It's All About the Timing
Hinata watches, for a moment, the gray clouds coming in from the north; afterwards, she settles just slightly further into the bench. She does not make herself too comfortable. She will leave soon, and she doesn't want to give Tenten the impression that she's obligated to stay and keep her company as she watches the storm roll in.
They're sharing a bench outside the graveyard that holds Neji's place of rest. Just a while ago, they had both come to visit with him. It hadn't been planned, but neither of them wanted to be rude and leave too suddenly, so after their visit, they both had come out here to sit. Spring had not yet arrived, but one could almost taste it in the air. The rain would be icy, Hinata is sure — but it will be rain, nonetheless.
So they sit on that shared bench under the naked cover of the overhead trees, and really, despite all their best efforts, they hardly say a word to one another.
And, really, you must once again believe Hinata when she says that there is no ill will between her and Tenten. She's aware that the last time she had stated such a fact about someone, Sasuke Uchiha had thrown her up onto Ichiraku's roof — but, really, Sasuke is an enigma. That can hardly count.
Tenten is a fine, sweet girl. She has always put in a lot of effort towards Neji, both in his life and afterwards, and Hinata knows that only someone with a good heart would be willing to do so much.
The reason they are not speaking has nothing to do with a hatred between them.
Nor does it have anything to do with a lack of conversation stirring between them, because there is plenty to talk about.
Rather, Hinata is sure that, somehow, the right words are just evading them.
It was simple and easy in the grave, but that was because they were talking to Neji, and Neji (for the two of them, at least) is very easy to talk to. They can harp on about the weather and rumors about this person and that as if the supply of gossip was endless. But the moment they stepped into the street, spotted the bench, and sat next to each other without even sharing a glance, all words escaped them. It was like they left their tongues with Nej — he looks down at the pink muscles left by his tombstone, frowns, and scares off any crows from picking at them as he grumpily waits for them to come back.
Every so often, between glances towards the sky, Hinata finds herself catching the words in Tenten's eyes. If she had to guess (and Hinata fancies herself a very good guesser), she'd suspect her friend would like to talk about Shino. She wonders, however, what kind of way she would talk about him. If it were strictly friendly, she'd imagine Tenten would list a few new details she's learned about him, like how he's exceptionally talented at standing still for long periods of time, or how his prolonged presence around her has gotten her used to the bugs. But if Tenten were a girl in love, Hinata imagines she'd be much more curious.
"What kind of seasoning does he like on salmon?" she might ask. Maybe her eyes might dip, embarrassed. Or they may rise to the sky, pretending to be distracted by the storm, as if her heart is not roaring in her ears.
Hinata doesn't know.
Rather — she knows what seasoning he likes on all kinds of fish. She doesn't know, however, how Tenten would talk about Shino, if she so chose to talk about him in this particular moment.
But Hinata —
She knows how she'd talk about Sasuke Uchiha.
She'd say he's a perfect partner when he's helping her keep the private moments between friends rolling, rather than trying to destroy the very thing she's protecting. She'd say he might come off a little rude at times, but he tends to mean well. He knows how to wrap a hand well, and he says her name like it's a sweet kind of poison. Strictly, she would talk about him. She would go on like he was a subject of a report paper, and Tenten would stare and nod, learning. Hinata would be teaching — she definitely would not be asking.
Because she is not curious about Sasuke Uchiha.
No. Not at all.
She doesn't need to know what kind of seasoning he puts on his salmon. Maybe, down the line, she'll learn — but this is not something she's going to search for.
Wind blows over them. It brings words to Tenten's mouth, and she says, "Did you hear about Temari and Shikamaru?"
Hinata watches as the calm browns in Tenten's eyes tuck away the subject of Shino Aburame. She's decided to not mention him, and Hinata plays along.
"Yes," she says. "I have."
Tenten smile, and they stop there. Somehow, it feels odd to talk about the approach of a new life when sitting in front of a place full of long-passed ones.
When Hinata turns back to the sky, the storm is closer, and she takes the umbrella that she had leaned on the side of the bench and hands it to Tenten.
"I have extras," she explains, smiling simply. "Here."
Tenten takes it, admiring the bright red handle, and thanks her.
Hinata stands, murmuring that she has errands to tend to, and thanks Tenten for keeping her and Neji company. She leaves with a small wave, turning to walk against the flow of the wind, hair pulling back and ears turned red from the nips of the chilly air.
She hopes the umbrella will help, just in case Tenten and Shino happen to meet during the storm.
...
She had boughten about twenty more umbrellas, and through the rest of the day, between house errands such as grabbing new towels and finding the right kind of screws for a wobbly cupboard in her kitchen, Hinata has busied herself with handing out said umbrellas to any friend or passerby who had a particular look on their face — like they had something important to do or someone important to find in the very near future.
By sunset, the clouds have overtaken the sky, and the streets are slick with rain.
Hinata is almost positive she's handed out the umbrellas to all who need them. She's walking down the street, going over the checklist, when her eyes find the familiar face of Shino off by the gate. It seems he's just switched off watch duty in one of the main watchtowers, and Hinata is quick to pull out a simple, black umbrella to give to him.
But then, before she can make it anywhere near him, she stops.
Tenten is a few paces from him. She's just walked out of a store, rummaging through a bag; when she looks up, she sees him, drenched in rain, and pauses. She opens her umbrella before stepping out from under the small, concrete cover at the front of the store, and after another moment of quiet pause, Tenten slowly makes her way to Shino.
The hypnotizing prattle of rain hitting her shoulders ceases, and Hinata tears her eyes away from her two friends to find an umbrella over her head and Sasuke Uchiha just behind her right shoulder, frowning.
"You're a mess," he says.
He has a particular look that has no name, but when Hinata stares at it and really thinks, the first word that comes to her mind is Stalker.
And that floods her brain with a memory from two days ago, to what she had said to him, to what that had meant and how he had looked at her, then — not as Sasuke Uchiha, but someone different. Someone who had his face, his mannerisms, but a whole new look on life. On her, at the very least.
She thinks about it.
She thinks about how they are both stalkers, in their own way.
She thinks about how she would explain it, if he asked.
"You keep saying that people with commonality work well together," he might tell her. "Would we work?"
And she'd say yes, of course — because they both know how to listen, and the care they hold for people runs deep and viciously through them. She'd explain it like they were different people, like they were Temari and Shikamaru or Naruto and Ino.
If he had asked, she would have answered.
"Hyuuga."
It just came so easily. She didn't have to even think about it.
"Hyuuga."
The world readjusts. It focuses, and she's back in the present. She realizes she's been staring at him, and he stares back. Her name is still that poison — dragged out in irritation, at first, then a slight worry.
And then she watches her daydreams get captured in his eyes. He falls into the same spell, thinking the same lines of thought she had been. The umbrella tips a bit above them. Their shoulders are sprinkled with bits of rain.
"Hinata."
And then it stops.
The rain is gone.
Night must have passed, and the storm is long gone; when she looks, the horizon is glowing with a new light, and everything is singing.
...
He looks expectant, like he's waiting for something from her.
He looks like a teacher, and she's a student, fumbling for the right answer.
" Ehhh! Some downpour, huh?"
Both of their eyes flash with recognition, and they whirl around and find Naruto is talking to Shino and Tenten, protected by the polka-dot umbrella Hinata had given him just an hour ago. Tenten and Shino are under the same one, shoulders almost pressed together, and Hinata thinks she sees some kind of expression slipping off their faces as they greet Naruto. She's not sure what it was, however.
She hadn't been paying attention.
Shame fills her gut. So much for keeping watch.
Sasuke turns back, a bit annoyed with how Naruto's voice rings through the air. Hinata tries to smile, and she opens the umbrella she was going to give to Shino and steps out from under Sasuke's.
"Oh dear," she says. "Look what slipped past us."
He doesn't say anything. It's like they're sitting on a bench in front of the graveyard. Hinata knows who she'd talk about — but what about Sasuke? Who would he talk about?
Her knuckles are cold. She grips the handle of her umbrella hard.
"Stay dry, Mr. Uchiha."
Her daydream slips out of his gaze. It falls to the street, shattered.
...
"Hinata."
He had said —
That . . . .
That was definitely her name, and it definitely did not sound like any sort of poison she knows of. It keeps playing over and over in her head. When she gets home, when she showers, when she's pacing around her room, drying her hair with a towel — it's her name she keeps thinking about.
It sounds like sake. It sounds like a temptation that lingers on your tongue long after you've had a taste. In some ways, it's still dangerous, but for an entirely different reason.
It's not like poison at all.
...
And now, all that Hinata can think is: Why was he there?
And she's sure this is not the start of something.
Friends, after all, can be curious about friends. As long as it's not to an extreme level — then that would bring up some concerns.
And Sasuke is . . . certainly her friend.
She's sure of it.
Almost positively sure.
...
The next morning is full of puddles and soppy earth.
When Hinata finds Shino and Kiba warming their hands against bowls in a small soup shop, she decides to join them. Kiba's boots are caked in mud as he swings his feet and happily slurps some of the broth down. Shino looks dry and clean, with no signs of sickness from being stuck in the storm just yesterday.
"Ah, damn it!"
Hinata brings her spoon to her lips, watching Kiba across from the small, round table as he stares out the window. Someone must have caught his eye, for he blows his hair out of his face before going back to his slurping.
"What is it about the cold weather that makes people all sappy and —" His face twists, "gross? "
Shino doesn't even spare him a glance as he dabs at his mouth. "I cannot imagine what you mean."
"You can't be serious." Kiba gestures wildly out the window. Hinata looks out to find many people dressed in bright jackets and mittens. "They're, like, everywhere! Up 'nd down the streets. Sis says it's romantic, but seriously — it's like someone new we know is coupling up every week! There's gotta be somethin' in the air."
Hinata meets Shino's gaze and smiles. They both know it's somewhat due to her efforts. With the severe drop of interruptions in Konoha, more people have been able to confess and go on dates without fear of being suddenly stopped by some force of nature — usually in the form of either Naruto or Kiba.
"Strange," Shino murmurs.
Hinata giggles. "Very."
Kiba pouts, feeling like he's somehow being made fun of. "I think how we do it — I think this works better. No one gets in our way."
Now Hinata is looking at Shino again, but this time, she's searching. She's wondering if he's thinking about Tenten, or if he's agreeing with Kiba.
Instead, he shifts, and he says, "Not for long."
Hinata straightens, and Kiba's jaw drops.
"What —"
"You've heard the story," Shino says. "Hinata and Uchiha. She even pinned him to the street."
Now Hinata is gaping. He's absolutely stirring shit to get a reaction out of Kiba, and she's more impressed than upset.
But Kiba does not give them the reaction they're both expecting. He just snorts, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smug manner.
"No way!" he exclaims. "Not a chance."
Hinata tilts her head.
"I'm sure there's a good reason," he continues, returning to loudly slurping the rest of his soup. "I know you, Hinata, and I know that damn Uchiha. It just ain't happening. So don't worry. I'm on your side."
She smiles in that manner where she can't tell if it's genuine or not. She goes back to finishing her soup, listening to how her pulse gallops.
...
For the next few days, she does her job well. She's stopped numerous private moments from being interrupted, and the satisfaction is slowly growing to the point where she can almost forgive herself for not being able to help Shino and Tenten keep their . . . well, whatever their moment was.
Her hands are beginning to heal nicely, as well. Sakura told her she's happy with the results the last time she examined them, and soon enough, Hinata will be off watch duty and back onto full missions from the Hokage.
In the evening, she's got herself perched with her legs dangling over the edge of the tower. She still has a few hours before someone comes to relieve her, and while she does spend most of her time watching the lands beyond Konoha's walls, every now and then she looks over to watch the happenings below her.
Sakura and Rock Lee, she's noticed, have become quite close to one another. They started to train in the grounds Hinata's tower overlooks a few hours ago, and there's just something that seems so obvious. Perhaps it's just training. Perhaps Hinata is rusty on what it looks like to train with someone else, but the way they look at each other — the way Lee puts in all his efforts, yet still never aims to critically hurt her — it just seems special. It seems like a different kind of training.
The eight-meter ladder that stretches from the ground far below to her tower creaks — and only for a nanosecond, Hinata wonders if the person coming to relieve her came early.
But she ought to know, really, that such a silly thought is not possible.
Not when Sasuke Uchiha is in Konoha, at least.
...
"I'm contemplating."
He's climbed up the tower like it's expected for him to be there. Sitting on the floor, one leg folded under him while the other hangs down the hole where the ladder leads to the ground, he looks like he should belong there.
Hinata's byakugan traces the lands, deactivates, and turns back to watch over Sakura and Lee.
"That's good," she says.
His eyes remain steady on her. "I'm contemplating if I should inform the Hokage on your inability to get through a simple watch shift without getting distracted."
She cannot help it — the laugh escapes her before she can stop it. Not that she would stop it. There's nothing wrong with laughing while on the job.
"You're the distraction, Mr. Uchiha."
"That's even worse," he says. "Distracted by a teammate. The Hokage will love this."
She checks and double-checks that the training duo down below are perfectly alone, and then she turns to him. "Go ahead. I'd imagine he'd be none too pleased with hearing that you're distracting a much needed Hyuuga on the job."
His nose curls in amusement, and he turns his body so that both legs are now laying securely on the wooden floor.
"I'm hardly the cause," Sasuke says. "You go ahead without my help, Hyuuga."
She knows he's talking about the incident in the rain, but what catches her attention is that name.
He's gone back to it — to the poison. Sweet, but deadly.
Her chest tightens, mostly in confusion. He's watching her like she watches people, and he must notice. He must see it in her eyes.
"I've been around Naruto recently," he says. Below, Sakura and Lee have tired out — or rather, Sakura has tired out, and Lee pretends for her sake. "Missions and such. He drags me around, sometimes to just talk. It's about Ino, usually. Of course it is — but sometimes, it's about you." There's a small pause, like he's expecting a reaction from her. When he doesn't get one, Sasuke continues. "He loves repeating himself, especially when it comes to you. Hinata once did this or Hinata really likes that."
Her mouth peels back, as if to laugh, but the air just will not come to her.
"Hinata, Hinata," he says. "Over and over. Day after day."
Lee has that determined look. It's so bright and startling that Hinata recognizes it from all the way up here. He makes his way to Sakura, who splashes water on her hands, unaware.
"Oi."
Sasuke flicks the side of her nose, and she jumps, looks away, and rubs at it.
"You're distracting me," she tells him.
And Sasuke — well, something about him reminds her of Lee.
"I know, Hinata," he says.
It's almost impossible to pull her eyes from him. She thinks, maybe, she could stare at him forever — watch him like he is Konoha, protect him from the annoyances and distractions, the flocks of interruptions. He'd be safe with her. She'd be that circle of isolation, of privacy.
She thinks she'd do well in that case — until she hears Ino's voice, and her chin snaps down. Ino has come to find Sakura and is practically dragging her from the grounds. Lee is standing there, watching — his moment being pulled away from him.
Again, her heart clenches with guilt.
Sasuke watches, and he breathes low, and he almost looks ready to jump down there —
"SAKURA!" Lee yells. Birds flock from the wall. Ino stops, and Sakura twists to face him. "I'M VERY MUCH IN LOVE WITH YOU, SAKURA! PLEASE CONSIDER ME!"
Not only does Sakura's face turn red, but so does Ino's. Even Hinata feels flushed, and she grabs Sasuke's shoulder and pulls the both of them as far back into the shadows of the tower as possible, until their backs hit the wall. Winter suddenly feels warm, and they stare off at the forest, wordless, a bit startled.
Her mouth is dry. She rolls her tongue around, then says, "I wasn't expecting that."
Sasuke's eyes lid slightly. "I suppose," he says, "he can handle himself fine without our help."
A sudden rush of giggles hits her, and Hinata clamps both hands over her mouth, shaking her head as she snorts. Sasuke laughs with her, leaning back, resting against the wall.
...
As they sit together, gathering their breaths, Sasuke muses, "What do they have in common?"
And Hinata explains that they're both extremely strong — and not just physically strong.
"Because," she says, meeting his eye, " it's those that are strong that need the most support."
...
They sit close to each other, like it's raining again and they only have one umbrella. He's nearly leaning into her. There's plenty of room in the watchtower. It's not lacking space at all.
"Mr. Uchiha."
He sneers. "You make me sound so old when you say it like that. We're the same age."
She closes her eyes, smiling, imagining him with gray hair, walking with a cane. "It fits," she says. "You act like a grandfather."
"Oi."
She laughs, and with how it bounces around in her body, she loses just a bit of balance, and her head leans just slightly towards him.
"You scare the genin. They always freeze up when you're around."
"That's their fault. They play stupid when no one's watching them."
"Grandfather," she twitters, and he kicks her leg lightly.
It's turning into that point in the evening when the sky is almost cream, and the sun is gentle and sleepy. Soon, her relief will be here, and she'll be able to go home and take a warm bath. She'll go to bed early, readying herself for another day of spying about and covering for people.
"Mr. Sasuke," she tries, and he snorts.
"You're hopeless."
Maybe she'll find Naruto. She'll take him to ramen, and she'll ask him all about Sasuke. And he'll do it. He'll talk about him, and he'll repeat that name — again and again — over and over — until it's all she knows.
". . . Sasuke," she whispers.
His chest is against the back of her shoulder.
"What is it?"
His name is like sake, too.
She'll have to add that to the list of things that they have in common, that makes them work — in case he ever asks, of course.
"What kind of seasoning do you put on salmon?"
He huffs, the air hitting the back of her skull. Her face feels warm. Hinata presses her hands between her knees.
"What kind of question is that?" Sasuke leans forward and rests his chin on the top of her head. "Stalker."
It vibrates from his throat and into the back of her neck, and that's when Hinata's convinced she is absolutely and totally screwed.