SECOND ARC BEGINS: CHOICE
Chapter 11: Promised Beginnings
"You are not making this easy for me, are you?"
Hinata heard Sasuke's frustration and slid out of the kitchen. Her hands twisted behind her as they untied the apron she donned. Her feet padded on the wooden floor softly as she navigated towards the living room. Standing at the arched doorway, her eyes scanned the room, and the mess unfolded before her.
Sasuke was on the floor, surrounded by a thick book with its spine creased and battered, Haru was lying on the floor where a changing mat was spread across. He attempted to wriggle Haru out of his shorts, while Haru kicked his feet in the air, letting out delighted squeals. "Sai's books are useless! Utterly useless! I should have asked Kurenai—" Sasuke continued to talk to himself while holding the clean diaper, his eyes narrowed on the diaper as if it was an enemy's scroll, "This shouldn't be this hard!" Unaware of her keen eyes on himself, Sasuke continued to groan.
Hinata's fingers clutched the apron tightly as she swallowed, something heavy settling in her chest. At the same time, her eyes were fixated on the messy state of Sasuke, who was scrunching his nose while stripping off the soiled diaper and discarding it on the paper bag at the side. Sasuke grunted and looked back at the side table, he leaned forward to grab the box of wet wipes but Haru grabbed the opportunity to burst into giggles and roll onto the side. Sasuke moved like a lightning bolt and caught Haru from crawling away in time, rolling him back on the changing mat. "Stay still!" Sasuke's tone was curt, his instructive voice paused Haru's giggles.
Haru pouted, then babbled, "Dada!" His fist pumped the air. Hinata squeezed her eyes shut, It had been a week since Haru learned his first word—as much as it was a moment of achievement, it stung Hinata whenever Haru leapt towards Sasuke as if he was his Dada, which he wasn't.
The look of exasperation on Sasuke turned into a rare smile, and Hinata's breathing became harder, heavier at the sight. The defeat gleamed in Sasuke's sole onyx eye, something that Hinata had been noticing for a while. Haru's continuous babbles were the way to break the stoic mask The Last Uchiha always wore with pride. Haru was a talkative baby, Hinata's smile returned and her lilac eyes softened at the memory of Haru's squeals and blabbering. As much as Hinata knew Sasuke from Naruto's narration, she was aware that he was a person appreciative of his space and solitude.
But Haru was beyond the barriers because Hinata had witnessed Sasuke breaching his principles to cater to Haru—space, solitude and silence—Sasuke let it all take the backseat for her son.
Her son; the baby who cherished Sasuke's existence, enough to call him Dada with every breath that he took.
Hinata's breathing faltered, and she sucked in a harsh breath, her hissing caught Sasuke's attention; he looked up, while his hands were meticulously sliding the new diaper under Haru who squirmed while holding his rattler, echoing the still and quiet room with the noise of his bubbling laughter and a soft jingling sound from the rattler.
His voice carried the faintest trace of amusement, "This was hard." His eyes dipped for a final tug at the fastening straps of the diaper, Haru cooed as he rolled onto the mat and began crawling towards the scattered toys. Sasuke didn't look up at her again, his movements were fluid as he gathered the mat, the used wipes and diapers and got off the floor, giving a scan to the room.
Hinata breathed in, then announced, "Breakfast is ready." Sasuke kept his gaze averted, even when Hinata entered the living room, crouching down near Haru to scoop him up in her arms. Without any words, she turned on her heels and dashed towards the dining table. But amidst the chirping of birds, the chatter of neighbouring children playing with balls in her garden and Haru's squeaks, she heard his muted response.
"I will be there in a minute," his voice was low, but somehow, she could hear him. Undoing Sasuke from her life was getting more complicated than ever. Somewhere between loathing him and tolerating him, between disregarding him and knowing him—Hinata forgot to stop tolerating him, forgot to stop disregarding him.
Haru's acknowledgement and acceptance of Sasuke had weaved him with the threads of her life causing the mess to get tangled, day by day.
.
.
.
Each day ticked by, silently yet quickly. The milestones Haru was reaching were filling Hinata's heart with pleasure and unexplored ache. He was growing; his hold much firmer, his appetite increasing, his movements around the house on his hands and knees were more refined, his senses were sharpened and refined with each passing minute and his babbles were getting more coherent than before—Haru had turned Eleven-month old, nine months without Naruto, Haru was a life personified; blooming and bright, yet the ache of an absence, an absence of his actual father, shadowed.
Haru couldn't fathom, for he knew someone else in that role. And he relished, he dotted on his dada. Hinata could see the gleam in Haru's bright eyes, the yearning and the adoration, for a man who was his Dada in his mind. Hinata was aware that her son had made his choice, while Hinata continued to struggle and suffer, the grief she carried in the deepest corners of her heart, ached always.
Her lifelong desires were like a reflection on the surface of water, she could only see but never touch.
Before Hinata could further drown in her consuming thoughts, a few murmurs caught her attention. She closed the book laid out on her lap as she gazed outside the window, staring at Sasuke on the grass, cradling Haru on his lap. Haru's active tendencies propelled him to attempt to climb over Sasuke's torso, but he was pulling him down, pointing a finger at Haru's face which led Haru to hiss at Sasuke and tug at Sasuke's bangs, eliciting a groan from him.
Hinata stifled a laugh, her chest felt light, and her mind was at ease all of a sudden. The soft golden glow of the afternoon cast warm streaks on her son, making his lightly tanned skin appear golden, and his big curious eyes squinted at the vibrant sunshine. Sasuke caressed her son's face and shifted a few spots behind, under the shade, his thumb rubbing Haru's forehead, making a smile appear on the beautiful face of her son.
She rose from her chair, placed the book on the table perched under the window and pulled the curtains. She dashed towards the door, her heart was swelling with the multitude of emotions, she felt the sudden need to hold her son in her arms, to kiss his face, to hug him. Her steps echoing on the floor, she pulled the front door open and the gust of wind flowed inside, the warmth tickled her skin and she heaved a deep sigh as she stepped out.
Her porch was warmed, smell of blooming flowers hung in the air. She didn't step down the porch, she oversaw the garden from the front, her eyes eagerly following the specks of unreserved trust in the eyes of her son.
Sasuke's voice was curt but carried a soft undertone, "Say it, Haru. Try again." He splayed his legs forward, putting Haru on his thighs, her son's chubby hands gripped Sasuke's torso and forearm for balance. "Ma…Ma." Sasuke overenunciated each syllable, his voice turned slow and tender. His eyes were curious and narrowed at her son.
Hinata's knees bucked, she almost swayed forward but held the wooden frame guarding her porch, her hands clutching the wood tightly. Her mind felt the rush of dizziness, her heart palpitated, thundering in her chest. Her feet were rooted on the ground as if an entity from underground had clasped iron chains on her ankles. What Sasuke was doing was crashing her resolve, she stilled, and her breath was caught in her throat. That was not how she envisioned her son to address her, Sasuke wasn't the person who was supposed to teach her son. Why? Her eyes stung with unshed tears, her chest burned with an unshared burden and her soul yearned to crawl out of her skin and fizzle out in the air. The bundles of unhealed agony pressed like weights within her, the patience and the acceptance of the new changes she had mustered, began to crumble.
Her blood didn't run cold or searing hot, but somehow her mind was rattled, and her control was shattered.
Haru blinked at him, tilting his head slightly, his baby cheeks squishing adorably as he attempted. "Ba…ba!" he chirped instead, clapping his tiny hands in triumph.
Sasuke sighed dramatically, his shoulders sagging for effect, though the rare sparkle in his eyes betrayed his amusement. "Not 'baba,' Haru. Mama. Try again."
The toddler giggled, his laughter ringing out like tiny bells, and mimicked Sasuke's exaggerated lip movements. "Ma…ba!" he declared again, his face lighting up with uncontainable joy.
Hinata covered her mouth, her breath hitching and her sob muffled. Haru was nestled in the lap of a man who carried shadows and blood, and the death of Naruto on his shoulders, but Haru looked like he was living…as if his entire world was right there, her son's attention and unrivalled affection for Sasuke reached the pinnacle already, because Haru saw Sasuke as the beacon of trust. As evident by the way he leaned in, pressing his face to his torso, giggling.
Hinata's face turned paler than she already was. Even under the blaring sunbeams, Hinata felt neither cold nor warm, she felt empty, unguarded and barely alive. Hinata clung to the threads of life with her heart wailing in anguish.
Sasuke pulled back Haru, cupping his face and angling his face up to him, "Come on, you can do it for your mama right?" he asked as if Haru could comprehend anyone or anything besides the God of his life carrying him in his warmth. "Try again, Ma..Ma."
Hinata released a sharp breath, clenching her fists and speeding down the stairs, her movements were abrupt, and her words were unrestrained. "Do not force him," she stood behind Sasuke, her arms crossed on her chest as if she could crumble and fall if she hadn't held herself. There was a biting edge in her voice, a bitterness lacing her words even if she had spoken them in a low whisper.
Sasuke looked over his shoulder, his forehead tensed with faint lines, Hinata could feel his Chakra flare for a moment before he shut his eyes and calmed himself. "I am not forcing. I am teaching." Hinata continued to keep her pale-eyed glare on him, while he turned around and patted her son's head, threading his fingers in the golden locks. His finger pointed towards her while he continued to talk with her son, "She is your Mama!" Haru's eyes darted towards her, Hinata's anger deflated, and the bitterness seeped out of her pores as her son pouted at her.
Her eyes softened at the way her son's pout dissolved into a smile. Sasuke swivelled on the spot, turning towards her. Her small frame seemed to tower Sasuke as he was on the grass, gazing up at her, his eyebrows knitted together with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Mocking her? No. Pissed at her. Sure. Hinata learned to read the flicker of his mood in the five months they spent together, under the same roof, fighting with each other or disregarding each other.
Hinata's mouth parted, her brows drawn together, the words burned the tip of her tongue but she had to say it out loud. She saw the tick in Sasuke's jaw, the fisting of his free hand, the veins protruding on his neck and the darkness shadowing his face. But Hinata mustered the strength from the depths of her almost empty reserves, and stepped closer, heaving a sigh.
But before she could say her grievances out loud, her son's lips puckered, his tiny hands clapping while he bounced on Sasuke's lap, "Mmm…Ma…Ma," he exclaimed, his sound was imperfect but enough for Hinata to melt.
The annoyance draped across Sasuke's features vanished, morphing into a shade of pride as his eyes darted between Haru and Hinata. Hinata stood with a slack jaw; everything that had been muddling her mind became a white noise in her head, and the only sound that echoed was her son's.
Mama.
Her heart was almost leaping out of her chest, she whispered, "Haru…" her voice trailed off, and her words dissolved into restrained sobs, she sank onto the grass, her knees digging into the damp greenery as she came face to face with her beaming son.
Haru's face lit up like a sun, the uncanny resemblance with Naruto was pulsating on the softness of her son's features. "Mama!" he cheered, extending her arms towards Hinata. The fragile moment was turning into a moment of her life, the way his sweet voice breathed a new life into Hinata, she felt as if every painful instance of her life was nothing, she felt as if she truly began living from the moment Haru called for her.
The harmony continued to coil around Hinata, and the rhythm of the new-found beauty of her life lingered around her—Hinata shared a look with Sasuke, who had a twitching smile on his face, she lowered her head, focusing on the expectant baby and engulfed her son in her embrace.
"How long have you…been teaching him?" she asked, keeping Haru stuck to her chest.
Sasuke leaned back, craning his neck left and right with a groan, his hands pressed on the grass on either side. "Since he said his first word," he lightly shrugged.
His first word…Dada.
The information that Sasuke had been teaching her son for one month, while she was lamenting that his first word was for Sasuke—filled her with shame and unrestrained guilt. Hinata lowered her head, her lips trembled and her breathing quickened. Her hands wrapped around her tiny baby tightened as if Haru was an anchor that held her back from falling.
The waves of regret crashed against the shore of her sanity. Her mind was befuddled with the tethering choices of either letting fate take the course as it was destined or letting her emotions drive her sanity to madness—she knew what she had to choose, but choosing a new beginning pushed her into the abyss of uncertainties.
Hinata detested uncertainties.
She loathed change.
She was never decisive enough.
But Sasuke was always decisive as per Naruto; Sasuke knew what he wanted, he always walked the path which he selected despite the world against it and he always fulfilled his promises.
"I told you, Hinata. I just want to be Sasuke for him. He can call me anything but I know where I stand…with him and with you." He leaned forward and for an infinitesimal moment, she felt the tingle of warmth from the brush of his fingers as he tugged the loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
She muttered, "Is that why—"
"Yes, I thought you'd be happy to know that he knows you." He got off the ground, dusting away the specks of sand and leaves off his trousers. "He knows his Mama now!" Hinata angled up her face, biting on her lip, Haru repeating 'Mama' in her ear, calming her nerves. She witnessed a ghost of a smile on his sun-shaded face.
.
.
.
Hinata stood on tiptoes, sliding the empty plates and boxes into the cabinet above the counter. The soft glow of moonlight spilt through the kitchen window, painting silver streaks across the walls and faintly illuminating her weary form. At 3 AM, the world was draped in a heavy silence, but the stillness in her home was often broken by Haru's restless cries. Tonight was no exception.
Her son had woken with a piercing wail, demanding attention. His ever-changing routine seemed determined to defy the natural order of sleep, and Hinata could only adapt. With a mother's practised efficiency, she had prepared a small meal of mashed bananas and toast, which Haru had devoured while perched on her lap.
He loved the night, enthralled by the silver glow that bathed the world in mystery. It was a fascination that kept him wide awake, much to Hinata's exhaustion. But even as fatigue pulled at her, a small chuckle escaped her lips. She hung the apron on its hook, smoothing it absently, and left the kitchen behind.
The house was still, save for the faint hum of crickets outside and the occasional rustle of a stray cat in the garden. The quiet was almost comforting—until it wasn't.
A sound shattered the fragile peace. Low, guttural grunts mingled with muffled shrieks, sending a shiver racing down her spine. Her heart lurched as she froze mid-step, ears straining to identify the source of the noise. It wasn't Haru—her gaze darted toward the crib in the living room where he lay, his small chest rising and falling in the deep rhythm of sleep. His tiny fingers twitched, caught in a dream's embrace, while his soft snores filled the room.
Hinata exhaled, a fleeting moment of relief washing over her. But the noises returned, louder now, more jagged and unsettling. She straightened, her pulse quickening as the sound drew her attention to a place she had deliberately avoided for months: Sasuke's room.
Each step brought the noises into sharper focus—harsh, laboured breaths, strained grunts, and a guttural edge of frustration that carried unmistakable anguish.
She rapped on the door, two times. Nobody responded.
Her brows knitted in worry as the sounds resumed, unrelenting and louder now. The oppressive weight of her conscience left her no choice.
She pressed her palm against the door and pushed it open, a creak breaking the stillness. She owed him basic human decency, which she was relearning, which she had never offered to Sasuke before. The room was draped in darkness, the faint light of the moon slipped through the gaps in the blinds and pierced through the darkened haze.
Her fingers toyed nervously with her sleeves, a habit she hadn't shaken since childhood, and she willed her legs to move further into the room. The soft thud of the door closing behind her broke the spell of silence.
Sasuke lay on his futon, tangled in sheets and drenched with sweat. His hands clutched the bedding as if he was battling an invisible foe. His head jerked to the side, and a string of hisses escaped his quivering mouth, "Itachi!" he whimpered, his body thrashing and his eyes squeezing shut with a trail of blood slipping down his cheek from one of his eyes.
His legs attempted to kick the blankets off himself with harsh tugging and his guttural voice kept on shrieking, "Itachi! No! Don't!"
Hinata felt the shivers run up her skin, she felt frozen on the spot.
Sasuke's body trembled with a terror caging him, Hinata could feel the pain slithering up her spine with the way he let out a muted scream, biting his own tongue. His body continued to violently jolt before her, and Hinata continued to look at his writhing frame with wide eyes. Her mind blacked out, her voice continued to strain within her and she couldn't manage to speak up.
Sasuke curled into a fetal position with a tremble, his forehead pressed on his knees, and one of his hands clutched his hair, attempting to pull out his own hair. "Mother!" He almost sobbed. He ended up biting his own fist, to battle the scream tearing him apart from within. Hinata's Byakugan pulsated around her eyes with veins mapping her face, her vision gave her the view of his Chakra erupting and rushing in an unbalanced pattern.
She stepped closer, one more step. Just one. She felt the weight of emptiness of the room press down on her, heavy and merciless.
Hinata shivered as she knelt on the floor, beside Sasuke's futon.
The terror, the pain and the helplessness shone naked on his pallid skin, whimpers escaping his dried lips and shock jolting his muscles, seeping into his veins. Hinata could see the all-consuming frantic war he was having in his hazed mind. He continued to gasp for air, "Mother! Ni-san!" he shouted.
His hand clutched his hair tighter than before, and he groaned under his breath. Hinata reached out to pull his grip off his hair, but with an abrupt jerk, his hand clasped around her wrist and pulled her instead.
Hinata found herself lying on the futon, Sasuke towering on top of her, eyes shut and bleeding, blood-curdling beneath his skin and his body burning with the heat of anguish consuming his every inch. Before Hinata could speak up or swat his hand off her wrist, he closed in on her, his hand grabbing her throat and squeezing. Hinata's legs kicked and shooting pain sizzled within her, a chill like a serpent slithered down her spine, wormed its way beneath and sent prickling across her skin. Hinata gasped, her feeble hands pushing on Sasuke's chest, but the hardened muscles didn't budge.
"Ni-san…" he grunted.
"S-Sasuke…" she muttered, the pain of his strong grasp on her neck pounded, and her Byakugan retreated under the onslaught of the force he possessed against her. Her anxiety bubbled within her, slamming into her consciousness, the searing sensations reverberated into her joints as she let out ragged gasps, "S-Sasuke.."
His eyes fluttered open, half-lidded, still dazed by the vision clawing at his insides, festering within him to chip away at his sanity. Hinata's pale eyes met the vivid crimson eye and the Hinata choked on her saliva as the intricate pattern of a flower and a shuriken in his eye pulled her into a haze of a haunting night, marred by blood.
Hinata's breath hitched as the air around her shifted. The oppressive weight of Sasuke's grasp dissolved, replaced by an icy stillness that crawled into her bones. Her pale eyes darted around, the world a distorted haze, until it settled into sharp focus.
She stood in the middle of an unfamiliar street, the smell of iron hung in the air, mingling with the faint tang of smoke. The distant cries and shrieks echoed, otherwise the silence was deafening. Hinata stood still, under the gusts of cold wind whipping at her, the muffled breathy sound escaped her mouth. Her face was ashen, her heart began to clench and her soul began to shudder as she realized where she was.
She was in Sasuke's nightmare or memory. A memory that ripped him from inside.
Hinata's eyes darted wildly around the quiet street with shattered windows, blood-stained cobblestone pathways and walls and as her feet drew her nearer to the place she didn't know, she came to witness the horror that made her scream, the screeching noise echoed, waking up no one and nothing.
Before her were the mangled bodies, broken and shattered, sliced up and blood-drained—her sanity was stripped off her, her mind was a jumble of incoherent thoughts at the sight of the terror that happened to the Uchiha Clan a decade ago. Hinata looked around, the stench of blood was suffocating her, she needed to find Sasuke, she needed to leave that place, that hell.
She felt the cold, the dark and the blood grabbing her, tainting her; her tears began to stream down her face, and the splatter of blood was on her forearms which made Hinata stumble and she fell back, on the ground. Her hand landed on something soft and cold, she snapped her head to the side to find a body, fallen and perished. Pale, dark hair, empty red eyes—some nameless Uchiha, with his life sucked out of him.
Hinata crawled backwards, horror and disdain throbbing in her chest. "Sasuke!" she yelled, her cries began with a loud mourn. Hinata was being burned, her skin felt as if it was being branded and then turning into a pile of ash. Her mind churned, she felt the piercing pain crawling up from the neck to the back of her head, oppressive and daunting.
She was drowned in the bleeding darkness that had shrouded the hell, but then a figure came into her view. A small boy, barely seven, stopping before her, his dark eyes rimmed red by the stinging tears looked over the street, wildly darting on anyone and anything, except her. Hinata recognized the eyes…Sasuke.
The little boy, the child that her Sasuke used to be, began to shout, "Ni-san!" He passed by each shop, wincing at the sight of the dead, sobbing and holding his Kunai with a tight but trembling grasp. Fear and devastation consumed his feeble frame as he crouched next to the body of a child of his age, and with quivering hands, he rolled the body to see the face, his face contorted into saddened fury and desperation, his shoulders shook as he mumbled, "Yuta!" Hinata wiped the tears off her face with her blood-stained hands and with wobbly feet, she pulled herself up.
As Hinata drew closer to Sasuke who was limp beside her friend's dead body, she heard his muffled plea, "Yuta! Ni-san will save you…wake up!" His shoulders shook and his Kunai fell out of his shaking grasp with a clinking noise. Hinata leaned down to press her hand on his shoulder but Sasuke scrambled to his feet, his eyes yet again missing to see her as if her existence wasn't in his vision. His beady eyes, tear-struck and weary, snapped to the ground and leaned down to grab the Kunai, which he then pressed to his chest while turning around to dash towards the end of the street, where a giant house stood, silenced and weeping.
Hinata followed Sasuke, running behind her while he was continuously yelling, "Ni-san! Ni-san, where are you!" The cry of desperation pierced through her, jolting her. The Sasuke running ahead of her stumbled on a few rocks and fell on his face, Hinata dashed towards him but he already picked himself up, rubbing his knee as he ran towards the house. "Mother! Father!"
Hinata's mind was frenzied. That was the Uchiha's Main House. Sasuke entered the door, pushing it with all his might. Hinata followed behind. Sasuke looked around, screaming his lungs out, "Mother, where are you?" The silence graced him with its lack of response, however, Hinata could feel the air getting heavier with the thick smell of blood.
Her heart began to drop, her tears were staining her face and her strength continued to diminish. Sasuke was rushing towards the door before her, her heart raced and pushed her to trail after him, to stop him, because she knew, she heard about it, that Sasuke had found his parents, in the pool of their blood.
"Sasuke…" she cried out, hoping for him to listen, to respond, to come back to him, but he didn't. He moved forward, to his own demise, to his own grave.
Sasuke slammed the door open, and he entered with Hinata, she felt the world collapsing on her. Because the sight of seeing someone's parents, pierced and bloodied, pale and empty—it thundered within her, her blood ran with heat in her veins, her pulse weakened and her body began to ache. She was behind Sasuke, she couldn't see the look in his eyes, but she knew what had occurred…she knew that Sasuke had died that moment, he had fallen into a spiral from which he couldn't ever come back.
"Kai! Kai!" Hinata mumbled, her weak Chakra still possessed enough for her to manipulate it and break herself out of whatever it was. The more Hinata stayed in the vision, the more it chipped at her resolve and humanity. The endless pool of blood on the street, the uncountable bodies lining up in front of the doors or shops and the echoes of whimpers from Sasuke—It was bound to make anyone a hollow shell, a barren human being, a wasteland.
That day could take anyone's light away.
As it snatched away whatever Sasuke had, and snuffed out Sasuke's entire existence.
Hinata felt the world around her shatter like glass and vanish in the air like wisps of smoke, darkness blanketed her, clutched at her throat and she was plunged into a void. When she opened her eyes, she was back in Sasuke's room, gasping for air.
Sasuke was still above her, but his eyes were wide with horror, the Mangekyō Sharingan fading as realization dawned. His hand fell away from her throat, trembling violently, and he stumbled backwards, his face pale and stricken.
He gripped his head, as though trying to banish the nightmare that had spilled over into reality. "H-Hinata…" he coaxed out.
Hinata coughed, clutching her throat as she struggled to steady her breathing. She pulled herself off the floor, but instead of flinching away from him, she leaned forward, one of her hands on her throat while the other was on his arm, pushing him back on the futon. "Sleep," she whispered to him, her voice was hoarse, broken and low.
"Hinata…I…" he swatted her hand off him, the look of terror still painted on his face. She knew Sasuke wasn't awake, he was clinging to his memory as well as reality, his half-lidded, dazed eyes with blood pooling at the waterline, spoke about his consciousness. Hinata could see the seven-year-old Sasuke in him. The tremble of his strong muscled body reminded her of the shaking shoulders of the little Sasuke who bawled while crouching next to his friend's body. The red-rimmed eyes of little Sasuke were due to the burning tears blurring his vision, while her Sasuke was weeping crimson.
Sasuke looked like he was still tangled in the hold of the memories that were eating him from the inside, memories that refused to let him go.
"Sleep!" she got off the floor and without glancing back at him, she bolted out of the room, gasping for air and some reprieve from the hell she had lived. She dashed towards the living room, her son was sleeping blissfully, unaware of the torture of fate his Dada relived and his Mama witnessed for the first time.
The Uchiha Massacre. For the Hyugas, the Konoha Shinobi and civilians, it was a tale of Horror, many disregarded it and barely anyone condemned it, but Hinata was sure that if anyone were ever as unfortunate as Hinata to delve into the memories of The Last Uchiha—they'd want to carve out penance through a Kunai on their bodies, out of remorse.
Hinata understood why Sasuke was open to the prospect of carrying the loved ones even as grief because, after witnessing the losses he bore, Hinata was left wondering that if The Last Uchiha hadn't held them as grief, then who else could have? She asked if his grief had no release and went deep in his bones, she asked if his grief caused his madness—the universe held its breath for a second before spilling the truth.
Yes. The grief consumed him. A seven-year-old child couldn't fathom how to carry the memory of hundreds of his name, his blood, his friends, and his loved ones…who were brutally slaughtered, for the sake of the village that never paid the price of its sins.
Hinata shuddered. Knowing Sasuke and…knowing his grief, were two contrasting phenomena. Naruto excelled in both, she sobbed at the thought…but she…she…was too weak, too fragile, too broken.
Hinata leaned back on the sofa, her head pounding and her eyes still stuck to the grey ceiling above—her thoughts rotting her mind and her heartbeats thrumming in her ears. She was unsure when the slumber took hold of her consciousness, but she remembered her damp cheeks, stinging eyes, and ragged gasps as she dipped into the empty shadows.
.
.
Hinata moved through the kitchen with quiet efficiency, her delicate frame carrying out the tasks as if tethered to an invisible rhythm. She cracked eggs into the pan with practised care, the faint hiss of yolk meeting heat rising to fill the still air. Bread crisped in the toaster. The tang of freshly squeezed oranges clung to her fingers as she rinsed the juicer under a stream of cold water. Every motion seemed rehearsed, precise, yet distant—as though her body moved while her mind wandered far from the warmth of the morning sun filtering through the windows.
The previous night haunted her. Each task she performed felt like a fragile tether keeping her grounded, but the images that had seared themselves into her mind played on a loop, dragging her back into the depths of the vision she had unwillingly endured. Blood-smeared corridors, the terror in Sasuke's childhood eyes, the cold steel of his brother's blade—all of it coiled in her thoughts, tightening with each passing moment.
Without thinking, her hand reached for the steel bowl resting on the stove. The searing heat bit into her fingers, jolting her back to the present. She yelped, pulling her hand back instinctively, her chest heaving with a sharp intake of breath. Pain flared across her fingertips, the skin reddening and pulsing with a stinging ache. Her vision blurred momentarily, and when she glanced down at her palm, a jarring sight awaited her.
The sheen of blood—dark, thick, and visceral—streaked her hand. Panic twisted her stomach into knots, and her pulse thundered in her ears. She stumbled back, her lower spine meeting the edge of the counter with a dull thud. Her hands grasped the counter's edge, the cool surface anchoring her as her breathing grew uneven and erratic. Beads of sweat collected at her temple, sliding down her face as heat pooled in her cheeks, the flush of distress overtaking her.
She blinked rapidly, her mind a tempest of confusion. The blood was gone—her palm was unmarred except for the telltale redness of the burn. Yet, the ghost of what she had seen lingered, a phantom pain that burrowed deeper into her consciousness. Hinata let out a shaky exhale, her lips trembling as she whispered to herself, It's over.
Her chest rose and fell with laboured breaths, and her grip on the counter tightened, the pressure grounding her against the chaos unravelling within. The sharp edges of the counter pressed into her back, a dull ache that distracted her, momentarily dulling the vivid flashes still flickering behind her eyelids.
Hinata raised her injured hand, cradling it close to her chest, her fingers trembling as the burn tingled with every movement. She bit her lip to stifle a whimper, the pain both physical and emotional threatening to overwhelm her. For a moment, she closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the cool surface of a nearby cabinet. Her breathing steadied, though her heart still raced.
"Hinata?" She forced herself to straighten, the sound of his voice jolting her back into the routine she clung to so desperately.
Her eyes flickered open to find Sasuke standing in front of her, worry marring his face. Her expression softened, and the stinging tears clinging to her eyelashes fell like dew drops on her cheek.
He dashed towards her after putting his water bottle on the counter at the side. "Are you okay—"
His words paused, his eyes widened and his face blanched. The frown deepened as his gaze dipped from her face to her neck, he stepped in closer, enough to have the heat of their bodies mingling and making her hold her breath. His jaw tightened as his eyes roamed on her exposed neck, her narrowed eyes carried the questions until she realized what he saw.
Hinata instinctively lifted her hand to cover her neck, but he caught her wrist mid-motion, his grip firm yet careful, as though she might shatter beneath his touch.
"D-Did you come to me…last night?" He let it out, in disbelief and dread. The sight visibly drained the colour from his face.
Hinata's gaze drifted from his face to the surroundings, the warm sunlight filtering inside and the birds singing songs while perched on the branch that hung around the window, "Ah…Um…"
His hold tightened on her wrist as he pulled her closer to him. His hand pulled hers away, exposing the mottled marks of blue and purple that marred her pale skin. His jaw clenched, and the muscles in his neck tightened as his gaze darkened with something primal and unrelenting.
Her chakra had dwindled to an extent that she was unable to heal herself, she planned to keep the bruises covered until she recovered but Haru had spilt the milk on her shirt and she had to get out of her high-neck top.
Hinata mentally chided herself for being unprepared.
He swallowed, his eyes trailing upwards, locking with hers. "Were you there with me? Was it real?"
She flinched, her fingers curling into her palm as if she could will away her trembling. She stammered, "You were having a…nightmare…I thought to check—"
He released her hand abruptly, stumbling back as though her words were a physical blow. One hand raked through his hair while the other covered his face, his breaths harsh and uneven. His voice cracked, "But I assaulted you!"
Hinata walked towards him, shaking her head, "No!" Her voice wavered but didn't break.
His arm shot out, palm up, a silent plea for distance. He staggered backwards until his spine met the counter, leaning heavily against it as his head bowed low, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his shame.
He muttered, his words muffled behind his hands, "Kakashi was wrong before but now…he is right…I raised my hand on you!"
"That is not true." Hinata found her voice, her breathing and an ounce of her courage, "I wanted to wake you up, it was an accident."
While holding his face in his palms, he shook his head, his voice sounded broken and sharp, "No—"
She sounded winded as she confessed, "I am not hurt." The physical bruise was nothing, it would stop aching in a day or two, but the mental trauma she burdened after her trip into his hell—was horrifying her, churning her blood, breaking her from inside.
"The bruises on your neck say otherwise, Hinata!" He lifted his head, his glare carried a hint of pity.
Hinata's mind raged, she couldn't believe that she had to defend Sasuke from Sasuke himself, "I will decide what hurts me—"
Sasuke grumbled, pointing at the blue and purple-ish bruising coiling around her throat, "What the hell, you are wounded—-" His grimace darkened his features.
Hinata raised her voice, and the biting tang she often carried for him returned, he bristled on the spot and straightened up, leaning away from the counter. "You have hurt me, Sasuke. But not last night."
"But…" Sasuke's eyes lingered on her neck.
Hinata took a steadying breath as she argued, "I will heal myself, once my Chakra is—"
"Sakura will heal you. Do not argue with me on this." He covered the distance between them with each step alerting her brain, "After you and Haru have your breakfast, we are going to the hospital," he commanded, cocking his eyebrow, his words were firm and dismissive with no space for her.
His hand lifted as if to touch her throat, his knuckles grazing her skin, but the wince that escaped her lips made him recoil as if burned. A low, weighted murmur came as a response, "I…I am sorry."
Hinata trembled, his apologies were rare but always loud, blaring and tugged at her heartstrings.
He turned around and grabbed his bottle from the counter and an apple from the basket, walking away from her. Her mind reeled, hundreds of images flashed through her mind and penetrated her sanity, invading her peace. Whatever was left of it. She asked, her question was unbidden, but the newly found side of Sasuke added to his mystery instead of solving his already existent maze, "Sasuke…" He glanced back at her, over his shoulder, offering a nod as a response.
His hand lifted as if to touch her throat, his knuckles grazing her skin, but the wince that escaped her lips made him recoil as if burned. "D-Did…your b-brother do…that…" She swallowed a lump stuck in her throat, her eyes dipped to the floor. Her hands wrung each other, her palms rolling over one another, her sweat clung on the end of her brow and the slow and faint heartbeats began to quicken again, "D-Did he really…was he…"
Sasuke turned around, his eyes blank, the mask he often wore was back in its place, "Yes. He did." The bitterness in his brief response, paired with the hollowness of his stare made her heart pound in her chest.
At that moment, he didn't look like the Sasuke from the vision, he looked like the Sasuke from the perspectives of everyone in Konoha. Except for Naruto's, because Naruto's perspective of Sasuke was always softer, tender and much more humane.
Hinata averted her gaze, but offered her condolences, which were a decade too late, "I am sorry."
Sasuke's jaw twitched, and the cogs in his mind began to spin, she could read the seething fury flaring beneath the control that was as fragile as the glass, "Why?"
Hinata coughed, her voice hoarse and the ache in her throat persisted, but she managed to explain, "Nobody deserves that."
Sasuke tilted his head sideways, raising his eyebrows at her, his flaring anger dimmed but the tension simmering beneath his words gave away the state of his mind, which was mirroring hers—befuddled. He asked, his words followed by a bitter chuckle, "Not even the one who killed Naruto?"
"No," she gasped, "Not even him." In her eyes, shone the anguish of the melancholy which struck him as he turned to stone on the spot. Her conviction caught him off-guard.
Hinata found him again—the grief-struck seven-year-old boy was right there, in front of her, looking at her as if she ignited him on fire. As if her words tasted like sin on his tongue. As if he was still at war, not just in his dreams, but in his reality as well.
Her words, her admission…or the first shade of her kindness on him, coiled around him, tightly wound.
She believed that Naruto was truly happy, wherever he was because Sasuke was bestowed kindness. And by none other than…Hinata.
.
A/N: YOUR FAVS AND REVIEWS WILL KEEP ME GOING!
I will never be able to know what you all feel about this unless you let me know, so feel free to comment whatever you wanna say about this YOUR REVIEWS MAKE ME SO HAPPY, the last chapter's reception was so good by yall!
This chapter was supposed to be longer, with 3 more essential scenes but I felt like this was the right moment to end this chapter!
- What was your favourite moment?
- What do you think will be the focus of this arc?
- SasuHina are moving, step by step...what do you think?
- Any questions for the author? hehe.
NEXT CHAPTER SPOILER: We will have Hinata and Sasuke both finding their bonds aside from each other. ANY GUESSES?
- If you want, you can read my other SasuHina fics too - Wilted Petals (A longfic) & Make the Angels Cry (A oneshot); I'd be very thankful if you check those out!
ELLA!