project: Fifty Days
disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
dedication: thank you to pretty much everyone! cat, anguamoon, sarcastic nightmare, fallenangelitachi & izusu-chan, as well as the regulars, hinata6, 07 & one heartbeat!
chapter: 16/5o
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.
notes1:
sorry for the long wait! there's been a series of unfortunate events, in which i broke a memory stick, lost a memory stick, lost my muse & then found that i had a whole bunch of tests i should be "revising" (read: cramming like crazy) for. but, i'm here now, not only with a chapter of fifty days, but an all new sasuhina fic, titled tag! check it out!
also, i have fanart. yeah, i know. how awesome is that? just google daliagray & last of days, and you'll find it.
i hope you enjoy it.
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Sometimes, Shino didn't really understand Hinata.
She could be as brave as she wanted, though she always hindered by her crippling shyness; and she had the wonderful ability to blush various different shades of red, which was always an interesting thing to see. She was quiet, but she was smart, he knew that much; when they were smaller, he would constantly see her — before and after training — with a book tucked beneath her arm. He thought she was quite pretty, although she would have blushed and shook her head over and over again, if she'd ever heard him say such a thing; she was plain, in her opinion, not pretty.
But he thought she was.
It wasn't just her face — although she did have a very pretty face — but more all of her, the inside and out; it was the way she held herself; she looked so vulnerable, but different. It was the way she spoke, as well, with her voice ringing out loud and clear, sometimes, before dropping down to an impossible level of quietness; sometimes, even he had to strain his ears, trying to hear some of the things she said. But it was the way she acted that did it most for him. While some might have called kunoichi like Ino beautiful, he would have had to disagree; Ino was so loud, so brash, that he would have felt the need to place his hands over his ears, were he anyone else. No, Hinata was quieter — she was polite and pleasant, a gentle soul in all aspects of the phrase, and that made her pretty.
Not that he'd ever tell her such a thing, as more than a friend; he truly loved Hinata, that much he could swear upon with his life, but he knew he was only a friend to her, and would no doubt only ever be considered a friend in her eyes. He was quiet, kind Shino, who was good at listening; that's why, when she wanted to talk, she came to him. She skirted around Kiba, almost entirely — he could listen for a select period of time, and then he wanted to bounce around, wanted to do anything, or at least something, because he'd been sat still for so long. He knew that, occasionally, she would talk to her cousin, Neji, but not always — sometimes, there were things she just couldn't mention around him. She couldn't talk to Naruto, of course; while they'd gotten closer, as far as Shino knew, she still blushed at the sound of his voice.
So, usually, it was Shino she spoke to.
But, recently, he'd begun to feel as though he was a little out of the loop. He knew full well Hinata kept secrets — he'd known that back in the Academy, where she'd helped nurse a sick bird back to life, hiding it in the Academy gardens and sneaking out every now and again to feed it; Shino had, eventually, spotted what she was doing, and had begun helping her out, but that was beside the point. The point was, he knew Hinata had secrets. She'd had them for as long as he could remember; sometimes, she told him them, and sometimes she didn't. That was fine with him — well, it had been fine with him.
Now…
Now, he wasn't so sure.
She'd come to visit him, and was sat upon his bed, hands clasped in her lap, but they hadn't really said anything to each other — nothing but small-talk, really. The last time she'd spoken to him had been just yesterday, but that had been for a reason; she'd obviously known nothing about Kiba, and her cousin, as he later found out, being on a mission — and that was odd. For as long as he could remember, on any separate missions, Hinata would always, without fail, be waiting by Konoha Gates, to see them off. She would always supply them with a little bit of home-made ointment, for wounds and such, despite the fact that it wasn't all that good; and she would always wave and smile, as she wished them good luck, a safe journey, and goodbye.
But she'd missed that.
She'd never had the chance to say goodbye.
She'd said that herself.
Now he wondered what was so important, that she'd missed something she always did, without fail — that she'd forgotten to say goodbye to Kiba, to her own cousin. He didn't quite understand it, actually. That was out of character. It wasn't the Hinata he knew, and he wondered when she'd stopped being the Hinata he knew; before, she would have turned up at his door, just babble about anything, and he would have happily listened — now they were both sat in silence, and the atmosphere was tense, heavy.
"Hinata," he said, finally, and she looked up. "Can I ask a question? You don't have to answer it, of course, if you don't want to."
She bit her lip, looking ever so slightly hesitant, before nodding for him to continue.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Her eyes widened a fraction, and her fists clenched, but she didn't reply, not instantly — instead, she simply looked at him, her thoughts elsewhere. He wondered, absently, what — no, who, because he was quite sure, now, that it was a who — she was thinking of, and why they were so important; and then he saw that she'd uncurled her fists, and that her hands were hanging loosely by her sides. She was gazing directly at him, head tilted slightly, as if considering something he'd said; not that, really, he'd said anything all that strange.
He was just a friend.
And he was just trying to help out.
After all — a secret shared is a secret halved, or something like that. He'd heard one of the children at the Academy say it, once upon a time, and had asked his father what it meant; his father had stared at him for a second, before replying, with no smile, "You'll understand eventually." With that, Shino had been sent to his room, for bed, and had lain awake for an hour trying to figure out what it meant.
He understood now, of course. And he wanted to help.
She opened her mouth.
"…you can't tell a—anyone," she said, finally, still hesitant. "Not even Kiba. Not my family, not Kiba — and especially not N—Naruto."
That was pretty much all it took.
That one little sentence, and Shino had figured it all out already. Behind his sunglasses, he figured the sudden widening, and then narrowing, of his eyes was difficult to see, but Hinata must have judged his reaction anyway, because she nodded once, with a little sheepish smile. Absently, he realised she must have become quite close to that someone, if it had caused her to miss her own cousin's departure. He wondered if that was all a good thing.
After all, if you fly too close to the sun, you're sure to get burnt.
"I've been visiting Uchiha Sasuke."
Still, it took him a little while to truly comprehend what she'd said. It wasn't that it was something he found extremely surprising; although, undoubtedly, it was surprising — after all, as far as he knew, Hinata had never once spoken to Sasuke, and he hardly seemed like the type of person she'd associate herself with, whether he'd become a traitor or not. He was cold and stoic, silent at the best of times, dangerous at worst; and she was sweet. A bit like sugar. They didn't suit each other, he thought; or, well, they were unexpected at most — he would never have expected them to ever speak to each other; not even once.
They just didn't suit each other.
So he simply nodded, because that was all he could do, and listened as she explained the past fifteen days to him. He sat in silence, eyes dark behind his sunglasses, listening quietly — because he was good at listening, and that was what Hinata needed him for.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder, as she neared the end of her speech—
"Are you doing the right thing?"
.
.
Sasuke closed his eyes.
Darkness.
It was something he was growing more and more accustomed to, as time passed; it was his constant companion, if he was feeling poetic, and it watched. It waited and lingered, threading through the room, silent as the two ANBU stood watch. It seemed as though the light hid away faster than usual; it felt as though night had come early, and, even with his eyes closed, he could feel the darkness. It was always dark.
Except, he thought absently, when she was around.
Then—
Then everything lit up.
He opened his eyes.
All he had to do was wait.
.
.
It was silent.
The forest around them was completely and utterly silent — and they were completely and totally still, gazing about them. Kakashi had taken the lead, in typical Kakashi style; even with his book held open in front of him, his other hand tucked into his pocket, it was obvious he was entirely alert — his eyes were barely skimming the page, taking every few seconds to glance upwards, checking out his surroundings. He shifted backwards, then, foot pushing across the dirt, scraping tiny bits of stone across the dirt path, and he nodded once, briskly.
Behind him, the other three simultaneously rolled their eyes — something, Kakashi realised, a lot of people ended up doing around him. Naruto and Sakura had started doing it recently, Naruto more so than he used to — and Kurenai had begun doing it again, when he ruffled her hair and said he'd look out for her. Asuma used to roll his eyes a lot. Tsunade did it, too, when he turned up late with the wrong report, or the wrong document, but still tried to get out of delivering the actual one to her. Shizune did it, when he appeared at the hospital with numerous cuts and bruises. Obito and Rin used to do it all the time.
Sasuke had done it a whole bunch, as well.
He let his eyes flicker back to the pages in front of them, as they began to walk again. He quite enjoyed quiet. He'd never really had any of it with his team — teammates, they were now, Sakura and Naruto — so it was something he quite enjoyed. But, then again, no one ever seemed to treasure it as fully as he did.
"Ugh — this is ridiculous."
He snuck a side glance at Kiba, before shrugging a shoulder, choosing to continue reading his book instead of replying.
Kiba groaned, running a hand through his hair, Akamaru by his side. Absently, Kakashi wondered how long it took to wash that dog — blood would definitely be difficult to get out of white fur. It might not stain, of course, but it would certainly take some scrubbing. "Do we really have to stop every few minutes? No one's following us. Neji said so."
He smiled, behind his mask, "It's a precaution."
"It's stupid," Tenten agreed, tucking her kunai back within its pouch, before folding her arms across her chest — she raised an eyebrow haughtily, and Kakashi wondered, absently, when she'd gotten over that little crush she'd had; he'd overheard her talking to Ino and Sakura about it, a long time ago, when the whole bunch of them were still small and cute.
Looking at the three of them, he decided none of them were small and cute.
Not anymore.
"It's necessary," Kakashi said decisively, before letting out a resigned sigh, snapping his book shut and placing it within his pocket — he turned to his team, hands in pockets, and looked at each of them in turn. Then he sighed again, eyes flickering upwards, before he began to speak. "Listen. Anko — and let me repeat that, just for emphasis; Anko — has gone missing. It's highly likely she was seen at the village we're heading towards, as it would have been midway through her likeliest route home — and, as far as we know, we could be up against anyone. Anybody. The Akatsuki, most likely — and so we've got to be careful, okay? Whether that means stop-starting, walking along back-to-back with our eyes wide open, I don't care; we can't fully rely on Neji's byakugan, and Kiba's sense of smell, if we want to stay alive."
He realised, with a dawning sense of disgust, that he sounded like Iruka.
"Just… we need to be careful."
The other three were silent for a moment, each regarding him with a different emotion — he sort of felt like a bug being inspected, scrutinized beneath three piercing gazes. He shrugged sheepishly, and his fingers itched towards the book in his pocket, when Tenten suddenly leapt forwards, throwing her arms around his neck, and letting out a high-pitched squealing noise which hurt his ears and made him wince. Neji, behind her, looked vaguely astounded and slightly dazed, as if she'd simultaneously punched him in the face — and Kiba merely shrugged a shoulder, tutting and loudly muttering, "Girls."
"Kakashi, sensei, you're so cute," Tenten grinned, grasping his shoulders and pushing him backwards, "I almost want to pinch your cheeks."
"I'd rather you didn't," he replied.
She sort of deflated, taking a step backwards, and Kakashi felt a bit awkward — and just a tad mean. He shrugged again, this time smiling sheepishly, before gesturing for them to follow him, as he turned away; he didn't bother taking his book out of his pocket, this time. Instead, he simply walked.
"Come on — the village is just up ahead."
.
.
"Are you doing the right thing?"
The question rang in her ears, loud and clear. She'd never quite thought what she was doing could be considered the wrong thing; she'd always seen it as helping someone else out — helping out friends. Helping out Sasuke. And, in a roundabout way, helping herself out, as selfish as that might have sounded; with him, she had someone who had no choice but to listen, as she talked. It was listen or become lonely — and the selfish side of her basked in the constant attention. Part of her liked that she was the only bright colour in a bleak, bland world.
But that part — it hurt.
It hurt to think too hard about it, because she would then be faced with a second question — was she doing the right thing, but for the wrong reasons? Was she really doing this for Sasuke? Would she really, as kind as people might believe she was, go and visit a stranger — someone she'd never spoken to once before in her life — for fifty days, before his death, purely out of the goodness of her heart? Or was it because she had an audience, constantly, whenever she wanted? Was it because she was the only one, currently, filling his life?
Or…
Was it for Naruto? For Sakura?
Was it for Sasuke?
Even as she thought, she wasn't sure. She liked to believe — and she pretty much wished — it was for the latter reasons, but she couldn't be certain; not completely and entirely. She couldn't quite tell the difference between her own feelings and the feelings of others — whether she was doing this for herself or for something — someone — else.
"—Hinata!"
His voice was loud, and brilliantly so — it cut quite solidly through her reverie, and she found herself instantly smiling. Hinata blinked, turning around, her hands clasped in front of her — her eyes widened slightly, as she spotted Naruto walking towards her, one arm arching high above his head as he waved frantically, beaming from ear to ear; beside him, Sakura stood politely, her hair tucked behind her ears, smiling at her. She felt ever so slightly embarrassed, blushing a faint shade of pink as she thought of the dandelions and Naruto — and then as she thought of the harsh, horrid words she'd whispered to Sakura.
Still, she smiled as they approached, "Aa, good afternoon, Naruto, Sakura. How are you?"
"We're fine," Naruto replied, cutting Sakura off as she opened her mouth to reply, "We were just heading down to Ichiraku, for lunch. D'you want to join us?"
"I couldn't possibly i—intrude—"
"Please join us," Sakura said, and that was that.
Hinata nodded.
"O—okay."
The walk to Ichiraku's Ramen Bar was silent, and ever so slightly awkward — Sakura walked on one side of Naruto, eyes surveying the shops and scenery around her, humming softly beneath her breath, while Hinata walked on the other side, hands clasped in front of her, eyes trained on the ground below her. Naruto, between the two girls, was oblivious to the tension in the air.
He was his usual, bubbly, loud self.
And he only got louder, as Teuchi passed them each a bowl of ramen, upon seeing them, and claimed it was 'on the house'. The blonde let out a whoop of joy, before ducking forwards, tucking into the ramen as if he hadn't eaten for years.
Ramen with Naruto was always a wonderful thing, Hinata mused — she liked seeing people enjoy themselves, and whether it was during eating or not, she didn't mind. It was just, he became so animated doing the simplest of things; every noodle he slurped seemed to twist and spiral in the air, and he'd finish with a triumphant grin, as if to show he'd beaten that noodle. Then his eyes would search the plate, for his next victim, and his chopsticks would snatch more noodles up — and the entire process would begin all over again.
It was entertaining to watch.
She only became aware of Sakura watching her midway through this, and her gaze flickered sideways, sneaking a glance at the other girl — she was leaning forwards, pink hair falling across her face as she twisted in her seat, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. She was watching both Hinata and Naruto carefully, and she felt her cheeks turn hot, almost instantly — she didn't like knowing eyes were on her. It was a fear that had stemmed from a very early age. Lack of confidence, Kurenai would have said.
Still, that didn't change the fact that Sakura was staring at her, and she wasn't sure why.
"I never thanked you, you know," Sakura spoke, suddenly, and Hinata felt her heartbeat quicken, as if she'd just been caught doing something terrible, "For the things you said."
Absently, Hinata realised Naruto had paused in his eating, staring between the two girls sat on either side of him, shifting awkwardly and uncomfortably in his seat.
"It was r—rude of me—"
"—sure, at the time, it really stung," the other continued, as if nothing had happened. "I was sort of bitter. Angry. I wondered how you could even begin to imagine what it could feel like, to feel this pain — like something's been torn out of you, and you'll never get it back. That's what it's like, I guess. And I just didn't — couldn't — believe that you understood. I was so angry at you. And so sad. Upset at myself, because I knew you were telling the truth. Because I knew I should be trying to step forwards, instead of flinging myself backwards."
A pause, and then—
"So, as much as I disliked you then, I loved you. You were the push I needed — you and… someone else. You both helped, I guess, and I never got to thank you. Because, if it weren't for you, I think I'd be moping somewhere right now. I think I'd never be able to take that unsteady step forwards and then move, one, two, one, two, until I'm full-out running again. And, I guess… I guess, Hinata, you're a really, really wonderful girl."
Sakura smiled.
"So thanks a bunch. It really helped."
There was a moment of silence, as the words really sunk in for Hinata; she blinked once, and a small smile slipped across her face. She sort of still wanted to apologise, because she had been cruel — she had said too much, in her opinion—
"I h—hate people who don't try."
—but, for Sakura, that too much had been just enough.
"…I'm glad I could h—help."
Hinata's smile widened.
"And, for what it's worth, I think you t—tried your hardest."
.
.
The village was empty, when Kakashi and his three-man squad entered it — which was pretty much an instant bad sign. The houses were ransacked, burnt and in shambles; puddles of crimson blood splattered the floor, and there were bodies everywhere. Mothers turned away in horror, cradling their children, crying tears of fear and pain and horror, as they died. Father, holding rakes and staffs — mock weapons — as they attempted to fend off those who'd attacked. It wasn't enough, of course.
He jerked his wrist forwards, gesturing for his teammates to move out — Neji was first to do so, brow furrowed, as he moved across to the left, activating his byakugan instinctively. He moved slowly, cautiously, moving towards the first house — the roof still smoking, the walls only barely standing. He ducked inside, recoiling almost instantly; a woman and her two children lay stiff and cold, blood splattered up across the walls, bodies burnt to a crisp — she was cradling them, holding them close.
Absently, he thought a mother's love was stronger than any other.
He crossed to the wall, pressing his fingers against the red liquid, and his eyes narrowed; it was still warm. This massacre, it could have only happened barely an hour ago, at latest — at earliest, possibly ten to fifteen minutes before they arrived.
It was horrific.
Disgusting.
There were very few moments where Neji wondered if the life of a shinobi was something he'd wish upon any children he were to have, in the future, and this was one of those moments. They'd grow up and get used to this. As much as it hurt to look at all of this death, a part of him was numb to it — a part of him could block it entirely out, turn it into something different, distinguish the lines between him and his life, and them and theirs. Distinguish between him and this dead village.
So he didn't have to feel for them.
So his heart didn't have to bleed.
A distinctly female scream cut through his thoughts, and Neji jolted upwards, eyes wide with disbelief and something akin to fear. The scream came again, short, sharp and familiar.
"Tenten!"
.
.
Hinata pressed her fingers against her lips, hiding her smile, as she sat between Naruto and Sakura, laughing merrily at something he'd said. He was moving his arms, now, flapping them about as if he were trying to fly; his legs kicked outwards, and the stool behind him clattered to the floor — and those silly movements, coupled with the all-too hilarious story of when he first caught Jiraiya peeping on the girl's showers, almost tipped her over the edge. Her eyes crinkled shut and she laughed and laughed, until she felt she could laugh so more.
Until all of her laughter dried up.
She laughed and laughed and laughed.
.
.
"Tenten!"
Neji moved forwards, springing instantly to his feet; he pushed past the door, ignoring the dead bodies behind him, and began to run in the direction of her scream. Earlier, he was quite certain she'd moved to check out the east side of the village, searching for survivors, but he was quite certain her scream had come from the south.
He wondered, absently, why he wasn't using his byakugan.
Raw panic, he decided, and activated it, glancing about him, easily pinpointing her familiar chakra signals — Kiba was closest, alongside Akamaru, and the pair of them were moving rapidly in her direction. Kakashi was next, just barely in front of him, and Neji cursed his luck; it seemed he would be last, as always, when it came to anything to do with Tenten. He began to pick up speed, and his eyes widened slightly — the enemy, stood barely behind Tenten, seemed to be seeping directly out of the earth itself; it's chakra flowed downwards and outwards, disappearing into nothing, it seemed, lost to the ground below it.
Something slice through the air in front of him, and he only just managed to change direction, jerking easily to the left, before throwing himself backwards as the sword slashed outwards again. He recognised it, he realised, and his eyes narrowed; skidding to a halt, he slid into a defensive stance, eyes trained on his target — blue skin, and wild, electric hair; yes, once again, it seemed his foe was Hoshigaki Kisame.
It seemed Akatsuki were involved with Anko's disappearance.
Or so he assumed, anyway.
The missing-nin smiled, flashing sharp, white teeth. "Where's your sensei, kid?"
"…elsewhere."
"You're out of your league," Kisame murmured, teeth still shining, and Neji decided he'd like nothing more than to rip each of those shining, mocking teeth out of the other's mouth, one by one, painfully, "Walk away while I'm still givin' you the chance, kiddo."
"…I'm not a kid."
"Don't assume I'm your opponent — I was just passin' through," the missing-nin's smile widened. "You're makin' silly mistakes, for such a mighty Hyuuga. You seem awfully distracted. If it's because you're thinkin' of your friends, then don't — they're probably all dead by now, 'cept that Kakashi. Madara wants information from him."
Neji narrowed his eyes. "…Madara?"
"Ah, yeah — long story short, he's still alive and kickin', and he has been for some time," Kisame paused, before waving, "Not that it matters what I say to you. You're goin' to be dead any second now."
"I think you're underestimating me."
"I don't think I am," Kisame replied, and Neji felt the first senbon thud into the side of his leg, ripping through tendons and striking bone.
He dropped to his knee, with a hiss of pain, wondering how he could have missed such a thing. Was he really that distracted? He only just managed to duck underneath the second one, fingers slipping into his pouch, pulling out a kunai; he sliced through the air, smacking the final senbon away, and pulled himself to his feet. Tenten's features flashed in front of his mind, but he pushed the thought away — he couldn't save her if he died now, and so he slipped into a defensive stance, one arm above his head, the other down low in front of him.
Kisame regarded his stance with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, an eyebrow arching; he leaned casually on his blade, Samehada, opening his mouth to speak again, before snapping it shut. He seemed to consider something — then, without hesitating, his hands gripped Samehada firmly and he launched himself forwards, swinging the blade heavily.
Neji knew, from the first moment, that he had no chance of beating Hoshigaki Kisame.
He wasn't so arrogant as to believe that he might win the battle; no, that would be a ridiculous thought. He just needed to stall for long enough — long enough for Kisame to leave — but his thoughts weren't solely on that missing-nin, either; the senbon had come from around ten metres away, he judged, in distance, for them to have hit him at approximately that angle. Whoever the other enemy was, he didn't care; as long as they stayed out of the battle, he would be fine — still, somehow the other was managing to mask his chakra, and that was something Neji didn't like. No, he didn't like it at all.
It was unfair.
Samehada sliced through the air, just scratching his arm, and he let out a low hiss of irritation, landing awkwardly on his bad leg; he felt some of his chakra leave him, just the tiniest bit. He felt himself grow wearier. He swayed, only just managing to keep balance, and then he was throwing himself backwards again, as Kisame lashed out again, punching wildly. He wasn't even trying. Neji narrowed his eyes — what an insult.
He span, pushed his arm outwards, palm flat, fingers pointed — he saw Kisame's eyes widen, only just managing to move his head out of the way; but a thin, narrow line of blood still appeared, as the chakra scratched his skin. Neji was barely given a moment to savour his small triumph — exactly four senbon thudded into the crook of the elbow of his outstretched hand, and he let out a hiss of pain, wincing as he pulled his hand back towards his body.
He stayed where he stood, panting.
There was a moment of silence.
"You're stubborn, kid," Kisame frowned, one finger gently pressing against the stem of blood steadily flowing from the scratch on his cheek — deeper than he'd first thought, it seemed, "Give up and die."
Neji chose not to reply, instead slipping back into his defensive stance; this time, his left arm — usually raised high above his head — hung limp and useless by his side. He narrowed his eyes, grit his teeth, let the pain wash over him and then held his head high. He was a Konoha shinobi. He needed to save Tenten. And he wasn't…
He wouldn't be stopped that easily.
"Stop bein' so noble," the other sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, before swinging Samehada up and over his shoulder. "Finish this off, would you, Kabuto?"
Kabuto—
Missing-nin. S-rank criminal. New member of the Akatsuki, apparently.
Neji didn't really get a chance to remember anything more about the other, because there was a sudden spurt of pain — blinding, aching, horrid pain — and then he was falling, slipping into blackness, dropping to his knees. Senbon sunk deep within his skin — every surface that could be seen, bar his neck and face, as he'd thrown his hands upwards at just the last moment. The world around him was spinning. There was blood. His body ached. Everything — everything — burned; and his entire body seemed to be closing, shutting, switching the lights off — but his mind was so alert, to every movement, to every burst of pain.
The last thing he saw, as the world faded to black, was the black-and-red coats of the Akatsuki.
And a swirling orange mask.
A single crimson eye.
Then—
Nothing.
.
.
Hinata made her way slowly towards Sasuke's cell, still chuckling, the last remnants of laughter still fresh on her lips — she passed Ibiki with a wave, as he gestured for her to just wander on through, and she realised she practically knew her way down to Sasuke's cell. She only made one wrong turning, and that was because she hadn't been concentrating; but, other than that, she made very few slip ups, and she was still in a good mood, even as she made her way past the unsmiling ANBU — familiar to her now, even to the tiniest detail — and placed herself down in front of Sasuke.
He peered down at her.
"…you're happy, today," he murmured, finally, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
"Of course," Hinata replied, and her smile was so wide that he gave in, and offered her a small, tiny, fleeting smile in return, "I don't have any reason not to be h—happy. It's been raining a lot, recently, but it cleared up for today — and I s—spent all lunchtime eating free ramen. I've no reason to be u—unhappy."
"Is that so?"
"It is," she nodded, "I'm in quite a good mood."
"I can see that."
Hinata paused for a moment, before peering at Sasuke, pursing her lips. "…what's your happiest memory, S—Sasuke?" She asked, after a moment, before blushing beetroot red — more like the Hinata he knew, he mused — and pressing her fingers together nervously, "Of course, you d—don't have to answer, if you don't want to. I just thought it'd be a nice thing to talk about…"
"Memories," Sasuke corrected.
She waited for him to collect himself and continue; for a second, he seemed lost in thought, gazing past her at the wall opposite. In those few seconds, she mused that he was perhaps the most peaceful person she'd seen, just for a little while. He was no longer frowning; his lips were slightly parted — it was an almost dazed expression, and she liked it. It suited him, she thought. She'd like to daze him more often.
"I was pretty young, I remember," he began, finally. "But, then again, I was always pretty young. My brother, he used to — I used to go training with him a lot, and I used to end up tiring myself out pretty quickly. Afterwards, he used to press his finger against my forehead, right between my eyes, and then… and then he'd pick me up and put me on his back. And we'd just walk along in silence. I used to have my hands looped over his shoulders, resting across his chest, and I used to imagine I could hear his heart beating in time with mine. And I figured, at that young age, that we'd never be apart."
He paused.
"He was my big brother, after all. We could… never be apart, right?"
There was silence again, and Hinata smiled gently, prompting him, "You said memories, not memory."
"I know," he replied, with a small frown, "I've got three. The second — it's a photo. We took it as Team Seven, ages ago; I kept mine, as stupid as it sounds. I kept it in my pocket, for ages, and then, every now and again, I'd just look at it. It might not seem like it, Hinata, but I guess I always wondered whether I'd done the right thing. I never asked anyone, never said anything, but I always wondered — wondered whether I'd just stumbled and tripped through my life, making mistake after mistake."
"I don't think you did," Hinata said, her voice quiet, as she tried to find the right words, "But you were y—young; and we're all foolish when we're young."
Sasuke rolled his eyes.
"You weren't."
Hinata blinked, taken aback. "…I w—wasn't?"
"Of course you weren't," he continued, with a smirk, "You were as polite and well-mannered then as you are now, and that's a fact."
"You didn't know me."
"I know you now."
Hinata blinked again, before giggling, eyes crinkling with laughter, smile widening — brightening up the room, Sasuke imagined. Like sunshine, trapped within a cell. She was so bright, so beautiful, so wonderful. He wanted to touch her, then — because he was certain that brightness would swallow him whole. And he would forget.
With her, she made him remember — but she also made him forget.
She was sunshine, he figured, personified.
"I guess you do," she giggled, and he chuckled, matching her laughter — and their eyes met, just for a fraction of a second, and nothing could bring them down from that high, as they laughed and laughed and laughed — and they didn't even know what they were laughing at, at the end of it. They were just laughing. Because they could.
Because they had no reason not to.
.
.
—the.
There was nothing.
Just blackness.
And pain.
—eathe.
It was all fading away, in what felt like seconds. Everything — glimpses of his life. A smiling face, pale-skinned, lilac eyes — Hinata. Sunshine hair and blue eyes, and such wondrous laughter — Naruto. Dark, ink-black hair, wide eyes, and as green as the grass — "Never give up!" — Lee. And…
And…
Brown hair, brown eyes, a smile.
—Breathe.
"…Tenten."
Finally, Neji opened his eyes.
Because, even if he died, he had to save her.
.
.
"What about your cousin?" Sasuke asked, finally, once the laughter had died down. "Weren't you worried, because you never said goodbye?"
Her smile faltered.
He hastily hurried to amend his mistake, "But — but I'm sure he's fine!"
And Hinata smiled.
"…of course he is. You're right. N—Neji… Neji's strong. He's the strongest person I know. He's the b—bravest person I've met. He's been through so much and he's… he's changed. And that shows that he can be something b—bigger than even Naruto, I think… And…"
She trailed off.
Her smile was so bright, Sasuke felt his heart would burst.
"He's a survivor."
.
.
Kneeling over Tenten, he felt as though his heart might burst; she was breathing, but barely — her arm was broken at three different points, and there were rips in her clothes; through them, he could see red, raw cuts. They looked awful. Too bright, he thought, and he wondered, absently, which of them had been carrying the bandages; if it were Kakashi, he might just give up then and there, but he dragged himself over to Kiba anyway, to check the other's pulse and backpack. The boy was breathing, and seemed in a slightly more ragged state than Tenten, but Neji still couldn't bring himself to see to him first.
He snatched the other's backpack away, heading over to Tenten, and emptied the contents onto the floor; he snatched up a cleaning ointment and set to work cleaning the wounds he could see, bandaging them once he was certain the dirt had been removed. He worked steadily, patiently, despite the fact that his entire body was singing in protest. Once he had finished with Tenten, he pulled himself over to Kiba, repeating the process all over again.
Kakashi was nowhere to be seen.
No doubt they'd taken him, then, for interrogational purposes. Or to prove a point. Whichever.
He paused only once, to yank a stubborn senbon from his side.
Then, when he was completely finished, he glanced around, searching for Akamaru — he placed his fingers to his lips and whistled once, shrilly, as he'd seen Kiba do before. Then patiently he waited, legs crossed, absently bandaging one of his own wounds; Kiba had no doubt sent Akamaru away, if the other weren't by his owner, and the big dog finally appeared, heading into the clearing with a whimper, tailed tucked between his legs.
Neji smiled wearily. "…s'alright. It's only me."
The dog tilted its head, gazing at him with wide eyes.
"…you mind carrying these two?" He found that he was slurring his words, and wondered if he was going to pass out. "…s'just, I'm not feeling as good as I thought I would, and we need to get as far away from here as possible, 'kay? Akamaru?"
He probably imagined it, in his dazed state, but the dog winced.
Then Neji set about lifting the two onto the beast, first gripping Kiba by his armpits and dragging the other upwards. It was tiring, gruelling work, and he found that quite a few of his wounds began to bleed anew. He didn't waste any time trying to bandage them or stem the flow of blood. Instead, he merely continued as he was, until both Kiba and Tenten were upon Akamaru's back, and then he was forced to sit down.
Absently, he realised his hair had spilled out of its band.
It stuck to his face.
"We're goin' to walk for as… as far as we can, 'maru," Neji spoke, finally, panting, "An' when I pass out, you're goin' to keep running… You're going… goin'… going to get to Konoha. And only when you're there, and these… these two are safe — only then can you come back, 'kay?"
The dog whined.
"Promise?"
Akamaru seemed to nod again, barking once.
Neji pressed a hand against his forehead. "I'm talking to a dog. This is probably what it feels like to be slowly dying, then."
Funny, that.
He'd felt this once before.
Except, he'd been younger then, and he'd been chasing after Uchiha Sasuke.
Always chasing after someone else.
And he was going to die young.
Life was unfair.
He pulled himself to his feet, pressed his hands into his pockets, and then began to stagger slowly along, Akamaru behind him. He began his walk, bleeding, shambling, a mess, and, absently, he wondered when he would finally collapse. When the pain would become too much. He wondered if he'd made the right decision. Should he have gone after Kakashi and died valiantly, or should he die like this, fleeing back to his home, tail between his legs, dignity lost?
Screw dignity, Neji decided, and he began to walk.
.
.
"Are you doing the right thing?"
Hinata blinked.
"I think so. I think… I think I'm saving his life. For fifty days, at least."
.
.
.
notes2: the end was referring to shino's earlier question & hinata's answer, if you didn't get it. :)