The unmarred heavens are gently congruent with the pace of Konoha's peaceful surroundings. Mid Spring brings an array of blooming flowers that colours the village with boundless displays of brightness.
But the perfection of such spectacle does not resonate with the undulated emotions of one person.
When Honoka steps from the alleyway, Shisui passes in a spur of coldness. As if they are strangers with memories, they simultaneously stall.
Shisui is gazing at her with mild interest, but not before sweeping his watch at the building behind. Honoka sees past this. Her social understanding of awkward situations does not exist in her world.
"Shisui, how do you do?" She asks airily.
Her robotic voice unsettles the air, a mismatch of the beautiful night display.
"Honoka…" he says slowly, and he averts his gaze to the ground, as if unable to look at her.
They remain silent. The tension is far from fading before Shisui speaks again.
"What are you doing out here so uh late?"
He finally looks to her with that very forced smile.
Honoka learnt that it is a cue of reassurance meant to cover discomfort. But she does not know where his unease originates from.
"I am walking to the hospital laboratory," she replies honestly.
When she attempts to close the distance between them, he automatically steps back with tentativeness.
"I see."
Her answer does not satisfy the disconcertment he displays.
"I won't keep you then," he continues quickly, "goodnight."
"Shisui-"
He disappears before her sentence is complete. And though her mind in unable to process the rising level of abashment, her emotions spell a different story. It brings her conscious back to their game of chess several nights ago. Her brazen moves were perhaps a source of harrowing sadness she could not detach from.
She had overstepped her boundaries. The proximity was too close when she reached for his face. But he stopped her at the last second with a perturbed frown etched across his features.
"Honoka, what are you doing?" He asked.
She could not provide a reasonable answer. She was simply following those newly spawned feelings. And when his hand halted her movement, she relished in the strangeness of his touch.
"I am trying to alleviate the pain in my chest," she answered lightly.
And when she decided to place his hand against her chest as demonstration, he suddenly pulled from her grasp. Perhaps it was the shock, which she may have attributed that to the unreadable expression across his face, but his words were different to what she had thought.
"Sorry Honoka, let's call it a night," he said firmly.
"We have not completed our game. We cannot just leave it halfway-"
"Sorry Honoka, I have to insist. I'm quite tired and I do have an early mission tomorrow."
She had left confused. He had never stopped in the middle of a game before, no matter the situation.
By the deserted streets, she recalls the turmoil of that night. The parallels in emotions between then and tonight is indistinguishable. A part of her senses she is missing something, be it the lack of social understanding or whether she has done something inappropriate as a result of her ignorance.
For the next hour, she sits in a swirl of her own muse. Her feet does not take her to the hospital laboratory, rather to the park bench she sat earlier today. Her mind sits vacant and numb, yet the spiral of emotions exaggerate to no end. It sparks as a result of their conversation, and the constant reminder that Shisui is drifting further and further away from her.
But what gnaws at the pain is that someone, Nanami, is able to understand and draw that level of comfort and security from him. It rests in the animation, and the smile he gives, and the more she sees it, the more resentment she feels.
"Honoka?"
Her name echoes in the deep recess of her mind, as if the sound is searching and waiting for her. Shisui is the only person who ever calls her name, and aside from Lord Danzo who only contacts her at the laboratory, her hopeful mind is already tuned into reality.
But instead of Shisui, she sees a familiar person - Izumi.
"Hello Izumi, how do you do?" She says automatically.
Izumi shifts uncomfortably before she speaks.
"Nice night is it not?" She says casually.
Honoka nods.
"Can I sit here?" She asks.
"It is a two seater seat, and there is only one person seated, so I do believe you can," Honoka answers pragmatically.
"What are you doing out here so late?"
"I…I…"
It is the first time she cannot provide a proper explanation for being in a certain place. In all her life, she has never skipped work, nor refused an order.
Izumi peers closely, then returns her gaze to the sparkly velvet canvas.
"Is something troubling you?"
"I am taking a walk and I am now resting," Honoka replies.
There are elements of truth and she is not lying.
"Hm."
Honoka averts to the ground in reflection. She has never had anyone sit beside her and ask questions like this before. But something about Izumi's presence is comforting. She radiates an aura of security that comes with the entitlement of strong bonds. And though Honoka may not know what strong bonds entail, she has read about it.
She likens it to her relationship with Shisui. He brings a source of enigmatic tranquility to her world, a feeling that intertwines trust and comfort. Yet despite spending time with Shisui, she still knows nothing about him.
"Izumi, may I ask you a question?"
The polite tone is always an indicator that Honoka is unsure of her questions and its level of appropriateness.
"Go ahead," Izumi answers.
"Is your friend Nanami friends with Shisui?"
"Mm…I suppose they are."
"I see, thank you for answering my question."
There is a brief silence, then Izumi speaks.
"Why do you ask about Nanami and Shisui?"
When asking questions, Honoka would have a reason, or at least an idea that would facilitate her understanding of something. But this time, she is uncertain. Perhaps Izumi can assist her with these newly spawned feelings?
"E-Every time I see them together, I do not feel at ease," she breathes, "I am unsure."
Izumi is watching unwaveringly.
"Why them specifically?"
"I-I do not know. I feel they are good friends and I don't-"
She stops mid-sentence. A surge of pain tightens that same place across her chest. The physical discomfort syncs with the images of Shisui and Nanami together.
"Honoka, does it hurt you when you see them together?"
And without needing to think through an answer, she shuts her eyes tight and nods.
"Y-Yes, it hurts…r-right here…"
She clutches at her chest, a rather futile attempt to quell the physical anguish.
"I do not know what it is and I do not know how to make it go away, so I t-tried everything I could think of, but I t-think I made things worse with Shisui."
Her hand is warm on her shoulder. There is a realisation that Izumi is reinforcing her security in the form of physical touch. She allows the seconds to past before she speaks mellowly.
"Honoka, do you love Shisui?"
The question is simple, but the profound impact startles her.
"It is not. I read that love is a feeling of enjoyment, happiness and pleasure. The definition is inaccurate with the state I am feeling."
"But when love is taken away from you, you feel the opposite effect."
The comment is distant. She cannot match the negative feelings to the definition. But it seems Izumi is closer to the truth than she would ever hope to be.
"I read there are many different types of love. How do I know which is the one I am feeling?" Honoka asks.
"If you love someone that way you would normally think of them all the time, and you are always hoping to see them and talk to them and touch them and embrace them and just be around them. You just feel attracted to them," Izumi says.
"I do feel all that you said," Honoka agrees, but a different matter weighs heavy against her, "What do people do then, to alleviate the pain?"
Izumi does not immediately speak, as if she is contemplating on how best to respond to Honoka's question.
"Usually people would confess in the hopes the other person would reciprocate."
"I see, then if I do that, the pain would go away."
Izumi looks troubled.
"Honoka, what will you do if I told you Shisui and Nanami are dating?"
"You mean they have been on a date?"
Izumi looks to her with a strong component of regret.
"I-I am unsure," Honoka continues truthfully.
Perhaps the pain would be too unimaginable for a precise answer, but already, Honoka senses an escalating level of hurt and agony. She does not foresee things in future and how she may react to situations. For her, it is easier to focus on the here and now.
x
Izumi has her Council's Mission with Itachi that evening, and when she disappears for the village gates, Honoka takes an unusually longer route home.
Her thoughts intrude her conscious. The content circulates unsystematically in a jumble of agonising imageries. And only when she sees him sitting alone by an empty park do the thoughts congregate and seep out like black ink. It shows the pain and emptiness that is her muse, and the vacantness of her mind that disappears into the darkened skies.
"Excuse me, Shisui but may I sit here next to you?" She asks politely.
But she is shaking as she speaks, another sign of the newly spawned feelings she finds hard to adjust.
"Honoka," he blinks surprisingly.
When he nods in acknowledgement, she takes a seat and keeps quiet.
Shisui does not seem unsettled by the silence, and when Honoka decides to speak, she finds he may have retreated into the secure recess of his own reverie.
"Shisui, may I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead," he answers without looking at her.
"How do you know if you love someone?"
He finally turns to her with a peculiar look of speculation reflected in his features.
"You would always want to protect the one you love," he replies pensively. He leans forward and gazes up at the celestial body, perhaps speaking more to himself than answering Honoka's question.
"I have been told if you love someone, you should confess and tell them."
He shrugs insouciantly.
"That too I guess," he says indifferently.
"I see. If that is the case, I love you Shisui."
It may have come across disconnected, considering Shisui's excruciatingly slow response. But he stares at her for a long time, his expression intrigued yet somewhat impassive.
"I read somewhere that the next step is to go on a date," Honoka continues as if they are having a normal, casual conversation.
He inhales deeply, uneasily.
"I'm sorry Honoka, I've already agreed to that with someone else," he answers softly.
But Honoka does not understand, nor can she process the fluctuating emotions that are occurring between them since her arrival.
"That is okay, there are plenty of other days."
"Sorry, Honoka, it doesn't work like that."
She watches him closely.
"Do you have an alternative?"
"There won't be an alternative."
"I do not understand. We already have our scheduled fortnightly catch ups. Can we not use that time as a date-"
"Honoka," he interrupts firmly, "lets leave it at that."
He stands, a clear indicator that the conversation is to end.
Though her conscious questions the sudden turn of events, a part of her that has everything to do with those newly spawned emotions, is sending a host of signals that signifies rejection.
"If you are not going to offer an alternative, then please get out of my head," she says firmly.
Her voice trembles, a perfect sync with the tempestuous emotions that plagues her insides. At this point, she does not know what to do, or how to feel. Still, the reaction is foreign and perhaps it is not Shisui or his words that she is afraid of, but the emotions that accompanies his presence.
Even as she sits there with false composure, she can still sense the lingering existence of other agonising feelings. It leaks from the corners of her eyes and temporarily coats the coolness of her cheeks. This is her first time experiencing such physical sensations.
Shisui does not refute her comment, nor does he provide any comfort to her dilemma. In usual circumstances, Shisui would always be the first person to answer any social conundrums. Yet in this very situation where an answer proves pivotal, he does not speak.
"Can you please at least tell me how to do that? I do not want to continue feeling this foreign pain I am unaccustomed to," she says ruefully.
"I don't know how to do that," Shisui replies.
His tone is quiet, an element of resignation.
At his comment, the pain consumes her in a blur of black and white.
When he politely dismisses himself, she watches as the colourful buildings, the hills and valleys, and the blooming flowers that reflects brightly under the moon's ray, turn an inky monotone.
With each step, he furthers from her, and with each section he passes, the colours drain in a swirl of rainbows, leaving that same inky monotone behind.