Gripping the metal handrail at the base of the staircase, Sasuke doesn't fight against the current of apprehension threatening to drown him.

He made a vow to never set foot again in Naruto's home. The simple wooden door above him is a reminder of his biggest failure. His failure to reciprocate the only romantic love he has ever known in a timely manner. He always thought he would have time. But time waits on no one and apparently neither does Naruto.

He doesn't blame his blonde lover for moving on. Sasuke's lengthy absence and unwillingness to commit offered Naruto little to no stability. But deep down he naively believed their bond wouldn't fall victim to the rules regulating the average couple.

He was wrong, as he often is when it comes to the people he loves.

He takes his time mounting each step, anger brewing with each stride. He knows his anger isn't justifiable. He is the villain in this story.

The woman his lover chose to marry is not at fault for his current precarious predicament. But he can't help but to loathe her. He doesn't want to share his love. He has always been selfish with things he cared about. And Naruto is his. Should only be his.

The power she has over him is not something he can willingly accept. How could someone as weak as a rejected heir be in the position to control the fate of Uchiha Sasuke? He blames her stronghold over Naruto on biology. Biology has offered her a trump card. She can provide Naruto with the one thing the blonde has longed for since childhood. A family.

His knuckles hit the wooden door. Under the strain of the heavy knock, the door squeaks open a few inches.

Sasuke knows it's wrong of him to be hopeful that she fell victim to the evils of this sketchy neighborhood. He fights off these negative thoughts by reminding himself of the precious cargo she is carrying.

Before stepping into the small apartment, he inspects the door. Paying close attention to the lock and hinges. Both appear to be intact, which most likely means the unlocked door was not the result of a home invasion.

Selfish thoughts once again invade his mind, though not as nefarious as the previous. He dares to dream that the unlocked door is a sign that Hinata has decided to end the marriage on her own volition. With her gone, he could properly make amends for his past mistakes.

Removing his sandals, Sasuke steps into the living room. It's as he remembers but with a few feminine touches. He picks up a purple, crochet cushion from the floor and rests it on the worn, faded beige couch. Moving to the spotless kitchen, he makes note that the sink is dry and the counters are bare.

Turning to his left, he faces the hallway leading to the single bedroom and bath. He notices the handbag first, then the body it's still attached to.

Reluctantly, he moves forward.

He resists the urge to lightly kick the sleeping body awake.

"Hyuga." Sasuke refuses to accept her legal surname.

"Hyuga," he tries again, but a response doesn't follow.

Stooping down, he shakes the petite woman awake. Pale, puffy, bloodshot eyes dart open.

Apprehensive with a hint of anger, her eyes search his face and then her surroundings. Her gaze then goes to the arm still on her shoulder. Firmly, she shakes off his arm and slides across a few inches away.

Looking into the bedroom, she asks, "Why are you here?"

Standing once again, Sasuke offers her his hand, "Why do you think?"

She shakes her head at the offer of help. Placing her palm on the wall, she tries to lift herself off the floor but slides back down.

With an annoyed gruff, he bends forward. He is about to loop his arm around her waist to pull her up, but she scutters forward on hands and knees. Reaching up to the bedroom door handle, she uses it as leverage to pull herself into a standing position.

"Naruto asked you to check up on me." She states matter-of-factly.

"Yeah." He watches in silence as she takes careful steps toward the bathroom, hands still on the wall to keep her balanced.

"Thank you for your concern. You can tell him I'm fine." The bathroom door shuts close.

Sasuke doesn't know if he should be relieved not to have to deal with a furious, betrayed woman or be fearful of her dismissive attitude.

Now that he's done his part and fulfilled his promise to Naruto, he decides it's time to leave. She doesn't want his help, and if he's being honest, he doesn't want to provide it.

He walks back to the front door, trying to ignore the never-ending muffled retching behind the wooden door.

"Fuck!" He curses lowly, dropping the sandals he only moments ago retrieved from the floor.

Stalking over to the kitchen, he rummages through the cupboards. Ramen. Ramen. More ramen, spices and salt.

He opens the short white paneled, fridge, which is mostly bare except for a carton of soy milk, bread, condiments and a tomato. His stomach rumbles at the sight of the red fruit, but he continues his search. Hunching over, he finds what he is looking for in the crisp draw.


"You're still here?" Hinata emerges from the bathroom, now dressed in a thick, white bathroom. The wet tendrils of thick, black, wet hair draping over her chest, barely conceal protruding collarbones.

Noticing his lingering gaze, Hinata pulls her robe tighter around her frail body.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Her lips turn up questioningly. It's absurd of him to ask any questions related to her wellbeing given his role in her life, but he continues. "I told Naruto I would make sure you are okay, and you don't look okay. You look sick. Unhealthy."

"Thank you, but you don't need to concern yourself with my-"

Sasuke cuts her, by handing her a hot cup of tea, "Drink this."

The look of disbelief return, but now it's paired with suspicion.

"It's not poison." He tells himself that she should know that he doesn't need to resort to such cowardly methods if he wanted to get rid of her.

She brings the white, ceramic cup to her nose, "You made me ginger tea!?"

"It's supposed to help with-"he points to her stomach, "pregnancy."

"Morning sickness," Hinata corrects. "But it's not enough. Nothing seems to be enough." Hinata takes a sip of the hot beverage, "Thank you, but you really didn't have to. Since you've come all this way, the least I can do is repay you with breakfast."

She wanted to repay him with breakfast? Why was she now acting like this was a social call?

For a moment he questions the events that transpired last night. Was he mistaken about the unwanted revelation? Memory of her aghast expression when she emerged from under the table resurfaces. It was the look of a woman utterly betrayed by her spouse. She knows.

Maybe the betrayal was too much for her to handle and she had simply lost her mind, and now she was out to poison him.

Like a hawk, he scrutinizes each and every single movement, as she bends over to grab the juicy tomato from the fridge, to her washing, cutting, frying and serving it to him on a plate with a few slices of bread.

He doesn't join her at the dining table. He eats his breakfast leaning against the kitchen counter, while she sits at the dining table drinking the tea he brewed. The simple meal is delicious, but he doesn't attribute it to her cooking. He would never pay her that compliment.

"I'll take care of it," she grabs his plate and utensils as soon as he is finished eating. He interprets this as an indicator that she is ready for him to leave.

Noting that her gait is normal, and overall she seems to be strong enough to converse and go about everyday tasks, he relinquishes the need to determine if she is okay.

"The meal was filling," he pauses.

Sasuke is unable to see her face from where he is standing at the kitchen counter, but the heaving of her shoulders reveal her emotional state. From this angle he can view steadfast efforts to clean an already squeaky-clean plate. She scrubs and scrubs at an invisible spot.

"How long?"

Hinata drops the plate into the drying rack and picks up the paring knife she used to slice the tomato. Holding it under the flowing water, she asks again, "How long, Uchiha-San?"

He has an idea of what she is asking, but it's not his place to divulge that information.

The water continues to gush from the tap, when Hinata backs away a few inches from the sink. Her wet hands fall to her sides. A flicker of silver catches his eyes.

"Put the knife down. You are only going to get yourself hurt."

Hinata's body pivots slowly to face Sasuke, "How long has he been in love with you?"

Her left-hand wipes away unrestrained tears, while her right clutches on to the blade of the kitchen knife.

Sasuke winces as bright, red blood oozes from her palm.

"Did he ever love me?" Her hopeless eyes seek his, begging for comfort.

Drip.

A drop of crimson liquid hits the white tiled floor.

Sasuke rushes to her side, snatching the knife out of her bloody hand.

Hinata appears to be more agonized by Sasuke's proximity than the wound she has inflicted on herself.

Sasuke flings the knife into the sink. The sharp clatter of steel against steel causes her to jump. Stupefied, Hinata brings her injured palm up at eye level. The fog of emotion recedes, allowing her to understand her unconscious actions.

Her unbloodied hand drapes over her stomach. She doubles over, silent sobs wracking through her body.

Sasuke is stunned into silence at the pure display of anguish that he is responsible for. Guilt begins to creep into his bones. His pursuit of happiness was selfish with no regard for the innocent woman legally bound to his lover.

He can now include heartbreak on his list of crimes. He wonders how he will atone for this misdeed.

"Come!" He says in a hushed tone, tugging her closer to the kitchen sink. She follows his lead without resistance.

Sasuke washes her laceration under the flowing water.

"Where is your first aid kit."

Hinata stares at him blankly.

"Is this clean?" He asks gesturing to the tea towel hanging off the stove.

Hitched breathing is the only sound emanating from the emotional woman.

The cotton fabric is wrapped around Hinata's bleeding palm. He places her left palm onto it, "Keep applying pressure to it." Hinata pulls away from him and walks toward her bedroom.

He sighs in frustration. As much as he doesn't want to be there, he knows it's dangerous for a person in crisis to be unattended to.

Sasuke unwillingly trails a few feet behind.

Hinata flops on the bed, burying herself under the covers, probably try to block out reality and the morning sunrays. Even under the covers, her sobs grow louder.

The mattress dips under Sasuke's weight as he sits on the other side of the bed. Hinata peeks out from under the covers, "Why are you still here?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he tells her, "I'll leave when you've calmed down."

Groaning, she flips to the other side of the bed, ducking back under the covers.

For the first time since the affair began, resentment toward his partner begins to grow. Naruto is just as guilty as he is, but he is not here to pick up the broken pieces of his wife's broken heart.