Produce

There was a bar that Hizashi liked to visit when ever he was passing through the area. The sake was good, the food was great but most importantly it had the perfect seat in a dark secluded corner where he could sit alone and clear his head. He found the alcohol especially helpful with that.

As he was pouring himself another glass, his Byakugan detected a man walking towards his table. His clothes looked worn but sturdy and his hardened expression reminded Hizashi of someone who spent his livelihood outdoors. A farmer, perhaps? Hizashi did not change his actions to show that he saw the man but he watched him for a little while longer. There was something about him that was strangely familiar. The man was carrying something like a basket that he carefully maneuvered around the tables as he made his way towards him but at this point Hizashi had already begun to lose interest. Whoever he was, he was sure he could handle him, even in his current state.

"Are you Hyuga Hizashi?"

"That would be me," he answered casually, directing a disinterested gaze at the man standing in front of him while taking a sip of the sake. "Who's asking?"

The man nodded and he took a breath as though he was steeling his nerves. "I'm Terauchi Joji. I'm Musuko's husband."

The name struck him like a bolt of lightning and the good buzz Hizashi had worked on all afternoon vaporized immediately.

Joji's voice hardened as he found more nerves of steel. "Musuko's dead," he said bluntly, not at all concerned with softening the blow for Hizashi. "I'm sorry, I mean, fuck you! Musuko's dead."

Hizashi's eyes were wide with shock as he looked at the widow who was clearly pissed at him but showing amazing amount of control. The Hyuga put his drink down with a shaking hand. "I-I'm so sorry..."

"May I sit down?" Joji interrupted, not at all interested in Hizashi's apology.

Thrown by the sudden request, Hizashi could only nod mutely as he gestured towards the seat in front of him. He ran his hands over his face in a failed attempt to sober up and looked at the man sitting across from him with an admittedly terrified look. He never thought this would come back around.

"I won't keep you long. I just have a few questions," Joji said with a matter-of-fact tone.

"Terauchi..."

"How did you meet?"

"Does that matter now?"

"Yes, you coward, it does. After you destroyed my family, the least you could do is answer my questions."

Hizashi nodded, looking shame-faced and very ill. "We...I was in the village for a mission...bandits."

"So that was you who saved the village while the men were away."

Hizashi nodded. "My team...and I."

"Did it start then?"

"No, ah...later."

"Did you know she was married?"

The Hyuga looked at the man briefly before he averted his gaze with a nod.

Joji sighed harshly as he sat back in his chair, staring hard at the man in front of him as though he found him lacking.

"It wasn't my intent for things to go that far," Hizashi said, feeling compelled to explain himself. "It just happened."

"Nothing just happens," Joji shot back.

"I swear-"

"I don't believe you." Joji glared at him like he was contemplating hitting him right there in the middle of the bar. "Why did you come back to the village? Your mission was over. The bandits were gone yet you came back. Why?"

"I didn't come back for her...I..." The true reason sounded absolutely awful and the shinobi opted to just keep that part to himself.

"I don't like being lied to."

"I'm not lying."

"You owe me the truth after all you've do-"

"I'm NOT lying." For Hizashi, the guilt was slowly receding away to anger as he grew more defensive. "She approached me. I didn't ask to get between your failure of a marriage."

Joji looked away and his face creased with pain. Hizashi ignored the guilt but it was a losing battle.

The farmer continued. "Did she say she wanted to leave me?"

Hizashi sighed. "Yes." He rubbed his face again. He was starting to feel nauseous. "She said you two didn't talk anymore. You were always working, something like that." He couldn't say for sure because he barely remembered that night or the other nights that followed. He was always drunk and quite frankly, he didn't particularly care about the troubles of a lonely farmer's wife. They had struck him as silly. She struck him as silly but she looked good and was more than willing…

"Were you going to run away with her?"

"No!" Hizashi said vehemently. "I wasn't going to do that. I told her I couldn't..."

"Yes, because you're a man of principle, right?" Joji said sarcastically.

Hizashi said nothing but he did reach for his drink to take a long sip. He guessed he deserved that.

"Did she say that she loved you?"

Hizashi did remember that conversation because that was when he decided to stop seeing her. "Yes."

"Do you love her?"

Love her? "No," he answered quietly. He hardly remembered her.

Joji nodded, appearing on the verge of tears. He crossed his arms over his chest in an agitated manner as he took in everything Hizashi told him. The Hyuga sighed. He may not be able to relate to this particular circumstance but he understood what Joji was feeling at a visceral level: betrayal sucks, especially when it comes from someone you love more than life itself.

"Fucking shinobi," the farmer choked out in a harsh whisper, wiping tears from his face awkwardly. "You're like locusts. You just come in and destroy...I knew Musuko was dissatisfied with being a farmer's wife but I was a good husband. I provided for her. I loved her! What did you do? You just used her, you lousy drunk."

Hizashi had nothing to say to that so he didn't try. There were only so many times one can say sorry. He raised his glass to his lips but Joji snatched it away with a snarl.

"Give me that!" The farmer looked at the clear liquid briefly before he drank it down with one shot. He closed his eyes and coughed. "Shit, that's strong." After a moment, he looked at Hizashi with sudden realization. "You didn't ask how Musuko died."

The Hyuga was almost afraid to ask but he played along. "How?"

Joji reached down and grabbed the basket that Hizashi had forgotten about up to this point. His defenses went up reflexively as the farmer placed the basket on the table.

"Childbirth."

Hizashi looked sharply at the other man who removed the blanket from the top of the basket to reveal, not produce as Hizashi naïvely assumed, but a small, sleeping baby.

"Congratulations, it's a boy," Joji said drily.

"What the fuck is this!?"

"Your son," the farmer got up to leave."Your problem."

"Wait!" Hizashi reached out and grabbed the farmer's arm with a steel grip. "You can't be serious. I can't take him."

"I can't stand to look at him," Joji confessed quietly, looking away, "I see Musuko in him."

"He's not my kid," Hizashi said desperately, wanting to believe it. "He's not mine!"

Joji looked at him with hateful eyes as he snatched his arm out of Hizashi's grip. "Don't tell me he's not your kid. He has your eyes, you son of a bitch!" He started to walk off but stopped short with a frustrated sigh. He bowed his head and placed his hands on his hips as though he was having some internal argument with his conscience. "One of the women in my village...nursed him before I brought him here," he said with his back turned to the shinobi. "He'll probably want to eat soon."

He turned to look at Hizashi who was still staring at the baby resting in the basket. His face was pale and he trembled slightly with tension. The look of terror on the Hyuga's face deeply satisfied the farmer.

"I don't ever want to see you or your son again, you hear me?" he said with a tight whisper. "You owe me at least that."

Joji turned and never looked back as he left the bar, satisfied that his life wasn't the only one turned upside down.

~ TBC ~