This is a pretty short chapter. I ended up having to cut it in half basically, the continuation of it is in a few chapters, but trust, this is the calm before the storm. I do apologize for the length of it though!


People leave their mark, even when we don't want them to.

the obsidian was cold

The first night she found them sleeping together in her dingy living room and she found herself upset. The feeling effervescent as it bubbled in her chest. Haru was laying on the floor, taking up both cushions by the small table. Itachi was leaning against the wall, his eyes closed and his head slightly tilted to the side. His mouth slightly opened as he breathed. Quietly she had picked up Haru and carried him to their room. The futon was made, which only served to confuse her further as to why he was sleeping where she had found him.

Itachi woke with a start when she shook him, he offered nothing in the silence that stretched before them as he oriented himself. She turned her back to him to make tea, but before she could start boiling the water the front door closed with a click, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.

The second night, Haru had been in bed, Itachi nowhere to be found, and her routine returned to normal. Only two things were different now; Haru would come home from school, change his clothes and walk out the door by 2:30 sharp, 3 times a week. On her fridge, a whiteboard that would change daily had appeared. Neat handwriting detailing how the day had gone would adorn the otherwise pristine white surface. Sometimes she would find, aided by a magnet, a picture to accompany the words. Haru meditating at the Dojo, with Gaara next to him. She would collect them, fingers trembling, and place them carefully inside a box. One that she would not be likely to part with.

His notes were never very detailed. Like the man that wrote them; they were succinct and dry. They usually contained the time Haru got home, when he finished his homework, what time he took his bath and the time he fell asleep. Sometimes they would contain a note in regards to his lessons, but never anything more. True to his word, Itachi had not told anyone else of her location, and besides Temari, Gaara and himself, no one else seemed to know about Haru.

It was two months later, when she came home to find them sleeping together again. Itachi against the same wall she had found him the first night. There were papers on the table, he had clearly been doing work at some point. Haru was not taking over the pillows and instead his small body was curled next to Itachi's thigh. They were both breathing peacefully. The sound of their sleep making her chest constrict, a lead weight sitting in her throat. Instead of extracting Haru from his current position, she walked to the bathroom, closing the door carefully behind her as to not wake them and ran the shower. When she came out of the bathroom, clean and smelling of tears, Haru was in bed and Itachi was nowhere to be found. A single note in the whiteboard, written in the same neat handwriting that she had grown accustomed to.

Don't forget to eat.

She erased it, and breathing heavily she collapsed in front of the fridge. Sleep was nowhere to be found that night.

She would loathe to admit it, but Itachi taking Haru 3 times a week was saving her money. Child care was expensive. Having him picked up from home also allowed her to work longer hours on those days. This arrangement had allowed her savings to grow, slowly but surely. She hoped that she would save enough by the time that Haru entered first grade to get him a brand new randoseru. It would afford her his new uniform and perhaps even an air conditioner for when the blistering summer roared its humid breath into the small apartment.

Six months passed in a blurr. Where before the board never displayed her words, it would now and then contain a small note in her neat handwriting. Sometimes it was nothing more than a simple thank you, other times it was a reminder of something that Haru needed to do. Once in a while she would leave a note for him, reminding him to sleep well. Itachi was diligent in his responses as if he had been starved of these small interactions his whole life. When she thanked him, he would leave a witty message behind. When she left instructions he would let her know they were completed, and when the messages were for him, he would leave one for her in turn.

They didn't often speak to each other as Haru would meet him outside the apartment door. Hinata had never bothered to ask her son why, but she had been grateful that she would not need to meet with Itachi as he gathered Haru and took him away. Their conversations started off with tentative and simple, small notes on the whiteboard. They slowly evolved into more complex notes. Questions about each other's days, the things they did, the annoyances they faced in their day to day lives. For the first time in five years, Hinata's eyes began to sparkle again. The notes only increased as Itachi began to take Haru to practice five times a week. Her son had shown himself to be gifted with the bow, and she could not refuse him more practice. Not after finding a note pinned to the fridge, written in Gaara's lovely script. In it he detailed, in earnest, how talented Haru was and how he would be remiss if he did not plead with her to allow him more practice days. She relented, leaving a note on the board asking if this was ok. After all, she did not want to impose more practice days upon Itachi. He was a busy man after all. She had never pictured Itachi as someone who would liberally use exclamation points, and thus, could not contain her giggle when his answer was a resounding yes. With seven of them for good measure.

Eight months had passed since they had barged back into her life. Winter had come and gone, its bone chilling bite finally relenting as Spring greeted them with its pleasant warmth that soon gave way to summer. Thanks to the extra hours she had been able to provide the small apartment with a lifeline as summer peaked. The aircon was expensive, but being able to close her windows at night and not having to watch Haru at the verge of heat stroke had made it worth it. Haru had been able to pick a randoseru in navy blue. His eyes had sparkled when she had told him he could have it. Almost giddy with excitement he had prepared for his first day of first grade, and had given her a blinding smile when she noted how handsome he looked. She walked home that night in the humid summer air. A spring to her step that had been missing for far too long. Completely forgetting that everything that goes up, must come down. That rhetoric did not just apply to objects, pulled back to earth by gravity, but also to moods. Elated and buoyant. After all, you only have something to lose, when hope begins to sprout in your heart.


Hi everyone! We're here for the 6th chapter of this story. I'm quickly approaching the chapters that I haven't actually polished, so fingers crossed I can keep up this update schedule. Wish me luck!

I wanted to say thank you to all the lovely readers that have taken the time to leave a review or a kudos on this story, it really does make my fumbling with words daily worth it. I want you all to know that I read every single one and that I cherish all you say.

I do apologize that this chapter was shorter than normal, but trust me it is a needed break in what is to come. I'm mentally preparing myself for the rage that will come around when this chapter comes back to haunt us.

I also would like to take a moment to make this clear to everyone: I can't make everyone happy, people will be disappointed with the direction the fic decides to go in no matter how hard I try. I do appreciate all that take the time to read it but please know that I can't force the story to go where we want it go.

Leave some kind words!