Hey guys, this fic won't be changed on fictionpress. I'm throwing out that vagary, and continuing as is. It's too fun to write, too liberating. Hope you enjoy :)

Chapter Eleven
Being Soignée

soignée - (adj): well-groomed, comely, attractive, dressed to kill

(In the previous chapter: (I don't know how else to do this))

"I'm sure that the only reason God made Naruto discard you..."

Sasuke bent down.

"...was so I could have you, instead."

He leaned over and kissed my passive lips.

He kissed me, and his lips were hard, uncompromising. And I knew that he cared for me, and he was doing this so that I could be comforted, but it was too much. I used my hands to push his shoulders away, but I had hit the wall, and there was no giving in from him. I stepped on his shoe, missed, and finally clomped on it heavily.

He moved his head so that our breaths still mingled but he could look down and see my foot pressuring his.

"Yes?" he whispered, almost lazily. I stared into his eyes and saw myself in there, scared witless, lips red as rubies on a pale and washed away face.

My voice meant to be a shout, but it came out quieter than his. "Stop."

I wanted to say more, to wave flags around declaring freedom (or something), shout across the centuries that when a woman is spurned by the one she loves, it is too much to take in, and other confusing stimuli are not appreciated.

"What?" Sasuke asked, on purpose, I thought. "I didn't hear you. What did you say?" And then he had leaned in again, but it was the weight of his entire body, a head taller than mine, and my legs bent and could not move. I was not thinking about kicking him, anyway. The hands that were on his shoulders were rather drawing him in now. I was gasping for breath, but the frustration came later. We finally stopped, and I could hear my heart breaking. This was not enough to heal me.

"I don't – I don't need this."

'Everyone needs this; it's part of evolution," he said, in one of his rare moments for humor. He angled his head and kissed my neck slowly.

"Sasuke, I'm – " I was a lot of things. I was dirty, tearful. I was not in the mood for this, I – but his mouth had traveled upwards, and his tongue was in my mouth, and it was all I could do to not burst into flames.

But I managed to push him away this time. The moment his lips left mine my body regretted the decision. His body, forty pounds heavier, pressed into mine, was a sensation I would all too readily repeat. But not in this lifetime; I was too scarred.

"Naruto," he said, as if expecting my reaction.

I exhaled. I had the ridiculous notion to fan myself at a time like this; my body felt like it had overheated. "Yes."

I could imagine his mind choosing his words out carefully. Careful for my sake. "You weren't anything to him."

Perhaps not that carefully. I felt an ache in my ribs.

He continued, in that slow, deliberate way, his head tilted slightly to the left, his eyes searching my face. "I think he was playing around. With you. I don't think he ever liked you in that… way." Perhaps the deliberateness was to make Naruto's words more final, to have me get over him. But it did nothing but deepen the pain.

And then, as if he were the judge to make the final verdict after the glossing over: "I like you in that way."

What firmness; what incredible, resolute confidence! I thought, not a little snarkily. Confidence at a time like this – I did not need it. If only, I thought, Naruto had said that. If only Naruto had.

And then the tears had started again, and I knew I needed a bathroom. Some comforting tissues. A toilet, perhaps. I felt nauseous.

"I've got to go," I said, looking only at my hands. The air suddenly seemed a lot colder, but that wasn't the only reason my hands were shaking. I took a deep, deep breath, just so my words were coherent. "Please don't follow me," I whispered. I began walking down the street, blindly knowing where my house was. I felt like an old woman, limping and broken not only on the outside, but the inside as well.

I reached my driveway and went to painfully get the mail. It is the most ludicrous thing, getting the mail after someone has dumped you for the second time in less than a year. It is simply absurd. I had the mail in my still-shaking fingers, and it was only after I had glanced at it to reveal an ad for any singles in this area that I began to giggle. Singles in this area! Well! I guess I was one. Actually, I had been a single all this time; I just fancied that Naruto would like me enough to take me on so I would be a not-single, and therefore I would not need this ad. I continued to giggle. This was preposterous. I was stark, raving mad, standing on the street getting the mail, bent out of shape from laughter. What would the neighbors think?

The statement wouldn't have been so funny if the situation had not been so dire. I still thought of what the neighbors thought, even after my heart had been fully been blown up from hope, exploded with twenty thousand needles, and fed to the God of Heartbreak. Then I wondered if the God of Heartbreak got fat from eating so many broken hearts, and this was so disgusting and unnatural to think about that I began laughing all over again.

I hunkered down, rocking back and forth, alternating between silent, helpless laughter and cowering bouts of crying. After maybe five minutes, although it had felt like years had passed, I ceased crying. I wiped my eyes with another ad (I had ripped the singles ad to bits) and felt like something was wrong.

The last time Naruto had dumped me, Sasuke had comforted me. I had almost expected to feel his hand, warm, clasp my shoulders, for him to hug me to his body, whisper endearments. Maybe not endearments. Words of sympathy. I knew I missed him.

Then I remembered his true self, not the one I imagined would be here. He had, in reality, told me that Naruto had never liked me; his words had had an insulting edge to it. Maybe not his tone, or his intention, but Sasuke had put me down. The reality of his words set in.

You weren't anything to him.

I think he was playing around. With you. I don't think he ever liked you in that… way.

I had lost my true love and I had lost a friend I had never had. I had thought Sasuke might comfort me as a friend does when another friend is upset, but he hadn't. He had kissed me and told me that I had never been suited for Naruto.

He also told you that you were suited for him.

I trudged my way into the house, pitched the ads onto the kitchen counter, and curled up in a ball on the couch. I cried into a pillow, and when I did not cry, I screamed.

Yeah, well, look at where liking a boy has gotten you, and you'll learn quickly that no boy is ever worth it.

My stomach heaved, and I thought I really was dying. I ran to the toilet and threw up, and felt even worse. I glared balefully into the mirror at the sad distortion of a human being, and I thought of Naruto.

Only Naruto.

XXX

XXX

I sat in that confining house doing nothing for forty-eight hours. When Sunday night came, I was forced to accept that

a. the world would not duly explode,

b. the Russians were not advanced enough yet to make a bomb that could explode all the way to here, Japan,

c. Sasuke had not attempted to reach with me in any way.

It was not so much that I wanted communication with him more than Naruto; I just thought it would be more likely. Sasuke would call, text, or email ( – or go to my house; he knew where it was), explaining that whatever had come between us was a joke, and would you like a shoulder to weep on so I could comfort you? I would seize the chance then, and things would be, at least marginally, all right. If I had a friend who would listen to me.

And then I harbored the hope that Naruto would call, even though that would have been extremely unlikely. He would call, and he'd explain that he had mistaken me for Sakura, and had used my name instead of hers. How? Well, he could have gone blind for ten minutes; then he couldn't have seen me as he talked to me. And as for the mistaking Hinata for Sakura part…

Hell, I couldn't do this. My mind was too quick to jump to hopeful possibilities.

I needed a mind that could think tomorrow: tomorrow being Monday. I needed a mind that could direct a body to function normally, to smile as if the person had not received a crushing blow to her dignity and heart… I needed a body to, yes, beat Sasuke at finals in AP Calc and AP Chem… but most of all, I needed a body to carry me through this ordeal. I knew I wanted to see Tuesday and Wednesday and the days before that. I was crushed from Naruto – from everything, from needing a friend in my time of need, but I knew I was not crushed completely. I wanted nothing more to die, but some part of my spirit wouldn't let me. A voice told me that I had been dumped before, that I'd grown resilient and resistant to self-degradation. If anything, I thought, betraying my shattered heart; this made me stronger.

And if anything else, I reflected, it's shown to me that boys are fickle creatures, luring you in with breadcrumbs only to thwack you on the head and force you to eat poisoned kittens.

Then I conceded with; okay. Maybe not to thwack. And not kittens, either.

XXX

XXX

I wore a green blouse-like top. Green for verve, green for quietude and peace and relaxation. Certainly not angst, or anxiety. The blouse was girly, an I had never worn it to school before. It was sleeveless; it had two thin strips of cloth that I could tighten, but other than that my shoulders and half of back was bared. Only the assured girls dressed like this on a normal day.

Usually, I hardly wore any makeup. I would only daub a little concealer on days with unspeakably red blemishes, and sometimes blush to liven pallid cheeks.

Today I used to my fullest proficiency the makeup that TenTen had left behind all those times she'd used to come to my house. Half a teacup (they looked like teacups! how ridiculous) of lip gloss, a mascara wand (in its container, of course), and thirteen shades of eye shadow on little star-shaped palettes were what I discovered in the vicinity of my closet, where TenTen and I used to dress up. I didn't occupy the place anymore; dressing up had been more of TenTen's thing than mine, and I found it lonely, after having had so many good memories.

But I didn't have room or time to reminisce, to nurse my nostalgia for the good old days (when I thought boys were friendly, sane, and sometimes cute creatures). It was six o'clock, and I had to take the bus at seven.

Usually I'd be in bed, but I let myself coast on five hours of sleep (I'd cried and raged myself to sleep for three nights in a row) and one hour of full-on makeup. Next to TenTen's assortments of used makeup, I had my blush, mostly unused, an eye-lash curler, foundation, and concealer.

Time to make myself up, I cackled inside, feeling a stab of righteous feminism. I'd make myself up; I'd do myself honor. Heads would turn (especially that of Naruto's). I would have no time to indulge other people's whims, however. I would be studying, paying so hard in class that my stare would bore holes in the teachers' heads.

There would be new Hinata, and I would be transformed.

XXX

XXX

I am no great expression-reader, but I do believe that some of the people I walked by in the halls to first period did a double-take. Maybe I'd made-believe those, being, again, as I can't read people well, but I did not imagine Sakura coming up to me just before the bell in class and saying that I looked fantastic.

"Thanks," I said, inwardly adding that there was nothing like somebody dumping you the second time over that you realize you need a much-necessitated change. In appearance, in demeanor, in belief, in world-view; and I had chosen appearance.

The student body knew me as a nondescript and average girl who skulked in corners and ate mice for lunch (not really; but they might as well have).

This girl was beautiful (makeup had its merits, though I knew it would take a helluva lot of time to take off). She was self-assured. The history teacher called on me to recite a passage and I complied. I spoke in an eloquent, carrying voice, and I did not blush once or trail the ends of sentences like I would do. I stayed constant throughout the passage, with no mistakes, and when I was finished I did not duck my head; I looked straight ahead to the teacher, who praised me.

This seemed small, but right then it was monumental for me. The prospect of creating a goal (becoming confident), and finally starting to reach it – this was new for me because the goal was not academically-oriented; it was self-oriented – and made me walk even straighter, smile even brighter. Some people smiled back, and I talked to Shikamaru, Ino, and Sakura. I'd never done this without them first talking to me, but I was different today.

At times I felt doubt, as I did in sixth period. It was English, and the bell had just rung signifying its end.

I was rising with my books in my arms when a red-haired girl stopped by me and smiled. There was something not right with that smile. It did not reach her eyes. She adjusted her glasses, stretching her smile.

"Hey," she said easily, as if we had been friends all these years. "I'm Karin. Nice to meet you."

I didn't know why then, but I felt as if there were something wrong with this girl. Her skin was too plastic; her eyes, dull.

"Hi," I said, a mite cautiously.

"You're really very pretty today," Karin complimented me. "I like your blouse."

"Thanks. I like your pants." They were white, with flames starting on the bottom. And it was true; compared to the rest of her outfit, I liked them fine.

"So how is school?" she asked brightly. We walked the halls to lunch.

I did not like those general questions. "School's fine," I responded. "It's always been sort of boring."

"Yes! – I definitely agree." She asked me about my hobbies, etc. Normal things to ask, from a normal person, if I had not felt that I were being interviewed. Her eyes looked suddenly protuberant. After the general questions, she launched into a monologue about her life.

"I've been having these weird dreams lately, you know? But they're really strange. Like, I'm locked up in a glass room, and people from the other side – it feels like another world; dreams don't make sense – they were ogling at me like I was a monkey in a cage. I felt sort of strange. You know that feeling?"

She looked at expectantly; I nodded.

"After the dream, I wrote it down. I interpret dreams; they're fun to interpret. So I thought that it meant that I wasn't good in social skills. And I guess I'm not!" She laughed, throwing back her hair just enough to let it catch the fan from the cafeteria. We got plates; I got a blue one; she chose red.

"So I'm going through today and analyzing my every move, and how everyone responds. And I guess I don't have much social skills. Well, except for now, but that's because you're so nice." From the buffet I selected shrimp. She got bread, a salad, and five of those small square butter condiments.

"So, yeah, you know – I was wondering how you act in social situations, you know? I mean you're so confident! It's amazing. So I was just wondering that."

Wow, I thought to myself. One day of being like this, and I was attracting people already. Like flies. Okay. One fly. But still.

"I just… sort of mesh," I answered. "I guess. I try to be myself, but I do act differently around everybody – sort of imperceptibly, like attuning yourself to others. Listening is important."

"Of course, of course," she gabbled. "Definitely. For sure. Oh and I was wondering – how do you act towards boys? You know. They are such a strange and rare specimen – the good kind of boys, I'll have you know – that I sort of freeze up when I talk to them." Her eyes had suddenly become very sharp, probing. "How do you behave in situations like that?"

"I – " I began, finding it at once very funny and very painful to talk about boys. Funny as in ironic, because I had just been dumped by one and I was obviously not the go-to adviser for boys. Painful because it brought back images of Naruto. But I held them down. "I… well, boys are pretty strange people, I agree with you."

Her eyebrows rose somewhat. "Definitely. They're so weird! But you seem pretty experience. I mean, you seem to get along fine with them. For example…"

But I was not listening to her; someone's gaze had arrested my attention. My gaze traveled past Karin, her face muddled out of focus, and landed sharply on Sasuke's. My heart jumped. I had the acute feeling that he had been watching me for a while now.

At my stare, he looked back at me intently. It was like something both out of the cheesiest romance novel and a horror movie. He kept his gaze trained on me as he slowly, slowly brought his mug to his lips, drank – I miserably noted that his Adam's apple was defined (but so was Naruto's) – and then placed the mug down.

To make matters worse, he stared at me as he moved his tongue across his lips. At once a heat took hold of me. I flushed and looked back at Karin, whom I was not in actuality paying any attention to.

The scene was like one in a romance novel because it was a blatant come-on. Flirting. (No; not me. He had been flirting with – um, the boy across the aisle from me. Of course. That boy. With the dreadlocks). But then again, the scene was like a horror movie because maybe Sasuke was really a child-molester who flirted with senior high school girls to rape them and hack them up and the police would only find an elbow (I had been reading The Lovely Bones as of late). Maybe he would murder me if I didn't take a hold of my body's response… But then again, only I would hypothesize he was a child-molester, to be sure.

Why was I advising Karin how to be socially accepted, again?

I tuned in on her.

"So yeah. Could you help me do that?" She peered anxiously at me, but oddly, I still felt something false about her. Something obsequious and oily.

"Help you do what? Sorry – I was sort of daydreaming." Maybe it really was daydreaming, I thought. Maybe he'd never… er, done that. I focused wholly on Karin, casting away the thought of Sasuke who sat behind her.

"Um… I asked you if you would, um, introduce me to Sasuke," she repeated, her voice full of good cheer. But again, it sounded forced.

"Um, I guess I could do that. He's really a very…" The words died on my lips as I saw Sasuke approach our table. My eyes widened. Do not. Come here.

Karin saw my eyes and started to turn around. Once her gaze left me, I slashed my palms across my throat at Sasuke. His eyebrows rose. "What are you – "

"Uh – Sasuke!" I said to her, inwardly beseeching. "He's – let me tell you a secret!"

Thankfully she stopped mid-turn, and whirled back to me. "What?" she whispered excitedly, turning back to hear about pseudo-Sasuke's secret instead of looking at the real Sasuke. I hid a snicker. Life was ridiculous.

"Um," I said, and she bent her head. Her curly hair looked dyed, up close. "Tell me! Now!" She gave me her best smile. "Pretty please?"

I had her enchanted by Sasuke's secret that I didn't even know existed until now. He could breed cows in Austria, for all I knew.

"Um…" My gaze, unconsciously, swept through the cafeteria. It lingered at the doors. Sasuke was just on his way out, but he was staring at me. Again, I thought, slightly frustrated. He mouthed a few words to me that I could not comprehend (I can't read lips). Then he motioned with his finger that he wanted me to come over to him.

He disappeared through the door, and was gone.

"Uhh… I have to leave now," I said quickly to Karin.

"What?" she screeched. Heads turned. "I mean – what?" she whispered. Her eyes shot daggers, then arrows, then lightning bolts.

"I… uh, the secret…?"

"Yes, the secret!" she hissed. "I need to know this. Um, for social endeavors. You know."

I guess my mind went in a loop or malfunctioned or something. All I knew was I needed to go meet Sasuke, and alleviate Karin's thirst for knowledge fast

"Er," I began. Then an idea hit me, and I said if because I felt confident. Maybe too confident? "Er, Sasuke's a child-molester who flirts with girls to hack them up – and – and – he poisons kittens."

This is ridiculous, I thought, as I weaved through the chairs and tables. I resolved not to look back; she probably thought I was mentally unstable. Or pseudo- Sasuke, who was apparently a serial killer.

Walking to the door, seeing the flash of black, I felt like my make up only make it worse for me. What if he thought I was… dressing up for him?

But, no; girl, tighten your resolve. So I walked up to him, tapped his shoulder, and smiled coolly.

"Top o' the morning to you, Sasuke."

His only response was a brilliant, searing smile.

First, I am not marketing that good looks equal complete transformation. I just thought that Hinata had already been through so many psychological changes that change in appearance was something fresh, and it was something that other people could see and be awed at.

That being said, I MISSED YOU GUYS! (heart heart heart). I know I am terrible at updating, and selfish to think that readers would still like to read this story. I'm sorry. I will respond to any reviews with utter love. Because those who come back after that hiatus (I shudder to think how long it's been - at least a year?) deserve acclaim. Really. I'll love you. Please review.

About reposting this as an original story on Fictionpress - I'm not going to do that. I'm going to with Stepbrother Sasuke, but not The Journal. I think I like it as a Hinata/Sasuke humorous fic. There's something good about having the characters being set for you in that you can't wait to let them loose and see what they'll do. And the love that shall bloom. Yeah.

Review? And I'll let you in on life experiences and inspirations and cookies and magical flowers, and poisoned kittens, and child-molesters. Which Sasuke actually is not, sorry.

all love,
h.h.