Brushes of Loneliness

You have no idea how much I struggled to get this done. The Hatori's two parts was easy, but of everything I've written so far, Naruto's part was actually the hardest, and I still don't like the way it turned out, nor the way the chapter ends.

I had, at first, planned for it to go this way: a part on Tsuki, a part on Ayano/Tsubaki, a part on Naruto and a last on Sasuke discovering the compound in ruins, with Tsuki's reaction to the Uchiha massacre. But due to the way I wrote the first part, I was unable to find a right transition and I didn't want to change it, so I'm blatantly going to cheat by dividing this chapter in two shorter parts. Sorry!

It may looks as if nothing happens in this chapter. That is because the crucial part actually centers on the Hatori couple, and either you've picked up the clues and it's a major revelation, or you haven't and that means I should have made it more obvious. Drop a review about it?

Author Note on Hatori Tsubaki at the bottom, for those who don't want spoilers before reading.

Enjoy~

XxxX~Chapter 5: Souls of glass ~XxxX

Her pen is slow as it moves on the page, ink sometimes dribbling down its pointed tip and right on her drawing, marring it with dark splotches. She can't bring herself to care; they seemed to fit right in with her mood as she gazes down in silence, staring endlessly at the sorrowful lines she's trying to sketch. Whenever the mood struck her, she liked to sprawl herself on her stomach, right in the middle of the hall, and stare at the artful lines she could produce, amazed and proud beyond belief of that one skill which, while useless for a ninja, still made her better than anyone else. She loved finding that reluctant respect and admiration in the maids' eyes, loved how much like everything else she did, it brought her the reverence and awe she rightfully deserved. That and, curiously enough, this was perhaps the one skill Ayano actually encouraged her to practice and better. Not that she actually drew for her, of course. Not at all. Not the tiniest bit. Because she definitely did not crave her mother's approval, nope, no way. But today, of all days, was different.

Today saw Tsuki curled up on her side, a pen loosely held in her right hand as she drew on the notebook in front of her, staring at it sideways in silent sorrow. The windows of her room are wide open, leaving a stream of light to brighten her room, if not her mood. Not a week ago, the hour would have seen her sparing with Sasuke, bettering her skills and sharing their mutual dislike for their slow and dumb classmates. But ever since their clash three days ago, the Uchiha had kept his distance, seemingly in a perpetually foul mood she had not dared approach. And he had made no move to apologize for his incredibly hurtful comment the day before, not even in his subtle, I-won't-say-I-am-sorry-but-you-can-tell-I-am prideful Uchiha way. The Hatori heiress didn't know where she stood with him anymore, and seeing as he'd been, when she actually thought about it, her only friend…it left her feeling lonely, rejected. And she hadn't even done anything wrong.

Wide, sorrowful eyes met hers on her sketch, and she turned herself away, tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. Sasuke wasn't the only source of her misery; Uzumaki Naruto was the other, bigger, bleeding half of it. She'd been convinced her decision to distance herself from him had been the right one. Rejection was not something she took to easily, and self-preservation always came first. He was not worth trading her comfortable lifestyle, respect and admiration she had for. He was not, of that she was certain. But it was neither easy nor comfortable, and it left a bad taste in her mouth and heart, if the sketch she'd absent-mindedly drawn was any indication. She had not lied to Sasuke, telling him she felt guilty. But she knew why she felt this way. Because this was exactly what Sasuke had done to her, and you did not abandon the people you'd started to care about without feeling the slightest bit guilty afterwards. That had been her big revelation of the day, too.

Somewhere along the way, she'd grown to care for the blond brat. His goofy smile, his playful disposition, the depth of his cerulean eyes…there was just something that drew her to him, she didn't know what. It felt like an echo, like something she knew so intimately within herself had been reflected in his behavior, his voice, his thoughts. As though they had been twins, born on two sides of the mirror, two sides of the same coin. And if they were, and felt, so similar, it made her wonder. How alike were they? Did people actually talk in her back the way they did to Naruto's face? Did they smile when she walked by, only to sneer and curse when she turned away? Or was their disdain artfully masked, hidden away beneath layers upon layers of fake admiration and respect? But Sasuke respects you, a little voice whispered in her mind. So does your father. Yuki-san. Iruka-sensei. You're not as alone as he is. You have people who care. Tsuki gazed back at her drawing with uncertain eyes. The ink had fallen down her pen and straight onto the corner of the orbs etched on the page, and then proceeded to roll away to the bottom, leaving a dark trail in his wake. Almost like a broken tear, falling down a broken face from a broken gaze, and her heart gave a tiny crack within her chest.

Abandoning Naruto had been the logical decision, not the right one.

But she wouldn't go back on it.

The child buried her face in her arms and cried.

XxxX

Hatori Tsubaki was worried.

It did not happen quite often. The clan head was usually calm and collected, strong and level-headed, quite helpful features which enabled him to take the best decisions without letting his feelings influence him, and lead the clan with a strong and steady hand. Tsubaki usually did not worry simply because he trusted himself enough to know he could handle whatever could worry him. Be it enemy ninjas, council members, his cunning wife or even his rebellious son, all of them he could handle neatly with his arms crossed.

His eight years old daughter, however, was in a league of her own and an infinitely more complicated matter. Tsukiko usually did not worry him; she was respectful, discrete, perhaps a tad bit arrogant and pompous, but it came with her age. She had never quite given him white hairs the way her brother's stunts had, and he had been glad for it. Whereas Sora was rash and reckless, prone to the impulsiveness of youth, Tsukiko had always been quiet and obedient, never raising her voice, never throwing a tantrum of anything of the likes. Thus, Tsubaki had never before actually worried he couldn't handle her, simply because she'd never been trying to worry him. Her anger, however rare it was, he could handle. Her capricious desires, same. Even her stubbornness.

But the sheer sorrow and emotional pain he could feel in her room?

Now that worried him.

He did not have the slightest clue when it came to female's emotional well-being. There had been one, long ago, he could decipher easily, but that time had long come and gone and withered in Time's merciless flow, not that he'd done anything to preserve it, as he had agreed to. And now, he found himself in need of dealing with his daughter's sorrowful and thoroughly unusual mood, alone, without the slightest idea what to do. Training with her had done nothing to abate her mood, and neither had chakra training, kunais, clan techniques, anything he could think of. None had worked like they did on Sora, and he was fairly certain he couldn't cheer his daughter up the way he did with his son. It just wouldn't work, for they weren't the same.

The clan head found himself tapping his fingers on the wood in front of him. He was arrogant at times, sure; but not to the point of refusing to acknowledge when he was in way over his head. Nothing quite scared him like the well of sadness emanating like a black cloud from the other side of the compound. It had never happened before, not even in a faction of what it currently was. Which meant it was big. Big and possibly not something he could solve by himself. Especially if he was leaving in a short few hours. As such, he'd been forced to call back-up.

Kneeling in the living-room, a steaming cup of tea laying untouched before him, he faced the very person he usually avoided like the plague.

"…She's sad, of all things, and that has you worried?"

"And you aren't?" Tsubaki scowled. "She's your daughter, you're entitled to-"

"She's your daughter." Ayano replied quietly. Her face remained neutral, void of emotion. Tsubaki's gaze became a glare, bearing a heavy warning not to cross the line. Ayano shrugged.

"A boy might have been mean to her, or she might have lower grades than she expected. It will pass."

"I don't care for the reason. I care that it stops."

Tsubaki tapped his fingers on the wood, still ignoring his cup, while his wife slowly raised hers to her lips to take a sip. How many times had they sat like this, but actually reversed? How many times had she come to him, begging for something he was unwilling to give, but duty-bound to? How many times had he still refused her, despite how he'd promised not to, to always care and cherish her and love her? Now look at them, look at him. How the mighty have fallen, she thought, the darkest part of her taking a deep satisfaction in seeing how low the great warrior had stooped, seeking her help of all things. Now the roles were reversed. She was the one in control. She was the one in power. And it felt so good to deny him, for once.

"No, Tsubaki."

The clan head raised his head sharply.

"No? What do you mean, no?"

Ayano stared at him, hard. He was almost taken aback by the indifference of her sea green eyes.

"I won't go up there and try to cheer her up. I have other duties to attend to."

They faced each other in silence, tense on Tsubaki's part, relaxed and satisfied on Ayano's. The Hatori matriarch kept sipping her tea quietly, never shifting from her kneeling position, at ease and confident. Through half-lidded eyes, she hungrily drank in the slightly bent form in front of her, a giant of a man usually standing tall and regal and proud, now reduced to begging and lowering his head like a dog before her. It made her feel so, so powerful, in a way she hadn't felt since long before even Tsukiko's arrival. Possibly even before their wedding, even. The occasions to reclaim the slightest bit of the power she once held were so few and far in-between, she cherished every single one of them, however short they were. Knowing such a powerful man could be brought to bow before her, to bend to her will when he truly wanted something only she could give…it was exhilarating, and she savored every second, doing her best to make it last.

But even after nearly fifteen years of marriage, he could still surprise her.

"I'll sleep with you tonight."

Her satisfaction came to an abrupt end, shattered and doused in freezing water. Tsubaki wasn't even looking at her, having closed his eyes and clenched his fingers on his pants.

"I'll give you what you've always wanted. Everything. If you just-"

The cup was slammed onto the table so hard it cracked, and the clan head, reflexively leaned away, his dark eyes traveling from the breaking cup to the trembling fingers, and up to the closed-off face they belonged to. Ayano half-stood, long red hair falling down on each side of her face to hide her eyes. But the shaking of her shoulders and the sudden, angry swirl of her almost forgotten chakra flaring to life around her gave away all too well exactly how she felt. Tsubaki tensed at once, swallowing hard and gathering chakra to his feet just in case. He straightened the slightest bit, raising one leg to have a stronger chance to move should the woman decide to shift towards violence. Anything to leave the vicinity unscathed and unseen. But he had to at least try and calm her down.

"Ayano-"

"Get out."

Her voice had been quiet, controlled. She was deathly still, focused, as though slowly gaining control back over her eager chakra reserves. It gave him hope.

"Please, you just-"

The cup shattered under the weight of her furious fist, and the table gave a shuddering moan under the impact. Tiny cracks burst into existence all over the polished wood, a few splinters breaking her skin and leaving small droplets of blood on their path. Despite himself, Tsubaki took a half step away when furious, stormy green eyes finally left the ground to pin him in place with the weight of their wrath.

"You dare," she snarled, "offering this in exchange!? You dare even think I would accept!? Who do you bloody think I am!?"

Her voice went higher and louder with each word until she was no longer speaking, but yelling to his face. Tsubaki made no move to answer, sensing she wasn't done.

"I am the Hatori Matriarch. I am the one holding this whole clan together, and before you married me, I was one of the most skilled kunoichis of my generation, the most discrete and deadly. I love you and I care, too, but I would never sacrifice my own dignity for something as trivial as a passing sadness."

Her voice suddenly got softer as she stared at him, her eyes filling with a deep sorrow which had him turning away, unable to meet her eyes, "…And even if I did, I would never quite insult you so by believing you would accept it."

She turned away from him, feeling the weakness of her voice and hating herself for it. Her husband still had not made a move, but she knew he'd gotten the message. He wouldn't even dignify her speech with an answer; he'd just walk away with his head held high, pretending as he always did she had not made an impact on him. That he was still the strong, perfect clan head the others knew him as. No one would ever see this side of him, the side which thought so low of others, who never bothered to get to know them, to acknowledge their feelings and strive to redeem himself in their eyes. They would never know this selfish, indifferent side of him. Only she was cursed to endure it. Only she knew, cursed as she was to never breathe a word about it, for even she would not stoop so low. Even if he certainly had no qualms about it, had no qualms about exploiting her weaknesses to try and get what he wanted from her.

Because it meant nothing to him, she knew. He didn't like it, but it left him quite indifferent and it was the very reason she would never accept it. She had enough of his indifference in her days, she didn't need it in her nights, straight in the sanctuary of her bedroom, where she could reminisce in peace and remember when they were not this way. He would not taint her most precious memories with his careless disregard of her very self.

She had let him take many pieces of her, but this was one she would never be willing to give, even if he was all too happy to try and take it, all of it for a child's tears. The thought of her made her anger rise again, especially as she heard her husband finally shuffle away from her, towards the door. Her anger did not allow him to go so easily.

"You know, it just proves what I've been saying for years," she eventually said. "You never really knew me. And even now as the fact is staring you in the face…still you make no move to even try."

The footsteps had paused. And Tsubaki proceeded to stomp on what remained of her heart and discard it on the floor.

"I never wanted to."

The door closed on his last words and Ayano fell to her knees.

The woman buried her face in her arms and cried.

XxxX

The swings gently swayed in the wind, letting the small blonde's legs trail on the ground. Shallow lines his feet traced in the sand, but he didn't really notice, eyes transfixed on the academy door, watching as the future genin excitedly recalled their day to their loving parents, the laughs and praises echoing around him in an agonizing storm over his head. Even then, no child remained alone; the few who weren't caught in loving embraces talked with their friends, happily leaving everyone else behind as they took the path home. Home, where love and comfort awaited them, where they could eagerly await the next morning and to see their friends again.

Naruto closed his eyes and turned away from the sight, feeling like his heart was shattering again, in even smaller pieces than before. He hadn't known a heart could break so many times, could be fixed and be destroyed countless times, endlessly following the vicious circle of friendship and betrayal. And though it hurt, always, although the people who had yet to betray him were few, he did not stop trusting, did not stop giving his heart away -even to those who would step on it without a second thought. But it hadn't been the first time he'd trusted her, and she'd turned her back on him, was it? Tsuki was an odd person. One moment she was comforting him, even yelling at those who hurt him, and the next she was distant, or even gone. He didn't understand what was going on in her head, what thoughts could lead her to suddenly do a one-hundred-and-eighty degrees turn when it came to him. She certainly didn't seem to act this way towards Sasuke. But then, why? He couldn't recall a single thing he'd done wrong, a word he'd said, or anything that justified her leaving him. Maybe it was just him. Maybe she'd realized he was not worth her time, or that he was exactly the 'demon' the villagers accused him of being? He'd long since given up on understanding why the grown-ups resented him -safe a few- but no matter how hard he tried, he didn't understand her. At all.

And a deep, longing part of him kept hoping she'd eventually return and tell him she wanted to be his friend, for real. But it was a fool's hope, he knew. Unless she figured out whether she wanted to be with him or not, unless he figured out why she left…she wouldn't return, he would remain alone and lonely. And now that he'd finally started to know what having friends felt like…he craved it. But he could do nothing about it. Nothing at all.

Mechanically as the sun slowly lowered in the sky, Naruto left the deserted swings, hands buried deep in his pockets. All around him the people hurried home before the darkness of the night befell them, before they could allow the cold to settle in their bones and chill them to the core. But though he had a warm pull-over and the sun hadn't set yet, Naruto felt impossibly unable to warm up. The streets passed him by one by one, some already empty, others still the scene of the villagers' everyday life, as they took late strolls through their beautiful village or tidied up their shops in preparation for the next morning, ready to go on as they always did, not even pausing a single second to spare a thought on the quiet, for once discrete blonde child walking the streets. Some hurtled insults towards him, as usual; he barely listened. Even Ichiraku's enticing smell didn't register to him, lost as he was in his thoughts and the heavy cloud of his sorrow masking whatever joy and happiness he usually found in his life. He had nothing but his dream, nothing but his drive and his unshakable beliefs, but he was just a child, lonely, to whom most remained indifferent if they weren't nasty. His home was empty, cold; his path, too. How he longed for somebody to care, longed for somebody to understand…he'd thought Tsuki did, to a point; though she never said a thing. It was obvious to him, who had never known but harsh indifference. How the girl longed for her mother to acknowledge her the way he longed for the villagers'. How she gazed around the world trying to find a place she truly belonged, for she unconsciously felt she wasn't in the right place. How lonely and desperate, knowing all too well she was different, how she needed something she didn't even know, something no one was willing to give. He'd hoped they could be each other's salvation, each other's light in the darkness. But though the light stubbornly refused to shine on him…at least he still knew where he stood.

She didn't.

Tsuki thought she did, he knew. She was the Hatori heiress, training to become a kunoichi, friend with Sasuke, strong and confident in her skills…but she was always alone. Her father was gone most of the time, her mother didn't care for her, her classmates gave her a wide berth -she was alone. She was trying to be someone she wasn't, and she had yet to acknowledge it. She was desperately trying to reconcile her family's expectations with what, deep inside, she truly wanted from her life. But she could not have both. And since she was just starting to realize exactly what she wanted, but had always been taught to desire what she had been taught to desire…she had rejected her personal desires to follow her clan, her family, even though she knew they were wrong. She was not yet strong enough, not yet lucid enough to understand, to fight and defy everything she'd ever been taught. They couldn't be friends, not yet.

Not until she finally decided to fight for them.

The thought that she did not want to felt like a punch to the gut -and he knew what these felt like. Once more, once again, he'd been left alone by one who could have been a friend, one who might never become one. All because her family, the very thing he lacked, had willed it so. Did it give him more freedom than her? In more than one way, certainly. But the greater part of him still wished he could trade some of his freedom for the love she could have, but not him. At least it would make coming home bearable, warm, comforting; instead of walking into an empty, small apartment where no one waited for him, where there was no one to welcome him, to care for him and see if he was alright. His heart was a hole and no one was willing to chase its emptiness away. No one.

Alone, alone, alone.

Unwanted. Discarded. Unloved.

Under the now glowing light of the moon, alone in his empty life, Naruto buried his head in his arms and cried.

XxxX

A/N: Hatori Tsubaki is, with Tsuki, the most complex character. Naruto is clear, Sasuke too, but the two Hatoris are lost in a sea of what they want, what they must do and what they can't do. Tsuki's a child, she doesn't know any better, and she has room for improvement; this, at least, is clear.

Tsubaki, on the other hand, is a lot more difficult, because he is an adult and fully aware of his choices and their consequences. I wonder how many of you understand what's actually going on? Like I said I kept dropping hints throughout the chapters, but I feel like I just wrote a giant neon sight screaming 'Surprise! Tsubaki is actually —'

There are many secrets within the Hatori clan, and few know of them all. If you solved the puzzle, know Tsubaki's not the only one to blame. The whole story has yet to be revealed, but I don't want to spoil it. I know he's a major jerk, but has his reasons, unclear as they may currently be.

Anyway, please review if you enjoyed it! Otherwise I can never know what I'm supposed to improve or what I should keep doing!