Oh hey, look at me, updating. This chapter was both easy and difficult to write – I've had bits of it in my head for a while, but trying to get it right was a nightmare. I'm still not convinced.

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, and thank you so much to Guest, you really put a smile on my face!

Chapter 21 – shadows and dreams

Hinata Speaks.

By the time I emerge from the training room, Gaara has left, and I don't know whether to feel relieved or saddened by the fact. Neji is waiting for me, having already cleaned and packed the guns away, and we walk towards the kitchen in companionable silence.

Gaara isn't in the living room either, and I do my best to ignore the disappointed bubble in my throat. "Where's Gaara?" I manage to ask Neji, and he shrugs.

"Probably in the guard's room," he says, not meeting my eye. "What do you want to eat?"

I shrug, and reply with, "Whatever. I'm not fussed."

He rolls his eyes. "Very helpful, Hinata."

I offer him a smile. "I aim to please."

He busies himself making sandwiches, and I sit on the couch, turning the television on, though I don't pay attention. Gaara's eyes are haunting me. They're such a peculiar shade of seafoam green, I've never seen anything quite like them. If I look closely, sometimes I can catch the smallest flecks of silver and gold in them, though only in certain lights. And his stare while we were training… no one has ever looked at me like that. It was like he was trying to etch my face into his memory. There are secrets in his eyes, a history and mysteries that I wish I could learn. And sadness. Gods, I've never seen such sadness in a person's eyes before. It's as if the weight of the world has planted itself like ghosts in his eyes, trapped behind walls of pretence and denial. I can't even begin to imagine the things he has seen – the things he has done – to warrant such things.

But there's beauty in them too. Like a flower encased in ice – beautiful and devastating, all at once.

Neji interrupts my musings with a plate of sandwiches, which I eat without thought. We practise shooting for a few more hours afterwards – still no Gaara – and I manage to hit three more bullseyes before we wrap up. I wish Gaara had been there to see. I would have known to look for that brief spark of pride in his carefully guarded eyes if he had been.

But instead I help Neji pack the guns away, and eat some soup for dinner, before retiring to bed.

My bedroom always feels colder than anywhere else on the floor. I don't know if it's my imagination or not, but I've never been brave enough to ask Neji or Tenten about it. To the left of my door is the freshly painted wall where the bullet hit – a patch just a shade brighter than the surrounding area – and I shudder as I look away. I always tell myself that I won't look at that area next time, and I always fail to do so. It's not good to remind myself of that night, but I can never help myself. Just knowing that it was nearly my head that that bullet buried itself into rather than my wall makes me want to be ill. And while I try to pretend that it doesn't affect me so much anymore, it's the complete opposite.

I enter my bathroom, trying to ignore the patched-up bullet hole as I go, and shower, letting the scalding water wash away memories and fears and trauma for a few precious moments. But the instant I step out it all floods back like a tidal wave, and I'm once again reminded of who I am and where I am and what's happening.

I am Hinata Hyuuga, daughter of Hiashi Hyuuga, heir to the Hyuuga Clan.

And I am being hunted by the deadliest assassin in the world.

The Demon is like smoke. At least Itachi Uchiha has a face and a name. Somehow that makes him less terrifying. But the Demon? The only trace the Demon has left behind is a body count.

Tenten is using her time in hospital to attempt to further hack into the Uchiha's database, but she's having little luck. But if we could just get anything, anything at all, we'd at least know who to look out for.

I shake my head, as if that can fling the cyclical thoughts from my mind. It does no good to dwell on what I can't control. I brush the tangles out of my hair and position it to hide the ugly pink scar on my temple – where the bullet grazed me – and walk into my room, where Neji is already laying on the futon near my bed. I give him a weary smile, grateful for his presence, even though it does nothing, and climb into bed. He dims the lights as I fall into a fitful sleep.

The dream is the same as it always is, though I know I can do nothing to change it. I'm in my room, and I'm alone, though I can hear screams emanating from all around me. Cracks gape at me from the walls, with bullets sprayed through the paint like freckles on a face. Smoke licks my ankles, thick and bruised, and I can't even make out my feet.

"Neji?" I whisper. The light in my room is on but it's dull, muted, like fabric has been draped across it. "Tenten?"

I receive no reply but for the echoing screams. Determined to find them, I try to move towards my door, but my feet are stuck, as if nailed to the floor.

"Neji?" I call, desperation a trill in my voice. "Tenten?" I try to move my legs, search around myself for a weapon, but anything not concealed by smoke is out of reach, and the more I struggle the more my feet seem to stick to the floor.

But then, the smoke shifts, as if it has sluggishly gained sentience. And slowly, achingly slowly, it coalesces into the shape of a man.

Then Neji is beside me, blood dripping from the side of his mouth, his body littered with gunshot wounds. "He's coming, Hinata," he says, his voice a bloody gurgle, before he falls dead at my feet.

Tenten appears at my other side, knives and kunai and shuriken embedded deep in her flesh. "He's here, Hinata," she rasps, coughing blood onto my face, before she too slumps over, dead. Their blood pools at my feet, congealing between my toes, and I find I've lost my voice.

The figure of shadows and smoke starts to move towards me, its steps achingly slow. Twice as tall as a regular person, swirling smoke in its sockets in place of eyes, an ugly gash rent across its head where a mouth should go. I wish it would hurry. I just want it to be over. I want to die with Neji and Tenten and Hanabi. Maybe then there will be peace.

But something changes in this dream, a deviation from the norm. Gaara appears in front of me, placing himself between me and the Demon. He is untouched, hands in his pockets, his weapon's belt gone.

"I'm here, Hinata," he says, a smirk in his voice, and I want to cry in relief that at least he's okay, but before I can the Demon slices its hand straight through his chest, and blood bubbles from his mouth and flowers on his shirt, and I watch as the ghosts leave his eyes and death takes their place.

I wake up screaming.

I don't see Gaara again until that afternoon. I'd been practising my shooting with Neji all morning (five bullseyes!) and decided to rest my arms by curling up in front of a movie, cup of tea in hand and biscuits on the coffee table. Neji is sitting on the opposite lounge, not paying attention to the movie at all, and I'm so engrossed I don't even notice Gaara walk in at first. But as soon as I do, I wave him over and pat the seat next to me, inviting him to sit down.

"Come watch the movie with us," I say, a smile on my face. I always feel better with Gaara in the room, though I can never quite place why.

"I'm pretty sure it's just you who's watching the movie, Hinata," says Neji, absorbed in his phone.

Gaara lifts his brow in puzzled amusement at the exchange.

"Fine, come watch the movie with me," I offer, exasperated.

"What're you watching?" Gaara asks, sitting on the far end of my couch. I can feel my brow furrowing at that, and wish he would have sat closer.

"One of my favourites," I tell him. "Pride and Prejudice. Have you seen it before?"

Neji gives a snort of laughter from the other couch and I shoot him a quick glare before turning back to Gaara.

"Can't say I have," he tells me, looking entertained. "I've never really been one for movies."

I can feel my face fall. "Well watch this one with me then, you might like it!"

"I seriously doubt that," Neji interjects before Gaara can offer his opinion. "It's a romance," he explains to Gaara.

"Just because it's a romance, doesn't mean it's bad," I say, defending the movie. "Pride and Prejudice is a classic. Just because it's not full of violence and gore, doesn't mean it's bad."

Neji rolls his eyes, having had this argument with me dozens of times, and Gaara leans back into the lounge, turning his eyes to the screen. I take a sip of my tea and keep watching.

Gaara stays quiet, sitting ramrod straight, almost as if he's afraid to relax with Neji around. I'm not surprised, though I wish he would relax, just once. There's always a tightness to his jaw, and hardness in his eyes, tension around his shoulders to give him away – even when he's pretending to be at ease. I find myself wanting to smooth the strain away from his muscles, ease the perpetual frown on his lips –

– and quickly shake the thought away. No good can come from thoughts like that. Gaara is tasked with keeping me alive. Bringing feelings into the equation is not a good idea.

Neji's phone slices through my thoughts, the ringtone blaring, and I jump about a foot in the air. Neji frowns a moment, looks at me, looks at Gaara, back to me, back to Gaara, then to his phone. He narrows his eyes. "I have to take this," he says, and I nod, reaching forward to pause the movie. "In private," he clarifies, and my fingers stop in their tracks. "Gaara," he grates out, and I can see the effort it takes for him to ask his question. "Could you watch Hinata for the next few minutes? I'll just be in the hall."

Gaara nods slowly, keeping his gaze on Neji, who hesitates a moment, then stands up. "Hinata, yell out if you need anything. I'll stay close."

I give him a smile, though it's strained. We both know who's on the end of that line: my father. He's the only person Neji will leave me to talk to. "Go on," I encourage, "He'll get angry if you keep him waiting."

Neji nods and walks out of the room, around the wall and into the corridor. I can hear his voice muffled as he answers the phone, though I can't make out what he's saying.

And then it's just Gaara and I, sitting alone on the couch. I fidget with my fingers and pretend not to notice as he looks at me, a spark of indecision in his eyes, though I can't begin to guess why it's there.

"Are you enjoying the movie?" I ask, turning back to face the screen. Elizabeth has just gone to meet Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and found that Mister Darcy is there too.

"I'm not really good with this old-timey language," he replies. "I can't really work out what's going on."

"We could put on another movie if you'd prefer?" I offer, though I'd really rather not change it. He shakes his head and I try to hide my relief.

"This is fine, you obviously like it." He settles back into the couch and I watch some of the tension slip from his shoulders, as if a Neji-sized weight has been lifted from them.

"What kind of movies do you normally like watching?" I ask, wanting to keep the conversation going. I haven't been alone with Gaara since the time I snuck out to see him in the library, and he's a lot more forthcoming these days.

He turns back to look at me, that indecision glinting in his eyes again, and he seems to look at something above my head. "I don't really watch them. I've always been too focussed on other things."

"Like what?"

He hesitates for a moment, just a moment, but it's like a whole story weighs on that hesitation. "Like staying alive," he offers eventually, cryptically, though he doesn't elaborate.

"And how has that worked out for you?" I question, shuffling forward, keeping a close ear on Neji.

Gaara shrugs, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. "Life is a lot more stubborn than I'd anticipated."

"Well if it's half as stubborn as you then I'm not surprised," I quip, letting a teasing smile play on my face.

He smirks at that, and turns away from me. "You have no idea."

I don't like that he's turned away, and search my head for something else to say, some other form of conversation to keep between us. "How did you get so good at fighting?" I eventually ask, figuring it's reasonable enough.

He shrugs again, though I notice that the tension is back. "At first it was just survival. I was the smallest in my class at school; the bigger boys would pick on me. I figured I could fight them or I could cower and let them walk all over me. I chose to fight, but I wasn't very good at it. After Matsuri… the foster family put me in proper lessons. Helped me work out my anger and teenage angst and they knew I was fighting at school. They knew they couldn't stop it so they figured they'd at least help me win."

He doesn't quite meet my eyes as he tells me that, and I feel like he's rehearsed the line. Like the real truth would be too ugly to bear.

"What about you?" he asks in return, finally meeting my eyes. "When did you learn how to fight?"

I smile and shrug, inching closer again. "All Hyuuga are taught how to fight, and Aikido seemed to just suit me, I guess. I started when I was five, and it took me forever to progress, but I did over time. Neji really helped me, and Tenten. My father isn't… he isn't a patient man. He didn't like how long it took me to learn new techniques and get stronger, but Neji was kind. There was another man, Ko, and he was the most gentle and patient man you could ever meet. He taught me most of what I know. But he died a few years ago in a skirmish. Neji refined everything Ko taught me, and here I am."

"And your flute?" he asks, and I blush a little.

"Oh, well," I say, trying to think back. "Father took Hanabi and I to a concert when we were little, and there was this flute solo. I thought it was the most beautiful instrument I'd ever heard, and I begged father to let me learn. He said no for the longest time, but eventually he gave in. He bought me a flute and found me a teacher and told me that if I was able to take myself to and from my lessons he would pay for them and anything else I needed, so I did."

"And what do you love about the flute now?" he presses, turning himself to face me.

I think for a moment before answering. "I… I love how expressive it is. You wouldn't think it, just listening to it, but you can do so much with the flute. I can make it sound so happy, or sad, or angry. I can make it scream and I can make it sing. I can bend the notes to make it sound haunting and trill them so that it sounds like a bird. I love turning the music into a story, and I love figuring out what story the music needs me to play."

I've shuffled forward again until I'm mere inches away – I can count his eyelashes and the creases around his mouth. "What's something you love?" I can't fight this need to know more about him – to know him. He's a complete enigma. I feel like I know so little about him. He's a closed book that I'm itching to open and read. His eyes hold so many ghosts, I can feel myself drowning in them.

He searches my eyes and I can feel his breath tickle my face. I could swear he doesn't know how to answer; the barest furrow worries his brow and his mouth is turned down ever so slightly. "I –"

But he's saved needing to answer by Neji coming quickly back around the corner, phone clasped tightly in his hand. We spring apart, and I attempt to keep a guilty look off my face, feeling as if I'd been caught committing some kind of crime, which is ridiculous. Talking to Gaara isn't a crime. Neji looks between the two of us suspiciously, but after a while he can find nothing wrong. He says nothing to me of my father, and I almost feel glad for it. I don't want to know about my father.

I watch as Neji takes his place on the second couch and opens his phone back up, ignoring the movie. Gaara stands and walks towards the kitchenette, and I continue watching the movie, sipping my cold tea.

I hope you enjoyed the Gaara-Hinata chats this chapter, they haven't had a chance to properly talk in a while. More GaaHina moments coming up in the next few chapters, so definitely something to look forward to. And will he kill her? Won't he? We shall find out soon enough!

I also wanted to let you guys know that this story is going to be shorter than I was originally planning for it to be. It's just taking me too long to finish it, and I'm sure that's frustrating for all of us. I've never spent so long on a single story before, and it's really bugging me. There will definitely be Gaara/Hinata romance coming up in the near future, so don't worry about that! I haven't written them being all fluffy for years, so I'm looking forward to that.

Okay, I've rambled long enough. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you're all doing wonderfully. Please consider leaving a review, they give me inspiration like nothing else and I adore hearing from you all :)

Lots of love,

Alia xoxo