Day 5

- Forehead Touches -

Kakashi was not Sasuke's first introduction to the world of adult pastimes (and by past times, he means, of course, sexual intimacy). Sasuke didn't happen across one of his teacher's little, risqué books after a long day of training or anything like that. He wasn't like Naruto, who constantly tried to snatch that book right out from under his nose.

His first step into that world happened just a few months before he was tied into a team of idiots that was aptly called Team 8. He'd been freshly twelve with a starving conscience that hungered for revenge every waking hour. He did not scout it out, because Uchiha Sasuke wasn't interested. His brother was out there. His family was dead. He had a goal, and nothing would get in his way.

Until it did.

Briefly.

It had been in plain sight — that book. "Plain sight", meaning it was on the steps of a local shrine, just . . . sitting there. It was as if some teenager had it with him, but had to leave in a hurry. It was open, basking in the sunlight. Sasuke was returning from a secluded aiming spot he used to frequent often. When he had seen an open book in the distance, laying out on the steps of a shrine with no one around, he'd been curious (yes — even avengers can be curious about things).

He'd gone over, just to peek at the contents. He had expected paragraphs of words, not —

Not pictures.

Not photos. Not those kinds of photos — with people in poses and costumes — holding things — with purple eyeshadow and red, glossy lips and heavy, vixen eyelashes.

There was a woman on one of the exposed pages, dressed in barely anything, with a curled finger tempting Sasuke over. She looked out from the page like she could see him — and —

Sasuke ran.

He stopped going to that aiming spot. He never tried to catch a look at Kakashi's books.

It's been about nine years since that day. Almost a decade.

So why is he bringing this up now?

Well.

None of the books Sai has graciously allowed him to borrow are risqué, per se. There are no temptresses with eyes that can see past the gloss paper of photos in a book. There's nothing inherently inappropriate.

But still, it fills Sasuke with a sloppy, bubbling, unnerving feeling that is far too similar to what he'd experienced all those years back. If this were an abandoned book on the steps of a shrine, he'd run all the way home without looking back.

But it isn't, and he's in his home, on his bed, staring at the words on the page.

The very same words he's been staring at for twenty minutes because, for whatever reason, he just can't make sense of what he's reading. The words fall hollow in his brain. Maybe it's his nerves, or his slight shame that he has to read a book of all things to learn how to woo a woman — but nothing is clicking with him, and he's soon throwing his head back, dropping the book onto his mattress, sighing.

This is impossible.

Three weeks have passed since he's started meeting Hinata daily.

To . . . work-out, sure, but they're still meeting up, and he takes her out to breakfast, sometimes — and — and . . .

. . . And in those three weeks, Sasuke has been able to do nothing but secure one thing: Hinata is perfectly comfortable with seeing him as a friend.

Which isn't totally bad. A mere month ago, they were practically strangers. Estranged childhood acquaintances, at the very least! There's definitely been a good amount of progress.

But Sasuke feels like he should be a little further into it in the time span he's been given. She sees him strictly as a friend. If he was doing things better, surely she'd have some inclination of romance.

In other words: Sasuke is failing to get her to consider a more romantic relationship with him.

Which is why he's reading these stupid books with these stupid words that make him feel weird and stupid!

This isn't helping me. Moping in his room does nothing but aggravate him, so Sasuke throws his legs over the side of the bed, stands, and shoves his shoulder into the door when exiting his room. The evening noise of Konoha seeps in through the walls, and Sasuke is not exactly thrilled about the idea of going outside and dealing with the crowd. But staying home is out of the question, too! Ever since Kakashi had first confronted him about Hinata, he's been nothing but a pestering bastard! Sasuke would rather read books that irritate him than ask that old man for any advice.

Outside it is, then.

But the second Sasuke's foot finds the bottom of the staircase, he's presented with a rather odd situation.

There's Pakkun, sitting on a velvet stool in the corner, with plants and throw pillows decorating the area around him. Sai is in front of him, hunched over a canvas as he sketches the outline of the dog, with Kakashi next to his shoulder, watching him work his magic with a hand to his chin.

Most noteworthy is the sofa that once resided in the corner where Pakkun sits is now against the front door.

Sasuke is trapped.

"There you are," Kakashi hums, not even looking away from the canvas.

Sai at least has the decency to look Sasuke's way. "I would have come to greet you earlier, but Kakashi explained you were reading my books."

Sasuke had been considering running over to Sai's to talk about those very books.

But now he's here.

Somehow, it feels like Kakashi set this up on purpose.

Nosy bastard.

...

"You're kidding me."

These are the words spoken by Hatake Kakashi once he learns that Sasuke committed the brilliant act of asking his crush to be his work-out partner. Trust the man: he knows that wasn't a good idea. But it was all he could come up with, and it hasn't resulted in the worst thing possible!

But, well — it hasn't exactly resulted in the best thing possible, either.

Sai takes a moment to focus his pencil lines on Pakkun's muzzle. He gives the dog a rather pointed stare that any commoner would regard as a glare and wonder why a man would be shooting such a nasty look at a dog. This, however, is Sai's concentrating face. Only when he's finished with the basic shape of the nose does he speak.

"I am not joking." He turns from dog to sketch, comparing the two. "I witnessed it with my own eyes a handful of times. Really, in the beginning, it left me quite —" That pointed look softens into one Sasuke recognizes. Sai gets it often when he tries to recall information he's learned from his books, "mystified."

Another word that sounds familiar, but Sasuke can't exactly pin a definition to it. He keeps to himself, however. He's not liking this conversation thus far, and speaking will only draw more attention to him.

Kakashi, in the worst kind of awe, collapses onto the sofa pressed against the front door. "I can't believe it."

He's talking like Sasuke burned her house down or something! Seriously. It wasn't that bad.

But no matter how many times Sasuke tells himself that, he can't shake off the feeling that he's totally ruined his chances with Hinata.

Kakashi, head leaning into his open palm, finds Sasuke's gaze. "You like her, don't you?"

His tone is rather accusatory, which Sasuke finds offensive. "Of course, I do."

"Maybe you don't know the difference." Kakashi leans forward, suddenly in a serious pose. "There's a difference between liking someone as a friend and liking someone as a woman —"

"I know that!"

"Right now — waking up to meet her for a morning jog — that's how you'd treat a friend."

A bitter, raw taste drills into his tongue as Sasuke glares into the floorboards. He knows that, too. He knew the second he came up with this awful plan! But there's something about Hinata — he doesn't know what it is, but it's constantly present. It's in her talking, or the way she holds herself when she thinks no one is watching. It's an electrifying fear shaking through her core when he says something as simple as "I want to be with you". If he was more persistent — if he dragged her into candlelit dinners and kissed her goodnight on the front step of her home — he's sure she'd run.

He needs to be slow with Hinata.

"I don't want to mess this up."

He doesn't realize he said that out loud until Kakashi stands to rustle his hair.

"I get it," he says. "It's a first. Firsts aren't easy."

Sai takes a split second to look over his shoulder at them. "Most of my books say that confidence is key."

"You need to think about what you can bring to this relationship," Kakashi adds. "If you can pinpoint a few things and focus on that, you'll have an easier time understanding what you need to show off to get her attention and see you in a different light."

The bitterness does not leave his mouth. It stays and froths. It slides down his throat and churns in his stomach.

Standing in Kakashi's home, trapped, Sasuke frowns down at himself.

"What can I offer?"

He doesn't have much. He has a name that collects dust in Konoha libraries and a reputation that makes him ugly and horned in the reflections of windows. He has a missing arm and phantom pains and eyes that are only useful when you experience crippling, harmful misery. His wallet is sparse most of the time. Hell, he sleeps in a closet in his old mentor's house!

Uchiha Sasuke has nothing.

Nothing.

"Well." Sai taps the end of his pencil against his chin, smiling an almost-genuine smile. "You have one thing."

"Right," Sasuke sighs. "Sure."

"You have sperm."

It takes a moment to hit. Probably because Sasuke can't imagine anyone would have the courage to say such a thing in open daylight, in front of their teacher, to his face.

Turns out — Sai is a brave man.

And Sasuke thinks, for once, the rumors might be true. Maybe he is part dragon.

Because he feels the burn of fire under his skin. His shoulders are red with the shine of scales.

He is absolutely glowing.

And — what was the word Sai used earlier? Mystical? Mysterious?

"I'm . . . I'm not giving Hinata . . . ."

"That's a shame. I heard she wants to be a mother."

Mystified.

That's it.

...

It takes Kakashi six minutes to come down from his laughing trip. Pakkun, seeing that the attention has moved momentarily to Sasuke, takes a second to stretch and scratch at the back of his ear.

Sai's concerned expression makes Sasuke almost yell — "Not yet! I have to get her to like me first!"

But that is on the same level as telling someone to give their crush their sperm, so Sasuke sinks down on the floor next to Sai's chair. His red cheeks feel like a rash, so he scratches at them, and Sai turns back to his canvas.

...

For once, Sasuke's glad their daily work-out session has to be postponed. When Shikamaru had droned about how Gai's pushing to knock down an abandoned home the evening before, Sasuke already knew where the conversation was going. Upon being asked to clean out the home and throw any junk out before the construction workers stop by to take a look at the place, Sasuke agreed almost immediately, and Shikamaru's expression was sturdy and suspicious as he slipped him the needed paperwork to sign for taking up such a mission.

That night, Sasuke wrote a letter to Hinata, explaining he'd be busy in the morning and unable to meet up with her.

It's not that he doesn't want to see her.

Actually, it's the opposite.

But ever since that talk with Kakashi and Sai, he's wondered about the worth he owns as a person. Sasuke does not believe he is a worthless man. He has fixed rooftops and brought power back to half of Konoha after heavy blizzards. He can fix a leaking sink as well and as thoroughly as he can track down a wanted criminal.

Throughout Konoha, there's a bit of him everywhere, and that means something. Ten months ago, all he had was a cursed name and a terrifying history. Those things still haunt him like the phantoms of his clan, but now he has skills, and he has people he trusts, and he has a Hokage that pushes him to be a better version of himself.

Uchiha Sasuke does have worth.

But in relation to Hyuuga Hinata, what is there that he can offer her exactly?

What can he give her that she can't give herself?

He wants to search and find that answer before he sees her again.

That morning, he wakes up with a goal in mind. He dresses in clothes he does not mind getting ruined, and then he's off to follow the sun to his next mission.

...

The older couple that live in the orange house whisper that the Uchiha looks different today.

A few genin passing by wonder if the dragon is in a good mood today.

A few ladies talking by their mailboxes pause in conversation, surprised, wondering what could cause the traitor to have a face like that.

Sasuke hears it all.

The people of Konoha aren't good at being quiet, you see.

...

It's not a hard building to find — for two reasons.

1) It has a jagged chimney that only years of abandonment can cause. Or, perhaps, it was abandoned because of the chimney. Sasuke's not quite sure about the order; and

2) Hinata's sitting on the bench in front of it.

. . . Wait.

"Good morning, Sasuke!"

She greets him like she often does. It's cheerful and warm, like a summer sky. Oftentimes, she would put more vigor into her greetings, as if she expects him to be more excited about working out if she starts the morning off with a bang.

Only thing is: they are not having a session this morning, and she shouldn't be here.

Stumped, Sasuke enters through the rickety gate that encircles the property. The grass of the lawn is overgrown, nearly reaching his knees, and the stone pathway up to the front is cracked and uneven. Sasuke idly wonders what Gai plans to do with the land after the house is demolished. Will he add another park? Perhaps a skating rink will be planned out. They only have one in the center of town, after all.

Hinata is wearing the same kind of clothes that he's wearing, with holes at the hem and mud stains along the sleeves.

It's as if she's —

"I understand Lord Hokage asked you to empty out this building before noon." So startled by her unexpected presence, Sasuke hadn't even realized her byakugan was activated until the veins around her eyes disappear, chakra flooding back to her core. "There's a lot of furniture to bring out, so we should hurry and get to it."

Smiling, she steps onto the wooden porch, which creaks beneath her weight.

Sasuke stays planted on the pathway. "You're helping?" he asks.

"I asked Lee if I could lend a hand."

Of course Lee agreed. The man is notoriously known for having not only a passionate love for partnership, but also for having a soft spot for his late teammate's cousin.

Hinata waits a beat longer on the porch, then shifts. "Um. Is that okay?"

Well, hell.

Lee's not the only one with a soft spot.

"Yeah."

Hinata gleams. Sasuke pulls the key Shikamaru handed to him from his pocket, unlocking the front door to allow the both of them entrance. He miserably follows her into the den, a strange concoction of content and discontent brewing in his stomach.

Hadn't he just decided he wouldn't see her until he figured things out?

And compared to working out, this is equally as unromantic!

Kakashi and Sai were right.

He's hopeless.

...

Inside, it looks like a haunted house. Dust floats through the air and serves as a blanket for furniture. Cobwebs hang from the ceiling. It's dark and deserted.

Hinata is first to throw herself into the mission, opening all the doors and windows so that sunlight and fresh air can sweep through the rooms. Sasuke starts with hauling the smaller furniture into the yard, finding a spot in the lawn that's far and big enough to stack most of the stuff they bring out. It's only on his third trip out when Hinata suggests making two separate piles: one for furniture they can donate, and one for junk that would have to go to the dump.

He leaves her in the yard to go back inside, where he sighs his wonder into the air dancing with dust.

How is she able to make something as tedious as hauling furniture a better experience?

Or . . . maybe he's just lovesick.

Or both.

Probably both.

...

"I think this fits you."

When he comes back out to throw a termite-chewed side table into the junk pile, Hinata turns to show off a musical box. It's clearly ancient and worn with time, but the carved outlines of a bird of some kind can be seen on the front. When opened, Sasuke can see the inside is less of a mess, though the colors are dull and murky. When he squints, he thinks the walls look like rock, and the bottom looks like water.

"This is a sound tube," Hinata says, pointing to the metal cylinder with bumps protruding from it. It's large, taking up a good portion of the box. "And this is the comb, I think." She gestures to the piece next to the cylinder. When she rotates the handle, the cylinder spins, and the bumps hit the comb and create a sound. "I had a great aunt that used to make these."

Hinata spins it some more, slowly and carefully, and a gentle melody sings from the box.

Sasuke doesn't recognize the song, but Hinata hums to it, so he asks, "Do you know it?"

She thinks, then shakes her head. "No. Not really."

With that, she shuts the lid and holds it out for him. He takes it, the detailed design of the wood rough against his thumb. He examines it a little more, wondering what about this could possibly remind her of him.

"You should bring it home," she says.

Nodding, he places it on the bench at the front, away from both piles.

"Do you want anything else?" Hinata rolls her shoulder towards the pile.

He tries to smile. "I don't have much room."

"Oh." They enter the home together. The dining table is long, the many chairs having already been taken outside. Hinata grabs one end, and Sasuke grabs the other, and they carry it out together. "Where do you live?"

For only a moment, he hesitates to answer. "With Kakashi. I'm renting a room."

Disgust or disappointment is not what comes to her face. Nor is it pity, which is the most reliving thing. Hinata's face is almost gleeful, taking up a wide smile as they set the table down. Her hands clasp together, and Sasuke watches, amused.

"That's perfect!" she says. "Isn't that great of him? Even now — all these years — it's good that he still watches over you all." Her gaze turns, then dips, and her smile trembles and wobbles for a second, but she's quick to recover. "He lives in the busy part of Konoha, doesn't he?"

The noise and cacophony banging outside of his room's window stabs into Sasuke's senses, and he holds back a groan. "Something like that."

"I can't imagine that's cheap." Dusting her hands, she hops up the staircase with Sasuke following suit. "How much is rent?"

Now this is a tricky question. Somehow, he feels like he'll be throwing his teacher under the bus if he answers this truthfully. "It's not awful."

That makes Hinata pause and turn around. "How much, Sasuke?"

He's not sure what it is — maybe it's the way her voice dips that makes her sound overprotective, like she'll grab Kakashi by the ear if she hears he's taking advantage of Sasuke's lack of home. Or maybe it's how her mouth twists that make her look as unthreatening as possible. Either way, Sasuke feels his heart skip, and a very pleased sensation washes over his body.

When he tells her, it's in a whisper, like it's a secret.

She gasps, a hand going to her mouth. "That's awful!" she yelps. "My rent isn't even that much."

He had planned to explain to her why it was high in the first place, but his mind catches onto a line of thinking, and he can't stop himself.

"Then I suppose I should move in with you."

Hinata laughs, arm sweeping through the air to gesture at the empty first floor of the building. "With how quick you are with cleaning, I might let you."

She thinks he was playing with her.

She's joking.

He knows this all, but the fact that she didn't shoot down the suggestion immediately makes it hard to fight the smile off his face as Sasuke follows her up the staircase to the second floor.

...

They take a small break after pushing a few bed frames down the stairs and into the junk pile in the yard. Hinata, naturally, brought an early lunch for them to share, and when they're done eating, they relax against the bench and melt in the summer heat, resting their legs and arms for just a few more moments.

Conversation is light. She's asking him mostly about his time spent with Kakashi. Hinata seems glad that he doesn't live alone, and that makes him wonder. But before he can for too long, she pipes up again.

"Are you okay in Konoha?" she asks. "Do you feel at home here?"

A dark street fills his memories. They had met at a crossroads. She'd just come back from Suna. He'd only been in Konoha for less than a month. She looked at him like a stranger, then as a memory, then as a person, real and tangible.

That had been about nine months ago.

They had both been away from Konoha for a while; him longer, of course. But he grew accustomed to it, and he had thought she did, as well.

But then, when he welcomed her home that day weeks ago, she'd been close to tears.

"Do you?" Sasuke asks.

In her hands is the music box. She plays with the handle, sometimes turning it, and the song is muffled and quiet beneath the shut lid. Her nails scrape the bird design, and Sasuke thinks about his mother's china.

"I don't know," she says. "I don't know where I belong."

He recognizes those thoughts — because those are all that filled his head when he was young, angry and isolated with everything and everyone. It ate him up. It scratched at his back until he bled. It ricocheted through his dreams until he could hardly stand it.

That was a miserable time.

And now, Hinata is living through it.

His silence makes things heavy. Her face turns pink, so she stands and nervously rubs her hands down the legs of her pants.

"S-Sorry," she says. "Let's get back to work."

She springs up the porch and into the home. Dust picks up and spirals in her wake.

Sasuke can feel the warmth of her hand in the carvings of the music box. He remembers how he wanted nothing more than for that hand to touch him, to soothe the crookedness out of his soul, to tell him he's okay, to ease him into her shoulder. Sometimes, as a genin, he had dreamt of that, too. Those were the nights he slept in and woke up almost peacefully.

He stays a second longer, and then he leaves to join her in the house.

...

Upon trying to pull a painting off the wall, Hinata accidentally underestimates her strength and sends the bottom of the frame straight into her forehead.

She doesn't yelp in pain. Actually, she laughs like she's ashamed for such a rookie mistake, and Sasuke had been sure it was nothing serious based off of that reaction alone.

Until a small line of blood peeks out from under her bangs.

"Hinata," he says. "Come downstairs. You're bleeding."

Her hand swipes her forehead, and upon the glisten of red on her fingers, she does as he says.

They sit on the porch, in the sunlight. He pushes her bangs back to examine the wound, glad to find it's just a scratch only deep enough to cause a tad bit of bleeding. Hinata is already pulling out the miniature aid kit from her pouch, ripping open a band-aid as Sasuke takes a small rag to wipe the blood away.

"It's not bad," she says, because she knows based off of how he's not rushing her to the hospital that it can't be anything severe.

He nods as he pushes the band-aid over the scratch. "It's not."

"Thank you," Hinata whispers.

Blood cleaned and wound bandaged, nothing else is needed — and yet, Sasuke's hand stays. Her bangs curl along the back of his hand, and the pads of his fingers press into the skin of her forehead. Slowly, he traces the leaf symbol.

"Konoha," she recognizes.

He traces Suna's symbol next, and she keeps quiet.

Then it's Amegakure.

Kirigakure.

Hoshigakure, Hacho village, Iwagakure . . .

His fingers slope, then cross, then circle; and when he's done, they rest.

"Everywhere."

Her eyes lift from the fog of her focus to find him.

"You belong everywhere," he tells her. "No matter where you go, you make it home. Especially in Konoha. Especially —" His voice almost fails, so he pauses, controls the waver in his voice, then continues, "for me."

Hyuuga eyes shake, but they do not glow with tears. They're glassy, but not because she's crying. Her head bows, pushing her forehead further against his fingers, and he sees down the line of her nose. It's painted red, and her ears are pink.

"Thank you."

Noon slowly creeps closer. Soon, the construction people will be here to check out the building; but for now, Sasuke and Hinata sit on that old, abandoned porch. They feel like they belong here, amongst furniture and paintings and items that feel the same way they have. They look on into Konoha beyond the yard, and they think: Maybe. Maybe I can make my own home here.

...

Before coming home, Sasuke stops by the library to grab a book. The woman at the front desk, mesmerized by the music box sandwiched under his arm, jumps into an excited question — but upon seeing his face, she pales, and she scans his book, and she hides behind her desk until he's fully left the building.

When he gets home, he rests the book and the music box on the counter.

Kakashi, in the middle of making lunch, stops to read the title.

"Cleaning antiques?" He doesn't have to ask what kind. The music box is in clear sight.

"Shikamaru said I could keep it."

Kakashi smiles. "Just Shikamaru?"

Sasuke doesn't fall into that trap. He just stands by the counter, waiting for lunch to be finished. He flips through the pages, reading them carefully, every so often resting his hand against the music box. Her warmth is still there, and it makes him greedy for more.

But he's a patient man.

Because it was Hinata that dragged him out of that lonely whirlpool of unbelonging. It was her memory that stayed with him through Orochimaru, through the war.

Now it's his turn to pull her out, to help her breathe in the fresh air.

This is what he can offer.

This is what he can give.

And he will.