- Pluck -
Part II
Chapter 26: Moon and Mistletoe (Part II)
Companion song: Branching Paths by Nito (for whatever reason, this song played over and over in my head during the dancing scenes).
She had visions of Tamaki when she slept.
It did not feel right to call them dreams, because dreams had a sort of unrealistic twist to them. When she dreamed of Neji, his eyes would be missing, and she and him would have to fly to Moon to collect rocks that would fit in his eye sockets. When she dreamed of Naruto, he was young and skating on sunlight, drifting in and out of focus. When she dreamed of Sasuke —
"Hinata."
— he said her name like it was the only word he knew how tfo say, and the shock was enough to rip her out of sleep.
But what she saw in the shadows of her slumber that night was no dream.
"Can I . . . request one, last thing from you, Moon?"
"Can you . . . take me to the Earth gate, then?"
It was reality crafted into fleeting images that her mind grasped onto despite the exhaustion of her entire system. It was the past. It was real. Those words were real. Tamaki was real.
"Where . . . do you live?"
"I-In Forest 6. W-With him."
And this was Forest 6. She woke up in a cave in the middle of Forest 6. It was as dark as the bottom of Ocean 11, but she could see every nook with perfect accuracy. But in the corners of her vision, she saw the trees of Forest 3. The cave's floor was replaced with cool dirt and a fried corpse.
The Guard told her there was some sort of connection between Tamaki and the Inuzuka. For all she knew, it had to be true. Because seeing her body in the heart of the Inuzuka made her stomach knot up and slither around like a snake, trying to find a way to escape.
The form of her cousin appeared out of the dark and floated in front of her. He looked down like he could see the very thing she could, like he was taking a gander through her eyes and following the train of thought bouncing in her head.
"Don't say a word about her."
And she felt so enraptured, so utterly inclined to listen to him — but why? Why her cousin? Why this man, this spirit, this vision? What could he possibly know about the Inuzuka that made him so keen to tell her this bit? Because, obviously, he knew some. He knew Akumaru's name. He knew how to deal with him.
So what else did he know? And how?
She nearly asked — the question was teetering between her teeth — but she stopped herself. She wasn't alone in this room. Sasuke was sleeping, and she didn't want to disturb him.
But a glance in his direction told her she was a bit too late, for his uncovered gaze stared right at her as he was half-inclined on the backs of his elbows, watching her without making a noise. He must have thought her silly, standing there, looking at things not there. Her face tingled with embarrassment, and she gave a low sweep of her shoulders in an apology.
"I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't," he said. "I was up."
Shino's bed was off to the side, empty. There was no way of looking out into the world for Hinata to know what time it was, but she was inclined to say it was still dark out. Or maybe the moon in her cousin's eyes made her simply feel that way. She supposed it didn't matter. Shino had a plan set in motion, and he was probably working on it at that very moment.
"Go ahead." Sasuke pushed himself into a more comfortable sitting position, and his head tipped with expectation. "What are you thinking?"
She remembered a time when she was the one who could read him. When did the roles change so suddenly?
Neji's warning still stung the side of her throat, so Hinata moved closer to Sasuke, just in case any Inuzuka were listening in. "It's about Tamaki."
Nothing in Sasuke's face changed. At least not in the parts she could see. "What about her?"
"For some reason, this place feels connected to her." Again, she understood there had to be. The Guard had told her such. But they hadn't gone into detail about it, and that made her paranoid. What was the extent of her connection with them? Was she just a passing name to the Inuzuka, or was she something more important?
Sasuke had the kind of look that fit well in such a dark, cold cave. He didn't really focus on anything, instead stared blankly out into the dark. "You're right to think that," he said. "She was a part of them."
Part of the Inuzuka? Tamaki?
"How so?"
He shook his head. "But Aburame was clear to tell me not to mention her around them." With that, he stood, picked up his folded cloak from the foot of his rags and furs, and began to pull it on. "I'm sure you understand why."
Because she was dead. Because she was important enough to them that if they heard how she died, that would surely ruin this whole mission.
Dread sank its hooks into her skin, and Hinata tried her best to not let it show.
...
When they finally filed out of their cave, Sasuke took her straight to Shino's side before disappearing.
There was a ruckus among the Inuzuka.
The weeds gripped the skin of their faces, weighing them down, making them look agitated and strained. They scratched the claws at the ends of their fingers into their matted hair, yapping to themselves. And it was not in the least bit subtle when their thin, dark eyes would find Shino among their pack.
Just yesterday, the Inuzuka looked prepared to kill them. Now Hinata feared she had been too naive to believe they were beyond that threshpoint.
"Shino." Her hand slipped from her cloak to tug lightly at her bodyguard's sleeve. She didn't want to draw any more attention. The circumstances were already difficult enough as they were. "Did something happen?"
There were body cues she always looked for when it came to him. Standing antenni meant he was alert. When his lower pair of arms crossed over his abdomen, he was trying to feign nonchalance. When the bit of skin under his jaw crawled, like a swarm, she knew he was nervous.
She saw none of those signs. He looked absolutely composed.
"Play along," he said, the ends of his words waning with his accent."War will be with Inuzuka and Aburame."
War?
The glaring, the stickers, the sneering — so that was what that was all about.
She fried to push panic away from its hold on her throat. Shino didn't look concerned, and she knew to trust his judgment.
But even the idea of it — the violence, the bloodshed —
Would Shino be injured? How will this aid in them gaining the trust of the Inuzuka?
"This is what you were planning?" she whispered to him.
His jaw tipped in a slight nod. "Hinata. It is well."
She swallowed, and asked, "Does not mean . . . your clan is coming?"
"Few." One of his four hands brushed the knuckles that held his sleeve, and Hinata looked at his face once more — just to make sure she wasn't tricking herself. If there was even an inch of worry, of fear, of anxiety in his structure, she'd know, she'd see it, and then she would panic. But his weeds were not tight like that of the Inuzuka. They hung by a thread and waved with his steady breath. "Play along, Hinata. Yes?"
…
She understood.
There would be war between the Inuzuka and the Aburame, and he needed her to stay in the middle — to watch, to calculate, to observe. Because this was her role. In regards to helping Shino, she had to do everything in her power to make the Inuzuka trust him.
For whatever reason, he decided this course of action would be the most beneficial.
". . . Yes."
And who was she to deny him that?
…
"Gaah." Kiba had been pacing at the mouth of the cave for twenty minutes. His head would swing out to look upon the land of District 6, and upon no sightings of any Shino-esque people climbing up his grand mountain, he'd spit and pace a few more steps before swinging his head out again. "Damn those — even when you're the one callin' for war, it's always the Aburame who are late to these kinds of things."
The main room of the enormous cave was oddly empty. Most of the Inuzuka clan had run off after Kiba had barked at them to get things prepared. Hinata, personally, was a bit worried as to what getting things 'prepared' entailed, and she wasn't about to snoop around to find out. She stayed right at Shino's side, watching Kiba pace, frequently gandering about the cave for any signs of Sasuke.
"We Aburame take time in things delicate."
"Ah, shut it, Shino," Kiba yapped, tearing at his right ear. "Damn it. Damn it! I should have smelled this shit a mile away. Of course you bastards would pull this kind of thing when the Guard are at our base."
"Foolish the man to pass essential —"
"Again with that bullshit, Shino." He turned, as if to say more, but his ears perked and turned to the outside world, and Kiba snapped back into action. "Ah, finally!"
There was a ferocious buzz that echoed in the icy wind outside — and, actually, if Hinata thought about it a little more, it was most definitely coming from the bodyguard at her side, as well. Over the edge of the cliff came the tall, four-armed, antenni-baring forms of the Aburame clan.
...
There was something calling about them. Not the odd number of arms that hauled wicker baskets into the mouth of the cave. Not the antenni. Hinata was used to all that, already.
Maybe it was the eyes. They were completely black, but they followed movement, so they were definitely seeing. Underneath his weeds, is that was Shino's eyes looked like?
Maybe it was how, when catching arms with Shino in greeting, the sounds that came from their mouths were no words or language she understood. It was clicking, of sorts, that pitched with every phrase they seemed to say. When her bodyguard spoke back, there was not that strain in his throat, like he was struggling to utter even a syllable.
Hinata, really, could not put a finger on what it was about the Aburame clan that seemed so interesting to her. Maybe, after being even a short while with the Inuzuka, seeing people who were not so doggish was now a wonder to her.
...
War, to most people, signified fighting. Bloodshed. Death and destruction. People would be hurt. Families would be ruined.
Based off of how the Inuzuka were dressed — decked in bone armor that protected their chests and upper arms, with leather padding on their legs and fur shawls cloaked over their shoulders — they probably had the same definition of war as Hinata did.
But the Aburame . . .
Well.
Hinata did not remember everything about her time in Moon 2 with her family. She remembered the general structure of her house, and she remembered the trains that set their course through the forever-night sky.
And there was also something there, a bit covered in the dust of her memory, that caught her present mind. There was a sort of regalness to Moon 2. A sort of nobility. Hinata could almost feel the hem of an afternoon gown kiss the tops of her knees, the tightness of her hair tied in a bun. She could feel the cushion of the armchair in a bright, glowing room and hear the murmur of pleasantries, the song of a piano, the flips of an aged story.
The Aburame were dressed as if they had come from Moon 2, straight out of her yellowed, blurry memory.
And that — well, that wasn't at all the right attire for war.
And to see the two clans stood in a line, facing one another, chins high and gazes challenging and unwavering — to see them so close and yet looking so vastly different — if circumstances were different and Hinata was not so shakably nervous, she would have laughed.
"Come, Moon Witch." Shino was at the front of the line, and he swept an arm back for her to understand that he wanted her to stand next to him. The cream of his sweeping sleeve was an inviting sight, and she came to him without even realizing her feet were taking her across the rocky floor.
Across from her, Kiba cracked a grin. "Mistletoe's an Aburmae then, huh?" He shook his head wildly, hair flying all over the place. "Doesn't matter to me. You're still one short."
Ah, yes, that's right. Sasuke had still yet to come back.
But Shino didn't have even an iota of worry on his face. Over her head, he clicked to one of the other Aburame members, and their antenni curled close to their head as he wiped the wrinkles out of the front of his silver tunic.
When Hana came with Akumaru towering behind her, everyone bowed until the large beast was sat at the front of the two lines. His tail thumped against the floor, and everyone stood straight once more.
"As the winners of last year," Hana said to the Aburame, "you get to choose the procedure for this battle. We have already prepared sections of our mighty and superior base for all allowed and given choices. Decide wisely."
Shino stepped forward, and Hinata realized that — of course — he already had it all decided.
"Seventeen."
It was just a number, but the moment he announced it, the entirety of the Inuzuka howled with frustration. Some of the members already began to tear off their chest plates and threw them onto the ground.
"Damn it!"
"I knew it! I told you they'd choose seventeen!"
"Fuck — I haven't bathed in weeks!"
"We're screwed!"
"Fuck off with that!" Kiba barked at them, and the Inuzuka automatically snapped their jaws shut and stood straight. He broke out of his spot in line, passing a look Shino's way, before standing in front of his other, eight members. "Don't show 'em your week side. We have time to prepare. You two — you're on cooking duty. The next three will be serving, so do something about the hair, men. The rest of us are on the main stage, so I suggest running for the baths now. Hana —"
Hana was already marching down a path that led into another set of caves. "On it."
Kiba's grin was like Shino's face — absolutely certain. And when he turned back to the Aburame as his group scattered about the place, the panic of the Inuzuka seemed more like a rumor with him as their face.
"Good try, Shino," he laughed, "but no matter what, the Inuzuka are fighters."
…
Each team was given ten minutes to prepare, but Hinata didn't even know what she was preparing for.
"Shino, I —" She almost lost her breath when speaking to him. Hinata hadn't realized her heart was beating so rapidly. "I-I'm sorry, but I don't have a clue what's happening here. What does seventeen mean?"
At the moment, Shino had been discussing something with his clan members, their language so vastly beyond her that she couldn't even pick up context clues on what they could possibly be discussing. When she fumbled up to them, his face turned just an inch her way, and he must have seen her complete anxiety with the entire situation, for he gave a short excuse to his members before turning to her.
"All is well."
"The Inuzuka are getting ready," she said, "but I don't even know what to get ready for."
His upper-right hand took her shoulder, as if to steady her. "This war with Inuzuka. Seventeen homes battle of nobility. Etiquette. Hospitality." His voice lowered and stopped for a moment as he tried to think of his next words. "All skill is homed in Moon Witch. Understand?"
She tried to follow along, but it was a little difficult.
"Are we fighting?" He shook his head. She thought for a moment longer. "A battle of nobility? Are we riding horses? Are we jousting?"
Shino's mouth pursed, understanding she was not following his words, and moved his hands in such a way, as if he was tipping something over — or — or pouring something.
. . . Wait.
"Tea?" she asked. "A tea party?"
His head swayed back and forth, telling her she was mostly right, and suddenly, all of her dread disappeared.
"But . . . you said this was a war."
"Yes," he said.
A tea party — war?
"Years two ago," one of the other Aburame piped in, antennae flicking with interest, "with Inuzuka choosers, war was wrestling in mud."
"Nasty, was it," another one muttered, and Shino nodded with him.
Trying to smile, Hinata looked down at her clothes, holding up the corners of her cloak and fanning it out to show off the dust and dirt on her clothes. "I didn't bring anything terribly formal. I'm sorry."
Shino raised a hand, stopping her fretful train of thought. "All well, Moon Witch."
He kept saying that, and she kept trying to believe him.
But, really, no matter how she looked at it, there was no way her attire was going to get their team any chance of winning.
...
It took a great deal of navigating through the maze of rock and moss to find that there was, indeed, a back entrance to the secure hideout of the Inuzuke. The ledge it led out to was, indeed, quite spectacular in regards to its overall flatness and lack of sudden, treacherous cliffs like the front entrance had. The view, of course, was nearly just the same — a wide view of a winter tundra. The thin cluster of trees below were capped with white blankets and swayed in a wind that should have been felt quite well at such a high escalation; but upon further inspection, Hinata found that a bit of the mountain lined the ledge, acting as a wall the block them from the howling winds that would bite ice into their joints.
Out set in the middle of the ledge was what Hinata could only describe as the most un-Inuzuka thing possible. It looked something like a gazebo made of polished, untouched marble and beige, slanted tiles that dipped in a fashionable sense down the roof to hang by the pillars. Two of the gazebo's sides were closed off by a white, spindly fence that looped and curled with exquisite detail. The two other sides that were open for entry and exit were accompanied with white half-stairs, and on either side of each staircase stood a painted, tall, ceramic pot.
The wood of the gazebo's floor was freshly swept and almost sparkling. The round table inside was dressed in a long, creme cloth that fluttered when a bit of wind managed past the mountain's wall. The backs of the chairs had the same design as the gazebo fences, and Hinata wanted very much to just run her hand along it to feel the smooth craftsmanship.
But the chance was not given to her, for a tan set of hands took the sides of the chair and pulled it out from under the table. She nearly jumped, but desperately kept herself at bay. The war had started. She had to act her best.
"Thank you." She looked up, and to her utter surprise, the cunning gaze of Kiba Inuzuka was what met her. It was a surprise she recognized him. Where was that nest of hair, wild and knotted? Where were the smears of dust on the underside of his jaw? He looked positively lovely — not to say that his more feral side was anything to insult. She just — he just — it was simply a shock.
"Mistletoe." His voice dropped that husky growl that gnawed at his every word, instead melting into the air between them like cool, smooth ice. "Won't you take your seat?"
How could a voice hold so much charm? Hadn't, just the day before, the very man before her snarled at her like a wolf aiming to rip her throat apart? Hinata, in no part of her mind, found any question as to why he was in such a sudden, generous, gentlemanly mood — as stated prior, the war had begun, and he had made it abundantly clear that the Inuzuka did not take things like this lightly. In fact, she had expected this to come from him. Really.
But the silly expectations in her mind really did not aid in preparing her for the reality of it all.
Again, only a soft thanks could pass her as she took Kiba's offering, sweeping the cape of her cloak close to her legs as she sat, as if it were the skirt of a dress. Somehow, she didn't even register her doing so — it just happened. Like walking. Like breathing.
Shino had said for her to not worry because these sorts of noble wars were a part of her, and Hinata, herself, had fleeting images of such a life crossing the canvas of her mind. Maybe she was safe to put some ease into such an idea.
Her smile was thankful as Kiba pushed in her chair for her. He played the part well — it seemed almost natural for him. She wondered if he had some noble blood in him, perhaps; but that was a question for another time.
When he turned, she caught a glance at something, and her hand left the dip of her lap to gently touch the side of his right one. "Kiba," she called softly, "a moment."
He stopped, smile still charming and a tad boyish, but the curl in the corners of his eyes told her he was expecting and awaiting any trick she may try to play upon him. Her hand that had touched his then moved to hover about seven inches away from his shoulder, palm outstretching, coaxing him closer. He did so with a lag of curiosity, chin dipping as he craned himself to her level. With him like that, she was able to reach the fringe of hair that had fallen out of place due to the wind, taking the end of it and tucking it behind his elongated ear.
Her jaw nearly dropped as a handful of stickers instantly fell onto the pale tablecloth, smoldering and smoking; but, again, she kept her obnoxious reactions to herself and kept her smile steady.
"There," she said, pulling her hand away from him to settle it back on her lap after subtly brushing the weeds to the floor, "just a simple fix. You're fine to carry on now."
When he stood back into a straight posture, his movements were a little jerky, and he left her to find his own chair on the other side of the table. To her right, Shino sat with a slightly pressed napkin in his lap, and the impressed tip of his upper lip was all Hinata needed to see.
...
There was a game to gatherings of nobility. Hinata was almost sure someone had told her that, once. An aunt, maybe, or a second-cousin.
Because there were two sides to most games.
The most obvious was the side where you, the player, showed off your skill. You played your best. You leaned on your strengths and paved the path in the right direction. Ladies regarded things with no upturn in their gaze, and especially no startling mockery. Gentlemen kept from ruffling their attire and jolting their legs with impatient ticks.
And in the case of Hana Inuzuka, she kept the conversation lively and pleasant as the table waited for their brunch to be served.
"Weather on such days is such a rare occurrence," she hummed to her brother, but her tone was definitely loud enough for everyone to hear. "It's such a joy to see the sun out. I'm really drawn to believe it came out just for this reason."
The table hummed in agreement, and that was when Hinata found herself trapped in the black abyss of her gaze.
"But I do hope," she said, voice even more pitched, intending to grasp everyone's attention and point it in the right direction, "that you aren't too hot being out on such a nice day, Mistletoe."
The other side of the game, however, was perhaps the most important.
To win, not only must you hold yourself high, but you must also kick your enemies down.
Hinata had been astutely aware that, yes, her garb was absolutely not appropriate for such occasions. A cloak covered in dirt. Cuffed pants with threads sticking out and tickling the upper swell of her ankles. Bulky shoes that took up too much space under the table. The Inzuka had ten minutes to comb their matted hair and wash the grime under their long claws, and they managed it flawlessly.
Hinata — she — she had nothing.
But Hana wanted her to feel that shame. She wanted the table to take notice and let it weigh down their heads for the rest of the meal.
So Hinata kept her gaze steady and her smile light. "There's a breeze to keep me cool, thank you."
Hana looked ready to say more her way, but the subtle shift of her brother's arm made her mouth slowly close, and she hummed before regarding the table once more. Perhaps no one else noticed, but Hinata saw the stickers on her neck rumble as she carefully pressed a hand to her hair, checking it, making sure nothing was out of place.
...
Eye contact was a tricky part of the equation.
When one spoke, they were expected to take the entire table into account, not pausing too long one one person to make them feel uncomfortable, yet not skipping past them too quickly in case they feel forgotten.
But with Hinata — it was a tad difficult.
Her hood had to stay on. She couldn't reveal her face to them so freshly and willingly, especially since there were clear signs connecting them to her stalker.
But this also meant she was acting terribly rude on her part, keeping her gaze bowed so often, like a meek mouse.
"It couldn't be more than a few more minutes," one of the Inuzuka women said as she skimmed her empty plate with fleeting hunger in the depths of her deep brown irises. Then, her gaze turned to the empty seat next to Hinata — the only empty one at the table. "It would be a terrible shame if he wasn't here for the meal. I have no doubt the food will be borderline superb."
It was also terribly rude when a guest was late to the table, and Hinata found herself checking Shino's face for the uptenth time since sitting down at the table. His stickers looked the same as they usually did, and there was no tightness in his square shoulders or the line of his fingers.
"Not a worry," he said with a voice that barely held any of that usual strain. She couldn't imagine how difficult such a feat must be. "The Aburame only arrive when time's best."
He had complete trust in Sasuke, and Hinata relaxed a tad in the back of her chair. From what she understood, the food being brought out to them was made by some other members of the two clans, and Shino had explained earlier that they will be tasting the opposite team's food being served by the opposite team's waiters and waitresses. Everything, down to the very taste of the food, determined who would be the winner of this war. So if one person was not around to taste a plate, that was one less person who could potentially give them the lead they needed.
Because Hinata was quite aware how she affected the table.
Her clothes, her bowed looks — what a hindrance she was.
But negative talk would do her no good, of course! She'd do best in pushing such thoughts aside and focusing on what she did best.
Smile. Speak softly and politely, but with purpose. Move gently. Move smoothly. Your hands go here, and your head does this when you talk.
This was the game.
This —
"Oh, I think I hear the approach of the servers."
Everyone turned with their expectation set on the mouth of the cave.
But it wasn't a group of servers that came from the shadows and dust, but rather —
"Oh."
There came Sasuke Uchiha, looking nothing like himself.
...
Hinata tried to remember the Sasuke she spoke with just that morning. Those weren't his clothes. That wasn't his signature, slightly-singed cloak. When he walked and the breeze picked up, his hair only wafted slightly, but his arms did not have to move from his side to push any stands out of his face. Gone were his bleak gloves, the white shine of his hands now capturing the attention of everyone as he came up the stairway of the gazebo, passed perfectly behind the chairs on the Aburame side, and stilled a hold on the very edge of Hinata chair before he could even begin to sit down.
She looked up just in time to feel the fabric around her face dip back. She would have panicked if she wasn't so keenly aware that it was, indeed, the works of Sasuke that caused her face to be exposed for everyone to see — every Inuzuka, every Aburame.
Wait! she wanted to yell. Sasuke, wait!
But he didn't, and the hood was draped over her shoulders, and his hands brushed against her face as he pulled her hair out from under her cloak to let it settle around her.
"There you go," was all that he said, and then he sat in that once empty chair and made the table feel absolutely congested.
...
Really, Hinata was beyond relieved for her magic.
Because with it, she was able to see the layer of weeds most of the ladies at the table gained upon the entrance of the illusive Sasuke Uchiha. Of course, being as it were stickers coming to their faces, the reaction was not that of a good one, she was sure.
But to know she wasn't the only one astoundly affected by him — well —
It helped.
It made things just a little less embarrassing.
...
Silly was the thought, but — but it looked more like what Neji would wear. She couldn't get the thought out of her head. Whenever the drifting image of her cousin passed behind the backs of the tight and somewhat startled Inuzuka faces before her, she would try to imagine him in the exact clothes Sasuke wore at that moment.
The white flow of the undershirt would definitely bring out his eyes, she was sure, and he would have every one of the three buttons at the front of the collar fastened, while Sasuke chose to have just one loose at the top to show just a hint more of his neck. The maroon waistcoat, as well, would bring color to Neji's pale face, giving it more livelihood that would properly fit such an occasion. And when he walked, as Sasuke had done with such power just before, the black coat with gold-touched cuffs that had a sweeping tail that curved from the front would act like a cape, flapping, flowing, following.
Yes, Neji would be quite fit to wear such an outfit.
But . . . that didn't mean Sasuke didn't look absolutely handsome.
Even the table could hardly fathom it. The banter from Hana's end of the table had been quiet for a good while. Shock was still settling in, it seemed — which could only be a good thing in regards to the Aburame.
"Our food will be out soon," she said with a delicate tone in Sasuke's direction, as if she were not affected, as if nothing about him affected her. "I'm glad you could make it."
His eyes flashed her way, but he did not speak.
Hana had finally found her voice. "Yes," she said, unable to hide the slight twist of her lips, "that would be a shame. I'm sure our cooks have been working quite diligently on our meal."
"That, I can agree on." His words were fluid, like a stream. They did not pull back with hesitation. They did not hum on the backs of his teeth and wait there, wondering, wondering when it was the best time to be set free. He just spoke. And the stillness of his stickers showed her that he was completely confident, despite what Hana was trying to paint him as. "Rather than my passing thoughts on the work of the cooks, as I knew quite well the stress of their job, I was more so taken with readying myself properly to be here. Of course, you can understand how it may take me a little more than just ten minutes to clean myself up."
What was he doing?
He was coming off too pointed. She watched Kiba's ears twitch with indignation, and Hana's lids shook as she struggled to keep them open and relaxed.
"But wouldn't you say, Thor Warrior, that such a problem falls more on you?" Her voice was a tad clipped, though not nearly as pointed as what would be expected from being insulted in front of the table. "After all, if it took you so long to clean yourself up, then I wouldn't like to imagine what your state of person was before having to do such."
Hinata's fingers curled in her cloak, worried, but Sasuke's face did not change.
"You misunderstand me," he drawled. "The problem was not what my state of person was, but rather that when something is asked of me, I do not complete it half-heartedly."
Under the table, she heard Kiba kick his foot into the leg of his chair, and the stickers on his neck were flaring. The other Inuzuka matched his struggle in keeping their anger to themselves, and Hana's mouth hung open a small amount, as if begging for any word to come from it.
Alright. Sasuke knew what he was doing — and she supposed that shouldn't be a shock to her with the amount of times he and her had had such types of meals in Sun 1 with Naruto and the Sun Nobles.
But, still, to leave it there just seemed unfair.
"It's a difference in definition," she tried to explain, back tilting away from her chair. "I think both Sasuke and the Inuzuka did well in dressing and preparing for the occasion." Her tongue swelled in protest — really, she shouldn't be doing this. She was just helping the Inuzuka win. But the amount of stickers she was seeing made her sick, and she could not just sit back and let everything slide past her. "Just look around us. This is a fabulous venue, and as Hana had mentioned before, the weather really could not be better. Kiba, you mentioned before that the Inuzuka were skilled in pottery. I'm so inclined to believe the ones around us were made by the very same hands, yes?"
Kiba didn't say a word, the darks of his eyes widening a bit at the sudden change in conversation. One of the lady Inuzuka next to him, however, gestured a shoulder to one of the tall pots by the front of the gazebo.
"I painted that one," she said. "It took me three days to finish it. I even made the paints myself."
Hinata smiled. "Your linework is so steady. I couldn't go a moment without my hands shaking."
"It really is a matter of breathing. Moving your hand at certain points of breath is the key to it all."
"I hope you wouldn't mind showing me where you make and paint them one of these days. I'm embarrassed to say I wouldn't even know how to start when it comes to pottery."
A rough laugh escaped Kiba, and his lips peeled back to show off his sharp canines as he grinned. "Really," he said, losing a bit of the stiffness in his shoulders, "what's with that?"
Her heart relaxed and sighed, and she listened in as the conversation continued on as Shino inquired more about the pottery industry in Forest 6. A side of her was nervous to look in Sasuke's direction, scared she'd found a disappointed gaze staring back at her for messing up his hard work in beating the Inuzuka down.
It was part of the game. She knew it was.
But that didn't mean she had to play a part in it, as well.
But when she did find her confidence and stole a look his way, nothing about him showed any signs of anger or annoyance.
In fact, the smrk in his eyes sent lava right in her stomach — and she wished — she wished desperately — that all of those stickers on his face would just vanish so that she could see all of him, every bit of his face, from the top of his forehead to the curve of his mouth to the edge of his jaw.
...
The servers soon came with their silver platters and trays full of food and drink.
Hinata made sure to watch closely as the waitress placed Sasuke food in front of him, and when she dipped her glass spout to fill Sasuke cup with water, his hand brushing over hers when stopping her was purposeful.
"That's enough," he said, voice light and kind, "thank you."
And, again, a pile of dark weeds wrapped over the woman's cheeks as she quickly backed away. Goodness, the Inuzuka really hated him. No matter what he tried, it didn't seem to work.
Once the food was down and the servers stood behind to watch, the people at the table began to eat, silverware just scraping against the plattery as they cut into their meal and ate one, small fork-full at a time.
Really, from all that Hinata could tell, everyone seemed to have good manners. They were using the right forks and spoons for the right dishes, made sure to dab out their mouths with their napkins every now and then, and were sure to chew and swallow before even trying to utter a word.
But just across the table, she caught sight of Kiba holding his glass incorrectly, his hand far too south when, for this particular shape of cup, it was proper to hold it near the lips.
Stomach twisting, Hinata subtly scooted on the edge of her chair so that her foot could just reach the toe of his foot. Kiba blinked upon her light touch, eyes flashing her way. She grabbed her own glass properly, making sure he got a clear view of how her fingers wrapped around the top, before taking a sip, hoping he understood.
And he did, for he fixed his hold and flashed her a smile — one she could not help but match.
...
There were little complaints on either side of the table about the food, and once everyone was done, the servers took the empty plates and dirty silverware and replaced them with teacups and a white, ceramic pot that sat in the middle, steam twirling about its spout.
Thus came the finale to the war as everyone was prompted to cleanse their palate with tea.
However, it was expected for one of the guests at the table to pour the tea for everyone, and as the hosts, the Aburame would have to decide who was best to do such a task.
"Really," Hana piped, fingers just touching the edge of the table, "I'd love if dear Mistletoe would do us the honor of pouring our tea for us."
And that was expected of her, as well as from the Inuzuka who agreed from her. She had, after all, admitted just a short while ago that her hands shook too much to paint, and the sleeves of her cloak were much too long. Of course they'd wish for her to pour the tea.
But it would be rude to refuse.
How was she to go about this —
"I should."
Sasuke stood long before that sentence escaped him — or, perhaps, the whole table was too shocked to hear it until he was already grabbing the pot from the middle. He rounded his chair and made his way to the side of the Inuzuka.
Hana followed him with a narrow gaze. "Really, Thor Warrior, it would be best if —"
"Would it?" He leaned close to her, left arm just mere centimeters from touching her right shoulder, as he held the pot of her cup. "I was late. This is the least I could do." And with a lower voice that was barely loud enough for anyone else to hear, he added, "Don't you think, Inuzuka?"
And so he poured, one hand on the handle of the teapot as the other hugged the side, keeping it steady. The bronze, steaming tea filled the cup, the sound tranquil and smooth, and he pulled away before it could overflow or spill onto the table.
And when he pulled away, Hana's face was once again clear in Hinata's point of view. Dark stickers clung onto the peaks of her cheeks, her eyes scrunched and swimming, and Hinata felt her heart fall into her stomach.
...
After it was all finally finished, the group left the gazebo and made their way back into the cave. Hinata snapped her hood back over her face the moment her feet found the rocky floor, gut still curtling at the idea that so many people had seen her face so openly.
Really — what had Sasuke been thinking?
Really.
. . . Really.
...
They sat on their knees before Akumaru, who lapped and gnawed at his left paw, tail padding against the floor in a calm rhythm. Now that she had thought about it, she wasn't too sure how the winner would be announced and who would decide that. It couldn't be any of the people participating, but that only left the other Inuzuka, and they would surely pick their team as the victor.
But now, with her there on her knees, she supposed it was Akumaru who would decide. Kiba had assured the Aburame team that he was a great, unbiased leader who had watched the entire tea party closely, and that was all Hinata could go off on.
So, for a while, they waited.
Akumaru licked, then pulled his nose away from his paw, sniffed, yawned, then barked.
All of the Inuzuka instantly fell to the floor.
"FUCK!"
"I can't believe this!"
"Our third loss in a row!"
"Boss!" They cried. "Boss, why!"
Really, Hinata felt like collapsing with them, though for entirely different reasons. Her knees were completely useless, but she watched as the Aburame surrounding her stood, antenni tall and proud.
"Celebration will come," Shino said to her, smile pleasant.
Kiba, next to him, shook his head viciously, ridding his hair of that clean, fresh comb. "Fuck your celebration!" he yapped, then snarled. "Damn it! We were so close!"
Somehow, she couldn't help but laugh.
He sounded more like himself now, no longer keeping his voice low with pleasantries and niceties. All the other Inuzuka followed suit, cursing up a storm and already collecting dirt and grime on their clothes.
A bit of strength came back to her legs, and when she stood, she spun around. "Sasuke, we —"
But he was not there.
He was nowhere to be found.
The springs were, thankfully, not that far away, nor so awkwardly placed so that it would be easy for someone unaccustomed with the layout of the caves to miss it.
As the Aburame had decided to begin the happy celebration of their win in the heart of the Inuzuka hideout — a tradition, Hinata had heard, that had been held for the past fifty years — she had found herself quite sticky with the worried sweats of the day. No longer able to ignore it for the good of the tea party, she had clasped Shino's sleeve to inform him of where she needed to go, and he had led her halfway there before telling her the directions for the rest of the way.
Turning right, two doors stood in the carved mouth of a side cave, and Hinata pushed them open and met steam and humidity and warmth to her face. It was so very different from the winter chill outside, no matter if the sun was out or not, and Hinata blew a relieved breath as she came inside and began to work off her heavy cloak.
The inside springs bloomed with clear, clean water, and there had to be at least ten of them, all captured within small borders of rock that served as pathways and walls between them.
Hinata hadn't gotten more than several footsteps inside when she heard the sound of crashing water and gruffing. Stopping by a wall that separated the main room from the small entryway where the doors stood, she looked inside and found three Inuzuka women inside, their dresses piled without care on the floor as she dipped their heads into the spring water, pulled out, and shook and sprayed water everywhere.
"It really was all the fault of that damn Guard," one of them whined, wiping some of her damp, brown hair out of her eyes so that she could look at the others. "Seriously, the hell was he thinking? If it hadn't been Seventeen, I would have strangled him."
The woman next to her slipped from the rocks and submerged herself into the warm water. She captured water in her big hands and rubbed it on her shoulders, laughing. "From what I saw, you definitely did want to strangle him." Hinata couldn't see her face well, but parts of her voice fluttered with amusement. "But I doubt that Thor Warrior is into that sort of thing."
The first woman balked. "Fuck you!"
"No, I think you mean fuck him."
The third woman sat on a round rock a little ways away, wagging her legs to get the perspiration off of them. Hinata recognized her as one of the Inuzuka servers — the one that had half of her face almost covered in weeds when Sasuke's hand touched hers.
"It's a damn shame," she said, mostly to herself. The other two looked at her, and she continued. "The pretty ones are always the most fragile."
The second one snorted and dipped her head back into the water. "Fragile? Remember, he's a Guard. He's anything but!"
"But his hands!" the first one barked. "I could crush them. No problem!"
At that, the third one yelped and hid her face behind her hands. "I think he was flirting with me."
"What!?"
"Bullshit!"
"Listen — listen — when I was pouring him water, he reached out and grabbed my hand. On purpose. It was on purpose!"
"Oh, Gods," the first one groaned, "you got it bad."
"And she's not the only one," the second one laughed.
Slowly, Hinata pulled away from the wall, backing away so that she could reach the door without them hearing her. Cleaning up was suddenly the farthest thing from her mind.
So . . . So I was wrong.
When she had seen the growing stickers before, she had thought it was because they hated him. But she should have realized — stickers could mean a whole array of things. Anger, fear, discomfort, anxiety —
"You know, no matter if we want to or not, we can't. He's a Guard."
"Yeah, but that's where half the thrill comes from."
The whole reason Sasuke Uchiha had come was to use his magic to get closer to the Inuzuka clan.
And from what Hinata could tell, it was working.
...
It was a chore to find him, because one of the last places she looked was the most obvious one. He wasn't in the main caves, he wasn't at the front or back entrance, he wasn't with Akumaru.
He was in their room. Of course.
"S-Sasuke." And she was nearly out of breath, to the point of a whole, new sheet of sweat gathering along the back of her neck when she pushed herself into the small, dark room. He had been looming over his bed, hooking and securing his cloak about him. She nearly wondered if he had changed clothes again, but under the black fabric, she was able to catch sight of the red waistcoat and gold cuffs. His brows drew together upon her sudden and exasperated entrance, and his hands paused at his chest as his focus turned on her. She breathed, gulped, and said, "Sasuke, I-I think it's working."
His eyelashes thinned a fraction in question. "What is?"
Hinata swept her own cloak away from her arms so that she could pull up the sleeves of her blouse, suddenly feeling entirely too hot. "Whatever you're doing — or, well, I know what you're doing, and it's working. I just overheard some of the women talking about you, and you've definitely caught their interest. I — I had thought at first they absolutely despised you because of all the stickers I was seeing, which is why I hadn't said a word before. I'm sorry. But I understand now. They —"
"Moon Witch," he cut in, tone void of anything that could reveal the state of mind her revolution had given him. But the twist of his brows had turned from concerned to quizzical, and he returned to working on fastening his cloak. "So you can see it?"
Her tongue went dry, but she still managed a light, "Yes."
"Good." Finished, he left the side of his bed that lay haphazardly on the rocky cave floor and made his way to her. "Then I'll need you to be my eyes."
"Of course."
They left the small cave and traveled down the empty tunnel. "I guess he was right, then." Upon her confused gander, he continued. "Shino was the one who told me to come late. A separate entrance from the rest was sure to gain me more attention, don't you think?"
Ah, so that was why. Still, Hinata couldn't believe that him being late was the only cause for such wild attraction from the Inuzuka.
"Perhaps," she said, "but it's also true that you also look very handsome." Immediately, his head snapped her way, and her own words rang in her ears and sent fire into her face. "Sorry. I just heard the women say that."
Sasuke didn't say a word. His hand only lifted from his side to touch the back of her shoulder and keep them both on the correct path. His fingers did not do anything — they just stayed still and there — but they felt like arrows digging into her skin, their heads finding her veins and dripping boiled poison into her bloodstream.
Because she couldn't help thinking about it — about what those women had said about him, his hands.
...
Celebrations, she heard, could last up to three days.
Hinata wasn't sure if that was beneficial to the Guard or not.
All she knew was that the Aburame worked fast. The desolate, eerie cave was suddenly filled with life. It seemed as though more of the clan had come upon hearing of their victory, and with them, they brought tables and instruments and food and flowers. A band was already set up near the back wall, the members dressed in long, fuschia coats and blue gloves. The tables were lined with all different kinds of fruits and cheeses and breads — there was even an entire section just for different cuts of meats, which Hinata suspected was entirely for the pleasure of the Inuzuka.
The baskets that had be brought before were emptied, revealing the bottles upon bottles of wine, champagne, rum, and other kinds of liquor. There was an Aburame stationed to the side, behind a makeshift counter, all four of his hands in the middle of shaking up and serving drinks to the hoard of depressed and disappointed Inuzuka about him.
It wasn't even sun down, and it was already like this.
With most of the Inuzuka out of their fancy outfits, Hinata felt a little less self-conscious about the drab she wore; though, still with such an amiable event taking place, she would have liked to wear something even a little more dressy. But she tried to not let it bother, instead spending all of her focus on the women surrounding one Sasuke Uchiha.
He had, of course, come to the party. With most of them tipsy and growing more drunk by the minute, their lips were becoming more and more loose, their tongues more and more willing to spill exactly what Sasuke wanted to hear — if tempted, of course.
And tempt, he did.
She watched it all from across the floor. With some, he ordered them drinks. With others, he kept his hand on their back for a second longer when moving them away from someone bulldozing past. He acted generally aloof with some, prompting them to take the first move, chasing him about the room as he walked this way and that, pretending to find interest in the foods of the table or the conversations of the party. Then, at times, he egged them one, lowering his ear to their mouth when they spoke to him, relaxing his body language to make them feel more at ease around him.
And every time, he'd look to Hinata, and she would either nod if she saw the heavy weeds on the women's faces collect or shake her head to inform him that he had to move to a different tactic.
When the music started up, that was when women would start grabbing his hands and pulling him into a dance. And he would.
And, my, he was good at that, too.
Yes, Sasuke Uchiha knew exactly what he was doing.
But no matter how many times Hinata told herself such, the unease in her belly would not disappear.
...
An hour in, she caught a glance of Shino making his way to the band, his antenni pointing to the right despite his face finding hers among the crowd.
She followed them and found Kiba lounging on a pile of furs to the side, a brown bottle in his hand that he would awkwardly lift to his mouth to lick at from time to time. Understanding, Hinata left her secluded spot to come to Kiba's side, dipping down so that her knees just barely touched the furs as she sat with him.
His black irises slid across the white canvas of his eyes, and his immediate response upon seeing her was not a snarl or a bark, but rather a shockingly big smile.
"I would ask if ya came to laugh at me," he murmured against the lips of his bottle, "but you ain't that kind, huh, Mistletoe?"
She made sure he was able to see her small smile as she said, "I'm sorry for the loss of the Inuzuka today, Kiba. I think you all did wonderfully."
"We definitely tried our damndest. That sort of shit ain't our strong suit, thought — but, well, I guess you already knew that."
"Next time, I'm sure you will win."
He barked in laughter. "Of course, we will!" He placed his bottle down on a flat area of the ground where it would not tip over and spill, and he straightened himself before looking at her once again. "But I'd venture to say — well, for at least this one — the Aburame deserved the win. You were too kind to us, Mistletoe. I think Boss saw that."
She held out the hem of her cloak and laughed. "Maybe, but wearing this definitely didn't help."
Kiba snorted. "What, what? You look fine to me." His sigh was long and heavy, and he must have heard it and gotten absolutely pissed at the miserable sound, for his back leg lifted to scratch agitatedly behind his ear. "Damn it — shit! I fucking hate losing! "
The music paused, and Hinata took a quick glance back to find that Shino was talking to some of the members. She saw that he was holding a violin in one pair of hands and a guitar in the other, their strings glowing in the light of the torches.
When it started up again, the song was quick and lively, and many grey faces of the Inuzuka lifted up and hooted and howled. Even Kiba suddenly had light in his eyes, though his still looked annoyed as hell.
"That bastard," he barked. "He can't just let me wallow in my fuckin' grief — now he's gotta play my favorite song of all fuckin' things!" He stood, left knee wobbling a tad, and he gave his bottle a sparing look before dipping down to help Hinata on her feet. "Well, if I'm dancing, I'm taking one of his teammates with me."
So Hinata laughed and went along with him, sliding past people who hopped to the melody of the music.
Because this was her mission.
Because when Shino said he knew how to get the Inuzuka talking, this is what he meant.
But mostly because Kiba Inuzuka, despite first glance, was not that terrible of a person, and she actually quite liked being with him.
...
He danced exactly as she had expected him to.
He danced in a turn that rubbed against her motor memory, for it told her to take his hand, to wrap an arm around his shoulder, to slide her foot across the floor in a sort of graceful motion that seemed far too impossible with such irregular terrain. It told her to dance like she had in Moon 2, far beyond her working memory aside from the tickle in her feet and the curve in her spine — but dancing like Moon people was not at all how the Inuzuka worked.
So Hinata allowed herself to get dragged around the place by Kiba. There was no dipping, no twirling — but he definitely swung her around and made her laugh until she was dizzy.
"Kiba!" she called into the hot air. It was so loud. People thumped and stomped and marched all around them. There was howling. There was cheering. She couldn't even hear herself breathe. "Kiba, you're going to run me into the ground!"
In response, he grabbed her hips and lifted her until her hands acted as feet that balanced her on the bones of his shoulders, and he spun her around and made her more dizzy until she couldn't distinguish a single face about her. Her hands slipped up his neck and got caught in his mane, which still had not collected nearly as many knots as she had expected it to. His ears sprung out from his skull, and he looked up at her, grinning.
"Kiba!" she laughed. "Kiba, please!"
Finally, he let her down, and she lost balance in her legs and fell into him, giggling into the front of his shirt,. His hands stayed on her shoulders, allowing her to lean into him and catch her breath.
"I'm so sorry," she gasped, lungs burning.
He shook his head. "What for? You did nothing wrong."
"I'm sorry I was so scared of you." Her chest expanded with air, hot and boiling, thrumming with the cacophony in the room. He smelled like earth and snow, and it helped her calm down. "I can't believe I was so nervous to come here."
"Well, we kinda portray ourselves to be scary, y'know? Means less people come to mess with us." He turned the both away from them from a crowd of boys passing by, dancing away, keeping her from getting knocked off her feet. "But I'm glad you're fine now. You're not too bad, either."
It was like her heart was sprouting petals that took up her entire chest. She felt full — full and satisfied.
"I'm so glad." Finally finding her energy, she stood and pulled her face away from him, finding his light gaze again. "Because . . . before, I know you weren't very fond of me."
"That wasn't really your fault," he explained. "We just — well, we've had a history with your kind before."
"Moon people, you mean," she whispered.
"Yeah. You remember how Akumaru was when you got here. He hardly let a single person near him." His shoulder nudged for her to look to the side, where the large creature sat near the fire pit in the front, enjoying many pets from members of the Inuzuka clan. "Now look at him — he's back to his old self. Well, it all first changed for him when that guy who smelled like you came around."
Hinata felt a wisp of winter tumble through the cave. Another connection between her and the Inuzuka. The more she heard about this person that caused so much trouble for them, the more she was willing to believe her stalker really was from Moon.
"Did you know him beforehand?" she asked. "Was he an enemy of yours?"
Kiba's jaw set. "No. I hadn't seen that damn guy once in my life. All I know is that he's the reason Boss was so agitated and upset for so long, and he's the fuckin' reason why Tamaki —"
He stopped, voice gurgling down into a growl.
"Tamaki?" She knew there was something between her and them, but to hear her name so suddenly and blatantly stated by him — it made her veins freeze.
"Nothing," Kiba said, forcing a smile. "It's nothing. Just someone I knew. She . . . disappeared after the whole thing happened."
She was scared to look anywhere but his face — because if she did — she was sure — she was certain — she'd see that hollow image of Tamaki's corpse again "I'm so sorry." Instead, her gaze settled on the buzzing weeds on the side of his neck, reaching for her. "She must have been important."
Kiba pressed the back of his hand against his nose. "Something like that."
She read in one of her books that even speaking about touchy subjects could bring a bit of comfort to someone. Just finally letting it off your chest could do wonders. Whatever had happened, Kiba had kept it close and tightly bound to him for so long, and just saying a few words about her seemed to impact him greatly, despite him trying to hide it.
"Kiba," Hinata said, stepping close, "can I touch you, please?"
He gave her a look. "Huh? Touch me?"
"It's a relaxing thing I learned. It's the same thing I did with Akumaru."
His squint was curious, and he allowed her to run her hands along the side of his neck, brushing off the weeds that had clung to his skin for so long. The fizzed and fell, and his eyes widened, as if surprised.
"How do you do that?" he asked. She didn't believe she had ever heard him speak that quietly before.
"I don't know," she said, then smiled. "I wish I could have met her when I was here."
"Yeah," he murmured, "me too."
His ears stretched, picking something up, and when he turned to look at something, Hinata turned to look with him. Just a couple yards away, Hana stood, still in her scarlet dress that she had worn to the tea party. Her arms were crossed under the brown fur shawl covering her upper biceps, and the glare in her gaze was not secured or hidden like it had been earlier that day.
"Don't mind her," Kiba said to Hinata, smile returning and relaxed. "She doesn't like it when I mention what happened with that bastard. She doesn't show it, but it affected her the most."
At that, Hinata thought. It was true that Hana seemed still the strongest contender to not be a fan of her group of Guards staying at the Inuzuka base for any period of time; and, naturally, Hinata had been sure it was due to her hatred for the Guard the most of the Inuzuka could agree with. Still, she was sure it was some of that. But even as all of the Inuzuka knew of the Moon man before her that had created trouble and havoc for them, there was not nearly as much hostility thrown her way as there had been at the beginning of her coming there. Look no further than the fact that she had just danced with Kiba to prove as much.
So, for Hana to still be cautious and skeptical of her when the rest of her clan forgot their disdain — it made Hinata wonder. Was it just pure hatred, or was it before. Perhaps there was more to this Moon person that Hana and Hana alone knew, and it was that knowledge that made her currently glare daggers into Hinata's cloaked skull.
"No, Lady Hinata."
Her cousin appeared at her side, face pale and grave.
"Don't bother with her. It's not worth it."
How . . . could he say that?
It was a lead — the only standing one she had thus far. It would be silly of her to not pursue it.
Ignoring Neji, she said to Kiba, "Thank you for the dance. I think I'll go get something to drink."
"Don't get lost, Mistletoe."
She went to the table full of water glasses, eyes scanning the floor. Sasuke was still out there, dancing. When his gaze eventually found hers, she nodded her head towards Hana, who still stayed at the edge of the crowd, watching on with a straight purse to her lips. His eyes flashed like lightning when he understood, but before she could see anything else, Neji was in front of her, grimacing.
"Listen to me," he hissed. "It's not going to help you. Drop it."
Her tongue knocked into the backs of her teeth, but she sucked her words back and made sure no one was around to overhead before speaking to him. "How can you be so sure? She must know something."
"Lady Hinata."
"Even Kiba said she was the most affected. "
"Hinata!" He barked like Akumaru with his mouth full of weeds and thorns. "It doesn't concern you."
What?
Her heart roared, but she pulled back to think.
Of course it concerned her. The whole reason they were here was because of her and her stalker.
He wanted her to come home, right? Wasn't this helping her get closer and closer to reaching that? And yet — every time she thought she had gotten a step forward, he was there to stop her. Don't ask for memories about your family. Don't ask about your sister. Don't let Naruto tell you the bad news. Don't pursue Hana.
It was just exhausting. What did he want her to do?
"Neji," she begged, "I want to have my memory back. I want to live in a house where I don't feel like I'll be alone for the rest of my life. I — I just want to feel safe again. Why won't you let me have this?"
The moon in his eyes cracked, and his hands curled at his side.
"Don't," he whispered. "Don't."
But then he shook his head and closed his eyes and breathed like he was real and alive and in front of her. His face relaxed, and when he looked at her again, it was that plain, normal look of his.
"You're right," he said, "she knows something."
"Neji." But she didn't know what else to say, or how to describe this growing pain deep within her.
So, for a while, it was just his name between them.
…
She had been sitting when Sasuke came to her later on — she wasn't counting, but it had to have been over thirty minutes after she first motioned him in the direction of Hana. His cloak brushed the tip of her nose as he passed her and sat on one of the rocks behind her, leaning forward to grab her water and drink it all in one swing.
"Damn it all," he sighed into the air.
She had to try hard to not laugh even a bit. "You've been busy."
"Twenty-seven," he hissed, dropping the glass and reaching for a bottle of something spicy-smelling next. "It would have been more than that if I had said yes to all of them."
"You were keeping count?"
"Weren't you?"
She listened to him chug down the alcohol, spitting at the taste, but still going back to a second sip. "Should I be?"
No, his silence told her, but his mouth said, "That's disappointing."
"You saw I was gesturing to Hana, right?"
There was a shuffle, and he slipped from the rock behind her to sit on the ground next to her. Upon inspection of the cave, Hinata saw a few women looking open, debating whether or not to come pull Sasuke with them or not. She leaned a bit closer to him, hoping they'd understand he was busy.
"Yes," he said against the lip of the bottle. "You think she knows something?"
"She definitely knows the most about whatever happened with the Moon person that they keep mentioning."
The stickers on his face fluctuate with clear irritation, for Sasuke obviously did not have any more energy to go about flirting and charming his way into people's secrets.
"Tomorrow." He dropped his head to rest it on his arched knee. "I'll never dance again."
Hinata hesitated for a moment, then gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Take your time, Sasuke." The music was still loud and bouncing off the walls, and even as the Inuzuka drank their hearts out, the floor was still full of them. "They have so much energy, don't they?"
"I saw that one was throwing you around."
So he had seen that. Hinata didn't know why the thought made her embarrassed — or, well, she did. She just didn't want to say it out loud.
"His name is Kiba."
"I wasn't asking for his name."
"He's nice, you know." Sasuke lifted his head just enough to show her his complete unawareness that 'nice' and 'Inuzuka' could be put together, and Hinata smiled. "He was kind at the tea party, as well."
"I saw you helping him, too," Sasuke droned.
She knew he had; but, suddenly, she felt like it was wrong of her to have done such a thing now. "It was the right thing to do, wasn't it?"
"Sure."
"You think I shouldn't have?"
He stared at her for a moment, then turned towards the band. "I think you need to make up your mind."
That sounded entirely too pointed, like a thing he would say if they were still at that table under the gazebo and she was one of the Inuzuka women.
"What?"
"I'm sure you heard me."
"What do you mean?" A bit of her already had an idea, but she wanted him to say it.
Sasuke's sigh this time was nothing short of irritated, and he looked back at her, gaze thin and dark, not catching any of the firelight from within the cave. "Do you like him?"
Her ribs felt like trees — sturdy and wooden, yet so easily cut down. "Like? Like who?"
"Kiba."
Kiba? Kiba? "No!" Why would he — Kiba? She's known Kiba for two days? Did he think her the kind to fall for someone in two days? "No, I —"
"What?" Sasuke interrupted. "No, because you like someone else?"
Her hand dropped from her lap to press hard against the pebbles beneath her. "I —"
"Who is it?" He moved so his body faced her completely. "Who do you like?" Who did she like? Why did it matter? Why were they talking about this? Who did she like? But — wasn't that the question she was trying to avoid this entire time? Because a face did come to her face when she thought about it — and it scared her. It scared her terribly. Who . . . did she like? "Naruto?"
It was a trick. She knew it was a trick. But she still took it.
" . . . Yes."
His eyes flashed. "Liar."
"Sasuke," she said, voice wavering with panic, "I don't want to —"
"You don't want to do a lot of things." He didn't finish his bottle, only dropping it on the floor to let it roll away. "You think I wanted to dance with all those people? You think that was fun for me?"
"S-Sasuke —"
"The entire time, I wanted to dance with you. Every damn second of it, I thought how much better it would have been if it were you and not them." There was no way she could hide her surprise from such blunt words, and his gaze drunk it up like it was the very concoction of drinks he smelled like. "When you were watching me, did you see that?"
Of course not. "No." How would she have?
"Were you thinking the same thing?" he asked. "Did you want to be with me, as well?"
"I had to let you be with them — so you could —"
"So you did."
He kept pushing and pushing, and Hinata didn't know what to do. "S-Sasuke."
"Moon Witch." He craned his neck so it was on her level. "We both know you're aware of it, so drop the act."
Shame, and a bit of offense, made her stand and take a step back. He didn't stand with her. He just sat there, watching.
"I-It's not an act!" she yelped. "I don't — I really don't — it's not real. I really think that. Because it can't be, right? You don't like me, you're just my friend. I know that's real, and everytime I think about it, I feel like my mind must be tricking me. It's like I want to betray Naruto. Something in me wants to hurt him — I keep thinking that. So I can't just stand here and think it's all real, because if it is, then — then I'm just hurting him. I'm supposed to wait for him, Sasuke. I can't like you. It's just in my head —"
Now was not the time — definitely not — but when Hinata felt the hairs on her arms rise from the growing electricity in the air, she realized it had been some time since she had felt that constant, cracking lightning that sat rapid and waiting within Sasuke. She remembered when it used to be a shock to her; now, her body didn't even flinch upon the static washing over her front. She also remembered when she felt the most welcomed, the most cherished when it surrounded in a dark, cool cell.
Why — that time — hadn't that been —
Well.
It didn't matter.
Especially not now, when Sasuke pushed himself off the ground, wings springing out from beneath his cloak, the rip of fabric ringing through the air. One moment, she had been with both feet planted on the ground, and the next, she was in the air. Sasuke had his arms wrapped around her, her cloak clutched tight to her back, flapping wildly at her feet. A strangled call shot from her throat as her hands grabbed onto the front of him — not out of fear that he'd drop her, because of course he wouldn't. Rather, she had ground beneath her feet for all she could remember, and no matter if she was from Moon 2 or not — just the feeling of being in the air, flying, soaring —
"Is this fake?"
The weeds on his face were tight, but nothing else about him was.
She could feel the fingers pressed in her back. The air smelled like spice and booze and sweat and smoke. His wings smelled like rain.
Sasuke took her hand and pressed it further into his chest. "Is that fake?"
It hummed — and not just with electricity.
Even Hinata could tell that much.
"It's . . . the exertion."
He didn't look convinced. "And you?"
In her own ears, she could hear that chime in her chest — like it was a windy day in the middle of a treeless field. She had hoped only she was aware of it, but of course that wasn't the case. She was learning that Sasuke knew a lot more than he let on.
" . . . Shock," Hinata murmured, not putting any energy at all to try and sound confident.
Who was she kidding?
She wasn't tricking anyone.
"You can keep telling yourself that." Below them, the music still played, but most of the Inuzuka were watching them. Hana was watching them. But Sasuke wouldn't let her down, he only held her closer. "But I'll never listen, Moon Witch."
It was impossible to sleep that night.
Hinata was sure she could feel his wings wrap around her the second her eyes closed, and it was impossible to think clearly when he was in there, with her, breathing soundly as he slumbered.
Well, at least he was doing that much. It was clear he had drank enough that night based off of . . . certain, choice phrases he said to her, and she was glad to find when coming to their shared cave that he was already asleep in his rags and furs.
She wanted to do the same.
She wanted just a break from her racing mind, from the cracking bark in her ribs.
But she wasn't even allowed a minute without the scent of rain encasing her and sending her soaring through the clouds.
Pulling from her makeshift bed, Hinata pulled her cloak from the floor, hooked it on, and crept past Sasuke to sneak out into the tunnel. Shino hadn't come back yet, as he and half of the inhabitants of the cave were still awake and celebrating. It was easy to sneak past them, as most of them were well distracted with their dancing, or their food, or, of course, even their fifth glass of whiskey. Hinata traced her steps from earlier that day and was able to find the back entrance with relative ease.
The air was completely frigid, to the point that even her skin that was used to bottom-of-the-ocean temperatures rose with bumps. But Hinata just pulled the dark, heavy fabric of her cloak closer to her and found a rock to sit on that overlooked the view of the valley below.
The gazebo stood a few yards behind her, but she didn't dare look at it. That would only send memories of white hands and pleased eyes into her mind, and that would make her think of wings and music and feeling that thrum under her hand — unyielding — strong.
It was impossible to ignore now.
Sasuke Uchiha definitely had feelings for her. He made that outrageously clear tonight, though the signs had been present for a rather extended amount of time now. And she could no longer deny her own, warm feelings spilled freshly in front of her, for all eyes to see.
Really, it made her want to do nothing but cry.
Poor Naruto, she thought. How could you do this to him?
But she also knew that, once that was over and out of her system, her mind would turn back to Sasuke, and she couldn't bring herself to regret it anymore.
"Really, Moon Witch."
The crack of her spine sounded like ice falling onto stone, and before she could move or look or even think of a word to say, something heavy fell over her head and shoulders as Sasuke landed before her, wings curling against his back.
His eyes were tired and lined with blues and purples, and his voice when calling to her sounded disappointed — but not really in the sense where it seemed like he was disappointed in her sneaking out of their cave. Rather, with how he was looking down at her, he seemed more dissatisfied that, from all the places she could have chosen to go to, she picked outside when it was freezing cold on top of a mountain.
"I thought you were asleep," she said to the ground. Her head felt too heavy to lift up and meet his eye.
"I was. I heard you leaving."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not a problem."
"No — Sasuke, I mean I'm really sorry."
The blacks of his eyes dilated, and she knew he understood. The whole structure of his body turned into a clear and blazing symbol of discomfort — his shoulders bent back, his fingers brushed together, his lips sealed shut. It was also that moment when she realized that all that had happened between them that night — the looks, the words, the flying — was not something a sober, completely dry Sasuke would have done.
She wasn't meant to have heard that.
But she did, and there was no going back.
This time, the static in the air with a vague hum, barely capturing her attention. His right foot shifted back, then he said, "Go on."
"I was running away," she tried to explain, "and in doing so, I hurt you and frustrated you. I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter."
"It does, Sasuke. You mean a lot to me."
There was a crack; this, she definitely heard, definitely noticed. Touching the corners of her lips was a smile as his lightning washed over her once more.
"What are you doing?" he asked her.
No going back. No going back.
Maybe if she kept telling herself that, it would give her confidence.
No going back, Hinata. No going back.
"We still have this mission. You still have to aim for Hana."
"But?" he pushed.
Her head was still heavy, and her neck was getting sore, as well; but still, Hinata lifted her gaze up and found him staring back, like she was all that was there, that existed.
"But when this is finished, and we're back at the Guard, can I talk with you about a few things?"
Another snap, just as loud and revolutionary. Everything shifted, and she witnessed piles of stickers fall right off his face.
She could see almost everything now.
His eyes, his ears, the sides of his face; the bridge of his nose and the soft spots in his temple. She saw the pale rose in his cheeks, from the cold and from her, and she saw the structure, the angles, the landscape of everything else —
Everything, except —
"I'll wait."
"I'll wait, Hinata."
...
She knew.
He'd been waiting ever since then, and she knew he'd wait now.
Chapter 26 - End