The second time that Hajime met Ninako, he was twelve years old.
It was the end of the first part of the winter chuunin exams. He didn't want to be there. He did not want to be there.
But Sai-sensei told Hajime that he had skill and that he believed in him.
Things his father never told him any more.
(His father, of course, wanted him to participate too. But Hajime didn't care about his opinion any more.)
His father had started paying attention to him again. And Takeru.
Takeru was there at the exams, too. Takeru wanted to be there.
Takeru was his father's favorite again.
Hajime tried not to care.
Caring made him angry.
He hated being angry.
But he couldn't help it.
The best he could do was to keep his heart and his body distant.
This hurt less.
He lived in his training. His painting.
Sai-sensei had noticed this, most strongly, after Nadeshiko.
Well.
"You are holding your brush far more tightly than normal today, Hajime-kun."
They were in the studio together.
"Is there something angering you?"
Sai-sensei had been bringing Hajime to the studio since he was eleven.
"I understand if you feel frustration over what happened. With your younger sister."
Ink skidded wetly across paper.
"I'm not angry," Hajime said.
Sai-sensei, with his paper-white skin and perpetual smile, tilted his head slightly and walked behind him.
"Do that again," he said.
"Do what."
"Put your anger on that paper again."
Anger in ink like a ribbon like a leash like blood out of an artery ripped over the neck of the lion-dog that Hajime had been working on.
Plain ink. He had to learn to perfect a form before using the chakra-enriched ink that Sai-sensei used for combat. This was training.
"I'm not angry," Hajime said.
"Do not think. Just paint what you are feeling."
"Sai-sensei…"
"Go on."
So he drew another line, without purpose or meaning, just being.
Another line.
Another.
The lion-dog had been perfect but Hajime didn't want.
That.
Perfect was his father's expectations and perfect was never enough and perfect was Takeru and perfect was.
(Ninako.)
Hajime was breathing heavily. Ink had gotten all over the table.
"That is anger," Sai-sensei said. "And that is the best work I have ever seen you do."
On the paper, Hajime had drawn a snake, black and violent and made of sharp not-snake angles. The snake had devoured the lion-dog, was digesting it.
"True art," Sai-sensei said, "is emotion given form. Not imitation. It took me years to learn what you have just done."
Sai-sensei was all about focus.
"Well done, Hajime-kun."
This was why Hajime was learning how to paint in the first place.
Because he had no focus, before. He was skilled in every area but he had no strength.
Sai-sensei gave him that.
Of course, his father disapproved.
"Art as combat? Pathetic."
But then.
His father disapproved of everything.
But Takeru.
Which was why Hajime did not want to be there.
Frankly, he wanted to drop out. Because he knew he'd just be compared.
Again.
There was no Nadeshiko to deflect from his mediocrity.
(He hadn't seen his sister in months, and would not see her again until her mother brought her home with careful hands the following New Year.)
But he held on. For Sai-sensei.
(Not his father.)
Because at least Sai-sensei believed in him.
(Because he no longer had those cloud-eyes and that fire-smile, that always-listening ear.)
So when he saw her there, with her sharp-cut hair and covered forehead and her eyes with long butterfly-wing lashes.
He didn't know what to say.
It had been two, almost three years.
(And those years had been harder for him to endure than anything he had ever experienced.)
(Mostly because of Nadeshiko.)
(Though he would never admit this to himself.)
(It really was harder to do things alone.)
(Though he had Sai-sensei.)
And during that time she had gotten taller.
(Like him.)
And also more beautiful.
(Like a woman.)
It was hard to swallow.
There she was.
She wasn't looking at him.
(Here, he couldn't tell if she really was.)
The Hokage Naruto was making a speech.
She was standing with her hands behind her back, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She was wearing black leggings and a sand-brown-sky-blue jacket.
She was smiling, smiling. But there was something missing in her smile.
(There had been something missing from Hajime, though he would never admit to himself.)
Hajime couldn't stop swallowing, even though his mouth felt dry. His stomach was doing snake-somersaults
The Hokage Naruto was done with his speech.
Sai-sensei in his all-black clothes and black eyes was smiling nearby, waiting, with his other classmates, Ayako and Oki.
Sai-sensei could wait.
(And his father wasn't there.)
"Ninako-chan!"
She turned around.
"Hajime?"
"Fuh-funny seeing you here, huh?"
He scratched the back of his head, awkwardly, like they did in the movies. For lack of a better action.
"Yeah, it's, uh, been a while," she said.
Her smile was strained, even he could see that.
"Yeah, it, uh, it has."
They were still the same height, he noticed. She had dirt on her face.
"Well, uh, I see you made it! In the chuunin exams, I mean. Good job!" she said.
"Yeah, uh, same to you! I guess."
There was a pause like a dull knife.
"So I'll see you during the tournament?" she said.
"Oh! Oh, uh, sure, yeah, that sounds… great."
She was smiling, smiling, but there was something missing in her smile.
Wow, so this was how he was going to reintroduce himself? And look like a huge freaking dork?
(She meant too much to him for him to keep acting this way.)
(But the way that she was looking at him that she was talking to him did she even care any more.)
"SO YOU WANNA HANG OUT SOMETIME?"
Why in the world was Hajime shouting.
Everyone stared at him. Even (especially) her.
"Um. Like. After. This, I… mean…"
Oh. Great.
He could see Takeru laughing.
(But he didn't see Naruto's smile paired with it.)
Why did he DO that?
"I'll… think about it," Ninako said. She smiled again, and waved. "Seeya, Hajime."
(What was that in her smile?)
Obviously she was just pitying him.
"Yeah… bye…"
Why did he do that why did he do that why did he.
"Very brave of you, Hajime-kun."
Sai-sensei was standing behind him.
"I do hope that she reciprocates."
"Can I go home, Sai-sensei? I kind of want to die."
"I do not think that dying would be a wise course of action, Hajime-kun. But I think that going home is. Come on, now."'
It was better than nothing.
Of course, Takeru had something to say on the matter, on the way home.
"So you got an explanation for that back there, Hajime?"
"Shut up, Takeru."
"Are you finally going through puberty, Hajime? Must be tough."
"Shut up, Takeru."
"I'm just saying. You're almost thirteen. Should be about now."
Hajime was trying not to think about how his voice had cracked. Horrifyingly.
"And you're eleven, what the heck do you know?" he replied.
"Enough." Takeru had a thin smile and it wore Hajime's patience very thin.
(Takeru had a hobby, and his hobby was stringing girls along. He found them useful sometimes.)
Hajime tried to stay out of the way for as long as he could.
The New Year came and went. They gave students the month of January off to train, because of the holiday. This made sense. There would be a tournament in February.
There was good food, he supposed. And Karai, whom he attended to. She was so small and so different from the life that he was supposed to lead that sometimes he couldn't help it. At least his father left him alone about it.
Though he'd feel stupid if he talked to Karai about his troubles. Well, stupider. She was two years old and, though she was very good at being quiet, he doubted she would even have any idea what he was talking about.
Didn't stop him from picking her up and hugging her sometimes. When things felt overwhelming.
Because she always hugged back. She called him Haa-nii. Honey.
For some reason, Hajime never felt nearly as close to Inou. Then again, Inou was always with their mother. He was a small and shivering boy and he preferred soft things and skirts to the legs of taller boys.
His foolishness still ate away at his stomach, however.
Until, one afternoon, a studying afternoon—he was practicing broader, looser, more intense brush strokes—there was a snowball thrown against his window.
He let it pass.
Then another.
With the third snowball he finally went to the window and opened it. "Will you stop—Ninako-chan?"
"Hey, I finally got your attention!" Her smile was covered by her breath. It was a cold day.
"What are you doing here?"
"Well, I thought about it! And, y'know, I'd like to hang out sometime!" She was yelling.
"Shh, be quiet, someone's gonna hear! Hold on, I'll be right down!"
"Okay, cool! I'll meet you at the gate!"
Hajime had to take a moment to compose himself after closing the window.
Sitting on his bed. His legs wouldn't stop moving. He ran his fingers through his bangs.
Oh holy crap.
Why in the world was he smiling this was no time to smile his heart was beating oh he was so going to die.
He managed.
To get himself together, and put on his coat. A black coat. A sensible coat. Because he was a sensible young man, you see.
(He had been favoring black for quite a time, and well-tailored clothes. Sai-sensei was rubbing off on him, he supposed.)
(Either that or he just didn't want to look like his father.)
(Or Takeru.)
"What are you doing here?" he asked Ninako, again, at the gate. "And how did you get into the front yard, anyways?"
"I used the gate, duh, are you stupid?" she laughed.
And with just that laugh she completely wrecked him. The façade crumbled.
"But you're not—how did you know where my room was, anyways?"
She was still laughing. "Have you honestly forgotten? I'm a freakin' Hyuuga, dude. I can see through anything. And I saw you in your room. What were you painting in there, anyways?"
"I was… training."
"Training? Get out of here."
"No, really, it's—why do you even care, you still haven't answered my question!"
"What question?"
"Why are you here?"
"'cos I wanted to see you, that's why." Her smile made it feel like the middle of spring. "It's been way too long, and since everyone's pretty much on vacation right now, I… thought I'd stop by."
"…are you serious?"
"Of course I'm serious, Hajime. I really miss you."
It was cold and that coldness made his teeth hurt when he smiled.
Hey, Mom?
Yeah, hon?
I'm gonna be heading out for a bit.
Oh, where are you going?
"So where you wanna go?" he asked Ninako.
"Anywhere's fine."
For a walk or something, I'll be back before dinner, okay?
Okay, honey, take care of yourself.
"Then let's go. Your… favorite food's still taiyaki… right?"
She put her arm around his shoulder and squeezed him. "Come on, I haven't changed that much."
(Feeling an enormous relief that, oh wonder of wonders, he really did remember stupid stuff like that.)
(She felt like she was going to swallow her heart when he had said those things, a few days back. And her heart was big and it was hot and it made her words come slowly and clumsily.)
(She was glad to have him back.)
"So what's been going on with you?" he asked. They were sitting on a park bench together. They had to brush the snow off of the seat before sitting down.
"Training. Lots of training. When I'm not out with Genyo-sensei it's me an' Dad practicing Gentle Fist. But it's fun, I guess."
"Oh, yeah, sure," Hajime said. "Must keep you busy."
"Busy, yeah. But that's no excuse for me not to seek you out, that's kind of dumb of me."
"No, no, don't… say that. I'm just as much at fault," Hajime said. "There was nothing stopping me from… I dunno, stopping by your house and seeing if you were available."
"Hm."
They ate, for a while.
"You been okay too, Hajime? How's your sensei?"
"Oh, Sai-sensei? He's… cool. He's taught me a lot."
"Like that painting technique?"
"Yeah."
"That sounds wicked, you'll have to show me how it works sometime."
"Oh, sure. I mean, I'm nothing compared to him but he says I do a good job."
"Maybe I'll get to see it at the tournament. First-hand. It's been ages since we've sparred."
Hajime's hands tightened around his taiyaki. "Oh, uh. Sure, I mean… oh, jeez."
He didn't want to fight her. Anyone else.
(Maybe (especially) Takeru.)
But not her.
"…oh, I… probably shouldn't have said that."
"…it's okay…"
She put her hands, her half-eaten taiyaki in her lap. "No, really. I, uh. I heard about what happened. With your sister."
(Black hair and red blood and Hajime had no idea that people could fight like that.)
"…I get it if you don't wanna talk about it. It's kind of, uh… Never mind. I'm sorry. Forget I said anything."
Silence and snow.
And.
Hajime put his hand on her wrist.
"Actually, um."
He kept his head down.
"…I kinda… do want to talk about it. Because Sai-sensei, he… well, he's nice, and he helps me out with just about everything else these days, but… He kind of… doesn't get some things."
"…like what?"
His hand was on her wrist.
"He talks about emotion and… stuff like he just kind of barely understands how it works. He gets people but he doesn't get them."
"Uh-huh."
"So… heck, I haven't… really had anyone to talk to. I mean, it's not like I can talk to my dad about this, and my mom…"
She pulled her arm away from his hand.
And held his hand in hers, her fingers in his palm.
"Then why don't you tell me what's on your mind?"
They talked for hours.
Their fathers were not pleased to find out where they had been.
Such relationships were acceptable as children, but.
Hajime and Ninako were getting to be of An Age.
Sasuke did not approve of the idea of his firstborn son ending up with a Hyuuga. One of Konoha's old clans. Old power. He hated old power.
Frankly, he didn't want his children associating with anyone he did not approve of. And Sasuke did not approve of many people.
And barring the fact that the Uchiha clan was only a shade of their former glory and worthy of only that much respect.
Hyuugas only married Hyuugas.
Only Hyuugas.
Hajime had no idea how his father had even found out.
Probably Takeru. He was too smart for his own good. And he probably remembered that—dumb thing he had said. To her. Then.
(Much as Hajime hated admitting it, yes, Takeru really was more intelligent than him.)
(Ninako had been discovered by a passing Branch member, seeing her on the bench with that boy.)
"It's the New Year, Hajime. You're supposed to be spending time with your family. Not cavorting around with girls."
("Ninako, you can't just leave the house whenever you please any more. You have duties.")
"Dad, we just… talked."
("Screw duties, I just wanted to talk to him again!")
"No excuses. I'm fine if you're in that… studio with your sensei. That's 'training,' isn't it?"
The way he said it, Hajime could hear the quotation marks around the word.
He didn't say anything.
"From now on, you tell me when you're going somewhere, where you are going, and who you're going to be with."
("Ninako, I know. But you can't do these things any more. I… really wish that you could, but the clan head doesn't feel the same way I do.")
"And what if I can't find you."
"You tell your mother."
(Or Takeru would tell him.)
"Okay," Hajime said.
("Screw her," Ninako said softly.)
Perhaps that was one of the first indications that what they had was.
Well.
There was a word for it somewhere.
Because, obviously, they didn't let that stop them.
Ninako got very good at sneaking out of the house.
And so did Hajime.
They tried to spend at least their weekends together, in that January pause.
And when the actual tournament rolled around, things went.
Well.
Hajime didn't get to fight Takeru, finding himself overwhelmed by a Cloud ninja with a strange and incredible static barrier that shredded his paper and ink and made every hair stand on end.
But everyone saw his art. He had been practicing.
"A thing of beauty," Sai-sensei told him, after he walked off of the arena with ink burned onto his arms. "It was a marvel to watch. You fought very well. I would even consider it a victory for art."
"Thanks, Sai-sensei," Hajime said, almost laughing.
Trying to avoid his father's eyes.
Hajime's static-armed foe was bested by Takeru. It figured.
(Hajime almost, almost got to fight him. Oh, to have been able to do that.)
(Even if he'd ultimately lose.)
(As much as he hated to admit it, Takeru was stronger than him, too.)
(But anything to smash that smile off of his face.)
Takeru, ultimately had to battle Ninako.
He won, again.
It figured.
At least this made his father happy. Overwhelmingly so.
Hajime just stayed out of the way and took comfort in the lack of criticism.
The judges deliberated and, the week after the tournament concluded, the chuunin candidates were announced.
There were many, that year. And among them were, indeed, Takeru, and Hajime, and Ninako.
Yes, this pleased his father. And his mother insisted on throwing them all a party, to which his father begrudgingly agreed.
It was nice. Though Hajime's mind was elsewhere.
(It seemed Ninako's was as well.)
At 11 PM, there was a snowball on his window.
"Ninako, what are you doing here?" Hajime said, again.
"Put on some clothes, we're gonna go celebrate!" she whispered. Her voice cut through the air with a loud hiss.
"N-now? But it's late!"
"Exactly! C'mon, let's get outta here!"
"Okay, okay, just hold on!"
Hajime got on his coat and his white scarf.
He had gotten very good at sneaking out of the house in the month since he and Ninako had found each other again.
He was a ninja, after all.
Her cheeks had turned slightly red from the cold, from her waiting.
"So where do you want to go?" he asked, again.
"Anywhere's fine," she said, again.
So they went somewhere. Anywhere.
And they celebrated with warm food from whatever stands were still open at that hour—which weren't many—and hot cocoa from vending machines—those were always around, anyways—and laughter and talking.
"So at least that's out of the way!" Ninako said.
"What is?"
"The whole chuunin thing. I guess we're home free 'til we're jounin, right?"
Hajime shrugged. He had gotten his cocoa plain, hers with whipped cream.
"Also, for the record? Your little brother fights dirty. I'm still sore."
His fingers tightened around his cup. "…I'm sorry."
She nudged him. His cocoa sloshed around dangerously in its paper cup. "Why are you apologizing? Not your fault he's a jerk."
"…you really think so?"
"I know so."
He felt a warmth in his chest and he was pretty sure it wasn't from the hot drinks.
Time passed. It got very late.
And then Ninako got a headache.
It was a bad one, causing her to drop her cup. Foamy barely-cocoa spilled out onto the snow.
"Oh. Crap. Cra-ap, crap, ow, ow, owww…!"
Hajime shifted his cup to one hand and reached the other out to her. "Ninako, what's the matter…?"
"Nothing, nothing, nothing, I just, I have to go now, I'm sorry, I stayed out too long."
Her eyes were tightly, tightly closed. Hajime's heart was squeezed just as tightly.
"No, Ninako, are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"No, no, seriously, I—augh…! I told them I was going out for karaoke with my teammates but they must have found out I was with you instead or something…!"
"They…?"
"My stupid family!" She began walking away. "I'm sorry, Hajime, I… I gotta go…!"
He followed. "Ninako, please, what's going on?"
"I'll tell you later! But right now I gotta go!"
And she went.
Leaving him alone.
He threw the rest of his cocoa away and, quietly, snuck back into his house. Nobody woke up.
Hajime was very good at what he did.
The next time he saw Ninako—which was the day after the day after—she wore an expression of anxious hurt. Her eyes were restless.
"You okay?" he asked, once they were alone.
"…Hajime, can you keep a secret?" she said.
"…sure, I think I can," he said.
"You think you can or you know you can?"
"I… know I can." He nodded. "What is it?"
She looked around, needlessly. Something was wrong.
"Follow me," she said. So he did.
She took him to a photo booth, and closed the curtain behind them.
And she took the band off of her forehead.
"…Ninako, what is that…?"
It was green and it was faint and it.
"You just… sounded so worried about when I had to leave so suddenly, that I… I felt it was only fair that I told you…"
(It had been three years since that day, under the tree.)
She kept her eyes to her knees.
(With her head and her sobbing shoulders and arms that struggled to fit in place.)
"It's a cursed seal. I've had it for three years."
She told him everything in that photo booth, their knees and their thighs touching each other on the little seat.
About how sudden it had been. She hadn't been told in advance.
How painful it had been when Hanabi, the head of the clan, burned it there, with no compassion in her eyes.
How, when she died, it would do horrible things to her beautiful eyes. For the sake of the clan.
He had never felt such anger in his life.
"But why would they do something like that to you?" he said, trying not to scream. His voice cracked. "Ninako, that's unfair!"
"I know," she said.
"They shouldn't do things like that to—to anyone! Ninako, seriously…!"
"I know, Hajime," she said.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because I'm not supposed to. These things… aren't really supposed to leave clan walls."
She closed her eyes and her lashes pressed against her cheeks and flared out sideways, like the wings of a swallowtail.
"…and I didn't want to worry you."
"Worry me? Ninako…"
"No, seriously, Hajime. This… this is just how my clan is. I got used to it. Well. I'm getting used to it. 'cos there's nothing I can do."
"But Ninako-"
"So I didn't want to get you all tangled up in that 'cos I knew you couldn't do anything to change that, okay? That's why I never talked about it."
She opened her eyes and the smile that was paired with them was reluctant and sad.
"Plus, honestly, you need the help and stuff more than me. Mostly 'cos you can do something about half the stuff that happens at your house… So I gotta be strong for you, you know?"
Hajime took a big breath in and he tried to keep his mouth closed, because he had no idea what would have come out of it if he didn't.
He hugged her instead.
"H-hey, what's the big deal?" she said. Her shoulders narrowed from his arms squeezing hers.
"You don't have to worry about me worrying about you! Or whatever!" he blurted. The words were hot and airy and sudden. "And you don't have to worry about being strong! Just… be yourself! And tell me when stuff's bothering you! Okay?"
Strangely.
She started laughing.
"Ha-Hajime, what are you… doing…!"
He let go of her and tried to scowl. Tried, and failed, pretty miserably.
"Just… don't worry about that stuff. Okay? I tell you stuff, so… it's only fair that you get to tell me stuff. And stuff. Yeah."
She was still laughing as she put her headband back on, and she leaned in and pressed her forehead against his temple, putting her arm around his shoulder.
"That's what you want?"
"Yeah." A pause. "Well, and… we should be more careful from here on out. I don't want your head to hurt like that ever again, Ninako, that's just wrong."
She closed her eyes. "Okay," she said.
The photo-booth was surprisingly warm from their own heat and breath, despite the winter, and the meager curtain keeping the cold out.
"…so, that one afternoon, after you were gone from school for a week."
"Hm?" She pulled her head away.
"Is it cos they… they were doing that to you?"
Oh. That day.
"…yeah. I didn't want to go to school."
"…I don't blame you," Hajime said.
Ninako had separated herself from him entirely, now, and put her hands on her knees. She was not wearing mittens, preferring the pockets of her coat.
"…but, you remember what you told me? How you… wished you'd never been born?"
She really had wished that.
(And sometimes, when things at home got really bad, she still did.)
"I'm still glad you were born, Ninako. It's true. I mean, sometimes I wish you'd been born into a different family, or I'd been… born into a different family, or whatever, so you wouldn't have to get hurt like this, but… I'm just glad you're here, anyways."
Hajime was resting his head on her shoulder.
"…me too, Hajime."
She rested her head on his.
(There was something like love that Ninako felt that night.)
(And Hajime felt it, too. Though he didn't have a name for it, at the time.)
Though nothing that strongly was felt between them again for quite some time.
The years passed with sneaking-out like clockwork and shared lunches and laughter and sometimes-cheerful-sometimes-hateful commiseration. True to her word, Ninako finally began opening up about the things that went on within the clan that frustrated her so.
A typical lunchtime conversation:
"Can you believe it? I got another bloodline superiority whatever speech yesterday from Hanabi-sama."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! Bitter old hag. 'The Hyuuga clan must always exhibit the most admirable qualities, the Hyuuga clan must always strive for perfection,' blah blah blah shut up."
"Pfft. Sounds like my dad."
"I know, right?"
"Hey, you think he should have married her instead of my mom? I mean, it sounds like they'd get along enough over that."
"Well if he had done that then we'd be cousins or something, and that'd be just gross, man. I'll take the current you, thank you very much. Besides," she added, carefully, "I get the feeling that Hanabi-sama wouldn't go for a non-Hyuuga."
"Yeah," Hajime said, "and I get the feeling that my dad wouldn't go for a Hyuuga."
"But you got a thing for me, dontcha."
Hajime didn't answer.
(Oh, yes, was Ninako ever so grateful to resume her most favorite hobby.)
(Even before she meant any of it seriously.)
Hajime could keep secrets. She trusted him.
(Though some things never left clan walls in any circumstance.)
It was curious, too, how quickly they were promoted from chuunin to jounin within those two years. Ninako first.
Well, technically, Takeru first. But it couldn't be helped.
(A question: How does one sneak out of a compound belonging to a clan that can see through any substance?)
(The answer: Very, very carefully.)
Their skill was literally unheard of. But recognized all the same.
And it was only after the jounin promotions, after the pressure lifted, after they had gone as high as they could go that.
Well.
Their minds finally had room for.
Other priorities.
"So I got. Um. Dinner reservations," Hajime, fourteen, almost fifteen years old, announced. "For the day after my birthday. For you and me. So yeah."
"Hajime," Ninako, barely, barely fifteen, replied, "is this a date?"
(Uh.)
(Crap.)
"No," Hajime replied, "it's not. I just wanted to do something actually fun for my birthday 'cos. Um. My family won't let me do anything really fun. Naturally."
Ninako's heart-mouth spread widely. "When and where, then?"
The not-date proceeded.
Well.
There was a great deal of staring and a great deal of not-eating.
Hajime made.
Attempts.
At conversation.
"You look… nice."
"Uh… thanks."
Well, she did look nice, he felt. She was wearing little pearls in her ears and lip gloss.
(And she had tried to look nice, actually. Just in case it really was, well.)
(Though she wondered if it wasn't. Maybe it wasn't. Just in case.)
"Do you, uh. Like your food?"
"Yeah, it… it tastes good."
She fumbled with her fork.
Hajime took another sip of water. It was his third glass that night.
Funnily enough.
Ninako was the one that spoke up first.
Just barely.
"Look, Hajime-"
"Ninako, I-"
An awkward silence as they decided what to do next.
"Uh, you first…" Hajime said.
"Oh, uh, sure."
She tapped the fingers of both hands on the table and sucked on her lips.
"Look, I'm… I'm really sorry, I'm making this, like, super awkward," she finally said.
"No! No, no, you're not, you're totally fine, seriously…" Hajime replied. Awkwardly.
"No, I'm… not."
She swallowed.
"Listen, Hajime, I..." She breathed in, and out. "Okay, so, you know how you always tell me to—tell you whenever something's bothering me?"
"Well, yeah, of cour—oh, no, I'm not bothering you, am I?" Hajime's palms attached themselves to his forehead. "Oh, jeez, I knew this was a bad idea…"
"Hajime, Hajime, no, it's not that!" she said. "It's, it's… kind of nothing to do with you. It's my fault."
"Oh, really…"
"Y-yeah, really." She swallowed. "Um. Well, see… I've been… teasing you a lot about how you, like. Well you're pretty much my best friend, man. Uncontested. And I keep on, like, making fun of you like you're my… boyfriend or… something…"
His hands slowly, slowly fell. "…yeah…?"
"And, I mean, it's all in good fun, right? You know we're just friends and stuff." Her voice was unusually high.
"…y-yeah, just… friends."
Hajime's head was tilted just slightly and he seemed suddenly very interested in the edge of his plate.
"…well, see, the truth is. I like you, Hajime. I really like you. Like. Really really. And I just… for the longest time, I thought it was wrong 'cos, y'know, you're my best friend, and that's kinda… well wrong, innit? I mean, just 'cos you're a boy and I'm a girl doesn't mean we have to date, but…"
Hajime was still staring at his plate.
"…I can't help it, Hajime. I mean, you're… you're what I think of when I fall asleep at night."
And she suddenly breathed in and said something that sounded like "Eek!" and she covered her mouth and.
"…oh, great, now you think I'm a huge creep don't you oh Hajime I'm sorry, just… just forget I said that."
But this time, it was Hajime that was laughing. And it was a strange laughter, because he was not used to it.
"…y-you know, uh. I'm. I'm the… same way," he finally managed.
"…are you serious?"
"As a… heart attack. I'm… always thinking about you, Ninako."
Light and gasp-like laughter was coming out of Ninako, finally. "Oh, man, I can't believe this…"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, like… I thought it was just all in my head, really. For the longest time. I didn't think you'd ever get past, or, or want to get past, well, the whole friend thing. I mean, knowing you…"
"What do you mean, 'knowing me'?" Hajime was trying to frown. Trying.
Her laughter gained strength. She could barely speak. "Well, it's just… you seemed so focused on us being just friends for the longest time and stuff!"
"I was just doing that 'cos I didn't want you to get creeped out and stop being my friend or whatever if you weren't… interested!"
She was holding her stomach. "Hajime, what the heck! There's no way you'd ever be able to creep me out…"
"Well you're the one that actually told me that you wanted to be just friends just now!"
"I did not!"
"Yeah you did!"
"Well I'm not saying it now! Are you?"
"No!"
"Well… well good!"
They just laughed, after that. People noticed, and stared.
(Though nobody that could have gotten them into trouble.)
Not like either of them cared.
"So… what the heck do we do, then?" Ninako said, when they were leaving, not bothering to take their barely-eaten leftovers with them. "Do we, like… hold hands or something?"
"Oh, gosh, are we supposed to?"
"I dunno, I've never dated anyone before!"
"Yeah, well, neither have—oh man we're dating, aren't we!" Hajime's eyes got suddenly very wide.
And Ninako just started laughing, all over again. "Yep. Yep! I guess we are."
"…so, uh. Does that mean I should. Call you my. Guh. Girlfreh…"
"You can call me," Ninako said, "whatever you want, Hajime. 'Girlfriend' included. But… I'll settle for 'soul mate' or 'darling sugar princess' if you're uncomfortable with that for now."
"Ninako…"
"I'm serious. Boyfriend."
He didn't respond, that time, but oh goodness did his smile make her smile.
They only lightly laced their fingers into each other, palms barely touching, as he walked her home.
In case someone saw, so it'd be easy to pull them apart.
There was a sort of unspoken understanding between the two of them that.
Well.
They got the feeling that neither of their families would approve.
But they would learn to be careful.
They had learned to be careful with everything else.
They didn't attempt anything resembling a kiss for two or three more dates.
Yeah, they were dates. Even if Hajime had a hard time believing it.
(And, frankly, Ninako did, too, though she had an easier time of hiding her joyful skepticism.)
When they did finally work up the courage, the results were laughable.
Literally.
Ninako began giggling and had to pull herself away from his face.
"What's wrong, did I do something wrong?" Hajime said.
"Your… face…!"
"My face?"
"You look so stupid!"
"W-wait, you're supposed to… to do it with your eyes open?"
"I have a Byakugan, duh!" She could barely breathe. "You had your eyes closed so tight, it was adorable…!"
"St-stop it, okay?"
They eventually got it right.
That was the way things were, with them. Long stretches of contentment and satisfaction punctuated by intensely awkward readjustments.
When they made the decision to try having sex when they were eighteen, nineteen years old, for example. After several make-out sessions began going a little too far, in their collective opinions, and they took the time aside to talk about it. Like adults. Naturally.
They didn't want to risk anything. Even though they were just doing it with, well. Each other.
(And Ninako had other fears. She wasn't ignorant.)
(Hyuugas only married Hyuugas to produce more Hyuugas.)
(Besides, she was too young to deal with that.)
Ninako had to buy the condoms because Hajime felt too awkward about doing it himself.
Naturally, she didn't let him hear the end of it.
After they managed to, uh.
Figure it out, naturally.
In a hotel room, because they couldn't risk anywhere else:
"We can… stick to just making out for a while, yeah?"
"Yeah, that sounds cool."
"Yeah."
"Awesome."
"…you're adorable, you know that?"
"Ninako."
It was around that time, coincidentally, that they came to be put on the Seal Team, along with Sakari and Jimichi. They'd been brought into Naruto's office with the other two and told the news personally.
Of course, Hajime's face betrayed no excitement, just a calm, stoic, proper expression of thankfulness. Ninako, at least, was grinning.
Afterwards, once they were properly alone, they wrapped themselves in each other and did not let go for the longest time.
It was a bit of a miracle. They almost couldn't believe their luck.
They had an excuse to be together. A legitimate one. They didn't need to sneak out any more.
(Not that their new job would stop them from the occasional jaunt out, but.)
How this had come to happen, neither of them knew, and neither of them cared to find out. They were just happy to finally have it.
(But within the walls of the Hyuuga compound, there lived a woman with a gentle smile and a purple heart that held many secrets, and knew many more. She wielded her influence like a needle, carefully and almost invisibly.)
(Having a dear friend in the Hokage surely didn't hurt at all, either.)
There were, as it happened, a great deal of benefits that came with their involvement in the Seal Team.
Of course there was the excuse to be together, that was obvious.
There was also the fact that their work had them out of the city and oftentimes the country, which afforded them far more privacy to do what they wished when they were off-duty.
Though it did take them a while to get comfortable with the idea of being at all romantic around Sakari and Jimichi. For the longest time they carried on with extreme discretion, getting closer to their teammates in the meantime.
Hajime actually felt relieved to find himself becoming friends with Jimichi. He did not get along well with most other young men his age. Then again, Hajime didn't get along well with many people, preferring to only expend a minimal amount of emotional effort in dealing with others if he could help it.
This worked well with his family. Not so much outside of it. Though he hadn't noticed so much because, well, he had Ninako, and Sai-sensei. And that had been enough for him, for a while.
Jimichi, who was just… normal, was a nice addition to all of that. It made him more sociable. Better-adjusted. At least, Hajime felt so.
Though when Jimichi himself said, "Man, Hajime-san, you're a lot nicer than I thought you would be," when they were out sharing drinks during a mission, Sakari and Ninako off elsewhere (Sakari had… issues with alcohol). Hajime found himself caught off-guard.
"How do you mean."
"Well, you're just so… stoic, Hajime-san. If you don't mind me saying."
"Stoic."
"I mean… Sort of unapproachable, I guess? A… a man of few words, that's what I mean."
"Oh."
Hajime took a sip of his beer.
"Then," he said, "I'm glad you feel that way."
A pause.
"About me being nice, I think. Not being, uh. Stoic. I should probably work on that."
Jimichi laughed, at that.
They talked a lot more, after that.
It became somewhat apparent, after that, too, that apparently he and Ninako weren't being as discrete as they'd thought they were being.
Sakari had a bad habit of "forgetting" things.
Like tents.
"Looks like two of us are gonna have to share! Oh, silly me." She had a giggle like bubblegum. "Hajime, Ninako, you don't mind at all, do you? Because I don't want to have to share a tent with Jimichi-kun."
"No," Ninako said, speaking for the both of them, "I think that's just fine."
"You think they're onto us?" Hajime asked, from between her arms, that particular night.
"Ju-ust a bit," Ninako replied.
They never really thought of bringing it up, after that point, given how clear it was that their teammates were accepting of their relationship.
(Especially, silently, Sakari. Her father's connection to the Hyuuga clan through his most beloved brother in arms, in so many words, Neji, afforded her a very painful insight into the lives of the Hyuuga, and Ninako in particular.)
(And very little needed to be said about the connections she had on her mother's side. In the phone calls her mother sometimes received that went on for far too long and yet always seemed to end so abruptly.)
(And, by golly, she had her papa's heart, and she wanted all of her friends to have happy endings. Especially those two.)
(So she was always the one scheming for ways to improve their happiness.)
They still kept up the façade, when things needed to get serious. Their job came before their emotions, after all.
But this full and distant and understanding-ness made things more comfortable otherwise. Much more comfortable.
Their corner of the world was a small one, but it was all they had.
And so, they continued on, living for each other, away from everything else.
(Unaware of how breakable everything really was.)
(And how quickly a crack in the glass was growing.)