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
notes1: "OH. MY. GAWD. 101 REVIEWS? you are babes. all of you. and because of your loveliness, and the fact that i am giddy with happiness, i offer you all another chapter"
chapter: o7/5o

Tsunade was a smart woman—bossy and obnoxiously loud at times, yes, and manipulative, if you asked Jiraiya; she'd been described by other shinobi as hot-headed and outspoken—but, above all, she was intelligent.

When she'd first become Hokage, she'd simply sat in her office—and she'd had to remind herself time and time again that it was her office now; it no longer belonged to Sarutobi, with his wrinkled forehead and warm smile. It belonged to her. She'd sat at the desk, sorting through the folders and files, flipping through bingo books, until she'd found herself unable to think of anything else to do; and so she had begun to pace, simply brushing her fingertips along surfaces. It was as though she could feel the decisions that had been made in that room; made by others, as well as herself—and the decisions she was going to have to make.

She'd ended her pacing by flopping back into her seat, suddenly exhausted. She'd stopped thinking of the events that had happened—of that brat, Naruto, and his bratty mentor, Jiraiya—and she'd let her mind turn blank. She'd slumped back in the chair, idly pulling open a drawer, searching for something to stop her from thinking altogether.

She'd found herself a bottle of sake—probably something Sarutobi had been saving, she'd mused, as she'd popped the bottle open and taken a swig. As she'd sat there, drinking her troubles away, letting her mind turn fuzzy and her vision go blurred, she'd spun her chair around, peering out of the window at the village.

Her village.

She'd seen all of the lights, flickering behind closed curtains and in doorways—all of the people tucked safely in bed, depending on her. Relying on her. The weight of her newfound responsibility had dawned on her then, as she'd realised that every single person in that village trusted her.

She couldn't run anymore.

Her responsibility was great, and she could either be crushed by it, or carry it easily upon her shoulders. No matter what, she wouldn't give up. She'd hold her head high and take whatever was thrown at her.

She had people relying on her, now. Her life no longer revolved around gambling—the most important thing wasn't whether or not she had a bed for the night, or food for herself and Shizune. That no longer mattered. She couldn't put herself first anymore—there were so many other people to think of. Had she been anyone else, Tsunade might have placed her head in her hands and sobbed bitterly into the night. But she wasn't anyone else.

In fact, she'd simply drunk herself into a stupor.

She'd woken up entirely naked, sprawled across the Hokage's desk, with Shizune stood in front of her, looking absolutely horrified.

Despite her sometimes reckless and irresponsible personality, Tsunade was definitely crafty. Since then, she'd matured greatly; she'd learnt ways to get what she wanted, without openly stating what she'd wanted. She'd learnt how to change the opinions of an entire room, of an entire village, in her favour. She'd learnt to that every single person in Konoha was different—every single person had a valid opinion—and she had learnt how to treat each person. She'd learnt how to compromise.

There'd been times where she'd stopped smiling—where she'd wanted nothing more than to sit down and rest her head in her hands, and just sleep. There'd been times where she wanted to throw things—to shout and storm and rage, until all of the anger left her. There'd been times when she'd disagreed so vehemently—when her opinion had been belittled and trodden upon—and she'd simply had to grit her teeth and bear it.

But that was part of being the Hokage, and with every frown, there came a happy face—with every shout of rage, there came a cry of triumph—with every raised fist, there came an outstretched hand of friendship.

With every enemy, there came an ally—a friend.

The village had agreed that she was a fine Hokage—practically every shinobi had nodded in approval. She'd been compared, occasionally, to the Third; she was already considered greater than the First and Second. She would never live up to the Fourth, but that was okay. That was fine.

She had plenty of time to change their minds.

"Lady Tsunade," Shizune's voice broke through her thoughts and startled her back to reality. "The Council wishes to see you urgently."

Tsunade groaned, surreptitiously reaching into an open drawer and pulling out a half-full bottle of sake. She straightened, slipping the alcohol into the inside of her jacket, before walking briskly around her desk. She paused briefly, eyeing Shizune, trying to see from the younger woman's face as to whether the occasion was good or bad—but Shizune's expression was unreadable.

She sighed. "Is it important?"

"I'd assume so," Shizune replied, fiddling idly with Tonton's jacket. "I mean, they don't often call for you out of the blue; normally it takes longer for them to gather the Council together, for a meeting."

"They probably started it without me, then," Tsunade snapped, her brow furrowing as she rushed past her assistant and out of the door—she heard Shizune mumble something, obviously disgruntled, before catching up quickly. "They don't have the authority to start a meeting without the Hokage—which means that those old farts are acting on their own again."

"It's about Sasuke."

She frowned, sneaking a sideways glance at her assistant—but Shizune's face was carefully blank, and she avoided Tsunade's gaze.

"…what makes you say that?"

"You've… disagreed with the Council on a number of things, concerning the Uchiha—whether it's for the better or the worst, I don't know, but it's a fact that you haven't quite seen eye to eye," Shizune explained, "The most likely scenario is that they disagree absolutely with something you're doing, about the Uchiha, and so they're discussing it together. Lady Tsunade, I think you might have to back down."

"Shizune, if I back any further down, I'll become a coward and they will walk all over me," Tsunade replied steadily, raising an eyebrow as she slowed to a halt outside the grand doors of the Council Hall.

Shizune looked away, sheepishly, knocking briskly on the door; they waited for a moment, listening to the low drone of a Council member speaking, before knocking once again. Finally, there was a reply, and the lock clicked open—the doors began to swing open from the inside, and Tsunade straightened her clothes, dusting herself down and making sure that the sake bottle was entirely hidden from sight.

As she was about to step through the doors, Shizune grasped the hem of her coat, causing her to stagger to a halt, peering back over her shoulder. Her assistant met her eyes.

"I don't think you can win this one, Tsunade."

She pulled away.

"I can try."

With that, the doors shut slowly—Tsunade glanced back over her shoulder, spotting her assistant through the narrow gap. Shizune seemed lost in thought; no doubt she was thinking of Uchiha Sasuke, and the trouble he had caused. Or Hinata, and the trouble she had caused. The Hokage snorted softly, shaking her head.

There was something she'd never thought of; Hyuuga Hinata, causing trouble. It was unheard of. Surprising. Ridiculously funny.

Take your pick.

"Lady Hokage, please be seated," someone called, and she strode briskly across the hall, to her seat in front of the rest of the Council.

Konoha Council was actually made up of three people—herself, as the Hokage, an elderly shinobi named Homura Mitokado, and an elderly kunoichi, named Koharu Utatane, both of whom were retired. The rest of the 'Council' were actually just intelligent shinobi, who offered a fresh perspective on the ideas created by the inner circle of the council. Ever since the entire Pein event, Tsunade hadn't quite seen eye to eye with the other Council members on anything—rather than decisions being made, it had turned into a competition; a battle.

It was ridiculous.

Tsunade sat down, gazing directly forwards and meeting the eyes of the other council members; distantly, she spotted Shikamaru's father sat at the back of the hall. Her eyes flickered to the doorway, and there was Shikamaru himself—he'd been present in the meeting before, where Tsunade had been forced to cave in and agree with the Council, that Sakura and Naruto should not meet with Sasuke.

He smiled grimly at her, but otherwise didn't move. She nodded her acknowledgement, waiting for the room to fall entirely silent.

To her left, Homura stood up.

"Lady Hokage," he began, and his voice was soft and low—if he'd been anyone else, his voice would have no doubt put her to sleep; but this was most certainly important, and it was in her best interests to listen closely. "It has come to the Council's attention—"

"—may I first remind the Council that they cannot begin a meeting without the Hokage," Tsunade interrupted, her voice deadly calm, but her eyes betraying the fury she felt. "You do not have the authority to begin a session, without my presence."

"I can assure you, Lady Hokage—it was of entirely important," Homura replied easily, barely offering her a glance and therefore angering her greatly. She was fed up of being dismissed so easily. Even so, she fell silent, waiting for him to continue. "As I was saying, before I was interrupted; it has come to the Council's attention that Uchiha Sasuke—an S-rank criminal, and a traitor to our village—has not released any information on the whereabouts of the Akatsuki. In fact, if our information is correct, the youngest Uchiha has not told us anything."

Tsunade scowled, linking her hands together and leaning forwards slightly, as she attempted to think of a rebuttal—already she could feel the eyes of Koharu and Homura on her back, arrogant and superior. No, that wasn't quite correct.

After all, they only had the best interests of the village at heart.

"We discussed this at our last meeting concerning the Uchiha, Lady Hokage," Homura continued, "And yet, no progress has been made. An explanation is in order."

Tsunade stood slowly, gathering her thoughts as she attempted to think of a valid argument. Now was not the time to mention Hinata—she hadn't informed the Council of Hinata's involvement, and had sworn Ibiki to secrecy. It would be better that they thought Sasuke was entirely alone, every moment of the day, except from the ANBU. She definitely couldn't mention the fact that he was entertaining a visitor for an hour each day, until his execution.

Still, she expected people would begin to suspect such a thing was happening, after a while—she'd refrained from giving Hinata any missions, so far, in an attempt to free up her evening. Soon, someone would realise that a perfectly good kunoichi was doing nothing each day—perhaps her friends would realise first.

No doubt Shikamaru was already well on his way to working such a thing out.

Her frown darkened, but she cleared her throat and began to speak anyway. "Uchiha Sasuke is a… stubborn individual. There is no way he would bow into such torture; he values his pride much more than that. He is stronger than you think—of course, you would assume so, considering the terrible ordeals he has been through, and the horrors he has faced."

"The murder of his clan holds no importance, or relevance, to this issue," Koharu cut softly across, before waving one hand in disinterest. "Continue."

Tsunade narrowed her eyes, gazing frostily forwards. "Perhaps, in your opinion, it doesn't—but I understand Uchiha Sasuke, to a certain extent. If he were to show any weakness, after everything he has been through, it would destroy him; and so, there is absolutely no way he will cave in to Ibiki's methods of torture. I believe, if you don't mind me saying, fellow Council members; that we are moving about this in entirely the wrong way."

"And how would you suggest we deal with this problem, Tsunade?" Homura asked, but his voice was mocking.

"We let someone he trusts speak to him—let them find out. No doubt, during the time he has left, he will see that he has no choice but to open up and tell us what he knows," Tsunade continued, spreading her arms and gazing at each member of the floor in turn. "Uchiha Sasuke is a hurt, bewildered child. He was not born a monster. Even now, there is part of him which can still love. There is part of him that wants to open up. But if we back him into a corner, he will hiss and spit and strike out at us like a wild cat."

"You want us to show a traitor such compassion, Lady Hokage?" Homura snapped, the disbelief in his voice obviously fake. "Perhaps you have been won over by Uzumaki Naruto's charming smile, but we have not; Sasuke has obviously changed, and he is no longer the person we once knew. Rather, now he is a monster—and, like all monsters, he must be put in his place. He must be slain. You must remember, Lady Hokage; the only reason he has even fifty days, is because you informed us that he would hold information that would help us, as a village. Where is this information? I am beginning to believe it might not be as important as you have made out."

"He no doubt played a part in the destruction of Konoha," Koharu stated blankly, her gaze boring a hole in Tsunade's skull. "He is, after all, a member of Akatsuki. He murdered Orochimaru, one of the greatest minds the world has ever seen."

"Orochimaru was a murderer—he killed the Third Hokage!"

"A minor setback; he could be trained," Koharu replied dismissively, before standing as well, and gazing out at the floor. "Fellow shinobi, if we show Uchiha Sasuke compassion, we will appear cowardly. We cannot allow this to happen."

"As before, Ibiki will question the traitor," Homura continued, pushing his glasses up his nose as he spoke. "All those against this motion, raise your hands now."

Tsunade's hand shot straight into the air, like an arrow; she watched as Shikamaru raised his own hand lazily—but, other than the two of them, there were barely any others who agreed. A few hands, scattered across the Hall, all raised; but not enough.

Not even half.

"All those in favour, raise your hands now."

She could practically hear Homura's smirk, as almost every hand shot up, defiantly, proudly. Her scowl darkened.

At the back of the room, Shikamaru shrugged lazily.

"The questioning of Uchiha Sasuke, by Morino Ibiki, will commence, as of today. This Council meeting has ended. We bid you all farewell."

.

.

Hinata was practically skipping through Konoha. After the horrendous rain the previous day, the sun had decided to come out and say hello—the weather was relatively warm, and there wasn't even a breeze. In fact, it was pretty much perfect.

She'd planned on going to see Kiba—to perhaps apologise for trekking mud and rainwater all through his house, in her giddy of excitement—but she was distracted by a new trinket shop, which had just opened next to the Yamanaka flower shop. The shop looked pretty intriguing, altogether, with its beaded curtain over the doorway and its pretty little necklaces; sweeping the beads to one side, she stepped through the doorway and into the shop.

An elderly woman bowed her head in acknowledgement. "Good morning, young lady. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Hinata smiled gently, "Thank you, but I'm just browsing, at the moment."

The old woman nodded again, before ducking behind the counter and busying herself with whatever it was she'd been doing before. Hinata, meanwhile, walked slowly down the first isle, gingerly picking up small glass ornaments—one of a swan, the other of a rose—before setting them back on the table. Maybe when she had some more money, she'd return; until then, she'd have to settle for just looking.

She wandered down the second isle, peering at the shelves, and almost bumped into a familiar figure. Hastily apologising, she straightened, and found herself peering into the tear-filled green eyes of Haruno Sakura.

She was holding a glass tomato.

For a few seconds, Hinata couldn't quite see the significance, and so she stood there, mouth agape, simply looking gormless—and then she realised that the only thing that could make Sakura cry in such a way was Uchiha Sasuke. And so, without really realising what she was doing, she gently took the tomato away, placing it back on the shelf, before linking her arm around the taller girl's waist and leading her slowly out of the shop.

Sakura didn't really resist, mumbling a few apologies in the midst of her crying, attempting to explain. Hinata shushed her, murmuring comforting words that she'd never really heard herself say before—"there, there" and "don't worry, it'll all be fine"—little white lies, which comforted the other girl but broke Hinata's heart as she spoke them.

She steered the other girl past the flower shop, because, despite the fact that Ino and Sakura were very much the best of all friends, Hinata doubted that the blonde's obnoxiously loud nature was what Sakura wanted right at that moment. She walked briskly, practically dragging Sakura along behind her, wanting nothing more than to be at home, where they could sit down in privacy and talk—however, she was all too aware of the other villagers' prying eyes, and her house was further away than she'd thought, so she concentrated on walking in the vague direction of Sakura's house.

It wasn't that far away, now that she thought about it; it was likely that Sakura had been on her way to talk to Ino, to spill out all of her pent up feelings, and she'd been distracted by the new trinket shop, just like Hinata. Except, unlike Hinata, Sakura had spotted something which reminded her of the things she was trying to escape—and, unlike Hinata, it had broken her.

She slowed down, nudging her friend and pushing her towards the door to the small house she lived in, with her mother and father. Sakura fumbled briefly with the door handle, before tugging the door open and launching herself up the stairs. Hinata, meanwhile, tugged off her shoes, leaving them beside the door, and then announced her presence to Sakura's parents, before following their daughter to her room.

The door was wide open—Hinata gingerly glanced around it, peering into the messy bedroom of a typical teenage girl; clothes strewn across the floor, odd socks and a messy desk. Sakura's room was pink, as well; not bright pink, but baby pink—judging by the childish stickers and the colourful decorations, her parents had decorated the room for her, when she was small, and she hadn't changed it since then.

Sakura was lying across the bed, clutching a pillow to her face in an attempt to muffle her wails. Hinata shut the door quietly, crossed the room and then knelt down, stroking the other's hair soothingly, waiting for her to calm down.

There was a moment where Hinata was uncertain she'd ever be able to calm the other girl down—Sakura seemed to have sunk into a deep pit of misery, from which she would never emerge. Then, finally, after a lot of shushing and tongue clucking, Sakura finally fell silent, sitting up and bowing her head, so that her hair fell in front of her face.

"…he hates me."

Hinata blinked, bewildered. For a second, she didn't know what Sakura was talking about—for a second, she'd managed to convince herself that she was just a friend, just visiting a friend, not attempting to cheer up an obviously distraught girl. Then she remembered, and she shook her head. "Of course he d—doesn't."

Sakura fixed her with a frosty glare. "Why wouldn't he hate me, Hinata? I've abandoned him. I should have fought this time. But I just…"

She trailed off, gazing down at her hands in apparent wonder—she turned them over, staring first at the contours of her palms, and then at her fingernails and knuckles. After a few more seconds, her fists curled into balls and she slumped, defeated.

"…I just gave up."

Hinata frowned, unsure of what to say—she bit her lip, her eyes flickering away, attempting to think of anything to console the other girl. Really, what could she say? Naruto had said it before—she couldn't even begin to comprehend what it was like to lose such a friend; someone so close to you that it was as though they were your sibling; someone you loved so much that, were they to leave, it would destroy you. She'd never felt the same way as Sakura, or Naruto—and she doubted she ever would.

But still, she couldn't remain silent.

Not when she was visiting Sasuke, every single day, for an hour—not when she could end their worries with one little sentence—not when she could tell them that Sasuke forgave them, that he knew they couldn't help it. She couldn't tell them, though, because otherwise she wouldn't be able to visit Sasuke, and he would end up truly lonely before he died. Hinata slumped in defeat, just as Sakura had done mere minutes beforehand, and tried to think of something else she could say, to make everything better.

"…So f—fight now."

Sakura blinked, startled. Obviously she hadn't been expecting Hinata to say anything in response to her statement—but, when she looked up, the younger girl was staring at her, her face flush with embarrassment, but her eyes filled with determination.

"You can't just give u—up, Sakura, even if it seems like the easiest option. You owe Sasuke m—more than that," the Hyuuga continued, her nails biting into her palms as she clenched her fists tightly. "Switch it all around—what if you w—were where Sasuke is right now, and I were stood here talking to h—him? What would h—he do?"

"…he'd fight."

"Exactly!"

Sakura's face lit up, with pure joy—and, for a few seconds, Sakura believed it was really that easy. She believed, for mere moments, that she might be able to see Sasuke with some well chosen words and a bit of fighting spirit.

Then her face fell. "I could never do something like that. I'm not Naruto. I can't get people to listen to what I say with a few pretty words and a smile. I'm… I'm not like that."

Hinata crossed her arms, furrowing her brow slightly. "So that's it? You w—want to just give up, right now? You haven't even tried y—yet, but you still want to run away?"

Sakura didn't reply. She was distantly aware of Hinata standing up and brushing herself down—instead of saying anything, she simply turned over, lying down and facing the window, watching the clouds roll by outside. She heard Hinata walk towards the door—heard the door open slowly, and then waited as the other girl paused, obviously torn about something.

She spoke, her voice ringing out loud and clear. Then the door shut, and Sakura heard footsteps as the other girl retreated down the stairs—for a while, she just lay there, numb, silently weeping, unable to think of anything but the last words of the kind and sweet Hyuuga had spoken.

"I h—hate people who don't try."

.

.

"You're early, Hinata," Ibiki stated blankly, raising his eyebrow as he gazed at the young girl in front of him; she shrugged one shoulder, not meeting his steady gaze and instead choosing to stare in the opposite direction, towards the prison. "What's the occasion?"

"…There's no occasion. I just r—ran out of things to do."

He chuckled dryly, before beckoning for Hinata to follow him. "Hurry up, then. The Uchiha's waiting."

.

.

Hinata pushed open the door, bowing her head in thanks to Ibiki, who merely shrugged and wandered away in the opposite direction—he still didn't agree with her visiting Sasuke, but there wasn't much he could do about it. If he when straight to Hiashi, Hinata would no doubt get into trouble—and the Hokage would probably kick his ass for him, as well.

He heaved a sigh, hooked his thumbs through the waistband of his trousers, and wandered away, whistling softly. Hinata watched him go, before stepping through the open door and nodding a greeting to the two ANBU members. She'd grown used to them there, even if they still terrified a small part of her; they acknowledged her nod with a stiff salute, before returning to their positions, gazing at their prisoner.

She stepped forwards, sitting down quickly—for a few seconds, she found herself wanting something to preoccupy herself with; some flowers, like before. She'd have to bring some in, next time. Something pretty, to brighten up the room.

She folded her hands neatly in her lap and smiled. "Hello, Sasuke."

There was a moment of silence—Hinata registered, calmly, the fact that the S-rank criminal seemed more sluggish than usual. They'd probably given him an extra dose of drugs, or something. She frowned.

"Hinata."

"Besides the obvious, h—how are you?"

He paused, tilting his head as best he could in his restraints, and raised an eyebrow. "…Since you put it like that, I suppose I'm fine. And you?"

Distantly, he saw the ANBU leave the room, nodding at one another as they did so. His gaze flickered back to Hinata, as she let herself relax, the tension leaving her shoulders in a rush. She stretched as best she could sitting down, before offering him a tired smile. "I'm okay. I s—spoke to Sakura today."

"Did you?" Sasuke murmured, looking back at the doorway. "…How is she?"

"She's well, I s—suppose. She blames herself for not being able to v—visit you," the Hyuuga mumbled, obviously aware that talking of either teammate was a touchy subject for Sasuke. "You don't blame her t—though, do you?"

Sasuke shook his head.

"It doesn't concern me, what she does."

Hinata bit her lip. "You d—don't mean that."

"I do. I'm not out there anymore, Hinata; I left that at the age of thirteen, and I never once looked back. How could I? This isn't a fairytale—I wouldn't have been accepted back with open arms," Sasuke snapped, before laughing bitterly. "Can't you see from my bindings, Hinata? Konoha could never have accepted me, no matter when I came back—it's the principle of the matter, you see."

"Konoha might not have, but your f—friends would have."

He fell silent, unable to think of an answer; because, in a way, Hinata was correct. Naruto wouldn't have said anything—sure, he would have kicked Sasuke's ass a couple of times, and complained loudly, but the subject would eventually have become taboo, something to never speak of again. Sakura wouldn't have brought it up, either; she'd have been too pleased to have him return—she'd have been happy just to know he was safe.

And Kakashi… well, there might have been a few serious chats about abandoning villages and betraying friendships and seeking vengeance, but nothing big.

Even so…

Sasuke shrugged. "I made my decision."

He waited for Hinata to digest the sharp, brisk answer—waited as realisation slowly dawned on her, and she narrowed her eyes, raised an eyebrow, obviously ready to fire the next question at it.

"Don't you r—regret it?"

He blinked.

"Why would I?"

"B—because you lost so much! You were powerful—you had loving, d—doting friends who wanted to do whatever they could to help you, but you left them. You l—lost them. That doesn't m—matter at all to you?" Hinata asked, leaning forwards, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.

"I didn't lose them," Sasuke stated blankly, shrugging as best he could in his position. "I didn't lose anything. I gained power."

"You lost a v—village."

For a few seconds, he toyed with releasing the information he knew—he toyed with the idea of telling Hinata all about the Uchiha massacre, and the real reasons behind it, just to see the look of despair on her face as she realised he was telling the truth. What reason would he have to make up something so terrible? She'd have no choice but to accept the facts, and he'd watch on with a cruel sense of satisfaction as every single thing she'd ever come to think of as a truth, became a lie.

Despite the initial satisfaction he'd no doubt feel, he couldn't bring himself to do it. If he said something as serious—as huge—as that, she'd hate him. She would never accept it, even if she believed it; no, she'd simply hate him, and consider him to be a liar and a traitor.

After all, Hyuuga Hinata was merely human.

So Sasuke simply smirked, ignoring the part of him which longed to tell her, and chose to let her live a life of ignorance. "It was a price I was willing to pay."

"You… y—you didn't care?"

Of course he'd cared. He'd wondered, constantly, on-off, if he'd made the right decision—even when training, he'd wanted someone to tell him whether he was right. No matter how many times Orochimaru insisted he was correct—no matter how many times Kabuto assured him he was blessed—no matter how many times he told himself it was the only way, he still wondered. He still cared.

But he didn't say any of that.

Instead, he merely shrugged.

"I did what I had to do. Your Hokage should be honouring me. I killed Uchiha Itachi, a deadly murderer—the guy who massacred an entire clan."

Hinata didn't respond. She simply gazed at Sasuke, peering at him; it was as though she were looking straight through him, picking apart all of the secrets hidden within the depths of his dark soul. It was as though she were figuring him out—disassembling him with her pretty white eyes. He felt himself shiver.

Then she smiled.

"You're l—lying, Sasuke—to me, and to yourself."

He froze, unable to think of anything to say. How could she disarm him with a casual gaze and a few words? How could she wound him so easily? He simply stared at her.

Her smile widened.

"But don't worry, Sasuke."

He blinked.

"…I forgive you."