Chapter 17: Unusual Longings (Second Arc)
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After being an observer for Sarada in the training grounds and visiting Sakura at the hospital, as per her request, Sasuke's veins felt the ache as if they knotted and tightened. He strode lazily on the pavement that lined the streets, watching the sun climbing higher, his sweat pooling beneath his cloak's collar. His scowl began to set in on his face.
The world passed by him; the shutters of the shop clanking, the buttery aroma wafting from the bakeries, the hustle and bustle of children on loose from their academy, Sasuke yearned for the sense of belongingness to thread through him. His mind began to throb at the center.
The emptiness of his life was predatory, lunging towards him, darkening his thoughts. His hand twitched, clenched and hung at his side, grasping for something to hold onto as his mental ramblings began to recede, drawing him to the past he abhorred.
His feet began to drag him to a familiar path, the tall trees came into his view, the chiming birds fluttering their wings with the gust of wind and the wood-structured houses came into the scenery.
He found himself on the porch of a familiar door, as his tradition, he heaved a sigh and paused the thoughts crushing his mind, and with a blank canvas of a mind, he rapped on the door.
Just once.
She always opened the door to her home, with just one knock.
And she did.
As the door pulled open, Sasuke came face to face with Hinata, draped in an apron with a sauce dripping down the fabric.
"Uchiha-san, good afternoon," she greeted, her eyes crinkled at the corner as her smile widened.
He nodded. Leaving the exhausting thoughts at the doorstep, he embraced the momentary peace that lingered in the air of her home. The reprieve took him into an embrace, massaging the tenseness out of his body. The door shut behind him with a soft thud, and the finality of the moment pressed on him.
"No one's home?" he quipped, leaning at the doorframe of the kitchen, while she went behind the counter, deftly managing the bubbling broth and the precise chopping of the carrots and green onions on the cutting board.
"Himawari has begun training with Hanabi, so she is being spoiled rotten at the compound. Boruto, you would know, is with his team." Her eyes locked into the crescent-shaped cucumbers she prepared, "Naruto is at the tower as always," Sasuke could hear the depth in her tone, the sad humour…or mockery laced her words.
Before the resentment within her turned more bitter with anger and sadness surging through her, Sasuke stepped inside the kitchen, his hand tucked into his pocket and mind raging to pull her out of the exhausting thoughts teeming deep within her.
"Hyuga," he began, choosing to rattle her with something else. Something entertaining for him. "Is it hard to cook for me?" He questioned. Her head snapped towards her, and a significant spark of absurdness gleamed in her pearly gaze.
"What?" she gasped. "Of course not! Not at all!" The way worry carved into her felt thrilling. "I love cooking, it's better to eat with someone…so It's no bother for me, I enjoy your company—" she dropped her spoon in the sink and continued to ramble.
"Sure?" He approached her, "I need to know."
She vehemently nodded her head, a light frown marred her forehead. Desperation washed over her, he could see the way her finger fiddled with the fabric of her apron.
"You were drunk that night…remember," he stepped into her space, looking down at the miso broth simmering on the stove. He noticed a slight shake in her frame as he neared hers, "you said something laughable that night but I believe I should be sure about it."
"What is it, Uchiha-san," she meekly whispered, looking up at him, her face drained of colour in anticipation.
He gulped. His mind berated him for keeping her on the edge like that. The way her face fell clutched at his chest. Her blurred expression was a temptation he often indulged in.
She seemed to have her breath hitched, with an uninvited lump lodged into her throat.
"You mentioned that you disliked it when I called you Hyuga all the time," he noticed the panic surging within her as her chakra dwindled within her, "you found it disrespectful, it made you feel like a maid. Also…you didn't like that I ate four portions of your food and still didn't thank."
Hinata sank, she took her face into her quivering palms and mumbled incoherently. Sasuke mentally snickered at the way she was affected. He craved to see the scarlet-tinted look burning on her. Her groaning became hypnotic as he drowned in the possibility of stretching the matter at length to get her flustered enough for his infinite amusement.
She lifted her face, and as he desired, the red gleamed on her cheeks, dipping down to the slope of her neck. "I…I was not in the right h-head space that night, please forgive me," she stammered.
"Where did that come from, Hinata?" he urged, probing further, watching the unnerving pressure sitting on her shoulders, slumping her. Her train of thought was trailing, pulling her like gravity. He snuck in another glance at her state.
"I d-didn't mean to, I promise!" she whined, frowning. Her lips curled into a pout and the distant expression washed over her gaze. She released a breath, and a shiver coursed through her body as if she had held her breath for months. She was about to bury her face again in her hands but he reached out to wrap his hand around her wrist. The delicate bone felt fragile, as if with one snap, it would break.
His grip loosened in fear of bruising her pale skin, but his hold remained. He tugged at her wrist and pulled her, she staggered closer to him. "Then?" he ducked, leaning down to bring his face closer to hers. She lowered her head, avoiding him. He hissed, perturbed by her averted gaze, "You can't hide from me, you know."
She voiced out, barely enough for him to hear despite the pulsing proximity, "It is nothing—"
He grunted, his fingers tightened his grip a little, to probe her, "Look at me and answer."
"Naruto once told me that you called me Hyuga because you didn't know my name," she raised her head, her fallen gaze staring into his firm stare, her words sounded croaky with her voice breaking at the end, "It bothered me, without sense, I know. But I don't have the best self-esteem out there…" her voice trailed. She wrenched her hand out of his grasp, taking a step back and tucking the loose strand behind her ear.
"I admit that initially, I didn't know you, but that was a long time ago—"
"It is nothing. It was a stupid thought. It was rubbish. I don't turn away people from food…at all," she assured, her hand grabbing the edge of the counter as if to steady herself. "I just felt small," she confided.
"Your worries are not nothing or stupid or rubbish. I wanted to know what hurt you," he sighed. "You don't have to feel small with a person who has a past like me," he chuckled darkly, his mind daring him to wallow in his own self-esteem issues but he backed away from such nuanced miseries.
She looked winded. She looked as if she wished for the earth to split and swallow her existence. "It's not like I wanted thanks or anything, I just …it just reminded me of our Branch helpers in the compound. They're just Hyuga, nameless. And it always bothered me…" he noticed the slight pinch of her brows and her nails scraping the counter it was holding onto.
"Calling you Hyuga is a habit I find endearing enough to keep…perhaps I thought It was our thing," he could feel the icy pit forming deep within him, pulling him. "I thought it was common among friends to have …this, whatever this is…" he fumbled. "I mean…I call Naruto, a loser and Sarada, a peanut," he shrugged, attempting to hide the embarrassment seeping into his words.
Understanding began to weigh on her as she dipped her eyes, mumbling, "Oh." She drew her lips between her teeth. "I like it then," she whispered, glancing up at him through the fluttering eyelashes.
He uttered, a soft sigh escaping his lips, "Thank you."
"For?" she quipped, her innocent eyes questioning.
He was quick to answer, for he had no doubt about the goodness Hinata had bestowed upon him. "Everything. For food. For being my friend. For tolerating my…less than ideal sides?" He stepped back, allowing themselves to release a breath, the stiffening tension dissipating with the distance stretching between them. "Once Sakura told me that you'd even serve Madara a meal, so…I mean…I don't intend to impose—"
Hinata literally bloomed. If that made sense. Her eyes sparkled, like stars twinkling in the dark night. Her cheeks fluffed and reddened, "You are my friend, I don't find you imposing at all. You are a hero of Konoha, please do not feel small as well."
A sense of relief washed over him, "You're not my maid either. You are a Hime." He was pouring down a glass of water for himself.
"I like spending time with you," she expressed as she untied her apron and hooked it on the stand nearby. "My behaviour that night was questionable, you don't have to clarify anymore."
He gulped, the cold water sliding down his throat to his chest felt liberating as if it jolted him to stay awake rather than drowning in the warmth forming like a webbed cage in his chest.
He announced, "I'm clarifying because I want you to know that I know who you are, you are not nameless to me."
He felt her hands pausing while under the tap, wringing each other. She hissed, sucking on her teeth. "I…a-am glad, Uchiha-san."
Sasuke turned around, leaving the kitchen. His mind concocted something more irritating, "About the portions of food. I'll eat two portions from now on," he drawled as he strode towards the living room. He knew that his voice boomed within the walls, he felt her soft thudding steps trailing behind him, a quiet urgency in the gasps escaping her mouth, "I bring Sarada too at times, that's an added burden, have to stop that too." He launched himself inside the living room, sunlight filtered through the curtains and shadowed the walls.
"Uchiha-san!" she called out. Sasuke didn't turn towards her, revealing the smile creeping up on the corner of his lips and the unusual humour gleaming in his eyes. He knew…he was very well aware that she would feel the pang in her chest, he could already feel her chakra perturbed within her. "Don't you know me a little to know that I wouldn't ever mean that! I was a disaster that night, please do not be offended."
He schooled his face, stoic mask slipped on with precision as he turned on his heel and paused, facing her. She almost slammed onto his chest as she hurried towards him. "Maybe you are right. But I have got to preserve my self-respect." He shrugged, she fidgeted on the spot, the troubling thoughts seemed to wrap around her sanity, he could read everything on her face. "Maybe…no dinners from now on, only lunch…one in a week…does that suit you?"
He shouldn't have done that.
He realized.
A little late.
Because her face fell. The blooming life that had sparkled in her, vanished. She chewed the inside of her cheeks for a moment with her eyes focused on her toes. "Are you really offended?" she croaked.
Sasuke continued, he genuinely felt laughter simmering beneath the facade of mock hurt and annoyance, "Of course. You hurt my pride. You little Hyuga managed to tarnish my respect—"
Her stammering voice was heavy with an unshed sob, "I…I…didn't m-mean…"
"Fuck." And then it hit him. He wanted to punch his own face. The way her low voice trembled, the utter sadness, it slammed onto him. "Hinata, look at me," he urged, moving forward, closer to her. His hand froze, hung limp at his side, otherwise, his finger itched to lift her chin.
She tucked the framing layers away from her face, gulping as she peered at him. Her eyes flashed, glassy and blurred with tears in the corners, "Uh…" she squeaked.
"Hime, you are about to cry?" he gasped, stunned. His mouth was agape.
She nodded, biting her lip. "I a-already do not feel good about our argument, I …I…did not mean to insult you…I promise, Uchiha-san," she implored. He felt as if he was pelted. He balled his fist hard enough to feel his sharp nails digging into his skin.
His teeth clamped together in annoyance. At himself. She was right, he was not a funny man. At all.
He confessed, "Hyuga, I was teasing you."
Disbelief and shock flitted across her face. Abashed, Sasuke sucked in a sharp breath, preparing himself. Somewhere between apologising to her in his own way and teasing her, he forgot how to bear the shattering expression, because it tugged at his chest.
"What?" She palmed her cheeks, trying to get them to cool down.
"Well, initially…I wanted to get your sober thoughts then I thought to tease you. You entertain me."
She whined, her jaw hanging, and indignation flushed over her. "You made me cry!"
Her words punched his gut, he choked out a laugh. "I didn't think you'd cry!" he defended, fighting the smile emerging on his lips.
A shadowed rage teemed behind her empty eyes. "You shared that you felt disrespected and hurt…and you expected me not to be emotional about it?" She crossed her arms on her chest, straightening her spine.
"Yes. But I guess you carry the emotions of all of Konoha in you," he snickered. She gave him a long look. Startled by her unravelling gaze, his expression contorted to a restrained one. His lips set into a thin line.
His humourless antics receded while her frustration surged.
A resounding silence began to build up.
Annoyance began to surge within him at that. He detested the way silence snaked through the cracks between them and settled in the space around them from time to time.
"You…" she lifted a finger, her wary eyes bored into his, "You are a devil!" He swatted her raised hand.
He commented, "Been called worse."
She huffed, her fingers clawing at her arms as she crossed her arms on her chest tightly, "Why do you tease me? Am I your toy?"
"You are neither my maid nor my toy," he clarified. "I just find it endearing when you are flustered." He flicked her forehead. She groaned.
She shot back, "Sadist much!"
He teased, "Got a mouth on you now…you were tearing up …like five seconds ago."
She blinked away the tears. "I was afraid!" Her shoulders slumped. "Afraid of losing…us…again," she sighed as if pulled out of the depths of the ocean, seeking air.
What she said, felt intimate. It threaded through his being, leaving him in awe of the significance of him in her life. He lowered his head, peeking at her as he assured her, "I am here, still shamelessly waiting for your miso bowl."
Her delicate punch shoved him away, he stumbled a step back, and she snapped, "Go to Naruto. Get ramen with your best friend. You teased me enough!"
"I didn't want you to cry, I don't like that." He followed her. Unknowingly, the emptiness he had been carrying within him, melted away. In the warmth of her home, amidst their own chatter, Sasuke felt himself opening up, unravelling. "Don't be cruel, Hime." He rushed to her, chasing her, grabbing her by the arm and she spun and turned to him.
She raised her chin, defying him, "One condition."
He bowed, "Say it."
She wiggled her eyebrows at him, "Eat Cinnamon buns with me." A torturing proposition. Never.
He scoffed, "Those are ghastly and horrendous—"
She nodded. Her eyes hardened at him, "Fine. Naruto would love to spare an hour for you at Ichiraku—"
He surrendered, his hold slipping from her arm, "How many do I have to eat?"
She tilted her head, her frowning lips finally shifted and a smile stretched on her face, "Only one. The rest of them are for me."
Sasuke circled around the table and dragged a chair, easing into the wood and sliding the empty plate before him. He grabbed the spoon and scraped against the rim of the plate, the sharp clinking noise echoed.
Hinata's expression finally blossomed. Her withering eyes lit up with its usual sparkle and her cheeks flushed. Her laugh echoed in return at his attempts to grate on her nerves. Her fluttering and light laugh filled the air and pulsed around him. She shook her head.
"Uchiha-san, you're important to me." Her laugh sputtered, erupting like bubbles, "I hope we never fight." She wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes blinked away the tears from her joy.
Ensnared by the twinkling exhilaration colouring her face, he felt his tongue tied, the words were flat in his mouth but he was unable to express them. His eyes remained locked on hers, watching the carefree amusement breathing new life into her.
He finally breathed, "Of course, I hope as well. I can't survive on ramen."
She pursed her lips. "Anyways, I will go to the Orphanage—"
He didn't think, he simply agreed, "I'll tag along."
With her, his thoughts had the freedom of their own. He willed whatever she willed. Whatever that was; for a moment, Sasuke lived the remnants of it, with no qualms.
As she was about to hurry back to the kitchen, his question lingered, filling her yet again with a gripping fervour, "If I shouldn't call you Hyuga, then what do I call you? Hyuga-Hime? Hime-sama? Hyuga-san? Uzumaki-san?" His lips curled into a smirk as she snapped her head towards him with a long look at his innate need to just scrape her wounds.
"Hinata is fine," she narrowed her gaze at him.
He nodded. His weight dipped on the chair as he shifted towards her, his elbow on the table and his face cradled in his palm. "Okay…Hyuga."
Hinata chuckled, shaking her head and faded into the kitchen, leaving him smirking behind her.
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At the orphanage, the day had been a burst of energy. Sasuke had accompanied Hinata, tiring himself and working to the bone with the children in the garden. Hinata had an unusual longing to pause the time and relish in the moment.
Amidst children, her life had found its semblance.
Now, as the night had dawned upon them, draping a chilly cloak of darkness, time ticked quicker. Hinata navigated around the hall, finishing her work; the paint boxes were emptied and washed, the disposable plates and cutlery were trashed and the carpets were swept and mopped. Hinata hummed in affection as the memory resurfaced—Sasuke walking behind Hinata, children's chatter abruptly cut, their big eyes assessing and judging Sasuke from head to toe, making him shrink. He trailed behind her until the children began to feel accustomed to his presence in their intimate time. The memory was the one she had tucked in the brightest corner of her mind; children were in awe of Sasuke as Hinata began to introduce him as the Uchiha from the shadows.
The pride. The awe. The childish crush. Everything for him, Hinata's chest warmed at the display, at his acceptance in a place where she felt the embrace of a home.
He was pitch black. Deep red. Yet…he shone the brightest in those children's eyes, they flocked towards him, like moth to a flame. They tugged on his cloak, they queried about his eyes, and demanded a show of one-handed signs for the Jutsus—they basked in the glory of the mighty Sasuke Uchiha.
The orphanage dwelled in his presence, and she simply stared at the life unfolding before her, with him.
As she settled the clutter from the hall, she stepped towards the living room, expecting to find Sasuke's brooding presence, irritated at the hour. With a sidelong glance from the edge of the hall, she saw him seated at the corner sofa, eyeing the glass globe twirling at the side table. His fingers drummed absently against his knee, thinking lines crinkling in the middle of his forehead.
Before Hinata could step closer, a small child darted towards Sasuke. He stirred, and his trance broke. Hinata hid behind the doorway, her chakra masked and muted. The child, motivated to the core, dragged a little chair across the floor, eagerness thrumming with the scraping noise grating on her nerves as she winced.
He plopped the chair down in front of Sasuke.
The twitch in Sasuke's jaw reflected his amused confusion.
"Hello, Uchiha-san," the kid greeted. He was Naoya, dark-eyed, dark-haired and a bit too blunt for people's taste but beaming with potential.
Sasuke leaned back, sinking into the sofa, with an unreadable expression, "Isn't this past your bedtime?"
The child declared, "I need your assistance in an adult business."
Sasuke arched an eyebrow, underlying bewilderment teeming behind his gaze, "How old are you?"
"Fifteen," the child gulped, Hinata bit on her tongue to not intrude.
He exhaled sharply, "Try again."
"Fourteen," the child lowered his head and averted his gaze as he lied.
Sasuke drawled, "I won't help if you aren't truthful—"
"Fine," he seethed. "I'm twelve. But I'm intelligent, okay."
Sasuke snorted, "Yes, right."
Hinata was smitten, quite enveloped in the conversation. She could comprehend the twitch and fidget of Sasuke; the shake of his fingers, the gardening of his mask, the arch of his eyebrow— everything about him spoke to her.
The boy gasped, "I like a girl."
Sasuke's face remained unchanged, his gaze unmoving from the boy and the nuisance prickling at him. "So?" he dryly asked, uninterested.
Naoya's eyes lit up, "She is a doll, very pretty." He gushed mentally before adding, "Like…I would look bad…that much pretty."
Hinata almost choked on her saliva. She could see the string of patience wound around him loosen. He rubbed the centre of his forehead as he said, "Why should I care?"
Naoya rambled, attempting to present his case, "Well, you see, she is very pretty like Hinata-san. And since you got her, even if you are like this…I felt that I should be asking you for some advice. Man to man." Hinata almost choked, her hand covering her mouth.
Sasuke blinked. Hinata bit the inside of her cheek to suppress the grin at his exhaustion. "Firstly, you are no man right now." He rolled his eyes, "Secondly, Hinata and I are…wait! Do you mean to say that I am not good enough for pretty people?"
She barely managed to smother a laugh. The way Naoya trampled on his pride, disoriented him. He stirred. She clamped a hand over her mouth again, to muffle a sound.
Naoya tilted his head, inspecting Sasuke with squinted eyes, "Are you considered handsome?"
Sasuke stared at him and deadpanned. He rubbed his face, exhaling sharply through his nose and his face shaded with exasperation. "Boruto is a lot better," he spoke to himself.
As if a seasoned critic, Naoya chimed, "You are like…average." Hinata couldn't believe her eyes and ears, never in a million years had she thought that she would be encountering a god-like power, Sasuke, face to face with a child, engaging about how good-looking they are.
Sasuke scoffed, unaffected seemingly but Hinata caught the darkening of his eyes. "Even at twelve, I looked better than you, little runt," he mocked.
"Not possible," Naoya proudly added, smirk crawling up on his lips. "Girls like to approach me."
"To smack you?" Sasuke stretched his legs forward, his foot hit the leg of Naoya's chair and the child held onto the armrest of the chair. Hinata shook her head, disappointed at the childishness that often spark within Sasuke.
"Anyways!" Naoya clasped his hand on his lap, "She can give me the flowers but she chose to run after a loser."
Hinata froze in her hiding spot, when he chuckled, his mask cracking and the wild humour erupted, "Dolls are usually after losers," he mused.
"Hinata-san was also after a loser?" Naoya almost whispered, darting his eyes around as if he wanted to not have any audience for his question. Well, too bad.
Hinata anticipated his answer. Her head stuck to the wall, and her breath leapt to her throat, waiting for Sasuke's comment. He began, "She is listening to this, but yeah, she was."
Hinata squeezed her eyes shut, lightly slammed her head on the wall, and groaned inwardly. But stubborn as she was, she didn't come out of hiding; instead, she remained hidden. Sasuke grunted, and his click of tongue echoed.
Swallowing the bitterness, warmth spread through her chest. Her resolve continued to tether her to the hiding.
Naoya rambled, flailing his arms in unrest, "I don't know. I am a good student. I have goals. I look good. I play sports. What does he have that I don't? His hair is funny. He is always pulling pranks on others and is very very loud. Why doesn't she like me then?"
Hinata mirrored Sasuke. Both of their eyes carried a similar glint in their eyes. Both of them had their lips curling into a smirk, as the memories of a yellow-haired idiot lanced through their thoughts. "Stop being desperate," Sasuke added, "Act like you don't care."
"Huh," Naoya blinked. Hinata had her jaw dropped.
"Scratch that, she will scold me for this." He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Naoya whined, his tiny hands balling into fists on his lap as he sat straight, "I'm not desperate. I just want her to like me."
"If she likes you, she likes you. If she doesn't, she doesn't," Sasuke leaned forward, eye to eye with Naoya, whose scowl resembled Sasuke's expression. "Don't force it. And must know why you like her."
Naoya's motivation filled him with zeal and urgency. "I want to chase her because I like her, I like her because she is very kind. Wanna show her that I'm better."
Sasuke hummed, eyeing the glass globe with music chiming in that. "Chase? Might work but only if you are not overbearing."
"Yes, duh." Naoya rolled his eyes at Sasuke. The urge within Sasuke to throw the brat was palpable. Hinata's gasps turned to bubbling giggles. "How to chase?"
"I don't know. Never chased anyone," Sasuke confessed. Naoya was left boggled. Hinata wanted to step in between them and put a pause to a conversation that was leading to a never-ending debate. Before her, Sasuke added, "Compliments can work. Nice words."
Naoya watched him with rapt interest for a minute. Hinata's gentle smile threatened to spill over at the silent staring exchange. "Define Hinata-san," Naoya tapped his forehead as he asked. His blue eyes were wide and assessing.
"She's.. kind." Sasuke gulped, his eyes darting towards the doorway, behind which Hinata was hiding. She crossed her arms on her chest, narrowing her eyes, her Byakugan clearing her vision as her sight zeroed in on him, expecting him to continue. "Calm as well. She has lots of strength, she is innocent," she could see the tightness in his jaw and the nerve popping on his neck. "She is a good cook. She cares for everyone. An idiot …I mean, she takes care of everyone but herself." Hinata felt the weight settling deep into her abyss, "She is friendly. She is compassionate, emotional and…warm. But she is very stubborn, challenging…"
"Okay," Naoya hopped off the chair and uttered. "I memorized; Kind, warm, friendly, stubborn, idiot, strong and motherly?"
Hinata squeaked when Sasuke smacked his face. He gruntled, "Hey! Don't call anyone an idiot or stubborn—"
Naoya whined, his hands on his hips, his glare unaided but stinging towards him, "But you called Hinata-san—"
Sasuke said flatly, "Because we are grown-ups."
"Naoya!" Hinata emerged out of her hiding, exhausted yet entertained by the peek of a Sasuke the world would never believe existed.
"Hinata-san, just heading to bed." He scurried back to the rooms upstairs, without even waiting to see the reaction from her.
Hinata heaved a sigh, turning to Sasuke. "So…" he arched a brow, "You argued with a child about how handsome you are?" She raised her hand to set the hook of his cloak which was skewed, dangling to one side.
He peered down at her, "I had to humble him. His arrogance about his looks needed some help," he spat dismissively.
"And you're not arrogant about yours?" Hinata drew the button tighter, he craned his neck upwards to feel the icy comfort slithering up his neck.
Sasuke swatted her hand from the collar and readjusted, loosening it by one hook, "I possess the facts to back up my claims."
Hinata responded, amused, memories flashing across her brain, "Yes, those girls you used to ignore so royally."
He teased, "Except one."
Hinata feigned unawareness, "The one after a loser?"
He hummed a response.
Hinata walked towards the door, grabbed the bag and slung it over her shoulder. "You told him to act like he doesn't care?"
He followed behind her, his steps hurried to match hers, "I took back my statement."
She asked, curious, "Isn't he like you?"
Sasuke shot down the prospect, "He got the looks only. I wasn't a desperate lovesick puppy though "
Hinata thought deeply. Her musings were nerve-wracking, "Perhaps if you had lived your life without trauma…then maybe you would have turned out like this."
The air stilled.
The noises around them shattered into a quietude.
He nodded and walked side by side with hers. His arm brushed against hers. Her breath stilling within her. His forest scent, clean and earthy, clung to her. Even her hair smelled like him, she could inhale the scent of earth, the scent of life when the chill air ruffled her hair and stray strands whipped at her face.
Sasuke chipped in, "I still don't see myself chasing anyone."
"Of course. Your pride," Hinata mocked, stifling a squeaky laughter bubbling.
Sasuke shot back, she could hear the smile in his tone, "And your stubbornness."
She glanced over her shoulder. His stare was already locked on her. She explained, her voice dipping low, "I might be an idiot and a challenging person but I am not stubborn."
Sasuke stood on his stance, she wanted to ask why, "You are."
Hinata clutched the handle of her bag draped over her shoulder, pulling the bag tighter around her. "I am not."
Sasuke looked ahead, his eyes exploring the cobblestones beneath their feet. She was determined to make him believe her, "You are."
She pouted, her cheeks puffed, the blush creeping higher on her cheekbone and the chill made her hair stand on her nape as she almost stomped her foot, "No, I am not."
"See…how stubborn!" he turned to her, pointing a finger at her.
"You don't—"
Sasuke chimed in, "But I like it when you're stubborn." With that finality, Hinata ducked her head and began to move alongside him, their steps rhythmic and in sync.
Hinata's smile turned wide. All the Uchiha seriousness that steamed through his veins began to falter from him day by day as Hinata continued to explore Sasuke. The impenetrable mask that he donned over himself cracked.
Perhaps if Sasuke had the luxury of a normal life then he would have definitely turned out to be a completely different person. Perhaps the little glimpse of his light-hearted and engaging side was the Sasuke who couldn't live in the world in his teenage years because he was burdened by the very world that was supposed to nurture him.
And now that he was lost yet cleansed, he began to seek normalcy. Hinata's sidelong gaze lingered on him as he dropped her back to the Uzumaki residence, her home.
An unusual longing throbbed within her when she stood in the hallway of her home, amidst the walls closing in on her and enveloped in a silence that bit on her.
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Spring had unfurled its gentle touch over Konoha.
The Annual Cherry Festival had arrived, painting the village in the hues of soft pink and warm gold. Hinata grounded her feet on the grass as the gust of warmth fluttered around her, carrying the scent of sweet blossoms. Looking around, Hinata's heart thrummed at the delicate scenery—the one azure sky darkening into twilight, the lanterns glowed brighter strung across the village, twinkling and swaying in the evening breeze, couples and their kids sat on their mats with food under tall blooming trees.
Hinata walked side by side with her sister who skipped ahead, holding hands of her two children with beaming eyes locked onto the items that enticed them. Boruto's attention was fixated on the game stalls that lined the roads while Himawari's mouth salivated at the delicious delicacies sizzling with fire and spices.
Sudden chaos rang in the air as children weaved through the crowd to run towards the sun of Konoha—her husband, who stood under the tallest and the most dense cherry blossom tree, his cloak set in on his frame with accurate precision, his chin raised high as he looked over the crowd with gleaming eyes that resembled the sky.
Boruto was handed a paper mask and a pinwheel by Sarada, he yanked his hand away from Hanabi, sticking his tongue out, and rushed ahead, following his friends. Himawari cheered and chimed when Inojin ran towards her in a blur, carrying the skewers of dango, dripping with sweet sheen.
Hinata breathed, the smile erupting unwittingly on her face as the happiness of her children consumed her chest, beating in her heart.
Traditional tunes of music strummed by the musicians on the side, branches of tree stretched wide overhead, mapping a pink and white canopy. Hanabi's constant noise was blurred for Hinata as she walked ahead with her billowing Kimono, purple and gold, catching eyes of many women around her.
Her cheeks flushed.
"Is that Uchiha-sama?" Hinata paused finally at one of Hanabi's many ramblings.
"Where?" Her body shifted to Hanabi. Her sister gave her a drawled look and then again darted her eyes at the distance.
"No. That man had both of his arms." Hanabi's face lit up with a teasing smirk, Hinata sighed and lowered her gaze.
She sighed, "Behave, Hanabi."
Hanabi unlooped her arm from Hinata's, the fabric of her Kimono crinkled with the harsh tug, she smoothened the lines on her arm with a soft pat, listening to her sister, "You were not listening, but the moment I mentioned your gift-giver friend of a rival clan, you finally responded."
"He is not from a rival clan, Hanabi," Hinata berated. "The ideologies of the past have no place in the peaceful present." Hinata looked around—the wave of peaceful serenity settling in everyone with the fleeting pleasure of pink petals dancing in the air and landing on cupped hands, stiff shoulders and whipping hair. The lanterns gleamed with pink tint as the gust of wind carried the spiralling petals like a storm in the air and reaching to the sky, sticking to the lights coiled around the tree branches.
Her focus was relishing in the scenery, barely taking a step forward with her eyes on the path ahead. She collided with something firm—someone. A low squeak escaped her mouth as she felt the warmth wrapped around her wrist, steadying her from stumbling backwards. She blinked up, a surprise slithering up her spine as the mismatched eyes peered down at her.
The soft lights reflected over his paleness, shadowing over the hard angles of his jaw and neck, gliding down the slope of his nose and deepening the colour of his Rinnegan. His face was a mere inches away from her, she shrunk within his space; consciousness dripping over her like small droplets pelting and reminding her to move away.
The moment had its breath hitched. The noise of the festival began to dull, the lights overhead softened and the rustle of the wind whipping through the trees melted into her ears, like a distant melody.
She looked at the slow drifting petal landing on top of his hand, slipping down and weaving through his dark locks falling over his eyes. His grip on her hand slackened, she lifted her hand to pick up the pillowy petal and at the same moment, she breathed heavily as his finger tugged at one of her flowy hair strands.
Their faces brightened up with surprise at their mirroring action, then she noticed a rare and amused glint of softness draping over his face. Her mouth parted, yet no words came out. She heaved a sigh as she plucked the petal, and so did he. Their delicate grip over the petals as they held their hands between them with a crooked smile stretched over their lips. Hinata blew over the petal on her palm and it drifted in the air, swirling up in the air and then vanishing, she could feel the heated stare of Sasuke.
Sasuke's eyes flickered over her, dipping down from the paleness of her face to the slope of her neck, roaming over the purple draped over her and shimmering under the light. A small, imperceptible but profound smirk made its way to his lips. Hinata could read the satisfaction mingled with pride mapping on his face.
His voice was low, "It suits you."
She avoided his eye as she blurted, "Thank you."
"So you did accept my apology," he cocked his head to the side as he whispered. The thought formed in his head unbidden, Hinata could read the lines marring his forehead as his words tumbled out.
She whispered, "I did."
A subtle clearing of throat drew them away from each other, they both stepped back as if a fire erupted between them, burning them. Hinata was more hurried in her movements, avoiding the questioning pale eyes of her sister flitting between Hinata and Sasuke with a frown on her lips.
"Uchiha-sama," she greeted, more like a warning. Stern and low.
He shot back, "Hyuga…sama." Loud and curt.
"Nee-chan, we have some games to win." Hanabi's eyes were warring with Sasuke's dismissive stare, but her words were commanded towards Hinata, who was standing away with her hands in front of her, fiddling, head downwards.
Hinata was not aware of the heated tension creeping on her, but she had her heart palpitating, thrashing against her ribcage. Hanabi linked her arm with her, tugging her away. Hinata trailed behind her sister, huffing to stabilise the shortness of breath.
Hanabi's wary voice began, "Nee-chan—"
Hinata couldn't hear whatever festered inside her sister's perceptive mind, "We should get some handmade jewellery," Hinata lifted her face, schooling her expression into nothingness.
Hanabi paused, blocking her as she tugged her arm off her sister's and folded her arms across her chest, musing, "I understand that Naruto and you are struggling but—"
Hinata squirmed, perturbed by the mention of her husband who was entertaining the esteemed clans and guests from other villages, accompanied by the pink-haired Kunoichi who was representing the highly-revered medical problem that Konoha had just launched, "Hana, why are we talking about this?"
Hanabi reached out to hold her wrist, where the ghost of another grip had left its ashes; a touch more callused and searing than her sister's. She spoke, her emotions warred with the sensations bubbling within her at the unknown implications of her sister, "I want you to be careful. Do not make decisions that will hurt you."
Hinata felt the quiet anger simmer beneath her surface, "I am living a decision that hurts me."
Hanabi nodded, "I understand—"
Hinata quipped back, stern tone rattled the lax body language of her sister, "No, you don't. So, let's end this conversation!" Hanabi knew better to not question when her soft-spoken sister had squared her shoulders, jaw set and eyes trained to pierce through the steeled resolve.
With that, Hanabi sighed at the barrier she hit with Hinata. Both the sisters walked ahead, the surrounding which had faded before, began to seep back in and pulse around them.
.
.
.
Hinata strode hand in hand with her husband, nodding and smiling at the guests who were interested in meeting the wife of Hokage, the daughter of a Hyuga clan and the former shinobi of a leaf village.
But not Hinata.
Her hand felt the slickness of sweat between hers and Naruto's hand, she looked at their intertwined fingers and the way both of their hands fit together, as if made for each other.
She snickered at the absurdity of her careening thoughts.
Naruto snapped his head towards her, eyes laser-focused on her, blue and bright, his tanned skin glowed under the flickering lights. "What happened, Hinata-chan? Do I look funny?" He rubbed the back of his neck and a sheepish grin sparkled into his face as he shrunk back into his shell.
Hinata shook her head. "Not at all. I just thought of something funny."
He squeezed his hand holding hers, pulling her close to him, pecking her at the side of her head."The council members from Ame seem interested in your Orphanage work, I'm proud of you." Hinata flinched.
You never visited the orphanage, Naruto.
"Hm." She nodded, "The hospital is expanding, Sakura-san and Shikamaru-san have done a tremendous job." With no malice, she expressed. Despite the strain on her heart, she couldn't appreciate the hard work that went into bettering Konoha's hospital, possibly the mental health wing for Shinobi. "You were involved in that too, it was your effort as well. I appreciate that our systems are gearing towards seeing shinobi as humans as well," she finished.
Naruto's face lit up with stars sparkling in his eyes, his voice carried a lilt of happiness. He chirped, "Exactly. That's how Sakura-chan thinks. She aimed to have our generation as the last one to suffer from the consequences of the shinobi world…" his shoulders squaring and his chest puffing in pride, his gaze wandered towards his other side where Sakura and Shikamaru seemed enveloped in a deep discussion with a guest from Suna, accompanied by Temari.
Hinata noticed the longing coming over his expression like a wave thrashing against the shore and then the sun-lit exuberance emerged, as the tide receded.
Hinata stiffened at the familiar voice, she turned to find her father walking towards them, his white robes standing out against the burst of pastel colours around them. Her father's even voice boomed, "It was a noble thought from Haruno-san." Hinata bowed to her father, his weary eyes reflected an emotion she couldn't process. "This festival has a long-standing history for Konoha, we always bear good news for the world and reflect Konoha's endurance. I believe we have done a favour for the Shinobi world with the expansion of our hospital's facilities."
Naruto nudged Sakura at his side, reminding her to greet the Patriarch of the Hyuga clan praising her. Naruto added, "Yes, Indeed we have."
"Hyuga-sama," Sakura bowed.
Her father said, his voice carrying an honest admiration as the love and respect he possessed for his village knew no bounds. "I congratulate you for finishing the much-needed project for Konoha's medical advancement."
Hinata saw the crimson-shaded awe sweeping on her face. She ran a hand along her hair as she took the compliment, "I'm thankful for the praise, Hyuga-sama. Hyuga clan's support through funding and human capital has been notable. Even Hinata makes my life easier when she volunteers at the hospital, her expertise has been groundbreaking for us." Sakura gestured towards Hinata and her eyes crinkled as a big smile erupted on her face.
Hinata sank under the pressure of pleasantries and praises directed at her. Her father's stoic mask cracked as pride flickered in his eyes. Hinata shyly bowed towards Sakura. However, her husband's eyes remained unwavering at the best medic-nin of Konoha, his attention didn't shake away from her.
The softness in his gaze spoke in volumes. That look stretched a chasm between them even more. That look spoke of yearning for something...or someone unattainable. All of it struck at her chest as if she was daggered by the sharp kunai.
Her assessing eyes and her winding thoughts crumbled her core, her resolve and her patience. Her father's perceptive look read the unreadable pain etched on the paleness of his daughter's face and his exhale made Hinata shift on her spot. His surveying eyes landed on her husband with quiet scrutiny.
The air thickened, despite the laughter and chatter blending around them.
"Grandfather!" Her daughter's excited voice cut through the budding tension blanketing over them. She launched into her grandfather's arm, he caught her with practised ease and a smile felt volcanic on him.
"Our princess is growing," he settled her in his arms and remarked with no real complaint.
Himawari giggled. Naruto's attention finally wavered and drifted towards them. Hinata sighed and swallowed the hurtful lump lodged in her throat. She resorted to keeping her focus on her daughter and the happiness weaving through her. Himawari snaked her tiny arms around her grandfather's neck and squealed, "Mommy is making me eat vegetables. I am going to grow strong like Daddy."
Naruto gushed, he leaned forward to pat his daughter's head and ruffled her hair.
His father questioned, finally voicing out the real purpose of his attempt to make a conversation where he usually wouldn't. "Haruno-san, I believe our councilman's son, Jiro, is fairing well under your guidance." Jiro was the rebellion in person, his actions were against every rule of the Hyuga name. He possessed the extraordinary talents for healing, hence, as per Tsunade's opinion, her father had allowed him to work with Sakura.
"He is a talent." Sakura sighed, "Needs a little more discipline." Her father nodded in agreement. "It's Uchiha, Sakura Uchiha now," she corrected him, her tone respectful but firm.
Hinata felt Naruto's grip on her hand tightened inadvertently. Hinata's eyes watered, either with the coldness of the wind as the night began to deepen or with the venomous tug at her heart.
Hanabi emerged from behind her father, her question directed towards Sakura, "Where is your husband, Uchiha-san?"
"Uh…he is usually not a festival person, so he must be around…" Sakura stepped back, her eyes roaming at the distance, attempting to find the man who hid in the shadows.
"They're dancing like mad men," Naruto toppled forward with a burst of piercing laughter, pointing at the distance with Chouji and Kiba engaged in a thumping dancing battle. "Shika already left our side, when did that happen…" Naruto looked around, raising his eyebrows and then Sakura smacked at his arm.
Sakura chuckled, "He is never around when his wife shows up!"
"Weak!" Naruto shrugged, a smile and a look shared between him and Sakura, as if they celebrated an inside joke without anyone knowing…as if they beamed, without needing anyone to share their light…in their sacred, intimate space.
Naruto announced, "Let's go and give them the competition!" His hand left hers instantly as he dashed ahead, grabbing Sakura's arm to drag her with him towards the bustling crowd and they weaved through the crowd with their hands in each other and big grins spreading across their faces. Hinata turned away and glanced at the unamusing ground, the green of the grass darkened under the fallen night.
Hinata stood at her spot with her heavy heart dropping into her stomach. Her eyes deepened and darkened with the glaze of stinging tears threatening to burst out and slip down her face. But she exhaled through her nose and then sucked in a sharp breath, silencing the tempest rumbling within her.
She grounded her feet harder on the ground, the grass crunched under her assaulting pressure and then she sharply swivelled.
"Nee-chan!" Hanabi's voice rang out.
But with hard and measured steps, she dashed towards another side of the festival—away from the pulsating music, the blaring steps of people dancing and the smell of spices and meat wafting in the air.
She threaded through the crowd, her steps hurried and her eyes teary. She felt the throbbing intensify behind her eyes and pounding at the back of her skull. The hollowness in her existence felt profound, something yet again broke inside her as if it waited for any round of misery to suck out whatever patience remained within her.
Empty. She felt empty.
Despite the warmth in the chill of the wind, she felt the whipping air nip at her flesh. The lights that felt soothing to her an hour ago began to prickle at her senses. The people slammed into her as she made her way out of the throng of people grating at her already fired-up nerves.
The gnawing ache settled into her veins.
She gasped, her chest heaving up and down as she held the trunk of the tree and breathed in and out, leaning forward.
"Hyuga…"
She was startled, recoiling a few steps aback at the sudden call of her name. She was slammed against something hard and rippling—a familiar heat emanated from the body pressed against her back.
"Where are you running off to?" Sasuke's deep voice reverberated through her as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. She shivered and clutched the sleeve in the nervousness kicking inside her. She felt the glowering heat press down on her bare nape and the shrill and searing
He clicked his tongue, "You dirtied my gift too, Hime." Hinata felt the jolt shaking her. She immediately dropped her head, raking her eyes over her dress and her face fell at the brown marks at the hem of the dress.
She turned around sharply. Her eyes flickered up at him, her frown deepened and guilt crossed across her gaze. "I'm sorry, Uchiha-san—"
Sasuke leaned his side at the rough branch, petals showering down at him, slipping down the black haori he donned. He drawled, "It's your gift, you can do whatever you want—"
Hinata shook her head, her fingers picking at the Obi tied under her chest. She mumbled, regret swimming in her thoughts, "But it's valuable. Expensive and exclusive, I should have been cautious—"
He shrugged, grumbling, "I can buy you many more, stop wallowing now!"
Her eyebrows knitted together. Her breath hitched at the dismissive way he swatted his hand in the air. "Are you looking down at me by bragging your wealth—"
"Yes, looking down at you," he murmured, leaning forward and then ducking his head to match her eye level. His warm and smokey breath fanned across her mouth. "Only because you are short," he chuckled.
She huffed, "I am not short." His jaw twitched as he suppressed a smirk, "You're just too tall," she almost whined, he nodded as if he was entertaining a child's rambling and then flicked her forehead.
He countered, "Maybe."
She absently added, "You smoked." Then she bit the inside of her cheek at the intrusive thoughts spilling over. "I m-mean…"
"I did."
He fished out another cigarette, twirling it between his fingers before dangling it tauntingly in front of her. His sharp gaze caught the way her eyes widened, how irritation darkened her delicate features.
A slow smirk tugged at his lips—just as she lunged.
Like a predator zeroing in on its prey, she moved fast, fingers clawing at the air between them. But he was quicker, recoiling with practised ease, stepping back as he raised the cigarette high, just out of reach.
She stood on her toes, stretching, her frustration palpable. He watched with a drawn-out look, barely suppressing his amusement as she struggled, her determination flaring in the heat of the moment.
"Give it back," she demanded, voice tight.
He tilted his head lazily. "Make me."
She settled down, backing away from him, "Uchiha-san…not today, please."
He brought his hand down, asking, "What?"
Hinata commanded, her voice laced with firmness, "Don't smoke today."
He deciphered the tone, polite yet firm, directed at him and asked again, getting on her nerves, "Why?"
She rationalised, that his scent was always overpowered with pine and smoke, Hinata's mind often melted and buzzed with the way the scent cut through every sweetness around her. "You burn chakra within you to heal yourself daily to keep yourself healthy but refuse to leave this habit."
He moved forward towards her, saying, "It's helpful." He tossed the cigarette and stepped on it, crushing it under his force. "But if your medic-nin's eyes know that I'm healed internally, then what's the point."
She hummed softly, resting her head against the rough bark of the tree. The coarse texture scraped against her hair, grounding her in the moment. "It's like a drug for you," she murmured, watching him beneath her lashes.
He snickered dryly, "Everyone is drugged on something—"
She had the courage to often interrupt whenever he spoke, "You'll always have your arguments ready."
"I listened to you, Hime." He gestured toward the crushed cigarette, its remnants broken and scattered in the dirt. "I won't smoke today. That enough to make you happy?"
"Hm," she nodded, her eyes softened. She caught the stiffness of his shoulder dissipating. Somehow, the lightness followed her too and absorbed into her limbs. The crashing and tumbling emotions she suffered were a distant noise, the presence of Sasuke had uprooted that pressure from the core of her being. "I am leaving—"
"No." He denied, leaning away from the tree and reaching out to hold her wrist. She opened her mouth to protest but his strong grasp on her wrist, branding a mark on her skin, kept her words at bay. "I've got something to kill you with."
Hinata was led through yet another daunting crowd. However, her body was now at ease, the people slamming into her didn't make her want to claw her flesh, and the chatter of nonsensical dullness of life was amusing, not mind-splitting. Her aches settled into her bones and began to numb.
Sasuke breathed a sense of contentment into her with his unusual air of dismissive attention. Her thoughts came to a halt as he pulled her near the stall of an eatery. The smell of sweetness; sugar, cream and cinnamon, calmed her senses. Her eyes glittered at the sight of Cinnamon buns lined up behind the glass counter. She turned her head to the left and found the steady gaze of Sasuke on her.
Sometimes Sasuke had watched her as if she remained only in the wreckage of his world, amidst the burning, amidst the crumbling.
And that's how he looked at her then when her eyes carried a sheer display of gratefulness towards him. The cracks beneath which the real Hinata hid, he always punched through those relentless boundaries with his unyielding force and saw her.
He was yet again…seeing her.
She didn't quiver at the depth of his look. In fact, she…tilted her head and assessed the hills of his cheek tinted with faint color.
Her being relished in the abstract notion of care. It was something that she had lost way too many times to even believe in anymore.
Yet…The man from the shadows, the man who was known to be distant and stern…the man who was regarded as God, was simply a man who cared.
Cared enough to drag her towards something that could cut through the sourness of her mood.
A pang of unbidden sadness twisted in her chest, agony rolling off of her in waves…the thought of the absence of someone who should have cared...the thought of her husband who was around somewhere, relishing in the peace someone else offered to him.
A humourless snicker escaped her mouth at the unusual realization of both of their lives turning stagnant with each other, yet rushing with other people.
His posture turned rigid at her unwavering attention instead of a reaction to the food. She blinked in surprise, pulling herself out of a train of miserable thoughts.
"Ah—" she breathed.
The tense line of his shoulder slumped as he spoke, "Go ahead. This is your way of killing yourself right…sugar." His distaste curled his lips as he pointed towards the delicacies.
Hinata licked her lips. She mumbled as her eyes savoured the sight of sweetness glazed over the buns, "You are a hater—"
Sasuke raised his hand and gesturedtwoat the shopkeeper with his fingers, dropping a few currency notes into the payment jar. He then shifted closer to her, and their arms brushed against each other. He tilted his head towards her, speaking as they waited for the shopkeeper to pack her meal, "There are better ways to kill yourself than this, Hyuga."
"Like?" Hinata pouted.
He hummed then spoke flatly, "Chidori. Amaterasu. Genjutsu. Fireball Jutsu and many more—"
She took the bag from the shopkeeper and chuckled as she dug in the bag, "You are not funny,"
"I know." He shrugged, "but you laughed." His dark eyes flashed with an unsaid pride.
Forgetting the shattering weight of the night, Hinata sat on the bench beside Sasuke. Her legs grazed against his, and she flinched but the way he didn't back away or glance towards her with any disdain, she sucked in a soft breath and eased into the space.
Her pain morphed into nothingness as they settled into a moment. She tore the bag, pulled out one of the cinnamon buns and took her bite, the creamy taste melting into her mouth and eliciting a taste-driven hum out of her.
He shook his head, his judgement of her bothered her.
She, with her mouth full of goodness, shoved the bun at his mouth, the dusted sugar rubbed against his chin and he winced and recoiled with a groan. Hinata nudged Sasuke with a mouthful lof aughter.
He wiped his chin with the back of his hand and grunted, "You are annoying when it comes to sweets."
Hinata shoved the bag in his lap while savouring the sugary taste lingering in her mouth. She shrugged, "You befriended me knowing that."
He denied, "No, I thought you were a quiet mouse. You turned out to be a snappy little sugar-loving insect."
Her heart fluttered. All the resentment from the evening drowned in the laugh that escaped her mouth. All the anguish she carried like a sacred curse over her, was lost. She cocked her head to the side and whispered, "You are a poet."
The moment that drained away her ache was knocked over by the familiarity of reality launching towards her.
"Hinata-chan," her husband came with a long and purposeful stride and called out to her, waving at her with glee shining in his grin. Beside him, Sakura and Hanabi strolled. Behind them, her father towered.
"We have been looking for you!" Naruto leaned forward, holding his knee as he gasped for air. Sweat clung to his forehead and trickled down the slope of his nose.
"Why?" Hinata grabbed the bag from Sasuke's lap and tossed her half-eaten bun in the bag.
Naruto straightened up. He pulled the flaps of the cloak and readjusted. "Hanabi told me that you wanted to have the barbecue and dance…"
Hinata shot a glare towards Hanabi who immediately turned her head towards the sky as if revelling in the shower of petals. Her father's gaze on her grounded her, dampening the unflinching anger flaring inside her.
Keeping her mouth shut, she rose from the bench, lifted the bag of her sweet delicacies, and dangled them in the air. "I ate." Her refusal cut through the air. The tone of finality was bitter. Naruto held his breath. She could see his jaw tensing and the light snuffing from his beaming eyes.
Silence dawned upon them. Hinata's heavy breathing was the only faint noise.
Hinata couldn't feel anything but suffocated among the people with prying eyes. Her brows drew together in quiet annoyance. A throbbing headache began to form behind her eyes.
"Hinata—" Naruto began, stepping closer to her but she chose to retreat.
The sheer repulsion was loud. She looked over Naruto's shoulder and regarded her father carrying a dozed-off Himawari in his arms, "I'm leaving, I can carry her home."
Her father was assertive, "We will bring Himawari and Boruto." Hanabi nodded. Sakura moved towards Sasuke who was sitting on the bench, rigid and eyes focused on a distance far away.
"Alright. Enjoy the night." She turned sharply. But her wrist was caught in a strained grasp. She glanced over her shoulder, finding Naruto lingering behind. She yanked her hand away from his grip as if the briefest contact left her with something unpleasant, something scorching. "I am leaving."
The emptiness of her eyes carried a barely contained vexation. Naruto sighed, stepping back as he knew Hinata was determined, and nothing could sway her.
She left everyone behind as she walked away, carrying her dignity with fraying threads. The menacing urge to leave a sting on Naruto far worse than anything she had to tolerate was creeping up on her.
.
.
.
Sasuke felt the tension in the air charging up as Hinata retreated from Naruto's grasp with a harsh tug. He felt the bench creak as Sakura dipped beside him, rubbing her hand on his thigh and blinking up at him, "Are you okay?" The way Naruto's unbearable scent clung to her, irritated him to the core.
He turned his head towards Naruto, stared at him with a pointed look and saw the colour draining from his best friend's face. Hanabi's disapproval visibly hung on her expression which aimed to choke the life out of Naruto.
Hiashi's perplexed thoughts rolled off him in intensity, his grip over Himawari tightened as he gritted his teeth and his pale gaze landed on Naruto like a whip.
"Why are you glaring at me, Teme?" Naruto whined.
Sasuke groaned and rose from the bench, craning his neck to ease the knots of pain settled into his shoulder blades. "Shut up."
Sasuke began to follow the path that she had walked with such excruciating affliction weighing her down. The happiness that flooded her being was snatched away with such cruelty, causing an enervating wave of mellowness in the surroundings.
The chatter was left behind, faded in the distance. But Sakura trailed behind him, her steps were thumping on the ground as she called out for him. "Sasuke-kun," her voice dipped.
Sasuke paused.
He turned around to face her.
He grunted, "What is it, Sakura?"
Sakura leaned forward, smoothening the crinkles on the Haori. Her eyes fluttered as she looked up at him through her long lashes, "You look pissed? You didn't even spend time with me—"
A taste of soundless chafe simmered on his tongue as he spat, "Pissed? Spend time with you? You didn't seem to need me Sakura." He dragged himself away from her, stepping back.
Sakura frowned, her voice croaked at the edges when she urged, "How can I not need you?"
Sasuke hissed, "I don't know…by being with Naruto the entire time—"
Her cheeks turned faint red as she let out a fluttering laugh, intertwining her fingers together at the front and shifting in her spot as giddiness ran up her nerves. "Sasuke-kun is jealous?"
Sasuke had to restrain the rage bubbling under his calm facade. "I am not jealous. I'm simply stating the truth. There wasn't any space for me or Hinata—"
Sakura's expression shattered. Her voice turned meek as she defended, "We are a team, Sasuke! There is always a space for you—"
Sasuke gritted his teeth, his voice was frigid. Sakura was taken aback by the icy cold glare, "We didn't come here as teams, we came here as individuals with family. Everyone wanted to be with their family—"
Sakura interrupted, he winced, "That is why I'm sad that we didn't get to spend time—"
Sasuke ran his palm on his face, rubbing away the infuriating irritation mapped on his expression. Tucked in the corner of his mind, his rage began to pulse. He snapped, the crease between his brows deepening, "Think beyond yourself, Sakura. I couldn't give two shits about this damn festival, but I'm sure others did. I didn't want to dance or eat the damn barbecue meat or shop—"
Sakura's energy faltered, and her chakra rattled within her. "Are you talking about Hinata? She seemed pissed. So when Hanabi told Naruto that Hinata wanted to dance…we went to find her—"
Sasuke raked his hand in his hair and always clawed it out from its roots. He spat, "'We went to find her' are you hearing yourself—"
She sighed, looking away, "If you are angry at Naruto—"
He grumbled, "I'm angry at everyone. Even myself. But as usual, you won't understand. So leave it."
Without hearing another string of her protest, he vanished into the darkened path that led to her Uzumaki residence. His thoughts were grounding yet bothersome, his frustration was all over the place. He was disappointed in Naruto. He was angry at Sakura. He was annoyed with Hinata's anger. And with himself, he was…confused.
Bewilderment ran through him like a thread would weave through a cloth. His steps took him to his destination, yet the weight of his decision hung heavy on him, hovering like a shadow of disastrous poison.
The moonlight illuminated her balcony. His gaze shifted towards it to find the speck of her chakra, to gauge if she was alright. Across from her balcony, beneath the streetlamp, a weathered bench sat in solitude, Sasuke halted there and sat. From his spot, he watched.
Hinata in her sleep-dazed state stumbled into her balcony, sadness pressing down her shoulder visibly. He saw her shrink and slip down, she crouched and curled into herself. The side of her head came to rest against the cold metal bar of the iron railing guarding the balcony.
Her muted heartbeats, he could hear.
Her dulling chakra, he could feel.
He sat there…unmoving, watching the night wrap around her, cradling her in a deep slumber.
.
.
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Hanabi pressed her feet on the ground with a hiss of breath. Himawari was in her arms with drool dripping from the corner of her mouth as she snuggled in her arms. The festival was silent, despite the music in the air and the chaos of people's celebrations.
"Naruto is far too careless." Her father caught up with her steps, carrying Boruto in his arms. She looked to the side and saw the flickering disappointment in his weary eyes, "Is he blind towards the sign of his own neglect."
Hanabi had nothing to offer to her father. She simply lowered her gaze, contemplating the grand love her sister used to hold with such tenderness in her eyes, in her smile and her heart.
Her thoughts began to stretch further, but something clicked unusually.
The spike of an unusual chakra near her sister's house made her halt. Her father, withering with age, stilled as his sharp senses caught the blaze of chakra looming ahead.
Without further wait, their Byakugan pulsated.
Their vision extended.
What she saw made her breath hitch, and her father's face flushed with befuddlement.
"Father…" she mumbled hesitatingly.
Their vivid vision of something puzzling unfolding before them shook them.
Hinata was asleep, her body slumped in exhaustion on her balcony and her head pressed against the railings. However, the volcanic and jolting chakra belonged to someone sitting on the bench across her balcony.
Him.
Hanabi had to bite back the grunt.
Sasuke leapt to the balcony.
Hanabi reached out to touch her father's arm, "Father, please—"
He curtly added, "I have to see."
Sasuke approached Hinata with ease as if lifting her in his embrace and cradling her weight was something he had done before.
Sasuke carried Hinata inside her room, the way he breached the sacred boundary of her room unsettled Hanabi. He set her down on the bed, crouching at the edge and removed her sandals then lifting her legs onto the bed. He leaned forward to remove the hairpin causing her discomfort and fluffed her pillow.
Hanabi almost choked on her own spit.
Then, he rose to leave but Hinata, half-lost in sleep, reached for him.
Hanabi's keen eyes almost wavered at the intimacy. She saw the expression of the Last Uchiha become solemn, unreadable and unreachable when her sister's hand curled around his wrist weakly but insistently.
The tension built up in his shoulders. Hanabi wished for any God above to crack down a lightning bolt in his sister's home so she could see everything splintered and electrocuted instead of all that—whatever that was.
Sasuke leaned down, he twisted his hand gently to pull it out of her grasp. He then tucked the loose strand of her hair away from her face.
His sister's expression softened.
Hanabi felt the bile rise in her throat. How could she explain that to her father who stared at the same intimacy?
Hanabi hoped that her father's byakugan had aged and blurred her vision.
But she knew that wasn't the case.
Her father watched everything.
Every movement, every twitch, every touch—he could see...with accurate precision.
Sasuke's hand brushed against Hinata's cheek, his fingers trailing just lightly...enough to be a whisper of warmth for her as Hinata snuggled under the blanket he draped over her.
He then recoiled as if burned. Wow, Sasuke Uchiha.
He instantly stepped back. Finally, Sasuke Uchiha.
Sasuke looked withdrawn. Still, confused, you idiot?
He bolted out of Hinata's room in a blur.
The speed with which even Byakugan couldn't read his movements.
Hanabi's eyes felt as if they had fought a battle for consecutive hours. They ached. "Please, do not ask me anything, Father," she mumbled, letting her words settle.
Almost in disbelief, his father asked, "Should I take up this matter?"
"I do not suggest this." She shook her head, "I doubt they know anything themselves. Nee-chan is at a place where her decisions have to be driven by her and her only."
Her father's annoyance flared. Hanabi knew if Hiashi Hyuga from decades ago had been the one by her side, watching all that unfold, the world would have been on the verge of destruction. But her father had learned patience. Fruratuk
But he sounded winded despite the restrained anger, "Even if the decisions are questionable? For a Hyuga—"
"She is not a Hyuga anymore. Let her find her footing in her life, the name of Hyuga shouldn't control her life. We are beyond the measly worries of the clan and its reputation." Hanabi had the urge to defend despite the self-destructive path of her sister, "Her happiness should matter more."
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AUTHOR NOTE:
Back-to-back TWO Huge updates! Aren't I too kind?
REVIEW AND FAVS ARE BREAD AND BUTTER FOR ME :) Keep them coming!
If you haven't checked out yet, I have another SasuHina fic titled, "Fated Promise" or "Twisted Paths"; you can give it a read too. Thanks.