Hinata's ring disintegrated. She hadn't thought about it, but it didn't leave her hand until just now. She stared at the loose sand on her desk and started to shake. She couldn't breathe. Tears ran down her face as she touched it with her fingertips.
It was lifeless, void of chakra.
Gaara was gone.
Hinata choked and covered her mouth as she sobbed. It was violent and painful to cry. She shivered and gasped as days of numbed pain crashed down on her. He was dead.
He was dead.
A scream of pain rang in her ears as she doubled over, unable to breathe through her violent sobs. The door crashed open moments later, and her name was called, but she couldn't answer. Her chest burned with the sharp pain of loss and lack of oxygen, but she couldn't breathe properly. She couldn't handle it. It was finally all right in front of her.
He was dead.
Hinata screamed into her knees as someone tried to stable her. Her headache made the bile in her throat hard to keep down. She turned to the trash and was sick. Her hair was pulled away from her face. Tears dripped off her face in rivers as she coughed.
She felt like she was torn in half, and she wasn't sure if the pain was going to stop.
Matsuri restrained her the best she could, kept her hair back as she was sick, and dabbed her forehead as she wilted with nothing left to cough up. She wailed violently for what felt like hours but was only minutes until she dissolved into shivers and a few more episodes of gags. Hinata eventually came off the chair to bow on her knees on the floor, leaning against the desk drawer's head over the trash. She stared at the floor, blindly gasping, holding her upset stomach like it was hurting.
"What's happening? Are you alright?" Matsuri asked again. Thus far, she was either unable to answer or just didn't.
"He… He's dead." Hinata gasped harshly, letting out another sob. "Gaara's gone." She coughed painfully, her face shriveling as she covered it with her sleeves.
"How…?" Matsuri searched for an open message or a seal but found nothing but a pile of sand that didn't even make up a few ounces. Hinata held her clasped hands to her lips with red-rimmed, bloodshot ghostly eyes. "I…" She felt the hit and started to tear too. "I'll get Temari." She released Hinata slowly, unsure if she was safe to leave on her own.
Hinata curled around herself and buried her face while Matsuri went to get help.
Temari held on to her and cried with her once she understood how she knew. Temari scooped her up and led her to the couch, where Hinata dissolved limply, shivering. Hinata completely exhausted herself, physically and mentally. It seemed all she could do. She refused water until it was shoved in her face.
Hinata completely shattered.
When Temari saw Hinata in the hospital, she didn't know what she wanted her to be when she accused her of being unfazed. Was this what she wanted? It wasn't what she expected.
Temari expected cracking and falling to pieces slowly, not a full shatter, and the piece on the floor being broken further as they landed.
Temari mourned her brother but was distracted by the care Hinata needed. Completely depleted, Hinata simply whimpered until she had cried herself to sleep. Kankuro was informed when he came in from the restoration. He paused, looking at them, and rubbed his face, pulling off his puppeteer hood to ruffle his hair. He said he would be back and did so with his paints removed and his eyes rimmed with a natural red. Kankuro lifted Hinata's legs and sat under them, fixing the edges of the blanket they had haphazardly tossed over her to fit around her legs. Matsuri came back after informing the council. She frowned at the three, turning to order someone to bring back a tray of Hinata's teas and some snacks that they could stomach. She pulled a table and chair up, and they nibbled silently for a while.
"Will she be okay?" Matsuri asked after an hour of deadly silence.
Hinata's head and shoulders laid securely in Temari's lap. Her mouth pressed to her curled hands, hiding her lower face. Her face was still flushed red and streaked from crying so violently.
"No," Kankuro answered flatly. "But she will cope."
Temari looked to the side, scrunching her face. "I don't know that it will be okay."
"Wh… What happens to her? Will she have to go back to the Hyuga? She's the Kazekage. Surely they can't?" Matsuri stared in panic at the thought.
Temari waved her freed hand that wasn't laid on Hinata's hair. "No, she is a Suna citizen. They can't do anything. Her status as Kage only further solidifies that."
They went silent again before Kankuro spoke a few minutes later. "I don't even think it thought it was possible."
"He was so… indestructible," Temari mumbled in agreement.
Matsuri nodded and sucked in a sob she tried to force down.
"We can't dwell. His spirit will fester. We must honor him properly." Kankuro reminded them.
"Wait until she can do it. I'm sure she doesn't know, and maybe it will bring her some peace." Temari added.
Hinata was stiff and sore, her head hurt, and her empty stomach burned with the acid that went unused. Her face was crusted with tears. She coughed. Her throat was dry and in pain. She was offered water, and she drank it. Temari gave her a weak smile. Kankuro was asleep, leaning against the arm with his arm folded over her legs. Matsuri fell asleep upright in a nearby chair.
Hinata laid her head back down. Her head throbbed.
Temari tapped her and held something out. A tiny bottle. "We thought you might want this protected."
The sand that once encased her finger lay motionless in the jar. Hinata titled it one way. It moved lifelessly. Hinata held it to her chest tightly and curled around it as the pain returned full force.
Hinata's finger felt empty. It naturally dented her finger where it should lay, and now it was gone. Just like him, gone.
The hole in her chest felt hollow. Somehow, she felt sick, but she was sure she couldn't throw up because her stomach was empty.
"There's been no word on if he was found," Temari added. The subtext made her flinch. 'He likely died alone.'
After all, Gaara went through. He died alone for his village.
"I… He…" Hinata squeaked as she started to cry again, bringing her face into Temari's legs. She felt her hair pet gently, keeping it out of her face.
"We'll… get through it," Temari mumbled.
Hinata held the bottle tightly to her chest. "Do you think this could only mean the Shukaku-san has been pulled from him?" She could be wrong. She hoped she was wrong.
"The beast lost control of the sand when he was hit. I think if it was sand, he was controlling. The ring would have fallen off then, but I guess…" Hinata couldn't hope for that. Neither of them deserved death. Neither of them deserved the hand they were dealt. It wasn't fair.
Hinata stared at the figure made in Gaara's image. Not quite a puppet, more like a doll, it was simplistic in his features, yet still detailed. It was handed to her, wrapped in a white cloth circled in string beads. She did as Kankuro instructed from her left, wrapping it like you would a dead body, and she placed it on the traditional home shrine like she was told.
On her right, Temari reached forward and lowered the white veil she was wearing over her face, symbolizing her mourning. They explained that this was traditional, but it was always private. Public mourning was more cheerful in an attempt to celebrate the person's life rather than dwell on death.
"If you dwell on his death rather than remember their life, you will stop their soul from passing on. It will fester and become dark and disturbed." Matsuri had explained. "They used to believe souls that became disturbed would enter puppets that looked like them and kill."
Hinata understood the superstitions through extreme, but they were well-placed and focused on trying to keep the living from focusing on the dead.
Hinata stood when Temari touched her arm, and they bowed to the shrine.
Hinata was now a widow.