It's All About the Timing

There's something about it.

Really. There is.

There's something about that haunting pull of attraction that makes everything seem right and wrong. There's a picture there, in front of you. It's so simple and plain, but there's something there — something hidden. There has to be. It can't just be a picture; because you feel that pull, and the paint melts and morphs into something new in your eyes. But is it only in your eyes? Are you only seeing what you want to see, or is it real? When you press your fingers to the canvas, does the paint stick to your fingers?

In other words . . . .

Hinata has found herself a tad paranoid.

When the evidence is laid out in front of her, really, she has to believe two things:

1) She likes Sasuke; and

2) Sasuke likes her back.

It's in the way he always looks for her, how he leaps up rooftops and climbs into watchtowers so that they're on the same level of standing. It's how he flicks her to get her attention — not painful or obnoxious, and just the slightest bit of skin contact. It's how he says her name like it's sake, and it's the way laughter catches in his throat, rumbling through his body, whenever he's around her.

It's all there. Sasuke Uchiha is a boy in love — with her.

And that makes things complicated.

Not because she doesn't like the attention — because, again, with all she's gathered in the last month, Hinata's very sure she likes him back, just as strongly.

The issue is Konoha — that damn curse that infects every street, every corner shop, every residential neighborhood. It's a different story now because it would be her own, private, intimate moment that she will have to be protecting, and that sounds entirely too messy. The idea of her being pleasant company towards Sasuke while also constantly checking their surroundings for possible interruptions makes her fingers curl with stress.

Not to mention — if he so chooses to confess —

Well.

Needless to say, this is the reason Hinata has been prone to paranoia for the past four days.

Whenever Sasuke shows up — which, of course, is constantly — she automatically falls into a state of full, absolute concentration. She checks the surrounding area with her byakugan before turning to focus on him, taking in every aspect of his expression and body posture, wondering if this is the time he chooses to confess.

And, well . . . admittedly, she's made a few mistakes in the past.

Because Hinata, again, is plagued with paranoia.

There is a painting, and its name is Sasuke Uchiha, and he is ever-changing in her ever-watchful eyes.

...

The first mistake came on a surprisingly warm evening. Most of the villagers had their heavy coats wrapped around their waists or hanging over their shoulders. Sakura Haruno was following this trend, her biceps bare and taking the interest of her date. Really, Rock Lee was having a hard time looking away from her arms, and Hinata thought that was rather endearing from her spot on the opposite side of the street.

"Does he have a fetish?" Sasuke, next to her, mused.

She gasped and smacked his shoulder. "Don't say that!"

He smirked, eyes remaining on the couple as they broke their chopsticks apart and began to eat their ramen. Sakura's shoulders had flexed, and Rock Lee had almost choked on his noodles. "I wonder — if she notices, would she be offended?" Hinata watched his mouth tighten as he prepared himself to mockingly speak in Sakura's voice. "My eyes are up here, Lee. "

Hinata snorted and smacked his shoulder again. "She doesn't sound like that. Pay attention."

And — because this was Sasuke Uchiha in his playful mode — he did the exact opposite and looked down at her. And maybe it's the angle, the way his chin was inclined just a tad, but the distance between them suddenly seemed smaller. There was a warm light caught in the outskirts of his pupils. Hinata's stomach was filled with dove wings.

And she thought, Oh. He's going to say it now!

So she grabbed him and yanked him deep into the shadows of the street, took a final scan of the area for the sake of Sakura and Lee's date, but also for her own privacy, and waited.

It came a bit late — the realization. She noticed the missing light from his eyes, first, and the realization that it was a mere reflection of the store lights and not a blooming warmth of love in his soul hit her like cold, icy water.

Immediately, she let go of him.

He stared at her, wondering, waiting.

She made the excuse that she thought Sakura might see them, face turned down, cheeks lit on fire.

...

Another time came a dreary morning. Dreary, as in gray and cold, the sky lifeless, the trees bare and rattling.

But that did not mean Konoha, itself, was dreary.

Especially not when it came to Ino and Naruto.

Hinata was the first to discover this upon walking the halls of Hokage Tower. She was asked to look over information for one of her clansmen, who was injured during a recent mission, and on her way out, she turned a corner and stumbled her way onto a rather heavy make-out session between the two . . . passionate nin.

Immediately, she returned to the other side of the corner and slammed her back against the wall, starstruck.

Sasuke found her no more than a minute later. It took a simple look at her face for him to understand something rather interesting must be on the other side of that corner, and she shot him a warning look.

"Don't," she whispered.

He did not listen to her — though, by the look on his face upon sighting the couple in their tangle of limbs and tongues, he definitely wished he had.

"That's the second time," he muttered, folding his arms, standing in front of her. "It's like they're asking to be caught."

Hinata smiled weakly and watched the other end of the hallway.

The noises were horrid. Naruto's moans and Ino's giggles made her spine curl into itself.

She couldn't find the will to look in Sasuke's direction at all.

For the sake to drown out the noises alone, she began to speak. Her voice was low and under her breath, but it was enough to overwhelm the other noises trapped in her ears.

"I tried namazake sake for the first time a few days ago," Hinata said. Sasuke shifted a tad closer to listen. "I had some with Shikamaru — apparently, it came from the Kazekage, and Temari wanted it so bad — but, of course, with her being pregnant . . . ." She gulped when the flood of memories of how she came to learn that information flooded her. "So, well, Shikamaru had to get rid of it. But he didn't want to throw it away, so he went around and drank with friends. We had a few shots together. It's, um, quite fruity. It makes your mouth feel clean. I wonder if you . . . ."

Sasuke did not say anything upon her clear invitation to join the one-sided conversation.

Hinata's eyes stayed at the end of the hallway. "So we drank together, and ever since, I've had a craving for it. Konoha does not have any namazake, however. It must be special to Suna, so I've been in a terrible situation. I'm nearly inclined to ask the Hokage to give me a mission to Suna, if just so I can get my hands on a few bottles."

Her joke was made heavy by the sound of lip-smacking in the background.

Hinata shouldn't have started talking about sake. It was a dangerous start to things.

It made her think of his name, which made her think of her name, and how he said it — how it gathered sweetness in his mouth as it rolled along his tongue — and that made her think of his mouth, the way it shaped when he spoke to her, how the shape of his mouth was different when he regarded her as opposed to anyone else.

Thinking about Sasuke's mouth was not a good thing, at present; and —

And she wondered if he could hear it. The absolute longing in her voice.

Hinata looked up, and she was surprised to see it in his face, too. It ate at his expression like a wildfire. The smoke was in his eyes. She could almost smell it.

She was nanoseconds away from activating her byakugan and finding them the nearest, isolated room that had a lock on the inside — when —

"I wish they'd just stop, already," Sasuke grumbled.

Reality sunk her down from her high, from that fuzzy feeling in her head — similar to how she feels when drinking sake — that coolness against her lips —

Right.

Longing.

Sasuke longed to get as far away from the making-out couple as possible.

Hinata sighed and turned back to watch for anyone who may stumble upon them.

...

And now, Hinata is at the entrance of the Hyuuga graveyard, watching Tenten and Shino chat with her passed cousin. The cold has returned with vengeance, not yet ready to fall to the warm calls of spring, so Shino has given his coat to her, and Tenten laughs as a beetle warms itself against the nape of her neck.

Shino's face makes everything crystal clear. And maybe that's an odd thing to say about her usually expressionless friend, but Hinata likes to think she's gained the ability to read him over the decade-and-a-half of them knowing each other. Shino very much wants to hold Tenten's hand. It cuts the air. It silences the birds.

It's so obvious — and Hinata is almost jealous of Tenten — because she has someone so obvious pursuing her, while Hinata has been left to the clutches of paranoia, of second-guessing herself, of reading the signs wrong time and time again.

Shino wants to hold Tenten's hand, but he doesn't.

And now, Hinata is irked.

She wants to march up to him.

She wants to grab him by the collar of his sweater and shake him.

"What are you doing!?" she'd ask. "Aren't you a ninja? Haven't you risked your life for more complicated things? Just confess, already!"

But as soon as the thought hits her, it drifts away.

No. It's not Shino's fault.

Really, Hinata is just frustrated with her own circumstances.

"Mn." The wind is no longer hitting her right side. Sasuke is a giant blocking her from the biting bellows. "I guess that Inuzuka's theory was right."

Hinata can't think of anything witty to say. She's still pulling herself out of that sinkhole of bitterness.

Sasuke doesn't seem to notice as he continues, "Speaking of dogs."

They both turn to find a pack of strays trotting their way. There's a crinkle, and Hinata's eyes flash down to find that Sasuke is holding a bag of dog treats. He throws a few, and after the pack gobbles them up, he starts walking away from the graveyard, throwing more down, leading the dogs away.

Hinata follows him, a bit stunned.

"How?" she asks.

They turn a corner. The dogs' tails are wagging so fast, Hinata almost wonders if they will start flying.

"I've been down these streets plenty," he says. "There are always strays around. I prepared — just in case."

Her chest tightens as she's reminded why she's fallen so hard and hopelessly for this man. They make their way to a small, public garden a block away from the graveyard, where Sasuke drops the rest of the treats from the dogs to dig into as they continue their way down the isolated sidewalk.

It . . . really is just them here.

So Hinata, naturally, wonders if this was all a plan. If he simply needed a reason to get her alone.

Her pulse starts to race, though she fights to control it. She's been wrong before. There's no good reason to get her hopes up just yet.

But when his steps slow and he turns to her, Hinata automatically checks and re-checks their surroundings.

No one.

They're alone.

He's —

"I have a mission in a couple days," he tells her.

Oh. The thought echoes through her body.

It feels like her heart fell between her feet.

Hinata smiles. "Come back soon, then. It's gotten hard to be a stalker without you."

Sasuke has an expression that Hinata can only describe as moldable. Like soft clay.

He flicks the side of her nose. "Don't do anything stupid. Your hands just got done healing."

She holds them out between them. She invites him to touch them, to feel the skin with his own fingers. She'd even let him pretend that he's doing it just to examine how the burns healed — all she wants is for him to touch her.

But he doesn't.

He leaves.

...

For two seconds, Hinata wonders.

Maybe he doesn't actually —

But she's quick to throw that thought out her bedroom window.

Of course, he does.

So why wasn't he making any moves?

Well, to be fair, nor am I.

She pauses in her folding of laundry, realization lighting her eyes.

Who said she had to wait?

Who said she had to live paranoid until Sasuke got the courage to confess?

Wouldn't it be easier for her to plan on her own time?

And Hinata breaks into a grin, feeling silly. Why hadn't she thought of this before?

She's allowed to be the first to confess, isn't she?

...

The plan is to find him before he leaves — in case something happens on his mission; though she doubts such a thing would, she'd like to at least tell him.

The plan is that she's going to ask him to have dinner with her. They'll prepare it at her home, where no one is around, and she'll confess right then.

That is the plan.

"Ah. Hinata, can you help me with this?"

Needless to say, things are not going Hinata's way this week.

...

Juugo and Karin have recently moved into a bigger home for the future of their children. It's a lovely house, with a pink door that Karin simply cannot stop talking about, and it is situated by one of Konoha's big strip malls, which is also something Karin cannot stop talking about.

Upon the day of their move, they both asked for the help of a few of their close and trusted friends. Naruto, of course, did not refuse, and he had been there at the crack of dawn before anyone else showed up. Suigetsu had come to help, as well, though he was more pleased with being the very last one to show up.

Hinata and Sasuke had also been asked to help, and by mid-morning, they were all busy with carrying in boxes and furniture and helping Karin unpack and put things in their needed spots around the house.

Eventually, Hinata finds herself in the room far in the back, where the sunlight has a direct path into the room from a large window. If she remembers correctly, Karin had told her this would be the child's room. She places down a few boxes, glancing around, thinking it would be a lovely room for a kid.

"Stalker." The door creaks as Sasuke pushes in a larger box, settling it in the direct path of sunlight flooding in. "Are you prone to snooping now, too?"

"Sasuke."

"How awful," he drones.

She grins at him. "I was just thinking. It's a nice house, isn't it?"

"Mn. I doubt Karin would accept anything else."

"It's just —" Suddenly, she feels shy. She doesn't know why. Nothing in the conversation changed. Sasuke didn't give her a particular look or anything of the sort, but her heart hums, and she feels warm. "It's just gotten me thinking, I suppose."

He must notice the shift in the air. His shoulders straighten as he regards her with an almost careful look.

"Spill it, Hinata," he tells her.

She thinks about it.

She thinks about how they're in a room. Both of them. How this room will one day be the room of a child.

In the future, she wonders, if this situation will happen again: her and Sasuke decorating a child's room.

"Children," she says, and Sasuke stops moving. "Do you want them?"

It's a stupid question.

She's sure he does. Unless he wants the Uchiha line to die with him, children are probably a standing goal for Sasuke.

But rather than answer her obvious question, he asks, "Do you?"

And that throws all embarrassment, all timidity, all uncertainty in the biting, winter-to-spring wind. It makes paranoia go on a four-month vacation. It makes trepidation forget its own name.

Hinata does not have to wonder, to make a vague guess based on situational clues and body language and context.

She knows where Sasuke Uchiha is leading this conversation, and there is no way she's letting this pass her.

So she gets to work.

She locks the door without a second thought and starts to drag the boxes over to push against it.

Sasuke stands in the middle of the room, watching her, confused.

"Lower your chakra level," she tells him, "and get in the closet."

His eyes widen. She thinks the whites of his eyes look like pearl.

He doesn't move, so she gently grabs his hand and pulls them both into the small closet filled with hangers and small, fabric bags. She shuts the door, and aside from the line of light from the door crack, they are in complete darkness. She activates her byakugan once, sees that everyone is still busy with moving, and smiles.

Alright.

This is happening.

She sighs, gathers her wits, deactivates her byakugan, lowers her chakra level until it's undetectable, and finds Sasuke's gaze through the dark.

"Okay," she says. "Go ahead."

"Go ahead," he repeats, like the words are in a foreign language.

She nods and waits, smile patient and a tad excited. Her heart is pounding. Her back is against the wall, and her pulse beats into the plaster. She wonders if Sasuke can hear it.

It's quiet, aside from vague voices far off in the house.

She waits a little longer. Sasuke's face does not change. He does not look nervous, which she thinks suits him rather well. Many things suit him. She pays a bit more attention to what he's wearing and recognizes the shirt with the mended collar — the one she had ripped.

Hinata nearly has the mind to rip it again, but stops herself.

She needs to be patient.

The seconds stretch on.

Now, Hinata's beginning to wonder.

"Sasuke?" she prompts.

His eyes narrow, just a bit. "I'll be honest with you, Hinata." His breath touches the bridge of her nose. "You've lost me."

Huh?

But he made it so clear.

She . . . hadn't been wrong, had she?

No!

Absolutely not! She saw it. He was like Shino. It was so painfully obvious!

But then . . . why wasn't he saying anything?

"O-Oh."

There's no way she was wrong. No way.

"Please feel free to explain."

Shame fills her mouth, and Hinata cannot speak. She just looks him in the eye, and she watches the pieces come together in his head. He looks at the closet, at the door shut tightly next to them. He reassesses the need for their lowered chakra levels, and when it all comes together, his eyes zone in on her once again.

"Hinata —"

She's suddenly extremely thirsty for sake. She leans forward and tips her head, and they're close, and they are all they can see.

"Aren't you —" Her heart beats wildly between them, "going to confess to me?"

He doesn't move away, but somehow, he shifts. He morphs. He changes.

"No," he says. He almost gasps it. Sasuke Uchiha is entirely shocked by her. "I —"

"No? " she repeats.

This is not something that she had considered — a rejection.

She didn't think she'd be put in this situation — not by him. When she thought about it and tried to rewrite history — if it had been him being attacked by Pein, and she had confessed to him out there on the battlefield — after everything, would he have ignored her like Naruto did?

She never considered he would.

Because he's Sasuke Uchiha. He does the opposite — he finds her. He searches for her.

He couldn't ignore her if he wanted to because she's the Hyuuga turned Stalker turned Hinata.

At one point in time, he fell for her. Was it when she threw the kunai at him in the streets of Konoha? Was it when he was wrapping her hands in bandages in a dark alleyway? Was it during their walk by the farms, when he had said "You need to find yourself a stalker" and she had said "Like you?"

Did it even matter?

He — he had definitely fallen for her.

So she never considered rejection.

She . . . .

"Do you want me to?" he asks.

And she almost screams in his face — "Yes! Of course! Isn't it obvious?"

Her heart is a drum in her head, pounding. Her brain feels light and heavy at the same time.

He still hasn't moved away. It's like he's pretending that the closet is getting smaller and smaller, and they're getting closer and closer.

His question repeats in her head. "Do you want me to?"

He's waiting. He's waiting patiently like she had been.

The door opens before her mouth can, and when sunlight spills in, she yelps and slams her back against the wall, making her shoulders ache with pain. She winces, and Sasuke blinks, moving closer to make sure she's alright.

"Ehhhh?" Naruto gives them both a look, scratching his head. "This is where you guys have been? What's with the closet?"

"Hinata," Sasuke says, "are you hurt?"

She's completely humiliated. She can't even look at his face. Her eyes find the window, where Naruto probably climbed through. She listens to him move the boxes away, laughing to himself, wondering what this is all about. Hinata scuttles out of the closet right as he opens the door, and Karin and Juugo walk in.

"Found them!" Naruto grins.

"We were looking for you," Juugo says.

Karin's eyes watch Sasuke walk out of the closet.

"They were in the closet, for some reason," Naruto explains. "It wasn't locked, so they weren't stuck."

Karin stares at Hinata, understanding, even a bit sympathetic.

Hinata wants to wither away. She tries her best to smile, thanks Naruto quietly, and leaves the room. She wants to get this moving thing done so she can leave as soon as possible.

The last thing she hears is Sasuke muttering, "I'm never doing you any more favors, Idiot."

…

He's perched on the post outside her house, next to her mailbox, the next morning. Her face hasn't recovered yet. It still looks like she's been sunburnt, or that hot soup had been thrown at her. And it only gets worse when she finds him there, dressed in his mission outfit, clearly waiting for her.

"I'm off," he tells her.

She only nods. She's lost her voice, too. She thinks she'd left it in the closet, lost in the fabric bags and sexual tension.

He hops down from the post, one foot in the street, one foot remaining on her property.

He says, "When I return, will you . . . ?"

He drifts off purposefully. It's a sentence not meant to be finished.

At first, she thinks it's because he wants her to figure it out on her own.

But then she sees his cocky, little smirk, and Hinata realizes it's because he's playing into the hands of the curse. Another interruption.

She marches to the mailbox, opening it, hoping there would be a paper inside for her to smack him with. It's empty, so she kicks him like he's a tree, and his snow falls all over her when he laughs and flickers away.

When Hinata goes inside, she looks at herself in the mirror and wonders if the grin will ever go away, too.