CHAPTER 14: BEFORE THE NEW BEGINNING (FIRST ARC)
The village buzzed with life as the darkened sky above dawned upon them, glittering with stars. Sasuke had taken a short stroll outside of Konoha, which he desperately needed to clear his mind, to remind himself of the Sasuke he used to be— unbothered and alone. His few hours outside of Konoha couldn't heal the damage that his home had bestowed upon him, his previous night with his wife had left him empty, and he was yet again forced to give away a part of himself, that he didn't know was there anymore. The flame of last night with Sakura had burned him to a crisp, and despite bearing the blazing heat, he couldn't erase the one cursed memory he wanted to not acknowledge, out of his mind—the memory of her and his best friend.
As he passed by the gates of Konoha, entering the realm of his destruction again, the familiar noiseless pounding began to throb at the back of his head. The yearning for solitude and wandering continued to clench at his chest, the distance with the soil where he was born was still a chasm he couldn't cross, or rather…didn't want to cross. His feet dug into the dirty pavement of the home where he didn't belong and couldn't breathe.
The guards at the wooden entrance of Konoha's gate spotted him and bowed their heads, a lingering fear and a sparkle of awe in their eyes. With an unwanted force, Sasuke dragged his feet forward, strolling around the dimly lit pavement as he passed by the lined-up shops of food & weaponry. He ducked his head and rubbed his temples as he let the surrounding chatter of drunken people and laughter of budding youthful energies dissolve in the thick air of the night. The slithering chill bit on his knuckles, he flexed his hand, eyeing the unmarred pale skin of his hand.
A memory flashed through his mind, his first encounter with her. The way the light brush of fingers had healed the untended scars of his past, the way her smooth, water-like chakra had seeped into his skin and calmed his flared nerves— Sasuke should have known, he should have picked up at the anomaly that her existence was in his life.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the flicker of pale and blue, his immediate reaction was to pause on the spot and glance at her way. He could see Hinata sitting alone at the wooden counter on a swivelling chair, her eyes half-lidded and fixated on the empty glass before her and the abandoned skewer of Dango, her shoulders hunched as though retreating inward. A wave of silent melancholy surrounded her, her finger circled the rim of the glass and her lips quivered, chill passing through the open door fluttered through the dark cascade of hair on her back. She dropped her head on the table, the thud alerted the audience around her whose eyes snapped towards her.
Sasuke's fist clenched at his side and his jaw tightened. The Sake shop was on the edge of Konoha's entrance—full of travellers from other countries who stunk with sweat and drank madly. It was a spot for travellers to rest and resume their plans after a quick relief or drink. To see her there, passed out on the table, fragile hand still holding onto her cup as she breathed heavily while her shoulders shook, enraged him and his blood boiled.
Through the window, Sasuke could see the hungry and invasive gazes on her. Her dress was like a skin on her, pale and mid-length, with delicate straps holding her neckline, leaving her shoulders bare. A sense of protectiveness ran through his veins at the way the appreciative glances of the men there turned predatory, their eyes roaming over her bare legs as if they had any fucking right.
Two men, unsteady on their feet, emboldened by the drinks, stumbled through the crowd to reach her spot. One dragged a stool beside her and plopped down, swivelling towards her. Sasuke inhaled sharply, the power teeming behind his eyes throbbing. That filthy man dared to have his hand hovering over her thigh, Sasuke did not understand the speed with which he scurried inside and yanked that man's hand away from her skin, to his dismay, that man's fingers brushed briefly on her thigh, then she bristled. A tremor coursed through her body, as in her half-dazed state, she flinched. Her brows drew together and her eyes fluttered.
"Who the fuck are you?" That man yelled, stumbling back. His dark lust-filled eyes dipped to stare at his hand, where Sasuke's simmering furious chakra incinerated his skin. His friend held him by the shoulder, pulling him back. Sasuke's hard glare seeped into them, inciting fear.
Hinata's crumpled frame lifted, and Sasuke stood hovering behind her. She craned her neck and shot a look over him, her eyes squinted and clouded with haze. Her lips curled into a pout, her brows deepening into a frown. "Uchiha-san?"
The companion of that filthy man had his eyes go wide as the words tumbled out of his mouth like a confession in the church, "Uchiha as in M-Madara's descendent?" Sasuke huffed, the blood rushing in his veins was burning him from within.
He was unaware of the fury coiling around him.
Hinata hopped off the stool, her feet barely supporting her as her knees buckled, she dwindled and held the edge of the table to support her swaying figure. She giggled, "Uchiha-san…" She turned to him, biting her lip, "He is scared of you." Her shoulders shook as another cackle escaped her mouth, Sasuke sharpened his gaze on her, at her stupidity of not reading the room.
She sunk, her shoulders slumped as the glint in her eyes dimmed momentarily.
"Whatever! How dare he abuse me like this? Does Konoha serve their guests like this?" That scum grumbled, grating Sasuke's nerves, testing the fraying threads of his patience. "I…will take this matter to the Hokage." He lifted his hand as if to show around to the audience who couldn't care less, as they were occupied downing their drinks and drowning in the laughter.
"I apologize on my partner's behalf." The other man who yanked his pathetic friend back, bowed to Sasuke. "We are mere travellers, we will leave for the Land of Waves in the morning—"
That abomination of a man stepped forward, pulling his hand off from his friend and having his eyes roam over Hinata from head to toe. Reaching out towards her, his trembling, coal-struck hand lifted to brush against her arm, Sasuke's wildness lapped at his insides, and his ferocious flame burned brighter. He stepped forward, standing beside Hinata, catching his hand in mid-air, squeezing his wrist with a force that could snap the bone with ease.
"Jiro! Stay back! She must be Uchiha's woman!" His friend, who didn't lack sense as the scum did, growled.
The foul man ran his hand along his dark hair, clutching the roots in irritation as he attempted to pry his hand from Sasuke's bone-crushing hold. "She is not! Otherwise, she would not be drunk and lonely…" His eyes darted towards Hinata who was shifting and wavering by the table, her fingers barely holding the edge of the table. "Look at her, so gentle, so soft…so ripe—"
Sasuke twisted his wrist, eliciting a pained groan out of his mouth instead of suggestive remarks about Hinata which stung him. Sasuke snapped, the electric rage heavy in the air, "Keep your hands and words to yourself or else you will have no limbs and no eyes left!"
Hinata heaved a deep sigh, followed by a faint squeak which made him turn his head towards her. Her dark hair framed her face as she frantically attempted to get a particular strand of hair out of her face. Sasuke pulled his hand away from that man's wrist in a sharp motion, ensuring that an additional sharp thread of his chakra flowed inside his skin. He was about to reach out to push her hair behind her ear but she steeled her stance, stepping forward, the limp and waver tugged at her step. She pushed herself in front of Sasuke, he towered behind her like a murky cloud.
Sasuke instinctively looped his arm around her waist, he felt her breath hitch, and her body stiffened but with a passing minute, she eased into his hold, leaning back to press her back to his hardened chest. Sasuke sucked in a sharp breath and looked ahead, avoiding the softened eyes looking up at him from over her shoulder. She breathed in and turned her face towards those two men as well.
Sasuke felt Hinata put one hand over his forearm wrapped around her waist and the other hand, raised and reached out towards the man who had a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips with his eyes trailing over the bare expanse of her skin. Sasuke's brows knitted together, the warmth of her body spilling inside him with the mere touch of her back on his chest but the wave of cold surged for a moment.
And before he could realize it, the man who he detested fell on the floor with a shriek.
Sasuke almost shook his head, but his eyes caught the flicker of a blue-purple tendril of chakra lacing around the slender and long fingers of her raised palm. "Indeed, I am...g-gentle," she croaked out with a snicker.
"What did you do, Hyuga?" he queried. He knew that her brush of fingers over the man's arm threw him into a frenzy of anguish on the floor, rattled and bruised from within by the water-like chakra suffocating his insides.
Hinata spun on the spot, facing Sasuke. Her head lifted, her face angled up to meet his darkened flames. Her cheeks, already reddened, turned darker. A smile curled into her lips, her puffed-up cheeks adding a sheen of youthful glow to her face. Her trembling hand moved his body, shuffling over his torso, clutching the flap of his cloak. "I w-was being g-gentle…" she chuckled, her eyes half-lidded. Her scent of lavender mingled with the sharp intoxicating smell, clinging to her hair and glistening at her lips.
Sasuke felt the unease welling up within him. She stirred in his hold, the wailing from those two men blurred as he felt her pressing onto him, her head almost lolling back and her gait swaying. He sighed and Hinata sniffled, he ducked and had his arms snake around the back of her thighs as he lifted her, throwing her over his shoulder.
"Uh…U-Uchiha-san!" she protested, as he turned around, walking outside of the suffocating shop. She fidgeted over his shoulder, her fists punching his back, "I will be g-gentle on you too! P-Put me d-down!"
"Shut up!" Sasuke snapped.
"I…I a-am not a c-child." Her stammering words slurred as the intoxication hung around her mind.
He continued to walk in the shadows, carrying her slumped form over his shoulder, hearing her grumbles and squeaks. In those heavy steps, with his strong grasp over her thighs, he realized something…something that pulled at his heart. His bubbling reality was scarred, and the brewing unknown newness in his actions and emotions was daunting—he pondered with a frown pinching at his brow and a mildly chill wind whipping at his hair.
He was unravelling himself string by string.
Or she was.
Peering at the woman slung over his shoulder, he gruffly mumbled to himself, hoping that her drunkenness kept her in the dark about his predicaments. "Fuck you, Hyuga!"
.
.
The night's wind swept through the narrow path, its chill biting through the fabric of his cloak and making even Sasuke's skin prickle. On his shoulder, Hinata shivered faintly, her body trembling against him as if the cold had seeped deep into her bones. Her midnight hair, loose and wild from the night's events, danced lightly in the breeze, brushing against his neck like a ghost of a touch.
They had taken the abandoned trail. The thought of anyone crossing their path, anyone seeing them in this state, was a nuisance he wasn't prepared to entertain.
The village thrived on whispers. And the sight of the Shadow Hokage—infamous, enigmatic, and barely tethered to Konoha—carrying the inebriated wife of the Seventh Hokage through its streets was not just fodder for gossip. It was a firestorm waiting to ignite. He could already imagine the snide remarks, the sideways glances, the veiled insinuations.
Sasuke tightened his grip slightly, adjusting Hinata's weight against his shoulder as her head lolled to the side. She murmured something incoherent, her voice a soft slur that melted into the night, and he exhaled sharply, his breath visible in the cold air.
Under the canopy of trees, Sasuke guided her to the bench.
"I'm a former shinobi," she huffed as he gently pushed her to sit. Her arms folded across her chest, her chin tilted in stubborn indignation. "I'm n-not a child, Uchiha-san. I h-have two children of my own!"
"Hm." His response was noncommittal, the usual monotone that revealed nothing.
"You're disregarding me too," she accused, her voice sharp with the edge of an argument she seemed eager to start.
"Yes," he admitted plainly, meeting her fiery but dazed glare without flinching. "But only because you're drunk."
Her lips parted, indignation spilling from her like steam escaping a kettle. "Rude," she muttered, her tone more petulant than angry now.
Sasuke didn't respond to it, he simply lowered himself next to her on the bench. The chill in the air, the warmth of her presence—a contradiction he always felt around her. The silence stretched between them, the hum of skittering cats in the bushes along with the buzzing cicadas was the only echo around them. He swallowed the tension surging up in his throat when she leaned on his arm, her palm splayed on his thigh, clutching his trousers' fabric as if she held on to him while drowning. He turned to her, startled. Her head tipped on his shoulder while her eyes stared ahead, pale and blank, gleaming yet saddened. She let out a small cackle, "It…is funny."
"What is?" he asked.
"He…was going to…complain to the Hokage about you." She snorted.
"And?" he probed, arching an eyebrow.
She pulled away, wrapping her bare arms around herself, shielding herself against the gust of wind that whirled around her. The moonlight fell on her, illuminating half of her face, turning the pale and crimson of her into silver, like the shine on a honed blade. Like his blade.
Her small chuckle was wry as she expressed, "Naruto…he…he would…stand by you…even if you…b-burn—" she coughed, haze taking over her words as she slurred, but Sasuke huffed, understanding what she meant to convey.
He allowed himself a faint smirk, a fleeting acknowledgement of the truth in her words. "Technically, I did burn the world," he murmured. "And literally, he was with me." The flashes of his past replayed in his mind in a quick blur.
Her soft twinkling giggle pulled him out of a sinking trap, which was his memories, and he almost heaved a deep sigh with a shudder running through his skin. He ceased the mental dilemma weaving itself with his existence as if to remind him of the Sasuke he used to be, the Sasuke who he now detested. She pulled herself off the bench, swaying slightly as she stumbled forward. "His…loyalty to you…makes me wistful." Her words trailed behind as she walked.
He saw the white dress, pure white of a swan, swirling around her, engulfing her in a halo of elegance, even if she was barely walking straight. The sight of her made common sense slip away from his soul, and his eyes, the most powerful ones, felt powerless when she shone the brightest when he sawher. He wasseeingher.
She ducked down to yank the straps of her sandals and flung them to the side. She stepped on the cold cobblestones, giggles sputtering from her mouth. Her eyes closed, her hair wild and her arms wide—as she began to play, toes curling and pressing in the cold cobblestone, balancing one foot then leaping to another two stones away. Her childlike radiance and carefree swaying reminded him of when he found her dancing on the lake under the moonlight.
That moment, right in front of him, unconcealed—the scent of her being couldn't be hidden, couldn't be…ignored.
She looked free.
Is this what freedom looks like? He asked himself mentally. As a person who had wandered around the world yet still seeking a home, freedom fascinated him. The sparkle of freedom on her fascinated him.
But then he noticed the ache stiffening her shoulders, the helplessness draping over her eyes and the quiver running through her limbs.
She looked…almost on the verge of freedom.
And that was worse.
They stayed there, suspended in the quiet of the night, away from the world and the whispers of the people around them…perhaps, they were truly free…even if it was for a moment. Even if it was together. Sasuke rose from the bench quietly; the fleeting night howled and the fragile truths roared yet he chose silence to communicate with her. She was becoming a hidden amusement for him, a friend he never asked for, but a friend he couldn't let go of even if the world glowed and he was with her, in the absolute darkness.
She swayed dangerously, teetering on the edge of falling. With measured steps, he followed. He hovered a step behind, his hands poised to catch her should she stumble too far. She kicked up her feet, savouring the coolness of the stones beneath her, and her voice drifted back to him—a singsong him that he couldn't quite decipher.
She stumbled, her balance faltering, and his hand shot out instinctively. He caught her arm just before she could fall, steadying her with a firm but gentle grip.
"Hyuga," he groaned. "Careful!"
She turned to look at him, her face showered by the moonlight. Her expression softened, and momentarily, the defiance in her eyes gave way to something more vulnerable. Her lips twisted into a pout. He glanced at her and almost snickered at how her cheeks flushed due to drinks and subdued fury.
She turned around, reached out to hold his shoulder, dipped her head, and slipped her feet into her sandals. He leaned forward to let her steady herself. She then lifted her face and stared back with her pearly eyes. Her gaze flickered down from his eyes and lingered over the exposed skin of his neck, he stirred as her fingers began to trace the faint marks etched onto his skin. He gulped, averting his gaze, shame flooded inside him.
His breath hitched, but then he drew the collar forward, hiding the exposed skin. Her hand slipped down and clung to the fabric of his shirt. Her delicate frame shivered under the whispering wind passing through the trees and rustling the leaves, sending a chill down their bones. "Is…t-this why you didn't v-visit me last night?" she angled her face up to meet his fallen gaze.
"Hyuga!" he groaned, unable to process that she knew about his visits to her balcony.
"You are spending time with Sakura…it is…good." Her eyes flickered to the marks his wife had left on her. Grumbling at the bubbling shame within him, he tightened the hook around his neck, ensuring that her all-seeing, all-consuming eyes didn't devour the night of obligation branded on him.
"I will drop you home—"
"I k-know…" she sounded winded as she breathed heavily, eyes half-shut. "I know you have been visiting me…at night…"
Sasuke felt the world crashing down on him. Even in her inebriated state, she managed to seep under his skin and rattle his very being. His eyes narrowed slightly, a pang twisted his insides and he blurted, "I am sorry. I should not have, it was wrong—"
She turned scarlet, as she asked, "You saw Naruto?"
The pictures from that night; Naruto and Hinata, engulfed in each other's embrace, relishing in the intimacy which sent him to a frenzy, hurting the back of his brain, "I shouldn't have—"
Her voice became low, her fingers clutched his shirt tightly as she attempted to pull him closer with her frail strength. Her lips trembled when she complained, "But he wasn't there last night…then why didn't you…why…why?… I mean…I don't …" Her voice slurred, she swayed on the spot, and he leaned forward to snake his arm around her waist to steady her.
"You knew…?" he asked flatly, attempting to anchor himself. Because he was drowning from within, sinking into the abyss of shame and regrets. The touch of the unknown newness that had started to wrap around him like a shroud, puzzled him.
"I have Byakugan." A wry smile twisted on her lips. "I didn't…I couldn't see when…Naruto was there…I am sorry about—"
"Shut up!" he said, irritated. "Don't apologise, I should apologize—"
Her expression softened, blurring the worry etched on her, "I felt safe." A melancholy harmonized with her tone, a wistfulness threaded in her words.
"Your nightmares—"
She coughed. Closing her eyes and pressing her frame to his, she mumbled, "I didn't have them much when…when you were there…"
He resisted the urges simmering beneath him, the ones he couldn't decode, couldn't translate into sanity. He retorted, sounding pissed, his hold on her waist tightened and he intended to pick her up and take her home, to fulfil the responsible duty. "You are drunk—"
A spark of fascination lit up her face, a smirk curving her lips and her eyes gleamed when she wriggled in his hold and slid her hands up to his collar, exposing the sin he was trying to hide. A sin for him, not for the world. She giggled, however, the mirth in her tone, vanished. "I suppose I know why you have been absent…"
His patience ran thin, and his anger flared but bowed in front of her. He sounded like he whined when he grumbled, his helplessness against her agitated him, mocked him yet he yielded. "Don't be like this, for fuck's sake, I can't deal with you—"
She murmured, "Ssh!" She pressed her finger on his lip, and he sucked in a sharp breath, his addled brain needed to be numb, to be frozen or electrocuted because he needed to either feel something horrendous or nothing. What he was feeling…he needed to erase it, he was too inundated by her existence and he detested the control that was shattering.
Her gaze lifted. The hazed focus of her pale eyes mapped out his face with keen yet withdrawn interest. Her fingers traced the contours of his cheek and then around his eyes. He grunted, unable to pull away. She slid his bangs back, heaving a deep sigh, "Would it be …w-weird if I say I find it…pretty?" she stammered. Her eyes bored into his Rinnegan, with a brave and fierce glint.
Sasuke gravelly added, "Yes. You are stupid. It is a tool of death." He rolled his eyes, trying to push down the pressure building in his temples where her fingers were tracing lazy circles as she continued to inspect his eyes.
"Reminds me of Pein," she shuddered. "Do you know…that…I fought him, for Naruto. Confessed my love there." She laughed, bitterness and deep-seated pain ached in her cackle.
"Quite brave, Hyuga." He exhaled, "Let's go home—"
She pointed to his Rinnegan and her lips stretched to a grin. "But It is purple, my favourite colour," she pouted, looking bashful as she suppressed a giggle. "What is yours?" She wiggled her eyebrows, and her hand slipped down to his shoulder, clawing him as if to feast on him. Her voice was tiny, just like her.
"Black." He turned his eyes away, looking around the street. He caught the dimming street light, hanging with a dull squeaking sound.
She hummed, "Is this why Uchiha-san picked the black dress for me…?"
He tensed at the memory of the day he accidentally entered her changing room. He visibly cringed and stiffened. "Hyuga!" His sharpened voice warned her, but she wasn't deterred. She continued to wave off his attempts to bring her back to sanity.
A few seconds felt like centuries had passed. The silence, yet the noise of their existence, continued to gravitate towards a destination that both of them were not ready to take. Glancing at Sasuke, she pressed closer. Sasuke cursed under his breath.
"I can h-heal them…remove them…" Her fixation with the marks on his neck infuriated him but nothing raged beneath his skin. She bit on her lip, her half-lidded eyes twinkling with the glaze of drunkenness. A part of him coaxed him to ponder on the way the sober Hinata would react if she'd known the things she was doing as a drunk madness. A snicker escaped his mouth at the mental picture of reddened puffed cheeks, a pout and a deep frown. The indignation and embarrassment would lace her apologies.
He nodded. "Alright."
She rose on her toes, her softness brushed against his hardened chest. He had to restrain a groan lumping in his throat. His hand unclasped the collar of his cloak and she leaned in with her fingers coated in bluish-purple chakra, soothing and soft, grazing on the marks, reversing the skin back to pale. Her dazed eyes were somehow focused on his neck, and the pulse of Byakugan thrummed on her face. Her dress shifted, the thin strap slipping down her shoulder and exposing more of her paleness. He instinctively hooked a finger under the strap and pulled it back into place, his callused fingers caressing her soft skin, leaving the specks of his heat on her cold skin.
She trembled, stumbling back. Her eyes were wide as if the intoxication had vanished for a moment. "Sorry?" A stark befuddlement adorned her face. A light windy drizzle began, dampening her hair and drenching her, and her dress began to cling to her skin. Her shoulders were hunched, and she wrapped her hands around herself, mimicking a hug, trying to warm herself amidst the cold wind crackling.
Her cheeks flushed as she looked down, then ducked down to strap her sandals tightly. He stepped closer to her, and without a word, he shrugged his cloak off and draped it over her shoulders. He felt a jolt strike through her body as the cold nipped on her skin, as well as his proximity. She clenched her fists and pressed them to her chest, leaning closer to him, heaving deep exhales as she uttered, "One question, Uchiha-san."
He sighed, "Yes?" He couldn't believe the strength of his weakening patience, against her, his annoyance always fell short.
"Why do you call me Hyuga all the time…" her words trailed, she squinted her eyes, trying to focus on his face.
He raked his gaze over her, her hair framing her face and hiding the crimson shade creeping over her like a heat rush and her hands fidgeting and hooked on the clasp of his cloak draped over her. His mouth twitched, the question caught him off guard, and he was unable to decode the drunk Hinata, "Habit!" he exclaimed, the rasp in his voice tamed.
"Why?" She questioned, her expression contorted, dulled.
He shrugged, looking away, above and beside, anywhere but here, the pleading eyes were too much. "I don't know."
"Frustrating!" she scowled as she slammed her fragile fist against his chest lightly. "You never answer me. I dislike you."
Now that picked his interest. Her confession of her dislike towards him came as a surprise, he couldn't see Hinata ever disrespecting anyone by being honest like that, except Naruto, he snickered mentally. He cocked his brow, shifting his eyes towards her, "Really?"
"Yeah! Don't be cocky!" she raised her finger at him, pointing at his face, angling her face up and the beckoning annoyance shining in her misty eyes. "You treat me…like I am your…maid." She managed to let out her protest amidst the hiccups.
He felt a shiver sweep over him at the way her childlike drunken protests made her almost choke on her words, "What?" he shook his head.
"Yes!" she nodded her head, frantically pushing her dark locks off her face. She glared, her lips downturned, "You call me Hyuga all the time, you eat my food and don't even show gratitude always. You…you..look at me with…anger too and say Hyuga this, Hyuga that…Hyuga Hyuga…" she heaved a sigh while he bit the inside of his cheek, struggling to stop the smile bubbling on his face at her unnecessary fury, "My father…he treats the unfortunate branch members who help around the main house like this. Hyuga this, Hyuga that…"
"Calm down," he scoffed, cutting in her yapping.
She hummed, "Thick-headed Uchiha-san!" Her tone teetering between exasperation and drunken amusement.
"You don't call me by my name too," he smirked, tipping her chin up. The chill simmering in the air wrapped around them as a shudder made her hiss and suck on her teeth.
She whined, "Out of respect! I…we are not familiar—"
He clicked his tongue, hardening his gaze, grasped her chin, and squeezed it enough to make her yelp, "We are not familiar?"
She slurred, waving her hand in the air as to make a point, "I mean…You…you…call me Hyuga because you…didn't bother to remember my name all those years!" She stumbled back, swatting his hand off her chin, "Right? You didn't know my name—"
"Initially," he admitted, blinking away the mocking pleasure clouding his vision. Despite the irritation people tend to cause for him, in him, around him—he cherished the tiny moments of unbidden entertainment Konoha gave him, there…it was Hinata, entertaining him, amusing him and unravelling him.
She gasped, an outrage caught in her chest as she steadied her breathing. She then spun away, mumbling, "I hate you!"
Her steps were clumsy as she tried to stumble away from him, the cloak heavy on her and shrouding her like a melancholy. Sasuke rushed behind her, catching her by the arm, she tried failingly to wriggle out of his hold.
His patience strained but a unique elation to the point of exhilaration rumbled within him, propelling it to seek the spectacle from her a little more. He pushed, "I didn't think cooking for me was a hassle for you—"
She snapped her head towards him, her fingers clawing at his hand on her arm, "Not for a man who didn't know my name and ate four portions!" she retorted, droplets of rain continued to flush her face.
His tone teasing, his rare chuckle echoed, "I know your name now…Hinata." He emphasized every syllable of her name. Hinata!
"Don't call me that! I don't care now!" She glared at him, her nails digging into the back of his hand. "You just saw my eyes and was like 'Oh, this woman has pale eyes, she has to be a Hyuga, whatever!' right?" she frowned and her nose flared.
He inhaled sharply, loosening his grasp on her arm, "You're drunk. You're picking a fight over something that doesn't matter."
She whirled around, showing him her back, "My identity is a joke for you now?" She attempted to make sense, but the more she raged, the less sense she made and that…made him laugh, the deep cackle that was buried within him erupted. She tripped over her step as she turned around, widened red-rimmed eyes striking him, he leaned forward to lace his hand with hers, pulling her closer to him again.
The heat emanating from his body calmed her down as her ragged and heavy breathing dimmed. "I don't come to you just for the food, Hinata." He leaned down, his breath fanning her mouth and she bit her lip, her wide eyes searching the lines on his face and flitted towards the smile resting on his lips.
"Then?" she gasped.
"I come for you," he admitted. "You are a good company." Her anger faltered and she lowered her head, sagging against him, pressing her forehead on his chest as she hummed incoherently with her words jumbling and slurring, words tumbling out and blurring. "Let's take you home." He felt her gasp and nod against his chest. His hand squeezed hers, eliciting a grumble out of her. "I hope you remember yourself like this, Hyuga."
She leaned back, a pout set on her lips. Before she could open her mouth, and protest further at how he referred to her by Hyuga, he flicked her forehead and pulled her into his portal, dizziness made her fall back into his embrace. Her breath hitched and she almost choked on air, the reason he was walking her home, drunkenness with his portals was never a good option.
.
.
.
The soft glow of streetlamps cast a golden hue at the Uzumaki Residence's porch. Hinata stirred and roused, waking up from an abrupt unconsciousness. Sasuke pushed the iron gate and led her inside, she stumbled towards the bench beside the door and sank on it. Her dress was drenched and translucent against her skin, sending a chilling shiver up her skin as she squeezed herself on the bench, hunching forward and pulling his cloak on her, tightly wounding around her as her teeth clattered.
"Go inside," he rolled his eyes, the impending stubbornness was loud in the damp air.
There was nothing but silence as a response, he gritted his teeth, "Hyuga!"
She expressed, lifting her gaze, "Kids are asleep. He isn't home."
"You will get sick!" he seethed.
"Doesn't matter…" her words tumbled out, paired with a croaky sob.
Sasuke ran a hand in his damp hair, the mood tilted as soon as they stepped into her residence, the childlike energy and defiance morphed into an aching stubbornness with a biting edge. He turned around, his steps thumping against the gravel, but something tugged at his chest, weakening his resolve. Cursing under his breath and groaning, glaring at the moon above.
He turned back.
Towards her.
Shaking off the rain from his shirt, he stepped up to the porch.
He lowered himself beside her on the bench, the swing creaked under his weight.
"Today…you have bested me, Hyuga. Tested me too!"
Her eyes fixed on the puddle at the edge of the steps, and the falling rain causing the ripple. She hummed, "Why is it so hard for Naruto to understand what I want him to understand." Sasuke didn't want to get into that conversation with her, he'd rather have her latching onto him, invading his personal space for the inspection of his Rinnegan or Sharingan than indulge in the complexities of relationships. He was the last person for that.
He leaned back, stretching his arm at the back of the bench, her damp hair brushed against his forearm. The cold bored into his bones, clashing with the heat he carried. He stopped the train of his thoughts to offer her a response, "He needs words. Spell it out for him."
He could hear the void of Naruto's absence clawing at her when she said, bitterness and yearning clashing together, "No! He reads you, Sakura and Kakashi…very easily."
He snuck a glance at her fallen state. Her shoulders curled inwards and her thighs squeezed together, her hands wringing each other while her feet tapped the ground. He let her know, "We go way back."
She released a breath as if she held it forever, followed by a sour snicker, "I have been his wife for…thirteen years."
Sobs wracked her frame. Her voice tapered off, while her shoulders shook. Watching her fall apart, when she had just smiled the brightest and showed him the innocent glint of her being—it felt like a dagger piercing through her. A woman like her, destroying herself, tormenting herself for a man who couldn't be enough for her—the red-hot anger made his head spin.
I am tired…of hoping…" her voice wobbled, "of making efforts, while…I am not…important enough." Her tone was quieter as she slammed her fists on her thighs.
"I don't understand how women like you are so stupid! So fucking idiotic to give chances where there is no need." Sasuke lashed out. "Why do you cry over him, again and again…why is it hard for you to just choose yourself? Why is it hard for you to read the fucking situation! You had thirteen years…Sakura had thirteen years too! I am enraged by the way you two have wasted your life running after men who have been nothing but failures!" He bellowed.
"Don't y-yell…" she croaked, her trembling voice tugged at his heartstrings. But the rage, the fury, the torment inside him burned brighter. He was tired too!
"Love is hard to let go," she whispered.
He bitterly questioned, raising his voice, "Do you love him? Is this what you call love?" he thumbed his temples, pinching them, to end the pain pulsing there.
"P-Please…d-don't, Uchiha-san," she begged, "Don't break me tonight."
Before he could respond, she turned to him. Her tear-stained face struck him, and his insides boiled. His fury was about to take control over him but her actions made him stiffen on the spot, when she leaned forward, resting her head in his lap, curling into his warmth as she dragged her legs over the armrest of the bench, the swing swaying lightly.
Sasuke's eyes widened, his throat turned dry, and he couldn't swallow the thickness stuck in his throat. Her delicate hand splayed over his knee, clutching the fabric. Her weight on him, her softness on him…coiled a thread of sharp fear around him. He hissed, "Hyuga!"
"You're… warm," she murmured, her voice slurring as exhaustion overtook her. "Safe… real."
"Fuck," he clenched his fist, pulling away from running his hand through the halo of dark hair spread over his lap. "You will be the death of me."
Her cheek pressed into his thigh, she scooted closer, drawing her knees, curling into a fragile creature which she was and wasn't. Her sobs quieted, the continued slurry mumbling fizzling out in the air as her breathing began to even out. She slipped into a slumber as Sasuke kept his gaze on her. The stress lines softening, the tears soaking and the damp hair strands sticking to her face—he choked the urge to tuck the wet locks away from her face.
But he pulled his hand back, fisting and punching the wall behind him with a groan clawing in his throat. He leaned back, head resting on the brick wall behind him as he kept his eyes shut, erasing the image he had involuntarily captured, branding in the walls of his brain. The sight of her existence, vulnerable and broken, on his lap, while being in a fitful slumber…scared him to death.
The kind of fear that was punishing him…was foreign. He had never experienced such fear ever before.
Hinata scared him, the way she peeled the layers off him, was unnerving.
Ripped apart from within, he wished to any God, to every God, to every existence…to just grant him some sleep to forget whatever was unfolding. He needed to just shut down.
Morning crept in a few hours later, the rain long gone, replaced by the soft light of dawn. Sasuke stirred, blinking at the warm hues of sunrise. Without a sound, he eased Hinata off his lap and draped his cloak over her still form, tucking it around her shoulders as added warmth. His fingers lingered briefly at the clasp, ensuring she was comfortable before he stepped back into his life. His life, which he dreaded to live.
He disappeared, leaving behind a memory…of his presence in a life where he didn't belong.
.
.
Sasuke, drained of his energy, entered his house. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows along the walls. His steps felt heavy, thudding on the floor. The suffocating silence of his house nipped at his core, the crimson shade marring his face reflected in the mirror as he washed the tendrils of sleep off himself. He grabbed the edge of the sink and hunched, groaning at the tension coiling around the base of his neck.
The flashes of the night he spent, flooded in his vision, clenching at his chest.
He lifted his face, looking at the weary lines at the corner of his eyes and the guilt swimming in his mismatched eyes. His lashing at Hinata was uncalled for; it wasn't his matter if she kept herself still in hopes for her husband, it wasn't his matter if she shed tears over a man who couldn't truly understand her.
His eyes trailed over his unmarked neck, the branding of his wife's love and passion was brushed away, by the soft pads of her fingers, the smooth chakra still throbbed as Sasuke breathed in and trailed his coarse fingers over the skin where she had left the specks of her water-like chakra.
"Sasuke-kun!" His wife's voice boomed, and Sasuke abruptly straightened. Clearing his throat, he squeezed his eyes shut to rid his mind of the images reeling his mind.
Sasuke patted his face with the towel, hoping to have the rush of blood fade from his face. He sauntered outside, geared towards the table where Sakura was plating the breakfast. He, keeping his eyes lowered, dragged his seat and the only noise that echoed was the scrape of the wood against the tile. He could feel his wife's eyes on him, however, he kept his focus on the steaming egg before him. The silence between them wasn't new but heavier.
"Where were you last night?" she said as she sat across him, her fingers clenching the fork tightly.
The facade of normalcy between them began to unravel. He answered, truthfully, "I found Hinata drunk, I helped her out."
"She doesn't drink usually," Sasuke saw the flicker of worry over Sakura's tensed face as she mused. Then her eyes hardened, the steely glint reflected towards him as she gritted, "All night, you were there?" Her voice clipped and sharper than any knives he encountered.
"Naruto has taken care of your drunken nights if I am not wrong." The biting edge in his voice made her stagger as she fidgeted in her seat. "I repaid the favour. To his wife."
The shallow normalcy, the tightly wound layers around them—everything began to shred, thread by thread.
The air shifted, thicker and charged. "You healed them?" her voice turned croaky as she eyed his neck. Her stare bore into him, unsettling him.
Sasuke paused, putting down his chopsticks. "They were getting weird in public," he said in a flat tone.
He felt the silence of the hall crack like lightning as her fork clattered against the table, the sharp clink echoing through the room. Instinctively, his eyes flicked upward, meeting hers. Her expression had crumbled—an initial moment of hurt etched into her features—but it was quickly consumed by the fire in her eyes. The rage there was unrelenting, scorching, and it flared endlessly.
With precision, her glare threw a thousand accusations at him. "Do you know," she began, her voice trembling, "I can count our nights together on one hand?"
The words punched through him, each syllable landing heavy in his chest. He didn't respond, but the tightness in his throat made it harder to breathe.
"Our first time," she continued, stepping closer, her voice rising with every word, "then the nights you visited during the first four years—twice. Once before the Lover's Day Festival. And two nights before recently—" her voice cracked, raw and trembling, "Five times, Sasuke. Five!"
He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply before he spoke. "I know."
"Do you plan to change that?" she demanded, her voice shaking with barely restrained anger. "Or do you still feel... weird?"
"Sakura—"
"You regret Sarada, don't you?" she interrupted with the accusation cutting through him like a blade.
His eyes snapped up to meet hers, his jaw tightening. "How dare you?" he said, his voice low, but he could feel the heat of his anger rising. "I don't regret having her. But I do regret our first time." He saw the tears welling up in her eyes. His foot continued to tap the floor relentlessly, the nerves bunching and clenching at his nape and the burning anguish brewed in his chest.
The look on her face; ashen and shattered, churned his insides. He never wanted to hurt her, never! But his words were bitter…a bitter truth.
Her voice was raw, "I…I…"
"I wasn't ready!" he expelled the weight off his chest finally. His fury beckoned him to spill it all, to let the ground beneath them split, to let the roof above them crash over them, to let the truth dispel whatever facade his wife had been believing. "You knew it, You knew it all too well!"
Her livid barrier cracked. Her hands trembled, and she stumbled as she sat up from the chair. The chair fell behind her, and the thudding noise echoed. "I apologized!" she shrieked. "I was drunk, and I wanted you. I missed you, and—"
"Because of that night," he interrupted, leaning forward, his voice rough with frustration, "I had to start something I wasn't ready for. Marriage. A Child. It was too soon."
Her quivering lips, her ripped expression—scared him. Her words came out as a breathy whisper, "Y-You…wouldn't have married me if…if…" Sasuke knew her enough to know what she was asking.
He squared his shoulders, steeling his composure. Toning down his voice, he grumbled, agitation lingering in his words. "Maybe I would have," he admitted, and the words felt like glass in his throat. "Out of love. After my atonement. With a clear head. Not because you were having my child."
The room felt like closing in on him when she stared blankly at him, her mouth parted and the colour of her eyes dimmed. "You married me…only for Sarada?"
The weariness of the conversation unfolding pressured on his shoulders. His rage bubbled within him again, just like his lashing at Hinata, he wanted to grab Sakura by her arms and shake her, shove some sense into her. He thumbed his temples, his eyes blazing as he stared back at her.
The stinging words danced on his tongue, he contemplated if he dared to finally break the illusion, at least from his end, or not.
He fought his fury to keep his voice steady and low. "What else could I do?" he said, his voice strained, almost breaking.
The realization broke down on him, crushed her. Her shoulders shook as a sob wracked her body. The truth gnawed at the flashy and colourful bubble that she had imagined around her. "You never desired me, Sasuke?" She covered her mouth as if the ragged gasps exposed the lack of strength.
He wanted to circle the table and offer her the shoulder she always loved to rely on. But he stood firmly and frozen, across her, against her. The hollow emptiness inside him urged him to bare himself. He flinched inwardly. "It was a year after I left, we were both drunk!" he began, his voice quieter now, laced with regret. "I came back to see you. Naruto. Kakashi. I wanted to feel... something. I just wanted to drop you off at your home to make you feel safe with me. But I wasn't ready. Not for a family. Not for a wife. Not for a child."
Her nose flared. She punched the table before them, rattling the plates. "You could have stopped me," she said, her voice shaking with accusation.
"I could have," he admitted, his voice raw. "But I felt obligated. I'd disappointed you for so long—never given you anything in return. I thought..." He hesitated, the words choking him. "I thought the least I could do was give you my body if that's what you wanted." He looked away, shame coursing through him. "But I couldn't give you my heart that night. It was too soon. I couldn't give you my mind—it was too broken. I couldn't give you my soul—it was too dark. So I gave you what little I could."
Her croaky sob cut through him. He resisted the urge to just storm off the hall, closing the conversation, and letting the fraying threads hold their marriage like before. But he let the storm of guilt not waver him. He tried to rein himself, but the way her voice broke when she sobbed, "You pitied me?" It made her blood boil in agony, in ferocious fury at himself.
He gruffly added, the frustration thrumming in his bones, "I pitied myself, Sakura. I gave you a night to satisfy you because I felt empty, I felt like a sinner needing to atone…and that was my atonement towards you!" His gaze dropped to the floor, "You wanted me to make up to you, for all the sins I committed against you…You wanted that night as a present! You said I was obligated to fulfil at least one of your desires. I gave it to you! Even if…"
"Even if you didn't want to have me that night?" she finished when he hesitated. She circled the table, reaching out to him by grabbing his collar and making him face him. "You never wanted me? You never can…in future?" Laced with prickling chakra, her fingers brushed against his neck as she yanked his collars, shaking him.
Light burns from her oozing chakra marked his neck, where her fingers mapped out his skin last night.
"Sakura—"
"You still don't want me," she pressed, her voice rising. "Is that why you don't sleep with me? Am I still your obligation?"
He exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. "I need to go," he said, his voice tight, his emotions clawing at him from the inside. He held her forearm, pulling it gently away from his collar.
She stepped back, a bitter laugh escaped her mouth. "Obligations still bind you?"
"Yes," he confessed, cursing the word that fell off his lips abruptly.
Her voice was a whisper now, full of torment. "What do I lack?"
"Nothing," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It's me. I lack something." He averted his gaze.
She crossed her arms across her chest. "What do you lack?" she asked, her voice breaking yet cutting with an underlying taunt.
"Maybe a heart that can love," he said, his voice hollow.
Her laugh was bitter, broken. "No," she said, shaking her head. "You love Naruto. You love Sarada. You love Kakashi in your own twisted way. Then why—" With each of her words, the exasperation within him became palpable.
He cut in, "If that is true," He stretched out an arm, laying a hand on her eyes were blank. "Then I love you too." The words felt rough on his tongue, rare in his mind and venomous in his heart. He, despite his cursed truth, wanted his warmth, whatever he was left with, to seep through her and comfort her somehow.
Biting her trembling lips, one breath at a time, she closed her eyes for a moment and gasped, "I would have worshipped this confession if I didn't know the truth behind it."
"But I…" Sasuke attempted to protest, knowing well that what he admitted to, eroded the edges of her sanity, instead of comforting her. Panic and regret swirled up, a dreadful mix surging up his throat, pausing his excuses.
"You don't love me the way a husband should love his wife!" she crumpled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She turned around and gathered the unfinished plates off the table, a strained string of gasps drifting through the air.
He swallowed hard, his chest tight. "Sakura... I tried."
"It wasn't enough," she said, flatly. "You weren't enough."
"It was all I had," he replied, his voice barely audible, the weight of his failure crushing him. "This is all I am."
"You could give more. You could be more." Sakura shook her head, "If you wanted, Sasuke, you could be more. Because there is nothing in this world that you can't do or be if you truly desire…" her voice echoed as she padded towards the kitchen, back turned to him and ache still visible in the way her body quivered.
The silence that followed was deafening. The wreckage of their words couldn't be taken back. The mere utterance of their wilting truths robbed them of a future that Sakura was weaving with the fraying threads of their relationship. But for some forsaken part, everything felt freeing, despite the weight pinching his core.
But Sasuke knew as he trudged upstairs, with steps heavy, he knew…that Sakura…was obligated to love him and he was obligated to bear it…until…until…only God knew until when.
But the time was near, he could feel the end pulsing in the air, roaring within him, hidden around them.
.
A/N: REVIEWSSSSS ARE NECESSARY FOR THE UPDATES! CUZ THEY TELL ME YOUR RAW VIEWS, WHICH MOTIVATES ME!
Some major developments. The revelation of SasuSaku relationship. WOO!
What do you expect next?
Sasuke is just deep into the shit hahahah
