"The onigiri and tomatoes taste different."
Those were the words of greeting Sasuke gave her that day of late May. Hinata looked up from her bento, blinking and tilting her head without understanding, just barely containing her surprise at suddenly having him talk to her after literally months from their last conversation.
Not appreciating her dumbstruck look and lack of answer, Sasuke pursed his lips, before enunciating, this time slower. "Everything else is the same, except for those two things. Why is that?"
"Oh! W-Well…" Hinata finally came out of her stupor and let out a squeaky voice, pressing her pointer fingers together as she glanced down. She knew exactly what Sasuke was referring to. Because of her constant training, she no longer had time to prepare her meals herself. Her hands that were constantly bandaged were unfit to cook, lest they got dirty or became wet or her injuries opened in the middle of her cooking and blood contaminated the food. It also hurt a lot to use them, and because Hinata wanted her hands to rest as much as they could, she eliminated a few of the things that required their constant use and were not indispensable from her routine.
Like this, cooking had to go, and for almost a month now, the cooks of the compound were the ones responsible for the food. This, of course, meant she had not been preparing Sasuke's usual onigiri and fried tomatoes. She was not surprised he had noticed the change in taste, she was surprised he came to ask her about it instead of enjoying food that was of greater quality than hers.
But since he asked, she supposed she should tell him. "I-I-I used to be the one to p-prepare the onigiri and t-tomatoes, b-but I am not cooking a-anymore. I-I'm leaving all the w-work to the cooks…"
"Why?" he asked, his frown deepening. She blushed, this time twirling her thumbs, unsure of telling him about her nightly training. She did not have to, though, as suddenly he seemed to pay attention to her hands, and upon seeing every inch of them bandaged up like a mummy, a look of surprise took over his features.
"What happened to your hands?"
Hinata tried, futilely, to hide them, but it was obviously too late. Seeing his imperious glare, she had no option but to answer honestly. "I am t-training every day… and my hands get i-injured…"
"What kind of training gets your hands so damaged you have to bandage them like that?" he asked, incredulous.
Hinata shrugged. "I-It's the Hyuuga t-training… that focuses a lot o-on the h-hands… the gentle fist… s-surely Sasuke-kun has h-heard of it…?"
"I had, but…" he was still frowning, his gaze going from her hands to her face, indecisive of where to stop. Hinata had no idea what was going on through his mind. He looked conflicted, but Hinata couldn't understand why. "Is your father who is pushing you so far?" he finally asked, his voice, for some reason, softer than before.
Hinata blinked, bewildered. This had to be the most she has heard him talk to anyone in a long time. She just couldn't understand why he seemed so interested all of a sudden. Finally, she shook her head, answering his question. "I a-am doing it on my o-own… I want to become stronger… a-and for t-that reason I train every night…"
"…Every night?"
Her word choice did not go unnoticed. Hinata bit her tongue, but nodded anyway, not seeing any point in lying. Sasuke just kept looking at her, as if he was looking at a strange thing he could not comprehend, and his gaze, so focused and intent on her, was making her really nervous. She fidgeted, practically squirmed under it, until, finally, the boy glanced away, though the tenseness of his body was still visible.
"Is your father… asking too much of you?"
The question was small, and she almost didn't catch it. Hinata tilted her head, before shaking her head again.
"He isn't m-making me train at n-night… that's my decision."
He nodded, stiffly, and without another word, turned around and walked away, leaving Hinata alone and wondering what all of that was about.