Chapter 15: Fractured Bonds -

The floral shop was a serene spot for her, the usual buzz and hustle were muted by the early hour of the morning—the warm sunlight filtered through the glass-panelled windows, painting soft golden hues on the floor. The air hummed with the scent of fresh blossoms and the aroma of the tea steaming from Hinata's cup, which she held like a lifeline.

Hinata sat quietly on the round table near the counter, her eyes were heavy and her head was throbbing. The last night's drunken indulgence loomed like a blaring sun over her, making her sweat and feel the acidic burn in her chest. The hangover tea Ino had brewed for her had a bitter taste that cut through her grogginess. The scalding liquid trickling down her throat soothed her body, clearing out the fog of her mind as she tried to piece together the fragments from the previous night.

She could only remember waking up on the bench of her porch, draped in a dark cloak, which was way too familiar. Her cheeks reddened at Sasuke, who found her frazzled. Her mind reeled; all she could remember was her trip to the dango shop, which led her rebellious heart to indulge in sake. The only noise in her head, aside from the pounding at the back of her head, was the shrill voice of Sasuke, berating her for crying over Naruto.

"I don't understand how women like you are so stupid! So fucking idiotic to give chances where there is no need."

His biting words kept clenching at her heart, the sting of unshed tears teemed behind her eyes. Silence rang around her, making Sasuke's sharp words pierce through her chest. Her brows furrowed, the tension piling up. She caught the bottom lip between her teeth, and gnawed at it, to quell the shame and embarrassment roiling within her.

She couldn't remember anything else. I probably offended him. She made a mental note to apologize to Sasuke, even though the rush of embarrassment and the haunting reality of her unawareness of her actions from the previous night propelled her to dig the ground and bury herself.

She let out a groan, breaking her trance. She sipped on her tea, sighing deeply.

Hinata lifted her gaze. Ino leaned casually against the counter, her fingers deftly curled around the stems of flowers as she sorted them. Sakura was seated across from Hinata, her elbow propped on the table, her chin tucked into her palm, and her eyes roamed over the flower-patterned table mat.

"So," Ino began, her eyes glinted. "You are flaunting those marks." Ino leaned forward, her hand darted out, tipping Sakura's chin to the side, exposing faint traces of red and purple marring her pale skin. The spots were almost blurred and faded. Heat crept over her cheeks, she fidgeted on her spot, and Sakura's crimson face mirrored hers. Hinata averted her eyes from the evidence of passion on her neck, refocusing her attention on the steaming cup in front of her. She gulped, the sip she took seemed to be stuck in her throat as she coughed.

"Ino," Sakura groaned, swatting her friend's hand away, her voice tinged with irritation.

Ino's smirk only widened. "You could heal them, you know. Unless you want the attention."

"Sometimes…you just want to feel them a little longer…" Sakura's eyes darkened as she bit on her lip, Hinata could see the dilemma behind the guard. She could see the guarded vulnerability in Sakura's expression, the way her hand drifted unconsciously to her collarbone.

"That's very sexual," Ino quipped, raising an eyebrow. She pulled the chair and settled with them.

Hinata's eyes flickered between the two women. Her heart raced. The shift in the conversation tugged at her heart. She screwed her eyes shut, the spiralling thoughts and wildly aware imagination were churning her insides. Sasuke's face kept on flashing in her memory—his rare chuckle, his deep eyes, his warm hand snaked around her waist, steadying her—oh, Kami, what did I do last night?

Ino's voice cut through, halting the rumbling memories of Hinata, "Well, your sex life is active! Sai hasn't been home for weeks, I am famished." Sakura gritted her teeth, Hinata felt the unease slithering up her spine. The way the conversation was steering towards, kept her on the edge. Her hands trembled slightly as she brought the cup to her lips, taking a sip to mask her discomfort. She could feel the heat rise along her neck and face as if her body was rejecting the conversation entirely.

A couple of nights ago, Naruto had approached her too, with hopes and desires, with a passion so rare that she almost fell for it, but the memory of her hand pushing on his chest, keeping him at an arm's length flashed in her mind. Her heart sank.

Sakura shot a glare at Ino, her green eyes narrowing. "Sasuke came back after eight years, you ungrateful pig."

"Oh, yes," Ino replied, her lips curling into a sly grin. "And? How was it?"

Hinata did not want to listen to that. She was accustomed to hearing about Ino's adventures, but somehow knowing such intimate details of Sakura…of Sasuke, felt overbearing and raw. Hinata's eyes caught the flushed cheeks of Sakura and the small shy smile at the corner of her lips.

Sakura whispered, "It was good. He was…really great." No, Hinata surely didn't want to listen. She wished she could block out the noise around her. She prayed that a throng of crowd could just arrive at the spot, putting a pause in the conversation. The steam rising from her cup fogged her vision for a moment as she forced herself to gulp down the scorching liquid.

Ino snickered, her laugh cutting through the serene atmosphere of the shop. "I mean, after eight years of drought, you'd probably think anything is good, Mrs. Uchiha."

Sakura's glare sharpened, but she lifted her chin with pride. "He's Sasuke Uchiha. He's always been good at everything. And despite his… lack of interest in physical intimacy, he actually knows how to make a woman feel amazing. And he lasts." Hinata felt the blood warming under her skin, her breath hitched in her throat. She squirmed in her seat, her mind wanted to be numb but her heart thudded madly. Every word seemed to sink deeper into her skin, her pulse quickening against her will.

Ino's statement made Hinata choke on her tea, "Well, he is good at everything except staying and being a husband." Sakura's head snapped towards Ino, her gaze sharpening as her hand clenched into a fist on the table.

The weight of the statement pressed down on them. The room quieted for a bit. Hinata lowered her gaze. The tension in the air surged. Hinata didn't want to chase the curiosity bubbling inside her, but she knew Ino was going to scrape the wounds of Sakura.

Sakura ground her words, her sneer visible, "You used to gush over him—"

"Used to." Ino clicked her tongue, "He was a baby. I still admire him for his services to Konoha, but as your friend and as a woman…I despise him. He is not how a husband should be—"

Sakura's face fell. Her eyes drooped. Her mouth set into a thin line. Hinata felt the ache of Sakura in her bones as well, the pain was familiar and Hinata could feel the voice at the back of her mind, that pushed her to come in her support, "Let's not talk about this, Ino."

"Fine." Ino huffed. "He was good. He lasted. Then why do you look like he left you at the altar…he was literally inside you—"

Hinata winced as though struck, the words sending a jolt through her already frayed nerves. Her mind was already electrocuted with her blurring memories from last night, buzzing with currents coiling around her every thought, she didn't need anything more to thwart her sanity.

"It seems like I have to do all the work, he is not interested, not passionate," Sakura whined, her lips jutted out and trembled. Hinata felt the pang in her heart at Sakura's trepidation. Naruto's indifferent touch, his distant gaze—it all came rushing back. The initial years together were full of need, desire, yearning, yes. But after that, everything fell for Hinata, crumbled. Her passion fizzled out under the shattering weight of their fraying emotions. She tried, but it was like grasping at smoke.

Ino snickered, nudging Sakura's arm, "He left those marks on your neck. That's passion—"

"I literally asked him for those, can you believe it!" Sakura hissed, her voice croaking with the unheard sob, "He healed his marks, feeling weird about those. He couldn't even cherish those—"

"Sakura, calm down." Ino squeezed her shaking shoulder, "People can feel weird about that, it is natural."

Sakura sounded winded and enraged, her jaw twitching, "We are not that physically active, Ino…I have needs…he doesn't seem…he is not even physically attracted to me!" She slammed her fist on the table. Her ache was palpable in the way her blinking hid the tears.

Hinata sank in her seat, feeling the shadow of her own fate pulsing around her, reaching out to her to choke her.

Ino patted Sakura's arm, attempting to elevate her dismayed mood. Hinata's pale eyes flickered to Ino's, and a silent wave of understanding passed between them.

Hinata breathed, "Perhaps, due to his trauma he is unable to—"

Sakura looked at her, irked. "Hinata, we have been married for thirteen years, and he always runs away from me…always. He tolerates me and it hurts me, I feel inadequate—"

Inadequate. The word brought chills, Hinata could feel the exasperation in her veins. She knew all too well what Sakura was going through. The feeling of being unworthy, not enough—had been gnawing at Hinata for years. Hinata felt the ache radiating from her friend, a sorrow so tangible it clawed at her own chest.

She knew that pain.

She recognized the quiet despair, the way it seeped into every corner of your life until you questioned your own worth.

Sakura continued, her voice hoarse, "He still doesn't love me!" She trembled, "Because Sasuke would never want to desire anyone or anything until he loves. His love or hatred drives him—"

Ino's frown deepened, her teeth gritted as she bellowed, "I will roast his brain for making you cry even after abandoning you for almost a decade."

Her green eyes searched the sky, and the warmth of the sun caressed her tear-stained cheeks, "It is my fault. I tied him to me. I used him for my own happiness—"

Ino's voice cut through the fragile stillness like the screech of metal on glass, her bluntness grating on Sakura's already frayed nerves. Sakura's eyebrows rose and lips twitched at Ino's crude words, "He used you to get a child—"

She crossed her arms on her chest, glaring at her friend, "He didn't, Ino!"

Ino rubbed her temples, groaning, "How can you defend him?" Hinata sat frozen, her teacup trembling slightly in her hands. The lump in her throat refused to budge, trapping her voice as anxiety coiled tightly around her chest.

Sakura hastily wiped her face with the back of her hand, the smudged trails of mascara only adding to her raw, dishevelled appearance. She sounded torn as she commented, "Just drop this. I was…simply hurt by his lack of love, I can't burden you both with that—"

Ino's eyes flared with unrestrained anger. "He is a bastard!" Ino didn't hold back. Her muscles were tight and her brows knitted.

Sakura grunted. Sakura flinched, her hands balling into fists. "Don't curse him! He loves Sarada. He owns her. Even if it was only…my choice…even if I forced my feelings on him!" Her voice broke as she stammered. Her feelings spilling out from the cracks of her crumbling steel resolve.

Ino spat, "You are compromising!" Ino's voice grew sharper, her anger undeterred.

Hinata wanted to intervene, but her body froze. Her own thoughts were rumbling in her mind, chiding her for the same thing. It felt as if Ino was talking to her as well. Hinata's pulse quickened, her discomfort mounting with every heated word exchanged.

Hinata's head pounded as another lashing from Sasuke nipped at her, her face contorted with guilt. "

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!

His words cut her and made her resolve chip away as well.

"Because he compromised for me. Out of obligation. For our friendship." Repulsed by her own pain, her words tumbled out, her breaths came in shallow gasps, and her lips trembled as she whispered, "I hate this word. I hate how I used it to get him and now I am stuck being an obligation for him." Sakura seethed, Ino and Hinata let her loose, they let her pour her miseries out, "But…he tried. He really did. And despite that, I couldn't capture his heart…I couldn't become his need, his desire…is it my fault?"

Ino chuckled bitterly. She warned, "Clinging onto him despite that is your fault, leave him, Sakura."

Sakura almost shivered on the spot at the mere mention of leaving her husband. The suggestion hit Sakura like a blow. She snapped, "No."

Ino's voice softened, "He will learn his lesson—"

Sakura covered her face with her quivering hands, her voice was muffled as she sobbed, "He won't. It will be his freedom. He hasn't asked this of me till now, because he knows…he knows that by being with me…he is doing his last best to satisfy me—"

Ino tried to reason, "He is hardly with you!"

Sakura's hands slipped from her face, falling limp onto the table as she slumped in defeat. "His name is," she whispered hoarsely. "I'm his wife. Sakura Uchiha. No matter what. That feels enough too."

"This is absolute bullshit!" Ino shook her head.

"Let it go, Ino." Hinata finally managed to speak up. But her voice trembled, her own turmoil bleeding through the words.

Ino jerked her head towards her and her face fell, her words carried whispers of concern for Sakura, "He is hurting her, Hinata. She doesn't get it!"

Sakura defended, "He can't be fake, Ino. He has always been truthful…he is brutally honest with me about our relationship…he ran away because he knew that his indifference would hurt me. He doesn't like hurting her." Her voice cracked, her hands trembling. "But his honest lack of feelings… it does hurt. It breaks me, every single day."

Ino simply couldn't fathom. "This is not how marriage is supposed to look like!" Hinata didn't blame her. Ino had the kind of marriage that seemed untouchable—a husband who never strayed, who met his responsibilities with steadfast determination, whose love never dulled with time. It was easy to judge from the safety of her own unwavering foundation.

Sakura's shoulders sagged, the fight draining from her like water spilling from a cracked vase."I won't deny that. I look at Hinata and Naruto and even you and Sai…and dream about us like that…I wish Sasuke could be as expressive as Naruto—"

Hinata choked on her spit. She was snatched out of a trance by the bruising clutches of a laughable fate.

Sakura continued, her emotions wouldn't cease the torrent on Hinata's faltering state of mind, "Naruto is considerate. He is determined. He tried till the end to love Hinata…why couldn't Sasuke!"

Ino's sharp gaze flicked to Hinata, catching the rapid tapping of her foot against the polished floor, the barely perceptible tremor in her hands, and the flicker of insecurity in her pale lavender eyes. Ino could read her like an open book, and she turned back to Sakura."Sakura, you sound drunk—"

Sakura shook her head, her words continued to rain on Hinata as if she were pelted. "Like in the morning today, after I argued with Sasuke…I went to Naruto and he listened. He understood. I never thought that I'd ever say this but Naruto understands me the most! He reassured me…he told me that I was worth loving which Sasuke never made me feel…" Sakura's face coloured with relief. "He even arranged a dinner tonight at his house with Sasuke and I. He wanted to help us. He made Sasuke yield for me." She looked over at Hinata with a grateful smile, and Hinata simply nodded.

The thought of Naruto delaying his must-attend morning meetings for his best friend was not a surprising notion for Hinata anymore, she simply shrugged and breathed heavily. Her mind reeled, trapped between the laughable irony and the suffocating weight of reality

The way Naruto had sent her a message about hosting Sakura and Sasuke for dinner was a blow she had received early in the morning, now knowing that it was because of how hurt Sakura looked to Naruto…made her ponder on Sasuke's words even more. Why cry over him, Hinata? Why. She shivered. Naruto, who had missed several dinners with his family, wanted a dinner…to cheer up his best friend, Sakura.

Hinata laughed inwardly.

Hinata sat rigid, her spine straight as an iron rod, her muscles taut as if holding her together by sheer force of will. The pain bore down on her but she squared her shoulders, and raised her chin a little as she explained, "Naruto and Uchiha-san are very different individuals, you shouldn't expect them to be shadows of each other."

Sakura wailed, "He should learn to love from his best friend!"

Hinata countered, her eyes blank and empty, the mask she often wore slipped on easily, "Everyone loves differently."

Sakura let out a harsh breath, her frustration held her hostage to absurdity. "And somehow Naruto can master the art but not Sasuke…why!" Her exasperation rendered her almost irrational.

Hinata snickered, the bitterness held her caged. "Men aren't perfect, Sakura. No man ever is."

"You don't think Naruto is perfect?" Sakura choked out, "You both are like a dream!" Her eyes flitted over to Hinata's hand, looking for a ring, Hinata thought. The squeak she let out at the emptiness on Hinata's finger made her heart thrum in her ears.

"No, he is not," Hinata confessed.

Sakura's eyes went wide. She turned to look at Ino who was gaping at Hinata as well. Sakura blinked, her mouth falling open. "That is very unfair of you—"

Hinata remained resolute. "You don't know him like I do. That is why…I am anything but unfair to him."

Ino interjected quickly, her hands reaching out to clasp those of her friends in solidarity. "Alright, let's all take a breath. I'm all for venting about husbands, but people are different—"

Sakura didn't plan to leave the matter alone. "What is your issue with Naruto? Did you both fight? I am sure I can knock some sense into him—" The irony of Sakura knocking sense into Naruto drained the patience out of her.

Hinata gritted, "We don't fight." Her patience, already threadbare, snapped like a brittle twig.

"Isn't that good?" Sakura looked amused. Innocent even.

Her voice dropped, cold and weighted with something raw."We don't fight because he is never there for me to fight with or fight for."

Hinata pushed back her chair abruptly, the scrape of wood against tile startlingly loud. She reached for her cardigan draped over the chair, her movements stiff and deliberate. Bowing her head slightly, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and whispered, "I need to leave. I have to do some grocery shopping for our dinner together." Her eyes darted to Sakura.

Ino's lips parted as if to protest, but Hinata didn't look up. She didn't give her friends the chance to stop her. Her gaze remained firmly on the floor as she walked out of the shop, her footsteps echoing behind her, leaving the charged air simmering there like a brewing storm.

Something fractured within her, bleeding her dry. She sucked in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly to swallow the tears and the sob as she walked towards the grocery store. Her mind was well-prepared to suffer even more at the dinner.

.

.

.

.

Sasuke walked with slow and measured steps beside Sakura. The tension still clung between them, wrapped around them like the iron chain which neither of them could break. However, Sakura tried—desperately—to pierce through them, to soften the edges of the distance between them.

His brows furrowed and jaw tightened as he reflected on the mornings of the last two days; his argument with Sakura left an acidic taste to his tongue and then the bloodied spar session with Naruto, which turned into a lecture about 'treating his wife right'.

His knuckles ached, still remembering the pulse of raw power that had coiled around his hand, lightning crackling with unspent fury, ready to be hurled at the man who called himself his best friend, his Hokage—the same man who had the audacity to lecture him on marriage when his own was a wreck. The hypocrisy burned.

"Teme, why do you always argue with Sakura-chan? She was crying when I visited her for lunch…"

"Sasuke, she has always been there for you, now it is your time to give back…"

"Bastard, stop being difficult. Stop hurting her."

"We are having a double date…dinner, whatever…in my house. Sakura-chan will feel good with all of us together…"

The annoyance sat on his shoulders, weighing him down. The rumbling frustration dug into his bones, setting his nerves on edge.

The intent to flee, to hide, to vanish…it had always been insidious, a silent throbbing at the depth of his chest, where hollowness cradled his desire to be turned into ashes. But…now, it had grown into its truest form; a gigantic shadow and full-fledged claw over his head, making it difficult for him to navigate with all of the changes unfolding in his life he dreaded to live. He needed to escape before the life he was living closed in completely and dragged him under.

He slowly inhaled, the chill of the air biting him, like a sharp knife against the raw skin. The grating disdain refused to abate, it kept on pinching his nerves, he continued to glower at the gravel pathway that led to her—…his best friend's house. Nothing quelled whatever was rattling his core beneath the surface.

"Don't be sour, Sasuke-kun." Sakura reached out to loop her arm around his before they could knock at the door.

Sasuke turned to her, his slanted gaze unsettled her as she looked away. A pang clutched at his heart at the stress lines at the corner of his wife's eyes, the frown on her lips, and the heaviness striking her features…it was all because of him.

He gritted his teeth and said, "I need to breathe, Sakura." In his simple plea, he asked so muchofher. The unrestrained rage teeming in his eyes, the wildfires havocing his chest, and the collapsing storm of thoughts—he held them in just afewwords, hoping they would convey the state of his puzzled existence.

Sasuke flinched and the stiffness of his muscles repelled her, she dragged her arm off him. She hissed, stifling a sad croaky tone, her aches dulled her expression, "Just…don't…don't—"

The door creaked open with a soft but decisive click, a quiet interruption that shattered whatever fragile thread had been forming between them.

A feather-light whisper pulled him out of his reverie for a moment, "Uchiha-san."

The time stilled when the scent hit him first—lilies and lavenders, with a faint sweet smell clinging in the air. The cold air which was gnawing at him, whistling and ringing like a siren in his ears now turned to a gentle humming. The stiffness in his shoulder faltered. His shoulders curled inwards when he turned to face her.

His dark eyes roamed over her as she stood at the door, hands clasped at her front. Her long hair was swiped to the side, her eyes gleamed with shimmery purple, and her knee-length black dress seemed familiar.

The knot in his throat clenched.

His voice felt trapped for a moment.

His mind reeled, replaying the memories from last night; her loneliness in the bar and her detached face, the men and their disgusting eyes on every inch of her, her clumsy steps in her drunkenness, her reddened cheeks and slurry words and lastly, her sobs and needy pleas which drove him mad.

He could become ash, as that was how much the madness was seeping into his veins, ceasing to stop scorching him.

The fracturing of his control was visible and the way her existence put a crack in his, was enervating.

Her muffled sobs had cracked her voice and had wracked her body—it was etched into his brain, scalding him from within. The rage burned brighter. His furious eyes sank into hers as she regarded Sakura with a small smile at the corner of her lips.

They both entered the cursed house. His best friend's chakra was suffocating him as he sauntered inside. He felt like he was on the edge of his ruin.

Sakura laughed, a fluttering giggle, "Boruto finally got themselves a big guy mission. Sarada told me…"

Hinata walked ahead of him, responding to his wife. "Yes, they have been restless for so long."

"Where is Naruto?" Sakura turned to Hinata, her smile stretched wide as she asked. Crimson swept over her cheeks, and her feet bounced on the spot.

Hinata's voice turned strained as she ran a hand along her dark locks, "In the room upstairs—"

Sakura cut her off, wiggling her eyebrows at her with a spark in her stare, "Oh, I will just surprise him…I think we are early—" His wife scurried away as she moved past Hinata, her arm brushing against hers and he could see the quiver that ran up Hinata's body. Sakura glanced at him, squinting her eyes a little as if to seek his approval, but Sasuke's expression schooled into nothing. Sakura bit her lip, a beat of silence later, she rushed upstairs, her heels thumping on the staircase.

The one thing he always despised whenever he was with Hinata…was silence.

Because her existence thrived in silence, her empty facade always slipped off her in silence, her smooth chakra sharpened in silence, her eyes paled in silence—she stood like a dwindling figure in the hallway, under the dangling light hanging over her, casting shadows over the walls that felt like they were closing in on them.

Her back was turned to him, as she stood in silence, contemplating. For sure. He saw her. He knew her. He had watched her for far too long not to recognize the way her stillness pulsed with conflict.

They both were unnaturally still.

He wondered if she remembered the last night. The good and the bad—The way she had shown an amusing side of her or the way her tears had seeped into him, setting his marrow on fire.

He didn't have to wonder for much longer as she spun on the spot, her eyes downcast and her fingers fiddling with each other.

Her incessant pondering needed to end, to yank the threads of silence, to make it crash with a loud blaring ringing.

She needed to speak up.

Because he was furious at her.

Her cries, her soft yet desperate gasps, her hiccups, her trembling body—everything was mapped in his brain from last night, he was inured to her pain and that was mind-boggling. Her wounds scraped his if that made sense, his rage surged when hers died and slipped down her cheeks in a constant stream of tears. His control shattered as she thrashed the walls erected around him.

She began, her voice was low, "I am sorry, Uchiha-san—"

He stepped closer, asking, "Why?"

She gulped. Her gaze lifted, and her tone was soft and wavering as she explained, "I do not remember much from last night, I barely have some flashes of recognizable memories…I have your…cloak…so I believe that you helped me last night—"

He grunted, his eyes sharpening, "Cut to the chase." She flinched under his surveying eyes.

She squared her shoulder, tucked a loose strand behind her ear, and her hand slipped down and rested on her neck as if she soothed the tensed veins, "I must have been a nuisance to you…so I want to apologize."

He didn't need her apology.

He needed …he didn't know what he needed.

Perhaps an apology to herself, for falling into the madness of sexual need and then breaking her heart to the point that she had to wail on his lap.

He snapped, "What do you remember?"

She stammered, she stepped back, "N-Nothing—"

"Truth, Hinata." He paused for a moment and stared deep at her.

She swallowed, "We were talking about N-Naruto—"

He sneered, "You were. Not we." He couldn't restrain his feet because they pushed him towards her, bringing him close to her. Her chakra swam around him, the lingering bewilderment; he could feel it wrapping around him too.

"Um, yes." She sounded winded. "I…I was and you…scolded?" She almost questioned, as if her memory was still like fog in her brain.

He groaned inwardly.

She forgot. It vexed him.

"Yes." His tone was mocking.

Her eyes flew open wide as she juggled with the fragmented pieces of information in her mind, "I am sorry—"

"Apologizing because you got scolded?" he snickered. Boiling fury thudded through his veins. "Pathetic."

She fumbled, her head lowered, "I mean…I…"

He reached out to grasp her chin and angled up, her eyes widened infinitesimally. "You were pathetic. Wallowing about a man who—"

Her spark, which was intrinsic to her, faded. Her mouth pressed into a thin line. "You don't need to spell it out, Uchiha-san." He almost staggered back but instead, his grip on her chin slacked.

Frustration bellowed in his mind. "Really? If you know everything, Hyuga…then why are you still suffering."

She fidgeted in his hold, shuddering. Her words tumbled out, in haste and instinct, "I just wanted to apologize—"

Her soft but firm hand clamped on his wrist and pulled away, her nails digging into his skin. She scrambled backwards, her feet barely holding her upright. He could see the shadow weighing her down like it did him.

She turned on her heels. Averting her gaze. Leaving his existence behind.

He seethed as he stepped back, "Go on, run away. As usual—"

She spat, "What about you?" She abruptly turned, her pale eyes glinting with strained emotions. He gaped at her failing attempts to whip at him, "We are having this dinner to cheer up Sakura-san. If you still make others suffer, why are you staying with them and—"

"I am the problem she doesn't want to solve," Sasuke's head snapped up, and he chuckled, his voice deepened.

She almost wept, her desperation slipping out. "Why are you angry at me then?"

He craned his neck, the nerves bunching at his nape and stressed on him, ached. He grumbled, raking his hand in the tangles of his hair, groaning as he yanked his roots sharply.

"Because why are you crying after—"

She paled. The aches that she had kept coiled at the back of her head were prodded by him, so she defended, "Please, Uchiha-san, some matters are personal—"

Sasuke stormed closer to her. His face was barely an inch away from hers as he curled his hand around her arm and pulled her sharply. Her yelp sounded so meek, so soft. But his words were biting, edged with such sharpness that bruised her insides.

"Then why the fuck did you cry on my lap about it, Hyuga?" Her eyes widened, and the shame of unawareness burned scarlet on her cheeks. Her mouth parted, and her struggle with words was laughable. She couldn't get a single syllable out of her.

Her voice was hoarse. Her defiance gasped its last breath. "I…—"

"You are so fucking blind, Hyuga." He sounded venomous. His infuriation jolted him, the force with which his fingers tightened around her arm felt newborn, she winced as he closed in the space between their faces, his cheek grazed hers when he leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Your blindness annoys me." His hot breath washed over her.

Her gaze flickered as she pressed her shaking palm on his chest, applying force, and she croaked out, "I am not blind. I am a mother—"

He huffed, "Absurd!" The moment when they were both suspended like fuel and fire together intensified, they swayed with the tune of their miseries meeting each other. Her agonies fueled his flames.

"Is that so?" she cocked an eyebrow at him. She looked…peeved.

He narrowed his gaze on her. "What—"

She gasped, her chest bumping against his as she heaved a deep sigh, "Wouldn't you have the same argument?"

"Hm?" His face contorted to a scowl. Hinata's insinuations were going above his head.

She explained and it hit him, "That you are a father." Her gaze hardened, "Isn't that why you are staying too?"

His confession was prickling for her, he could see the indignation flash in her eyes when he blurted, "No."

She shivered, he could see her mind folding on its own, and her chakra dimmed around her. She mumbled, "Then—"

He looked pinched. "You haven't understood me, Hinata."

Her perception of hisselflessnesshad rooted itself deep within him, and he felt strangled by how her notions about him wrapped around his existence like an invasive vine. He knew she saw him as a mere man, but she carried an idealized image of hispain,which choked him.

She did not consider him selfish, she was naive.

Sasuke chose his doom because he was a father, granted, but he stayed in his ruin because he was selfish. He needed to atone, he couldn't breathe if he were not atoning. His need to atone kept him tethered to the life he couldn't stand to live. So, he stayed. Stagnant. Rooted in the wreckage of his own making, his own bonds, his own marriage. It was another form of penance, another way to bleed for the monster he had been—for the beast he still was and could not slaughter.

"I do—" she felt taken back. Looked visibly eroded.

He shook his head. "But I understand you. Despite the reasons, I still believe…that you are pathetically blind, unable to see your impending destruction—" His wrath doubled down, and then he glanced over her parted mouth. It reminded him of the night on her balcony—his crimson eyes catching the intimacy which she relished with her husband and how she was on the verge of surrendering to the pleasure, the heat that charged the air that night…the primal need that slithered through her veins at that moment…he had seen everything and now the memory of it, was chipping away at his sanity.

He needed to ask her…why.

He had no right, but he was on the verge of breakdown…he felt he needed her to look at him, without her empty and indifferent mask, and tell him… why did she give in to the glamour of sensuality. It gnawed at his conscience.

And the way she had given in to the pleasure…it evoked a flame within him—A flame licked at the edges of his composure, fury smouldering beneath his skin.

She was blind—blindto the spell of locked lips, sensual touches, and heated dedication and devotion went hand in hand with her agonies and servitude. She was blind to all of that.

"We are all fractured, Uchiha-san. It is not right to point fingers!" Her mouth thinned as she concluded. The way her mask slipped back on her face, strangled any following retorts in his throat.

Her face was blanched, her eyes were half-lidded and her jaw was set. Something like triumph showed in her gaze but it felt empty…joyless.

She looked like the Hinata Konoha was accustomed to.

But he wasn't Konoha.

He wasn't Naruto.

He was Uchiha-san for her.

And for her to retreat behind her mask now, when he knew—knew—she longed to be seen, to be free, sent a razor-sharp jolt of resentment through him. He regretted that she caged herself, in front of him as well.

He detested that look spread over her features, directed at him. As if he was a nobody. A stranger.

His pride took a fall. The blood drained from his face. His hollowed chest felt the void sinking in within him.

He was not a fucking random nobody for her.

Then why the hell did she dare to challenge him with unfamiliarity?

Before he could protest, she squirmed out of his space and then rushed back to the kitchen or wherever she wanted to hide herself from him. He twitched, his nostrils flared, brewing frustration keened inside of him. His gaze was unmoving from her retreating figure which vanished as she succeeded in concealing herself from him, but his eyes remained stuck there, at the end of the hallway.

Fuck.

He ruined everything.

The one friend he made. The one who saw him as a mere man…he pushed her away. A sharp ache lanced through him, agonizing him for yet another fuck up that he did to himself.

He fucked it up. Real bad.

He regretted dwelling in his anger and scraping her miseries to feed his fury.

He could have shown her every harmless bit they shared last night, which could have dampened his anger at her blind devotion towards Naruto.

He could have let the memory of her hands sliding up his neck, healing the marks, linger in her head too…he could have teased her about the petty arguments she was making up against him…but no!

His mind, a marred mind, wanted to consume him, so it picked the flashing red to ruin him.

He couldn't shake the image of her and Naruto entangled in an intimate embrace with nothing but desperate sexual desires simmering between them. It smothered him with poison.

He could not stop musing about the way her tears rolled off her face, dripping into his lap when she broke down.

So he fucked up. In anger.

But what could he do?… Women…deserving women who willingly destroyed themselves after a failed man… always annoyed him.

Sakura.

And now…Hinata.

Why couldn't they just let it go?

"I am not blind, I am a mother…"

Her voice…her damn voice…her light, airy voice…her sob-struck voice…her strained voice…was all he could hear in his head like a sacred temple bell.

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The dinner table was alive with conversation…mainly done by his wife and best friend. Sasuke sat ramrod in the chair, clutching his spoon tightly, his eyes staring deeply as the napkin thrown on his lap. His mind was fogged by the verbal spat with Hinata, which he shouldn't have done as his veins were throbbing with ache at the mere thought of Hinata's indifferent look at him at the end of their argument.

Unseen yet palpable tension coiled around him and her, as they sat opposite each other, avoiding looking at each other. Beneath the surface, the heat lapped at his insides, condemning him for the way Hinata sat with her gaze lowered, tracing the rim of the plate with the tip of her spoon and breathing unevenly.

Sakura's voice rang out, light and easy, as if all the emotional turmoil she had been carrying for the past few days was thrown off her shoulders the moment she laughed at one of the many absurd jokes of Naruto.

"But those dangos are good!" She hummed, tapping the back of Naruto's hand with her fork. "You were being a hater for no reason!"

"Not at all, Sakura-chan! Food aside, the place was weird!" Naruto shook his head and huffed. "People were approaching you—"

Sakura shoved a mouthful of meat and rice and spoke to Naruto, waving her fork in the air, "Travellers who are staying for a night at Konoha eat out there, it is expected of those people to not know me and approach—"

Naruto leaned forward, grabbing her fork and snatching it, "I am the Hokage, I was sitting beside you!" Naruto rolled his eyes, "You were wearing your Uchiha crest shirt as well—"

Her eyes darkened, "Thanks to your best friend's absence…people consider us separated." The tinge of humour in her tone dropped. The bitterness coating her words was loud. Her words settled into his bones…like ice.

He was getting blamed for not staying, forgetting that he never asked to be the one who needed to stay in the first place.

Sasuke attempted to suppress his frustration, stirring on his spot, keeping his mouth shut. His lips twitched.

Hinata let the air hiss through her teeth loudly. She dropped her spoon on her empty plate, the clink echoed in the room. She lifted her gaze, expertly avoiding meeting his, and turned to cast a stern look at the man beside her—her husband who looked baffled at the jab Sakura threw at him.

Naruto scoffed, breaking the sickening tension hanging in the air, "I'd punch those men the next time…even though, we should go somewhere else, that place sucked—"

Sakura whined, clicking her tongue, "It is the best shop for Dango…I forgot the name—"

"Aki Dango." Hinata's low voice grated on Sasuke's nerves. He detested the trace of concealed annoyance in her tone. He loathed how her breath hitched with each word shared between Naruto and Sakura. He abhorred the way she let herself get affected by the gleam of Naruto's stare at anything Sakura was speaking as if she spilt pearls instead of words.

"Yes! See…even Hinata loves that!" Sakura beamed, smiling widely at Hinata, who simply bit her lips and nodded.

"Men there are disgusting…"

"I don't need your protection there, Naruto. My fists are enough. I dragged you there for company…" Sakura snorted, cleaning the remaining of the rice from her plate. "Hinata, do you still go there? They added a Sake bar recently there and it is worthwhile!"

"I do." Hinata shrugged.

Sakura laughed, rice grains clinging to the corner of her lip and Naruto's hand almost stirred and lifted to wipe that away, Sasuke could read the urge quite well when his best friend's eyes dropped from his wife's eyes to her lips. But Sakura wiped her lips from the back of her hand, asking, "Why don't you force his ass too?"

Hinata gritted her teeth, and the mask, the one he couldn't hate more, slipped on in an instant. Her tone was curt as she spat, "I don't think I should be forcing my husband for any bare minimum."

Naruto shifted uncomfortably on his seat, his jaw tense, the humour slipped off his face as he turned his head towards Hinata, with a small forced smile tugging on his lips. He let out a low and guttural laugh, which sounded as if he was mocking himself, "Ahh, you are right, Hinata-chan…I will go with you…"

Hinata tore her gaze from him, silencing her string of curt responses. A beat of silence stretched and echoed.

Sasuke flinched—being the observer of all that was unveiled before him, made his mind race. The impenetrable Sasuke Uchiha was wary of the situation that pushed him to crumble. Normally, the voice inside him could have chosen to stay bland and ignorant, but that moment was heavy and required wariness.

His irritated gaze settled on Naruto who fumbled and then managed to shift the conversation, "Ha! Aren't you scared someone will whisk away Sakura-chan from under your nose, Teme!" His eyes, almost looked hollow, when they glanced over at Sasuke, as if pleading to pull him out of his miserable loop, "I mean…people were admiring here and there when we went out to eat at Aki Dango…those were people from other villages." He rubbed the back of his neck as he let out a chuckle with a lazy wiggle of his eyebrows.

A wild fury surged in his chest at the attention of the entire table on him, except hers, she was fiddling with her fingers with her eyes trained on her lap.

Sasuke's eyes sank on her unheeding frame as he answered Naruto, which caused another electrifying string to charge the air. "Sakura has been smitten with me since she was eight, I have come close to killing her, but she still has not stopped her devotion towards me…I doubt another man can shift that kind of devotion, until and unless she wants to—"

Hinata's eyes shot up, finally meeting his which were already burning holes in her. The surprise, the disappointment, the befuddlement—everything was bare in those empty eyes.

Naruto let out an animalistic squeak.

Sakura's fist clenched the table mat and fury reddened her face.

Naruto's voice raised, "Bastard, why the hell are you bringing that up? You hurt her again…aren't we here to leave the bitterness behind."

Sakura interrupted, her tone mocking and sharp but the way she complained to Naruto, her voice fell and a sob threatened to lodge in her throat, "He diminishes my love as mere childhood infatuation and blind devotion always, Naruto. No point arguing…"

Sasuke's brain was juggling between blurring lines. His focus zeroed on the woman sitting opposite him. She flicked her gaze over everyone andhim,a biting edge glossing over her glare at him.

Naruto leaned forward, catching Sakura's trembling frame by her wrist and reassured, "Don't take his words to heart, he is a fucking bastard!" Sasuke turned to assess the situation churning even more, the darkness and the solemn crackled, mirroring the tempest from his within. Can Sakura finally see him for who he truly is for her? He wondered.

Yet again, the thought whipped at him…about how Women…Good women…who ran after useless men…infuriated him. And he was in the company of two women like that.

Sakura's hold on the table mat caused the fabric to tear apart, just like how her heart was tearing apart and Sasuke was only looking at the wreckage, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to mend. Another fraying thread of their relationship snapped, now only a few threads tethered the marriage that was fated to a doom, She looked up at Naruto's worried and furious eyes, "He doesn't see beyond my childhood infatuation—"

Naruto's voice boomed, and the relentless need to soothe Sakura flared, "There is nothing wrong with childhood love!" Sasuke noticed the way Sakura's shoulders slumped, the rigid tension in the knots of her muscles eased at the dominating assurance from Naruto. She swallowed and blinked at the tears forming. Naruto's crimson anger subsided when Sakura's breathing evened out. The electrifying blue of his eyes darted towards him, and Sasuke noticed the subtle deploration in them. Naruto spoke up, squeezing Sakura's hand, "Even Hinata-chan loved me since childhood. I don't mind that at all!"

And with that…Sasuke snickered.

Naruto…was a joke, even a bigger joke than he himself was.

He wondered if Hinata could finally see that…or still not. His chest scorched with the tightening feeling wracking his body.

Hinata gasped. Sasuke's eyes shot up to meet hers. She clenched her teeth, closing her eyes shut, the inquisitive wonder of his eyes caused her body to tremble when her eyes fluttered open to lock with his.

The way the situation pivoted, caused a rumbling sensation to crawl up her spine.

Her face blanched.

She heaved a sigh.

His tongue didn't waver, "Really…Hinata-chan?" His smirk felt sour as it hung on the corner of his lips. The quiet timbre of his voice stirred something deep within her, her eyes flashed and her bottom lip quivered. His sanity couldn't prevail, his self-destructive tendencies struck as he clenched his fist, his nail bruising the inside of his palm as if to mirror the pain that flashed across her features with the way he taunted.

With surprise cracking her empty and indifferent mask, her voice broke, "Y-Yes."

"Even with the all-seeing eyes?" His heart beat wildly in his chest, and the thrill of throwing his ultimate blow in a battle somehow resurfaced.

Hinata is not your opponent.

His mind chided him.

But was he Sasuke Uchiha if he had listened to his brain?

Stop hurting her.

She said as an ineffable emotion passed behind her eyes, "Yes."

Drunken in his need to make her feel something similar to what he had been juggling within him, his mockery towards her naive hope roared, "No wonder your Byakugan was considered weak."

Sakura bellowed, scandalized, "Sasuke-kun!"

"Sasuke!" Naruto groaned. Anger seethed beneath his surface.

Hinata gulped. Swallowed the bitter tang of his words.

The weight on his chest finally lifted when he struck her like she had wounded him when she fell under her husband's spell that night and stained his lap with her precious tears over a man like Naruto last night.

He punished her.

And it dawned upon him, that he fucked up…again.

Her mask did slip, but the mortification shone naked on her features. The ache of his blatant cruelty slammed onto her either after an eternity or a second later.

Her eyes welled up. Oh.

Fuck.

No.

Don't cry.

His mouth twisted, and his smirk dissolved into a frown. His victory hurt like the ultimate loss.

The cost of his victory quieted his thoughts.

Hinata rose from her chair, the grating noise of wood scraping against the floor made Sasuke wince. In her haste, her elbow struck a glass, sending it clattering to the ground, shattering into glimmering shards.

She ducked, crouching on the floor, picking up the fallen shards of glass. The silence in the hall nipped at him. He felt shackled to his chair, unable to salvage anything. Something cold and ugly settled in his stomach, curling into his ribs like an iron vice.

The words caught in his throat, choking him.

The unsaid fury, the unexpressed apology and the untreated agony—everything bellowed in the air at that moment which seemed to pulse like a throbbing bruise; purple and tender.

And in that silence, Sasuke realised that the death he was chasing madly somehow crept over him, even if he was alive.

He dreaded the hollowness.

The feeling of death.

Then the trance shattered when…she hissed.

His dark and assessing eyes drifted over her crouched frame; she held her palm gently, and the streak of red slid down her palm to her wrist as a shard pierced her skin, stinging her—his insides roiled.

Without any thought, he slid off his chair and knelt on the floor, seizing her wrist. His fingers twitched with the urge to map out the stains of blood on her wrist. Her pulse sped up under his warm but calloused touch.

Naruto's voice blurred in the background, "Hinata—"

They remained suspended in the shattering silence.

He could hear his heartbeats in his ear.

Her scent was everywhere. On his fingertips. On the strand of his hair. On the speck of dust clinging to his cloak.

Her breath hitched.

Her glassy eyes finally dared to face him. And for a moment, her eyes touched him.

And he gulped, swallowing the bitterness of her indifference yet again.

His face contorted with concern.

Her face, however, was blank, carrying no anger, no resentment…just nothing…but a void. He hated that. Her eyes felt distant, as if they peered through him, not at him.

He wanted to grab her by the chin—as he always did— tilt her face up, pull her closer and dare her to look at him like that again.

But he didn't scare her. He could feel that she pretended to treat him as if his words stung but didn't leave a mark on her. That was a nasty blow at him.

"Hinata—" he breathed.

Her voice cut through him, the words slipping past her lips made him shudder, "My Byakugan used to be weak…but I surely possess some medical expertise to heal myself and others." She yanked her hand from his grip. Something thick rippled beneath the surface of his unaffected exterior, causing havoc inside him.

She rose to her feet. His eyes were downcast. His mind was unable to process the severity of the blow from her.

A drop of her blood fell on the floor beside his shoe. Crimson and metallic.

Fuck you, Sasuke. He cursed himself. He stilled under the oppressing and fracturing silence which clawed at his brain, ripped through his chest and devastated his soul.

He needed time.

He needed to stay away from Konoha for some time.

He needed to run away from her, to get rid of her from his mind.

He was being irrational with her, about her, for her…and he needed to find his sanity somewhere far away from her.

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(End of first Arc) - BE READY FOR THE SECOND ARC!

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A/N:

Keep commenting as that makes me want to give you the best updates possible.

How was the end of this arc? Did the bonds get fractured or not hehe?

I LOVED WRITING THIS ARC. Truly! I loved exploring all four of them. The next arc is going to focus solely on SasuHina.

Guess the name of the second arc...whoever is the closest...might get a surprise snippet from me...

Hint: It is a two-word title, mentioned in the chapter 13: Nights.

BTW I AM THINKING OF A NEW SASUHINA FIC, ANBU THEMED? WHAT DO YOU THINK...?