Dull, pounding pain in her temples, like she had stayed up all night. Her eyes prickling in protest, like they had been exposed to hours of cold, blistering wind. This wasn't strange. Nor were the bandages wrapped around her eyes. Hinata was always undergoing severe training like this, heiress to the strongest in Konoha. This was...what, the tenth time in the past five years this had happened?

Her hands seemed to be pressed into the soft fabric of a futon, so she presumed that Ko or someone else had taken her back into the house when she'd collapsed. If Neji nii-san were still here, he would have worried his voice hoarse. He always approved of her surpassing her limits, but too much eyestrain, beyond a certain level, would in fact be a hindrance. He would have been sure to remind her of that over and over, like a broken record. He was a surprising nag sometimes, especially when it came to her health. She supposed she was lucky, that it wasn't Neji nii-san who had found her.

Then the salty smell of ramen broth tickled her nose, and she scrunched up her face in confusion. Ramen? In the Hyuuga compound in the morning? Strange.

"Oh, Hinata, glad you're awake!" said a dreadfully familiar voice. "I made ramen for breakfast! Um, I didn't know your favorite kind, so I went with miso. You can't go wrong with miso, ya know!"

Her stomach did something like a simultaneous somersault and skydive, leapfrogging to her lungs and down to her knees before settling back down.

This was much, much worse than Neji nii-san finding her and nagging her.

I hate my life.

He was very good, actually. At taking care of her.

He kept bringing her ramen for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. She told him she liked a variety of broths, and he gladly obliged. It wasn't just instant ramen all the time either. No. One day, he set down something on the table with a heavy thunk, and excitedly launched into a ramble of how he had run all the way from Ichiraku to her home with the steaming hot bowl burning his hands (she deeply worried about his common sense when he told her that – did he not know that gloves existed?).

He was quite skillful at first-aid, washing and changing the bandages wrapped around her eyes every few hours. He always warned her to keep her eyes closed when he did this, because too much harsh sunlight would harm her sore, overused Byakugan. She didn't ask him how he knew so much about doujutsu care. She supposed it was one of her relatives who told him, and besides, for a few brief moments, his large, warm hands would brush at her face, and that was worth the embarrassment of him taking care of her.

She didn't know why her clan was allowing him into the compound so often, especially without any complaint, and then she overheard someone talking about how pushy Hanabi was, foisting the cute, stupid sunshine-haired boy on all the Hyuuga for bonding purposes, because "it was all a test to see if he was good brother-in-law material."

She would kill Hanabi later, she decided, and then the room's paper divider slid open.

"Hey, Hinata, Hanabi taught me how to make cinnamon rolls, because they're your favorite, and – "

– and perhaps she wouldn't kill Hanabi after all, she conceded grudgingly.

He guided the warm, steaming rolls into her mouth, and she swore that they never tasted so good before, ever.

Maybe, maybe she didn't hate her life after all. Naruto feeding her cinnamon rolls did beat Neji nii-san finding her and nagging her.

A/N: For the prompt "I can't see." Set after the war. The part about Naruto handling hot objects was inspired by something I read of someone taking pizza right out of the oven with his bare hands, and I thought, "Yeah, that's something Naruto would do."

Tell me what you think. :)