My eyes flutter open. Heavy eyelids are slowly lifted only to reveal the same darkness as when it's shut close.

I blink.

One..two..three..

It's still black. Black. Not even a dot of light could be seen anywhere. The frown between my brows just grows deeper as I keep trying to focus my sight at whatever might exist in front of my vision, yet there's still nothing but black. Emptiness. At this point my brain begins to doubt if my eyes are really open or if it's just my half-consciousness playing tricks on me. And I'm in a complete daze.

But the weight pushing down my eyelids and the inconvenience of trying to push them open just prove me otherwise. And the stirring nausea from the pit of my stomach starts messing my inside out, making me squirm in discomfort.

I'm still trying to blink again and again, albeit how hard it is to keep them open. But I know for sure, they are moving. My eyes are open. Yet, there's nothing. There's really nothing to see.

I try to lift my fingers–something that should have been done effortlessly–now becomes some sort of a distress. My body feels so heavy like there's some weight pushing me down and keeping me in place. All my muscles and bones feel like a heap of rusty machines that've been abandoned for years. It almost feels impossible to even lift a hand. Heck, I'm not even sure if I can feel any part of my body at all. It's like I'm trapped right in the line between my awakening and trance. Almost so numb yet there's prickles under the taut my skin.

With the sheer strength I try to gather, I brush my fingertips on what feels like silky fabric where I lay on top of, slowly grasping on it to focus my strength on both my palms.

Fist.

Unfist.

Fist.

Unfist.

Doing it on repeat while feeling each contraction and relaxation of my muscles. Until drop by drop of energy slowly yet steadily flows into my limp body to give them life again.

My mind is too focused to gain my strength back that I didn't even realize the constant swaying of my body until there's a sudden jolt like we bump into something. It's…moving. Not practically my body, but the thing where I lay right now is moving.

Whatever and wherever I am, one thing for sure, it's moving.

I slowly try to lift my arm but soon–even though it's not even stretched an arm length yet–it bumps into something solid. Clammy palms graze on my side then drag up to my front.

Huh? A wall? But the surface is covered with soft fabric and the more I run my palms up and down to map this object, my fingertips brush onto something that feels like petals and leaves.

My brain tries to digest this state I'm in right now and what I can come up with is…I'm in a box, or sort of thing. I'm definitely inside something cramped. Confined. Trapped. Without even a tiny dot of light could be seen no matter how wide I open my eyes. I can't even stretch my arms and feet freely without them bumping into this confinement.

My mind is already running wild to make sense of how in the world I could end up here. The constant banging of my brain being forced to think makes my head hurt. It throbs so heavily I can even feel the pulsing of my veins and the ache that always follows each surge.

Everything breaks into chaos. And the next thing I know…I already panicked.

My breath has become so quick and shallow. Every deep inhale is cut by the shaky exhale that always follows too soon and impatient. The quickening of my heartbeat has escalated rapidly and it's literally driving me crazy how it drums on my ears, deafening, blaring with no mercy.

My fists hastily punch on the surface in front of me as I try so hard to ignore the stinging pain around my ribs. Loud banging noises gallop with the echoes of my raging chest. Bam! Bam! Bam! While the infinite blankness I could only see doesn't do anything good either. I feel the burning on my eyes as something wet starts trekking down my face, yet I can't even see the blurring of my sight when tears already brimming in the pocket of my eyelids.

"H-Help!" My voice creaks, trembling and raspy. Both lips quiver as they fall open and gasping for air.

"Please open!" I yell louder, squeezing the voice out of my lungs. Yet it still doesn't open. It's locked. It's really locked with me trapped inside, breathless, gaping, and desperate. "Anyone! Please open! I'm here!"

If only a while ago all my limbs felt numb and lifeless, now my hands hurt and swollen due to the non stop punching on the surface in front of me. My feet keep kicking in a forceful rampant. My lungs burn, both from the lack of oxygen and the force I put into shouting so miserably. But I couldn't care less because all I can think is to break free from this place. From this darkness swallowing my body whole. From this confinement of what seems to be a nightmare…or hell.

"Help! I can't breathe!" I choke on my words as cries start breaking from my little mouth.

'Starting this day…you are dead.'

My head shakes erratically as I cover my ears from the faint whispers in the back of my mind.

'Didn't you say you love your mom? You'll join her soon enough.'

No no no no no! I don't want to!

"Help! Please somebody! He–help…or I…will…"

'You're dead.'

"...die…"

Gasp!

My body jumps like there was an electric shock shot right to me. Crumply white sheets greet my hazy vision, making my eyes scrutinize by its blinding light. A complete flip from the pitch black world haunting me just seconds ago.

Things seem so lost in a glitch, jumpy objects vibrate in my wake, as my hands grip tightly on the soft blanket covering my breathless, sweating body.

In between my heaving body, my eyes look up to map where I am right now. Neat room with soft yet elegant interior. All look shiny as if they've never been touched before, kissed softly by the warm sun rays filtered through the curtains. At least, there's no same darkness as I saw deep inside my trance. No emptiness drowning my vision. No confinement trapping me inside. I can breathe. I can breathe.

My chest begins to harbor better breathing. It's getting steady and comfortable, until my eyes land on the man sitting from across the room. Legs crossed with a tea cup secured on his hand.

He notices my wake, face still as placid as I remember only last night he's ever shown me this side of him. A soft clack breaks our silence when he puts down his cup above the tea table in front of him. Blue eyes holding a thousand words I could never foretell meet my stoic ones.

The longer I keep my eyes locked with his, the more my lungs are gripped inside my chest; sending again those unpleasant feelings as memories begin to unravel themself inside my head…of how those blue eyes I adored so much have sent the demise of what I once believed.

Or rather…what I have tried to believe. Naruto.

He made me want to believe again, to give him chances to enter my secluded world. To place my trust on him, to those beautiful blue eyes, to those smiles that bloomed everytime my eyes landed upon him, to those affectionate caresses he graced upon my skin, and to the heavens he'd taken me every time we spent the night together.

I wanted to believe him. I really did.

Yet…look at me now.

Miserable.

Stupid.

Dragged back to the hell I've been running away from for years. It's as if I've just been running in circles because I got back to exactly where I started. Right after I'd just convinced myself to let go of those haunting past.

Thought I've been careful, yet it becomes the nasty derision of my own loss.

"Feel better?"

Better? What kind of fucked insult?

"Was everything just a…lie?" I don't heed what he just asked me then jumping right away to pronounce the big question mark jostling inside my head.

"What?"

"Everything. Everything we've been through together."

"I never lied, Hinata." His face is solemn. Eyes piercing deep through me. "You told me how you'd been genuine this whole time. I believed it. And I did just the same. I never lied. Everything I said, everything I did, they all come from the very deep of my heart."

I look right into his eyes. Lips pressed shut. Everything that happened last night still fogs thickly in my mind. In my defense, I still refuse to believe that it actually happened–meeting that man again after all these years spent running away. If dooms day were to really exist, I'd been living in convincement that it's the day our paths collide again. And it did, really. Despite my denial mind trying to refuse reality, but the awakening of the nightmare that had been haunting me in the past isn't something I can refute. Every second it entailed, every drop of darkness it enveloped me with, every thorn I breath into my lungs; all those things are too real to be just a mere dream. If my mind is too convinced to deny it all, but the pain I felt physically contradicts everything.

And how am I supposed to believe in his sincerity when it cost me the biggest fear in my life?

But…despite all the thoughts jostling inside my head telling me not to believe his confession…then why…why can I see the clear gleam deep from the abyss of his ocean irises?

"Then…what do you want, exactly?"

"I can ask you the same thing." He leans back, folding his arms across his chest while still looking at me with that inexplicable expression. "Have you ever lied to me?"

"I don't have one. Two moms, no dad."

I close my eyes, a deep sigh escapes from my slightly parted lips.

Seconds get dragged as I feel so lost of words. When it becomes too heavy just to keep my eyes on him, my sight drops onto my gripping fist.

"Just like you said," he takes a pause and I still can't bring myself to look at him again, "we haven't really known each other yet."

I can feel the deep stare he keeps at me, waiting for my answer locked in the pit of my throat.

"Remember when I said I'd make things clear between us? Last night was my attempt. Though, to be fairly honest, I never expected to see such reaction."

"You planned…everything?" my voice rises, my eyes snap up at him just as soon as the question leaves my lips. A deep frown drawn between my brows, hardly believing what I just heard. "You–you really did…everything? Why? The meeting, those people you invited, and how you brought me to meet them…? You…all of them? Why?!"

And I hate how my voice cracked. I hate how it betrayed me. But, I hate myself more for making up the thoughts of him possibly having an explanation over everything that happened.

How utterly, stupidly ludicrous.

"Why…to that extent? Like–ah shit–" I bit my lower lips. Words fail me. Even my brain can hardly make anything coherent to say. He already expected something would happen when I meet a certain someone among those people. So…does he know something? Something that no one should ever learn; those ugly smears in my past I'd prefer to be burned in hell than having them known to anyone.

"Why…it had to be like this–like, fuck, you could have–"

"I have my own way to handle things, Hinata. Just like how you always have the tendency to be calculative of your every move. Beside…" he trails off. I see him dragging his gaze to set somewhere far past the big, glass window. Taking a deep breath, he brings his eyes back to me before finishing his sentence. "...there are things I need to protect. Just like how you said you need to protect yourself from anything that might end up hurting you, I just did exactly the same."

I witness how the faint yet clear gleam on his eyes present just a while ago slowly dims, sinking away until all I could see is the pair of blue eyes so foreign from how I remember them have been. And it suddenly dawns on me…how far separated we are to each other, from the very beginning. I know nothing about him; of his past, of his upbringing, of what he's been through until he became like this, of every lesson learnt from living that shaped him the way he is now.

All I know is the Naruto I met a few weeks ago, the perfect Naruto who's never been anything but gentle to me, who treats me as if every little thing about me matters. I must admit, the time we've lived together did help me to know him more and I've even grown fairly comfortable with him–something that usually has never been easy for me. And I've also made my decision to welcome his hand and walk through what may come next together. Without even knowing the picture of him I've been seeing is merely the tip of an iceberg, impossible to grasp what lies beneath the water.

And it hurts. It really hurts seeing the one you thought you could trust slowly turning into somebody you couldn't even recognize–right in front of your eyes, blowing away the little chamber you built for them inside your heart into ruin.

It so damn hurts.

Though, I'm no stranger to such things. I've lived long enough in the coping of betrayal. I've also lived long enough with lies mistaken as reality. Something that had broken my system to trust anyone. Something that taught me how one's value is merely determined by how useful they are, then you'd be thrown away like a used paper once you no longer bear any meaning or purposes.

And, fuck. Fuck. Fucking tears. My hands are itching to fly and cover my eyes to hide the threatening tears demanding to be spilled. My tongue tastes bitter. My knuckles become white because of the grip I never let go on the blanket still enveloping my body from the nipping chill hanging in the room's air.

And the bitter reality just numbs my tongue. "You didn't trust me," I mutter, not for him but more to myself. A solid slap to my senses of what I failed to take into account in all its clarity.

"I tried. But, clearly, you have things you hide from me too, don't you?" his appraisal look never leaves me. "Your reaction last night already speaks volume."

Naruto suddenly stands up, dragging a lazy hand through his golden lock, and leisurely walks toward where I sit. He stops on the bedside, tucking both his hands into the security of his pockets before tilting his head slightly, towering my figure.

"Who are you, actually?" he runs his appraisal eyes up and down my body, that kind of look that slowly makes me stir unpleasantly under his gaze. "Clearly, you're not just an ordinary college student with only your Jiji and Pokko in tow."

I look up only to see him already staring at me with those cold eyes. Who is…he? He's like a complete stranger–no, he really is. I don't know him. I don't know him. Every awakening of our memory keeps choking me in the pit of my lungs, of my loss, of what those beautiful times shared together only to end up into catastrophe.

But, it's not the time to dwell into those memories. It's not going to get me anywhere. I need to stand up, even though it's so fucking hard like I'm standing on the tips of thousand nails. But, aren't your feet built for these kinda things? Clearny, those scars present are the literal proof of what life has served you, Hinata. You're no stranger in this. Yes, get up. Even though all you have is your own feet, get up. Like how you did before. Like how you always did before.

"What do you wanna know?" steeling my composure, I challenge him. "Ah, no–what do you already know?"

"There are pieces I pocketed, of course. And it depends on your answer how I'd place them together. One might turn out good and the other, I'm afraid, might be something neither of us even want to hear."

"Haah–" I let out a breathy, sarcastic laugh, "I should have known better. Rich people are all the same, now and then."

I peel myself off from the blanket I'm tangled into, throwing it away until they pool on the edge of the king-sized bed. I dust off my messy clothes, trying to make myself look less miserable before taking my stride to walk past him.

It's enough. It's enough. I really need to go from the suffocating confinement of this place.

Until I feel a firm hand grab my wrist, holding me back from taking my steps. My body halts but I don't even bother to spin around.

"Who told you you could go?"

"Do I even need anyone's permission? I'm no one's."

"You're still my girlfriend."

W–What?! I can't believe this!

I whip my hand until his grip flies away from holding mine. Spinning around to fully face him, I glare at him with anger apparent in my eyes.

"Before I could place those puzzles together, I'll never let you go, Hinata–"

"Ok! Fine! What do you want to know?! Ask!"

I yell at him. Taking a few steps forward, I hold my chin up and give him my coldest glare–one thing I've never done ever since he came into my life.

"No need to yell, babe. Relax." Naruto steps forward, intruding my personal bubble so casually like how he always did, and bringing the back of his finger to brush on my cheek. "What intrigued me the most is, what's possibly the cause of such reaction when you met him last night? It's not something that normally happens when you meet someone for the first time. Unless…" he brings his lips to hover over my ears, "...it was not."

I grit my teeth, telling myself to never back off despite this dangerous proximity, while keeping my eyes sharp locked on his. "You asked me about that bastard? The one you dragged me just to meet last night?" I give him a scornful laugh. "He killed me once."

Chills hang in the air. Just as soon as my answer drops, his finger freezes, his eyes suddenly stare deeper at me as if trying to find any lie hidden beneath them. His whole face then shifts into something inexplicable, dark, like an eerie aura swirling around him, even more dangerous than anything I've ever seen in my whole life.

There's a chilling pause, enveloping both of us in its unsettling silence. Still, I wait for his response. What I just said might sound like utter bullshit, regarding who that man is and who I am. He owns a fucking company, one of the most profitable ones no less; while me, a broke college student hanging solely on my scholarship and part time jobs just to keep my life going. Placing us together in one line doesn't even sit right to begin with. But, that's the fucking truth. I don't care if Naruto doesn't even trust me, well, has he ever been though? That, I wonder.

"Why? There must be a reason why somebody tried to kill you." Despite the changes I can feel emitting from him, his voice still remains calm, his face stoic. And it left me wondering more about this man, what kind of life he's been living to build that impenetrable facade concealing his true self lies deep beneath that perfect persona. It's not those who go rampant with brute strength that are scary, it's always those who can keep their face straight as they snake their way to stab you from the back then asking you what's wrong–as if he has zero clues whatsoever. Unpredictable yet deadly. Catching their opponent in the most unthinkable way possible.

I need to end this and get out of here as soon as possible.

"I think that's enough reason why I behave the way I did last night. I don't owe you any further explanation."

Without sparing him another glance, I dash through the room and yank the door open. My steps are long-strided and hurried, because I know for sure, Naruto won't let me off the hook until he's satisfied with my explanation. My head whips around looking for the lift, only to find it on the far end of this hallway. Damn this huge hotel.

My heels tread on the luxury-looking carpet covering the floor. The stretch of this hallway feels like it'd take me hours just to reach the end of it–

Grab!

Oh, fuck.

"Let me go! I already answered your question!"

"Never. There's no point in running away. You know it well enough, I'll always find a way to get what I want. If there's no way, I'll dig it myself."

"Go make your own way, just never involve me anymore with whatever shit you'd scheme."

"Let's talk, Hinata. We'll just talk."

His grip loosens up. His expression slowly melts into something softer, and, dammit, why do I have to see the glimpse of Naruto that made me fall in love with him? It's faint, but it's there.

No, Hinata! It's your chance! Run!

I whip around with all my might, not gonna let the chance go away in vain. Running down the hallway, I slowly get my hope up when it's only a few meters away from the lift. Right when I just thought things would end good real quick, I bump into something solid with a loud thud.

My body sways. I'm losing my balance by the sudden clash as my feet stagger looking for a better grounding, until a pair of firm hands grab my arm holding me in place so that I wouldn't buckle.

"Hinata?"

A voice I'm familiar with. "Shikamaru?" Oh thank God!

"What happened? Why are you running–"

I hurriedly maneuver to hide behind him, that garners me a blatant questioning look on his face.

"Out of the way." A growl dripping with venom breaks our silence.

Knowing Shikamaru, I bet he'd be fast connecting the dots on his own, proven by his reflex-driven move to stretch his hand as if shielding me from Naruto.

"Who are you?" Shikamaru asks, calmly.

"My business is with her, not you."

Shikamaru turns his head slightly to look at me over his shoulder. "Do you have anything to do with this man?" I immediately shake my head. I give him a code look through my eyes saying 'help me out of this place' and God bless his brain for working a million times faster to catch my hints.

"You saw it yourself." Shikamaru shrugs with a faint lift on the corner of his lips, showing his nonchalant self. Without even waiting for Naruto's response that still doesn't come–which is so unlike him–Shikamaru grabs my hand and leads me to the lift. Walking hand in hand, I follow him while keeping my head low, eyes never leaving the floor that blurs under our steps. His stride is fast yet it doesn't make me stubble on my feet.

Just before the lift's door slides shut, I gather my courage to peek at Naruto through my hesitant eyes. Surprisingly, he's still standing there. Eyes still devoutly looking at me. An expression impossible to fathom adorning his face.

Through the few seconds before it's completely closed, I see his lips move. Saying something I can't hear yet my brain can still work on what he says, somehow.

"I'll find you."

—✿—

"Ah–sorry!"

Shikamaru lets go of my hand he's been holding all along once we arrive in the basement, standing in front of a silver car he just unlocked which garners a questioning look from me. Is owning a car so common nowadays? Or is it just me who's broke as fuck?

"Ah, it's my father's. I just drove him to a meeting held in this hotel. What a coincidence to meet you here."

"Ah," I reply simply while giving him a few repeated nods, uhh how embarrassing. I really need to stop wearing my thoughts for a dead giveaway like this. Regardless, bless his brain. It's been so easy to talk to him because of his strong sense of intuition and how quick he is in reading the room.

"Want me to take you back to the dorm or…?" he asks carefully, leaving a room for me to fill with the choice I desire.

"I'd love to. Thank you." I give him a reassuring smile before we get inside the car.

The drive is quiet, but it's not awkward at all. He puts the music player on to fill the silence between us, playing old pop songs from the early 1900s that gives me a hazy sense of home.

"My dad's fav. Might not be our generation's taste, but, yea.."

"I love it."

He turns his head slightly upon hearing my answer. "Really?"

"Yep. Not many know this but I live with only my grandfather back home. He'd play old songs on repeat whenever he's working hahaha, that explains things?"

He replies with a breathy chuckle. "Never expect that coming."

The song filling our space slowly melts the whole situation. I find comfort in those melodies, and it reminds me again how I've been missing Jiji, resulting in taking a mental note to come home during the few days off once the test ends.

"That was the guy on the phone."

I glance at him but not daring to meet his eyes. I know what he means, in all its clarity. See? He already connected the dots.

"You remember, eh?" I laugh bitterly.

"Boyfriend?"

This one, I don't give him a reply right away. Technically, he is still my boyfriend. We haven't officially talked about breaking up whatsoever. But, is there really still something we can hang on to? In this relationship? Clearly, I need time to think. To let all the emotional storm to pass before I can think with my rational mind again.

Though I can indistinctly sense the final result on this matter already. So, I choose to keep my answer to myself.

Shikamaru seems to catch the hesitation through my delayed answer. "Ah, I got it," he adds, implicitly canceling his recent question so I wouldn't be bothered for an answer.

"I'm sorry. It's just that…I don't wanna talk about it."

"It's ok."

We continue the drive. The trees on the roadside flash in front of my sight, sun rays kiss my cheek, and I find myself melting in my seat, finding comfort in its warmth. My body might be staying still, like a statue, too lazy to even move a finger. But my mind is honestly still a complete chaos. My thoughts wander to play on the dangerous line in the periphery of the place with a big, bold warning in my head. I don't want this ride to end. I don't want to get back to my dorm because once I'm all alone, it's only a matter of time until my thoughts jump into that dark dudgeon deep in the pit of my consciousness. To awaken again my fear and anxiety. To make my brain restless, drowning in overthinking.

"I'm too late, heh…"

I faintly hear Shikamaru mutter something from his seat.

"Did you say something? Sorry, I didn't hear you clearly."

"I said, we're here."

He beckoned to the building in front of us. Ah, it's already here.

"I'm so sorry for all the troubles, Shikamaru. I'll treat you to lunch after the test next Monday?"

"No worries. It's not like I saved you from a life and death situation to begin with," he brushes it off with a slight joke in his words.

Though, matter of factly, it was indeed a thing of life and death for me. He doesn't need to know that though.

I get out of the car, closing the door, and bend forward to meet his eyes one more time. Flashing him a genuine slime, I wave my hand at him. "See you later. I owe you one, Shikamaru."

He bids me goodbye before driving off the road.

—✿—

"I'll find you."

Those soundless words he said the last time we met still restlessly rings on the back of my mind. I know, keeping everything like this is like holding a ticking bomb; it'd for sure explode, at any given moment, sooner or later. It's only a matter of time until he'd finally find me again and bring that matter up for a clearance.

And at times, I just thought maybe it's for the better; clear everything between us, make the closure, and then move on with our life–our separate life from before we crossed paths on that fateful night.

I honestly still don't understand why he planned everything to the extent that 'trapping' me and that bastard would be necessary. Or why he really wanted to know my 'connection' with him, or why it even matters for our relationship in the first place.

There are still so many unanswered questions jostling inside my head. But the scariest question being, to what extent Naruto already knows about my past? And with what urgency did he dig around for it? And…why? Why?

I've lived for years in the struggle of building the person that I am right now. Hyuuga Hinata. 23 years old college student. No siblings. Both my parents have already passed away. Living with only my grandfather and a cat back in Osaka. Those are the only list I'd ever tell people when I introduce myself. Nothing beyond those lines.

Since my relationship with Naruto started, I've never planned to tell him anything more than that either, at least until the moment both of us are finally, finally settled. I mean, why does it matter? Why do I need to tell every small detail of my past when I've already considered them dead and buried them long ago? If he really loves me, ain't he supposed to accept whoever I am right now?

But in the end, if it really matters that much for him, the final result lies only one.

We can't be together.

As much as it hurts me as it is.

Being with someone from his kind is dangerous to begin with. I was already aware of that fact and it's also the reason why I'd been hesitating since day one. Yet, I still wanted to try. Naruto makes me want to try, to give myself the chance to do what my heart wants.

Usually, my rational judgment has always topped any feelings or desires before taking an action or making any decision. I couldn't afford to risk my life when I barely have anything I can use to pay the price lest things take a sudden turn toward the worst case scenario. Let alone having a safety net.

But Naruto, he's the first. He's the first to make me want to forget anything just to be with him. He's the first to teach me the courage to let myself give in to the whispers of my heart. To taste the sheer sliver of luxury of being able to bask into my feelings without worrying of what may come next, because just knowing that I now have him beside me is enough to steel my bravery.

But…the fact that I'm already so fucked up not even long after we started dating…it makes me realize how I need to reevaluate my decision in dating him.

Drip.

Drip.

"Ah, shit–" I curse under my breath when I realize a drop of clear water falls on the text book I'm currently reading.

It's not the first time, though. I drag my gaze to scan the pages. Crinkly paper can be seen on the surface, fading ink of the notes I wrote, as a result of them getting wet then dried again. Despite my attempt to keep my brain completely occupied with studying, those unpleasant memories are still echoing in my head. If it weren't for the dripping tears free falling on my book, I wouldn't have realized how it haunts my head this whole time–no matter how much I try to push them at bay.

The rest of my exam went well, though I must admit, it felt like I'm on a marathon with sprained ankles. I made it to the finish line, despite how it hurt me in every step I took. But exams have always been a matter of life and death for me. Studying until my nose bled, until every tip of my fingers trembled by the lack of energy, or completely passing out the moment I took one step inside my dorm room; I've been through them all. But studying while placing all my broken heart into places again is new. To have my book wet by the falling tears as I keep pushing myself to study is also something I've never done before.

I've also turned off all my communication devices, not that I have a hell lot of it though. One phone I already have and the one Naruto gave me. I turned them off once I got back to my dorm after Shikamaru dropped me off that day. And it's been 5 days since then.

Done with the last day of my exam, I hold my phone with slight anxiety on my palms. I decide to close my book and move on with something that's been bugging me. Reviewing the test I just took today wouldn't be effective because my mind is completely wrapped on something else.

Pressing the power button, I wait as my phone starts coming to life again. But…weird. I expected a hell lot of missed calls from Naruto and text for him yet all I can see is an empty call log and zero unread text in my inbox.

Did he…give up already?

I shake my head as I try to brush that thought off.

Nope. Nope. Never. He's not the type to give up that easily, especially before what he wants gets fulfilled.

I can't even decide if it's a good thing or not. And it makes me kind of anxious. Things I can't grasp my mind onto always stir unpleasant feelings in the guts because I can't prepare anything within my arsenal to my defense before the attack comes.

Is this really…ok–

Ding!

My breath hitches when the sound of my notification rings.

Of course.

Of course it finally comes.

My eyes skim through the screen, briefly reading his contact name on the display. He sent me a text.

The fact that he hasn't even made an attempt to contact me since the incident in the hotel until now, still remains a wonder for me. There's always something about his timing that I just couldn't grasp my mind on. Like they're always so precisely calculated. And this text he just sent me…shit. It's really unsettling.

My finger hovers over the screen and pauses for a few seconds, closing my eyes to gather the courage to see what kind of 'surprise' this might be, before finally swiping right where his name glows on it.

It's a simple text. Asking me to meet, as I already expected. But…the thing that takes me by surprise is the image he attached.

15.39: I've sent someone to your place. Let's meet.

15.41: Ah, I almost forgot. Send my greeting to your Jiji. I really enjoy his tea…and companion.

[image attached]

My eyes widen the moment I click on the image attachment. There it shows my Jiji, from the pov of someone who sits in front of him with two cups of half-finished tea on the table.

What the…? Is he with my Jiji now?

It's…my house. I know that tea table all too well. The chicken-feet-like scribble engraved on its edge was made by me when I was 12; on it written 'sorry' because I was too afraid to face my grandfather after the mistake I made.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I bolt through the campus hallway after shoving my phone into my bag. Running like a mad girl back to my dorm. Bullets of sweat trek down my forehead and wet my neck when I reach the front gate of the building. Bending forward and resting my palm on my knees, I try to catch my breath after the sprint I made, my feet feel like giving up.

I look up, and just as Naruto said, there's a man standing beside a silver shiny car not far from the gate. His face is so stoic with a tailor-made suit enveloping his straightened and undeniably bulky body. Exactly like those bodyguard thingy I always see on tv.

I don't need to double check if he's really his man or not because clearly, his presence here is already too prominent to begin with.

The man gives me a slight bow when I approach him, then beckons me to get into the car. Without any protest, I follow.

I can't even focus where this car is leading to because my mind is already too occupied with the thought of Jiji. I try to call Jiji so many times yet not even one of my calls is picked up.

Shit. Shit! He's not going to really do anything to him right?

What a dirty trick. Classic.

It's a classic move. One I'm no stranger to. Using other's weaknesses to get what they want. It's not that Naruto was explicitly threatening me. But I can clearly understand his implication of sending that picture. And the fact that he already found out about Jiji and where my home is means one thing for me: I have to be careful. Really really careful.

Jiji is the only family I have left. I can't risk anything to happen to him. Just kill me already but never ever ever touch him.

My leg is rocking anxiously on my seat, teeth sink deep to bite on my lips as my eyes dart here and there to recognize the road we are driving. I know where this is heading to.

Maybe it's roughly 20 minutes or so until we finally pull over in front of the grandiose building where his penthouse tops over.

"Mr. President is waiting for you in his place, Miss."

I give him a simple nod and a thank you I'm not even sure he could hear as I run to the lobby. My hand punches the PIN made only for his floor once I get to the lift, waiting for this carriage to ascend one floor after another to the place where a lot of our memories are kept tightly. Which maybe, in just moments later, would witness another phase of our relationship, alas it sure wouldn't be a good one.

There's a ding before the door glides open. The comfy minimalist interior of his lair comes to my view, wafting the aroma of musk and forest I've grown too fond of.

I push the heels of my sneakers to change into my fluffy soft pink home slippers he brought me weeks ago. Taking a pause to look at it, I just realize how it looks too stand out from his sets of mostly black, white, or monochromatic color schemes. Maybe that's how my existence looks like in his grandiose frame of exuberance? Like, completely out of place? And I can feel something in my chest crack a little upon saying the word 'my'. Soon enough, I wouldn't have any claim of anything inside this house. Nothing. Not even the owner himself.

I decide to walk straight to the living room, where his favorite massage chair sits facing the view of a skyscraper. It's his favorite time of the day to watch over the town, or so he told me. And my thread halts when I finally see him. Just as I expected, sitting comfortably while facing the big glass window, watching over the town with the background of dusk.

What a life to live in.

And that familiar bitterness bits my tongue again.

"You sure enjoy your life so much, heh?" I mutter, "...while I run for my life to get here."

Every word tastes bitter, it's better to just numb all my senses once for all at this point. I see Naruto stand up after hearing my sarcastic greeting. He's wearing a cotton maroon shirt and knee-high pants. Looking so comfortable. And gorgeous as ever. I would have jumped to cling on him if it were weeks ago, when everything was still so right.

"How was your exam?"

I snort, not even bother to hide it. "What do you want to hear? That it was a total flop after you messed me up?"

His face still remains calm, ocean eyes never leaving mine. "I know you're not the type to let them fail so easily."

I hate that he's right.

"Your silence means you did well–"

"Enough for the talk. What do you want? What did you do to my grandfather? I swear on my dead body if you do anything to him–"

"Woah, calm down. He's as good as new." Naruto steps leisurely toward the couch, placing himself comfortably on top of it, then bringing his legs to cross.

"He's a really good guy. And a good tea maker, to top it off."

"What do you want?" I put a pressure on my sentence, emphasizing each word.

"What if you take a seat first? I'm expecting to have a nice, long talk with you, Hinata." His head tilts slightly to beckon me to the seat next to him. Like hell I'd let such proximity.

I walk around and choose the seat across from him.

"Let's continue where we left off, shall we?"

"Don't push me."

He sighs. "I hope you'd make this easy, Hinata?"

"And what if I won't?"

"It's better if you would. Both for you and your beloved Jiji–"

"Tsk," I snort, "of course you'd drag a harmless old man in this. Why am I not surprised?"

Naruto keeps his eyes straight to me, not even swayed by my bitter responses.

"At least, can you tell me why?" I pause to take a deeper breath, "Why you want to know everything that much–" I suddenly feel a tightness in my throat, my next words won't come out. Fuck, it's hard. I throw my sight on the cold marble floor, "...ain't what we've got…enough?"

"It's not. I wouldn't have gone this far if everything were already enough. But it's not, Hinata. It's not."

"I told you already…" slowly releasing a long sigh, "...that I barely have anything to offer. So what do you wanna get from this?"

"This is a different matter."

"You'll regret this. You'll really regret pushing me past my limit. Because once it's done, then so do us."

I wait. I wait. I wait.

With the sheer belief of maybe, maybe I could find another faint glimpse of him to whom I fell for and ready to risk everything. Yet, once again, I'm left feeling so utterly stupid.

He's not even fazed. Face still straight as frozen photograph…where eyes no longer gleam that abyssal sliver of the ocean. Lips no longer bloom that radiant smile, they wither like fallen leaves in the autumn. And his voice forever kept in the pit of his throat–no longer vibrates that melodious pronounce of my name.

I guess…he's just so ready to lose everything–to lose me. And I hate the fact that it's only me who has it hardest to let go. How am I going to find a love like this again, after him?

To love and being loved is surely a luxury thing. And somebody like me, clearly isn't cut for it. Maybe it's really never made for me.

Everything we've been through together now feels like merely a fairytale the universe has been humble enough to let me taste a bit of. And now, now. It's time to wake up. To get back to reality.

"Remember when I said, I was born to be used? That my existence is merely for the deal I have no power over?"

Recollection pools on his face.

"Somebody's value is determined by how useful they are and once they bear no meaning, they deserve to be thrown away; that's what that man taught me." I take a pause just to feel how my insides start to stir in discomfort, nauseous building to my throat by my attempt to unravel again those buried, long-left memories. "I learnt it from him. He showed me. He taught me everything that shaped me into the person that I am right now."

…

She was one and still so chaste.

She was two and the world was a bright, colorful place to live in.

She was three and another new life joined her family, a little sister too frail and tiny she was afraid she'd break her just by a mere touch.

She was four and a lot of questions began to pool inside her head.

She started to wonder why at that time. A child craving for her father's love and affection, yet all she ever got in return was a scornful look, a cold glare, and a view of his back always leaving her behind. Wondering what's wrong and what's missing in her. Why he always seem brighter when it's her sister and the next he'd turn as cold as a storm once she put herself in frame.

And then she was five. When her life was supposed to be all fun and cheerful, she was already forced to learn a plethora of things she didn't really understand why she needed to. She expressed what she felt and said what her heart truly wanted, but the despising look from her father was unbearable. And it left her no choice but obeying whatever he told her to.

She still didn't understand why. Yet she still did everything he assigned her anyway.

She fidgeted in her place, little fingers fiddled on the rim of her frilly dress while she waited for her father's mouth to say something. He flipped through the papers she handed him, they were the first marks she got from her studies and she wanted him to be the first to see it.

Her heart beat faster the longer she waited. Anticipation building up inside her little tummy, she felt like it'd explode flowers by her excitement. If this is what he wants me to do, then he'd be proud of me, right? Was all she thought.

Until it wasn't.

"You came all the way here just to show me these? They're not even perfect marks."

Then all the held-back smiles that almost stretched across her face faded, replaced by deep frowns of blatant confusion and emotion still so hard for her to truly understand.

And all she could ever think was, I am not enough. All I've got is not enough.

So, she tried something. She wanted to test her theories to see how the result would affect her father. She worked hard, really hard that sometimes she wondered if everything was even necessary. But it was all her little mind was curious to see.

Few months later, she found herself standing in his way when he got home from a business trip. Stopping him in his trek and gathering all her courage to show him what her hard work had paid off. All full marks and excellent scores. She was brilliant to begin with and this time, she was more confident.

But her expectation to get at least a sheer acknowledgement or a glimpse of genuine smile never, never came. He shoved it back to her little palms, without saying anything, then walked past her toward her little sister who blabbed something unclear from her crib. And she saw it again, how different he was when it came to her sister it sometimes made her wonder if her eyes were playing tricks on her. But they weren't. Everything was so clear. And that hit her right to the gut.

It turned out like this when her marks were almost perfect. And it also turned out the same when she'd worked hard enough she aced all the subjects available.

What's so wrong?

Father? What's a father actually?

She'd seen some of her friends and how their father did them. Their loving gaze and affectionate voice when they talked to each other was enough to make her question things. Are all other fathers like that?

Because, clearly, she couldn't relate.

Only her mother did that. Loving gaze, honey-dripping voice, and caresses even softer than any silk. A complete opposite of all the time her father had ever been to her, as far as she could remember. She was a child craving for love, and only her mother could fill that thirst. She found solace only in her. And she was her everything. Everything.

She was six when her father rented a whole amusement park on her sister's birthday. Throwing a grand party there with everything in it available to play. She was happy, seeing her sister's jolly laughter took her heart at ease. But, she was also aware of the looming memories of her own three years old self. She'd asked him to take her to DisneyLand back then. Her eyes brimming with curiosity and excitement after she just saw a ferris wheel on tv.

But, did she ever get taken there?

No. Never.

He was too busy to be a part of a child play, or so he told her.

And seeing her father himself gave a piggyback to her baby sister to ride the ferris wheel in front of her eyes…it was the first time she felt nauseous even though her body was completely, perfectly healthy. And she was so confused in the most unpleasant way possible.

She was seven when there was a business gathering during the winter. All his colleagues from other partner companies joined the event held in his mansion in the mountain. And during this event, the understanding of her role in the picture started to dawn on her.

Her father had told her so many times, reminding her every chance he got about her being the Hyuuga's heiress. That she was to become the successor of his company. That she needed to take into account everything her father had made her learn. And everyone in this gathering, including their family who also got invited, were all eyes to look for her weakness, her even smallest mistake, and turn them into a sword they'd undoubtedly point against her. Thus she gotta behave, as best as she could. So that she wouldn't put shame on the Hyuuga's name.

She never thought bearing a name would be that heavy. All the struggle, hardworks, and tears shed through all the years her father tried to shape her the way he wanted–everything just for the name she wields.

And she began to think, would everything be so much easier if she's not gonna be what he so called the heiress? Is it even worth every bad memory she collected through the years?

She…didn't actually want it to begin with. She never asked for such place or title in the empire her father had built. She just wanted something people called normalcy; having a little yet strong-bonded family, living a life so modest but brimming with love in every breath they share together, getting told that she did great and he's proud of her when she achieves something.

Those small things are the luxury hardest to get in her life–not the golden spoon she'd been born with.

So, that night, when everyone was having a gala dinner in the main hall, she rebelled. She sneaked out from the mansion, with tight layers of jackets enveloping her small body through the falling snow.

At least, for just a short while, she was able to be herself. To let loose of everything that'd been binding her every move all the while ever since the event started. Being around those people wouldn't allow her to taste such sliver of comfort–of not being watched and being the center of all eyes to make their judgment.

That night, in the hidden corner of the world, she found herself wallowing in the comfort of solitude. And lucky, also that night, she'd made herself a new friend. Someone who happened to also needed a break from those lavish lives they'd left behind–even though just for a short while. She failed to be alone, but she didn't hate it.

But every good thing in life never really lasted for so long. Because once the night ended, the first thing that greeted her back to the mansion was her father's look of utter despise. Not that she didn't expect that coming at all. She already predicted it, in all its clarity.

And she got locked up for the rest of the event.

That marked the starting point of her rebellion.

From that moment on, she stopped trying. She stopped fooling herself and tried so hard just to impress her father. She stopped to care. What's the point when he didn't even want it from the beginning?

Days rolled, taking turns and twists at some point in its most unexpected way possible. Until she was eight, and all the whys she'd been bottling up inside her mind finally, finally getting an answer.

She was eight. When her baby sister did something grand her younger self wasn't even able to accomplish. Her father had smiled from ears to ears–that was actually the first time she'd seen him smiling so wide she was afraid his face would split into two. But that smile wasn't hers to claim.

And that same fateful day, there was an official announcement of her being the next heiress of the family. Grandiose party was thrown, as if trying to tell the world who the oldest daughter of the Hyuuga was.

But she totally wasn't feeling it. Not a sheer of happiness could be seen within her deepest self upon having the world placed right on her palms. And she did what she'd been yearning to do: being honest.

"I don't want to." Was all she said to the microphone, on the podium, right beside her father who'd just made the announcement. The whole hall snapped shut, not a single soul even dared to blink as the air became chilly, gripping silence engulfed every living soul in the room. They were too stunned to even speak, hardly believing their own hearing as if they'd just hallucinated things.

But she made it clear and short.

"I'll never want to be the heiress."

She'd barely registered how the faces of the people in front of her were making when suddenly, a cold, harsh grip snatched her small wrist. She got dragged, little feet barely catching up with the stride they almost buckled on the hard floor.

The door slammed shut and the first thing she saw was the burning anger in her father's eyes.

Slap!

She felt a sting on her cheek. It burned like hell. But, rather than anything, that slap hurt her heart more than any physical pain her body had to bear.

Her eyes were already brimming with tears. Trembling hand rose to touch on her red cheek and her mind was completely blank.

"I'll never want to be the heiress?" he hissed. "Who the fuck decided that?!"

His hand suddenly grabbed the collar of her dress, lifting her body until she was shaken midair, the tip of her shoes barely touching the floor. "You don't have any right to decide anything. You heard that?! YOU DON'T HAVE ANY FUCKING RIGHT TO DECIDE ANYTHING!"

Bam!

The door slammed open, revealing her mother heaving for air as if she'd just sprinted her way to the room.

"Hiashi!" she dashed through the room and as soon as she reached where they were standing, she snatched her body and gathered her into a protective embrace. "What the hell are you doing to my child?!"

He snorted. "'My?' she's not even your child–"

"Shut up!" she stood up, chin held high and a death glare was shot toward him. "What did we agree about this?!" she hissed, half whispering. "I warn you, don't you dare running your mouth like that–"

"It's the truth! She's not even our child–"

"I said shut up!"

BAAM!

The sound of the door being slammed shut startled both of them–they stopped their bicker. She'd run out of the room, with tears spilling all over her swollen cheek and mind melted like a puddle in the street.

She couldn't even think. Everything that had happened shocked her to the core. From the physical pain and the emotional tumult storming inside her head.

"I'm not Mama's daughter?" she sobbed. "Is that why father had been treating me like that? Because I'm not their child?"

She kept her little legs to run, didn't even know where they led her to.

"Wait!"

She whipped her head around, only to see her mother running after her with a worried look apparent on her beautiful face. "Please sweety, stop running!" She struggled with her luxury gown that was never made to be worn to such activity.

"Stop following me! Why do you care?! I'm not even your child!"

Her steps got faster and the only thing her head could think was to run away from everything. She needed to find somewhere to hide, somewhere that could protect her from this cruel world. Somewhere only for her and let her be her own self. Just like that time in the snow.

She only focused on her feet to keep them running as far as she could. The moon-lit street did nothing to help her view better and she felt how her flat shoes almost gave up.

"NOO–STOOPP!"

Her mother's scream was deafening in her ears. But, soon enough, her whole world was swallowed in the screeching sound of a wheel against the hard asphalt. Her head snapped up from her feet, only to see a blinding light from a car only a few meters away from her.

Her mouth fell open, to scream 'til the top of her lungs, to tell the world that she's tired–but she also wasn't sure what that scream entitled, was it to be saved or to let that accident happen.

She closed her eyes when she realized everything was already over. She gave up. She decided to let what fate had planned for her.

She waited.

She waited.

And she waited.

But, the feeling of cold, hard metal hitting her small body didn't come, nor the pain she already anticipated once her body got thrown to the road.

Because, when she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was her mother, hugging her so tight, shielding her little body from hitting the cold asphalt. Blood trekked from the crown of her head down her forehead. Half-lidded eyes tried hard to maintain focus.

Everything happened in a flash and she could barely register anything in her head as they laid on the road. Why's Mama here?!

"M–Mama–"

"I'm…sorry–" cough, "–you have to…bear…everything…it's my f–fault…"

"Mama!" she started crying when her eyes slowly drifted shut. "Mama wake up!" her face winched in pain around her ribs when she tried to reach for her mother's face, trying to brush away the blood flowing on her cheek.

"Why…why are you…doing this to me…" her words came along with her sobs, "...when I'm not even yo–your daughter–"

"Shhh–what are you…saying–" she started coughing blood, they spilled off her lips, "...you are my baby…my lovely beautiful b–baby…"

The world rang with a deafening, high-pitched ringing as everything seemed to freeze. She couldn't even hear her own cries until her lungs squeeze every drop of voice in her body. Her head started to spin and the pain around her ribs got more and more unbearable in each breath. Definitely, she broke some bones there.

"Please…remember..no matter what ha–happen, you're still a…Hyuu–ga…and I will–" her voice got more faint as her breathing started to become weaker and weaker. "…love y–you…always."

And that was the last thing she could remember before everything went black.

She didn't know how long time had passed. When her eyes fluttered open, the first thing she could hear was the beeping sound of the heart rate monitor sitting on her bedside.

She tried to lift her arm, heavy. Her face winched in pain when she tried to prop her body up, but failed miserably as she fell back flat on her bed.

"Are you happy now?" a deep growl greeted her. Father. He was there in her room.

"ARE YOU HAPPY NOW THAT YOU KILLED MY WIFE?!"

He abruptly charged closer, screaming in frustration as he tried to hit her, as if trying to make her suffer as much as she could possibly take. But lucky, they're not alone. Some people in white lab coats had restrained him from doing what he aimed to do.

"Sir! Please calm down! She's still a patient–"

"GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME! I'M GOING TO KILL HER WITH MY OWN BARE HANDS–"

"No Sir! Everything'd be worse if you do that!" Three guys were struggling to hold him. Everything they said seemed to just fly off the window as he was totally wrapped in burning rage.

"Remember our agreement, Sir! Or everything would be called off!" Upon hearing this warning, Hiashi suddenly calmed down. But that didn't tame his rage at all. His eyes were literally burning with killing intent. His teeth clattered and the anger vibrated from his body could possibly shatter glass.

"You–! Do you know why you're even born into this world?" he growled, "It's because you'd be the successor of my company! You'll work until every bone you have break to make my legacy going! But look at what you just did!"

He glared at her. If gaze could pierce, she'd have bled by his glare. "Instead of doing the sole reason why you're born, you just killed my wife! You–! You are the worst decision I've ever made in my whole life!"

She was already trembling miserably on her bed. Her body seemed to shake on its own, her head hurt like there was something hitting on it with dumbfounding force. Not only because of what her father said, but also the numbing reality that her mother…died, because of her.

She looked up when there was only silence left in the room. Eyes red as blood. Tears fell unstoppable like a broken faucet. Her sobbing got louder, she choked on her own breath and she could barely feel anything at all as her mind recalled the last moment she had with her mother–it left her feeling so stupid because she had no idea that it was their last. She regretted it. She regretted that she didn't make the best of it when there would be no more chance for her to meet her mother again.

"Mama…Mama…Ma–ma…" cries spilled uncontrollably from his little mouth. And Mama was the only word she could say.

"She's not your mother! Don't you dare call her mother with your filthy mouth!" He beckoned the men with his head, and as if on cue, they walked to her side. Their hands started to grab on both her wrist and her ankles. She struggled on her bed. Feet kicking forcefully and her body squirmed with all her might.

"Don't resist! You'd just hurt yourself more!" one of the men said. And true to his word, she suddenly felt a hard pang on her ribs, the pain rushed through her entire body and it made her completely limp on her bed. She couldn't fight back anymore as much as she wanted to.

Hiashi stepped closer once her body didn't move anymore. Still with those eyes full of hatred, he towered over her. "You–! I have no more reason to keep you around. You are useless. No value. You no longer bear any meaning. And starting this day…you are dead."

One of the men brought out an injection, the sharp tip of the needle glinted for her to see.

"Didn't you say you love your mother? You'll join her soon enough."

Fear started gripping her chest upon seeing the needle getting near and near. She couldn't even struggle to fight back–because the pain from her chest wouldn't allow her to–until finally it stung on her arm. As the seconds went by, everything slowly became blurry. Her eyelids felt so heavy, they kept pushing down and demanding to shut close. Until she fell into a deep, deep, and deep dark world.

"You are dead."

…

"I really thought I was already dead. Oh I wish I had. Death would be so much easier than this. But, unfortunately, I'm not yet dead. To this day. If there's something else I regret other than my mother's passing, it's me being alive."

"And the next thing I remember, when I woke up, I was trapped inside what I thought was a box…when it was actually a coffin–" I make a sudden pause when I choke on my last word. Feeling the fucked up memory getting unraveled again after the years of trying to forget, I feel really really sick in the gut. But I need to end this.

"He made a funeral for me. Announcing to the whole world that his wife and eldest daughter died in the accident that night."

I find myself holding on my shaky exhale. My eyes stay rooted on my trembling fingers, seeing the apparent proof of how it still scares me until this day that every fiber of my being is shaken by the memory. This is…enough. I've passed my limit. I feel like passing out right here and right now but what choice do I have? I gotta leave. This is not somewhere I belong.

I couldn't even dare to look at Naruto. I really don't have it in me to see what kind of expression he's wearing now. "That's it. Satisfied?" I stand up, still without the courage to see him straight to his eyes.

"From here on, we don't know each other. We're done. Done."

Without losing a heartbeat, I spin around and walk toward the lift. In my defense, all I can think right now is running away, as far as I could. Just like that night. I need somewhere to hide–

"Ha–Hanami…?"

I'm not even reaching my sixth step when my body suddenly freezes. I feel the suffocating heartbeat slamming against my rib cage as every breath feels so impossible. I whip around, my eyes find him already standing from his seat, looking at me with his deep gaze.

"How do you know that name?" I hissed.

Naruto doesn't reply. He just stands there like a statue with an utterly inexplicable expression drawn on his face.

"Hanami is dead. That night. With her mother. Don't you dare saying that name again."

Turning around, I leave him.

This is the end for us.