping.
Damn it all!
Pulling out his katana, he rushed forward and swung at the air, unsure if he'd be able to hit anything - but then there was a bloodcurdling scream, and suddenly, Matsuri was on the ground below him, everything below her right knee missing. She struggled to get up, but he pinned her down and began to search her pockets for the medicine.
"How did you hit me!?" she screamed, face pale as she seemed to struggle with staying conscious. "I stopped time! There's no way you were fast enough - to - to -"
He found a small, clear vial and pulled it out, cursing when he saw that it was empty, only a bit of the powdered medicine clinging to the bottom of the bottle. When he moved to ask her what she did with it, he found she was already unconscious and got to his feet.
"Shit!"
Only to then be attacked as the puppet from the back wall sprung in the air, swinging his sword about. He dodged the first swing and blocked the other, then plunged his lightning blade into its chest, cutting it in half. Its pieces fell to the ground, fidgeting, and Sasuke stretched his wings out and flew out the door.
"Fuckin' Hell! Where's Sasori!? And - damn it - you two, get control over those things!"
The soldier puppets outside were already taken care of by Kankuro, who kept them still with the magic from his fingers. Sasuke saw the whole hallway was littered with uncontrolled puppets, who attacked the puppeteers who were trying to regain their control over them.
Upon seeing him leave the room, Kankuro asked, "Did the one inside attack you? Is Matsuri still in there? These damn things suddenly went berserk and -" He looked inside, saw the destroyed puppet laying in halves, and yelped. "You bastard! It took me weeks to make that thing!"
Recalling that Hinata was at the Sand King's chamber, Sasuke quickly jumped into the air and flew off to make sure she wasn't being attacked by puppets, either.
Behind him, Kankuro yelled, "Wait, hey - damn it! Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?"
But Sasuke, for once, didn't have an answer, and all he could focus on was making sure the Moon Witch was safe.
"Sasori."
That feeble whisper barely left Gaara's tongue as he collapsed on the floor by his desk, barely able to keep his head up. Hinata had her hands under his skull, keeping it from cracking against the floor, and she was barely able to hear him through her wailing nerves.
"G-Gaara, I don't -"
"It's Sasori," he murmured.
Beyond the walls, there was muffled chaos that could be heard. Hinata was too busy worrying about Gaara to pay it much attention, but when the front doors suddenly slammed open, she couldn't ignore it, even if she wanted to. Yelling. Crashing. Fighting. Thudding. It was so loud and destructive, and when she whipped around, she saw the very man Gaara was warning her of.
"S-Sasori." She stood, hands stretched out from her side, trying to keep all of Gaara's collapsed figure behind her.
It didn't seem to help much, for he quite easily found him, and his eyes shined in the darkness of the room. "Oh, good," he mused. "Matsuri wanted you to drink it, but I knew this would be a lot easier if he was out." Gaara's right hand trembled and clenched, and a bit of sand picked up and crawled towards Sasori, who rose a brow at its slow, powerless dance. As soon as it stood, the sand fell back to the ground, and Hinata saw that Gaara had fallen unconscious. "Just get out of my way. I need to deal with him first."
Hinata, despite every bone in her body trembling, stayed her ground.
"D-Don't come any closer."
He stopped a good ten feet away from her, bored, dead eyes drilling into her skull.
"I'm not supposed to hurt you," he droned, "but that doesn't mean you can make this a pain in my ass."
His fingers snapped, and the puppets that were guarding the door rushed in. At first, she had thought they'd attack him; but upon realizing he was in control, knew she was a fool to think such a thing. They surrounded her, one of them lunging forward and grabbing the back of her hood, dragging her away from Gaara. She choked, grabbed her dagger, and spun around to sink it into his chest - but the blade only sunk a few inches into the wood, and no pain came to the puppet as he yanked her back and threw her to the ground.
As the puppets held her down, Sasori walked over to Gaara, something of a wicked smirk licking at his lips. "I'm also not supposed to hurt him," he mused, pale finger peeking out from his long sleeves to trace shapes into Gaara's face, "but when Matsuri tried to get us both killed by crashing a chandelier into you, I knew it was no holds barred from then on." He leaned down, and for the first time ever, his eyes looked alive. "You'd look a lot better without all that skin, My Majesty."
Struggling, Hinata managed to get some good footing, and just when she was about to push all of her strength into her legs to knock the puppets off of her -
Sasuke came.
Flying in, katana out and blade blazing with white light, he swooped down, and within three seconds, had already slain two of the puppets. Sasori's head snapped up, and more of the puppets ran to attack Sasuke, creating enough of a distraction for Hinata to push the puppets off of her and get to her feet. Kicking them down, she placed a knee on one of their chests, stabbing her dagger into its joints, destroying them and keeping it from moving. She did the same to the other one, then rushed at Sasori, swinging her dagger at his back. Though she didn't hit him, she managed to rip her blade his tunic, revealing two, deep holes in his back and -
And . . . stickers?
But he pounced away before she could swing at him again, sneering.
The other puppets were already cut into useless pieces that littered the floor, and Sasuke aimed his blade at Sasori. The amount of electricity in the room was enough to make Hinata feel like she was drowning, and she had to consciously pace her breathing as she crawled to Gaara to make sure he was alright.
"You're late," Sasori droned, rolling his shoulders. "Matsuri keep you busy?"
The lightning blade hissed with Sasuke's grimace. "Just make this interesting for me."
Sasuke thrusted his katana at Sasori, who dodged before leaping in the air to knee him in the stomach. Hinata was busy checking Gaara's pulse, glad to find it strong and beating. She pushed his shoulders, wondering if he were at all conscious, but upon getting a glance of some of his sand shifting, as if reacting to the fighting, she supposed there was some hope that he was.
A horrible, crackling sound boomed through the air, and she looked up to find that Sasuke had plunged his katana into Sasori's right shoulder, the one that had been broken by the chandelier. No scream or blood came, not even an expression of pain. Sasori only looked irritated as he jumped back, and Sasuke landed a few feet in front of her, looking about as confused as she felt.
"I knew I shouldn't have saved you," Sasori grunted. His left hand grabbed the injured shoulder, thumb sinking into the smoking hole, and with a loud snap, he yanked it off and threw it to the ground. "You just made this a lot harder for me."
What? Her eyes stared at the fallen arm, again seeing no blood or bone. It was like he were a . . .
Puppet.
But there's no way. She looked at Sasuke, who, based on the narrow of his eye and square of his shoulders, seemed to have the exact same conclusion. Right?
But if he is, she realized, looking at the scattered puppet parts, how is Sasuke going to -
Wait.
Standing up, she rounded the desk and got a glimpse of Sasori's exposed back. There! She hadn't been seeing things. There were stickers on his back. And, sure, puppets didn't have stickers, but people did.
"His back!" Hinata yelled to Sasuke. "Aim for his back!"
Sasori's head snapped her way, eyes sharp and smoldering with fire and poison. Suddenly, he was sprinting directly at her, and she barely got a grasp of her dagger when Sasuke flew in and knocked him into the wall. He hissed as his jaw was grounded into the hard plaster, and Sasuke ripped away any hanging fabric before driving his katana straight into his back.
A howl of excruciating pain left Sasori, and burnt flesh filled the air. For a second, Hinata was sent back to Forest 3, just inches away from Tamaki's corpse. She'd sounded just the same before she had collapsed, dead. And Hinata couldn't get the image of her wound out of her head. Charred and oozing, smelling like death -
But she was snapped out of her flashback when Sasori swung his left arm back, hand grabbing the blade and yanking it out of his back. That gave him just enough time to whirl around and knock Sasuke back with a kick to his stomach. Sasori's head snapped her way. She was scared he'd rush at her again, but instead he took a few steps back before sending his entire body into the glass of the nearby balcony doors.
The first thing that came was roaring wind as Hinata watched his body rip through the boards on the other side of the glass doors. Sand immediately spilled into the room. A few of the puppet pieces were sucked in by the strong gusts of wind and flew out the window, knocking into the glass and boards, making the hole larger.
Something hard knocked into Hinata's back, sending her forward and into the ground. The ground slid beneath her, and she tried to get a grip of the wood, but sweat made her finger slip. She yelped, head snapping up, getting to see her last few moments in the room before she saw sucked into the sandstorm.
...
It almost felt like she was flying.
She was used to the feeling of having nothing beneath her - she'd almost lived all her life with such a feeling. After her wings had disappeared, Hinata was sure she would never feel such an amazing, exhilarating feeling ever again.
But everything else about it was absolutely, completely horrifying.
She couldn't hear anything but chaos - it sounded like one of the trains in Moon was running straight at her, loud and blaring. The wind snapped her this way and that, her back and neck cracking with every gust that pushed at her body without mercy. Her hands covered her mouth to keep the sand out, but still, she was barely able to breathe.
And the worst thing about it was that she had to keep her eyes shut. She didn't know where she was or where she was going. She couldn't see anything to grab onto or two avoid. She was at the sandstorm's mercy, and it was looking ready to kill her.
But even without looking, she could feel Neji out there. Was he flying in the sandstorm, too? Or was he just floating there, watching her, desperately trying to help her, but knowing he couldn't? She was so tempted to look, and her eyelids began to flutter, knowing she'd want the last thing she saw to be her cousin.
Then something grabbed her arm.
She gasped, and the wrist of the hand at her mouth was also pulled away. Her eyes snapped open, and through the sand, she saw Sasuke had grabbed her. His white wings, battered by the cruel wind and sand, worked in overdrive and he pulled her with him, back towards what she believed to be the palace. She wasn't sure. Her head was spinning. She couldn't tell east from north, and she hoped with all her soul he could.
The wind whipped past him, and he clenched his jaw and ground his teeth together as he yanked her over and over and over again. She didn't think she could hold her breath much longer, and he yelled in frustration as something slammed into his back, nearly smacking into his wings.
Sand scrapped at her eyes, making them water and burn, and she had to close them. "Let me go!" she yelled. The second her mouth opened, sand filled it, and she coughed it out and choked when some of it clung to the back of her throat. She knew the chances of surviving this were nonexistent, and she didn't want to drag him with her. "Sasuke, please!"
But his grip only tightened, and she could suddenly only hear his wings flapping harder and harder and harder -
Then he let go - and she was thrown back into havoc.
...
Was it weird to say she wanted her final thought to be Naruto?
Not her family - not her father or mother, not Hanabi, not Neji - but him. The man she'd totally forgotten about.
Maybe it was a little silly.
But dying people were allowed that, weren't they?
So she thought about him, pretended that the cloak around her body was actually him hugging her, keeping her warm and safe. It felt so nice. He was so nice. Was that weird to think?
No.
Because it was true, wasn't it?
And she didn't think about how much she wanted to see him or how badly she wanted to talk to him again - her last few moments were supposed to be happy. So she thought about how happy she was to have met him, to have helped him, to have had him on her side when she felt her absolute worse.
And Hinata was happy -
Because her last thought would be about Naruto, and the last thing she would ever see . . . .
Well, it wasn't her cousin's face, but Sasuke was still enough.
He was enough.
I hope he got back fine . . . .
"Open your damn eyes, Hinata!"
And without thought or hesitation of confusion or wonder or fear or reluctance, she did.
Electric white danced before here, whirling, swirling, creating a gigantic gust of wind that combatted the sandstorm, and that gave Sasuke enough time to swoop behind her, pick her up by her arms, and push her forward. She saw glints of string in the beige storm, its greens contrasting nicely with the rest of her universe. The sandstorm's winds picked up and pushed against them, but she felt that they were still going forward. Almost pulled.
That flapping sound returned, and her heart raced with it.
The sand flew in her eyes, but she kept them open as, through the storm, the palace walls came into view.
...
Her feet didn't find the wood floor first, but rather her hands and knees.
She collapsed, choking and coughing, eyes and throat burning. Temari was next to her, patting her back and pulling her hair out of her face to give her a look at her gills, brushing the sand out of them to help her breathe. In the corner of her eye, Hinata saw Kankuro remove the strings of magic from Sasuke and to some undamaged puppets, who linked together and blocked off the hole in the glass doors.
"Are you okay?" Temari asked when Hinata finally got enough strength to sit upright.
She nodded, feeling sore everywhere, but still glad she had been brought back - alive.
"Fuck!"
Kankuro cursed loudly and he dropped on his knees at Sasuke's side, who had his hands at his neck, struggling to breathe. He fell to the ground, his wings falling over him, like a ghostly pall over a tomb.
Temari scrambled over. "Shit. He must have gotten some sand in his lungs."
Sand?
Adrenaline rushed through Hinata's system, her body turning red and hot, sweat rolling down her arms.
No. Gods, no. Please!
He can't die. Not because of me!
Her head snapped left and right. Desperately looking for something - anything - to help him. Her gaze found Gaara, who had been moved on his back near the wall farthest away from the hole. Scrabbling, too weak to get on her feet, she crawled to him and began to push as much of her strength into waking him up.
"Gaara!" she yelled. "Gaara, wake up! Please! You need to help Sasuke!"
He didn't budge, but the sand surrounding him stirred.
"Please! Gaara, please!" What she could see of Sasuke's face was purple, and she pushed more against Gaara, tears and sand trickling down her face. "Wake up. Wake up! Please - Sasuke can't breathe!"
A low, barely audible groan. Hinata saw his eyes flutter and open, hazily looking at her face. "Gaara," she breathed, moving out of the way so he could see Sasuke. "Please help him - I think there's sand in his lungs."
Unable to keep his eyes open, Gaara gave a small nod, lifted his right hand, and with the swipe of his fingers, a ribbon of sand left Sasuke's gaping mouth. He gasped loudly, sounding like he inhaled a gallon of oxygen, before collapsing on the floor. Hinata panicked until she saw his face turn back to normal, and a sob wracked her body as she grasped Gaara's lifted hand, thanking him as he slowly fell back into slumber.
Thank the Gods, she thought, relaxing against the wall, vaguely aware of Temair and Kankuro checking to make sure everything else about Sasuke was fine. Thank them all.
It was seven in the morning, ten hours after the whole fiasco, and Sasuke was still passed out in her bed. Sleeping, she supposed, was the better word for it - and she didn't dare try to stir him from his slumber. He'd been exhausted and had most literally risked his life for her. The least she could do for him was let him sleep the day away.
There was a knock at her door, and a maid walked in with a large glass in hand.
"We've prepared the smoothie you requested, Moon."
Hinata thanked her as the maid handed her the glass and a spoon, and with a bow of her chin, she was gone.
Stirring the spoon in the smoothie, making sure the consistency was good, Hinata dipped her pinky along the rim to make sure it wasn't too sweet. Finding it tangy, but not totally sugary, Hinata placed it on the side table before moving to sit Sasuke up. It was a bit of a hassle with how tall he was compared to her, but she managed to sit him against a pillow to keep him up without hurting his back. Grabbing the smoothie and spoon, she looked back at him, and couldn't help but smile.
"Don't worry," she whispered, "I won't tell anyone about this."
Scooting closer to him, she scooped a small spoonful of the liquidy smoothie, pulled his mouth open, and slid it down his tongue to trigger his swallowing reflexes. After a few seconds of no choking came, Hinata sighed and went in for another spoonful.
...
Four hours later, and Sasuke was still sleeping.
Good.
She was in the middle of unwrapping the bandages on his hands - she saw he had yet to change them and had requested someone bring fresh bandages - when, once again, a knock came to her door.
"Come in," she called.
And they did. Swiftly. Quietly. Unlike any maid, and especially not like Temari or Kankuro -
"Hinata."
Pulling away the last of the bandages, Hinata looked up just as Gaara was closing the door behind him, a roll of bandages in hand. She smiled, excited to see he was awake and seemingly unharmed, and took the badges from him.
"I'm sorry," she said, "if I had known they were sending the Sand King, I would have gotten these myself."
His eyes followed her hands as she unwound the road. "I wanted to see you." His gaze fell on her left foot, which was placed at the end of the bed, atop a pillow. "And you shouldn't be walking on that."
"It's just sprained," she said, looking away from him to find Sasuke's bare hands. She pulled her ointment out of her luggage, applied it to the healing wounds, and began to wrap them in the new bandage. "I could have been a lot more wounded. We all could have."
He walked closer and settled himself at the side of the bed, right next to her, looking over her shoulder at the resting Uchiha. "Do you think he will wake before sunrise?" Sunrise? Hinata paused in her wrapping to think, and she gave a slow nod. As if hearing her unsaid question, Gaara continued, "Are you aware he's been trying to come here for ten months now?" She gaped, and the corners of Gaara's lips lifted a tad. "The timing has never worked until now. I'd hate for him to miss it."
Hinata switched to Sasuke's other hand, and asked, "Why?"
A pause, short and humming. "They say the Regenbogen after the sandstorm is the best one all year." She felt his gaze on her and turned her head to meet it. "I want you to see it, too."
She couldn't really imagine Sasuke being all that interested in seeing a sunset, but she knew she wouldn't miss it for anything. Smiling, she nodded enthusiastically, and Gaara matched her smile.
"I'm glad you're back, Hinata."
The hair on the back of her neck stood, and she focused back on wrapping. "So am I, Gaara."
When she was done with the hands, she then turned her attention to Sasuke's stomach, recalling he had been hit there a few times in his and Sasori's fight. Pulling back the sheets, she pulled up his shirt and frowned at the purple swelling upon his abdomen. Pulling away, she reached to retrieve more bottles of ointment from her luggage as Gaara, returning to the foot of the bed, watching, smile disappearing.
"Will you be at dinner?"
Her gaze fell on Sasuke's partly-covered, slumbering features, and said, "If he's awake, maybe."
Gaara shifted as she began to gently rub the ointment into Sasuke's abdomen. "You won't leave his side," he mused softly, "will you?"
Hinata looked up at him, gleaming. "All this time, he's been watching over me." Done with the ointment, she cleaned her hands on a towel before covering Sasuke once again. "The least I could do is return the favor."
...
Five hours after that, when Hinata was pressing a cool rag against Sasuke's neck, did he finally began to stir awake. His uncovered eye moved under his eyelid, then slowly blinked open, the darks of his iris somehow glazed.
Pulling her rag away, she smiled down at him, and said, "How are you feeling?"
His answer was a low groan as he slowly pushed himself up. Hinata had to curl her fingers into the sheets to keep from helping him, knowing he wouldn't want it. Rubbing at his face, hissing, his cracked voice asked, "How long?"
She blushed and looked away. "U-Um. Nineteen hours, I think."
He huffed, blinked again, and settled into the mattress.
Her fingers left the sheets, now wrapping around the damp rag in her hand. "Um," she whispered, "Sasuke -"
"Don't fucking thank me, Moon Witch," he said, the back of his skull leaning against the wall. "It's too damn hot for any of that shit."
Understanding what he was getting at, she quickly moved into action, pressing the rag against his forehead and, upon pulling it away a few seconds later, being pleasantly surprised to find the stickers falling off and popping out of existence.
...
An hour after that, and the maids had come in with dinner.
"I could have walked," Sasuke muttered as they prepared everything for them on the side tables. "I'm not helpless."
Having already prepared for this, Hinata sheepishly looked at her bandaged foot. "I'm sorry," she said. "They told me to stay off of it, so I thought . . . ."
She trailed off, and upon hearing no further complaints or protests, relaxed her shoulders and pulled her silverware from her folded napkin.
...
It was nearing ten at night when Sasuke was (slowly) getting himself situated back on his feet - to go back to guarding outside, Hinata realized with a glob of dread sinking into her gut.
"You can sleep in here," she piped just as his hand found the handle to the door, "if you're still tired." He gave her a look, and upon recalling he had just spent most of the day sleeping, blushed and bowed her chin. "Or . . . not. But, um, I'm going to be waking up earlier to go see the sunset with Gaara. If . . . that's . . . okay."
He paused for a second.
Her heart jumped into her mouth.
"Um - you don't have to come, of course. I was just -"
"It's fine," he said, pushing open the door. "I'll come."
Remembering Gaara's words from earlier, Hinata nodded, and did not protest any further.
...
Sunrise came a lot sooner than she imaged, and when Hinata was stirred out of her sleep by a hand on her shoulder, she felt like she had just fallen asleep not two minutes ago. Humming, she pulled her sheets away to find Sasuke standing at the side of her bed, wings out and looking absolutely heavenly in the dark.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
Hinata nodded and moved to stand, but he didn't step away. "Is something wrong?" she asked, unsure why he wouldn't give her room to stand and walk.
A stillness in the air, then his wings curled slightly over his shoulders as he leaned forward and picked her up from her bed. She bit her lips together, surprise zapping through her, and she, by instinct, grabbed onto the front of his shirt.
"Sasuke," she breathed.
"You aren't supposed to stand on it," he reminded her.
She blushed, but didn't try to wiggle out, scared she would hurt him. "I'll be fine walking on it, I'm sure."
But despite her words, he carried her out the room and down the hallway.
"I know."
...
When they got to Gaara's chambers, Sasuke placed her down, letting her take her first steps onto the balcony. The sandstorm was long gone, have disappeared hours ago, and barely a trace of it remained from what she could see outside. The sky was cloudless, giving her a good look at the horizon, which slowly turned pink as the sun approached it. The sand was silver like the moon still hanging in the sky, but if what Hinata remembered from the book was true, it would change as soon as the sun rose.
Gaara, Temari, and Kankuro were already outside, Kankuro being the first to spot and wave them over as he sat on the balcony's railing.
"You showed up just in time!" he said, grinning. "It'll be starting any second now!"
"You excited?" Temari asked her as Hinata settled in between both of them. "Gaara told us that he thinks this will help stir something in that memory of yours."
"It has to!" Kankuro piped in. "You used to love these things, Hinata. Seeing Regenbogen, hearing the song - that'll definitely make you remember something!" His grin turned mischievous as he reached over her to poke at Temari. "As long as you don't sing, of course."
"I ain't the only one here who shouldn't be singing!" she snapped. "From what I recall, the whole palace voted you the worst singer of us all!"
As the two bantered, Hinata looked past Temari to see Gaara and Sasuke, talking quietly to each other. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but she saw what Gaara had handed to Sasuke. A small, clear vial, full of sand.
What?
"Oh - look, Hinata!"
Kankuro's cry made her turn back to the horizon just as the sun began to rise, spilling pinks and reds and oranges and yellows across the sky and land. The darker sky above turned indigo and violet as the stars slowly disappeared from view.
The book had been right - the sand did match the sky, and it was like an entire rainbow made up all of Sand 1.
Around them, light came to the city, and Hinata saw the movement of people leaving their houses to bask, finally, in the color of it all. Children played in the oranges as mothers watched from their soft yellows. Vendors counted their money in the calm blues as a few brave teenagers chased away the shadows the lurked in the violets.
Something was caught in the air - beyond the distant chatter and whistle of the gentle breeze. It started dim; a hum shared between a few people. More joined them, picking up an elegant melody that matched so perfectly the entirety of Sand 1 at that moment. Soon, the entire city was singing to this song, shrieking high notes and laughing with the lows.
She . . . knew that song.
Somewhere, somehow, in the back of her mind - or, maybe, beyond that. Past that. Somewhere deeper, further. Somewhere she couldn't reach - and yet, still, she tried. Tried and reached and grasped, until, maybe, she felt -
"-nata - ou . . . . Ar . . . a-wa - pe - fe - m . . . Hin - ta . . . lo . . . u -"
It was still there. She was still there. On that balcony, soaking in the colors of Regenbogen.
"I . . . op - you."
But there was something different. A voice that wasn't supposed to be there. Talking. Humming. Singing with the rest of the city. It laughed the highs and cackled the lows and snickered with anything in between. And then it was there. In front of her, warming her up, taking up her entire universe, and if she looked hard enough, past the rainbow in the sky, or in the ground - maybe, maybe, something was looking back.
Who . . . ?
But she knew who. Somehow, she must have always known.
Naruto.
And there he was, right before her, grinning and laughing and singing and talking -
And she wanted to join him so badly. She wanted to sing with him, to laugh with him, to smile with him - but she couldn't.
". . . Hinata."
Because just when was able to open her mouth, he leaned in and kissed her.
...
Gasping, she pushed away from the railing and stumbled back, vaguely aware of the arms that caught under her own, keeping her under her feet - which, at the moment, she could not feel at all. She was in that sky, floating in the rainbow, not even aware of the people around her, shaking her shoulders, asking if she was okay.
"N-Naruto . . . !"
Her eyes flashed left, then right, searching, scouring. Why would he . . . Her gaze met Gaara's, which smoldered knowingly. How did he . . .
But he wasn't. Never was.
Was that . . . real?
Chapter 8 - End