project: Fifty Days
disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, or the characters in it.
summary: "In fifty days, Uchiha Sasuke will be executed." For fifty days, she will visit him. For fifty days, he will fall steadily in love.
pairings: SasuHina, some NaruHina
beta'd: 17.09.2010, by SilveringBlue.
chapter: o2/5o
notes1:
Okay, so I still don't get to be the goddamn Batman, even if I say I am. Not cool, baby, not cool. D8
So, uh, I hope you're all enjoying Fifty Days; whether you're just checking it out now, or rereading for the lulz, or checking out the 2010 beta'd version - that sounds so cool! - then yeah. I just hope you're enjoying it.
- briony
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Hinata blinked blearily, rubbing her eyes and stretching catlike in her bed. She yawned and blinked a few more times, blinking away the last of her dreams—the last of sleep—and grimaced slightly as someone flicked open her blinds. Sunlight streamed into her bedroom, splashing across her face, waking her up fully. The person who had roused her was turned into a silhouette by the bright light—her eyes widened as she realised that person was Neji.
She squeaked despite herself, clutching her blankets up to her chest as her cheeks flushed pale pink. "N—Neji! You didn't have to—you needn't wake me up every morning," she stammered, cursing her bed head and knowing she had that just woken up smell about her. "You could be lying in right now."
She doubted Neji had ever slept late in his entire life—already he was up and dressed, his dark brown hair tied loosely behind his back. He was wearing his uniform, the regal Hyuuga robes. They were as white as snowmaking his skin look almost deathly pale, and yet still handsome and noble—except for a black piece of material which hung around his waist. Despite the early hour, she noticed that he still had his headband tied around his forehead, hiding the tattoo which showed he was part of the branch clan. She wondered, briefly, if he was still so ashamed of it. She knew he shouldn't be. His face, with its high cheekbones, was stern—once, she had scolded him for constantly frowning. Now, however, as the time had passed, his face had become more relaxed to the point of being content.
He studied her face quickly, briefly, as he did every morning, checking to see if she were ill or hurt or if anything else was wrong; she wondered if it was because he was part of the branch clan, and therefore had to protect her, or if it was simple love for her.
She would have asked him, but she never had the courage.
"You should get dressed quickly, Hinata," he stated, his eyes flicking back to the window. "There is someone waiting to see you."
She'd have asked him who, but he didn't look like he was going to answer any questions. Instead, he spunon his heels, striding quickly towards the door, flicking on the light. He hesitated for a moment, before glancing back over his shoulder at her. "And…" He hesitated again, before his lips quirked into the smallest of smiles. "Hinata, it is hardly a chore waking you up in the morning. If I didn't, who would?"
Before she could reply, or even register his joke, he'd slipped out of the room and closed the door gently, but firmly, behind him. For a second, she remained sat completely still beneath her blankets—then her face cracked into a grin and she chuckled slightly to herself. She loved her cousin, and she always had, despite the fact that he had once scared her so terribly. Yet even at that time, she had felt more pity and sadness for him than fright; when she was younger, she used to pass his bedroom at night and hear the soft, heaving sobs.
She used to sway outside his door, summoning up the courage to step inside, to comfort him, to tell him that she would be there for him always, no matter what—but her stammer had been much worse then, and her nerves had been constantly frazzled, and it had taken her far too long to summon up that courage.
It had taken her sixteen years too long.
She realised now that she shouldn't have been so scared of him. She realised now that she could have halted his hatred, could have accepted him, could have made him smile, had she only been brave enough. Every single time she had gotten ready to knock on his door, she would realise that she could no longer hear the weeping and that he was surely asleep by now. And she would shake her head sadly and return to her room.
Hinata's smile turned almost sad for a moment—and then she remembered that someone was waiting for her and she scrambled across her bed, peering through the blinds. For a few seconds, she couldn't spot anyone—after all, she was looking for Kiba or Shino or (hopefully) Naruto—and then she saw Tsunade leaning against a tree, looking thunderous. She watched in bewilderment as Neji crossed over to meet her, murmuring something, and Tsunade snapped back at him.
Her eyes widened.
It couldn't be that the Hokage was the person waiting for her, could it?
She figured that yes, it was extremely possible and very likely, because why else would she be stood across the road, looking impatient, and why else would Neji be trying his very hardest to calm her down?
Hinata practically flung herself off the bed, which resulted in her staggering towards her wardrobe, off balance. She pulled out some plain underwear and yanked on her navy shorts, complete with a navy vest, and then threw on her usual lilac jacket. She definitely had to be ready for anything, now that she'd kept the Hokage waiting, and she expected she'd probably needed for a mission—why else would the Hokage wish to talk to her? She dressed quickly, straightening her jacket as best as possible and brushing out any creases, then combed through her hair, gently easing out any knots. Finally, she scooped up her forehead protector, racing out of the door as quickly as possible.
Hanabi stepped out of the bathroom, brushing her teeth, and threw Hinata a bottle of perfume. "I heard the Hokage was waiting for you, sister. You need to wake up earlier."
"I know, Hanabi," she said, spraying her wrists and neck quickly, waiting as Hanabi returned from the bathroom again, this time carrying Hinata's toothbrush. "Thank you."
Hanabi rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you'd do without Neji and me—sometimes, you can be so unorganised, sister."
Hinata's cheeks flushed. "I'd be lost without you two."
"We know."
She smiled gratefully, passing her sister the toothbrush (who simply rolled her eyes again), and then continued along the corridor, sprinting down the stairs. She bowed her head as she passed her father, who simply gestured for her to hurry along, and then slipped out of the front door, just as Neji opened it. He stared at her, his gaze turning critical—she fidgeted slightly beneath his scrutinizing.
Then he reached out, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "You have toothpaste on your cheek, Hinata."
She blushed furiously.
He rubbed for a few more seconds before stepping back, obviously proud of his work—then he checked her over once again, before nodding slowly. "Have a nice day, Hinata," he murmured, stepping out of her way, so that she could pass him.
She bowed her head low, respectfully, before straightening and smiling—she noticed he stiffened, much as he always did whenever she bowed to him. "You too, N—Neji," she said, before turning and making a bee-line towards the fuming Hokage.
As Hinata approached, she studied her Hokage carefully. It wasn't often she'd seen Tsunade as mad as this, although the female Hokage did undoubtedly have a fiery temper; usually, she was only ever angered when someone complained about the amount of sake she drank. Since usually only Naruto or Shizune, or very rarely Sakura, dared to make this comment, Tsunade's explosions were infrequent. Now, though, Hinata wasn't at all sure what could have happened to make her Hokage this furious—it couldn't be her own lateness, as Kakashi was often late and that rarely bothered Tsunade.
Unless…
Hinata blanched. Had there been some rule against her visiting Uchiha Sasuke, yesterday? She hadn't heard one—at least, Tsunade hadn't mentioned any rules, other than the ones regarding Naruto and Sakura, when Hinata had been eavesdropping. Maybe she should have stayed for longer—maybe Tsunade had said something after her departure.
She neared the Hokage and stopped a respectful, and safe, distance away from her. Tsunade inspected her slowly, her anger barely concealed, mouth a thin line and eyes narrowed. Then she turned away, beckoning for Hinata to follow.
She did.
They walked in silence for a while, with Hinata just a few steps behind the older woman. Although Hinata had never actually seen her Hokage fight, she had heard that the woman's strength was unrivalled. In fact, Sakura's strength—which Hinata had seen on many an occasion—she knew to be only a fraction of Tsunade's full strength.
That thought was scary. She shuddered, and the small movement caught Tsunade's eye. The Hokage stopped, suddenly, and Hinata almost bumped into her; she managed to dodge around her just in time, however, skidding to the side and almost pirouetting. A small smile crept onto her face at the averted disaster—it seemed her Hyuuga training had come in handy, after all.
Her smile slid off her face as her eyes met Tsunade's. The two women stared at each other for a second, and then Tsunade sighed heavily, anger visibly draining from her.
"Hinata…"
She ran a hand through her hair, sighing again.
"Do you have any idea how much paperwork you've given me? The council want all access to Sasuke cut off from visitors—they're saying he's too hostile, too unpredictable, there are too many risks—and it's a reasonable point, after all. He's a dangerous criminal. In fifty days, he will be executed. There are far too many risks and we can't let him escape, not now…"
Hinata paled. "Lady Hokage, you can't be c—considering this!" she cried, forgetting herself for a moment, and Tsunade raised her eyebrow.
"I have to consider this. It's my job."
Hinata hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering across the street—she glanced at the villagers, laughing and joking, unaware of the prison on the outskirts of Konoha; unaware of the Uchiha within, lonely, forgotten; unaware of the pain they were causing heroes like Naruto—and she promptly dropped to her knees.
Tsunade's eyes widened.
"Please, Lady Hokage."
Her voice was steady and strong—she gazed at the ground beneath her, her hair shrouding her face, hiding her expression; but her emotions were clear in her voice. "Please, Lady Hokage," she repeated, finding her courage. "Let me visit Uchiha S—Sasuke for an hour each day, for fifty days—even if you c—cannot let anyone else visit him—even if the room has to be p—packed with ANBU—please, just let me v—visit him!"
The Hokage raised an eyebrow, crouching down in front of Hinata and reaching forwards—gently, but firmly, she tilted the younger woman's face upwards, so that she could gaze into the pale lilac eyes.
"Why? You barely knew the Uchiha. Why would you do something like this for him?"
Hinata looked away.
That was when Tsunade realised. "You overheard, didn't you? My conversation with Naruto and Sakura… You're not doing this for Sasuke; you're doing this for Naruto. You felt his pain and you tried to heal it in the only way you can—by making sure Uchiha Sasuke doesn't die a lonely death."
The Hokage straightened, gesturing for Hinata to do the same—she did so, staggering slightly, ashamed at how selfish her reasons were, waiting for Tsunade to shake her head—but the blonde woman said nothing, staring into the distance, looking dazed and preoccupied.
After a while, the silence was broken.
"You're a kind girl, Hinata. Naïve, but kind." Tsunade smiled wearily, rubbing her chin. "Very well. I'll fight for you when I go and see the council, later on. You've got a good head on your shoulders and you're an heiress—somehow, I doubt it will be hard to fight your case."
Hinata didn't bother correcting her.
She was too busy smiling.
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After her (sort of) victory, Hinata decided she would treat herself to ramen. She had never really liked ramen, not even when she'd realised that Naruto adored the stuff. She had never really liked noodles in general and much preferred her sister's homemade cinnamon rolls. It had only been after her confession to Naruto that she'd started to eat the stuff.
The mere thought of ramen would make her remember—make her remember the courage she'd had to summon up, to say the three tiny words—make her remember the pain she'd felt, as she'd charged at Pein and then been swiped away so easily—make her remember the overwhelming shame she'd eventually felt, as she'd realised she was still as weak as before—make her remember the happiness she'd felt when she'd heard that her confession had evoked something in Naruto, something dark and deadly, but an emotion all the same—and then she would try her hardest to forget it all again.
Naruto had never really answered her confession. For a while, in fact, it seemed as though he had been avoiding her—and when she'd finally summoned up the courage to ask him for that date, he'd seemed so reluctant.
"He's probably saving himself for Sakura…" Hinata mumbled, frowning slightly, feeling bitter and anxious and hoping more than anything that they could rearrange that date.
"Who's saving himself for Sakura?"
Hinata squeaked, Hyuuga training kicking in once again (and at the wrong time, once again) as she (span) spun around to face the newcomer, finishing in a slight crouch, one palm extended, the other high above her head.
Kiba chuckled slightly, holding his hands up in surrender, and grinning, with Akamaru stood by his side. Hinata relaxed immediately, a furious blush returning to her cheeks—really now, who else would sneak up on her like that? She straightened, brushing down her jacket and feeling ridiculous. Kiba laughed again, before pointing at the ramen hut. "You heading this way?" he asked, tilting his head, his eyes lighting up playfully.
Hinata nodded.
"Don't mind if I join you then, right?" He said, and she shook her head—he laughed again, another sharp sound, much like barking, and then swung his arm around her shoulders lazily. "Akamaru and I just came back from a bounty mission—easy, really, had to be at least a B rank, but Tsunade wanted us to do it anyway, and it paid well."
They stepped into the Ichiraku Ramen Bar and Hinata found herself instantly holding her breath—Kiba must have felt her tense, because he snuck a glance at her, obviously hoping she hadn't noticed—and then she sighed, both disappointed and relieved, when she realised Naruto wasn't there. He was probably training, she decided.
Teuchi beamed at them as the two shinobi entered, and sat down, and, after a nod from Kiba, placed two bowls down in front of them. He frowned as Akamaru sat down next to Kiba, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, and failing due to his size. "This is a restaurant, Inuzuka, not a…" He trailed off, his voice strained. "Not a vets!"
Akamaru barked loudly before, after a hissed command from an irritated Kiba, he slunk back outside to sit in the sunshine in the front of the restaurant.
Hinata snapped her chopsticks apart and began chasing some noodles around the bowl. Kiba ate messily beside her and she wondered how long it would be before Teuchi started asking Kiba to sit outside as well.
"Have I missed much?" Kiba asked eventually, after slurping down the last of his noodles—he eyed Hinata's bowl hungrily and she passed it over gratefully, still not all that fond of ramen. "I mean, anything big happen while I was away?"
"Sasuke c—came back."
She waited. It normally took Kiba a little while to register ideas as huge as that one, seeing as he tended to like to keep things simple—he was intelligent, of course, but he believed the best plans were the simplest—and, when he finally realised what she'd said, he placed his chopsticks back onto the table and turned to her. His expression was carefully blank.
"By 'came back', you mean he was caught, don't you?"
She nodded.
"Was it Naruto?" he asked eventually, his eyes widening when she shook her head. "Really? Sasuke was just… caught?"
"As far as we know."
Kiba leaned back in his chair and whistled appreciatively, the surprise evident on his face—and then the surprise turned to annoyance. "You mean, we spent all that time tracking and chasing that sonovabitch, and he was just caught by some freaking ANBU?"
She wasn't really that surprised to hear the anger and irritation in his voice—she was certain that was how Naruto had felt. All those promises and none of them had really come to anything.
"That was all it took?"
She nodded.
"Naruto…" Kiba trailed off, before laughing bitterly. "I bet he was pissed off—he spent so long chasing after the Uchiha—spent so long getting stronger and better—and he was beaten to his prize by a couple of ANBU."
There wasn't much else she could do except nod again.
"D'you know what's happening to him?" he asked, peering at her sideways, watching her, waiting for her response.
"As far as I know, he's b—being held down at the prison," Hinata mumbled, unsure of whether or not the fact that Sasuke was going to be executed was known yet; she decided she wouldn't say, just in case no one was supposed to know. "I don't know much more than that."
Kiba whistled again and they sat in silence for a couple of minutes, the bowls of ramen untouched in front of them. Teuchi picked them up, one empty, one half-full, and took them away, but Hinata barely noticed them go. Kiba was too busy staring vacantly at the ceiling to notice anything.
"Have you been to see Shino yet?" Hinata asked finally.
"Huh?" Kiba blinked, obviously startled by her question, and she waited a few seconds before repeating it. He ran his hands through his hair, flashing his usual cocky grin. "Yeah, I'd better do that quickly, otherwise he'll just get annoyed."
Kiba straightened, reaching into his pocket and then placing a few coins down on the counter—Teuchi scooped them up, murmuring his thanks, and Hinata found herself blushing. "K—Kiba, I could have paid for mine," she mumbled, and he just grinned. "B—but thanks, anyway."
"It's no problem," he ruffled her hair, his grin widening when she squeaked and batted his hand gently away. He backed out of the bar, whistling for Akamaru, and then waved once at her. "See you around, Hinata!"
"Have a good day, Kiba," she called back.
"I'll try."
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Hinata stopped into the flower shop before visiting Sasuke, deciding she'd buy a couple of flowers to brighten up the room—it had been so cold and unwelcoming in there. Ino waved to her as she walked inside.
"Back again so soon, Hinata?" the blonde girl asked, leaning over the counter and pointing in the direction of the roses. "Do you want a couple more of those, or something different?"
"(N—)Neji isn't feeling so well," Hinata lied, easily, fluently. "I need some flowers which will b—brighten up his day."
Ino's face darkened at the mention of her cousin—who had been, so far, one of the only two men not to fall for the blonde's seductions (the other being Sasuke)—and then she smiled, the sympathy clear on her face, as she walked out from behind the counter. She patted her hands down on her pale green apron, before scooping up a few blue flowers, and a couple of yellow roses. She walked away from Hinata, lying the flowers down on the counter, and then beckoned for the Hyuuga to follow.
Hinata walked over, her hands clasped in front of her, standing in front of the other girl, as Ino began arranging and cutting and chopping and changing. There were ten flowers in total—five yellow roses, fresh and bright, and five other flowers, which were a deep, rich blue. She recognised the latter as irises from her flower pressing kit.
"The irises are pretty common," Ino admitted, wrapping the flowers up in silver paper. "But they're nice and bright and, depending on the situation, they can mean practically anything. Blue is the perfect choice for a kind of 'get well soon' message, or sympathy, which I'm sure you feel for your cousin."
Hinata nodded.
"A typical red rose would signal love," Ino continued, "but the yellow roses are more of a friendship thing. They make you feel all sunny and bright inside, if you get what I'm saying—I figured your cousin could use a few sunny feelings. The blue and the yellow colours are both pretty bright as well and they contrast nicely. I guarantee they'll brighten your cousin's day in no time at all."
Hinata nodded again, before asking, "Do you have any v—vases? We don't have many at home, and I'd like these to last a while."
"Wait just one second!" Ino grinned, holding up her index finger and then hurrying away into the backroom. For a second, there was silence—then there was a smash and a yelp, followed quickly by a curse, and then a dishevelled Ino darted back in, clutching a clear vase. "Here you go," she grunted, passing the vase over to Hinata and then glancing at the backroom. "I'd better clear that up…"
Hinata left Ino to her tidying, placing a few coins down on the counter, adamantly insisting that she couldn't just take another few flowers and a vase for free, and then hurried down the street, heading towards the Main Gates and therefore towards Konoha's prison.
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Ibiki raised an eyebrow. "When Lady Tsunade said to prepare the Uchiha's prison for visitors, I didn't expect to see you again," he stated bluntly, and Hinata fidgeted under his gaze. He gestured at the flowers. "What are those for?"
"They're for S—Sasuke."
"He doesn't deserve them." Ibiki snapped, before letting his features soften. "I'm going to have to search them, just to check."
Hinata handed them over.
It didn't take long for Ibiki to realise that he'd never have to expect any trouble from someone like Hinata—she was far too nice for any of that nonsense. In fact, he'd thought she was far too nice to fall in love with a traitor like Uchiha Sasuke.
He didn't realise how wrong he was.
"You're far too kind, Hinata."
She shrugged one shoulder, obviously embarrassed. Was that shame he detected in her eyes? How curious.
"He doesn't deserve any visitors."
"You s—said that before, Ibiki."
"I'll keep saying it too."
Hinata fell silent and he sighed, handing her back the flowers. Fine. If she wanted to get mixed up with someone like Sasuke, then he could hardly stop her, no matter how much he wanted to. And Lady Tsunade had forbidden him to tell anyone that the Uchiha was receiving visitors, most of all that loud-mouthed blonde kid, Uzumaki Naruto.
He gestured for her to follow him and they walked steadily across the bridge, her with her flowers and him with his frown.
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"You've got a visitor, Uchiha, again," Ibiki snapped, rapping his knuckles on the glass and, just like the day before, Sasuke made no effort to look up. After all, he already knew who it was, so why should he? "Try to be nice."
There was the sound of chair legs scraping gently across the ground—a chink of glass as she placed something down on the table they'd put there earlier—a rustle of paper as she unwrapped something—and then there were two pairs of footsteps, as the ANBU guards moved forwards. Ibiki sighed loudly. "Don't bother—it's already been checked." And then the door swung shut, and Ibiki left.
"You're back again," the female ANBU stated blankly. "Why?"
"I p—promised."
Sasuke's lips twitched into an unseen smile, although there was no joy in it—it was sad and bitter and angry and frustrated, and definitely not happy, no, not at all—before looking upwards. His eyes met Hinata's straight away and they looked at each other for a long time. Finally, Sasuke allowed curiosity to get the better of him, and his eyes flickered towards the package he'd heard her unwrapping beforehand.
He arched an eyebrow, gazing at the vase and the blue and yellow flowers, and then his gaze snapped back to Hinata.
"Flowers."
To be truthful, he'd been expecting anything except flowers—maybe food for herself and a drink, or something for her to read, but definitely not flowers. She nodded firmly, her eyes never leaving his face.
"Flowers," he stated again, and then he smirked—it was the kind of smirk that would have come off arrogant and mocking beforehand. Now, with his chakra drained and his body drugged, it seemed lopsided.
Hinata nodded again, pushing them forwards—and that distracted him. He found himself staring at them, almost transfixed, and he decided that the drugs were ridiculously effective. Sasuke had never really liked flowers—useless, girly things, and how would they ever help him in life?—but looking at them now, it was as though they were the only things that mattered. They were a small part of the world outside his prison. They were a small part of his old life.
He wondered if Hinata realised that.
He glanced back at her, looking into her eyes and, after a moments consideration, he realised she did—she knew exactly what the flowers meant to him.
"They're from I—Ino's flower shop," she said finally, reaching into the vase and picking up a yellow flower and a blue flower—she showed him the blue flower first. "These ones are irises; she said they symbolise s—sympathy," and then she thrust the yellow flower at him. "And these ones are roses; yellow roses mean f—friendship, but r—red roses mean love."
He titled his head slightly. "How fitting."
"We used to g—grow roses," Hinata mumbled, her cheeks tinged pink. "Red roses and they used t—to climb all the way up my wall. They were wonderful; beautiful. Then my f—father said they were a n—nuisance and Neji had to go out and chop them down. I begged my father not to; I said they were too beautiful to be d—destroyed; but he told N—Neji to go ahead anyway. After he'd chopped them down, Neji came to my bedroom with two red roses and a book; he told me I s—should hold onto the t—things I love most, for fear they get torn down. I put the roses inside the book and I took up flower pressing."
She fell silent, turning the yellow rose over in her hands, letting the blue iris drift to the floor—behind her, the two ANBU exchanged glances, but otherwise remained silent. Sasuke gazed at the iris for a moment, forgotten in favour for the rose, and then his eyes flickered back to Hinata.
He hesitated before finally speaking, and when he did his voice was unnaturally strained.
"My…"
She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised, obviously interested.
"…My family didn't grow flowers. My father thought they were useless. My mother thought they took up too much time. My brother… he didn't really care much about anything. And because he didn't have an opinion, I didn't care for flowers either."
He froze, a curious expression on his face—almost homesickness, but also bewildered, as though he had no clue where the words were coming from or why he was speaking. The drugs, his mind whispered—and he decided that he'd simply blame everything on those dreaded drugs.
"My mother was a practical woman. In our garden, instead of flowers, she grew vegetables. She grew carrots and lettuce and cucumber and… tomatoes. Whenever I saw flowers, I would scoff. I thought they were silly—they were vain—the people who grew them were vainer still. Look at these flowers, I thought, what are they useful for? I'd choose my tomatoes over them any day. But…"
His voice became strangled.
"…After… After it happened, when I went back to my home for the first time, the vegetable patch was burnt to the ground. There was nothing left. But someone… someone had planted a rose there—it was blood red and I thought… I thought…"
He stopped.
What had he thought?
At the time, he'd cried at the injustice of it all—he'd been so angry. His mother had spent years on her beloved vegetable patch and then someone, some idiot, had planted a dirty rose there, in its place. He'd hated that rose. But his hatred had never stopped him from coming back day after day, nurturing it, until eventually there was the smallest rose bush. He'd laughed at the irony of it all—his poor flower-hating parents would be turning in their graves if he knew he was respecting their memory by planting a flower over their vegetable patch. And then his hatred and his anger and the bitter irony had turned into wistful memories—that rose bush reminded him of his mother's smile, of his father's pride, of his admiration for his brother.
But he couldn't say all of that—he couldn't find the words to say it, or the guts, or the nerve—and so he just looked straight into Hinata's eyes and tried his hardest to convey all the feelings.
She smiled.
"I—understand."
The conversation ended after that. Sasuke felt ashamed of himself for revealing such a weakness, with others in the room. Hinata's sympathy for him was obvious. He could feel the two ANBU members' surprise, mingled with their disdain and pity. Pathetic.
He was pathetic.
He closed his eyes and he didn't say another word. The ANBU murmured something quietly to Hinata and he heard her chair scrape backwards as she stood up. She moved silently across the floor, reminding him that she was a kunoichi, and then paused just outside the door. "I'll come and see you again tomorrow, S—Sasuke," she said, and he knew that she was smiling.
"Hn."
"Goodbye."
The door clicked shut. Sasuke waited for a moment, before opening his eyes. His gaze fell to the single blue iris, still lying on the floor, still forgotten, and then flickered towards the yellow rose. Friendship and sympathy, huh?
His lips twisted into a bitter smile.
Fifty days, then. She was going to visit him for fifty days. How… kind of her.
He doubted he deserved it.
.
.
As Hinata left, Ibiki caught her sleeve, tugging her around to face him. His eyes were gentle and yet still stern and, despite the gentleness, he still terrified her. He opened his mouth to say something, stopped, and then sighed.
"He doesn't deserve it."
"I know."
"He isn't worth it."
She didn't respond.
Ibiki scowled, looking at her hard. "…You're not going to rethink this decision, then?" he asked finally, his voice strangled and strained.
She shook her head.
"…Fine," Ibiki let go of her sleeve. "Lady Tsunade stopped by with a message for you. She said that the council has okayed this. You're allowed to visit Uchiha Sasuke—I can't stop you. The only condition is that you refrain from telling anyone else. Do not tell your family, your friends, and definitely do not tell Uzumaki Naruto. Understand?"
"Thank you, I—Ibiki."
He merely waved her away in response.
.
.
It was awful.
She had not expected the ruins of the Uchiha clan's legacy to be this terrible. All of the houses—every single little thing—had been burnt to the ground. Not too far away, she spotted a rusted blade, moss growing on the handle; the bodies, of course, were long gone. The third Hokage had said that no one was to build over the ashes, in respect for those who had died there. More than anything, it was sad—lonely.
She stepped over a broken piece of wood, a slate from a roof, a piece of glass, trudging gingerly through the wreck, searching for something.
Searching for a rose bush.
Eventually, she found it. It wasn't that hard—the bush was the only thing still standing. Vivid red and green, in perfect contrast with the black and grey around it. It was the only colour for miles around.
She reached towards the bush, gently fingering one rose—stroking the blood red petals—and she was struck by the sadness of it all. She reached for a kunai and carefully, oh so carefully, cut one rose away from the bunch. Then she took it home and placed it in jar filled midway with water, beside her bed.
That night, she found herself lying awake, thinking.
His eyes, when he'd spoken of that rose bush… The emotions had been so real and so contrasting; they'd been hurt and scared and sad and lonely; but there had been the oddest fondness hidden deep within them, trying its hardest to shine through.
That night, she found herself lying awake, thinking of the one person she had never really thought of before.
She found herself thinking of Uchiha Sasuke.