One year and three months after Hinata's return to Konoha...
The sharp edge of the blade sliced through the delicate skin of her palm, causing bright red blood to stain the blade. Despite the overpowering scent of fuji in the air, Hinata showed no signs of flinching from the pain, even as the wielder of the blade exerted more force. Her blood dripped onto her once pristine lavender kimono, each drop became a vivid red blotch, reminiscent of blooming Manjushages.
"Move aside," the tall figure said with a sense of frustration, his teeth clenched tightly together. The blade was intended for the motionless figure behind her. As their eyes met, Hinata couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity, for those light blue eyes were the ones she had come to know so well over the years.
She knew him like the back of her hand; he had no intention of killing her and she was willing to bet her life on it.
With a deliberate motion, Hinata fixed her gaze on the figure in front of her and moved the tip of the blade towards her chest, "if you want to kill him", she whispered, "kill me first."
Her sudden move caused his eyes to widen in fear, his expression betraying his apprehension, revealing that he had no intention of hurting her. He only hoped to bring her back to where she belonged. Stepping forward, Hinata pressed the tip deeper into her chest.
With each passing moment, the blade remained coated in blood, as it continued to drip without pause. As the tip of the blade pressed into her chest, a small patch of red started to seep through her clothes.
The moment he attempted to withdraw the blade, he realized it was futile as she had already seized control. He did not know if she was doing this on purpose or if she was toying with him to show him what it would look like to kill her. She did take pleasure in seeing the cruelty she inflicted upon others.
"Why?" he asked in a quiet voice, baffled by the way she would sacrifice for another.
"Why am I doing this?" asked Hinata, then she paused, "or why him?"
There was a noticeable tightening of the man's lips. He had been wondering about both things she asked. He wanted to know who was the person who could walk into her eyes and even more so, her heart. For whom was it that the mighty, unwavering Marebito would want to sacrifice her life for?
How could it be in a little over one year spent in Konoha that the Marebito would become so human? He was aware of the answer to that question, but he refused to believe it until he heard it directly from her.
"Do you love him?"
Hinata laughed harshly at this question, "when you did you think so highly of love?"
It was inconceivable that the Toneri she knew would ever pose such a ridiculous question, as he was fully aware of what it entailed to truly embody a god. All emotions and attachments to the world had to be discarded.
As the blade dug deeper into her chest, she could feel the warmth of her own blood spreading, a sweet, metallic taste filling her mouth. With a sudden release of the blade, Toneri let go of the blade, swiftly removing it from her chest. The blade fell onto the floor with a soft thud.
She had won.
A stream of blood gushed forth from the wound. As she tasted more blood, she held back the urge to cough, she wouldn't allow herself to show weakness in front of him. The tip of the blade hovered dangerously close to her heart, a split second away from piercing it. If he hadn't released his grip just in time, she would have taken her final breath.
His face contorted in a mixture of desperation and pain as he took in her blood-soaked clothing and the deep cut in her right hand. Knowing she wouldn't leave with him, all he could do was warn her about the impending doom that awaited her and the person behind her.
"It's already too late...soon everyone will be after him because killing him would mean possessing the Marebito."
Hinata only smiled softly at his words but only said, "go. I will take care of this." Her tone was devoid of all emotion. Despite the blood, she looked statuesque.
Hinata watched him as he turned away and disappeared from her sight. Only after that did she finally direct her attention to the person lying on the ground. He was right. In light of everything she had meticulously planned and executed, she never anticipated feeling the way she currently did.
As part of her scheme, she willingly exchanged vows with him. Initially, her intention was only to use him, but unexpectedly, those vows became deeply engraved in her heart. She crouched down next to him, her hand emanating a soft green glow as she channeled her chakra.
She didn't want him to die. She would not let him die. At least not because of her. For the first time in her life, she wondered if this was how love felt. The desperation of saving someone? Is this what people give their lives for?
Toneri's question rang in her ears. Do you love him?
The question was an accusation of her betrayal towards the person she had become.
It wasn't supposed to be like this; she thought desperately. At that moment, the wetness on her face made her painfully aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't recall the last time she had cried, and she was crying for him. Because of him.
She felt a deep ache in her chest, and she was certain it wasn't related to the wound from the blade. She had gotten lucky, it had been Toneri. Someone she knew exactly how to manipulate his feelings towards her, but next time, she knew it would be different.
Slowly, he was regaining consciousness. She could tell from the way his brows furrowed. Most of his internal injuries were healed, so his life was no longer at risk. The pressure from using chakra caused her body to feel a physical strain against her existing wounds.
She forced herself to stand up, feeling the sharp pain radiating from her chest wound. She was conscious of the fact that she was losing an excessive amount of blood. With each passing moment, her mind became more and more dizzy.
She didn't want to die here. Not in front of him. Even in the end, she wanted to keep her precious facade in front of him. It was better for him to think that she had left with their attacker, that she had purposely left him.
With every ounce of strength, she had left, she mustered the willpower to drag herself into the woods, the sound of her laboured breathing filling the air. As she leaned against one tree trunk for support, the sound of rushing water filled her ears. Her feet eventually brought her to a cliff's edge.
As she prepared to plunge into freefall, she cast a final glance back at the place she had come from. Although a selfish part of her longed to see him one last time, she knew deep down that it would only intensify the pain of their separation.
As her feet cleared the edge, she closed her eyes and felt a rush of memories from over a year ago flood her mind.