(SECOND ARC: FLICKERING FLAMES)
CHAPTER 16: THEIR DOOM BEGINS
After a week, Konoha's heat felt welcoming—as welcoming as it could be compared to the blaring heat still simmering under Sasuke's skin. The wind rustled the flare of his cloak. His hand clutched a couple of bags tightly, and with a stern look drawn over him, he walked beside his daughter, who skipped ahead of him.
Her keen eyes roamed over Kazekage's handwritten manual, which she always raved about. Each word of his advice was absorbed in her crimson eyes.
"I'm so shocked that you got me this, Papa." She turned around, and adjusted her glasses that had slipped down to the bridge of her nose, "Kazekage is an important figure of history…also Lord Seventh's friend…"
Sasuke's chest tightened. His daughter had such a starry-eyed look regarding the two men she idolized. He wondered if her admiration extended to him as well. His eyes caught the twitch on Sarada's face, contorting her beaming expression to a reeling one.
He cleared his mind before her daughter fell into the madness of overthinking, "No problem. You will one day lead a village, it's important to learn from successful people."
The stars shone again in his daughter's eyes. "Yes, Papa. And I'll always have you, too, to guide me." Her daughter was perceptive. A small upturn of her lips from the corner resembled the curve of victory he often seemed to have when he deciphered the world around him.
She mirrored him.
Sasuke shuddered at the thought.
Heaving a deep sigh, he began to move ahead, his steps hurried.
"Who are those for?" Sarada held the manual close to her chest and raised her eyebrows at the two bags dangling in his grip.
Sasuke didn't break the stride. He simply shrugged, "A friend."
Sarada didn't question further. Like him, her daughter was curious but only about the things that mattered to her. He felt the relief settling in the pit of his stomach. Without prying any further, Sarada waved, saying, "I promised Mitsuki that I'd meet them at the grill, gotta go, Papa."
"Be safe," he mumbled, she snorted and ran towards the throng of people, zig-zagging her stride to reach the thinning part of the crowd. With her vanished from his sight, his feet pressed harder on the ground and he pulled the bags tightly in his grip, changing the direction.
With a quiet walk in the bustling streets, his destination took about half an hour to arrive before him. A familiar door, which he had shut behind him with a harsh push a week ago, left fragments of chaos inside the house.
As he rapped on the door, the clenching of his chest grew.
After a beat of silence and the passage of a few disorienting minutes, the door swung open, revealing his friend—Hinata.
Her sleep-dazed eyes widened. Her fingers curled around the doorframe as she pulled the door wide open, her latching grip on the doorframe tethered her to stand upright. Because she looked distraught and tired. Her eyes were puffy, the darkness shadowed beneath them, her hair was loosely tied into a bun and a few straying strands slipped from it, unruliness sparked strangeness in her look. Her button-down silk shirt seemed askew, with a few of her buttons undone, giving a peek into the silvery pale flesh sparkling underneath.
His eyes averted, dropping down to the silk shorts drawn over her legs, covering…barely grazing over her mid-thigh. Before his stare could linger onto the lengths of pale smoothness, he snapped his head up and peered at the worn expression dulling the brightness of her face.
Hinata shivered and sank, her shoulders curled inwards, slumping her posture as she dipped her head and raked her eyes over herself. The faint hue of scarlet bubbled on her cheeks. She weaved her hands together in front of her and squeezed her hands, to ease the charged tension. To no avail, as she bowed, "Uchiha-san," her voice wasn't a greeting, she carried an apologetic tone.
Why are you apologising, sacrificial lamb?!
Before he could voice out the frustration rumbling inside him, the tempest that had caused a frenzied verbal spat between them a week ago replayed in his mind. The weight of his apology in his hand felt heavier.
Keep your mouth shut, Sasuke!
He obeyed himself.
He asked, averting his gaze to the light dangling above him, "You look…busy…should I come later?"
She hastily stepped back, "N-No…come in, please."
He stepped inside. The door shut with a faint thud behind him. In the stillness of her home, in the quiet of their moment, he stood frozen on the spot.
She grabbed the cardigan off the back of the chair and threw it on herself, "Hima is sick, I'm just…busy with her."
"What happened?" he broke his silence as he asked. His eyes met hers, the pale pearls looked as if they hadn't seen the burst of a slumber for nights. She meekly followed him to the hallway towards her living room, her slow yet deliberate steps mirroring his, the sound thumping in the echoing silence.
She responded, lowering her gaze, "Fever. Flu. She doesn't like medicines or hospital visits much, so I am treating her myself…also Hyuga herbs…so slowly and gradually she is getting better…"
Sasuke halted his steps towards her living room and turned around to face her, "You take care of her. I was here to drop these off." He leaned forward, ducking a bit to grab her hand, pulling it away from her clenched grip. He threaded the string of the handbags on her fingers. She lifted her face, the worry mixed with surprise glinted in her pale eyes.
Her hand trembled in his grip, he could feel the lightness of her hand on his, she surveyed the bag as she tugged on the handbag, asking, "Uchiha-san…what is—"
His hand slipped away from hers, and he pulled his hand back, grumbling, "Just take it, Hyuga." Her mouth parted, and before any further queries could tumble out, he pressed his finger on her lips, he could hear the yelp under her breath and the way her step faltered and she scurried a step back, wide-eyed and face blanched.
Sasuke could feel the sanity coming back to him, he immediately fisted his hand and let it hang on his side. In the moment he wished he had another hand too, to hold his betraying hand back. The knotted heaviness pulling on his chest began to throb, and his throat began to feel dry and prickling.
With a pressing weight simmering within him, he let the shadows of insanity hover over him, clinging to him but not yet consuming him—then he strode towards the door, he couldn't comprehend if the meek voice calling for him belonged to her or his imagination of her. But instead of drowning in the lingering tension crawling up his neck, spiralling around his chest and brewing in the pit of his stomach…he chose to run away from the stifling silence confining him to the walls of her house.
And that time, the way the door shut behind him carried a dragging creaking low sound, as if the door was taking its sweet time to close…as if his fate kept the space open for him to run back and continue whatever he was leaving behind. The shut of the door felt melodious, an enthralling noise that affected him like a siren could.
.
.
.
The evening draped itself in quiet serenity as Hinata sank into the sofa, her fingers wrapped around a delicate porcelain cup of tea. The warmth seeped into her palms, a quiet contrast to the exhaustion weighing down her limbs. For five relentless days, she had run herself ragged tending to Himawari's fever, watching over her daughter with unwavering vigilance.
But tonight—finally—Himawari had fallen into a restful sleep, her small frame no longer trembling with illness, her cheeks no longer pallid. She had even managed to drink her soup, a trace of colour returning to her face. Relief settled into Hinata's bones, spreading through her like a tide retreating after a storm.
She exhaled slowly, leaning her head back against the cushions, setting her cup aside with a muted clink. The tension at the nape of her neck throbbed, crackling. She winced, rolling her shoulders in a futile attempt to ease the ache. But the weariness she carried was more than physical—it was woven into her very thoughts, tangled in the endless cycle of sleepless nights and restless worries.
And yet, something else lingered beneath the exhaustion.
A shift.
Her encounter with Sasuke a week ago had left her shaken, and disoriented in ways she couldn't fully articulate. His words, his actions…they had soured her mood, festered within her like a wound she couldn't get rid of. He had tested her fraying composure and dented her crumbling self-esteem.
He had severed the thread of friendship they shared.
She wasn't sure anymore if he had or hadn't. Because he came back.
His unexpected arrival at her door in the morning bearing gifts. She lifted her head, her eyes darting towards the table having two bags.
Hinata felt the twitch coursing through her fingers. The urge to peek into the bags burned brighter. Was he apologizing like this? She snorted at her own thoughts. Sasuke Uchiha…apologizing? Stupid. Hinata rambled in her mind, swatting her hand in the air as if dismissing a fly, with a huffing snicker.
"What did he get me?" she mumbled to herself. Unknowingly, a smile spilling on her lips. The anger, the tension and the sourness from last week melted away. All that remained was how he knocked on her door, looking tense as ever, and how the panic settled over him, propelling him to bolt out of her house.
She could feel the lingering roughness of his finger on her lips. Intoxication swirled up within her, dazing her mind.
She licked her lips instinctively.
Hinata began to feel the heartbeats picking up a pace. She exhaled a deep sigh.
The scent of pine mixed with sand was clinging to him, Hinata could distinctly remember how specks of sand had threaded themselves with his dark hair strands, glinting like gold on him.
Her thoughts ran wild…her mind began to reel, berating her for forgetting the way Sasuke had targeted her. The way he had scraped her wounds, overwhelming her with his probing cruelty.
But he is Uchiha-san…
She defended.
The bubbling anger she had felt deep within him had flickered out of existence due to the mere attempt of gifting from her friend's end. Pathetic. Hinata's voice from inside mocked her. Pathetic, that is what he called you. Hinata squeezed her eyes shut, her weighing thoughts attempted to rob her of the spark that blossomed in her chest at the sight of those gifts.
"Just take it, Hyuga." He had said that, with that specific shade of red dusting his cheeks, Hinata couldn't sense any malice in his energy. His chakra thrummed the air in her house, and the air of her residence lapped at the strings of his chakra weaving through the wisps of air floating around…as if they were missing him.
Perhaps not only the air of her house.
The bewilderment at his actions couldn't eclipse the excitement brewing at the depths of her heart.
Her finger was tracing lazy circles on the flesh of her thigh, she was fidgeting in her spot. The consuming need to feel valued throbbed in her veins, her eyes remained stuck on those beige-coloured bags. Her breath hitched. Suddenly, a warmth tingled within her, deep down, as if reminding her of something…of someone.
A knock at her door paused her thoughts.
She stiffened, thinking that perhaps he returned…she caught the time. Dinner wasn't quite due at that hour, but he was habitual of waiting around at times while she worked in the kitchen. She rose from the sofa and rushed to the door, pulling the door and finding a sinking and stressful feeling flowing into her as the dark eyes she sought were pale.
"Hello, sister!" Hanabi beamed.
The sullen expression immediately slipped off her face before her sister could dissect her. Hinata's fogginess in her brain and numbness in her heart began to clear when her sister lunged towards her, engulfing her in an iron-clad embrace.
"Hanabi!" she exhaled, pulling away from the hug.
Hanabi, unaware of her sister's predicament, continued to drag her to the dining hall, questioning, "How is Hima-chan?"
Hinata let her thoughts simmer down, hiding in the corner of her mind. She turned to her sister, patting the back of her head with longing and care, "She got better. I am relieved."
Hanabi's eyes shone, she pulled the chair and rested on the chair. Her hand moved forward to grab the jug, pouring water into the glass. Silence trailed after Hinata for a couple of minutes while Hanabi made herself comfortable as she drank a glass of water and leaned back in the chair. Each second began to pass by slower than ever.
Her heart began to stutter, her sister was in front of her with her welcoming warmth and yearning embrace yet Hinata's mind drifted to the absence of someone…someone who had scrutinized her to her core a week ago, someone who could put a crack in her mask, someone who was there in the morning but not in the evening.
A sudden burning sizzle glided over her skin at the staggering of her focus. The noise of her thoughts muffled the chiming sound of her sister's voice, and the shadows of her unbidden needs hovered over her like a rumbling cloud—Hinata was soaked with the shade of a solemn. Her stomach dropped.
"Hinataaaa!" Hanabi stood up abruptly, coming face to face with her as she cried out, snapping her fingers in front of Hinata.
Hinata stepped back, stirring. She fumbled, "Yes. Sorry…I…was thinking."
"I was asking about these…" Hanabi wiggled her eyebrows and gestured towards the bags. His gifts. Her breath was shaky as she bit her lip and nodded at Hanabi. Her mouth felt dry as if she had dust on her tongue.
Hanabi launched herself at the bags and began to untie the knot. Hinata's heart was in her throat. Heat licked at her insides. The tension began to press harder on her shoulders. Her blood continued to rush in her veins with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. As the first bag unwrapped before her, the symbol etched onto the box inside made her pulse quicken, and her drooping lips curled up into an unwitting smile stretched over her lips.
The symbol—a wilting rose framed in a deep golden circle—looked familiar.
Oh.
Oh.
Uchiha-san…
She swallowed a lump forming in her throat, a fluttering twisting in her chest and her heartbeat whispering like a boosted rhythm.
"Oh Kami, Hinata! The Suna chocolates you always wanted!" Hanabi's cheery voice rang, yet her trance continued to cradle her in its embrace. The thoughtfulness of his action began to settle down over her and fazed her, enthralling her in a way she wasn't sure was possible.
He remembered…
She had only once discussed Suna's chocolate and spices with him…it was the first time Sasuke and Sarada had dinner with her and her children. A look of disbelief shadowed her as she peered at the glimmering black box wrapped in golden ribbons, the scent of rich sweet taste lingered in the air.
"Hanabi…don't open…" Hinata meekly whispered.
Hanabi's fingers were about to tug at the butterfly-shaped ribbon and unfurl the goodness, but Hinata, breathless and puzzled, wanted to revel in the taste and in the experience by herself.
Hanabi simply shrugged and moved on to the other bag. Hinata began to feel the thrill and power emanating from the remnant of the gesture he left behind.
"Nee-san!" Hanabi chimed. "Oh Kami, Nee-san, who got you this?" Her wide-eyed, mouth parted and flushed face excitement palpitated in the air that hung around them, rustling the bags. "Oh My—"
Hinata stepped forward, peering at the eager hands of Hanabi peeling the elegant wrapping off the other box. Her fingers ran over the soft fabric. "Nee-san, this is by one of the most established and luxurious designers. Asahi Fujiwara…the one who had made our mother's wedding Kimono. This is his work. The gold threads are used on this." Hinata felt her sanity swimming in her head, she leaned forward and held the back of the chair to steady herself. "Even Hyuuga do not buy them anymore due to the rarity of his work and the pricelessness."
Hanabi's pale eyes met her softer ones, her sister arched her brow and squinted her eyes, looking right through her as if to try to get Hinata bare and raw for her inspection. Hanabi clicked her tongue, "No way your husband had the taste for this."
Hinata averted her gaze, letting the revulsion die down in the depths within her. "Naruto has given me gifts."
Hanabi chuckled, shaking her head. "Years ago."
"Hana—"
Hanabi cut her off, and continued her rambling, "Where did you get this, Nee-san? It is…beautiful. I feel selfish but I want to borrow this—"
Hinata's eyes flickered up to her sister's in an instant and she announced the truth as if to deny Hanabi, "Uchiha-san…gave me this." Embarrassment burned her cheeks as she lowered her gaze when Hanabi's gaze turned inquisitive and suspicious.
"Sasuke?" The way his name rolled off her sister's tongue…it felt foreign. A pang clenched at Hinata's chest at the mere thought of the world's disbelief about Sasuke's inherent kindness. Hinata could bellow out about the way Sasuke was way more than the perceptions of the world.
Hinata nodded, "Hm."
"Why?" Hanabi crossed her arms on her chest. "Look at me, Nee-san," she urged.
Hinata obeyed. She snapped her head up, letting her hesitating gaze rest on her sister's assertive stare. She flinched under the prodding weight of her sister's presence. Her gaze drifted towards the unwrapped box on the table, lilac silk with golden and silver work delicately honed on the fabric. A mix of tradition and sentimentality.
Her voice dipped into something quieter, her fingers clenching at the wood of the back of the chair turning her knuckles white, "We argued last week—"
"And Sasuke Uchiha is the kind of a man who'd bring you rare gifts to…what? Apologize?" Hanabi scoffed. Her scowl deepened. The look of utter disbelief and doubt draped over her face, hardening the softness of her beauty. The underlying disdain, the raging question on Sasuke's decency and honour made her breath still and sent a jolt coursing through her veins. Her annoyance lit up the flames lapping at her inside, evident in the frown hanging between her eyebrows.
"Yes." Hinata straightened up, squaring her shoulders. "Yes, he would. He is my friend. I know him." The mask of Hinata Hyuga slipped on with ease, the emptiness staring back at Hanabi made her sister stagger and subdue the alertness in her body.
Hanabi looked sideways, eyeing the chocolates, biting the inside of her cheek as she questioned, "But…Nee-san…what does he want?"
"It is between us, Hanabi. We argued and now he wants to…compensate…this might be his way," Hinata, despite the lack of answers, responded to her sister. "Do not question the integrity of his actions, I trust his thoughts behind it. Completely." Her incredulity exasperated Hinata. The slithering bafflement at his gesture pounded at the back of her mind. The stirring at the depths of her heart evoked a sense of responsibility within her to let the world know of the Sasuke Uchiha…a man, a simple man…a man who possessed the world-bending power and influence yet bowed to her…because he was simply a man who was as lost as she was.
Yet their paths collided.
And they met.
And they continued to meet…until…they didn't only just meet.
But explored each other.
Even if Hinata wished for Hanabi to know Sasuke, she understood it was an impossible task. The Sasuke she had come to know—the one she had seen up close, the one with the faint scars etching his skin, the one whose quiet moments of vulnerability had made him unmistakably human—was not a version of him she could share. That Sasuke was hers alone, that Sasuke was not for the world.
The thought tasted sinful in her head.
But she let the questioning noise become a static noise she couldn't listen to. The sound of sanity drowned out. The alarms for doom blared, yet Hinata thrived in the deafening silence of the unknown and unspoken.
.
.
.
The next afternoon was as happening as she didn't expect. The Konoha's heat simmering in the air led to the sweat beads trickling down the slope of Hinata's jaw as she sat, cross-legged, on the bench, under the shadowing tree, watching Himawari run on the soft grass, barefoot, as Akamaru bounded towards her speed that almost tackled Himawari to the ground.
Her daughter's giggles melted into her ears and soothed. Watching the glee on her face and sparkle back into her eyes rejuvenated Hinata as a whole. A soft breeze lifted strands of Hinata's hair, but she didn't tuck them away. She only watched, hands clasped loosely in her lap, shoulders relaxed but mind distant.
Something swayed.
She tilted her head up from her lowered gaze and without a thought, turned to the back.
Her senses had picked up a familiar pine scent and the chakra stirred the warm air with a searing thrum. Her eyes moved towards the paved pathway that wound through the park, catching the sight of him striding, with his hand tucked in his pocket and the cloak billowing around him as his eyes scanned the surroundings.
Until they landed on her.
She sucked in a sharp breath, her chest fell and something crackled in the air.
Everything around her dulled, the laughter and the chatter from the surroundings turned to a blurring noise as their gazes held each other.
Then as naturally as the wind whipped through the trees and shadows dappled on the grass, his path altered as he strolled towards her.
The moment stilled and stretched, Hinata began to breathe softly and soundlessly, steadying herself but never losing the strongly-held eye contact.
His eyes left hers first when he arrived beside her, dipping to sit down a few inches away, leaving some space between them. Hinata gulped, the finality of his presence penetrated and beckoned her.
"How is Himawari?" he drawled, leaning back.
"Good. She wanted to play outside…" She shifted her gaze towards the blur of blue and yellow, the snuggling and affectionate pats from Himawari to Akamaru warmed her heart.
He hummed, looking ahead. His look was distant as if he was simply staring, not seeing.
"Were the chocolates and the Kimono your apology?"
Sasuke shrugged, his hand clawing at the fabric of his trousers, "You are perceptive, you don't need me to tell you—"
Hinata questioned, "Why two gifts? I remember talking about the Suna Chocolates—"
He heaved a sigh, and irritation led him to flare his nose. "Sweets I brought because my friend wanted to eat them," Sasuke turned to her, his face set and words measured, "Kimono was the…"
"Apology?" Hinata fought the smile twitching on her lips.
He grunted.
Hinata meekly tucked a straying strand behind her ear, ducked her head for aninfinitesimal bow, and said,"They are very expensive, Uchiha-san…though I'm glad that you remembered."
"I own a district, Hime." Sasuke scoffed. His gaze caught the widening of her eyes and Hinata looked away immediately. "You might be a Hime, Hyuga but do not forget who you are talking to. Matters of wealth are beneath me." The cocky lilt in his tone and the pride in his words made her steer her eyes towards him and snicker.
Silence fell between them, and their flitting stares at each other couldn't fill the echoing quietude bearing down on them.
"Uchiha-san—" she began.
"That dinner…went bad. I did not mean to hurt you." Sasuke fidgeted and swivelled towards her, holding her gaze, tethering her to him with swift control. Hinata sensed the convulsing pressure throbbing in the middle of her forehead, she felt her throat tighten. The fear of falling into another argument stitched through her. "I was annoyed at Naruto and then you…"
"Everything is complicated." Hinata slipped off her sandals and pressed her feet into the grass, the dampness soothed.
"But now you know…" he turned away from her, the burn of his gaze drifted away from her, but the way his focus consumed her entirety thrilled her.
The noise around them became louder, enough to dampen the rumble of her thoughts and the thumping of heartbeats. The chatter of people around, the cackles of children and the chirping of birds became the only sounds piercing through the silence that had shrouded them.
He squirmed, and the wood creaked beneath him, she looked over him through her slanted gaze and saw the lift of the corner of his lips, she noticed the twinkling humour flicker in his stare, colouring his face, "Do you want me to beg for your forgiveness on my knees now, Hime?" He quirked up his brow at her.
Her eyes widened at the playful shift, "Can you, Uchiha-san?" Her cheeks flamed as she reciprocated, shunning the sourness that had occupied a space between them last week.
His voice dipped low, reverberating from his chest, "I never pegged you as the kind of a woman who loves to make men beg." His dark eye glinted, and a shudder ran up her spine at how his sharp look fell over her.
"Then what kind of a woman did you think I was?" Hinata shrugged, picking up the lidded bento box from beside her.
"The one who begs," his clipped tone, his harsh words, yet a sly smirk on his face.
Hinata shook her head, "You're not funny." She brought the sandwich to her mouth.
He leaned back again, sprawling his legs ahead, and the tension easing from his muscles, "I know."
Before another wave of silence could thrash against their shore, he continued, clicking his tongue, "So…how is your life without your lunch and dinner companion?" Hinata's thoughts ran wild, the smell of tantalising juicy tomatoes must have enticed him, she thought.
For Hinata, it hit. Her muscles tensed under the onslaught of the memories resurfacing—the trip to Sato's family, Hinata's faltering health, her one-month bedrest, her stagnant life and her need to see him …even Naruto— it all rushed back to her, "Ever since we came back from my trip…you haven't been my companion."
He kicked the rock off the grass, "I'll come back." He leaned to the side, taking the half-bitten sandwich from her hands. She was left agape, gawking at the way he snatched her food, feasting on it as if he owned it.
"Uchiha-san—"
He hummed, wiping the corners of his lips with the back of his sleeve, "It's good."
The protests died on her lips, her eyes softened at the way he relished the taste and picked up the Bento, collecting the cherry tomatoes. A sense of peace pooled in the pit of her stomach and a fluttering sensation threaded through her being. The ease with which they fell back to their routine, it warmed her from deep within.
The clouds wheeled overhead, the warmth shimmered down on them and Hinata eased into the affection of her rekindled bond, savouring the sweetness in the fragility.
She missed that. That normalcy she shared with Sasuke…she was habitual of it.
The reality drilled into her sanity. "This Park used to be better."
"You used to come here?" he asked, snapping his head towards her.
Hinata wrung her hands together on her lap when she looked up, staring at him through her eyelashes, "We used to."
"What?" he choked. "We knew each other?"
"Our families did. Our mothers mainly, my father told me." Hinata's breathing was even now, her blush spread over her like wildfire and she exhaled. "You used to visit our compound when were kids…when everything was…" Hinata's words trailed, she bit her tongue, pausing. Her frown deepened, aand n apologetic look framed her expression, "I am sorry—"
"I don't remember much before…" he drawled. "But you can tell me," he squinted. His eagerness was subtle but not subdued.
Hinata let the palpitations calm down. "I don't remember much as well. My father once told us." She heaved a sigh, "You particularly tagged along with your brother, didn't let him play with us. As per my father, you were…cranky." Hinata stifled a laughter bubbling in her throat.
Sasuke rolled his eyes, grunting, "Whatever." He continued to question, "Itachi played with you?"
Hinata raised her eyebrows, "We were all children, barely five or six…he must be not old enough to forget the pleasures of childish games." As her words escaped her mouth, she cursed mentally, the fragments of Uchiha's history began to puzzle together in her vision.
Sasuke added, solemn shade yet again encroached his expression, "He was old enough…for many things." His voice was clipped, jaw set and forehead marred with a deep frown.
Hinata felt the sound of blood pounding in her ears. She shifted the tide, "You liked our food." She wiggled her eyebrows, to catch his attention.
"I don't doubt that." Sasuke nudged the empty Bento box and the unrest shed from his expression.
Hinata almost squealed as her father's words rang in her head, as she mapped out his words, her amusement peaked. "You were aloof, unapproachable, bratty and quite a handful…" Sasuke scoffed, "In a way…like Boruto. Even Naruto says that about you both being similar—"
"Do not compare me with your brat—"
"Boruto trusts his circle only, he is aloof but hides behind his brattiness. He is cranky when he doesn't have his people around. I am not saying that he is the same as you….but you both have similarities," Hinata sighed, a small smile budding on the corner of her lips.
Sasuke raked his hand in his hair and huffed. "Whatever. I am still shook about Itachi—"
"We have some pictures at the compound about those family gatherings," Hinata chimed in, almost on the edge of her bench at the rising excitement, "You both looked similar, you carried your mother's features, and he had a mix of your parents …different hair though," Hinata tapped her chin.
"Hm, I didn't have those silky locks," Sasuke chuckled.
Hinata sharply countered, "You had your spiky hair." The moment between was stretching, becoming more than it was supposed to be. Himawari stopped before them and quickly waved at Sasuke before racing back towards her friends. "Your hair represented your personality," Hinata added, playfully mocking him while picking up the almost empty Bento from his lap.
Sasuke held onto the box, yanking it towards him, Hinata's grip slipped off. His childishness was endearing. "You are simply bullying me, Hyuga."
Hinata felt the enthralling and deep-seating feeling filling her as she remembered a piece of information which her father was reluctant to share but blurted out due to Hanabi's insistence. "Our clans were supposed to become closer…even the Third was onboarded. But as you know, things shifted—"
"What?" He looked stiff.
"Um…" she bit her lip, musing while craning her head up to watch the sun dipping into the horizon, deepening the colours swept over the tapestry of the sky.
Sasuke scooted closer to her, his hand shot up to grasp her chin and abruptly pulled towards him as he gritted, "Patience isn't one of my very few virtues."
Hinata schooled her facial expression, his rough grip on her chin was harsh yet very Sasuke-like,and his hold slackened as his hand slid down, "A pact of Marriage was signed by the Clan heads and the in-command Hokage."
Sasuke almost recoiled. Hinata's amusement was boundless. He fumbled, "What? Marriage? Like …you and I were…" His mind had its wheel running like crazy.
Hinata burst into sputtering cackles, "I was the heir, Uchiha-san!"
He swallowed, narrowing his gaze on her, "So?" He drawled lazily then his eyes stunned and widened, "You and Itachi? Oh, hell!" His voice raised, pitching higher than ever. His face twisted, a string of dread and disgust wrapped around him.
"My father told me that I was a willing party, at times even shamelessly gawked at your brother from behind the bushes," Hinata knew about the absolute certainty of his unease, his disappointment and disapproval at the mere utterance of an ancient and nullified contract, so she teased, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh.
"You were like six, Hyuga. Have some shame!" He sucked in a sharp breath, his stare turning into an annoyed glare. The curl of his lips in a sneer, the jutting out of his chin to exert power and defiance and the stiffness of his shoulder as if to balance his existence on them.
Hinata was smitten by the stoicism cracking, revealing a peek of the unrestrained Sasuke Uchiha. "We belong to traditional clans, Uchiha-san. It shouldn't come as a surprise to you," she hit his nerve again.
Sasuke almost gagged, his laughable attempts to sit without squirming were an entertainment that she cherished, "Weren't you into Naruto?"
"If my father had told me to marry Itachi-sama, I believe I would have." Hinata stilled, her answer was truthful. "It was for the clan. I always wanted to prove to my father…"
"You liked Itachi?" Sasuke seemed on edge, his shoulders slumped and eyes drooped in worry.
Hinata shrugged. "As per my father, he and I got along well. I once shared my pressed flowers with him, which was embarrassing for my clan." She burst into a light-hearted laughter that chimed in the air. She felt Sasuke's ears turning red.
Sasuke's voice turned gravelly, "Shitty taste in men. First Itachi then Naruto."
"My father told us that he admired Itachi-sama. He was devoted, mature and well-mannered," Hinata truthfully added, then as she saw the shade of annoyance pigmenting his eyes, she scraped his wounds, "He was considered good-looking too." Sasuke winced, shaking his head.
His hand curled into a fist over the Bento box, denting the lid with his force, "He would be worse than what Naruto is becoming. He would have chosen the village over you."
Hinata mused for a moment before nodding, "Maybe. Was there anyone he loved more than the village?"
Sasuke smirked. "Me."
Hinata couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth, she rolled back into the seat, the fits of laughter clenching her stomach, "Ah! I would have to fight Uchiha-san for Itachi-sama's attention."
Sasuke unhooked his cloak, unbuttoning the collar of the shirt, breathing through his nose with quick puffs as if irritation was pressing down on him, his vexed expression became the source of elation for her. "Well, he did have someone…one of the Uchihas."
"He courted someone," pure curiosity lit up within her.
Sasuke let out a crazed laugh, low and guttural, "Do not worry, Hyuga-hime. If he were your betrothed, he wouldn't have pursued anyone else. He was dignified enough." He draped his cloak over the back of the bench, "Do not be jealous."
Hinata whined, "Uchiha-san, do not tease me."
A cold thread of cowardly dread slithered up her spine when he closed in on her, hitting two fingers on her forehead, flicking at her, "You can take his name but not mine?" He rubbed the spot of her forehead to assuage the barely there ache of his flick.
Hinata lowered her gaze, a sheepish smile tugging on her lips as she breathed, "You and I are…different."
He clicked his tongue, grumbling, "You feel more familiar with him." He looked keenly at her and uttered, "Not me? Still uncomfortable with me?"
Her body shook with an unknown wave of emotion. "Not at all." She let the gentle flame lave at her insides with a twinge of warmth, "After the…you know," she bit the inside of her cheek, eyebrows furrowed.
"Did I do something after the massacre?" he put her out of her misery.
Hinata vehemently shook her head, "Nothing too bad. I brought you a bento during our lunch break once, you shunned me away thinking I was one of your…fangirls." A sense of longing sparkled in her eyes as a blurred memory of her younger days resurfaced. Her meek and small frame waiting behind the tree where Sasuke used to hide, her fingers trembling while clutching the box and then a small child, the same age as hers, glared at her, dismissively.
And now, she sat beside the same child, who was a grown-up, carrying mismatched eyes, a missing arm and worrying lines etched on his face.
But that moment was sacred, because he carried her Bento in his embrace with tenderness in his grasp, as if he liked keeping it.
He murmured under his breath, "I am sorry."
Before the dynamic could deepen and shift, becoming overwhelming, she straightened up and pulled her hair back, rolling it into a bun as she said, "I was offended that you considered me one of your fangirls."
He snorted. "Of course. You were ten steps ahead of everyone. You were Itachi's fangirl." He scoffed, "I wonder what Naruto or Hiashi would say about their little princess gushing about a Uchiha." He shoved the empty Bento in her lap, she felt the rounded edges digging deeper into her thighs as if he meant to cause her a little pain to alleviate his distress at her teasing.
Hinata knew that it wasn't the last time Sasuke was teasing her. And that filled her chest with the ardent pleasure.
Hinata clapped her hands together, licking her lips, "But Itachi-sama—"
Sasuke groaned, throwing a dark stare at her like a dagger, "Hyuga, don't push it. I'm already pissed at the mere prospect of you both…"
"Himawari…" she called out, her daughter resting against the tree, Akamaru cuddled in her lap and her friends huddled beside her.
"Ten more minutes…" Himawari mouthed and raised both of her palms to show the ten.
Sasuke interrupted by catching her by the wrist, "Sit down." She glanced back at him, "Let her play." Hinata plopped back down on her bench.
The distance between them fizzled out. Their arms touched each other, their scents mingled with each other and their heaving chest followed the same rhythm. It felt almost strange to sit here with him and talk to him after the weekend they had had. She thought that the moment their friendship had severed last week…was the end of all that which they were sharing limitlessly. She thought it was impossible for things to go back to the way they were.
But they were cloaked in their silence. Just like before. They basked in each other's existence. Just like before.
Hinata let her thoughts run wild, "Do you share the same sentiments towards the village now…same as your brother I mean."
Sasuke turned to face her, but she looked ahead, eyes trained on the leaves rustling with the whip of the wind and cat running after a butterfly drifting away or even at the lilac eyes mirroring her eyes.
She felt his breath on the side of her temples. "No." He was assertive. "I will pick my loved ones over the village no matter what."
Hinata let the conversation flow seamlessly, bringing a finger in her mouth, biting the side of the nail in wavering anxiety, "This is why you gave up your revenge against Konoha…for Naruto?"
Sasuke admitted, "He…made sense to me. Konoha made sense to me because he is Konoha." His arm pressed against hers sent a jolting heat boiling in her veins.
A sudden giggle pierced through the charged-up air gathering around them. She chirped, turning her face to face him, "No wonder people think the way they think about you and Naruto."
He ducked, lowering his head to meet her eye level. His nose almost brushed against hers. His hot breath fanning across her mouth and his eyes, dark and haunting, peering into her as if to search for a truth within her which could keep him afloat.
There was a desperation in his look.
But with a brief closing of his eyes, that look of utter need disappeared.
It was a power worth raving—the ability of Sasuke Uchiha to hold her with a mere gaze, touch her with a subtle quirk of his eyebrow and converse with her with a mere gasp.
Unsure about what to say, she became hesitant and thought about rushing towards Himawari and bribing her to go home soon.
But his jaw twitched, his stare wavered and he asked, "What do you mean by that? What do people think about us?"
Hinata thanked the Gods above. The conversation between them didn't end up on a heated note or an awkward pause. His impassiveness crackled, beset by the pull of his annoyance, she let a small smile creep on her lips, urging a gruntle out of him.
His voice carried a warning, "Hyuga, don't test me."
The conflicting choice of staying in the flickering flames ignited between them or dashing towards the confines of her sanctuary, without his blaring presence—Hinata was accustomed to the fire spreading through her.
So she stayed, choosing to cause more stress lines on his pale face.
Hinata folded her arms across her chest and pouted, averting her gaze as if thinking deeply, "Itachi-sam wouldn't be this unkind to me—"
Sasuke jumped off the bench, his body taut with agitation, "Hyuga, I am your Uchiha-san, not Itachi-sama so cut the crap and don't stall." He huffed, and Hinata sank in her bench as he towered over her, "Speak," he commanded her.
She slipped her feet into her sandals and breathed, "People believed that you and Naruto were more than friends. You never visited anyone but him. He bragged about your body moving on its own to save him." Her silvery laugh made him stagger, mouth open and eyes dazed with surprise, "He even begged the Raikage for you…on his knees." She pursed her lips into a thin line, struggling to keep the smile from erupting.
The anger flushed his face into a deep crimson. His fist clenched the cloak like a crumpled paper. His brows knitted together. "What the fuck? I visited because he asked me to…I chose him because he represented a path that my brother envisioned for me."
Hinata cocked her eyebrow, "You could send your hawk."
A shudder ran through him, he shivered and the display of his disgust and torment reminded her of Naruto when Sai questioned him for the same matter. Sasuke chided her, "Shut up, Hyuga."
She rose from the bench. She laughed, a ringing melody buzzing in the air and she saw how he almost closed his eyes for a moment as if to take it all in, "He talks about you a lot to the council."
Sasuke grabbed his hair as if he meant to uproot them, "He is such a fucking loser. I'm not meeting him in public anymore."
Hinata giggled, relishing in the way Sasuke was unravelling, looking more undone than ever. She peeled through his layers, revealing a Sasuke who she had never seen. "He will be more vocal, more expressive…"
Hinata slammed through his barriers because the childlike stubbornness, the immature stomping of his feet on the ground, and the appalling state of his crushing mind, were the aspects of Sasuke that one couldn't ever guess for him to have.
Sasuke stepped forward, tipping her chin up with a quick jerk, "If I see you rambling about this too—
Hinata dropped the bomb, dwelling in the after-effects of her squeals and giggles, "Sakura-san, Ino, Kiba-kun, Shikamaru-san…everyone of us has already laughed at this, you'd be surprised to know how many of us actually could rationalize the truth behind the…suggestive rumour."
Sasuke grumbled, his patience thinning. Leaning forward, he caught her face in his hand, his grip firm enough to make her cheeks dip and her lips pout involuntarily. His shared proximity with her carried a set of nuances.
He whispered, "You surprise me, every damn time …Hime."
You too, Sasuke. Her mind swayed with a response she couldn't voice out. She stood still, frozen.
"Mama!" Himawari's voice cut through the stillness of the moment. Sasuke stepped back, shoving his hand in his pocket. Hinata gulped and pressed both of her hands on her cheek, the tingles of heat trickled down her cheeks.
Hinata licked her lips, and exhaled through her nose, unclenching the tenseness sitting in her bones. She looked to the side, Sasuke remained a few inches away, but not out of reach.
So she reached out to him, brushing her hand against his arm, "I accept."
"What?" his face contorted, the expression turned inquisitive.
"Chocolates," she whispered. "Kimono as well," she clutched the hem of her sleeve like a lifeline.
Her world shifted on her axis.
The doom loomed around her, she was unsure of her sins, but she surely knew that time was ticking, she could hear it clicking at the back of her mind.
He nodded, "Thank you." The sun dipped, bathing the world under a dulling darkness.
Thank you, Sasuke. She expressed it like a prayer on a shrine.
.
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A/N: SHARE YOUR REVIEWS!
Did you like it? You can guess how much Hinata was lying to tease Sasuke!
Which was your favorite moment.