Does Hell … have technology?

The question circled through Hinata's head as she eyed the faucet and knob of her bathtub. Behind her, Sasuke shuffled into her tiny bathroom, the width of his shoulders massive in comparison, and his horns nearly knocked into the door frame as he entered. He was covered in dirt and probably tracked in a bunch when he came into her apartment, but Hinata didn't let the thought bother her much.

She had … more pressing matters to concern herself with.

Such as how, exactly, she was going to get Sasuke into that bath.

"Do you …" Her head tipped back a bit so she could see the outline of his face, "know how to start a bath?"

A simple shake of his head, and Hinata bit her lips together. Okay. No problem. She bent down on her knees and twisted the knob, causing water to blast from the faucet. Her fingers tested the temperature, and when it turned warm, she closed the drainer and watched the bath slowly fill with hot, steaming water. She took a bottle of one of her less-smelly soaps and squirted it into the water, causing bubbles to form and float on the surface.

When she stood, she grabbed her shampoo and conditioner and showed it to Sasuke. "This will clean your hair." She shook the shampoo bottle. "And after you wash it out, use this so that your hair isn't tangled when you get out."

Dark eyes stared for a moment, then he looked up at her. "You do not need to tell me this."

She smiled, shoulders relaxing. "Oh, good. You know what they are, then."

"No." His dirt-covered hands pressed against the sides of the bottle and pushed them against her chest. "You will clean me."

Her heart burst out of her chest and leaped into the soapy water. "I-I-I don't –"

His eyes sharpened. "If you do not, I will not clean myself." And his voice was firm and authoritative. Unyielding. "And then I will ruin this place."

Mouth snapping shut, Hinata peered at the dirt covering him, then glanced over at the running tub.

Desperately, she wanted to put her foot down. 'You wouldn't do that,' she'd tell him. 'You're not that horrible.'

But just earlier that day, he had gone about spraying poor women with the garden hose, grinning, like seeing them suffering was fun for him. He would definitely ruin her apartment. Without hesitation.

So, with a weary look at the tub, Hinata murmured, "… Okay."

Chapter 6

Somehow, I've Grown Used To the Presence of This Sasuke

Rubber gloves under the kitchen sink to keep her hands safe from burning skin? Check.

Thin tank top that she would not miss if it got soaked and/or singed? Check.

Stripping demon in her teeny tiny bathroom that gave her absolutely no room to breathe?

… . Check. Definitely check.

Hinata didn't know where to train her eyes, really. For a while, they were tracing lines into the tile of her floor, but then she caught sight of the pool of black fabric around dusty hooves and squeaked in horror. Then, she tried looking at the wall, but when her gaze accidentally flickered to the mirror and she caught sight of the carved line going down the middle of his bare back, she decided that, too, was a dangerous place to look. Thus, with a hot face that could match the humid air, she spun on her heels.

And, sure, she couldn't see him directly; but she definitely could see his shadow as he smoothly and slowly removed every item of clothing off his body.

God, why? Her eyes squeezed shut as she listened to the shuffle of fabric behind her. Why did you have to bring me this demon, out of all of them?

"You aren't looking."

She had to check, and – yes – her lungs had just stopped working.

"I-I really don't w-want to look," she sputtered.

The heavy thudding of his hooves approaching her made the bathroom feel smaller and hotter. Her shoulders arched around her neck when he spoke, sounding too close and too normal in such a situation. "That's a pity."

"D-Did you take everything off?"

"Yes." His breath whispered through her hair, making it tumble over her ears, and she had to press her front against the door to get some distance between them. "Now what?"

Pushing a hand back to gesture at the tub, she whispered, "Get in, please."

When he moved away, she felt like she could finally breathe again. Barely, but at least some oxygen was reaching her lungs. The thunking moved to the other side of the room, then sloshing water sounded as he entered the tub.

"You can turn around."

She did, but her eyes remained on the tile. "Are you all the way in?"

"Yes," he huffed. "Hurry up. It's small."

Hinata stepped over the pile of dirty clothes in the middle of the bathroom and took a quick, cautious peek. His body was mostly submerged in water, from what she could see, but even in her short glance, she could see more than just his white skin.

"Your … feathers."

"What about them?"

This time, when she looked, she stared. The black feathers she thought were connected to his cloak were still there, on him. They covered his right shoulder and reached the top of his elbow, where they stretched, long and thin. The ones on his chest were smaller, and when she peeked behind him, she saw there were some on his back, creeping up the length of his neck.

"They're a part of you," she breathed, surprised.

He watched her for a moment, then said, "Go ahead."

Ah, right.

Pulling her gloves up to her elbows, Hinata got on her knees and grabbed a sponge, dipping it in the water and squirting soap on it before scrubbing his left, featherless shoulder.

When he shivered, she stopped. "A-Are you alright?"

His jaw was set and still, eyes staring forward.

He wasn't saying anything, but Hinata already had a guess. He was cold. Despite ribbons of steam dancing off the water, he was cold, and Hinata went back to scrubbing the dirt off his boiling skin.

…

Somehow, his hair was … really smooth.

Hinata first noticed such when her arm accidentally touched the back of his head when she was shampooing his hair. It didn't burn, and when she pulled off her right glove to feel it, the strands were almost silky.

"What?" he sighed upon her pause in cleaning him. His head was tilted back a bit, chin jutting forward, and whenever she'd peek at his face, she found it was without that hard frown and pointed look to his eyes.

If anything, he looked relaxed.

Which made sense, she supposed, as she doubted demons often had baths in Hell.

"Nothing, sorry," she said, pulling her rubber glove back on.

…

"Face me, please."

He turned his whole body her way, legs crossed in front of him in order to fit in the small tub.

As his hair soaked in the shampoo, she decided to try and see if his feathers would work with shampoo, as well. Pooling some in her hands, Hinata leaned over and began to scrub the feathers on his shoulder, then on his arm.

Then … on his chest.

Which was weird and way too intimate, she was sure. Washing someone's hair was one thing. But their chest … well … .

And the fact that he wouldn't stop staring wasn't helping, either.

"You're embarrassing me," she whispered, bowing her head.

"That's not my fault," he said, leaning forward a bit, causing her hand to press more against his chest. It was then she realized … she felt no heartbeat. Maybe that made sense. Demons wouldn't have hearts, she supposed. "You're the only one that feels that way."

That wasn't a shocker, and with a sigh, she pulled her plastic bowl over, filled it with water, and poured it over his chest. He shivered, and Hinata felt a little better.

…

"Lean your head back, Sasuke."

He did without complaint, and she pulled the shower head down and made it so that hot water would run from it. One hand on his forehead to keep water and soap from washing into his face, the other holding the shower head over his hair, Hinata began to clean out the soap from his hair.

When she was done, she placed the head back and poured conditioner into her gloved hands and began to run it through his hair.

"Slower," he muttered after a minute.

Hinata blinked. "Am I hurting you?"

Sasuke clicked his tongue. "Like you could hurt me."

Blushing, Hinata turned back to her work, making sure to keep her movements slow and easy.

…

When she scrubbed at his horns, a giggle somehow escaped her lips.

His dark, narrow eyes peered up at her. "What?"

"N-Nothing. It's just …" Her lips turned in a sheepish smile. "Well, you don't look exactly like what we thought demons would look like. We imagined red skin and glowing, yellow eyes, not feathers or five-fingered hands. But … we did get the horns right, I suppose. Unless … well … ."

When the silence stretched, his frown tightened. "Finish your sentence."

Ears turning red, Hinata glanced away. "Well … um … unless you have a tail. Then we would have gotten that right, too."

He said nothing, and she was scared she had offended him, somehow.

"S-Sorry, I –"

But when she looked back, he didn't look upset at all.

"Tail." In fact, his twisted smirk almost took up his entire face as he leaned forward, water sloshing around his abdomen. "If you're so curious, then check for yourself."

Her skin felt as hot as his, and she removed the sponge from his horns and quickly stood. "You're clean! U-Um, get out whenever you want. I'll drain the water and, um –" Her gaze spotted his clothes, and she swooped down and took them in her arms. "I'll put these in the wash for you."

When she left that humid room full of steaming water and rolling body temperature, she didn't feel any cooler, and Hinata had to count her breaths as she went to drop his clothes in her washer.

…

She was used to smelling sulfur in the morning.

"Hinata."

But that morning, when she was being gently coaxed out of slumber, she smelled the ocean.

Right. Her shampoo. He smelled just like it.

And … his voice sounded different, too.

It was something subtle. Something barely there. The pitch was maybe a tad lighter, or his words a little less terse. Maybe his voice came more from his chest or the ending drag of his speech was less droned, but there was a definite difference.

And the fact that she had grown so used to that voice, that scent, that she could smell and hear the differences that morning was … weird.

When her eyes opened, she immediately noticed the sunlight.

What?

No five-in-the-morning, rise-before-the-sun wake up?

Sitting up, she rubbed at her eyes, which didn't feel drowsy or heavy at all.

"Good morning," she said, stretching her arms over her head.

"Good morning."

That's … odd. Sasuke never said it back. She supposed it was half because Hell didn't have the same, human social etiquette and half because he just didn't care.

So what made today so different?

And when she looked over, she had an idea as to why.

He was … glowing. The sunlight cascading through the curtains made his skin shine, his horns glimmer, his hair gleam. Even the dark, shadowed depths of his eyes seemed lighter, somehow.

His posture was lax and his expression cool. No pursed lips. No frustrated lines.

"You seem … different," she said after a moment, stepping onto the warm floorboards. "Did something happen?"

His eyes followed her as she went to the closet. "Shall you bathe this morning?"

She felt so refreshed that she didn't need one to wake her up. But due to Sasuke hogging all of the hot water last night, she didn't really get the chance to scrub the sweat and grime off herself. "Yes, I'd like to before classes and work."

He gave a sure nod and marched to the bathroom door.

"Then I shall join you."

What!? "No!"

"It is decided," he said.

Throwing her planned outfit on the bed, she ran to the bathroom.

"Not together," she begged, cheeks red and eyes wide. "I-I need my privacy."

"Privacy is a social construct," he said, frowning. "As is timidity. It is not real. It is not fact. You do not need it."

She ducked under his arm and stepped between him and the shower. "I-I do need it," she said. "If you do not give me privacy, Sasuke, I'll never wash your hair again." His eyes widened a fraction, and she knew she got his attention. "Ever."

He huffed, steam escaping his nose, before he turned away. "Humans are difficult," he muttered. "He was right. That fucking forbidden fruit shit was too much of a hassle."

He left, still glowing, somehow, but his slim eyes told her he was anything but relaxed.

…

When she was making her dinner for work later that morning, he sat on the counter, watching her. There was a skip in her step, she was sure he noticed, but she couldn't help it. It was spring. Classes were going well. She had a whole garden to plan and grow. She felt refreshed and ready for the day, and –

"You're different."

Well, she wasn't the only one.

Hinata didn't know what happened, exactly – but there was a change. Something between them changed. Maybe it happened during the bath last night, or sometime in her dreams, but something definitely changed.

And Sasuke seemed to be aware of it, too.

When she skirted past him, he grabbed her sleeve with his gloved hand, stopping her momentarily to look at her.

"Your face is different," he said.

She laughed from her belly. "I hope that's a good thing."

That time, his shock was clear on his face.

Yes, indeed, he had changed – somehow. That horrible demon that followed her and ruined her gardens and messed up her work was different. He smelled different. He sounded different. He looked different. And –

"Oh –"

When he leaned over and pressed his mouth to her parted lips, she realized that while most of him seemed different, there were still parts of him that were the same. Like the smoky, bitter taste of his lips … .

Or the burning touch of his mouth.

A pained hiss zipped past her lips as she snapped her head back. Stumbling back, she quickly went to the sink and poured cool water over her mouth.

"S-Sasuke," she sputtered, turning off the water and turning to him, "that hurts."

His hooves slammed against the floorboards as he stood.

"Why do you keep doing that?" she asked. "Kissing someone like that … I don't know what it means where you're from, but here, it means –"

"Love," he answered, eyes pointed.

Her lips throbbed with her heart. "Y … yes." Her voice fell, low and slow, as she began to connect the pieces together. No, she tried to tell herself. There's no way he could – "This is going too fast. I'm a second-year in college. I have grades and a job and gardens to worry about – not – not demons. And even if I – even if you weren't – it's still off. We skipped over dates and getting to know each other and –"

"Dating is a concept you humans made up," he droned. "It is not necessary. You do not need it."

Her heart rumbled in her stomach. "I'm a human," she said. "This is how I do things. You do not understand privacy or dating or the likes, but for me … it's very important to me."

For a while, Sasuke looked down on her, eyes scrutinizing and lips twisted in a sneer, the tips of his fangs gleaming in the white light of the kitchen's fluorescents. Then, without much of a word to her, he turned, traced his fingers down the sides of the fridge door, and swung it open to reveal hellfire and smog and blasting heat and moans of the damned. He stepped in, and if Hinata weren't so startled and worried, she would have laughed at the sight of it all.

The door slammed behind him, and when she opened it, nothing but her empty fridge doors and dour coldness met her.

…

"What the hell?"

When she went to return Sasuke Uchiha's recorder to him, his entire face twisted with disgust.

"U-Um." She wrung her hands together. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, you." He turned his face away from her. "God, what did you roll in this morning? I said to sleep well, not sleep in an actual well."

Aghast, Hinata pulled her sleeve to her nose and smelled the cotton.

Sulfur.

Smoky and harsh and bitter.

Shuddering, Hinata murmured an apology that made Sasuke's lips tip, and she left that library to go roll in the mud or do something to get that smell off of her.

Chapter 6 - End