Day 9
- Cooking Together -
July 23rd.
The day a devil was born.
"Devil?" Naruto scratches the whiskers on his chin. "Isn't that giving you too much credit?"
"Wrong, Naruto," Sakura sighs. "You're supposed to say 'you're no devil, Sasuke'."
"Then you say it, Sakura."
"I just did, idiot!"
This is how his birthday has turned out. Truthfully, Sasuke woke up that morning dreading it — actually, before that! He went to bed hoping a meteor struck or a giant flood took up the streets of the village so he'd spend his birthday pulling civilians out of the water or out of rubble rather than celebrate that amazing achievement of turning twenty-one. No such thing happened, and when he came down from bed, Kakashi had already decided with Sakura and Naruto and Sai where they'd be taking him for lunch.
Ichiraku's.
Who would have guessed, right?
But he's not opposed to any of this on the larger scale. If he had to rate it on a scale of 1 - 10, with 1 being not opposed at all, he'd say his opposition would be safely around a 5. He'd much rather be gifted a mission to put a few more bills into his pocket, but Gai had strictly forbidden Shikamaru from offering any jobs the day of his birthday. The only thing keeping Sasuke from sending the Hokage a rather nasty letter in the mail is the promise that he'll be given a C-Rank soon.
Free food is not a bad gift, though, even if it is ramen.
Ayame had even been kind enough to serve his food in one of the special bowls decorated with dragons that they only used on special occasions. Naruto had roared in awe upon seeing it, and Sai was keen to analyze the details of the scales before Sasuke was served again and thus had noodles hiding most of the design away.
They gobbled like idiots — idiots who have stuck with him through all these years.
Complain, though he might, Sasuke is not irked in the slightest.
He eats his ramen and listens to Naruto and Kakashi's outrageous stories from their genin days. He pipes up every so often to correct something Naruto (probably intentionally) gets wrong, and he gives more details when Sai seems lost in a story he did not experience.
And it's . . . okay.
A devil was born on July 23rd —
"Not this again," Naruto sighs.
— but it's not the worst day in the world.
...
When they run out of stories to tell, they hop onto recent happenings within their group.
Sakura always has a tale about some outlandish thing happening at the hospital, whether it be wild injuries or rowdy patients or doctors that simply get on her nerves. Sai talks a little about his paintings and what landscapes he's studying. He stays away from the topic of Ino, so Sasuke's sure not to mention it.
Naruto does not hold back in bragging about his missions, which happen to be much more dangerous and critical than D-Rank. Still, if they were to get into it, Sasuke knows Naruto would not turn his nose to the work Sasuke's been doing. Even ANBU would weep at some of the jobs he's taken, so Sasuke just lets the idiot go on and on, snorting at things he's sure he's exaggerating.
When the conversation turns to him, Sasuke isn't sure what to say.
"Anything exciting recently?" Naruto asks.
"Every day is exciting," Sasuke drones, stirring his third bowl of ramen.
Sakura leans over the bar to find his eye. "I saw the inclines you installed. Thank you for your hard work."
"Mn."
The conversation trickles off, and though the silence is not stiff, it has the need to be filled. Naruto and Sakura aren't the kind to drift in prolonged bouts of silence, so their eyes swim, trying to figure out ways to get him to talk more.
Sai, reading the air, helps them with that.
"He's been borrowing my books," he notes, "to help him woo a girl."
Suddenly, the air of conversation flips on its side. Even Ayame and Teuchi, overhearing, stop scrubbing their bowls to gawk. Sakura blinks like the problem is with her eyes, not her ears, as Naruto whirls around to drill an accusatory stare into Sasuke's profile.
Kakashi gives Sai a look. "Let's not —"
"Who!?" Naruto exclaims.
Now Kakashi's giving him a look. "Naruto —"
"Hinata," Sai answers, not at all aware of the mess he's just created.
Naruto's expression instantly warps, changing into a meek surprise with heavy eyes that look at nothing in particular, artfully and suddenly avoiding everyone's gazes. He shifts, his stool rocking with his body, and quietly turns back to swirling the broth of his ramen.
Sakura is equally surprised, though not entirely as meek. Her mouth opens and closes, pinches, then slants. It's hard to tell how she feels about the sudden news. She's blissfully blank, and Sasuke holds back from demanding a word from her, if only to understand where she stands on this. She'd once had a crush on him, which turned painful with his leave and his mistreatment of her. Their bond is shaky, but building up slowly, and he hopes this does not break it again. Not again.
"Sai," Kakashi says, disapproval sharp in his tone, "that's not something you get to decide on your own to share."
With the mood completely changed, it's easy for Sai to realize he's messed up.
"I'm sorry," he says, to Kakashi first, then to Sasuke. "That wasn't right of me."
"But it's true." Sasuke keeps his gaze on Naruto. "I'm interested in Hinata."
Sakura, if only to fill the silence that Naruto refuses to fix, speaks. "That's . . . good, Sasuke."
Her words ring true, and Sasuke offers a small, thankful smile.
Naruto still says nothing.
"I'm sorry," Sai says again.
Kakashi exhales and rests a hand on his head. "Can't change the past. Don't beat yourself up over it."
"Is that an issue?" Sasuke kicks Naruto's stool to make sure he knows he's addressing him. "Oi."
When Naruto finally looks back at him, his grin is forced. "Why would it be?" His laugh is forced, too. "Hinata's a good person, unlike you."
"Hinata? Hyuuga Hinata?" Ayame coos next to her father, then giggles. "She's lovely, isn't she? Just the right person to snatch our Sasuke's heart."
He'd like to agree, but he keeps to himself and finishes his ramen.
Slowly, awkwardly, they drift back into another conversation. Naruto regains his spunk, and Sakura acts as she normally does aside from a few looks she sends Sasuke's way. They finish their lunch and admire the dragon bowl one last time before paying and leaving.
...
Back at Kakashi's place, they exchange gifts and play cards and eat a homemade dinner Kurenai helped Kakashi make.
Hyuuga Hinata is not something that drifts away completely. It's in the corners of their minds that they choose to ignore. When Naruto's not chatting his mouth off, he rubs at his neck like it's sore and develops a strange expression that looks stuck. It pisses Sasuke off everytime he sees it.
When everyone else is cleaning up in the kitchen, Sasuke drags Naruto down the hallway, determined to get him to spill his mind before he spills it for him.
Thankfully, Naruto isn't acting like the idiot he usually is; he knows what's happening here, and he's the one to speak first.
"I don't care about you having a thing for Hinata."
"Uh-huh." Sasuke is going to need a lot more than that to be convinced.
"Really! It's hard to explain — but I — I am happy for you."
"Naruto, I have a thing for her. We're not dating." Yet. But Sasuke keeps that last part to himself.
"Right," Naruto murmurs. "Right."
"You said it's hard to explain, but try. Try to explain so I can understand."
They stand across from each other in the narrow hallway. Sasuke's against one wall, and Naruto's against the other, and they stand and shift and try to push through the thick air.
Eventually, Naruto groans and crouches, face planted in his hands. "I'm an idiot."
Sasuke agrees. "And?"
"And I was awful to her."
"When she confessed to you?" He's heard enough stories about the whole ordeal. He could probably cite the whole thing word for word despite him not even being around during that time.
"Yeah," Naruto grumbles. "Over two years ago, I took her on a date. I tried to force it to work, but it didn't, and I hurt her in the end." Slowly, his hands slipped from his face, and he stared up at Sasuke towering over him. "I gave her expectations I couldn't meet."
Sasuke huffs. "What's this got to do with me?"
"And after that, she had a thing for Kankuro, but that hurt her, too. Twice. She's been hurt twice, and I was one of the reasons — and . . . ."
Understanding, finally, Sasuke finishes his sentence. "And you're worried I'll be Heartbreak #3."
"I lied earlier," Naruto says. "You are a good guy, and Hinata's a great girl — and I don't expect you to do anything to hurt her."
"So what's the issue?"
"I wasn't aiming to hurt her," Naruto says, "but I did. And over two years later, it's still between us, and she doesn't trust people like she used to." Over the course of a few, prolonged seconds, Naruto lifts himself onto his feet to stand straight once again. "Even if you don't mean to hurt people, sometimes you still do."
Right.
He knows more than most people what it's like to hurt people, intentionally or not. And he'd be stupid if he couldn't admit he's worried about the exact same thing — that he'll earn her trust and love, only to throw it all away in the end. It's happened before, with Sakura. Who is to say it won't happen again?
But Sasuke's a changed man, he likes to think.
He knows what choices he'll make and what consequences to expect.
He won't be another Naruto or Kankuro.
He's sure of it.
"You sure worry a lot."
Naruto gives a snort. "Hey, I'm tryin' to right my wrongs here."
"I'm not going to hurt her," Sasuke reassures.
"Right." Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Naruto forces himself to nod along with him. "Right. Yeah, I know. Really, I don't even have a right to worry for her sake."
Satisfied enough, Sasuke pushes off the wall and elbows Naruto's shoulder. "If you really are able to right your wrongs, I might be able to convince her to invite you to our wedding."
"What!?" Naruto barks and laughs, following him out of the hallway. "No way! I'm totally getting married first, and you'll be the lucky one to get invited!"
They go back to their unfinished game of cards, with Sakura and Kakashi and Sai joining them one at a time. They pretend like they've just had to wash a lot of dishes, like they weren't listening in to a conversation between two friends, Sakura sighing in relief and Sai taking notes and Kakashi tiredly complaining about the complexities of young love.
...
On July 23rd, Uchiha Sasuke is not expecting to see Hinata on his birthday.
She left for a mission four days ago, and he's not sure when she'll be back, but it won't be today.
Night has already come, and Kakashi wishes him a final happy birthday before disappearing into his room. Sasuke returns to his bed, as well, and stares at the dark ceiling as he waits for sleep to take over. He thinks about how he's glad, despite himself, that no flood or meteor came to destroy Konoha. He thinks about how eating with his old team feels like those dusty, dim memories of eating with his family, his mother making sure he eats all his vegetables and Itachi always slipping him an extra onigiri when no one was paying attention.
He thinks about Hinata, about how he'll be waiting for her at the gate tomorrow, and the day after that, and for all the days after that until she's back. She'll apologize about missing his birthday, and he'll tell her there's one way in particular she can make it up to him — and maybe she'll make him food, or maybe she'll take him out, or maybe . . . she'll kiss him . . . .
And something, surely . . . will change . . . .
...
There's a tap on the window nine minutes before midnight.
Sasuke stirs from his light sleep to find Hinata at the pane, smiling, waving at him. Quickly, he slides off his mattress and opens it for her. She doesn't come inside. She stays balanced on the miniature balcony meant for potted plants.
"Happy Birthday," she whispers, as if she's scared she'll wake up the snoozing Kakashi all the way downstairs.
"You're . . . here," is all he can think to say.
"I rushed." Her smile is lopsided. "I'm sorry, but I don't have your gift. I plan to bake it once I get home, so —"
"Now?" he asks.
She nods. "Yes. Once I get home."
Which means she'll be planning to leave soon. But he doesn't want her to. She just got here.
"I'll come with you."
She laughs because she thinks he's joking, but he isn't. He grabs a light jacket from his closet to throw over his t-shirt and motions for her to move so he can slip out onto the balcony with her.
"Sasuke," she says, "it's not much of a surprise gift if you're there."
"It doesn't need to be a surprise."
His word is final, and she gives him room to join her in the damp, summer night.
...
When they arrive at her home, she changes out of her mission clothes first, and then she pulls out all of the ingredients and presents them on the open and clean counter. When asked what they'd be preparing, she tells him he'll have to figure that out on his own, and he tugs the strings of her apron playfully as she fetches one for him.
So far, it could be anything, for all Sasuke can tell.
She prompts him with a bowl and whisk, and she pours out measurements of sugar (a startling amount, if you ask him) and cornstarch and cream cheese, telling him to blend it all together until it's smooth. He works at it, following some delicate instructions that he simply nods to as if he's a helpless child, though Sasuke, of course, has whisked things before.
She's making something in her own bowl for a while, but upon looking over at him, Hinata laughs.
"You're going much too hard at it, Sasuke," she says, patting her hands along her apron as she comes to his side. "You're going at it like you're trying to kill it."
"Hm," he hums. "I was imagining Naruto's face."
Rather than cringe, she only laughs again. "Try to be a little gentler. Instead of killing it, pretend you're — hum — well, pretend you're . . . ."
Her voice whispers away, and Sasuke turns and finds she's blushing. He thinks he has a pretty good idea where her mind was going, so he pushes — just a tad.
"Oh? Like what, Hinata?" He smirks down at her, pleased with how the blush spreads out, touching forehead and ears and tips of fingers. "You can tell me."
"Stop, Sasuke." She wacks his shoulder playfully.
"I can't learn if you don't teach me."
"I don't have to." She nods at what he's been mixing. "It's done. Now we add in the eggs."
And so she goes on about how to properly crack an egg, demonstrating with two hands, then one hand, so that he knows how to do it himself. Again, Sasuke watches, playing the role of a naive student perfectly.
...
"Any guesses?"
They've added lime juice and vanilla, and then Hinata brings out what looks an awful lot like a cake pan, which she pours some sort of strange, crumbling concoction into before they pour his mixed bowl of sugar and lime into it.
"A cake?" he wonders gravely.
"Close." She smiles at him as she puts the pan into another pan, then puts both those pans into the oven. Then, for whatever reason, she pours boiling water into the second, larger pan before closing the oven up and setting a timer for one hour. "Don't look so scared. You'll like it."
He's sure he'd like anything she made, even if it was the epitome of sweet.
"What next?" he asks.
Hinata drops the used bowls in her sink to make room for another one. "Icing."
"So it is a cake."
"A specific kind. Come here and watch how I make this."
And so he looms by her shoulder and watches her whisk cream and sugar together. Sometimes, he's distracted by the flexing muscles in her arms and the line of her neck, but that's not anything Hinata needs to know about.
...
Her exhaustion becomes more and more clear by the passing minute.
When the timer chimes, she rubs the sleep out of her eyes before pulling on her mitts to pull the pans out.
It certainly looks like a cake, and they play a guessing game as they wait for it to cool enough to apply the frosting and fruit.
"I hardly know types of cakes," he admits.
Hinata stifles a yawn next to him. "Take a shot in the dark."
"Bundt cake."
"Nope. Wrong kind of pan. Good try, though."
"Shortcake." He remembers Sakura liking that kind. Kakashi would buy it for her every birthday.
"No," Hinata says.
He scrapes through every iota of cake facts he has (which, as you can imagine, is zilch to none). "Angel food?"
She laughs. "Sasuke, think about the ingredients we used."
Well, they certainly used vanilla. He's confident about that, but when he answers thus, she tells him that's just a flavor, and he frowns and thinks again.
"Lime," he notes.
"Yeeess." Hinata stretches out the word, telling him he's on the right track.
Sasuke thinks harder. "We also used cream cheese."
"Good, Sasuke." She can't hold back this yawn.
"Cheese . . . cake?" he guesses. "Lime cheesecake?"
"Key lime, yes."
Thinking about it — it doesn't sound awful. Maybe he'll enjoy this more than he thought he would.
...
Finally, when the cake is cool enough, they spread on the frosting and the fruit, and the cake is officially done. Sasuke almost has the mind to eat it, but Hinata's on the brink of collapsing, eyes barely staying open, so he tells himself to be patient.
"Let's get you to bed," he says, looking down at her on the couch, which she had crawled to as he put the cake in the fridge.
She blinks sleepily and smiles like she's having a good dream. "I can't," she murmurs. "I don't have the strength."
Well, that's an easy thing to fix.
He lifts her up into his arms, resting her head against his left shoulder while his right arm and hand hold her in place. She doesn't wiggle or move. She just lets him carry her to her room, gently laying her on the mattress. Hinata laughs when he drags the blankets over her body so that she's almost completely covered.
"There," he says, "bed."
And she doesn't respond. Hinata just looks at him, and it's open and free, not closed off, not scared, not hiding from him.
His pulse starts up, and he stands there and looks back, taken with her, with how she looks at him like he's an angel born on July 23rd.
His hand lands next to her pillow as he leans over her; not too close — just enough for them both to see each other and nothing else.
"Hinata," he says from his chest, "are you falling for me?"
She doesn't blush and hide.
She smiles. "Maybe."
...
His chest lurches with the desperate yearn to kiss her. His fingers grip her sheets, preventing him from leaving her side, and when he stares at her, into her, he wants to kiss her.
Kami, he wants to kiss her.
And then it would all be clear. No more guessing. No more maybe-flirting-maybe-not.
He'd be kissing her, and she would know it.
But —
But she's barely awake.
So he can't.
He forces his hand to relax and release the sheets. He takes a step back, stands straight, and she drifts asleep with a happy smile on her face.
Today, he won't kiss her.
But maybe tomorrow. Or the day after that.
Or the day after that.
...
He goes home, and he climbs through his window and falls onto his bed, and he cannot relax.
It takes him two hours to fall asleep, and when he does, he dreams of Hinata — like he always does.