A serial killer was hiding in her room, and that made reacting normally in front of her father nearly impossible, but Hinata was more worried that if she gave Hidan money and told him to go to a motel, he would be seen leaving or coming back. So right now, in all her overwhelm, she just asked him to stay put and behave. Even that might be a struggle for him.
She was going to have to figure out what to do with him by the time she went to bed.
… When had he eaten last?
Hinata looked down at her dinner. "I have more papers to grade. I am going to take this to my desk."
Hiashi's eyes flickered up to her to tell her that he disapproved, but no verbal reprimand meant it wasn't a no.
"Still?" Neji wondered.
"It's been busy." Hinata excused, collecting her dishes, and headed back to her room.
Hidan looked up from his spot on the floor as she handed him the bowl. "Shit, thanks."
Hinata sat on her bed and put her hands on her face as he ate. "You can't stay here. I don't know what to do, but if my family finds you…" She whimpered, covering her face.
"I told you. I can be gone," Hidan said with his mouth full, pointing out the window.
But that was just it. Hinata didn't want him to go. Hinata slid her head down and her hands up into her hair. This didn't make sense! She should be afraid of him, but she was more afraid of being left alone in the house with her father again than she was with a man who had just broken out of prison.
Every word Hidan could have ever said could be a lie. But nothing he ever said put him in a good light, so Hinata couldn't say she was manipulated. He was too honest. Too upfront. Too willing to leave when she asked. It felt a lot safer than the secrets on the other side of the door.
"I can find a place to crash." Hidan finished scarfing down the bowl, setting it aside. Maybe she was right. He hadn't eaten much, or maybe that was how he ate everything.
"… I'll get you some blankets." Hinata decided, lifting her head and letting her hands run down her face. Maybe she could figure out a better plan tomorrow.
Hidan laid back in his pile of blankets that Hinata collected for him, looking over at her bed where she laid with her back turned to him and her blankets almost entirely over her head. This was a dumb decision on her part. He was a stranger, even if they had years of history at this point. He was a male stranger that she shouldn't keep in her room. The only protection she gave herself was leaving her desk lamp on so the room wasn't dark, but maybe that was just how she slept. Hinata seemed like the type to not like to sleep in the dark.
Did she trust him that much? Was that why she asked him for help?
Hinata was too busy spiraling to get answers out, but she had told him that he was the only person she told and explained what happened to make her think her father was a murderer. Hidan researched her uncle's murder in the past when she first told him about it. He only had access to old newspapers and online articles on prison-approved sites, but he could gather that the murder was a brutal beating, so there was no accident. That was pure rage.
"Are you still awake?" Hinata's voice was soft and small, fearing waking him up if he wasn't.
"Yeah," Hidan confirmed, turning his head.
Hinata turned over in a blanket covering most of her face with it pulled up. She needed to not be so cute. It was hard to take all her stress seriously. "I don't know what to do." She whimpered.
"I didn't really plan ahead," Hidan admitted.
"I am not surprised by that," Hinata mumbled. Hidan snorted. She dipped the rest of her face into her blanket. "Thank you for coming."
Hidan was surprised to hear that. "No problem, sweetheart."
Hinata pulled the blanket down to give him a sour look. Hidan stifled his laugh.
Hinata's hands hesitated over her keys as she took another look back the hall. Could she trust him to behave while she was at work? Her father was home. He needed to stay quiet and in her room until she got home.
Was that possible, or would she come home to a yard full of police cars? Hinata didn't have much choice but to go to work. Teaching wasn't something you could just call in sick for out of the blue, and it didn't solve the problem of what she would do tomorrow.
Hinata picked up her keys and hoped for the best. She was going to try to ignore it because there was nothing more she could do until she came home anyway. She knew that she was going to have a sick pit in her stomach all day anyway.
Hidan laid back on the blankets and yawned. Prison didn't let you sleep all day. For some reason, this small pile of blankets was a lot more comfortable than his prison mattress. That fucking awful thing was lumpy as hell.
Hinata was not a morning person. She barely registered that he was there as she went about her normal routine until she returned dressed from her shower, where she must have woken up enough to remember her predicament because she came back much more panicked than she left.
She wanted him to stay put and out of trouble with the promise that she would bring him back food and clothes. At least she had her own bathroom, or they would have to figure out that problem, too.
Hidan had half a mind to just go out while she wasn't home and fix the problem for her. He was in the house alone with her father. No one knew he was there. He could kill him and disappear. Problem solved. Hinata wouldn't have to worry about being caught up in it because he could just make it look like he was hiding and waiting until she left.
If he left a note confessing to it, saying something stupid like he did it because he was in love with her, no one would question it, right? He could turn himself in and go right back to prison. Rub it in the prison's face by making a scene while they were trying to keep it quiet.
Hidan sighed. But Hinata told him to stay put and not do anything until she got back, and for now, at least, he would wait. He spent years writing the girl with a single picture on the wall, and now that he could actually talk to her, he wanted to keep that for a little longer.
He probably would never get to the point where he would see what she was normally like. What she was like when she was comfortable and smiling. Ugh, that made him sound sappy, but after hundreds of letters, he spent too many nights falling asleep picturing her writing one to send him the next morning or reading his.
Hidan tilted his head over to her desk. He could almost see her sitting perfectly postured, writing in perfect practiced cursive. He was sure those silly 'you did it' stickers were in the drawer, and he could get up to find out, but he just wanted to go back to his nap in this fluffy blanket that smelled like someone used a little too much fabric softener on this pillow that he realized now was shaped like a flattened bunny. Fitting for her, but not for her very adult room. Maybe that's why it was in the closet.
Maybe he would change his mind if he still had time when he woke up.
Hinata kneeled to help another little set of hands with their work like nothing was wrong. Her chest had this unrelenting anxiety that was not washing away with each smile she made, and she could only hope the children weren't feeling it come off of her.
Despite this sickening feeling in her stomach, Hinata recognized she was still more worried about what she would do with Hidan being in her home than Hidan being in her home. She had to keep reminding herself that his being there was bad. He wasn't the friend her father told her couldn't come over, and she snuck in anyway. He was a murderer.
But he was the only thing making her feel safe with another possible murderer.
What if she was wrong about her father? What if Hidan acted on her being wrong? Her telling him to stay would probably do nothing. She shouldn't have left that morning, but she didn't know what else to do but go through her routine like nothing was wrong because she didn't have a plan.
There was one way to know the truth… but she didn't know if she even wanted to know for sure.
