Chapter Four: Dull Mornings and Strange Nights

(AN: Tamahagane is a type of steel made in the Japanese tradition.)

--

Naruto sat quietly in the chair and fiddled impatiently with the buttons on his green jacket as though they demanded his full attention. His mind raced untamed. His hands shook, palms slick with sweat. Downcast blue eyes began to glaze over with a cool film of sweat coming down his forehead; he could not see anything on his hands. His vision was lost to suspicions that bred in his mind like cattle.

His thoughts kept going back to Hinata. It was true; he had never touched her in a way a lover would. He felt that it was almost wrong. The few times he ever tried, it was just to fulfill his parents' wishes for a son—an heir for both families. He married her because it was everyone's wish. He did not love her, and he was sure she felt the same.

If it were not true, then she could have asked him to love her, to be intimate with her . . . she did not care about his needs. All she ever did was busy herself with her farm and paint small lamps for her sister's shop. He always came last. Deep lines creased his forehead in resentment, and he moved his shaky fingers through the wet hair. He was just a dead-last to her!

Whenever he came home late at night, she would be crouched in the corner of the small storage room behind the Kimono stand. A dim light from the candle would pass through the thin fabric of her night kimono, casting shadows onto the small space she loved so much. There, Naruto would find her, nose buried in some book as she desperately tried to replicate the drawing patterns on thick, homemade paper to create colourful lamps. Her hands were too unsure; they did not possess the expert fingers of an artist.

Naruto tried to coax her to come to bed, but she refused, looking repulsed. Then she busied herself again, almost resolutely, with the old paint bottles by her feet.

His features suddenly contorted, and he grabbed a fistful of the greasy yellow hair, quelling his burning rage. She did not like him at all . . . just like how this village threw his family aside over that petty daemon incident. His father was shamed, and he had left the Hokage seat in disgrace.

Naruto bore the brunt of their hate. They looked down on him, hating him for a faultless crime of birth. As he passed by, they whispered venomously. Their hatred was so strong it seemed to fill the air around him. He gritted his teeth, put his head between his knees, and felt his fearful heart pounding in his ears.

"You are not worthless, Naruto," the voice rang loudly in his mind. It had a sinister ring to it, and it suddenly made every bone in his body shudder like a diabolical instrument. He was going crazy again!

His hands trembled, and he desperately tugged at his hair as if he were clinging to it for his dear life. His breaths came quickly, and he opened his mouth wide to suck in some air. 'Leave me alone,' he whispered, his voice wavering like a drunken man's, stumbling along the lonely road beneath night's dark mantle.

Suddenly, glass bells clinked against the front door, and the fresh scent of Sakura blossoms wafted into the empty room. It was Sakura. Her presence calmed his internal struggles, and he was a whole man again. No longer dulled by the chaos of fear, his heartbeat sprang to life, thundering in his ears. If it wasn't for Sakura, he would have been lost to his own demons so long ago. Naruto loved her, and she loved him...that was all that mattered.

His blood flushed his face, and his cheeks burned crimson. Though he was well past his teens, he still felt like a boy in her presence, a lovesick, naive fool. There was such a thrill in their meetings, a rush of feelings and lust; his marriage was devoid of these emotions. She was the only one who could make him relive their days at the academy.

Sakura took off her slippers and entered the living room. A broad smile crossed her face as her eyes met his. He had been waiting for her. "Naruto, you came early?" she asked and placed fresh flowers in the empty vase filled with clear water.

It was her habit. She bought fresh flowers from Ino's shop every day after the team's training with Sasuke, just before the sun came up. They were purple lilies—Sasuke's favorite. Naruto did not know, and she had no intention of telling him. Naruto scratched his head and looked at the flowers quivering in the morning draft that came in through the half-open window.

He smiled and said, "Are those purple lilies? Sasuke likes them, too."

"Really?" she said, feigning surprise. "They are pretty flowers, I guess. A lot of people buy them." She let out a soft laugh and arranged the stems a bit absently.

"Yeah," Naruto leaned back. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Sakura turned around, her heart racing. Could Sasuke really have said something like that to her? Her mouth went dry, but she kept up the pretense of mild surprise. "What is it?" she asked slowly, making sure not to let her voice give away any emotion.

Naruto dropped his gaze to the wooden floor. "It's Hinata," he sighed. "I think . . . I think she has a lover."

Sakura closed her eyes and let out a loud sigh, relieved. "Hinata?" she asked and looked at him intently.

He slowly lifted his blue eyes, meeting the green ones that always calmed his senses. "Sasuke," he trailed off, averting his gaze and missing the look of dread hovering over her wide eyes. "She's been acting strange lately; she thinks I haven't noticed."

Hinata—does she?" Sakura asked, looking surprised.

I don't think she knows about us, about any of this. But Sasuke thinks I don't give her enough time, so she might—he broke off again, and clenched the fingers of his right hand—resort to an affair. It's only fair, no? He looked up and grimaced as though he was in pain; his blue eyes deepened with sorrow and anger. I'm not kind to her. I asked father to end this, but—but he's so stubborn. It's not like it even matters what I say . . . He turned his head away and gazed out of the window. I thought he wanted to say more, but he was silent now.

Sakura did not know what to say. Part of her felt Sasuke's stinging words forever bruised her ego, while another part of her felt strangely numb. Were they not guilty of this, too? Sasuke was hinting at the worst possible scenario for Naruto. This would only add to the burden of his father's sullied name; but he needed them now, more than ever. He would not understand . . .

She walked toward him and planted herself on the sofa by his side. She clasped her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sure Sasuke was just being irritating," Sakura assured, looking at his bowed head with a smile on her face. "You know how he likes to think he's always right. Hinata wouldn't do this. You know how her family is."

Naruto looked up at her and schooled his tense countenance into a calm expression. "You're right," he breathed out, looking sure of himself. "Sasuke can be quite the prick sometimes. He's just trying to scare me." Then he let out a hearty laugh and breathed in the fresh morning air, deeply.

She said, ruffling his hair playfully and kissing him on the tip of his freckle-covered nose. "You always take his words to heart," she added. "You must be hungry. I was about to make rice balls. We have to get ready for the long mission today. You haven't forgotten about that, have you? Sasuke said to come to his office before seven a.m., and it's already six."

Naruto's head snapped toward the wall clock. He then nodded and smiled softly in agreement.

-‐--‐--

Warm sunrays were cast over the forest's vast expanse in the first morning hours. The mist was gone and the air was cool. There was a disordered cacophony of rowdy masses at the gates of Konoha: refugees, but he had left it behind to attend to his own business.

Sasuke stood on Naruto's doorstep now. His eyes wandered off into the distance, and he looked at the small portion of the moors where tall grass was cut off close to the roots and cultivated to yield crops. The sun was just rising above the horizon, sloshing red over grey. He had to get to his office before the clock struck seven.

In his hand was a scroll he had received from Itachi last night. He fisted his hand and rapped on the thick wooden door—this time, more forcefully. Something told him Naruto hadn't come home last night. It seemed that luck was on his side. He wanted to discuss the matter alone with Hinata, and having Naruto around would have only spurred him on to say angry nonsense.

A cool breeze blew the crystals against the door, causing them to clatter loudly. He peered through the worn edges of the crystal, which had been exposed to the elements for far too long. Beyond it, he could see Hinata's silhouette. She stepped out from behind the towering trees, carrying a bucket in one hand and a sickle in the other.

Almost feeling sorry for her ordeal, Sasuke watched as she lifted her downcast eyes. When she met his gaze, he was struck by the warmth that whipped through him and reddened her pale cheeks. Her gaze remained fixed on him, and she slowly walked toward him, her steps unsteady over the muddy field.

"S-Sasuke-sama," Hinata spoke, a bit breathlessly. "Naruto isn't here." She looked away, embarrassed.

"Good," Sasuke said and looked down at her hands covered in bits of grass and mud, "I wanted to talk to you."

Hinata's head snapped up in shock, and her whole face turned red. "T-talk to me?" she asked with hesitancy.

"Yes," he said and adjusted the tall collar of his jacket. "I have to get to the office by seven, so I suggest you invite me inside to discuss this." He gave her a lopsided smile.

She hurriedly moved around him and nervously fumbled with the door latch before sliding it open. Sasuke stepped inside and smelled the fresh aroma of rice balls sitting on the table untouched. She had prepared them for Naruto. "This way," she gestured Sasuke to the living room right across the hall.

He said, "It's all right," as she turned around to face him after closing the door. "We can discuss it here."

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked, putting her hand to her breast. Her heart was racing; something didn't feel right.

"I have received a letter of inquiry this morning," he began, carefully opening the scroll in his hand, "it's about your clan's alleged involvement in an elaborate conspiracy taking place in the Mist Village."

Hinata's eyes popped out in fear; her mouth fell open, but no words came out. Surely, she had misunderstood him?

One of the assistants to the current Mizukage has a Byakugan in his left eye. I know for sure that the eyes seal themselves as soon as any member of the Branch Family dies. How did he come to have a Head Clan's Byakugan in his possession? he asked and cast her an accusatory look.

The color drained from her face, and she looked deathly pale now. She did not know what to say. "I . . . I don't know," she whispered and hung her head in shame.

"I could have conducted the investigation myself, but as the daughter of the clan's Head, I wanted to ask you first," he said, holding his gaze. "I don't want to bring this matter out into the open, considering your clan's present circumstances."

Hinata looked up, her lower lip trembling with emotion. Her eyes left the sharp sword on his back and found his exceedingly handsome face, which was shrouded by the last remaining shadows of early morning. He was still clad in his office clothes, and the letter in his hand was open; and right at its end was an Anbu stamp from his clan's acting Head, ordering him to conduct an investigation into the matter.

"I know my clan isn't as prestigious as yours, nor are we that wealthy or influential, but," she stopped and struggled to hold back tears of shame, "we do have our pride! I can assure you, it's impossible that my clan is in any way involved in the matter."

"I could take your word for it and even believe it word for word," Sasuke said as he rolled up the letter. "But the council certainly won't. The only reason I came here is for you to arrange a meeting with your father. Tell him I know about the matter and ask him to provide some solid evidence in his defense."

I could ask Naruto for help. Maybe Minato-sama would be willing to assist as well.

Minato relinquished his seat as the Daemon Vessel messenger, and Naruto? He scoffed and took a long inhale of breath, "He's too busy with Sakura. But I am sure you know that already. There's no use playing dumb anymore."

"Sasuke-sama," Hinata protested, raising her voice, "it's a private matter. You shouldn't interfere!"

"He's getting slack," he said through clenched teeth, "it's my business, Hyūga Hinata." His red eyes sparked with anger, and his features slightly twisted to show his discontent.

Hinata fell back against the door, as if she were the house of cards in a gentle breeze; her whole body was shuddering with defeat. She had not been able to accept for so long that Naruto had discarded her like a toy for a better one.

It's about time you accepted your clan's place in Konoha and your own in Naruto's family. Minato only used you to wash away the stain on his own reputation.

"You're wrong," her words tumbled out of her lips. "Naruto may have left me, but he isn't that heartless. He won't let his father do that. And my clan is still—it's still respected."

Sasuke towered over her and placed his hand on the door behind her. "It is," he said, "but if they don't come clean, you know where this will lead. Uzumaki and Namikaze will take Hyūga down to the depths of dishonor, painting them as criminals. The sooner you realize this, the better." His warm breath fanned out across her features, feathery light.

"Why are you telling me this?" she finally asked, looking up to locate solace in his red eyes. They were the coals in the hearth: warm and comforting. Why was he changing that now?

"I'm telling you this," Sasuke said, breaking off and narrowing his red eyes dangerously, "to make you understand the gravity of the situation." His smile suddenly grew so mischievous that it made her look back at him in confusion.

He whispered, "I'll help you, just make sure you give your father my message. He would know what to do. Just be a good girl and do as I say." He backed away and opened the door to let the cold air in.

The cool draft tickled Hinata's warm bosom. She heard the door close but did not move to look his away. Her eyes finally darted around the room and found the letter left on the shoe-rack for her . . .

--

Sasuke sat on the tatami-mat spread across the wooden floor. It was getting dark, and a large shadow crept slowly down from the ceiling towards him. He turned his red eyes to the window and watched the smoke rise from the chimney of the infirmary at the heart of Konoha's headquarters.

The cold winds blew inland, so the furnace was kept hot with fresh coal from the mountains to the south, to keep the sick and wounded warm. Sakura was in charge of the ward that fell under his command. One of his injured men lay beneath warm sheets; he was a rookie medic who had nearly gotten himself killed trying to shield another man.

That gave him an opportunity to send Neji off on an investigation. It was a surprise attack during a regular training session—the attacker fled after throwing a few smoke bombs filled with poisonous gas at the team. They were lucky Neji was around; otherwise, he would have lost his entire team. Sakura was leading the Medical Division . . . Lord Sage, his life was becoming so hard!

He scanned his eyes across the room and paused them on Hinata's fingers, which were fumbling quite pointlessly with a single button on the obi, and then on her father, who was intently looking at the scroll Sasuke had brought for this clandestine meeting. Behind the two, he could see the faces of two unknown Hyūga ninjas, their features obscured by the evening shadows.

The grim atmosphere was permeated by heavy tension. Hiashi's usual cold gray Byakugan eyes were stern, and a harsh frown creased his smooth forehead. Sweat trickled down his face, glistening in the candlelight. He did not look pleased, nor did he seem confident.

Sasuke's lips were sealed. He did not know why he had intervened so soon. Now was not the time; but he had to do something for Neji. He was his best friend. If Neji got caught up in a political conspiracy—no matter how thin it seemed for now—it would surely mess up the repute of his clan and his well-founded team.

So he waited and listened to the ticking of the clock and watched the shadows play around the room under the sparse light of a few waning candles. Soon, a cascade of questions would follow this letter of inquiry, and then he would have to play the role of a reconciler. It was irksome and time-consuming, but he had to avert this crisis . . . for now.

Shame was something he always feared. Even the thought of it made his skin and bones shudder like a dry old leaf. Shame—something he never wanted to face or feel. His ears perked up, and he wrinkled his nose like a cunning, wild fox. The clouds overhead had begun to let go of rain, and an earthy smell rushed into the large room as the first drops of autumn rain fell down.

Sasuke brought his gaze back to Hiashi who had just rolled up the scroll and stretched his arm out to place it on the small table between them. Sasuke's cup was still untouched, and it seemed that the evening weather had left the tea cold. Hiashi picked up his own cup to take a small, noiseless sip. His eyes tried to mask the seriousness of the situation, but to Sasuke's cunning gaze, his helplessness was laid bare.

"I," Hiashi began, his eyes glowing with their usual near-white color, "I thank the Uchiha clan for giving us a chance to explain ourselves. We will be forever indebted to you." He placed the cup back on the table, and, as a forced gesture of formality, slowly bent his head down.

"The Uchiha Elders are unaware of this," Sasuke said, watching Hiashi's features crumple and crack that calm mask.

"What do you mean?" Hiashi asked, uncertain where the young Uchiha prodigy was taking the matter.

Thunder roared in the sky, and a sudden blast of wind blew out the candles; but it could not subdue the flames burning with a new light in Sasuke's eyes. Hinata did not need to use her Byakugan to see them. They were visible from a few feet away, burning like embers. She could have sworn they looked different than usual—more intense, almost alive.

Sasuke moved his hand across his face to wipe away a few stray drops of rain. "I didn't want this issue to escalate, so I decided to investigate the matter myself. Once the matter reaches Root division, it will be out of my hands. I need you to present something convincing to stall this matter or bury it altogether. You know what I mean, don't you?" he said and leant forward on his left knee.

Hiashi narrowed his eyes on Sasuke and folded his arms across his breast. "I have taken the corpse out of the grave, and the seal records have been brought out of the storage as well," he said, lowering his eyes to the frayed parts of the tatami-mat. It appeared old compared to the beautiful, new wooden-veneer on the table, the cabinet in the corner, and the newly dug well in the garden. Even the bonsai trees were new. He felt so ashamed of that small old part of the mat.

"Can I see the sealing records?" Sasuke asked and stretched out his hand. His fingertips trembled slightly under the sudden spray of rain. He turned his head to the window forcefully opened by the wind. Then he squeezed his right eye shut as rain splashed the side of his face and neck.

Hiashi looked livid that the servants were still sitting, looking intently at Sasuke's eyes for some strange reason. "Why are you two sitting comfortably?" he said in a heavy voice, and they scrambled to their feet to close the wooden window that was colliding repeatedly into the fragile window-pane.

Sasuke dried his face on his sleeve and lit up the candles with a small Katon Jutsu. "It comes in handy when we are out of light supplies during training—or when such circumstances are simulated," he explained to Hiashi, looking at the puddle of water under the window. "I try my best to keep my team in form. It's tough being a squad leader, and Neji is an invaluable asset. You must understand, I can't lose him to such a baseless acquisition. Unless I don't see anything significant here, I won't take this matter to the higher-ups."

Sasuke's assurance made Hiashi heave a long sigh. He seemed relieved that the matter was under control. He closed his eyes for a moment in thought and opened them to meet Sasuke's gaze. The young man's solid, odd mask terrified him a little. "I understand," he sighed out with an air of relief and stood up. "Please, this way." He gestured with an airy sort of grace.

Sasuke got to his feet and adjusted the handle of a strange looking, long Kunai that rested in a holster tied down to his right thigh. It was made out of Tamahagane with gold carved into it. White and red Uchiha markings were etched in its sharp edge on both sides. It was a gift from Itachi when he got selected as an Espionage Squad leader about two years ago. He never used it, but kept it as a good-luck charm from his brother.

Hinata walked ahead at a slow pace and held an old lantern in her hands. The corridor was narrow, and dozens of scrolls were hung on the walls. Their paints had faded away. They looked so dull now.

"The lights are out because of the storm," Hiashi explained and moved his head round to look at the light bulbs screwed inside a few traditional lanterns. They were out.

The corridor was wide enough for two people to walk side by side; but Sasuke kept his distance. He scrunched his fingers together and placed them gently on the holster. It was foolish to trust this man. He could be involved in that conspiracy by aiding the new Mizukage.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes to tiny pinpricks of red, walking slowly behind them inside the shadows cast by their dark bodies. The light from the lantern was cut into two beams, landing on each side of the corridor, hitting the old Sumi-e scroll paintings on the walls. His desultory mind jumped from Root's involvement in the matter to the possible truth behind Hiashi and Hinata's justifications.

He was already closing in on Danzo, and his involvement in his clan's Police Branch massacre. He just needed a little push, and the man's head was his. He would revel in the feeling from seeing his old, wrinkled face frozen in agony on a stick. It was a joy he so wanted to relish. Sasuke tightened his hold on the hilt, and his eyes formed patterns of the never-ending light of Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.

Hinata stopped before a large door and slid it open. A slight putrid smell escaped the room. This was where they probably kept the bodies before burial. It should have been filled with smells of incense and white wreaths of smoke, but the freshly dug body's odour was overpowering. Few tendrils of white reached out of the room and disappeared quickly in the still air.

"This way," Hiashi said and gestured Sasuke to step inside the room.

Sasuke took in a large intake of breath, as if he was readying himself for a plunge, and stepped inside. The room was fairly large: scrolls filled the large cabinets in the corners, and incense burnt around the body draped with a white cloth. He was unsure what he would even see in a man dead for more than a decade. This was a hopeless endeavour.

Two Medic-nins stood close to the head. It appeared they had tried their best to rejuvenate the body to an extent that it was, at least, recognizable. It took a while for ninjas' bodies to rot. The chakra in their systems kept the body fresh for a couple of years before it fell prey to Nature's cruel mechanisms. If the chakra was potent, the decaying process was much slower. It was a gift for the dead who would not care what became of their bodies, which had no mind nor a soul.

Sasuke turned his eyes to Hiashi. "Why didn't you cremate this man?" he asked and pulled away the cloth to gaze at the man's grey face. Dark veins were bulging out in his face and neck: death, somehow, repulsed him.

Hiashi hung his head. "It was his family's request," he replied and pushed his hands into his long sleeves again. Next to him, Hinata stood tight-lipped, still holding the lantern in her small hands.

Sasuke pulled a scroll out of his pocket and handed it over to one of the medic-nins. They were from his own clan, people he could trust. Both of them were half-Uchihas by blood and never developed Sharingans, so they were put into the Medic-Squad instead. They were good at their jobs; and he was hoping that, one of these days when he would oust Sakura (and that day was not far), he would put one of his own in charge of the small medic team in his Squad.

The medic-nin already had another scroll spread open before him. He opened the scroll Sasuke gave him and placed it next to the other one. Then he made several hand-seals and analyzed the results from the residual chakra glowing on the man's forehead.

He rolled up the scroll and raised his head to look at Sasuke. "It's the same man, Sasuke-Sama," he began and touched the body's head to stop the flow of chakra. "I just analyzed the Chakra and DNA. It appears that he did belong to the Branch family, but a seal was not printed on his forehead."

"Good. Take everything with you and head back to my home-office," Sasuke said, cupping his chin. The men bowed before him, rolled up their scrolls, and left silently. "Why didn't you place a sealing-mark on this man?"

Hiashi remained silent for a few moments to gather his wits. "It was my father's decision. I am completely unaware of it," he said and brought his attention to Sasuke's eyes that were focused on the man's frozen face. He was thinking about something, and it was beginning to upset the Hyūga clan's leader. "He was my father's nephew. Perhaps he grew soft."

"Perhaps," Sasuke said with a smile, "but who knows—I'm not taking this matter to any higher-ups. But I will take Nii-Sama into confidence. He might know something about your father's decision. It was a time of war after all.

"Consider this matter dismissed from my side, but it isn't completely out of the way yet. You should try and look closely into your clan's matters during the previous Great War. It will benefit you more than me." He stretched his hand and covered the man's naked face again, hiding it from the living.

"I cannot thank you enough," Hiashi said with utmost gratitude. His face looked tired. The accusation had taken such a toll on him overnight.

"Hinata," Sasuke said, diverting his attention to her, "you should come with me. Naruto might be back already. I don't want him to know about this. It's dark outside, and it's dangerous to go alone through the woods."

"F-Father, I—" Hinata stuttered in a childish voice and placed the lantern on the table, "—I should head back now."

Hiashi placed his hand on his daughter's head. He could see how the rosy colour in her youthful cheeks had faded a little. He did not want to press her, but he was sure she was not happy. He watched her with a rueful countenance as she shyly followed Sasuke out of the room. He looked at the waning candle that dribbled wax on the white cloth. Half of its wick was under the melted wax, subduing the intensity of the light. Somehow, the candle reminded him of his daughter's waning youth.

Sasuke and Hinata walked on the small trail strewn with yellow leaves, to her home. For the first time since her marriage, she realized how far her house was from her father's sanctuary. She looked at her feet and the slippers dirtied by the mud. The rain had almost stopped, and a few drops still fell down upon them from the leaves overhead. It appeared that the wind had slackened off as well and rain was letting up.

Sasuke walked quietly beside her. In one hand, he carried a strong flame. The light radiating from it hit the trail ahead, and she could see very clearly now. Her feet were getting numb, as unlike Sasuke, her toes were muddy and wet; but she did not complain. He had lent them a helping hand, even if it was because of Neji, she was still grateful.

Finally, after walking in silence for quite some time, her lonely house loomed into view. The overgrown grass on the field, and the portion she had cultivated, swayed in the slow wind under the sparse light of the moon. The lights were on, but she was sure Naruto was not home. It was an instinct she had developed over these years, but it never failed her.

They walked on the twisting trail and reached the front door. Sasuke took out the letter of inquiry and changed his eyes to a different pattern. Hinata watched in amazement as he opened his left eye wide. Blood trailed down the eye, and before she could even blink, a very small black flame converged on the scroll and it turned to ash there and then. It happened so fast!

"The letter of Inquiry is gone," Sasuke said, his voice breaking into her thoughts, "that solves one matter. Keep this a secret from Naruto. Don't tell him anything. Don't make him think there is anything wrong with your clan. Do you understand?"

Hinata nodded absentmindedly. He looked at her, huffed out a short breath, and mumbled, "Nii-Sama would kill me . . . "

And then he walked away from her at a slow pace. He disappeared behind the woods—just like he always did—and left her standing outside the door on the wet porch. Naruto was still not home. It was starting to feel like a habit . . .