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: "i love shino. that is all."
notes2: "oh, and the length of my chapters have gotten shorter and shorter & i apologise. i will most certainly work on it."
chapter: o8/5o

Naturally, Hanabi wasn't at all patient. In fact, it was one of the many traits which she took after her father, as opposed to her kindly, caring mother—it was also one of the many traits she cursed beneath her breath.

It wasn't that she was rudely impatient; she did not cough and hint and interrupt, when people spoke, and she did not hurry those slower than her. Rather, she simply did not enjoy repeating herself. Standing at the bottom of her older sister's bed, tapping one foot, with her arms crossed, she'd told the other girl to wake up eight times.

"Wake up, sister."

She scowled. That upped the count to nine.

Hyuuga Hinata mumbled something incomprehensible, choosing to ignore her younger sister, who was becoming increasingly more and more frustrated; she rolled onto her side, facing the wall, clutching her blankets tightly around her body. She wasn't usually lazy—rather, she liked to think she just wasn't a morning person, despite the fact that getting up earlier was part of her job.

Hanabi rolled her eyes and, with a soft grunt, tugged at the blankets—they slipped easily from Hinata's grasp and she was left lying in the middle of her bed, suddenly cold. She curled instinctively, grumbling blearily beneath her breath, as her sister slipped off the bed, walking over to the window. She gazed outside for a second, her gaze immediately wandering to the two familiar older figures stood opposite the window.

Outside, Kiba stretched one arm, waving lazily.

Hanabi rolled her eyes again—something she'd been doing a lot of lately—and turned back to Hinata, who was beginning to look increasingly like a lost cause. Neji had warned her it would take a while for the older girl to fully wake up, but this was just ridiculous, and Hanabi wasn't the most patient of people.

Sighing, she gathered her chakra in the tips of her fingers, hoping to alert her sister with the swirling sense of static chakra—even though she could feel the energy running through her body; feel it buzzing in the air; Hinata didn't stir at all. For a few seconds, Hanabi let herself be mildly impressed; when Hinata slept, she sure was dead to the world.

Then, without a moment's hesitation, she jabbed her chakra-laced hand into the heel of the older girl's foot. She felt the chakra surge through her body and into Hinata's—nothing damaging, just in case, but her sister would probably be walking with a limp, at least for a little while. She heard Hinata squeak, voicing her discomfort in what had to be the highest pitch possible, and suddenly her sister was scrambling upright, clutching the blankets to her chest.

"H—H—Hanabi!"

Her younger sister deadpanned, "You wouldn't wake up."

There was a moment of silence, as both girls considered each other; Hinata, no doubt wondering why Neji hadn't woke her up that morning, because he was far kinder and much more considerate, and Hanabi wondering whether she was actually going to make an attempt at moving and waking up.

"…Kiba's outside."

That did it.

Hinata leapt out of her bed, rushing past Hanabi in a flurry of limbs—her younger sister snorted softly, retreating safely to lean against the wall, next to the doorway. She watched as her sister snatched almost every single item of clothing out of her wardrobe, flinging on underwear and trousers with a speed that she'd never seen before. She was used to Hinata being slower, bashful, with absolutely no confidence in her movements; rather, it was when her sister became sure of herself, became brave, that Hanabi felt dismay.

She knew it was wrong; she knew she should feel happy for her sister, at those moments. When she heard of Hinata's brave stand against Pein, despite the fact that it had been utterly futile, she had feigned indifference. In fact, she'd even gone as far as to call her sister stupid, saying that it was an unwise and reckless deed she had performed. Inside, she had been consumed with jealousy.

For her sister to find such courage—to impress so many strong and powerful shinobi—in mere moments, it disheartened Hanabi. She had worked long and hard to get to where she was, with the overwhelming pressure of Neji pushing down on her shoulders; it had been a heavy burden, knowing that not only did she have to surpass her sister, but also her mighty cousin, that, for a long time, she had been sure she could not do it.

Then, she had trained.

She had trained against almost everyone she knew—children younger than her, shinobi her own age, elderly retired kunoichi with secrets to share, and even her own father. She had trained and trained, constantly being knocked down, constantly pulling herself back up again; silently struggling, she had become stronger and stronger.

The Clan Elders had informed her father that, in time, she would be stronger than Neji. He had scoffed, because, in his eyes, no one could be stronger than that golden child—perhaps it was the fact that Neji so reminded him of his brother, but he would hear no ill of the shinobi. It didn't hurt Hanabi as much as she'd thought it would; if she were Hinata, she no doubt would have been crushed. But she was a Hyuuga, with a padlock on her heart of stone.

Still, every now and then, a sudden surge of jealousy would overcome her—usually, it happened whenever Hinata surpassed everyone else's expectations.

Her sister could do it, as well. One second, she appeared to be a weak, mild kunoichi, with nothing but thoughts of peace and trust on her mind—the next second, she was a deadly assassin, impressing all who saw her. And she could do it all in a matter of seconds. It took Hanabi years to gain that much respect. It took her years to surge ahead.

And, yet, her sister could do it in mere seconds, if she wanted to.

Even so, she loved her sister, as dysfunctional as their family could seem. She adored her—she respected her—and she knew that she was everything Hanabi would never be. Could never be. She'd spent too long training, too long hiding, that all of her emotions had dried away, just like her father.

Oh, the passion had gone.

She watched, silently, as her sister struggled with the knots in her hair. For a few seconds, Hanabi wondered why she even bothered—Hinata didn't get knots in her hair, just tangles, and they fell out after a few brush strokes. It was yet another thing Hanabi couldn't help but feel jealous of, although, this also applied to Neji, as well; both of them had such beautiful hair. Long and silky, with not a single kink, and no frizz; hair to be envied, for sure.

She chuckled softly, underneath her breath. Really now? Was she so jealous as to mope over the state of her hair, compared to theirs? She clicked her tongue gently, immediately drawing Hinata's attention, and smiled; because, after all, she was the younger sister, and it was her job to make her older sister's life hell.

"…Shino's waiting as well," Hanabi murmured. "Whatever they need you for, it must be extremely important—they've been waiting for around an hour now."

"An h—hour?" Hinata squeaked, flinging her brush onto her bed and scooping her jacket up—she hastily did it up, before rushing past Hanabi and out of the doorway, her final call floating back to her younger sister. "Why didn't you t—tell me?"

She smiled, listening to her sister's hurried footsteps as she practically flew down the stairs. Midway down, there was a high-pitched apology; almost a screech; and she heard Neji's low voice respond with slight confusion, and just a hint of curiosity. Her sister hissed a response, no doubt practically spitting her explanation at the poor boy, but he merely chuckled and continued on his way.

Not for the first time, Hanabi wished she was as close to Neji as her sister was.

She listened as Neji continued up the stairs—listened as he walked past the open bedroom door without a second glance—and the smallest ghost of a smile flickered across her face. A bitter smile, but a smile nonetheless.

A door slammed. She walked slowly, lazily, over to Hinata's bedroom window and pushed it open, leaning on the windowpane and gazing at her sister. Almost immediately, her older sister had begun to gush apology after apology to a laughing, sheepish Kiba and a stoic Shino. Both boys appeared to have nothing to say, informing her that everything was fine, and that they knew she wasn't a morning person; well, Kiba spoke, and Shino simply nodded.

Hanabi leaned her head in her hands, watching Hinata's back as she disappeared down the road, in between her two taller friends. She looked odd next to them; Kiba, with the muscles rippling his back and shoulders, barely hidden beneath his shirt; and Shino, his broad shoulders hidden beneath that huge coat.

And there, between them, Hinata, with her frail body and her hunched shoulders, awkward and fragile.

Once again, Hanabi felt a surge of jealousy, so overpowering that, for a second, she found herself unable to swallow, for fear of tears. Her teammates never called for her, like that; they never stood so close to her; they looked at her with jealousy and anger boiling in their eyes. To them, she was a snob, perhaps due to the fact that she never really spoke to them. To them, she was frosty and silent.

To them, she kept her emotions bottled up as tight as she could.

And she wished, when she was with them, she could be just like Hinata.

.

.

Hinata clasped her hands in front of her, attempting to think of a solution to her problem, but finding none. Growing increasingly more and more miserable, her gaze flickered to the left, where she found Shino gazing at her intently. He said nothing, despite the fact that he was staring so sharply at her, and she found herself glad of that fact; Kiba was far too dense to really notice anything, when he was so excited and pumped up about the oncoming mission, and Shino was far too kind to ask any questions.

She frowned, as her mind wandered back to her current predicament. What was she going to do about Sasuke?

Of course, she had promised to see him, every single day, but that appeared impossible, what with her current situation. She supposed she'd grown accustomed to the lack of missions, on her part; for around seven days, she'd simply done nothing but lounge around, talking to whoever she wanted to whenever she felt like it.

She should have known something so pleasant couldn't last—besides, she was a ninja. It was her job. She couldn't just up and leave whenever she felt like it. She should be thankful that Tsunade had even given her that much free time.

Still, that didn't solve the problem. There was absolutely no way she could visit Sasuke; Kiba had informed her that the mission would probably last for a few days, despite the fact that it was nothing big. It was a B-ranked mission, although that might be stretching it a bit far; as a group, they were to guard a nobleman, travelling from his wife on a business trip. Of course, the mission was slightly deeper than that; not only were they to guard the noble, they were to also make him sign a treaty Konoha had prepared, using any means possible—once the treaty was signed, not only would Konoha get a share of the nobleman's mining business, but they would also get a new 'ally'.

And Hinata would be able to return home quicker.

"We're not leaving yet, Hinata," Shino's soft voice interrupted her thoughts and she glanced up sharply, obviously startled. She found him staring at her, his hands tucked into his pockets, his face unreadable. "You still have some time to attend to personal business."

Up ahead, Kiba scowled, obviously frustrated. What could he say? He wanted to leave. In fact, it was the only thing he wanted to do—when he received a mission, he always wanted to start as quickly as possible, no setbacks whatsoever involved.

Currently, Hinata was the setback.

Still, he couldn't exactly complain and kick up a fuss, because then Shino would haughtily deem him childish, and Hinata would apologise profoundly, and he'd become the bad guy. So he crossed his arms and huffed underneath his breath.

"Are… are you sure that's okay?" Hinata mumbled, pursing her lips together as she thought—she could, of course, meet with Sasuke and explain her dilemma. Somehow, she didn't quite want to do that—already, she felt like she was disappointing him. She felt like she was meeting his worst expectations.

Shino nodded. "We cannot force you to begin a mission, when you are obviously inadequately prepared. Gather your equipment, attend to your duties, and meet us by the gates in precisely an hour, if that is a sufficient amount of time, of course."

"N—no, that's more than enough!" She beamed at her teammate, ducking her head in thanks. "I couldn't ask for any m—more from you."

"Good," Kiba snapped from up ahead, standing astride Akamaru, and still pretty miffed that he'd been forced to wait an extra hour to begin. Almost immediately, Hinata's shoulders sank and she opened her mouth to apologise.

Shino arched an eyebrow at Kiba.

The two boys glared—or, in Shino's part, simply stared—at each other, for a good few minutes, with Hinata unable to think of anything to say. She wanted so desperately to stay, and, yet, she didn't want to annoy Kiba. She didn't want to be a bother, at all. She didn't want to be troublesome, as Shikamaru would no doubt have put it. She did, however, need to leave. She needed to sort things out with Sasuke, and she needed to do it quickly, so that she could make the most of her time.

Shino cleared his throat, and it seemed the battle of wills was won. Further down the path, Kiba hunched his shoulders sheepishly, ducking his head meekly in apology, and looking for all it was worth like a kicked puppy. He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, before smiling at Hinata. "Sorry, Hinata—what was I thinking, right? Listen, just be as quick as possible, so we can get going, and then we can pretend I wasn't just sulking, okay?"

Hinata smiled.

"S—sounds like a plan."

With that, she turned and headed off in the opposite direction, passing a few shops before ducking around a corner; all the while, entirely aware of the two pairs of searching, studying eyes on her back.

When she'd finally disappeared out of sight, Kiba heaved a huge, obviously fake, sigh, glancing quickly at Shino out of the corner of his eye. The other boy remained oblivious to his stares—or, rather, pretended to be oblivious. And then, finally, he spoke.

"…what?"

Kiba grinned dopily, shrugging casually. "Oh, nothing. I was just wondering what's on her mind. She's seemed really preoccupied lately, right?"

Shino didn't miss a blink.

"It's none of my concern."

Kiba snorted, flapping a hand idly, whilst at the same time beckoning for Akamaru, or Shino, to follow. "Sure it is. I mean, we're teammates, right? And we're practically related, we're that close. Even though Neji's all smarmy with Hinata now, don't forget that he used to hate her guts—and who was her friend then? I think you'll find that the correct answer is us, idiot."

"…she'll tell us when she wants to."

"Or when I ask her."

Shino frowned, showing for perhaps the first time, in the entire conversation, a bit of emotion. "Kiba, do not ask her. Do not even attempt to pressure her into doing something she doesn't want to do."

"You never know, Shino…"

As Kiba wandered down the road, with perhaps his most trusted friend on his left, and Akamaru brushing against his side, he could not help but wonder if what Hinata needed right now was for someone else to take charge. Perhaps she didn't want to make the first move.

He smiled.

"…it could be for the best."

.

.

The door opened.

Sasuke glanced up, briefly, as Hyuuga Hinata shuffled in, her fingers pressed together, looking for all the world as though something extremely terrible had happened. For a few seconds, his breath caught in his throat, and a sense of foreboding washed over him; for her to make a face like that, surely something awful had happened to Naruto.

That could only be it.

And then he wondered, quickly, why it bothered him so much. After all, he'd abandoned them—they were supposed to mean nothing to him, and, yet, they always meant so much. Still, he rearranged his features into a composed smirk.

"…you're early, Hinata," he murmured, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at her face, as she sat down in front of him; her expression had shifted into something resembling happiness, but he could still see the anxiety in her eyes. "What's the occasion?"

"I—I'm leaving for a little while."

He raised an eyebrow. What exactly did that have to do with him? And then the full impact of her words hit him, and he felt all of the colour wash out of him.

"…how long for?"

She shifted uncomfortably, looking entirely miserable. "I'll only be gone for a f—few days; maybe four or five; and I'm s—sorry. I'm so, so sorry." She gazed up at him, and he could see the depth of her sorrow glistening in her eyes.

And it struck him.

He couldn't understand—not for the life of him—why a girl, who was the equivalent of a stranger to him, cared so deeply. Why was it that she felt such sadness when he'd only known her for a few days? He'd never spoken to her before in his life, not before he'd been imprisoned, and he knew exactly why; she was the type of weak, overly kind and oh so caring person that he didn't usually like. He considered them to be pathetic.

But now he didn't mind as much; seeing Hinata sat opposite him, with tears in her eyes, wanting nothing more than to please him, it changed his opinion. Not drastically. Only slightly. She was still weak, after all. Still overly kind. Still oh so caring.

Still pathetic.

But… it was okay.

That was fine with him.

"I understand."

Hinata blinked, obviously shocked by his response, and then tilted her head. "B—but… I won't be able to s—see you."

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, barely concealing his amusement. What, did she want him to berate her, or something? Did she want him to break down—to shout and yell and hurt her? But, as he looked at her closely—at her calm, almost relieved, expression, contrasting greatly with her ramrod straight back, and tense shoulders—he wondered if she were used to disappointing people. He wondered if she was usually rewarded with an angry outburst.

"That's fine," he replied, and his telltale smirk slid across his face. "You are a kunoichi, after all. I would be concerned if you weren't leaving for missions."

She peered at him, obviously searching for signs of anger or upset on his face, and he almost felt the need to laugh. She cared too much. She was just one of those people, he supposed. She'd promised, and so she had to keep her promise, no matter what it meant to her—no matter if the promise broke her.

She reminded him of Naruto.

For a few seconds, a face—with bright blue eyes, sun-kissed, whiskered cheeks and golden hair—swam in his mind. The face—the boy—his friend—offered him his trademark cheery grin, complete with a thumbs up, as he promised.

That face was replaced with the face of a girl—midnight blue hair, pale features and white eyes—unsmiling and somewhat grim, as she promised.

His smirk slid off his face.

"Are… a—are you sure?" Hinata mumbled, pressing her fingers together as she gazed at Sasuke, obviously searching for something she could do to make up for 'breaking her promise'. That was no doubt how she saw it.

He tilted his head.

"…why does it bother you so much?"

She blinked, her eyebrows shooting upwards as the question was asked—almost immediately, she seemed to fold in on herself, hugging her arms around her chest and bowing her head as though he'd kicked her.

"Why does it bother you so much?" He repeated, finding himself unable to look at her—despite the fact that he knew his question was a reasonable one, it felt cruel as he spoke it. Unjust. Almost accusing. "I understand. Promises can't always be kept."

It was only as he said the last sentence, that he realised he actually felt disappointed. The fact that he'd always thought of her promise—her naïve, silly little promise—as something that could be kept; that must be kept; and when he realised she couldn't keep it, it had hurt him. Somewhere, somehow, deep inside of him, he'd been hurt. Perhaps almost subconsciously. The fact that he thought she was breaking such a ridiculous promise, said it all.

He found himself smiling again.

His brother would have said he was going soft—that he was foolish, no doubt.

The thought made him laugh. Softly, at first—a quiet chuckle—which turned into a full scale, outright belly-laugh. Hinata looked upset—hurt and insulted—but he found himself ignoring her. To think of Itachi at such a time…

Well, it seemed ironically appropriate.

Hinata waited for the manic, almost panicked, laughter to die down, before responding to Sasuke's question.

"It bothers me, b—because I care."

With that, she stood up, dusting herself down and straightening her jacket. She took a quick, almost wistful, glance at Sasuke; taking in his dirty, matted hair, and his too-pale skin; and felt herself near to tears. Perhaps it was the wild, forced laughter that had made her feel that way, or perhaps it was his waxy, ill appearance, but she found herself so close to tears that it hurt.

She couldn't meet his eyes, as she turned away—she couldn't bear to look at him, as she reached for the door handle. She didn't want to speak of him. She didn't want to think of him.

She'd broken her promise.

As she left the room, she waved her hand at the rabbit-masked ANBU guard. "Tell him… t—tell him I'll write," she practically whispered, and she waited for the ANBU member to nod in response, before walking briskly down the corridor and away from the cell.

His haunted laughter echoed after her.

And, as she left the prison, tears rolled silently down her cheeks.

.

.

Hinata was upset.

It was clear for everyone to see, Shino thought, after her sullen, albeit still polite, refusal of Kiba's offer to carry her bags for her. Although, had Shino been in her position, he too would have refused, no matter his emotions, but that was beside the point—she'd barely spoken, for what had to be over a few hours, and the entire team had ended up walking in complete silence.

It didn't bother Kiba, luckily; sitting astride Akamaru, he was too far ahead to pay any concern to the troubled kunoichi. Sometimes, Shino truly wished he was as naïve as Kiba seemed.

He found his thoughts straying back to Kiba's words, earlier that day; perhaps asking her would be better in that circumstance. Asking her what was wrong, and then refusing to take no as an answer. Forcing her to spill all.

But, as fascinating and compelling the idea seemed, Shino would never do it.

And so he walked in silence, beside his best friend, unable to speak to her—not knowing the right things to say, or the words she needed. Not for the first time in his life, Shino felt useless beside her. Kiba would know. He'd laugh and joke, and every tension in Hinata would disappear, as quickly as that.

But Shino didn't know.

He would never know.

So he remained silent, as he walked beside the girl he used to love, and wondered why his life wanted nothing more than to spiral down into a pit of clichés.

It was just his luck.