A/N: I expect hard, searing criticism from whoever reads this. I know you're dying to unleash your powers of flamage on this craptacular excuse for a good story, so knock yourselves out.

"Can we just walk in?"

"Shh! She might hear you!"

"You're the one yelling…"

Hinata peered down at her flowers, pretending not to hear the dispute behind her. They had been at it for about 5 minutes now, debating amongst themselves whether they should come in or not. It was odd; Hanabi never showed much interest in the garden, and Ai was never the type to intrude.

"Anyway… why exactly do you want to hang out with her in the garden? It's just a bunch of plants," said Hanabi, always with something negative to say.

"Well… uh… never mind, l-let's just go," Ai whispered nervously.

Just then, Hinata turned her head over her shoulder. "You can come in if you want," she said softly. The girl shouldn't be made to suffer so much. It wasn't kind.

"U-um… no thank you, I j-just remembered I have to go do something," exclaimed Ai, rushing off to whatever made up task she had thought up. Hanabi stood staring after her. "That girl sure can move fast when she wants to," she muttered.

She entered the garden, sitting down beside her sister, who had returned to her gardening after Ai had ran off. Nothing could keep her from the plants for long. She worked hard in her garden, and her dedication showed; spindly branched plants crept up the walls in intricate designs, flowers bloomed and expelled their scent throughout the space, and weeds were nonexistent.

Medicinal plants thrived among the flowering beauties so that nobody else would be able to find rhyme or reason to the garden, yet she knew exactly which shrub healed which ailment, which ones were merely delicate lilies and which seemingly ordinary leaves had curative properties, and which should not be touched for a certain amount of time after the full moon unless the soil had been sprayed by a male cat during mating season (she had some rarities in her garden that commanded much more attention than the rest).

She took much pride in her garden, often emerging from her leafy sanctuary with brown smudges across her cheeks where she had unconsciously rubbed in her many hours spent within the garden. Frequently, the young heiress could be heard receiving a scolding from one of her many maids.

"Miss, you've soiled your kimono again! What will we do with you, ruining such fine silk!" It exasperated the servants to no end, but there was nothing to be done. The lady continued wearing the fine robes to her garden, accidentally running the long sleeves through mud, letting the hem of the kimono land in a newly made puddle, until eventually many of her robes had a darkness creeping up the edge, showing the damage inflicted by her hobby.

She's doing it again, thought Hanabi, her critical eye noticing the hem trailing into the sand. She reached over, pulling the silk out of the dirt, shaking it of its particles. It had been a shock to find how messy her older sister had become. She remembered Hinata in years past, careful of even the smallest patch of dirt, afraid of soiling her clan robes worn out of fear of getting lectured.

And now… no sum of dirt could stifle her love for the garden, nor could any amount of scolding stop her devotion. Hinata frequently ignored the frowns etched clearly on Father's face as he caught sight of her kimono turned gray at the edge from difficult-to-remove dirt.

Which led Hanabi to something else; when had Hinata become so distant? Before she had obsessed over the most minute details, stressing to the point of passing out. Now, however, she never noticed a thing, only acknowledging things when someone pointed them out to her.

"Hinata, your sleeve's catching mud," said Hanabi, pointing out the lavender sleeve getting heavier and heavier with wet soil. Hinata's eyes followed the hand currently setting a seedling into its hole up the wrist and to the opening of the sleeve.

She looked down at the material dripping with mud, examining it as if it was a new species of plant she had yet to introduce into her garden. She then slowly extracted it from the soil, attempting to remove the mud (without much success), and then returning to the very important business of planting the seedling.

And she's gone. That lasted a grand total of … about 3 minutes. Internal scoffing over with, Hanabi exited the garden, not even bothering to say goodbye. Hinata wouldn't hear it anyway.

After dinner and the daily shower (in which thankfully the silver hair had followed the other inmates and gave Sasuke a wide berth) they had been led back to their respective cells, to wile away the hours until dinner. It came as no surprise that as he sat lay in his bunk staring at the bottom of the bunk on top, a guard had come stomping down the hall to deposit the silver hair inside Sasuke's own cell. At first, he had been able to stand the man having his same everything, but it was starting to annoy him slightly. He didn't remember signing up to baby-sit…

The man stepped in, the corner of his mouth still tilted up in his manic smile. He merely acknowledged Sasuke with a nod, then climbed to the top bunk. He began to creak, attempting to arrange himself in a comfortable position.

Creak

From his bunk, Sasuke could see he had distributed his weight to the right.

Creak

Now the bulk was on the left.

Creak

He continued in this fashion for several minutes, an occasional mutter heard from above.

"What do they make these things with, cement…?"

Creak

He flipped over, dangling a hand over the side of the bunk, exactly at Sasuke's eye level. Bony, pale fingers hung there for a few seconds, until the rest of the body decided this wasn't comfortable either.

Creak

The sounds of him flipping over, then turning to the left, lying face-down, curling into a ball, then sitting up made the loudest ruckus of all.

For the love of god, just find a goddamn position and stick with it…

There was a huffing sound from the top bunk, then another turn. The man had decided to rotate his body completely around on the mattress so that his head was where his feet had previously been.

This finally seemed to work. He stopped his turning, sighing as if he had found a position that worked.

Hmm…took you long enough. Sasuke turned his head to face the wall, hoping the familiar brown wall would bore him to sleep. It seemed to be working, as his eyes were beginning to feel heavy. Perhaps he'd be able to finish this morning's dream…

Creak

What the hell? Couldn't this guy just quit? Seriously, he had just started falling asleep, and now this?

"Stop it," he growled, kicking the underside of the top bunk. He heard a surprised yelp from his cellmate, then more creaking as the man flipped over to hang over the edge of the bunk.

"What was that for," he demanded, the manic smile gone, replaced by a scowl to rival Sasuke's own.

"For being a noisy idiot. I'm trying to nap, would you mind just lying down and shutting up? Or is that too hard for a man who took down an entire village by himself?"

"No… It's just these things are so uncomfortable."

Sasuke snorted. "What did you expect, mattresses filled with goose down? In case you haven't noticed, this is a prison, not the Hokage's quarters. Might as well get used to that bunk, I doubt you'll get anything softer." He turned back to face his dirty brown wall. Now… where was I?

"Well, at least it's a step up from hard stone floors…"

Sasuke's black eyes snapped open. He would kill to Chidori this guy into the wall. Since when had he been allowed to speak to him?

He kicked the underside of the bunk again, harder this time, more forcefully.

"What the hell is your problem? I'm not moving any more, what could you possibly be annoyed with now?" exclaimed the silver-haired man crossly.

"Stop moving. Stop making noise. It's not that difficult to understand," was Sasuke's gruff response.

"I guess they weren't lying when they said you had a temper. You're quite venomous you know, must come from when you were with Orochimaru." He said the name nonchalantly, yet it had an unnatural edge to it.

Sasuke closed his eyes, attempting to control himself. Perhaps if he ignored the guy, he would simply shut up, lie back, and sleep. Come on, Sasuke. You're better than this. Don't let this scum get to you; you're better than that, you know you are. You are in control. Remember what you learned…

"But it looks like they were wrong about one thing," the silver hair continued casually.

Breathe. Ignore him. He's just pushing your buttons; don't let him get to you.

"The other guys told me you wouldn't hesitate to kill a guy. They were obviously wrong," the man said, finishing off with a chuckle, beginning to creak around once more.

Just shut up…

"See? You're weak," he said airily.

That's it.

In a flash, he had stood up, reaching over the edge of the bunk and grabbing the man by his orange collar, pushing him roughly into the wall. He drove him further into the hard stone, cracking the wall, the man roaring beneath Sasuke's muffling hand.

He continued ramming the man into the wall, ignoring the tears of pain rolling down his face. Then he stopped, choosing to push him up against the wall by the neck, squeezing the air out of him.

The man began to make wretched, gasping sounds, his face turning steadily bluer beneath his pallor. It gave him a twisted satisfaction, taking out his frustrations on this idiot.

Then quite suddenly, Sasuke stopped, staring at his cellmate panting for breath.

He leaned in to the man's ear with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"How's that for weak?" he said in his lowest, most dangerous voice.

With a terrible sliding sound, he let the man slump down the wall, passed out from lack of air.

He then returned to his bunk, settling down for his nap.

The reflection in the mirror looked bored. No, not bored. Just… lifeless. Still and dead, without the blush that had been so common so long ago, without the worried eyes or the slender fingers poking against each other in agitation. It was a completely different person than she remembered.

At the moment, this lifeless doll was getting ready for the weekly tea party. The completely mandatory tea party that she was being forced to attend. Once a week, she attended the Hyuuga tea party, exclusively for the young Hyuuga ladies. Hanabi attended (also against her will) and Ai as well, mostly because her father would kill her if she wasn't involved.

"I hate this. I really do. Why do we have to go to this stupid tea thing? Seriously, I hate all those girls. They're so prissy, and all they talk about is which kimono is the nicest. I get tired of hearing them talk. Sometimes I just wanna punch them," Hanabi said from where she lay on the bed, pumping her flat palm into the air.

"And then they start talking about guys. 'This guy's cuter! I want to get married! I'm totally stupid and incompetent without a male!' What a load of crap. They make me ashamed of being a girl. I mean, seriously, you don't need a guy to make you better. They act as if they do," Hanabi muttered, scowling up at the ceiling.

There was silence as Hanabi glowered at the ceiling and Hinata idly wondered what would happen if she showed up to the tea without any makeup; the idea of painting her face didn't appeal to her much.

"Well," said Hanabi, springing up from the mattress, "let's get this over with."

A delicate presence walked about, tousling his hair and giggling at him while he slept. He smirked, trying to stay very still. He had a feeling that if he moved the presence would leave, taking with it the calm that filled him now. It felt good.

But now the presence was fading, the tousling became lighter and lighter until he couldn't feel it altogether, and the giggles receded, echoing strangely and then fading completely.

The pleasant aura was gone.

Sasuke was dragged back to the reality of his desolate jail cell, and the warmth that had enveloped him went away just as quickly as it had come. He scowled, wondering what had ruined his happy moment.

From peering out at the floor, he found the answer: the silver haired man. He had begun to stir, massaging the back of his head that had been forcefully drilled into the wall, moaning slightly.

Sasuke merely put his hands beneath his head, sighing at the realization that he probably wouldn't be able to call back the dream.

"That hurt, you know. You've broken my heart, cellmate. How can I expect to be able to live with you for the duration of my sentence if I have to live in fear of you pushing me into walls or something? Do you see what you've done to this wall," asked the silver hair, gesturing to the depression shaped exactly like a bony man being tormented into the stone.

Sasuke glanced out at the wall. It was true, he had damaged the stone. It had some nasty cracks in it and the shape of a body pressed into it.

He began to smirk as he admired his handiwork. Who said a man was nothing without his chakra?

"Anyway, it seems we got off to a bad start," said the silver haired man as he dusted fine stone dust from the back of his orange jumpsuit.

Sasuke merely gazed at him from his position on the bunk, wondering how the hell this guy wasn't angry. If anyone drilled him into a wall, he'd have to get away before he could murder the guy.

The silver hair walked over confidently to Sasuke, extending a hand and saying cheerily, "I'm Silver." He smiled crookedly down at his cellmate, hand still floating there waiting to be acknowledged.

Sasuke gazed at the bony, pale hand for a long time. Then, instead of shaking it, he turned to his side to face the dirty brown wall again. The faintest of murmurs escaped him.

"Uchiha Sasuke. Now get in your bunk and shut up."