The winter air was cool like the morning dew on flower petals and crisp like the paper in a brand-new book. The sun was yellow, bright, bright autumn leaf yellow, ringed by clouds like a string of pearls. And the sky. The sky was blue. Blue like his – she shook her head, brushing the thoughts away.

Hinata's feet swayed gently like the breeze as she gazed down at the villagers, like ants, like little motes of dust floating in that very same winter breeze.

She could see why he liked it here. The world was so big and wide. Here for her sharp, sweeping eyes to absorb in all its majesty. She took a big gulp of the misty morning air, blinked those yellow beads of sunlight out of her eyes, and willed her Byakugan to activate.

"Hinata~aaaa." A pair of warm hands descended upon her eyelids. She squeaked in shock.

He'd just returned from that three-year training trip with Jiraiya-sama, tall and gold and sparkling. Asked her where she'd been, why she was hiding out here of all places. That she ought to shut up and come with him (on a mission).

And she – she had no idea what to say to him, it had just been three years since she'd seen him last and all of a sudden he was asking her to shut UP and come with HIM, like a lightning bolt from a clear sky, completely out of nowhere. Her mind was mush, her stomach was roiling like those very same whirlpools he was named after, her heart wasn't ready –

"Whoa, no need to sound so surprised." He somehow combined a laugh and a plaintive whine in that unique voice only he could pull off, and she willed her breaths to calm as she would will her Byakugan to activate. "Long time, no see, ya know? How've you been, Hinata?"

"Ah...Good afternoon, Naruto-kun...I've been okay." She wasn't, not when he was so close she could feel his voice in her ear and all the ridges of his fingerprints on her eyelids, but she wasn't about to say that out loud.

He still wouldn't remove his hands from her eyes. They were warm. Had she mentioned before that they were warm? Because they were warm, warm like a furnace. Like the hottest day in July. It was July, wasn't it? No wait, it was August and soon it would be Tsunade-sama's birthday and she and Jiraiya-sama were planning on a massive drinking competition in celebration, so said Sakura-san, and really, Naruto could have waited until September to come back, couldn't he, because it was much cooler in September and his hands wouldn't be so warm –

She squeaked again as he lightly traced his hands over her pop-out Byakugan veins. He grinned charmingly, obliviously (she could tell...after all, she had perfect 360 degree vision). Her stomach kept tossing and turning like a boat caught in a typhoon.

Naruto had not been raised by any sort of adult. He had, in her estimation, been raised by wolves, and sometimes it showed.

"Jeez, you Hyuuga are so uptight about your training." He finally removed his hands from her eyes, his own scrunching shut in a familiar smile, and scratched the back of his head.

"I-I'm not uptight," she protested. "You...you just scared me, Naruto-kun."

He laughed then, a warm, infectious laugh. "Yep, that's me, Konoha's Number One Unpredictable Noisy Ninja! Always catching people off-guard! Anyway, wanna get some ramen? My treat!"

It was funny, the misconceptions people harbored about the Byakugan.

The world never became black and white when she activated them.

No, it became a hundred times more vivid and distinct.

From this vantage point, from the Yondaime's head, it was easy to pick out Ichiraku. She was sure he had done so, hundreds of times in the past.

Always looking forward, seeing something beyond the big, wide sky. Seeing something no one else could see. Those morning rays of the sun, they hit him first, from up here on the Yondaime's head.

Always looking straight ahead. And maybe she wanted to see what he saw, so she started craning her neck in the same direction. And what he saw was –

Her eyes burned.

It was funny, what happened when she cried with her Byakugan activated.

The world never became blurry.

No, it became a hundred times more vivid and distinct.

And now –

Now those morning rays of the sun, they were hitting her next. Not watery through a curtain of tears, but painful, piercing, supernova yellow.

"And I'd like an extra-large bowl of miso ramen with some naruto!" He grinned, showing off every single crinkle around his eyes. It suited him, suited his face. "And, uh...what would you like, Hinata?"

His lips were chapped and cracked, rough, dried skin peeling off. Far, far too unrestrained, far, far too earnest.

Hinata had never seen something so beautiful.

"I'd like the same, Teuchi-san."

Naruto's smile shifted to something smaller, quieter.

"All right!" Teuchi flashed them a wink and a thumbs-up. "Comin' right up!"

"Ya know..." Naruto leaned forward, elbows on the counter. "Most people here, they never order naruto."

"They don't?"

"Nope." He scowled and crossed his arms. "They always order wakame and nori and – and menma. Can you believe that? Menma, Hinata, menma."

"Hmmmm?"

"Yeah! Naruto's always at the bottom of the favorite toppings list." He puffed out his cheeks now, looking like an enraged kitten.

Hinata bit her lip. It didn't work. A smile bloomed on her face unbidden.

Just her luck, Teuchi-san chose that moment to return with their orders.

She busied herself with snapping apart her chopsticks, grateful for the steaming hot bowl in front of her. "Well...Naruto's always been number one for me."

Naruto's smile changed to something quieter still. "Really?"

Hinata was very, very grateful for the steam rising from the broth.

"Really."

It was true. From this vantage point, it was terribly easy to pick out Ichiraku. She honed in, zooming, zooming, zooming into the splintering wood of the countertop, the cracked cushions of the stool, the beads of sweat dotting Ayame-san's upper lip as she stirred the broth, the specks of dough on Teuchi-san's apron.

Miso ramen. With extra naruto.

Hot tears dripped from her eyelashes, down her nose, running onto her lips, clinging to her chin, spilling onto her lap. A lump formed in her stomach, spreading to her lungs, blooming in her throat in a scratchy mess, and she hadn't eaten breakfast yet, so why could she taste –

She brought a hand to the roof of her mouth, plucking something out.

She frowned.

Yellow.

Like his hair.

A/N: I'm sorry, but I just had to write this "Naruto dies and Hinata develops Hanahaki disease" AU. I just wanted to expand my horizons because apparently people have associated me with humor and now I want to spice things up.

Please leave a review! :)