I don't own naruto

They had entered a small-unknown village and she was currently waiting for Sasuke in a humble, reasonably quiet Café on the outskirts of town.

Seated by the window, glancing out onto the dreary gray sky, watching the droplets of rain streak down the glass. Bringing the cup of tea she, held with both hands up to her mouth, holding it by her lips for a brief second to let the steam warm her face, before carefully taking a sip.

They had forced them selves to keep moving, they couldn't linger in any one place for too long, knowing either one of their enemies would catch up to them.

So being constantly on the run, they skittered from place to place under different guises. It was a testament to their skill at predicting danger and managing to avoid it.

By no mean where they inconspicuous, they could never fully merge with the crowd, her eyes and hair were too distinctive, and Sasuke often caught the eye of many an admirer.

Her thoughts drifted to a more stable time, brief though it had been. When she has successful managed to be unobtrusive, holding a stable job, and residence.

Remembering a particular evening, which she had spent those longs days locked in the warehouse with Kakashi. As stifling as he had been with his attention, he couldn't hide his dispassionate nature. " Are you still searching for the raison d'être. "? He had asked callously one night when she had yet again ignored his advances.

Hinata hadn't answered him, and realizing his mistake he had apologized saying it was an off-handed remark, and allowed the subject to drop.

He'd been right, she was still searching for her reason for living, weren't they all. Recalling the content of the letter word for word, Kaori had said they were like wedding vows. Even now she couldn't be sure of who had sent it.

" I would stop you from feeling rejected whenever some one leaves, I would ease the pressure of your heart, every time you think the worlds left you behind.

I'd let you take out that bitter resentment, and disappointment you have for the way your life has turn out.

And I would fill in that hollowness you feel after wards.

I can't promise that I will heal you, because I am still as much of a jerk as I ever was.

Your life will still have its troubled moments ahead, but no one lives a life with out a little drama. I know you probably snorted at that comment, but I believe those who know the true irony of life can understand it, if just a little. "

Initially she had thought it to be a ploy Kakashi had employed to ensnare her to him. But it didn't make sense, the letter wouldn't be needed, surely he would have just spoken the words to her. Like he often did smothering her and whispering in to her ear. "Its alright, its alright, its alright." he would repeat it again and again like a mantra or a hymn.

Perhaps he believed if he said it enough he could change fate it self, or he was trying to ease his own guilt, to comfort himself from the cold, dark path he chosen to walk down.

It had also occurred to her that it may possibly be Sasuke, but he had never mentioned it. But that meant nothing, because between them there was so much left unsaid.

He hadn't even broached the subject of her being pregnant, nor had she tried to bring it up. Hinata knew the child was Sasuke's, she had only been with Kakashi for a month and the child was developed enough to be around three months, it would start to show soon.

Looking down at the napkin that lay on the table, she decided to reply to the unknown sender. Asking the waitress for a pen she set about composing her response.

How could you possible know the pressure of my heart, know matter how close we may become no one can truly know depth of another.

How would you know what words cut and scar me, whilst compared to being stabbed I would barely flinch.

Don't smother me with false hope, don't lie to me, and white wash everything with vague possibilities.

I don't need to be saved, the life I make is my own the happiness I seek and the sorrow I create is my own.

If I lay path of destruction in my wake would you still want me.

If I left nothing would you still want me.

Folding the napkin into a small triangle, she wedged it under the rim of the wooden table, wondering if anyone would ever read it and understand. Or if in fact it would ever be seen by the mystery writer.