Wilted Petals

by Purpleskiesupwards

Years after the war, during the time of peace, the four people who seemingly had turned their lives towards stability get wrecked with the onslaught of repressed emotions, unresolved issues, hidden secrets & lost love which change the lives of Sasuke & Sakura Uchiha and Naruto & Hinata Uzumaki. Bonds are strained, love falters, hearts get broken, marriages are at stake!

21. TOO LATE

CHAPTER 20: TOO LATE (SECOND ARC)

Chapter 20: Too Late

The ticking of the clock punctuated the stillness; a testament to the time passed, slipped off her grasp.

In the dreamless yet dazed state of waking up but doused in slumber; Hinata lingered in silence and stirred under her sheets.

Her thoughts possessed no sharp edges and reality hadn't settled in over her. She blinked slowly, adjusting to the warm light spilling into the room. With a sharp turn, she looked to her left. The sheets beside her were crinkled but cold, the imprint of a body almost faded.

The morning warmth pressed against her skin as she pushed aside the sheets. With a quiet sigh, she swung her legs off the bed and felt the floor beneath her feet; a mix of cold and heated.

The morning held nothing special; the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the curtains were fluttering with the gust of wind and Hinata was at the edge of the bed, hunched over, scrunching her eyes shut to absorb the sleep and the stinginess that came with the morning haze. She lifted herself off the bed and padded towards the bathroom, her slight glance darted towards the empty bed, but her heart didn't churn. Her throat didn't tighten. Her mouth didn't taste like sand. Her breathing wasn't uneven.

The emptiness didn't swallow her or submerge her in an ice bath.

She let the warm water slide down her body as she stood under a shower. Her thoughts began to melt with the heat of the water fogging the glass doors. Often her mornings had carried a sour taste, a shrill ache or a familiar panic coursing through her limbs but now…her jaw was not tense, her eyes weren't burning with tears, and her knees did not buckle under her weight.

With light fingers, she let the aromatic shampoo sink into her scalp, the soothing sensation hummed within the confined of her brain. Agitation bunched up in the nerves of her nape dissolved into nothingness as her hands worked up the muscles under the hot pouring.

The time ticked. Slowly. Easily.

The foam of soap swirled down the drain, leaving her skin soft, supple and clean. She grabbed the towel off the hook and wrapped it around her body. The drenched hair pooled over her shoulders and back, the cold droplets nipping at her skin.

The continuous shrieks and howls of Boruto did not echo in her house. And Himawari's kind sputtering about the new techniques hadn't been the morning chime for her.

Both of her kids weren't home.

Choosing to not dress up right away and relish the serenity of the morning, Hinata stepped downstairs. Her soft steps thudded on the floor, the floorboards creaked under her force.

Suddenly the silence broke.

Hinata stilled at the edge of the staircase, her hand shot up to grab the knot of the towel holding the towel together. The clinking of spoons against a bowl, the scent of something warm and buttery curled through the air and the frustrated grunts echoed.

Uchiha-san?

Her mind wadded through the ghost of memories of the last few days and the last few months. Sasuke's presence was a regularity, but it was never uninvited and never on Sunday as that was the day he dedicated solely to Sarada and his home.

Hinata's toes curled, her heartbeat accelerated and an anchor was dropped to her stomach, a weight that made her shrink on the spot. Her mind offered her to rush upstairs and dress herself appropriately.

She looked ahead to the space between herself and the doorway to the kitchen. She gasped and an unknown yet unwavering burst of excitement ran through her. She sucked in a sharp breath and with deliberate steps, covered the space between her and the kitchen.

As she stood at the archway to the kitchen, her eyes widened in shock and the gleam flickered away in an instant. The smile that had adorned her lips vanished into thin air as she tightly pressed her lips into a line. Her shoulders tensed, squared up. Her grip clasped the towel's knot tightly on her chest as she stared at the anomaly.

Her husband stood at the stove, his hair still tousled from sleep, his sleeves rolled up, a spatula in hand as he nudged a golden pancake onto a plate. The kitchen was a mess—bowls stacked haphazardly, flour dusted over the counter like fresh snowfall.

He snapped his head up to meet her gaze, and a smile erupted on his sun-kissed face as he said, "You're up!" There was a cheer in his voice. He continued to work his way around the counter as if it was normal.

But it was not! Her thoughts rebelled. Naruto's presence wasn't a regularity in her life anymore, he was not part of her mornings, he wasn't part of her lunches, he was barely a part of her dinners.

Hinata's gaze flickered to the table. Empty plates, half-drunk glasses of juice—evidence of a morning she had not been part of.

"I fed Boruto and Himawari before Hanabi picked them," Naruto continued, rubbing the back of his neck. "Figured I'd let you sleep in. You looked tired last night."

Tired.

She had been tired for years.

He realized it a bit too late.

Well, he has always been slow. Her mind rationalized.

Not in the matters he cared out, she retaliated, defending herself.

She spat, shocked and repelled by his presence, "What are you doing here?" His head held high, he sighed as he schooled his face turning from surprised to a set and confident mask.

He raked a hand in his hair and he gawked at her for a moment. Then a step forward, he circled the counter and neared her. Hinata felt the shiver run up her spine. He approached her with the glint of kind blue sparking in her gaze, his hand curled around her waist as he pulled her to press her against his chest. He mumbled, "Well, I've come to realize that Hokages also deserve a break on Sundays."

Her voice sounded muffled against his chest, she drawled, "Naruto—" His scent enveloped her, like a barbed wire bruising her.

Naruto's excitement surged, and his voice began to rise, "You like pancakes, right? Let's dig in—"

Hinata cut in, her voice stern and her face stoic, "Why?"

Naruto's eyes widened in befuddlement as he said, "Huh?"

She fidgeted in his embrace, his arm around her waist slackened so she stepped back, a safe distance between them. "Ever since we have come back from my father's home, you've been acting weirdly. Why?" Hinata locked eyes with him.

Naruto's smile almost faltered before he stepped into her space again, pressing his lips on her forehead and she flinched.

Cold.

It felt cold.

He mumbled, his lips grazing her forehead, "Weird? I'm making breakfast, Hinata. How weird can that be!" He snickered. His breath fanned across her face as he lowered his head and pecked her on her cheek. Hinata's hand pressed against his chest and she applied force as her breathing turned shallow.

"It is weird. You are hardly home these days." Hinata let the weight lodged in her chest sink to her core. "Is Sakura-san busy?" Hinata scoffed, turning her eyes away from his. "Oh yes, she is. She is gone to conduct the medical camps activity in Ame," Hinata answered herself.

Sakura went with her team right after their gathering at the Hyuga compound. And Naruto also began to be available affectionately ever since. Hinata had to swallow back the rage that filled her mouth, turning into piercing words.

Naruto's smile flattened. "What do you mean by that?"

A knot lodged into her throat as she spat, "Don't you know?" A snarling expression draped her features.

Naruto gulped. He exhaled a deep sigh, defending himself, "Hinata, I'm trying to—"

"You are almost a decade late!" Hinata snapped back. "You should have tried a long time ago. Now I'm tired of you and your sudden burst of love or care or pity or whatever this is!" She raged, "And try? Try? Is being a husband such a daunting task for you that you have to try for it?"

"Hinata—" Naruto cupped her face. His coarse hands, warmed by his blood, felt cold on her skin. His thumb caressed her cheeks with a tenderness that almost—almost—set her ablaze. But the fury simmering beneath her surface pulled her back, and she swatted his hand off her face.

She sneered. "What Naruto? Is this…" her hands flying in the air as she gestured at his newfound presence, "is this like before? When I was on bed rest and you were so guilt-ridden that you dedicated a whole month to me? Then vanished? Is this—"

Naruto held her arms at her sides and ducked his head, his sparkling eyes boring into hers and with some conviction gleaming on his face, he promised, "I'm trying to find my place here again, I know I've neglected you and my family…my responsibility, my duty as a husband—"

Hinata's voice broke, "Your place? How dare you assume that you still have a place here?" She squirmed away from his hold, stepping back. The engulfing presence he possessed suffocated her, her breathing faltered when his hand touched any inch of her skin. In agony. She remained breathless…in pain.

Despite the towel only covering her, her body felt as if it was set on fire. There was her suppressed anger bubbling within her. Hinata was there, in her body, yet she felt as if someone else resided within her. There was a weight smothering her existence, scorching her, bruising her. The weight that she wore on her ring finger. The weight of being an Uzumaki.

The flood of overwhelming emotions she had been shifting through slammed onto her. Her body was locked into a place. She sucked in a sharp breath, attempting to grapple with her life. Her body shook with fear, she let her heart thrash against her chest as she let the fear crawl up her spine.

What are you afraid of? she asked herself. Losing Naruto?

The sanest part of her questioned and questioned. The wondrous thrill of just cutting that fraying thread between them beckoned her. He wouldn't be the casualty, you are the casualty in the ruins of this marriage. Her voice bellowed.

Naruto's voice came off as if he pleaded, the ache punching him from inside was physical, she could see the hurt in the way his shoulders dropped and the colour drained from his face. "I want to make you happy again, earn my place here, Hinata-chan."

But Hinata chided, her tone curt, "You can't."

Naruto's gaze tore away from the ground and snapped up to hers, he retorted, surprised, "What?"

She paused. For a few minutes, she contemplated if setting the boundary once and for all was worth it. Her fists clenched at her sides, her nose flared. Anger and patience warred. Her patience was weary and her anger was surging.

She came out as brash and impulsive, her wide and pale gaze blared, "You can't make me happy anymore. You're late."

"Don't say this!" Naruto fisted his hair and growled.

Hinata snickered, amused at the way he turned red in fury, "Did I lie? Do you leave me with anything other than this? Sakura-san isn't in Konoha so you suddenly remembered—"

He leapt in to draw his guards up, as always. His response haunted in his eyes, "Sakura got nothing to do this with us—"

An unparalleled need to burden him with truth ravaged her soul. She rubbed her face, her muffled groans stirred him. She yelled, for the first time…she let him hear her, even if he did not want to, even if she didn't know how to, "You're such a coward! Such a coward! How dare you say that she got nothing to do with the way our marriage fell? But don't worry, I blame you way more than I blame her…it's been years—"

He punctuated his words, acknowledging something that tasted like blood on his tongue."Yes, Hinata. It's been years since that…that happened." He screwed his eyes shut, Hinata could see the busy club, thumping with music and glinting with neon lights, her husband and his best friend locking lips and savouring each other's taste, Hinata could see the flashback that flashed before his eyes too, "Sasuke came back! He is there for her. She and I are just friends!"

She stammered, "I d-do not care anymore." Her emotions tethered by her sanity began to crumble. Her sanity shrank and sank into the abyss of her brokenness.

Naruto argued, taking her hand gently in his, "But I care about this marriage—"

She lowered her eyes, staring at the bruised tanned hand enveloping her pale hand, the contrast was stark as if both the hands didn't fit each other, as if there was an instinct of pulling away from the grasp…as if the unity wasn't meant to happen. "Glad you seem to remember this almost a decade later—"

He glanced over at her, his eyes softened. After a contemplative silence, he mumbled, a weak smile tugged at the corner of his lips, "I'll keep trying from now, whether you like it or not—"

Hinata explained with her brow knitted and her face pale, "You'll stray. You won't even know but you will! That's the pattern." She let her words hang in the air. She didn't feel the need to cushion the impact of her words with any further clarification. She spoke her truth.

She spoke his truth.

Naruto tugged at her hand, pulling her closer to him again. He breathed in her scent with his eyes dazed. The sudden urge in his body to keep her close, to keep her clinging to him …frightened her. There was desperation in his touch. There was a need in his gaze. There was…effort in his words. "I won't. I have decided that I'd come around 10 pm, I'd visit the orphanage with you, we'd have family dinner somewhere nice on Sundays and after three months, we'd go on vacation—"

But his desperation was short-lived. His need was…misplaced. His efforts were fruitless.

Hinata choked out laughter.

Naruto felt as if he was slapped.

She held her stomach as a dry laugh echoed in the empty kitchen.

Hinata's finger repeatedly punctuated his chest. His hand trailed up from her wrist to her forearm and hooked on her elbow, pulling her closer. She bellowed, "This is something you used to promise me every time I'd raise my concerns about our distance. And then…in the past few years, you simply apologized and never promised any commitments of this sort. What happened now?"

He lowered his head, pressing his forehead against hers. "Your father knocked some sense into me."

"What?" She sounded amused more than shocked.

Hinata could feel the shiver coursing through him as he expressed, "He told me that I'm losing you—"

Love was always a notion for Hinata which heavily prioritized the absence. Hinata was drifting away from Naruto, each day…she was a step behind, yet Naruto could never hold her, he could never comprehend the distance stretching between them…until it was too late.

Hinata pushed back against him, and he staggered a few steps back, she held her hand to her chest and her mind wavered at the lingering heat of his grasp on her hand which stayed and began to feel warm.

She snapped, "While I was pregnant with Himawari, I had already told you that you're losing me and you're the reason—"

Naruto leaned back on the wall as if his life force dwindled. He craned his neck and screwed his eyes shut. He panted shakily, through his nose and huffed. He gritted, "He told me that you have stopped loving me."

Her father wasn't someone who believed in meddling, however, it was no surprise that his all-seeing eyes caught the chasm between his daughter and his son-in-law.

She rebuked, "And—"

He questioned lowly, "Have you, Hinata?" He sounded broken. He looked shattered. He looked like that blonde kid on the swing with teary eyes she used to peek at from the bushes. "Have you stopped loving me?" His blue eyes stared at hers, accusingly.

Vexation erupted within her. "Why was my father—"

Naruto grounded his feet harder on the floor, his chest heaving and his mouth curled into a sneer, "Answer me!"

She gritted her teeth. "You have no right to question me—"

He whined, "I deserve to know, I'm your husband—"

Like a volcano, she burst, "I deserved your love too. I deserved your time too. I deserved your loyalty too. But guess what, Naruto? We don't always get what we deserve in this world!" He stared at her with a long look, taking the slashes from her words with ease, not resisting yet bleeding.

He leaned forward and pressed his warm lips on her shoulder blade. She winced and he drew away, locking eyes with her, memorizing the unfamiliarity before him, "What do I do to make you look at me like you used to—"

Hinata steeled. "Stop chasing the impossible. I did too."

He broke, "Hinata—"

Perhaps in another life, Hinata could have tolerated it. "I stopped chasing you. You still remain unattainable and impossible to me. You still remain someone I can only admire from the far …but the worst part, I don't want to admire you anymore!" Her chest fell light.

He begged, "I love you."

She sobbed, tears still strained behind her cruel facade, "There was a time when I yearned to hear this from you."

He stepped closer, cupping her neck, his fingers rough yet fiery against her nape as he pulled her closer, confessing, "I always love you, there is no lie in this, I might have fucked up, Hinata-chan …in many ways, but my love for you—"

She unravelled the reality for him. "Your love for me is a figment of your imagination you believe and made me believe…but I'm off the ground, I'm not on my knees, begging for you to see me." She lifted her hand, grabbed his wrist and swatted his grip off her.

Ferocious anger bubbled within him. "Don't say this!"

She felt her throat close up. "It hurts." She choked out, "Your indifference, your absence, your lack of attention…everything still hurts, Naruto. But I'm tired of hoping for it to end with something fulfilling. Now… I'm waiting for it to just end!"

Naruto's brows furrowed, his eyes widened, the worry swam in them and they lost their usual glint. "What do you mean by that?"

"It means what it means! It's humiliating how you think that I wouldn't ever stop chasing you. I know it's hard when I make the mistake of concocting a life that revolves around you…but Naruto…It's getting easier…day by day." Her words whipped him like a cold leather belt, he flinched and coughed out.

"I won't let this break, I won't let us break—"

A cruel and bitter smile twisted on her lips. "You won't let us break?" She scoffed. "You broke us. And I've been holding onto the pieces of our broken love ever since you've stopped seeing me! Or perhaps, you never saw me in the first place."

Naruto had never learned to let go, it was ingrained in him to hold on to the fraying threads…despite everything. So, Naruto pushed himself, now…he was on his knees, begging her to allow him to see her. "I am sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I don't want to be the reason for your misery."

She blinked away the tears that slowly brimmed over her lashes. She protested, "But you are! You are!"

He powered through a shuddery breath. "Give me a chance…I'll make this right."

"You will, I'm sure. For a day. For two days. For a week. For a month. For a year maybe. But you will ruin it again! It's a cycle with you, I've been on this ride for the past eight years!"

The next few seconds were lost on him. He let the silence drive him. Then he spoke up softly, "I won't disappoint you." Redness clung to the corner of his eyes.

She felt her knees shake, her stance wobbly. She could feel the burning in her chest ceases to exist, reduced to an infinite void full of ashes.

She let him in, for a moment…for a second…for the last time, "Fine, I'll see. Just to amuse myself, I'll see."

Naruto firmly added, his gaze resolute, "I won't lose you."

There it was, her naked unbridled truth, thrown at him so casually…as if it mattered nothing to her. "You already have. My father was right." But it mattered to her so much. She had to claw the words out of her core, she had to swallow the shaky breaths, she had to numb herself to the ache slithering up her bones…she had to undress her love and bear the bruises on it to him, hoping that at least the blood spilt could make him see the damage he caused.

Distress shackled him. He sounded caged. Caged within his own delusions about the life he was living. "But you still love me, right? I can make you happy again!"

Hinata had been the master of the art of loving a man who couldn't give her back the same emotions, she had relied on the institute of love and the sanctity of a marriage—but the art consumed her, painted her in colours that shrouded her with nothing. Her naive heart believed that she could give forever, if not for her sake…then for her children's, but the heart beating in her chest couldn't just give only, it also needed something…someone.

Her raw emotions peeked through. "Love? Naruto, don't you hear me? Of course, you don't!" She laughed, bitterness creeping on her tongue. "I'm on the verge of giving up. My children are the only reason, Naruto. The only reason."

His eyes softened. His lips quivered. "I will make it up to you," he promised. She noticed the shake of his hands, the suppressed breathless gasps.

Hinata's curiosity was naked on her face. The rage subsided from her eyes for a flickering moment, sympathetic towards how he crumbled before her. She whispered, softly, like his Hinata used to be for him for years before she herself crumbled, "Why are you so scared?"

He tucked a damp strand of her hair behind her ear, his nerves outraged yet calm, his skin throbbing with heat yet coldness of his indifference. He mumbled, his tone low and soft as if pleading, "I don't want to lose my family, Hinata."

She asked, cocking her brow, "You don't want to be alone?" Naruto deserved to have people around, his childhood had been cruel to him. Hinata knew what he needed the most was…people. And that turned her into a stone, day by day because she gave him what he truly needed. Yet somehow…she was not enough.

She was his family. She was with him. She was never leaving him alone. She yearned for him.

But Naruto's yearning for her was short-lived…or perhaps, it was never there. Because Naruto never had to yearn for her, she—as humiliating as it was for her—always remained by his side, around him, for him. He could turn around and find her, he could snap his head to the side and have her clinging to his arm, he could be invisible and she'd still see him.

And losing all that…scared him. Hinata heaved a long sigh.

He looked away, his voice cracked, "Yes."

Hinata chuckled, her chest tightened, the hopes had already died but their remnants turned into ash…finally, "And I thought it was your selfless love for me that made you try again—"

Naruto defended as dread coiled around his throat, choking him. He muttered, "Of course, it's because of love—"

Danger. Hinata felt the danger of severing her ties. Yet her throat burned and dried up, the truth had been over the tip of her tongue for years, she let it tumble out, "You want to try again because my father made you realize that Hinata is not the Hinata from five years ago, she is unable to tolerate more and more everyday…and now…you also see that! And that scares you. Because now you can't take me for granted and still get to keep me and this facade of a marriage—"

His righteousness awoke, and he gulped down the disagreement. He shook his head frantically, "I never took you—"

Hinata screeched, almost stomping her feet on the ground. Tired. She was aching. "Please, just stop! Just stop lying! Your obliviousness has to end somewhere."

Naruto panted. His gaze hardened. The frantic pain etched on his features marred his beauty. Hinata had to bite back the sob at the displeasure. "You are misunderstanding me. You have taken distance from me, Hinata. Don't you realize that too?" he asked as if he was right.

And then he began to repulse her even more. Why! She wanted to yell.

Her low mumbled cracked out, and her weary heart began to wail, "Do you ever wonder why?"

Naruto heaved a sigh. He pressed his lips together, she could see the tense memories flooding his brain, offering him every moment where he faltered. His consciousness assaulted him, he doubted his own reason as he muttered, "Because I don't give my family any time?"

A small part of her roared. No! Every cell of her body growled. "Because you give someone else more time, more attention, more affection…than the ones who are your family. So, if …no, when you end up losing your family, don't you dare to blame us!"

Naruto groaned. His hand slammed on the wall to the side, the rumbling chakra clinging to his palm dented the wall. His frustration surged, "Drop the matter with Sakura, I know my fault at the cherry festival, I should have spent more time with you and taken you to dance and barbecue but it's not like you to feel insecure—"

She punched him in the middle of his chest. Her chakra flared on her knuckles, pressed deeper into his bone as he staggered back, the golden cloak began to form around him in his natural defence. The pang hit deep, and clawed at his chest, rendering him breathless for a moment.

She choked out, her stomach churning at the insinuation, "Insecure?" Her husband's perception of her was so flawed that it ripped her dignity apart.

Naruto shook his head. His gaze fell to the ground as he cursed under his breath. He breathed, "I didn't mean that—"

She seethed. "Is this how you are going to try?" She mocked. "If yes, then I have nothing more to say to you. Get out of my house, and take your breakfast with yourself." She raised her pointed finger at him and warned, her tears stung her eyes. She had been keeping them at bay for so long, but her heart felt the whip of his cruel words. Her head dipped and her bangs fell over her forehead, hiding the anguish welling up in her eyes.

He stepped back.

She still felt the weight of his gaze on her.

He stepped back again.

She released a sharp breath.

He turned on his heel and left, the door shut behind him with a soft thud.

The suffocating rope around her eased. The way she did not need to

Free. Free. Hinata dropped to the floor; a mess on the floor, a crumpled paper, a broken doll, a shattered glass.

Hinata had always believed that love was about patience and defying all the ugliness of life and circumstances and staying despite everything…but year after year, month after month, week after week, day after day…Hinata began to feel the illusion of patience warping into nothingness but darkness.

Naruto could have been her home; she longed for his shelter, for his embrace …for his warmth. He was an illusion she kept breathing in because no human could be a home, homes are constant …humans are more rivers, always flowing, always changing. And that's what Naruto was to her, a shimmering river.

Home?

Too late for her.

.

.

.

Sasuke stood before the wooden door. The light overhead flickered, dappling him with the dulled shadows. The warmth in the wind turned a little chill, and evening pressed on him as the bright sky above him faded, darkening with each passing second. The light hue of lilac on the sky, shadows of birds flying across, the faint shimmer of moon peeking through the clouds—the beauty reminded him of something…of someone.

His knuckles rapped against the door — sharp, deliberate and loud, resulting in silence. His eyebrows furrowed, and his jaw twitched at the unresponsiveness. He heaved a sigh as his senses began to sense the disrupted chakra, the familiar water-like chakra, disorientated and riled up. His hand clenched into a fist at his side.

Debating whether to knock again and rattle her awake or simply step off the porch and make himself scarce due to the perturbed energy charging the air—he knew the answer in his head. The ignorance grated on his nerves.

His Rinnegan throbbed as it pulsed to life, tearing the space in front of him, the air bending at his will, beckoning him to step inside and walk the darkened path leading to…the inside of her house.

The eerie glow ripping the space closed up behind him as he grounded his feet at the doorway of a familiar living room, steeped in silence and darkness. The silver glow of evening filtered through the curtains, shading the living room and illuminating the crouched frame on the couch.

Muffled sobs punctuated the silence.

Shrieks accompanied the snifling.

The scent of chamomile tea gone cold hung in the air. The abandoned tea cup rested over the low table, with a few splashes of the tea bubbling on the table as if carelessly handled.

Hinata sat on the corner of the sofa, knees drawn up to her chest and face almost buried in her knees while her arms looped around her frame, holding her pieces together. The cushions were askew, a blanket crumpled at the edge of the couch, slipping down to the carpeted floor.

Her shoulders trembled as whimpers slipped past her lips. Exhaustion was evident in the way her hair, unruly and unkempt, framed her face, hiding the tears streaming down her face with those watering sobs. Her sorrow ached her bones; she breathed in deeply, trying to catch some life.

He walked up to her, assessing the indifference and barely any reaction to his presence. He knelt before her, catching a peek at the tear-struck eyelashes, red-rimmed stinging pale eyes and quivering lips. He whispered, "Hinata—"

"W-Why a-are you here?" She barely lifted her face. She wiped her cheeks with the sleeves drawn over the back of her hands.

He queried, noticing the distant look that pulled at his chest, "What happened?"

She straightened, gulping down the sobs. Dragging the blanket to the side, throwing it off herself, she asserted, with her eyes averted from his, "Please …leave."

He asked, "Why?" The firmness in his tone carried his annoyance with her avoidance. He felt the urge slithering in his fingers to just grab her chin, pulling her face closer to her and inspecting all the worries clinging in her lowered gaze.

She hesitated then exhaled sharply. The wince that screeched in the silence made him flinch, his knees dug deeper into the ground and he gritted his teeth. She swallowed the lump in her throat when she croaked out, "You scold me when I cry…over …—"

He understood the agony coursing through her. The way her bright complexion dulled, carrying the shadows of her miserable love for his best friend…made him claw at Naruto. "You're crying over Naruto…again," he seethed.

She snapped her head towards him. Her fallen stare locked with his frustrated one, and he felt his thoughts being ripped apart right there when she schooled her expression into the one he loathed —the mask of Hinata Uzumaki — he let her speak to him with that sternness, "Yes, I am. And let me. So Leave and—"

He noticed the out-of-breath gasps, the dryness on her lips and the haze in her eyes, he offered, "Do you need water—"

Her eyebrows knitted together, in surprise, "What?"

"Water? Tea?" his gaze softened as he asked, his hand lifting to tuck the loose strand of her hair behind her ear, patting the crown of her head. She sank under his touch, almost melting, almost unconscious as her eyes closed instantly and she breathed out in slow bursts.

She bit her lip. "You won't scold me?" His hand slid down her head and grazed the softness of her tear-soaked cheek before he withdrew his touch from her. Her eyes flickered open, the daze still lingering and the crimson shade swept across her cheeks. She raised her hand and patted her cheeks, whimpering under her breath at the heat.

He could see the strength within her fading, so he let the fury at her tears remain under his surface before it could explode. He assured her, as his thumb brushed on the corner of her eyes, wiping away the damned tears, "Maybe another time—"

"I want…to hug you," she stared back at him as if she was witnessing an illusion in front of her and the worry of losing it marred her face. Her request baffled him. He pulled his hand back as if he was scorched. His breath hitched. He froze. The rough carpet bit on his knees, the darkened sky swallowed the light and the evening's darkness began to filter through the curtains, his senses became haywire, focusing on everything even at the stale scent of tea, except on her request.

"Huh?" he blurted.

She ducked her head. She began, "Do you mind…if I… never mind." She then dismissed with a swat of her hand in the air, her voice turning strained. Her lip pulled under her teeth as she chewed the words threatening to tumble out of her mouth.

The shattered expression shadowed her face. She shrank into her space, dipping even further into the couch, as if to erase her existence. There was something bewitching about seeing her so soaked with pain, Sasuke did not relish the sight but he wondered about the way Hinata dealt with her miseries. She embraced them. Often hid them beneath her softness. At times exploded them with her sharpness.

Sasuke staggered off the floor; his feet were held by the relentless yet unseen force seeping out of the floor. He towered over her, watching her sinking onto the couch, dipping her head again in her knees, her bony yet soft hands clawing her own calves.

He reached out to grab her wrist, his fingers tightening around her flesh, he felt the veins pulse with raging blood beneath his fingertips. She sharply snapped her head up, her pale eyes, tinted with the lilac of the evening sky, peered up at him with wonder, with a question.

"Uchiha-san—" she muttered under her breath, trying to wrench her hand off his but he simply listened to thumping in his chest and the heartbeats pounding in his ears as he pulled her harshly, she slid off the couch, her free hand shot to grab his shoulder to steady her frame.

His grip on her wrist slackened. He bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating the next words and its overbearing impact. He hesitated, turning his head to the other side, avoiding diving deeper into the questions she carried in her gaze. He shrugged, dismissiveness coated his words yet he could feel her all-consuming eyes catching the heat searing his cheeks, his neck, his ears when he said, "I do not offer much comfort but—"

Without giving him the chance to fully allow her, she leapt at the chance to occupy the space that he curated for her.

She crashed herself against him, her arms wrapped around him, her hands fisting the shirt on his back. Her cheek pressed onto his chest, he feared that she also heard his heartbeats going wild. Her softness against his hardness, her warmth against blaring heat, her muffled cries reverberating through his limbs, her tears staining his shirt—Sasuke could feel the way she scooted closer to him, whatever space was left between them, she ensured to seep into every crack, every gap…her sweet scent swept over him, clinging to every fibre of his being.

His hand slowly lifted, snaking around the small of her back, pressing into the lower spine where he could feel the stress knotting and nipping at her.

"I hurt him!" she cried out. "Even if I know that I showed him my pain, I showed him that the crumbs he offers to me time to time …aren't enough…I hurt him."

He groaned, and clicked his tongue when he dismissed her, "You took a stand—"

She shook her head, he could feel the movement of her head on his chest. She breathed in as if his smoke-ridden scent calmed her down, "He is Naruto, I shouldn't have—"

The urge to rip the shackles of misguided loyalty and love off her began to rumble within him. His hand slid up from the small of her back to the mid as he pulled her in, closer if that was possible, he spat, "You will again excuse his—"

She denied, her voice heavy with guilt and tears, "No! He is one of the most amazing humans, I kept on being angry …"

Sasuke could feel the regret in the way her body shivered, a sob wracked her from deep within. He acknowledged the dilemma of holding a person like Naruto accountable, "He is. But—"

She tipped her head up, letting the tears fall down her cheeks. His eyes were haunted in the darkness as they assessed every line of stress on her face, every ache paling her complexion, he heard the way her sobs cut through her own words and felt the dimming heartbeats through their embrace. Her soft breathing washed over his face. He sucked in a sharp breath, numbing his mind as it beckoned him to let go. Let go of what, he couldn't decipher in that moment.

Yet the low growling voice of his sanity in the far recesses of his mind bellowed at him to let go of her and stop memorizing the way her eyes looked half-lidded or the contours of her face or the softness of her body or the heat coiling at his core.

She continued, "I don't hate him. But I hate what we've become, why doesn't he understand…and now he wants to try? Why? Why! It's not fair to me that when I'm trying to step back, he is pulling me back into the mess…I'm angry, I'm so…done, Uchiha-san! But I hate hurting him, I hate myself—"

He felt the dread shutting down his brain and toying with his patience when she spoke of herself as if she was worthy of a feeling as intense as hatred. He chided, "Shut up! If I hear that again, I'm going to be angry at you."

She nodded. Pressing her forehead against her chest, she mumbled, "He was being so considerate but…I know …I know he will mess it all up, if not today then tomorrow …I know we have become so hollow because why did my father have to spoon-feed him about the crumbling of our marriage…why couldn't he—"

Sasuke let his hand travel up from the middle of her back to the back of her skull, carding his fingers in her hair, twisting them in his grasp as he commented, "Only he can answer."

She whined, her feet stomping the ground, "He doesn't answer. He simply avoids."

He felt the intense tug at his chest. She snuggled closer, but his throat continued to close up, it was not the first time he had embraced a woman, it wasn't the first time he had embraced her. But the intimacy threading them together in the middle of a darkened and silenced living room at the moment…turned his thoughts into a blur. He felt his grip on himself loosening. He begged, his eyes widened when he realized that he was loud enough, "Hinata—"

She questioned,"How do you do this? How do you deal when Sakura-san and you—"

Sasuke scoffed. He could feel the ice cold water drenching him, the wretched illusion of a momentary warmth washed away as she questioned. He pulled away from her, his hand sliding down her back, carrying the remnants of the scent of her hair on his fingertips. His chest still felt the weight of her head, the sting of her tears and the heat of her breathing. He looked deep into her welled-up eyes as he confessed, disappointed at the way his reality dawned upon her and she gasped at the unfortunate twist of fate, "Hinata, in my case, I'm myself the failed partner…a failed husband. I can't help you to understand your side. Naruto and I are similar, we both are not enough."

She frowned, "But—"

Sasuke commanded, "Be ready tomorrow. Lunch is on me. Wear something light yet sturdy."

Hinata's mouth hung open as she doubted, "What do you mean?"

Sasuke shrugged turning away from her, retreating towards the door. "Lunch, Hinata. You don't need to cook tomorrow."

.

.

.

Hinata stared back at herself in the mirror, eyeing the stranger with wide scrutinizing eyes. She gulped and inhaled sharply as if fueling her with a life force. Her cold fingertips traced the puffiness under her eyes, the phantom ache of her stinging tears pulsed around her eyes and she flinched.

Her gaze traced the flared pants clinging to her hips, the fabric cinched high at her waist, accentuating every curve with effortless grace. The cropped jacket, zipped snugly to her neck, its full sleeves concealing her arms, gleamed subtly under the light, highlighting the silver of her bare skin. With a quiet sigh, she tucked away the loose strands framing her face, twisting them into the loose bun that rested at the nape of her neck, the motion instinctive, practised.

Yet, a flicker of hesitation crept in. Fingers brushed against the hem of her jacket, tugging it downward in a futile attempt to conceal the expanse of pale skin revealed beneath. Was it too much? Too exposed beneath Sasuke's sharp gaze?

But he had told her to dress light—practical yet comforting. This was what she always wore to training, the familiar fabric of a second skin. Still, unease settled in her bones. Her eyelids remained bare, untouched by any dusting of pigment, her cheeks carried no artificial flush, her lips bore only the faintest tint—her face free of embellishment, unadorned. And yet, she fidgeted. The hem of her jacket found itself between restless fingers, her sleeves dragged over her knuckles in a subconscious effort to shield what was already covered.

Lunch. It was just a lunch. It will be over. She breathed in. He won't inquire about her yesterday's outburst. Her face turned scarlet at the memory of her embarrassing request to embrace him and then the continuous sobs. She winced and groaned as she covered her face, trying to shun the memories resurfacing.

The bell echoed and the shrill noise almost made her jump on her spot. She hurried downstairs, her shinobi sandals thumped on the steps as she rushed towards the door.

Her sense of control flickered as she turned the knob, pulling the door open with her breathlessness almost knocking her off the ground. There was a tickle of excitement running through her as she came face to face with the man known for his stoic pale face and magnificent eyes carrying the worldly power in his just one arm.

He stood there, in his glory, cloaked in…not a dark cape but a beige poncho, tattered and patterned, with some beaded necklace attached to its cuffed collar.

"Ready, I believe?" he asked as he let his stare hover over her. Her fingers curled around the edge of the door tightly, tand he wood groaned under her grasp. She felt the heat creep up at her neck as his gaze burned on her, trickling down inch by inch like molten lava. She fidgeted under his weighing focus. she yanked the door open, allowing him to enter.

He grunted inwardly when he tore his eyes off her and looked over her shoulder at some far distance. "Ready?"

She yelped as his question instantly pulled her outside of her trance. "Yes. Is this fine?" She bit her lip, lifting her eyes to him again, berating herself in her mind for the question.

He muttered, turning away, "Yes." Instead of entering her house, he stood a step away on the porch. His chakra thrummed in the air as his purple eye swirled, ripping the space before him into oblivion.

She dashed outside, and the door shut behind her with a quiet thud. She lifted her palm to rest on his arm, he glanced over his shoulder and cocked his eyebrow at her, "Come on," he said darkly.

She fumbled, "I thought…we…I mean …"

He turned to her. His jaw twitched. "Out of Konoha." He leaned forward to grab her wrist and her mouth parted; before words could form and be uttered, he zapped her through the portal, her mind numbed for a moment, blurring everything and turning everything into a depthless dark.

Then she found her feet settled on the ground. Her eyes fluttered open and she felt the unusual heat dripping down her nape, her vision clarified and she took in the sight. She stood in a narrow lane, with carts lined up on either side of her and dome-shaped buildings made of sandstone towered. She felt a light grasp on her lower back, guiding her forward. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Sasuke, draped in his unusual beige-coloured poncho, his eyes staring ahead at the busy road. Hinata felt the sudden dryness coating her lips and tongue and the soaring temperature almost dizzying her.

Unpredictably, a gust of wind whipped around her, carrying sand that stung her eyes. She lifted her hands to rub her eyes. "Are we in Suna?" she asked, feeling the familiar sun blazing down on them and the sand dunes at the far distance with rocky outcrops providing a distinctive angle to the endless desert. Her Byakugan had flickered and gauged the area instinctively.

"This was not a part of Suna for decades, but about five years ago, Gaara managed to win the trust. This was an abandoned pitstop for people travelling from Suna to anywhere. A ghost town—"

"A what?" She latched onto his arm and shrieked. The people passing by her turned sharply towards her and glared at her with their wide amber or green eyes. She felt the shrill sensation crawling up her spine, tensing her nape and pressing heavily on her shoulders. Her hand slipped from his bicep to the elbow, her fingers digging into the crook of his elbow, pulling him closer to her.

He mocked, his words hid the subtle jab, she could hear it, "Calm down—"

"You are trying to scare me?" She walked to his side, almost clinging to him.

"No." He shrugged.

She asked in a hushed tone, looking up to find amusement in his eyes but he simply stared ahead, watching the cobblestone path with keen focus, "If it's a ghost town, why are you bringing me here?"

He whispered, leaning to her side, she could feel the chakra emanating from him, sizzling her, "Do you think I'd let anything happen to you?" He finally turned to her as his steps came to a halt, in front of a stall that had lots of beautiful fabrics draped on the stand and handmade jewellery laid out on the front.

She averted her eyes from him. Her voice was low when she assured herself and him, "Never."

"Then follow me." He urged her to take a look at the stall, "I bought this from here …ten years ago." He pointed to his poncho, "Still in mint condition," he smirked as he eyed the tattered edges.

Hinata smiled at his attempt at humour. Her grip on him slackened. She leaned forward, eyeing the beautiful necklaces made of glossy stones. "You want something for luck, lady?" The shopkeeper tapped her hand hovering above the bracelets and necklaces.

She fiddled with her fingers, catching a gleam of curiosity in the elderly woman's weary eyes. "Uh…um, I want to gift someone."

"Lover?" She pursed her lips into a thin line and asked.

Her cheeks flushed. She heard Sasuke scoff at her side but she kept her gaze focused on the black beaded bracelet with a red stone in the middle, cracked dark lines glinted on the stone and caught her eyes. "No…"

The shopkeeper lady grabbed the bracelet she eyed off the box and extended it towards her, "Your choice is good, you can take this."

Hinata breathed in, mustering a delicate smile as she shook her head and stepped back, "Um, it's fine. Next time."

Sasuke grunted beside her, dragging her nearer to the stall. His touch on her arm was an iron-clad grip, "Buy whatever you want."

She lowered her head. "But I didn't bring my—"

Sasuke sounded pissed. She could hear the sneer, the annoyed distress in his tone. "Hinata—"

She protested, tapping the wooden log that supported the shade of the stall, "But—"

"Don't test my patience."

She did not intend to ruin a good afternoon by getting onto his bad side, so keeping her eyes averted, she picked the bracelet off her palm, "Please, this one."

The shopkeeper leaned back, announcing, "3500 ryos."

Hinata's jaw dropped. The beads weren't rare. The red stone wasn't precious. She folded her arms across her chest, "That's expensive for a beaded—"

"Bargaining doesn't suit you, Hime." Sasuke scoffed. "Pack this," he pointed to the bracelet in her grasp. The shopkeeper tore the paper bag off the hook but Hinata shook her head.

She turned to Sasuke.

He cocked his eyebrow at her surveying stare.

Hinata held her breath. The bewildering excitement erupted in her chest again. The sun's golden light traced the sharp angles of his face, adding a rare warmth to his skin. She felt her control slipping away, so tenuous, so fragile that a mere sight of him, out of darkness, brought her heart to her throat.

She swallowed.

She breathed out.

She blinked.

His frown deepened.

She leaned forward, grabbing his wrist. "Hold your hand like this." She looked at the veins at the back of his hand, prominent and blue, her fingers burned with the desire to trace the lines of his veins that travelled up his forearm to his elbow. She shook the unbidden thought and tied the bracelet around his wrist, tapping the stones gently as they settled onto his skin, contrasting against his pale skin. "This reminded me of your eyes."

"You got this for…me?"

"Yes. For being my…" friend? She wondered. Somehow that word lacked someone that he was to her. He made her breathe. He brought laughs back to her life. He held her when she was falling. He even broke her himself. He was essential. Essential. "For being my companion."

She felt the slight widening of his eyes before he brought the mask back to his place, hiding the little peek at the emotional vulnerability that almost exploded.

He stepped back, looking away and mumbling, "I should get you—"

Hinata giggled, covering her mouth with her small hand, "No need—"

He yanked the black scarf off the hanger; curved crimson lines were embroidered at the corners of the scarf. He firmly said, "This!" Under his clenched grasp, the fabric crumpled, she heard the shopkeeper wince in dismay but there was a noise in the background. Because at the moment, only they existed. The haunting reality of being alone with Sasuke, outside of Konoha…dawned upon her and she stirred. Before she could say anything, he managed to drape the scarf around her neck, a little tighter as she had to readjust it to not be choked.

"This reminds you of …what?" She held the corner of the scarf, the soft fabric grazed her fingertips, and the value felt precious in her grip.

He said, "This represents me."

"I find you a gift that reminds me of your eyes, but you get me something that's…part of you…unfair," she teased as she saw him paying the shopkeeper with an unamused look.

His slanted gaze fell on her, she could feel the annoyance bubbling within his eyes but a small smile still crept to the corner of her lips. Her eyes lifted, catching his. "I'm kidding—" she began to clarify.

He heaved a sigh, "I don't mind you keeping a part of me."

Oh. Oh.

Her smile dropped. Her thoughts flew into a haze, rendering her thoughtless for an entire minute. Her heart stopped beating, in the literal sense, she could the blood pumping into nothingness. There was that feeling… that she chased, all her life—feeling worthy.

Is this how it feels like to feel like someone who matters? She asked herself. His words circled her mind, wrapping around her, consuming her. The firm trust of entrusting a part of yourself to another—something that she had done, but never had someone do for her. That trust of Sasuke Uchiha swept her off her feet, she felt as if she was floating in the heated wind.

She couldn't find the earth below her.

She couldn't see the sky above her.

She could only feel the pull towards him, the sincerity with which he offered her himself…was gravitational. She was tumbling towards him.

Thank you. She wanted to bow to him. Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for liking me enough to give a part of yourself. She couldn't understand the profound touch of his words on her soul.

"Let's go." He threaded his hand with hers, waking her up from her predicament. "Hold my hand, people are a bit weird here." She weaved her fingers with his, her eyes darted to their intertwined hands and her heartbeats began to rumble in her chest when the red stone of the bracelet turned deeper scarlet under the sunbeams crashing over them.

.

.

.

Hinata's mouth was hung open. Her eyes assessed the stretched-out hall before her. Round wooden tables spread out, their chairs tagged with multiple charms. The scent of spices and sizzling meat wafted in the air, making her gulp the enticed desire to gobble whatever goodness they offered. The place buzzed with people and their chatter, small speakers hung at the beams, erupting with soft music adding flare to the setting. Servers rushed from one end to another carrying trays of meat and drinks.

"You wanted Barbecue, this is the best one I've had." Sasuke nudged. "It's better at night but you have dinner commitments with your husband …so …lunch it is!"

The counter right in front of them looked packed with people lined up, gathering slips for their designated tables. The woman sitting there had big green eyes, striking blonde hair and olive skin—she stared at Hinata and Sasuke behind her, with a focused yet amused look.

"This place looks fun!" Hinata turned, almost bumping into his chest.

"Whatever fun is." He pushed past her, breaking the line as if he owned the place, his hand pulling her through the crowd and she mumbled a few apologies to the people who gaped at them with furious glints in their eyes.

"Usual table for you, Uchiha?" The woman at the counter twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she chewed on a gum. "I doubt it. You've got company this time."

Sasuke glared, "Corner. Quiet. Two seats."

She pushed herself off the chair, placed both of her palms on the slab before her and leaned forward, "He'd be happy to see ya, but who is she?" Hinata instinctively scooted closer to Sasuke.

"Slip," he demanded, extending his hand to her. Hinata felt the phantom emptiness sticking to her palms as he let go.

"Fine." She slid the slip that marked the table number to him. Sasuke without further chatter, turned to left, dragging her along.

They settled to the corner tables, under the warm lights hanging overhead. The table was lined with the wall, and chairs were placed opposite, feeling the comforting cold seeping into their arms as they leaned their sides to the wall.

Hinata and Sasuke fell into their habitual silence. Their comfort lulled them into a trance where Hinata felt herself drowning deeper and deeper. The gesture. The remembrance of her interest in barbecue. The thought of holding her hand to keep her away from the creeps. Sasuke Uchiha was becoming someone who she couldn't undo from her life, from her blood, from her mind and from her soul.

She stared at him. The was an ease on his expression as he looked around. There was a subtle unguardedness that brightened him. There was a vibrancy in his complexion. There was a tint of blue in his hair falling over his face. There was a slight upturn of his lip at the sight of an argument between the counter lady and a customer.

There was a tenderness in the way his breathing made his chest go up and down. There was a fragility in the way his hand rested on the table.

"Just ask away, Hinata." He did not have to look at her to know that she was harbouring questions and intrigue.

Hinata waved her hand around, gesturing at their presence at an eatery in an area bordering Suna. "Why are you doing this, Uchiha-san?"

Sasuke shrugged, turning to her. His eyes assessed her. He clicked his tongue and then said, "Ever since the cherry festival, you've been gloomy and it affects your cooking. So, here is your much-needed barbecue."

A part of Hinata could feel the embarrassment clawing at her throat. There was an erratic rush of thoughts jumbling her brain, jamming the sense to make it out. Cherry blossom festival. A sour memory. A moment in her life that shifted her destiny. A point of life with consequences so brutal that it scared Naruto.

But somehow Sasuke cushioned the hurt with his subtle concern. And she beamed. Her face lit up as the laughter rang in the air.

"You're not funny."

He quipped back, "You laughed."

"Thank you." She bit her lip. "Thank you for noticing—"

"Naruto is dense," he sounded truthful, not defensive of his friend.

Hinata stirred in her seat, and squirmed at the discomfort of her husband's mention. "His choices are conscious," she steeled her resolve.

"I detest when you cry over him but I'm being truthful—"

"I know. Would it be wishful thinking to have you by my side against him?" She snickered. Her attempt to steer the matter away from the crippling reality of her life succeeded as he nodded.

"Against Naruto? Anyday!" He scoffed.

"So, how did you find this place?" She propped her elbow on the table, placing her chin on her palm.

He huffed out a breath. "Almost twelve years ago, Naruto sent me to Suna for a diplomatic meeting, Gaara mentioned that there is a ghost town at the Suna's bordering line but the people were unwilling to come under his rule as it has always been an independent land with their three nobles leading the civilians. I explored and now I'm here. I'm glad Gaara got through these people, they flourished way more in the last five years."

She listened intently. Their eyes locked. Their attention was focused.

"Why is it named the Ghost town?" There was an unease in her voice.

A smirk budded on his lips. "There is a well here, where people worship a spirit known as the mizu. Apparently…at night, unusual noises come from the well."

She felt the cold shivers in her limbs. "Have you heard?"

He nodded. "Yes."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Her face paled. "Do you believe—"

Sasuke for sure read the fear clinging to the hair sticking to her forehead, to her fluttering lashes, to the trembling lips and to the red dusting her cheeks. He shrugged, "I've seen worse in my travels, so it did not faze me. Shinobi world is too occupied with their restricted vision that the life beyond a shinobi becomes uninteresting."

She confessed, "It sounds interesting to me but I wouldn't like to experience it."

Sasuke leaned forward and whispered, a teasing lilt in his tone, "I can take you—"

She rolled her eyes, leaning back into her chair. "No, thank you!" A guttural chuckle escaped from his mouth.

Before they could share further. A waitress came around to their table holding a notepad and a pen, her eyes beaming at Sasuke as she stood near to him, disregarding Hinata's presence. "Uchiha-sama, good to see you back!" She chimed. While Hinata noticed the brunette frantically tucking her loose strands back, pushing herself closer to Sasuke with her glossy lips stretched into a smile…Sasuke had his eyes on her. Hinata felt his probing gaze on her.

He ordered, "Two medium sake and my usual order."

The waitress scurried off. A relief settled in her chest. The discomfort from her presence alerted her. Her stress deflated as she retreated into the kitchen at the far end.

"Uchiha-san has fangirls outside of Konoha too," she chuckled. Some of the women around her had eyed her with disdain and now she knew why, they desired the man who was with her. Their shameless gawking on his head to toe sent a restless burst of frustration through her.

He hissed, "Annoying."

He didn't like them. Relief kicked in.

Of course, he didn't like them, Hinata. He is a married man. She squeezed her eyes shut. There was a shooting pain crackling in her skull.

The food arrived and she thanked the heavens above for the distraction.

.

.

.

"It's delicious." She wiped the corner of her mouth. "Who knew that Uchiha-san was having such tremendous food during his atonement journey." She placed the tong to the side after placing the grilled beef strip at his bowl.

"What?" He snapped.

"Naruto used to say 'Teme is decaying somewhere with none to water him'," she imitated the mocking excitement of Naruto's tone for him, "But I'm sure he didn't know you were enjoying good food around the world."

"That loser has a lot of opinion." He then chewed on the beef she grilled for him, "Some places. Not all."

She asked, "Do you miss your nomadic days?" There was a fear lingering in her words. The fear of his desire to go back to the wind, to the shadows, to everywhere except where he belonged.

Losing him…the mere thought became hammering beneath her surface.

"Sometimes," he confessed. Her chewing slowed. He wants to leave Konoha. Her thoughts with jagged edges poked her sanity. "But when I see Sarada, I regret leaving."

There was heaviness in the way his eyes drooped. Guilt pounced on him like a snake, grabbing him by the venomous grip.

She dropped her fork to the side. She found her hand resting on the back of his hand, her warmth seeping into his, there was an electric surge that pulsed in her veins. "I'm proud of you, Uchiha-san. Despite the circumstances, you've found a footing in her life. She seems happy."

Sasuke nodded, turning his palm up, and holding her hand in his. Her breath hitched in her throat. "Her happiness is all that matters."

The pull slithered up her fingers to thread them with his, she muttered, "Konoha is your home. Please stay."

He said, his hand finding hers to hold on to, "If I ever leave again—"

She pulled away her hand. Abruptly cutting down the line of conversation which made his heart palpitate and drove the hollowness to echo within her, "Let's talk about something else."

Sasuke wanted an answer, "No—"

A man yelled from a few tables away. He was as tall as Sasuke, his hair balding and his eyebrows bushy, his body heavy and his hair tinted with grey, his shoulders slumped but there was a strength hanging in his bright sky-shaded stare, he waved his hand at their table, "Oi, Uchiha! Finally seeing you with a woman."

Sasuke groaned and lowered his gaze to the table as if he wanted to slam his head against the table. The man approached their table with heavy steps, a grin plastered on his face.

Sasuke lifted his head and regarded him with nothing, an impassive expression cloaked the softness she had just encountered, "Jiro."

"Oh, such an enthusiast!" That man's hand clamped on Sasuke's shoulder and a frown pinched on his eyebrow at the uninvited touch. Hinata felt the amusement curling in her stomach; he looked childlike, a slight pout on his lips and a frown deepening on his forehead, his eyes filled with rage but restrained. Sasuke Uchiha in the academy looked just like that.

Sasuke threw away that man's hand from his shoulder and pushed his seat back. "You destroy every customer's peace or is the deal exclusive for me?"

"Only for you," Jiro muttered with a smirk, shifting his focus towards her and she squared her shoulder and dropped her spoon to the plate. "Ah, a pretty lady with a wraith. I wonder how. I'm Jiro." He extended his hand.

Hinata lightly bowed, "Hinata," she said as she took his hand in hers for a brief shake.

Jiro turned to Sasuke and raised his eyebrows. "How did you get her? She is very beautiful."

Sasuke leaned forward and wrenched her hand from Jiro's and Jiro held his stomach as he laughed in a roaring voice that turned heads towards them. "I'm sure she knows it, she doesn't need a man thrice her age to tell her that."

Jiro grabbed the sake glass before Sasuke and took a gulp. "I'm fifty, not eighty."

Sasuke raised his hand to snatch his glass off Jiro's grasp. "Not my fault you like shit."

Jiro cursed, winking at Sasuke, "Bastard."

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "I've heard worse."

Jiro's expression contorted into something genuine. The playfulness dissipated as concern swept across his face. "How are you?"

Sasuke grunted, "How do I look?"

Jiro tapped his chin, rubbing the beard. "Actually…a lot better. At least you don't look like a wraith that cursed this town."

Hinata jumped into the conversation as the words slipped out, "Cursed?"

"Oh, you brought a lady here without—"

Sasuke interuppted, "I told her. The cursed part is just your superstitions."

Hinata chose to let the two adults bicker like kids, and she reached out to grab the tong to turn over the sizzling beef strip on the grill, but her hand accidentally brushed against the grill and she leapt back, hissing and holding her palm, rubbing the burnt area. Sasuke abruptly grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, inspecting the burn, "Are you okay?"

Hinata assured, "I'm okay, just a mistake." She noticed a flicker of worry crossing his face as he brought her hand closer to his eyes.

"Are you blind, Hinata?" His thumb grazed the bruised spot, and a warm chakra seeped into her skin as he attempted to heal the scarred skin. The way his hand held hers, a warmth twisted inside her. His utterly immersed eyes on the blistering redness gleamed with a heart-stopping concern.

"I can heal myself—" she choked out.

Sasuke raised his eyes and she sank on the seat, noticing the feral fury swimming in his eyes as he shunned, "Shut up."

Jiro added, his fingers drumming on the table, "Oh, protective! Never thought I'd see Sasuke Uchiha under the exquisite charms of a beautiful woman—"

Hinata's insides churned at the implications of his words. Sasuke was not charmed. She reminded herself.

Sasuke finished healing the burn and turned his head sideways, cursing at the older man who grated on his nerves, "Fuck off, Jiro." His grip on her wrist tightened, yet his touch felt like the stirring of wind over her skin.

"Fine. Fine. Enjoy." Jiro waved as he turned on his heels to retreat.

Hinata tugged her hand, trying to pull it from his grip. He looked at their joined hands as if he was unaware of cradling her hand. He huffed as he pulled away. She settled her hand back onto her lap and looked at the way her fingers twitched and shivered.

The touch spoke to her.

She lifted her head and caught his eyes already on her. She picked up her fork and dug in the spicy meat in her plate. After taking a small bite, she said, "Jiro-san is eccentric."

Sasuke raised the glass to his lips and looked over the rim, his voice low, "He is a headache."

Hinata shook her head. She smiled. "He was being friendly."

Sasuke slammed the glass on the table and wiped the corner of his lips with the back of his hand. There was a childish innocence in his actions, yet…his words spoke as if he was aged for eternities. She laughed when he retorted, "He was being annoying."

A lightness settled in her chest. The ache of yesterday drowned under the rain of peace that was soaking her. "You both bicker like children."

He whined, a tiny frown on his forehead, and puffed cheeks as he chewed and complained, "He provokes me."

She tittered, biting her lip to suppress the lingering grin. She tapped her spoon on the rim of her bowl and whispered, "You're not innocent, Uchiha-san."

"Whatever—" he began to gripe but she leaned forward, the edge of the table digging into her torso. Her fingers reached out to the flap of his collar and she tugged it closer, his mouth parted open, she could read the amusement and shock on every lineament of his face. "Hinata—" she smiled wider and flicked his forehead.

The colour drained from his face while a rosy tint swept across her cheeks. "Thank you for today. Thank you for everything," she rubbed the spot where her fingers flicked at him and then leaned back to her seat, her heart thumping wildly in her chest, questioning the unbidden and hidden courage that coursed through her and propelled her to do what she did.

Silence. Amidst the noise of a barbecue eatery, there was a silence that only they could hear or feel. A shadow of unknown emotions loomed over them.

They stared at each other.

As if holding onto each other.

Hinata realized the peace that had drenched her, now…baffled her. Sasuke Uchiha was not supposed to light up her world like that.

Yes, he was the light she was hoping for at the end of the tunnel.

His dark eye turned crimson, memorizing the moment, tucking it in the deepest corner of his mind like a prayer he did not want to forget.

How did she know?

Because if she had the Sharingan at that moment, she would have been doing the same thing.

She would have been memorizing the shock freezing him on the spot. She would have kept the memory of the tenderness in his eyes like a sacred writing from the past lost forever.

That moment she realized who Sasuke Uchiha was.

A charmer. A sinner. A friend. A companion.

And someone she met a little too late in her life.

.

.

.

Stepping out of Sasuke's Rinnegan's portal and landing back into her dining hall almost thwarted her mind. She felt her head spinning and her nausea rising like a bile in her throat.

"You okay?" She felt a hand, warm and guarding, clasping around her arm, to steady her.

She cocked her head to the side and nodded at Sasuke's concerned look.

"A little disoriented." She dragged a chair and sat. "I'm so sorry for ruining your poncho," her eyes travelled to the stain on the front, he followed her gaze and then lifted his eyes back to meet hers and shrug. She had spilled chocolate syrup on it when she excitedly dragged him to the cart and bought two chocolate cones, juggling them with barely any grace and then eventually staining his poncho.

"Doesn't matter."

"Take it off," she pointed to it. He raised his eyebrow. Her musings surprised him. "I'll get it washed and give you back tomorrow when you come for lunch."

He unzipped the front, and then ducked, tipping the whole thing off himself with one swift movement. He tossed it on the ground, "Fine," he shrugged.

Before she could express her gratitude again, she noticed his feet almost staggering back as he held his eye and scrambled back, pressed to the wall. She leapt out of her seat in an instant and reached out to grab his arm. "Uchiha-san…"

"Using Rinnegan is…slightly painful." He had his eye covered, his dark eye boring into her worried stare, stilling her breath within her. Her delicate expression twisted, the worry etched onto her face vibrant, "Calm down, it's fine."

"I'm sorry, it's because of me—"

"Shut up," he drawled. There was not any biting edge in his tone. However, there was a tired withdrawal.

She tore his hand off from his eye and muttered, "Let me help." He winced. She traced the line of his jaw when she cupped his face, stepping closer to him, inhaling the pine and sand from him. Her fingers brushed over his cold skin and his eyes widened as he peered down at her. She gulped and tucked his bangs back, revealing the eye that sent a shiver down her spine.

His Rinnegan was brighter than Pein's. Power swam in Pein's eyes while in Sasuke's eyes, it roared.

She gathered a burst of chakra on her fingertips and pressed around his eye and the tenseness in his shoulder deflated, his body sank against the wall. Her free hand held his arm, squeezing his bicep tightly, feeling the rippling muscle crackle beneath her touch. "Is it good?" She asked as her fingers circled around his eye, letting the cool and comforting chakra seep through.

He breathed out, "Yes."

Their eyes met again, in a more intimate space, in a more profound manner…the light that surged within her with his mere presence left a glow on her cheeks, she could feel the subtle heat creeping down her neck and nestling at the crook of her collarbones. His gaze ripped away from hers and followed the crimson glow slipping down from her cheek to her neck to her collarbones.

"Mom?"

She jumped on the spot and rushed away from his space. She turned her head to the side, looking at the archway to the living room where Boruto stood as he rubbed the sleep off his eyes.

Hinata heaved a sigh, mustering a smile on her face. "Boruto? When did you come back?" She found it hard to catch her breath. Her fingertips still burned with the remnants of him.

Boruto yawned, his eyes darting between her and Sasuke with a narrowed look. "A few hours ago, our mission was taken over by the other team as it was not ranked C anymore."

"Is Sarada fine?" Sasuke asked. Hinata felt his presence approaching her back, nearer and yet again…engulfing.

Boruto groaned. "Yes, she went to eat burgers with Cho."

"I'm leaving." Sasuke leaned forward, whispering into her ear, his breath tickled the shell. She did not tear her eyes off Boruto to follow his retreating figure. Because her son's befuddled yet focused eyes called out to her, holding her caged on the spot.

"Mom—"

Hinata grabbed the poncho off the floor. Her confusion had receded when she cut him off and searched for an answer while stalling her son, "I'll prepare something for you." She left towards the staircase after patting the head of her son and smiling at his worries or curiosity.

She ran upstairs.

As if she had anything to hide.

But she didn't.

Right?

She pondered as she shut the door of her room behind her. And sank on the floor, holding the poncho in her lap with her eyes fixated on the bed she often shared with her husband.

A pang threatened to choke her from within.

There was a cloud of puzzled thoughts hovering over her, questions were thrown at her by her sanity like darts. She yelped at every dart piercing through her.

But she wondered…she wondered for hours…for days to come… about the kind of feelings that overcame her when she found herself floating in the moments shared with a man who was none other than Sasuke Uchiha.

An epiphany was dawning on her; it was something she couldn't quite decipher.

But somehow her tears began to cloud her vision.

Why?

The heaviness pressed on her chest. Air hissed out through her teeth.

.

.

.

Sasuke walked the path under the tamed heat, his eyes boring into the pavement as he took long strides towards the destination which called for him now and then. He ran his hand in his hair as he crossed the road, shifting towards another turn that shortened the distance between him and her.

His eyes caught the adorning bracelet tied around his wrist. He felt his insides rip open at the mere sight of someone's gentle act for him. For a moment, he felt the urge to have another hand so he could trace the beads gleaming on his wrist. He could feel the trace of her soft fingers over his wrist as she smiled widely and locked the bracelet. Her touch had stayed for a beat longer, her raw humanness peeked through when her gaze softened as she noticed the ease coursing through him and his acceptance of her gesture.

With his mind consumed with the previous day, he walked up to her porch, hoping to just pick up his poncho and disappear. He rapped on the door, his eyes roaming around the garden, noticing the tiny spurts of flowers on which Hinata had been working for the last couple of weeks. He had remembered passing by the Uzumaki Residence once and hearing the loud noises as if there was a fight; it was Hinata scolding the Boruto for stepping onto the wet mud and ruining everything.

The door pulled open.

Sasuke had to lower his gaze as Himawari welcomed him with a sweet smile resembling the woman he was seeking. "Hi, Uncle Sasuke!"

"Hi." He stared ahead, the hallway looked dimly lit, usually at that hour, Hinata was always prancing around the kitchen with an apron draped around her waist and her hand holding onto the spoon while attempting to catch Boruto.

Himawari asked, her stare narrowed, "Are you here to help Mommy?"

"What?" He was alerted.

"She needs help." Himawari nodded. "Upstairs, she was calling me then she stopped me saying that I won't be able to help her. I was about to call Ni-san."

Sasuke nodded. "Let me check. I was here to get my cloak." He wondered if she was fine.

Himawari beamed, "I'll bring that for you! Come inside." She rushed back towards the backyard where Hinata often hung the washed clothes.

With deliberate speed, he bolted upstairs, expecting another episode of her snuggled into her bed with tears streaming down her face at yet another verbal spat with Naruto. He pushed the door open.

With the creak of the door, he heard a low voice, "Hima, I'm fine—" she yelped at the sight of watching him through the mirror, "Uchiha-san!"

She was standing before her mirror, her hand twisted towards the back, her fingers trying to hook the dress together that revealed the pale expanse of her back to him. And that struck him. A memory resurfaced like a lightening bolt, shaking him—the time when he had entered into a trial room thinking that it was Sakura's and saw the mortification colouring every inch of her and his eyes sinning while memorizing every freckle, every scar and the depth of her blush.

Months later, she stood in front of her, with her bare back facing towards her. Her dress barely reaching her knees, cinched on her curves with ease. Hinata looked fallen, mortified and in absolute horror as she stared at his frozen self through the mirror. Sasuke could see the heart swept across her face, tinting her cheeks red. She spun around in an instant, unclipping her bun and letting the dark waves cover her back. She wrapped her arms around herself, biting her lip and looking around as she breathed out in quick gasps.

"Fuck, shit. Sorry." He felt the absolute shame yanking his head and dipping it, lowering his gaze.

She managed to croak out, her words sounded strained. "I…I…I'll come d-downstairs—"

His mind berated him. His sanity and his madness warred. "Himawari told me you needed help so I just…I should have knocked, I am…sorry." His madness bellowed; it's not like you've not seen the smooth curve of her back, the unmarked skin shining under the spilling golden light, you can help her and stop making an issue. He almost grunted and slammed his head to the wall to the side.

She stepped back. She cleared her throat. "Please …can you…"

"I'll leave." He forced his frozen feet to lead him out of her room, the door clicked shut with a loud creak.

He stood before her door, heaving deep sighs. There was a pleading in her voice when she looked over at him with eyes wide with shame. Not her fault, your fault, Sasuke. He reminded himself.

Hinata emerged out of the room and her body clashed with his.

"Uchiha-san," she muttered as she stepped back, her hand slipping down his chest leaving the remnants of her essence on him.

He noticed that she had managed to hook the pink dress together. Her face shone with glitter on her eyelids and blush swiped over her cheeks. The sparkles of the dangling earrings illuminated her style and he almost felt short of breath at the way her dark lashes fluttered upwards, gaping at him with unsaid worry. "Look…Hinata…I shouldn't have—"

She shook her head. "It's okay. Can we … I should have locked the door." Obviously, that meek creature chose to find a gap where she could slip in and whip herself for the issue she never was the culprit of.

She sidestepped and began to move away, he reached out to hold her wrist, pulling her towards him. "Where are you going wearing…this," his eyes mapped over her up and down, and she frowned.

She squirmed in his grasp. "What do you mean?"

"This looks…fancy." He noticed the silk draped around her, the neckline plunging deep, the colour soft and shimmery, the heels clanking on the floorboards— Hinata looked like a Hokage's wife. And that irked him.

"Naruto wants to try…he arranged a lunch outside for me."

Sasuke's voice sounded as if he mocked. "Date?"

She dipped her head. "Hm."

Sasuke's finger curled around her wrist tightly, he leaned down his head to be at an inch's distance from the side of her face. He asked, "Do you want to go?"

She sharply turned her face to his. "I told him I'd see how far he goes."

His gaze flickered from the slope of her nose to the gloss plumping her lips as he asked, "But do you want to go?"

She whispered, following the trail of his eyes, "He is coming to pick me up, Uchiha-san."

He punctuated his every word. There was a flame that erupted within him, burning brighter than the previous moment at the thought of their date or shared intimacy. "Do you want to go?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. "I have said yes."

His vexation turned endless. His fingers began to leave a mark on her wrist, she flinched and looked up, staring deeply at him with an apologetic gaze when he asked again, a warning laced his tone, "Do you want to go?"

He longed to hear what she wanted.

And he did.

"No," she muttered. Her kohl-lined eyes began to itch with tears. She blinked rapidly.

His grip loosened, his hand slipped from her wrist and her fingers latched onto his fingers and threaded them together with hers. He urged, "Then don't."

"Why?" She sounded winded.

He said what she believed but couldn't act upon, "He is too late."

"How would you know?" She squeezed his hand. He groaned at the heat churning at his core. He couldn't find the reins of his control anywhere.

He confessed, "I'm too late for Sakura too. She has not realized it yet. But I'm sure you've realized about Naruto."

She hesitated, "I'm…"

"Obligated to go?" He quipped.

"Perhaps." She stepped back, pulling his hand away from his. The lack of her warmth made him clench and unclench his fist. She brought her hand to her chest and sucked in a sharp breath.

"I'll keep him occupied. But only if you truly don't want to go." Sasuke tipped her chin up. She bravely attempted to hide the tears blurring her sight.

She confessed, "There was a time when I wanted him to be like this…but that time is gone. Now I don't want to go and hurt myself when nothing will come out of it and everything will go back to being the same when …he chooses someone else over me…" Unable to pinpoint the ache, her confession was dropped on him and he felt the anguish numbing his brain.

"Bye, Hinata."

She asked, "What will you say to him?" Her curiosity made her swallow the tears.

Sasuke fetched the scroll out of his chest pocket and dangled in front of her. "You remember the saints? The ones who attacked you? I have got the mission to follow the lead, locate them and destroy their second faction, I'll take him with me."

Her soft words for him filled him with relief. "Take care." She fiddled with her fingers.

"Hm." He shoved the mission scroll in his pocket and stepped away from her.

"Thank you." He heard her mutter under her breath.

Sasuke knew Naruto. Naruto was stubborn. If he had decided to chase Hinata and keep her, there was not any force that could make him stray. Naruto had realized the wavering foundations of his marriage and he had decided to mend it…Sasuke trusted his best friend's motive. So he let her know, "He will not stop trying—"

She snickered, "He will! When is Sakura-san coming back by the way?" The pain echoed as she chuckled at her bitterness. He wondered if Sakura could see the reality as clearly as Hinata began to see.

Sasuke felt the earth shatter beneath his feet.

He did not respond to her. He simply saw her crumble. Her essence dimmed. She rushed back to her room and Sasuke simply stared at the door, the urge within him flared and pushed him to commit something he'd regret…like teleporting towards Naruto and grabbing him by his collar and questioning his mistreatment of his wife.

But then he was Sasuke Uchiha.

A husband himself.

A failed husband. He did not have any right to question someone else.

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AN: REVIEWS AND FAVS ARE MY FUEL!
NaruHina was the hardest to write and I got sleepy in the last scene so sorry if there are any errors.