Day 26

- A Quiet Relationship -

It's around this time of day, when the sun has been long enough in the sky to warm the pavement and the breaths of children rushing out of their classrooms, that Mr. Iriko likes to take his daily walks. Wrapped in a wool shawl his sister knitted him three Christmases ago, with a tweed cap keeping the short, white hairs on his head protected from the ghastly wind, he takes his time around the block. It's a sizable neighborhood, with a nearby school and a few parks to keep the children occupied. Families come here to build homes, and the convenient store down the street is owned by a sweet thing that gives all the grandmas and grandpas coupons for soap and suckers and rice cakes. The sky is icy, and it is indeed a cold, winter day, but Mr. Iriko takes his time along the sidewalks, waving at neighbors and chatting with a few familiar faces. The younger girls like to tell gossip to their husbands, who share it with their friends — soon, word gets around, and after every 'hello' is a sure 'have you heard the news'?

As is the norm, the name of Uchiha Sasuke is brought up often throughout his walk. Mrs. Hachibana tells that her daughter caught sight of him sprinkling salt on the streets a few nights ago. Old Mr. Abe heard word from a few bar mates that the Uchiha sometimes goes swimming in the frozen lakes up north — a habit Mr. Iriko thinks is stupid no matter how you look at it. They say Uchiha have fire in their blood, but even that can't protect him from hypothermia. Just thinking about it gets him shivering, so he pulls his shawl to his chin and keeps walking.

Ever since the return of Uchiha Sasuke, gossip has been ravenous.

But not only about him.

If word is true, not only has he managed to snag the ever-famous Hyuuga Hinata, but he somehow managed to steal her from Suna's Kazekage, Lord Gaara.

A Kazekage and a traitor, Mr. Iriko ponders throughout his walk. And she was affectionate to Naruto in the past.

Why she would choose the traitor in the end is beyond his comprehension, of course. If that girl was his granddaughter, he'd dispute it until he was cold in the ground!

Walk coming to an end, Mr. Iriko loosens the shawl around his neck as he makes his way to the paper door at the front of his house, sliding it back and sitting on the half-step to peel off his shoes and slide into his slippers. Unlike his rather nice and calming walk, the house is erupting with talk. Mrs. Iriko had invited her friends for tea, cards, and gossip. When he comes into the kitchen, he sees the bunches of women around the table, dropping cards in the middle as they chatter. His wife doesn't even wish him a welcome home, which turns him into a grumbling fit as he pours himself his own tea and searches for crackers in the cupboard.

" — And he is such a mean thing, too," Mrs. Iriko determines, tapping one of her friends' shoulder to emphasize her words. "I wouldn't trust that Uchiha for a minute! Who is she to think she ought to just go on and date him?"

"I can't imagine her father is very pleased," says her friend, glasses sliding down her nose as she looks at her cards.

"Oh, no, of course not. And why should he be?" Mrs. Iriko brings her cup to her mouth, stops, and adds, "He could have been in-laws with the Kazekage's family. Not very smart of that girl."

Another friend drops her cards on the table, announcing her win. The women groan and wave at their faces as they gather the cards to shuffle and distribute them for another game. "Well, we can't blame the poor girl, can we? With all we know as true about that Uchiha, he must have trapped her in some way."

Mr. Iriko looks over and sees that, yes, it was Mrs. Tanaka that had said that — the very woman who has been in and out of three marriages in the past two decades. He doesn't think she has much right to judge, but he keeps that to himself in fear of the rage his wife would put upon him.

Mrs. Iriko quickly swallows her tea to speak. "Oh, yes. I do feel pity for the poor thing. To be trapped by such a vicious man."

"Vile," the friend with the glasses agrees.

"Monstrous," Mrs. Tanaka adds.

"It must be a contract," Mrs. Iriko deduces, drawing her cards. "Why else would she be — I mean, I saw them just the other day at the store. She bought everything, you see. He didn't offer a coin. And, well, we all know he lives with his old sensei and barely gets any missions these days."

"That poor Hinata."

"It's awful to see such a good girl with the likes of a traitor."

Mr. Iriko would like very much to disappear into his study to get away from the constant chatter, but there's an awful leak caused by last week's storm, and the non-stop dripping of water would annoy him just as equally.

And when will they send someone to fix it? He had sent out for someone two days ago, and a repair man has yet to visit.

Just then, two, steady knocks come to the door. Mrs. Iriko cries for him to get it, and he grumbles and shuffles over, putting down his cup of tea to slide the door open — and it was a good thing, too. For he would have surely dropped the cup in fright upon Uchiha Sasuke's form coming into view.

Frozen, Mr. Iriko isn't sure what to do. Just a few months ago, the Uchiha had fixed his room — and he'd done a very good job at it, too. But that wasn't the issue! Letting Konoha's number one traitor work on his roof is one thing. Inviting him in is an even greater sin that his ancestors would never forgive him for!

The Uchiha does not push in. He stays in the blistering cold and looks down upon Mr. Iriko's bent form.

"Well, dearest, what's the hold up?" There's a squeak of chairs as Mrs. Iriko's voice gets closer. "Is it the guy they've sent to fix the — KAMI!"

Her screech vibrates in his head, rattling his brain. The traitor, with shoulders wide enough to fill the whole doorway and height so impeccable that he has to keep his neck slightly bent so as to not scrape the top of his head, is much too commanding for their home. The mere contrast of him to the small, dinky layout of the house makes them still with fear. His wife's friends shuffle over, peeking around the corner; they, too, or utterly surprised.

Seeing that they won't be inviting him in, the Uchiha speaks first. "Am I at the incorrect address?"

His wife grabs Mr. Iriko arm, fingers shaking. Mouth dry, he can only step back, huddling her behind his back. Taking this as an invitation, the traitor comes in.

"Pardon the intrusion," he mumbles, then turns his chin towards the floor. "Do you have a spare pair of house shoes?"

Slowly, Mrs. Iriko peels away to fetch them from the hallway closet. The friends group around her, whispering. The traitor pretends he does not hear them, looking upon Mr. Iriko with no superior emotion.

His tongue rolls, bringing saliva to his mouth. Finally, Mr. Iriko asks, "You're here about the leak?"

"That's right."

He tries to think of an excuse to get him to leave, but his wife comes back, dropping the house shoes so that the Uchiha could fit into them.

"Thank you."

It's quick and quiet, but they're sure they heard it.

With the Uchiha's now able to enter, Mr. Iriko cautiously guides him towards the study. Every creak of the floorboards makes his shoulders jump, and the way the Uchiha towers behind him doesn't make his fear dwindle at all. The gaggle of women follow at the behind, and just as they reach the study, his wife finds her courage — stupid woman.

"Lord Hokage is giving you missions again?"

Mr. Iriko bites his tongue, turning on his heels and preparing himself. If the question tilts the traitor, then he'll surely have to dive in and take the attack for his wife; if he doesn't, she'd haunt him for the rest of his life and beyond! Mr. Iriko isn't fully prepared to die, but perhaps it would give him some peace from her gossipy friends.

The traitor looks down at her, but not in a monstrous sort of fashion. He regards her like the sweet thing at the convenient store, cutting out coupons and highlighting the deadlines for her to easily find.

"Lord Gai is being gracious," he says. "This is a trial run. He told me a ninja doesn't deserve the title if he can't fix leaks."

Mrs. Tanaka peeks out from the crowd of old women. "And can you?"

"Well." The Uchiha turns to the door. "Let's see."

Mr. Iriko opens the door and switches on the light, and they all flood in. His wife blocks the door, preventing anyone from leaving — practically a death trap, if you ask him. The Uchiha regards the hole in the ceiling and the bucket that collects the dripping water. He looks around, then turns to Mr. Iriko.

"I'll need to stand on something."

Swallowing, he says, "Th-The chair by the desk is stable."

So the Uchiha drags it over and gets on top of it, pulling a flashlight from his belt to shine light on the leak. The girls come closer, admiring the sight. Even old ladies can appreciate the look of a young, fit man doing housework; no matter if he's a traitor or not.

"If you fix it," one of them starts, "then you'll go back to missions?"

"That's right," the Uchiha says.

"Like rescue missions and such?"

Not many civilians know about the ranking of missions — but even Mr. Iriko knows that the Uchiha will only be allowed the lowest of the lows for a good while, until he once again proves himself to Lord Gai.

Still, the Uchiha answers kindly, "Something like that. It's a small hole that I can fill up. I'll need the water off."

Mrs. Iriko shoos her husband out, and he goes to the basement, switching off the water. He contemplates staying down here for a while. If the Uchiha's mood turns sour, then he'd be able to escape through the back. But, again, comes the issue of his wife's spirit tracking him down and tormenting him.

Bah. There's no winning.

So he goes back up, surprised to hear a light chatter come from his office.

". . . so I'm still looking around for a good bakery," the Uchiha finishes. As he was waiting, he dropped down to sit on the chair, and all the old ladies came around, their caution thrown into the wind. "I might have tracked one down by the library, so —"

"Oh, Kami, don't go there." Mrs. Iriko plants her hands on her bony hips, giving him a stern look. "Now listen to me. We have one here — just down the road, I tell you. Best bread in the world. Tell them that Mrs. Iriko sent you, and they'll give you a good deal."

"I'll do just that."

The Uchiha smiles (and Mr. Iriko means the good kind — not the frightful one with fangs and blood and stuff — but a good, warm smile), and Mrs. Iriko rests a hand on her chest, taken. Taken! With the traitor!

"Water's off," Mr. Iriko interrupts.

"Careful, Sasuke." Sasuke!? "We don't want you to fall and hurt yourself."

The Uchiha — Sasuke or whatever — nods and stands back on the chair. He has some sort of paste he uses to fill the hole in the pipe, and when he's done, he jumps down and tells them to let it dry overnight before turning the water back on. He even offers the repair the ceiling, but Mrs. Iriko swats that away.

"Dear, no. Come into the dining room."

"We'll get you some tea to warm you up," Mrs. Tanaka adds.

"Are you interested in cards?" another old girl asks.

Mr. Iriko follows the lot, gobsmacked. Just twenty minutes ago, these croons were saying the worst of the worst about this man. Now they're all over him! Is it a spell? Some type of jutsu his eyes casted?

Sasuke goes along with their lead until they reach the front of the house. "I'm afraid I must take payment and leave."

One girl frowns. "Oh, phooey!"

"Back to Miss Hinata, I suppose," Mrs. Tanaka giggles.

Mrs. Iriko even has the gall to pinch Sasuke's arm. "Now, you tell her to feed you right, you hear? You're skin and bones. Let her fill you with good food."

"I'll do that."

His wife elbows Mr. Iriko, and he grumbles and pulls out his wallet, handing Sasuke the right amount. He leaves quietly, squeezing through the doorway, and the old ladies go back to their cards, simpering.

"What a sweet boy," Mrs. Iriko notes.

"Hinata is treating him good. Oh, he was glowing when he talked about her!"

"That's the sort of thing we need more of these days."

"I always knew they'd be a good match!"

Fed up, Mr. Iriko dumps the water from the bucket into the street and ventures off to the nearest shrine for some peace.

Upon her return from Suna, Konoha has been strange.

Hinata, of course, knows why.

After coming back, Hanabi refused to talk to her for three days, upset that she hadn't told her own sister about Gaara. It took a trip to the shopping district and a free dinner to earn her forgiveness.

Ino and Sakura are also hot on the gossip. The day after their return, they'd come running to the house — first, to see how she was holding up; then, to pick her brain and get all the juicy details about her past relationship with Gaara. Sasuke had come that afternoon and was also dragged into the conversation, much to his mild annoyance.

Kurenai, as always, tucked the drama away to call Hinata over and have a heart-to-heart, feeling guilty for not understanding what Hinata had been dealing with just months ago.

"I knew you were going through something," she said, "but I hadn't known to what extent."

Of course, it wasn't Kurenai's fault for not knowing, and Hinata made sure she knew this. Afterwards, they made tea together, and the conversation turned lighter. When Kurenai asks about Sasuke, Hinata tells her she can't think of a time she's ever been happier. She's home, with her friends and family, and she's treated right.

Kurenai mentions how Sasuke has earned back the right to D-Ranks, then quietly mentions how Kakashi has told her that Sasuke's falling behind in paying rent.

This, Hinata has not heard about.

Nor is she utterly pleased to hear about it. From what she remembers, the rent Sasuke pays is startling — and she's surprised that Kakashi hadn't given him leeway when Sasuke's only source of income was put to a sudden stop once they came back to Konoha. It is not to say that Kakashi is an evil man. Far from it.

But perhaps he'll need a talking to.

So, after a nice afternoon with Kurenai, Hinata makes her way to the heart of Konoha, finding Kakashi's place with ease. He lets her in with no trouble, and over iced tea (very strange for the cold weather), she asks him if he'd consider lowering Sasuke's rent — just until he gets back on his feet.

At that, Kakashi leans against his fridge, arms crossed, and says simply, "No."

Hinata almost chokes on her drink. "P-Pardon?"

And while she cannot see the lower half of his face, there's something about the way his mask folds that tells her he's grinning madly. "If he can't pay it, then he should move out."

Her face burns bright, and now she knows why he served iced tea.

Needless to say, Hinata returns home with a lot to think about.

Mr. Itoti, with a hefty bag under his right arm, hops up the stairs of his sister-in-law's home with one leg before knocking his cane into the door. As he waits, he overlooks the neighborhood, pleased. Just a while ago, his brother and his wife bought the house and moved here. The warmth of the streets stands out against the cold, and he's glad to see his family has found a good, safe neighborhood to stay.

Momo comes to the door, hugging him in greeting before taking the bag from his arms. Her oldest just turned the age where he ought to start learning to throw kunai, so Mr. Itoti brought several toy ones from the shop to gift him.

"Let me invite you in." She's already moving to the side. "We have rice cooking and ramen. It'll warm you up for your trip back."

Though tempted by the offer, Mr. Itoti had promised his wife he'd run by the store to get eggs before they close. "Another time, Momo. Tell me how he likes the kunai."

"I can't thank you enough."

A small waft of color comes from the corner of his eye, and Mr. Itoti ganders over to see Hyuuga Hinata unlocking the neighboring house's door. She spots him, waves, then disappears into the house.

"You're neighbors with Hinata?" he asks gravely.

It's not that Hinata is a problem. No, of course not. Rather, it's her lover that he's not super pleased about.

As if understanding, Momo pats his shoulder. "They're good neighbors. Both of them. I was nervous, at first, but Sasuke causes no fuss. He's really kind, if you can believe it."

Oh, Mr. Itoti understands well. From the twenty stories his dear mother has told him about the Uchiha who comes to weed her yard and do other such chores, Uchiha Sasuke might as well be awarded for his standing citizenship.

"And they're so quiet," Momo continues. "Sometimes, I wonder if they do nothing but sleep all day."

Mr. Itoti, unhappily, remembers a very particular conversation his mother dragged him into with the Uchiha.

No.

They're doing anything but sleeping, he's sure.

It has been two hours since Hinata has woken up to blooming sunshine and Sasuke's hand exploring her naked back. In ten minutes, she's due to visit her sister at the Hyuuga estate to eat cakes and catch up on important, sisterly matters.

And, if you can believe it or not, in those two hours between waking up and being on the crux of showing up late to her sisterly get together, Hinata has not once left the bed.

No.

She should reword that.

Hinata has not been allowed to leave the bed.

Something has changed since their return from Suna; a thing Hinata might know the name of, but is not too certain to call it so. Sasuke has been on her (in many, many ways) since day one, and he hasn't let up. He's . . . affectionate. Doting. The kind where he'll keep her in bed, kissing her neck and teasing her clit until she's vibrating with yearn. He explores slowly, takes his time, and doesn't rush — even when occasions require him to. Occasions like, say, a poor sister waiting at the Hyuuga gate for her.

And it's not to say that Sasuke rushed sex before Suna; rather, sex has become long and sensual, where they take in each other and enjoy each other and relish in each other — and when he helps her to her high and lets her rest, he caresses her shoulders and kisses her face until dragging her into round two — round three — round four.

When he had said "I'll keep you there. I won't let you leave", he wasn't joking.

Clearly not.

And . . . if he were to move in with her at any point . . . .

Well.

Hinata's sure she'd never get anything done.

...

On her belly, arms curled under her pillow, Hinata is at the mercy of Sasuke's hand. Her legs are sprawled out along the bed, allowing him easy access to slip his fingers along the mattress and rub smooth, even circles against her clit. He sits at her side, enjoying the turn and twist of her spine. He picks up speed, and when her shoulders arch and her legs reach out, he slows and keeps her on edge, panting.

In two minutes, she's due to see her sister.

Hanabi will not be happy when she comes to the estate late. She'll demand to know why, and Hinata wouldn't have the heart to explain that, really, she was trapped. Trapped in her own room, on her own bed, by Uchiha Sasuke.

"Sasuke," she breathes into her pillow, "can you — please — I have to go . . . ."

He hums, and she can feel it in his fingers and moans. "You have time."

"I-I should —" He leans over and bites her shoulder, and she forgets to speak for a second, rolling her hips with his fingers, slowly getting back to the edge. "I should . . . be there now."

His palm presses against her lips, and then he pulls his hand away — but not too much away, for Hinata quickly leans back to grab his arm.

He looks at her in a cunning, dumb, arrogant manner. "Your sister," he reminds her.

"Don't stop."

And Sasuke grins in a cunning, dumb, arrogant manner that makes her heart stop and stomach tighten with desire. He lifts her hips up, making her bury her face into his pillow, and sticks a finger inside while his thumb returns to teasing her clit. Hinata gasps and shivers, legs kicking out as he brings her closer and closer.

"Faster," she begs.

Sasuke obliges happily, and she bites the pillow, not wishing at all to disturb her neighbors.

Granny Kuu remembers a time when the name Uchiha brought fear to Konoha.

Not to her, naturally. Kuu doesn't fear. She simmers and boils, and she waits for the day for 'Uchiha scum' to be assigned to her weeding so she can look down on him, humiliate him. Several months ago, that had been reality. Uchiha Sasuke was nothing but a traitor, and she had believed it.

Now, she waits for him on her rocker. She crochets a hat with a warm quilt over her legs, rolling a toothpick around her mouth; when she spots him coming down the way, she puts her basket of yarn off to the side and stands to greet him. He comes with Hinata — a girl she has heard much about — a dear thing that will keep him in line when Kuu's no longer around to do it herself.

He opens the door for them and fetches the basket of yarn before shutting the door behind him.

Hinata helps bring lunch out from the kitchen, and they sit around the table and eat together.

Kuu, up in her years, is not as sharp as she used to be: but she spots the look Sasuke gives Hinata as she pours him tea — a look Kuu's dear, late husband would often direct towards her.

They had been together for forty-eight years.

If you ask Kuu, she's sure Sasuke and Hinata would be able to reach that number — and then some.

And with him hear, eating her food in her house, with his cute girlfriend at his side, Kuu cannot remember a time not so long ago when the name Uchiha brought fear to Konoha.

Uchiha? she thinks. This Uchiha. Scary?

No.

It couldn't be further from the truth.