5. Inspired by canon!Hinata making Sasuke a packed lunch after the Uchiha Massacre. The initial title of this was Hinata's delivery service
This story is dedicated to my good friend and editor Jasmine , happy birthday x
The hallway exuded the same minimalistic ambiance, devoid of any distinctive character. A pervasive scent of antiseptic clung heavily to the air, coating her tongue with a bitter residue. Hinata instinctively inhaled, searching for a hint of artificial fragrance beneath the sterile monotony. Her nose crinkled in response. The scent, both pleasant and nauseating, propelled her footsteps with a sense of urgency akin to a gourd guiding her every move.
As she approached the door, her hair swayed gracefully, a vibrant contrast against the muted tones of her medic uniform. Just recently, she had trimmed her locks, a symbolic gesture heralding the arrival of this, her bangs twitched against her cheek while the rest of her hair sloped in dark waves down her back.
Taking a few steadying breaths, Hinata paused one hand against the door frame. With her gaze fixed on the two women within the room. They shifted in their seats, causing the legs of the chair to scrape against the floor. The dull beige walls offered no solace, failing to ease the nervousness coursing through her limbs. With each step she took into the room, a palpable heaviness settled upon her, heightening her apprehension.
The pinkette eyes tilted towards Hinata, her hands sitting in her lap. She sat in a way where Hinata could only afford to see her side still beautiful, her eyes seemed a bit sunken and she carried a pair of bags underneath them, probably largely attributed to shared load of late-night shifts and endless paperwork. However, it didn't impact Hinata much as the woman's face held a healthy flush, unlike the pallor Hinata often noticed in her own skin after a gruelling seventy two -hour shift.
Both women occupied seats across from each other at the table, though the office space they were in seemed considerably more expansive than her own. Yet, despite its size, the room lacked openness and space. It felt narrow, dominated by an overwhelming litany of paperwork that encroached upon its majority
"Sorry to bother you both, but I was wondering if you could help me with a particular matter—what do you think Uchiha-san likes to eat?" Hinata's words spilled out with a sense of anticipation.
The other woman's face bloomed with confusion as she asked, "Why are you asking? Have you gotten over Naruto?"
"No. It's just that you both happened to pursue — and well you know him." circling her own words doggedly before they became more convoluted. She flinched at her delivery. It had not been her most delicate work; in fact, it had come off as callous than originally intended but it had gotten the point across. The pink haired woman flushed promptly.
"I mean a lot of that is behind us." She glanced up momentarily to look at the blonde behind her and Hinata wondered if this was a form of pacification. Sakura held the gaze tightly as if she needed any reassurance. Hinata refused to assert any judgement on that part knowing all too well what it felt like to be in that position not too long ago.
"I just — Naruto told me to look after him whilst he's away and I never really got the chance to ask him, "Hinata continued, taking a sharp inhale to steady herself. The blonde woman drummed her fingers against the table, the sound of little indentations against the paper resonating in the room.
"Let's see— Now that I come to think of it," Sakura pondered, her brows furrowing into the creases of her forehead. "He prefers anything that isn't sweet. Omusubi with okaka and similar dishes," she continued, her voice taking on a contemplative tone.
"He has a fondness for onigiri, especially those with tomatoes," Ino chimed in, her face peering up at Hinata, her eyes bright with enthusiasm, before picking up a previously discarded pen.
Hinata's gratitude overflowed as she spoke, her voice genuine and appreciative. "Thank you so much. You both have been an immense help," she expressed sincerely. With a deep bow, her hands clasped, and uplifted eyes, bangs gently tumbled from behind her ear, resembling cascading curtains, she deftly pinned them back in place
—
By evening exhaustion had begun to etch its lines, fatigue clung to her limbs ease.
Her once neatly styled hair had surrendered to brazen waves, reflecting the intensity of the day. The strength in her eyes had waned over to something more glassy and blown out.
The day had worn on with one particular patient who had taken up a significant portion of her time.
She had just about made it into her office before anyone had approached, the faint wash of relief. She muttered, her head retreating into pages of medic reports. Her gaze flickered between the clock on the wall and the nearby woven basket, instilling in her the certainty that she could escape at any moment she wasted no time shedding her uniforms and slipping off her boots, a sense of urgency urging her to escape before anyone could corner her.
Her empty gaze momentarily shifted to the window, the weariness in her eyes replaced by a glimmer of anticipation. A smile spread across her face as some of the tension dissipated from her weary frame. Without hesitation, she flung open the window, and it swung soundlessly. A stream of air, elevating the tightness in her shoulders.
She swallowed thickly. In spite of the evening sun, the air had grown colder and the sun began its descent into a soft glow.
After a prolonged pause, she inhaled deeply and ran a hand through his hair. Hinata picked up the lilac wool coat she had discarded on her desk chair earlier on her shift. She reached out for her coat, before a light gust of wind swept through the open window, causing her arm to jerk involuntarily. Just narrowly avoiding knocking over the vase of flowers, their delicate petals quivering in response to the breeze.
Quickly, Hinata scrawled down the suggestions in between broken slopes of handwriting and flowing arcs. As she tapped the pencil against the paper, a frown etched upon her face , displeased with the poor penmanship brought on by work fatigue. She disregarded the thought and then promptly slipped the folded note into her pocket. The basket nestled in the crook of her arm. She would have to make it before the beginning of the night market. It often got too crowded for her liking.
That would simply have to impart some courage on her part.
—
That night, before her shift, Hinata meticulously prepared three sets of meals for designated meal times. With care and dedication, she bundled them up, ensuring they would stay warm and delicious. As the early morning hours approached, she made her way out, determined to deliver the first meal: a Japanese Breakfast Skillet with Warm Tomato, Ginger, and Miso Dressing.
As she stepped out into the cool embrace of dawn. Hinata caught a glimpse of her reflection in a nearby window. Her face appeared plain and weary, marked by the soft tell-tell spells of wind playfully tousled her hair, sending a whispering breeze down the back of her neck. In one hand, she held the knot of a blue silk scarf that Hanabi had given her, intending to use it to tie around the other two bento the warmth emanating from the food nestled in her palm, she cupped her hand tightly, and hoped to prevent the steam from dissipating into the morning mist.
The Uchiha compound, located on the edge of Konoha, stood as her destination.
—
The second time she delivers the bento box, her belly gnaws at her, the pain from the hospital-issued shoes accentuated by the slight twinge in her throat is all too much.
Hinata constrains the urge to channel her frustration into more satisfying ends like gentle fisting the shoes to pieces despite the pain that seeps into the seams of soles. A streak of pain behind a particular part of her heel has her mind back darting in between patients because of course she would be on call by lonesome. It seemed like every five minutes a patient from a S class mission was admitted.
In a dazed state, she mused over which half-open topical ointment she could borrow to soothe the ache. The pain had all but engulfed her lower part , leading her to consider the need to plunge her feet in the Naka River.
Indeed it was a long way back to the pharmacy.
—
*Sakana no nitsuke is a rustic Japanese dish of simmered, braised white fish in a sauce made of sake on a bed of rice
After her shift, she walked the same path back. Her legs ached with each steepened stride. Evening shadows begin to curl around the river reeds. The wind trills in gusty short breaths, tossing her hair lightly.
Cautioned steps pressed into the wooden patio, Hinata's knuckles tighten against the silken knot of the bento box. In the hush of stillness, she slips off her shoes, an instant regret washing over her as the dampness clings to her softly padding feet. Hinata places the bento box by the mat adjacent to the shoji door. She turned, her figure poised, on the brink of departure when door slid open, and in that fleeting moment, their eyes locked,
"Hyuuga?"
"I was just leaving." she replied, her words trailing off with measured grace, her voice carrying an undertone of deliberation.
"No, stay." his voice echoed
She swiftly stripped the backpack off her shoulders, revealing the contents of her preparations for their shared meal. With gentle care, she unwrapped the knitted scarf, the air seemingly alive with anticipation as it whispered through the room. In a deliberate motion, she closed the hanji door. With graceful precision, she arranged the seat cushion mats.
"I made it with mirin. I know you don't have a particular palate for sweet things," Hinata offered, her voice laced with a gentle sincerity, her attempt to engage Sasuke in their culinary exchange.
In response, Sasuke disappeared momentarily, reemerging with sake cups, a bundle of chopsticks, and a blanket.
"You should know Hyuuga , I can cook.."
Hinata turned around, her body folding in a low bow, her nose pressed into the grain of the floorboards. "Gomenasai, Uchiha —, " she murmured softly.
..your cooking however surpasses all expectations," he finally concluded, his voice carrying a note of genuine surprise
"Oh." Hinata's mouth flutters open, her head still flushed to the wooden floors. She lifts her head and blush hangs loosely beneath her eyes.
Silence settled between them as Sasuke poured two cups of sake, his actions a quiet offering that bridged the gap between them. "I heated it up," he mentioned, his words carrying a sense of care and consideration.
Without hesitation, Sasuke began to pick at the fish, savouring the flavours with practiced ease. However, he soon noticed that Hinata had yet to , although not particularly fond of fish, had prepared it with him in mind, her manners and etiquette preventing her from refusing. Sasuke pointed to the chopsticks nestled in her obliged, picking at the surrounding bed of rice.
And they continued to eat in imbued silence.
The final bites marked the completion of their shared meal
Hinata couldn't help but observe Sasuke, his demeanour exuding a newfound ease she hadn't witnessed before. She nonetheless did not want to probe too deeply.
Their eyes meet briefly, sharing a wordless understanding of their shared enjoyment. And then he pours her more sake. Verily, in the face of her reservations, she drank nonetheless until a tipsy merriment swirled within me. Her limbs begin to feel like they would float out her sockets.
In the dimness of the night, their silhouettes barely visible, he shifted his weight onto his palm, feeling the weight of his existence in that simple gesture. The symphony of crickets filled the air, their rhythmic chorus intertwining with his steady breaths. Her gaze lingered on him, and as she contemplated the enigma that was Sasuke Uchiha, she couldn't help but count the scarce moments they had shared, struggling to recall them on one hand.
As the remnants of their meal lingered on their plates, his voice broke the silence, its evenness mirroring the candied warmth she felt after having poured one too many glasses of sake.
"Why?"
But in that fleeting moment of introspection, she realised she had a reason, however tenuous it might be. And so, she chose to weave a lie, shielding herself in its fabricated embrace.
"Naruto... Naruto asked me to," she stammered, her words betraying a rare vulnerability. It had been years since she last stuttered, yet the weight of her unspoken truths, coupled with the chill in the air and the lingering remnants of alcohol, caused her cheeks to flush more deeply than the mere effects of a drink ever could.
"Come off it, Hyuuga, you should know better than to lie to me," he admonished, his tone laced with quiet intensity.
"That idiot would not make his precious hime..." His words trailed off as he caught a glimpse of her face, and the formal veil that hid her true feelings slipped, revealing a delicate blush. They weren't anything more than acquaintances, not yet at least. He had left to embark on his travels before, urging her to wait, but that was nothing Sasuke needed to know.
"But I won't tell him," he interjected, cutting through her thoughts, as if attempting to inject a touch of lightness into the conversation. Her ears tingled with the sound, ringing like silver bells.
She stuttered slightly, her tongue tripping over the words as she struggled to articulate her thoughts. Finally, with effort, the words found their way out.
"I've got work tomorrow, so I cannot stay," she managed to say, her voice slightly faltering.
"I'll walk you back," Sasuke offered firmly.
"No, it's fine, Uchiha-san—"
"Call me Sasuke," he interrupted. "It's the least I can do after you've cooked me three meals."
"What would Naruto say if I let you walk home alone?" Although now, as she pondered the situation, she realised she might be more vulnerable to being targeted after this encounter. He pointed to the reeds of yellow grass hugging the riverbend, a silent invitation. Without a word, he started walking ahead, and she quickened her pace, jogging to match his stride.
The meals that hinata prepares:
*Japanese Breakfast Skillet with Warm Tomato, Ginger and Miso Dressing
* Seaweed miso soup and rice with umeboshi with Okaka + * Roasted Tomato Yaki Onigiri, topped with a runny fried egg for extra decadence
*Sakana no nitsuke is a rustic Japanese dish of simmered, braised white fish in a sauce made of sake on a bed of rice
Would greatly appreciate if you would give me some reviews and favourites and possible suggestions/ideas for this anthology. This story is one version and the full version will be posted on ao3