A/N: FINALLY, I AM BACK AFTER 2 MONTHS! ENJOY THIS TREAT!
Chapter 16: Promised Words (Second Arc; Choice)
The wind was sharp, whipping at every inch of his body as he stood before a grave; his eyes focused on an unamusing stone, carved with a name that was once the light and the hope of the entire village.
Naruto Uzumaki.
Hero of the Hidden Leaf.
Husband. Father. Friend.
That gravestone was a reminder…of his sins.
The word; Husband did not surprise him…for he lived with the woman who worshipped even the absence of Naruto as if it were a sacred and divine intervention of the world for her. He was more than a husband, even without a ring on her finger.
The words echoed off the cold stone, etching into the abandoned walls of his heart with a finality that made him squeeze his eyes shut and clench his fist tighter, turning the envelope into a crumpled mess.
He lowered onto the grass, his knees aching as he hunched forward, bowing to the stone bearing the name of a man whose life was ripped away by Sasuke. His palm flattened against the warmed grass, his fingers twitched at the thoughts rushing and blazing, and he let the sourness coating his tongue tighten his expression. His cloak billowed around him like a dark halo engulfing the golden warmth radiating and reflecting from the gravestone.
"Dobe …I don't know what to do here." His voice was rough. He gulped as he kept his eyes lowered, watching the insects crawling up the flower pot. "I do not like the idea of visiting graves. I wanted to visit your memorial a year ago, but she …Hinata stopped me."
His voice cracked like dry wood. "But now I'm here for her. She requested that I do this for her." Hinata's weakened voice yet firm devotion rang in his ears.
"Can you believe it?" He questioned him, expecting a grating voice in return, "I do everything for her now."
His mind reeled as the surrendered pale eyes, flushed cheeks, stained with tears, came into his view. "She misses you." There was a gentle hum of sorrow that had made a home in his bones.
His words seeped into his bones. "I think I miss you, too. But I killed you, so I don't know if I have the right to grieve you." His shoulders sagged as he sniggered at himself. His finger, callused and dry, traced the rim of the flower pot.
He confessed, "It's weird talking to you when you only offer me silence…it's unfortunate. I never said it in the past, but I liked it when you talked endlessly. It filled my empty life with something." There was a stinging sensation in his eyes. He blinked away the cloudiness.
"Your son…Haru…he looks like you." Electric blue eyes carrying love and tenderness for Sasuke flashed in his memories; he couldn't quite differentiate between the father's and the son's eyes.
The memories began to claw at his brain. Those memories of his stay with her were some crinkles on his life that time couldn't erase. The eight months jammed into his heart and mind, and soul. "Hinata was very destructive…we fought a lot, I hurt her, I think…but we are fine now. She is recovering…that's a good thing, right? Probably the thing that you wanted from me?" He huffed out an exasperated breath.
He cleared his throat and began again, "I live in your home. The room that you kept for me. I don't know how, but I stayed in Konoha…for the promise. I'm taking care of your family…or trying to." Sasuke's breath fogged before him as his every exhale was a whisper in the void. His voice dropped as if he was afraid that the trees would hear him or the birds would tell on him or the air would keep his secrets like a sword over his head, he whispered, "I think…Naruto…I think I've submitted myself to her; I look at her and I feel this burn in my chest that I can't explain. It's painful…I can't breathe at times with her …how did you live with her?"
"Kakashi doubts me. Sakura thinks that I can't do it for long. Everyone around me is just waiting for me to burst …and I almost did once…it hurt her so much…I got scared too…"
The wind rustled through the trees, screeching and echoing like someone's desperate pleas, perhaps his own.
His lips lifted at the corners as the smile buzzed on his face. "But …Haru doesn't doubt me. He trusts me. He worships me, Naruto…can you believe it? He is so…so in love with me, I can see it, I can feel it, and it's the best feeling ever, but—"
He choked, his breathing uneven as the taste of metallic sorrow slid down his throat, "But I feel like I don't deserve it. Because that place is yours. And I took the privilege away from your son…the privilege of knowing his father…he calls me his dada." He slammed his hand on his forehead, grunting. "Naruto…I like it, I'm sorry but I really like it. I often feel guilty, but with every passing day…the joy is more than the guilt."
"You should have been the one to see his firsts. His first word. His first step. His first winter fever. His first teeth…" he sighed, looking up at the sun filtering through the canopy. "He looks at me like I'm someone he can never live without. But that should be you." He welcomed the weight pressing on his chest.
The wind died down for a moment. Stillness fell, as if the world held its breath.
"She told me to read the letter with you…" He cut through the silence as his hand fished inside his pocket to fetch the crumpled envelope. "I had given her your letter…I told her to give it to me when I deserve it…I think she feels like I deserve it now, but I don't feel that. She is wrong. She is naive. She is just awfully kind to me, and I hate her kindness on me, it makes me want to turn back to the past and let your Rasengan hit me instead of my Chidori ripping through your chest." He startled, bristling at the way that envelope felt heavy in his palm.
"She'll be disappointed if I don't read it…so I'm reading it, okay, sit tight…wherever you are!" He puffed his chest and then exhaled slowly, the wind ticked like a clock around him, counting his every move, suffocating his every thought.
He ripped the envelope from the top and pulled out the letter, unfolded the paper and sat with his knees drawn to his chest. The ruffle of the paper made his muscles twitch and breathing falter.
"Can you do it for me?" Her voice was soft when she pleaded.
"I can, Hinata. I'm doing it for you," he mumbled under his breath, his shoulders stiffened.
.
.
Yo Teme!
If you are getting this, then I'm dead! I bet you shed a few tears? Yeah, right? You should have! But…anyways, if I'm dead, then I hope it's you who killed me.(I am assuming that you survived and I am dead…I mean, one of us has to live…righttt? I do not fear this Otsutsuki with the freaking horn but I have a bad feeling about this fight)
Sasuke had to restrain his fury; his best friend tended to bring the best and the worst out of him, and at that moment, with those exact words, Naruto, even beyond the grave, managed to rile him up.
Because if there is anyone besides you who managed to kill me! ME! Then I'm sure you all are on your way to me too. Except you of course, cuz you gonna go to jail!
If it was possible to smack the hell out of Naruto, Sasuke was damn sure that he'd have done it by now. His fingers dented the page from the corner. He hissed and continued to read.
I think I should be serious now! Because like …I'm dead, I gotta write something meaningful to you, right?
"You think?" Sasuke glanced over his grave and frowned.
So…Sasuke, firstly, I really hope that you remain sane! No more hate towards Konoha, okay? I know what this village did to you was horrendous but…there are innocent people here as well who were not the cause of your miseries. So I want you to promise me that you'd protect the village, you'd be the man I wanted you to be? Promise?
"Fuck you and promises, you dumbass," Sasuke groaned, his throat felt as if it was closing up. The hair on his neck stood up, a chill ran up his spine. He could feel the raspy voice, edged with motivation, buzz around him.
Secondly…take care of yourself! No more running away from Konoha, from your friends here. If I'm not here; Kakashi Sensei is here, Sakura is here …and all of us from the rookie gang will accept you. You can try to talk to Iruke Sensei too, he's just the best human ever! He'll be really nice to you! Please don't fall into your miseries again, I know it's hard for you. I know about those nightmares, about those scars …I know everything, I know you, that's why I believe you deserve to live! So you should!
Please…don't just survive in the wild, live with us. Build your life. Fall in love…I feel weird writing about this but you should, you're too…you about all this love. It's the best feeling ever! Maybe Sakura…she'll be the nicest to you, I think. Or maybe I'm just being selfish and forcing something on you just so you stay at Konoha. You see…I'm so self-aware these days. Anyways…love is your choice, but living is essential, Sasuke. Building your life requires way more, it needs relationships but it also needs self-love. Please stop hating yourself.
You're worth every trouble, Sasuke. You're not made for hate. Even if it's by your own heart.
The words fell on him. Sasuke felt his hand quiver, the wind thrashed on the paper; the letter almost slipped out of his grip. Something incredibly dark spread through his chest. Hate. He hated himself for being worth it in Naruto's eyes. Naruto's acknowledgment of his lack of desire to survive tilted his life; the urge to vanish from Konoha had always been buried deep inside him, and the eight months with Hinata and Haru had kept it shoved, kept it at bay.
The haze from his eyes dissipated, and he looked over the words scribbled on the worn-out page again.
I have a room at the new Uzumaki residence. You should live there. Hinata would be there…with my son. She'd take care of you. And you should take care of her, too. I know it's a heavy ask, I know I'm imposing, but my hands are tied. Life without me for you, Hinata and Haru is something I worry about constantly. The world where I don't exist to protect Hinata, Haru and Sasuke is such an insane concept to me …it scares me a lot. But I'm not there! So I think both of you should be there for each other.
I know you don't know Hinata. But don't be awkward, okay? She knows about the room and who is it for. I told you that, remember? She is the greatest woman on this planet, Sasuke. She is the most beautiful. She won't hurt you. She won't treat you as a monster. I know her…my Hinata is the kindest. She'll make you live. And my son, I know him for like two months but I'm sure he's going to be the cutest baby. He'll love you, he'll dote on you…I know it's just in my blood.
Sasuke had to pause. He had to crane his neck upwards and let the darkening sky bathe him in its shadows. His eyes lowered to the grave before him, and he hunched forward, brushing his fingers lightly at the edge of the slab above. He heaved a deep sigh. Naruto's letter was a souvenir that destroyed the facade of peace he concocted in his mind.
She won't hurt you. "She did, Naruto. She hurt me, broke me, burned me and then left me breathless," he chuckled. His eyes saddened, drooped by the pressure of the truth.
She won't treat you as a monster. "She slapped me, Naruto. She told me that I should die instead of you. She was the cruelest to me. She saw me as if I were beyond a monster…as if I were the devil himself," his voice croaked. Every moment where Hinata had thrown a blow at him replayed like a cursed memory. Every moment where Hinata's heart carried nothing but vile darkness for him throbbed at the back of his mind.
My Hinata is the kindest. "Yes, your Hinata is the kindest. I see her a lot these days. But I've seen a shade of her that you'd never be able to see; that shade of her is solely mine. My Hinata is thrilling, scalding, devastating…unfathomable…my Hinata is my secret. You won't ever know her. I've become the person who truly and fully knows Hinata." A smirk was hanging on the corner of his lips. The way his walls had been shattered by Hinata continued to nip at his mind. Hinata—his Hinata—was someone who kept him by his throat and slammed him on the ground repeatedly, bruising his pride and butchering the facade of indifference he often carried.
She'll make you live. "She does. She burns me and I live. It's like…I like the taste of suffering, it's familiar and somehow when it's from her…it's maddening." His brows furrowed. The inexplicable emotions rumbling in his core clawed at him. His mind began to feel ablaze as if a dagger coated with volcanic heat was jammed into the middle of her forehead.
Please…promise me, Sasuke.
I don't want to burden you, but I don't know what to do, I don't think I've been this helpless ever before…maybe when you had left me and I had to chase you…but now…it's more difficult because I can't come back. I won't come back, teme! I don't want to die this soon, I really don't want to leave my family behind…I don't want to leave you behind!
Please …Sasuke, I don't know what to do except this…please promise me that you'd take care of her, my son and yourself. Please!
I wanted to do that myself.
I wanted to take her to the land of tea and even waves, or even cloud…also the land of hot springs. I wanted to marry her in the coming winter. I wanted to see her in that traditional wedding dress and give her the warmest hug. I wanted to gloat about my son being like me. I wanted to have a swing in our garden for my baby so he doesn't have to linger at any swing near our academy like me! I wanted to buy him everything in this world and not have him count his pennies before buying anything for himself like I did. I wanted…I wanted you with all of us. I wanted you to bond with my son and then have him choose between us whenever we play. I wanted you to never have your nightmares, I wanted to help you with that. I wanted to make you forget everything Itachi left on you and show you the brighter side. I wanted…so much. But I can't have any of that!
Please do it …for me.
I know it's an unfair ask. I know I'm burdening you. But…I can't live in an afterlife where I'm constantly worried about how my son would survive his academy days, or how Hinata would recover her health and mental strength, or how Sasuke would find his will to live…please…I beg you.
Live for me. Don't fucking die! One of us has to live, even if I'm scared of dying, I'm glad that you are the one who is alive.
Love you, Sasuke.
Naruto.
Time stilled.
Silence blared.
It was as if someone had dropped him in the middle of an ocean and he was sinking with an anchor…Naruto's words were that anchor that pulled him to the darkest depths. His words were woven with so much desperation and distress that it rattled him. The letter crumpled into a ball of a crinkled paper, he felt the pleas of his best friend settling into the lines of his palm, ingraining themselves into his fate…marking a fated promise on his skin, branding him with a responsibility that he had begun already shouldering…long before the letter, only because of those croaky and doomed last words of Naruto before the last breath wrote the climax of his heroic life.
He released a ragged breath that he wasn't aware of holding onto.
He stowed the letter into his pocket and then rubbed his face, feeling the dampness on his cheek. The hands slipped off his face with a slow slide. His burning eyes widened at the realization. He could feel uneven breathing begin to turn his mind into a frenzied dizziness.
He felt the insides set aflame at the way Naruto's doubtful desperation howled in his mind. Multiple responses burned on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't string together a few words to find his defense, to speak his piece. His breathing froze in his chest for a moment, then lunged at his throat, not in between.
The man locked beneath his surface began to erupt like a volcano. Fury rushed in his veins.
Death. Naruto's death.
His thoughts stretched farther, trying to hold onto the reality but unable to grasp it as his reality and his restraint fizzled out like smoke at a distance that was too far for his reach. The glimpses of the man Sasuke was at the core, almost came back. Electric jolts under his feet, twitches in his every muscle, aches in his every bone and rage in his blood—he wanted to get off the ground, exhale a deep sigh, sever every tie that hung with frayed threads, and bolt.
His energy shifted, his chakra darkened and rippled—the pain, scorching pain, teemed behind his eyes, his Sharingan flickered, a tear of blood slid down his eye, tainting his pale cheek…red.
He wailed with blood tears.
First Itachi and then Naruto…next…who? His voice from the back of his head mocked him. Fear slithered down his spine, clashing with his rage.
Next…Haru? Hinata? That voice belonged to the Sasuke who bore Orochimaru's curse marked on his face, his paleness marred by dark patterns of evil and forbidden sins. His past—that he had buried in the depths of his being—was resurrected as he came face to face with the evidence of his sin; Naruto's grave.
Sasuke abruptly lifted himself off the ground. The mere insinuation of his harms, his sins, and his cruelty reaching Haru and Hinata drove him to madness. His feet pressed down harder on the grass, his chakra thrummed around him, and the birds sitting on the trees flew away, fluttering away.
He expelled a shaky breath, the ache compelling his mind to shut down, to numb his emotions and run. The air was knocked away from his lungs. His posture slumped as he hunched, holding his knees, panting and stress reverberating through him.
No.
He gasped.
Never Haru.
He bit down on his lip, trying to inflict a pain that could drown that voice laughing at him.
Never Hinata.
His heart pounded loudly, wild in his ears.
"I need a drink…" he whispered to himself and, with great strength, pulled himself together for the world, even if he was being shredded from inside.
.
.
.
Hinata watched Ino and Sakura tucked and comfortably resting on her sofa, while sipping on their teas. Their presence throughout the day was a necessary calmness amidst an otherwise torrential tempest that rumbled within her, dismantling her whenever she dared to even think about it.
Ino had just put Haru to sleep, and Sakura had exhaustive dark shadows under her eyes, hinting at the lack of rest and need for sleep clinging to her. Hinata sat across them, watching them being there for her, on a day which she had thought would break her limb from limb.
Silently, they all mourned the man who was her hope. Her everything. But Hinata kept the pain tucked in the corner of her mind, seeking strength to survive the day, the unfortunate day was long however and was endless—her eyes shifted towards the window and the darkened sky brought her closer to the finality of that haunting day, yet somehow hours a few hours still remained before she could release the breath that was trapped in her throat.
The knock on the door was barely audible, but Hinata's eyes locked with her friends, their inquisitive gaze narrowed.
Thud. Thud. The knock that followed was a slamming one, dragging the weighted punch on the smooth surface of the door. Hinata sat up straight, darting her eyes towards the doorway.
There was a silence that followed for a moment. Hinata rose from her sofa but remained frozen on the spot. For that moment that was on hold, she could hear only the wind whirring through the leaves, the clock ticking like an ominous alarm and the soft breathing echoing from Haru's crib.
Thud! Another slam on the door led to a wince from her sleepy son. Sakura leaned to the side and held the crib, rocking it forward and backward to soothe the disrupted sleep. Hinata braced herself and, with her silent steps, rushed towards the door.
Her hand twirled the knob as she pulled the door open.
The icy wind rushed inside first before her eyes could land on the sight before her that stilled her breathing.
Sasuke.
He had left the house before she woke up, and then he was before her, almost at the end of the day, looking like a ruined man.
He stood slumped against the frame; his cloak was torn from the left as if someone had attempted to yank it off him, one side of his shirt was dragged to his shoulder, hanging low, sleeves dirtied with remnants of twigs and leaves. His hair, unruly and dishevelled. His eyes, glassy and half-lidded, red-rimmed with haze. The sharp scent of alcohol lingered over his existence; bitter and pungent, it hit her like a slap, causing her to scrunch her nose.
She had noticed his drunken states in that week but none as catastrophic as that, none as maddening as that. His inebriated state in the past week was never crumbling enough that he struggled to stand, but the Sasuke, leaning against the doorframe, was latching onto the wall to steady himself.
She pulled the door open. "What happened—"
He stumbled inside. His hands clasped on her shoulders as he winced, "Does it matter?"
She staggered back as his strong hands pressed on her shoulders, "Sasuke—"
He grumbled, pushing her back, "I read it. I h-hate you for th-that." The back of her knees hit the shoe rack, and a sandal tumbled off the rack and thumped on the floor.
She nodded and reached her hand behind him to shut the door. It slammed shut, and he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned at the thrumming noise, "Let's take you inside and—"
Hinata breathed in deeply and pushed on his chest. He pulled back his grip from her shoulders and sagged on the door, mumbling, "He w-wanted to…hug…you …"
Before she could brace herself and wrench herself out of the shock, he stumbled forward and collapsed onto her, his strong arms snaking around her waist and his weight dropping onto her. His forehead dipped to the crook of her neck, and his soft hair brushed against her cheek. Her back hit the wall behind her as his legs wobbled and staggered back. Her limbs hung at her sides, her fists clenched with tension running in her veins.
His words came out slurring, "He w-wanted t-this!"
"Did he write this…in your letter?" Her question came out in a gasp. Something warm filled the cracks of her essence. The mere thought of Naruto's desire to hug her put her off balance.
"Yes. That loser …" Sasuke nodded, she felt his skin grazing against her collarbones."He w-wanted so much."
"Oh." She breathed out. Her eyes widened at the prospect of Naruto's words about her in his letter meant for Sasuke. Was she that valued?
"Do you…not l-like this? Should I m-move a-away?" She felt his arms around his waist tighten. "Hi-Hinata …" his voice was a soft whisper on her. She felt her insides on fire at the way his grip slackened in an instant when silence became the response from her.
She abruptly raised her hands, wrapping them around his back, clutching his sweat-slicked shirt. "No!"
He hummed, "Hm." His heart thumped wildly, resonating with her faltering heartbeats. Their bodies were pressed against each other, holding each other's pain on that terrifying day. She could feel shudders coursing through him like an aftershock. His weight on her became suffocating, but her arms around his strong back held onto him, cradling him as if she were holding his pieces together. "He wanted…so much. He wanted to marry you in winter…take you to other countries …" he pulled away just enough to face her.
She noticed the weariness at the corner of his eyes. The daze in his eyes sparkled with unshed tears. His lips were chapped and cracked. Underneath that horrifying scent of alcohol, his scent of pine and wood persisted. The way his jaw tightened struck a chord in her. She felt the tension that rushed in his veins.
Winter Wedding. Hinata could see the reflection of her own unlived life being played in his eyes; her dressed in white, Naruto beside her in traditional clothes as they looked over a crowd from Hokage Tower, ready enough to walk into the public with hands in each other's grasp as they recalled their vows. Other countries. Hinata was shaken out of her imagination as a memory rattled through her senses; Naruto was hoisted on the kitchen counter, and Hinata was deftly managing the food on the stove while they discussed their plans for their honeymoon to different countries.
And tears sprang to her eyes because the imagination and the memory, both of them, were shattered.
Sasuke's voice was raspy. "Shh…do not …cry—" His fingers on the flesh of her waist dug deeper, clenching her as if he could squeeze the pain out of her.
"Hinata, Sasuke…" Sakura's voice cut through.
Hinata turned her head to the end of the hallway where Ino and Sakura stood, eyes widened and jaw dropped. Her breath caught in her throat, the sight of Sasuke's body pressed against hers, him drunk out of his mind, nuzzling into her neck and mumbling about life and death while wrapping her in his embrace—it drained the colour from both of her friend's faces.
Hinata gulped, preparing an explanation, "Um …he…isn't usually like this. I'll just drop him to his room and…" Ino arched her eyebrows at her, and Sakura's gaze wandered on Sasuke. Hinata rambled, trying to rid the shock and question off their faces, "He doesn't drink much, though he's been drinking for some time but never like this—"
"Hinata!" Sasuke pulled back even more, his hot breath fanned across her mouth as he threaded through his thoughts, "He wants the swing for Haru, but I already have it for him! Even before I read what he wanted! Haru.. won't be having difficulty in the academy, I'm going to make sure of that! And and…and…Haru will never have to count his pennies to buy anything, I will get him everything, Hinata! I will! I swear!—"
Hinata lifted her hand to grab him by his shoulder. Her heart swelled at the intense devotion he carried in his gaze. "You already do, Sasuke—"
Seeing him so unguarded, bare of his vulnerabilities, she had to bite back a sob threatening to break her resolve. Her eyes tinged with tears when he leaned forward, making her breath deepen as he unwrapped one of his arms from her waist but then tugged her face closer to his. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her heated cheeks, and his fingers trailed with warmth below her ear. "Naruto…he wanted to do all that, but I'll do it now…you tell me, okay? You tell me if you want to go to Cloud or Wind or Waves…I'll take you!"
She gasped, his name felt like the only response, the only answer, "Sasuke—"
He began to stumble on the spot, she clutched him tighter. He pressed his forehead on hers, his lips were a feather-light touch on the bridge of her nose when he murmured, "I'll take care of everything, you know?"
She found that she breathed as hard as he did, the moment where his control faltered and fell, mirrored the crack in her resolve as well. Her heart skipped a beat as she held onto her ragged and uneven breathing, trying to lunge at the wisp of life. Relentless need to just get swallowed by the intensity throbbed inside of her.
She could feel his weight again pressing on her, his body sagging with exhaustion and drifting with his drunkenness.
She squeezed his back, sucked in a sharp breath and said, "I know, Sasuke but please, let's take you to your room—"
He groaned, dropping his head on her shoulder again, "Make me sleep!"
Even if the moment was arresting, Hinata had to be the one not to lose her bearings. She imagined if that's how frustrating it was for Sasuke when Hinata had been the one struggling, thrashing and losing herself. "You have to walk, okay?"
His voice cracked, intoxication thrumming in his bones as he shivered, "I need…Can I sleep with Haru tonight?"
Her mind was unable to rip itself away from him, she couldn't rationalize anything. Her shoulders stiffened as she straightened her back, urging herself to support his lean and muscular figure, taller than her, heavier than her. She agreed, knowing well that her son would be delighted to wake up beside his Dada after a whole day of his absence, "I'll bring him to your room, but first let's take you to bed and—"
He jerked his head off her shoulders, gritting out his words, "No! Don't bring Haru, you know my nightmares…Naruto knew about it too, you know? He didn't want me to have them, he wanted to make sure of that but he isn't here because I fucking killed him!" He slammed his hand on the wall behind her, and she yelped and almost jumped out of her spot.
"Sasuke—" she saw the crimson fury swirling in his eyes, the way she came across his mighty power with such proximity, it almost made her want to recoil in fear of the flower shaped pattern with a shuriken encased in it reflecting in his eye, while the other one glinted in darker purple shade. His body had always been warm, but the scalding heat began to reside on the lines of his skin.
She lifted her hesitating hand and pushed back his hair, he almost shut his eyes. The surge of chakra dulled. Her hand slipped from his hair to his cheek, cradling his jaw. Hinata was surprised that her useless hands still carried a healing tenderness that eased the lines of his face. He whimpered and leaned on her touch, nuzzling her palm with his eyes shut and his face flushed.
When he looked back at her, Hinata found the darkness of his eyes staring back at her. The Sharingan had retreated, fluttered back into the dark depths. His brows furrowed, and his voice was low, dark but pleading, "Do you hate me today? I mean…you'd hate me more than usual today, right?"
Hate. Hinata raged at his thoughts. If she hated him, would she have been holding onto his weight, caressing his drunken face and bathing in his soft heat emanating from him?
Her voice edged with irritation, "Please, stop talking!" There was an inexorable pull that she was unable to resist, but she clenched her jaw, huffed, and her hand slid from his face, but he was quick enough to grab her wrist, keeping her touch on him as if he needed that to survive the assault in his mind. The vexation dissolved into thin air instantly at the way his eyes softened at her, and his brows relaxed. The winding tendrils of his hair whipped at his face again, and her fingers brushed them off his eyes.
She heard someone clear their throat.
His eyes shot wide. She jerked her head to the side and saw Ino standing at the end of the hallway, staring at them with narrowed eyes, Sakura a couple of steps ahead of her, biting her lips while her hands were on her hips.
Ino chimed in, her eyes, intense and curious, scanned the scene unfolding before her. "Uh…I think we should leave, I was waiting for Sasuke-kun to come so I could share something with you both, Hinata. But I guess…your hands are full right now, so we'll leave—"
Sakura gulped and raised her eyebrows, her eyes pleading as she offered, her hands reaching out forward, "I can help you with Sasuke-kun, Hinata."
Ino jumped forward, lunging at Sakura's wrist and dragging her closer to her. "No, let's go Sakura."
Sakura protested, her feet dragging away the foot mat along as Ino harshly tugged her towards her. "But—"
Sasuke groaned, rubbing his face, "Go away! Where is there so much noise in our home?"
Hinata swatted her hand at his chest, "Sasuke! Behave!" she chided with a glare. "I'm sorry, Ino and Sakura-san…he is…he doesn't mean that, he is drunk so—"
"We understand," Ino nodded. She moved ahead of Sakura, still with her wrist in her clasp. Sakura's eyes continued to linger on Sasuke as she brushed past Sasuke, even when the door was abruptly yanked open by Ino and Sakura was pulled harshly by Ino to step outside their house.
Hinata's eyes were glued to the door slowly shutting as once again, the familiar silence dawned upon her. The silence amidst which Sasuke and Hinata lived…together.
She felt Sasuke's weight on her again as he lowered his head, pressing his sweat-clad forehead on her bare shoulder. "Sasuke—"
He shifted, his weight sagged while her knees strained, he choked out with a hiccup, "Sleep. Uh…I want to sleep!"
She let out an annoyed gasp, tightening her arms around him to steady him on his feet, she pushed him back to stand straight, "Glad you know that!"
"Please…" the frown deepened, he whined, reaching out to drown in her warmth, but she counted to three, breathing in and out as she let the noise in her head shut quiet. The way he was undone in front of her, vulnerable from every angle, torn from his edges, pierced through…it made her chest clench.
She brought his arm, slung it heavily around her shoulders and then snaked her arm around his waist as she pulled her feet forward while carrying his weight. "I'll bring Haru to my room and…you too."
His breathing came in uneven pulls, his voice lit up with surprise,e and the haze cleared out for a moment as he leaned to her side, staring at her in utter shock, "Your room? Me?" Disbelief shone naked on his face.
She cleared her throat, swallowing the lump. She clarified, eyes staring ahead and watching her each step upstairs being laborious and pulling at her ribs, she began to fumble, "I can monitor you and can take Haru away if you have any nightmares and I have a bed in my room, so…I mean…you have Futons so…like I won't sleep, you can sleep—"
He coughed out. Hinata felt her shoulders aching as he hunched forward and choked on his own breathing. She could feel the tremors coursing through him as he whimpered, "He wanted me to build my life here—"
Hinata's focus wavered. Her mind traveled back to the fact that the day hadn't finished, and it was still her lover's…death anniversary. The sobs were muffled as she swallowed the pain.
She raised her voice, her tone was clipped, "Sasuke! Please, you need to walk…I can't carry you—"
As they reached in front of her room, his steps halted, and she winced. He turned his head to her. His eyes drooped, his cheeks were crimson, and his lips were bitten and quivering. He whispered to her, his hot breath tickling her ear, and she could melt under the rasp of his tone and the intense truth in his words, "You…you can tell me anything, Hinata! You want someone dead, I'll do it. You want to leave this village, I'll take you. You want to do something, I'll do it for you. You want to…you and Haru, I'm here for both of you…I'll take the promises! Every one of them—"
She gripped him tighter. She nodded at his every offering. Her heartbeat was followed by his every word, thrumming in the rhythm of his breathing. She squeezed her eyes shut and let the serene yet chaotic moment absorb into her. "I appreciate it. But let's talk about this only when you're sober."
He sounded out of breath, "Hinata—"
Hinata pushed the door open, and said to him as they entered her moonlit room, "Just come with me, and keep your weight on yourself please—" her words died on her tongue as the reality of her actions of bringing a drunk man—Sasuke Uchiha— in her room pelted on her.
The streaks of silver moonlight dappled on her untouched bed, illuminating its emptiness. There was a hushed silence lingering in the room, the clock ticked and echoed in the stillness, harmonizing with the raspy and ragged breathing.
Hinata guided him towards the bed, he collapsed onto the edge with a muffled groan. His body tilted and he headed towards the pillow in a daze, but she held him by the shoulder. "Sasuke," she gritted out.
He hummed a response, dwindling on the spot, hunching forward towards her where she stood towering over him as she remained firm between his legs, "Hm."
Hinata's eyes roamed over his slouching shoulders, his half-lidded eyes and his head almost lolling to press against her stomach, but she squeezed her shoulders and cleared her throat, "Take off your cloak and… shirt—"
"Why?" His voice was low, his head still ducked.
Hinata scoffed. Her hand slowly trailed towards his collar, and the shiny hook of his cloak was cold under her fingertips. "I won't let my son sleep beside you when you are stinking with alcohol from head to toe! And I won't leave you under the shower because you'll sleep there…so I'll just clean you up with the sponge—"
"Nah—" he shook his head.
"Shut up!" Hinata's patience ran thin, with a quick flick, she unclasped his tattered and battered cloak and discarded it to the side. "Take off your shirt on your own…" She turned on her heels, walking towards the bathroom to fetch a bowl of water and a clean sponge to wipe the dirt, sweat and drunkenness off of him.
As she returned with two bowls of warm water and a couple of clean sponges, she noticed his clumsy attempts to sit up straight, his legs dangling off the side of the bed, and his breathing pressing on his insides, weighing him down. She set the bowls on the side table.
His head was hanging as he huffed out in frustration, "Tch." His fingers fumbled with the buttons as he missed the holes and scratched the fabric absentmindedly, yanking at the buttons to break them and ripping the fabric apart. His shoulders slumped, and he hunched forward, pressing both of his sweaty and trembling palms on his knees and grunted. His hair whipped around his face, framing the paleness and contrasting its shade. Silky dark locks fell over his face, his hand frantically tried to push them back.
She rushed to stand in front of him again as he was about to fall over the bed. She pushed on his shoulders, and Sasuke responded to her pressure and dragged himself backwards; the sheets rustled underneath him. "Let me do this," she murmured.
She climbed on the bed, his thighs bracketing her as she sat on her knees between his splayed legs. Her breathing stilled when she caught the silver moonlight caressing the side of his face, flushing his face, hiding the crimson heat that dripped down his expression. There was a dark headiness swimming in the way Sasuke kept his half-lidded gaze focused on every lineament of her face.
She reached out to unbutton the first button; her fingers brushed against his warm chest underneath. Her eyes began to assess the pale of his skin coming into her view with each button undone with a faint click. Her knuckles slid down the dips and ridges of his lean muscles. The heat sticking to his skin scorched her. She fidgeted and closed her eyes for a moment, not daring to look up and find his intense and unfathomable gaze on her.
His slow and shallow breathing mingled with hers—hers were quick and uneven. With the last button undone, Hinata found Sasuke quiet but bare in front of her. Her eyes traced the path of the scars on his abdomen, the slashes looked fresh, gnawing. The delicate, unmarred skin glinted around his neck where his collarbones bore a few tainting marks only. Her hands gripped the lapels of his shirt in a firm squeeze as she hurriedly slid them off his arms. He squirmed and grumbled, with a tug and pull, Hinata crumbled the shirt and balled it under her imposing grasp and then hurled it towards the corner.
She leaned to the side, picking up the soaked sponge and drew it closer to his body. One light swipe over the length of the neck, and he craned his neck for her. Then she pressed her hand over his collarbones, sliding down to the scarred pectoral muscles where her hands lingered for a beat longer as she heard him gasp under the warmth. The muscles rippling on his abdomen were hard and peppered with scarlet scars. As Hinata's sponge roamed over the lean and solid muscles of his stomach, she felt his body flinch.
But then the clock struck, the day was over with a light clang of the clock's hand drifting forward, taking away the day from her hands. The finality of her life slipping from her grip hit her. Her mind began to replay the memories that made her hands freeze in the mid air, her eyes lowered and screwed shut.
One year since Naruto's demise— the day was over. Finished.
The desire to have Naruto's presence around her was like a ghost that haunted her from time to time —it came back, grabbed her by her nape. She could decorate his absence with the giggles of Haru, with the quiet and lasting presence of Sasuke or with the kick and punch in the training grounds—but what was missing throbbed wildly, pierced through her, clawed at her. The grief she had buried under her routine and motherhood came to the surface.
Her eyes burned with tears that she had been holding onto for the entire day. The clock drifted further, another minute completed, another minute passed since the one whole year of her lover's death. Her tears began to stream down her face, her fingers dug into the sponge she held onto, and the moisture dripped onto his pants. He writhed on the spot, and she sobbed wildly, her heart in her throat, her breathing barely even. Her vision blurred as her tears began to cling to her eyelashes. She blinked rapidly, trying to see the man before her.
In the silence with a noise of a rattling window pane or a flutter of cats in the bushes or the slosh of water as Hinata wrung and squeezed the sponge in the bowl…something else was loud.
Her sniffles.
She felt an encompassing grip on her wrist, his callused fingers on her pulse point where her racing heart jumped. She felt his gentle touch as he pulled the sponge away from her and then whispered to her, leaning closer, holding her by the hip to steady her toppling frame. "Hinata—" his voice was barely audible.
"It's been over a year now! 12:05 am now! Over a year! Can you understand the severity of it, Sasuke?" she cried out, her feverish face was getting red and dull. "And look at what I'm doing…cleaning his best friend's drunk existence with a damn sponge while he is on my bed—"
Sasuke drawled, his voice thick and unraveling at the edges, "Hinata, look—"
The wave came without a warning, the storm broke from inside her.
"Look at what, Sasuke?" Her voice trembled as it rose, splintering under the weight of restraint. "You can't even keep your eyes open! I understand—the letter was heavy for you, but what about me?" Her voice cracked like glass under pressure. "You were gone the entire day, and then you return like this—smelling of sake, looking like the world spat you out—and I…" she inhaled sharply, fingers curling into fists at her sides, "I've been holding myself together since the moment I opened my eyes today! I—I don't even know what I'm saying or expecting from you. I just…"
"I…don't know what to say!" He choked out, leaning forward.
"How would you know? You're stupid drunk right now, can't even sit straight and …Uh, Sasuke …No!" Hinata yelped when she felt his arm rounding her waist, pulling her atop of him as he fell back on the mattress.
Their legs tangled, her hips pressing flush against his, her chest colliding with his bare, water-slick torso. Her shirt soaked instantly, clinging to the droplets that still shimmered along his skin. His body was hot—burning, and every inch of it pulsed with an intoxicating heat she had no strength left to resist.
"What are you—?" she squirmed, trying to push up, but only managed to glide along his damp chest, her body slipping, the friction excruciating in its intimacy, causing his muscles to twitch beneath her.
"Don't cry," he murmured, voice hoarse. His hand slid up her back, warm and slow, stopping at her nape. His fingers dug gently into the flesh there, kneading, curling, twirling strands of hair like they were fragile silk. Her spine sizzled under his touch.
"Do I even deserve to cry over him?" she whispered brokenly, hands planted on his chest, trembling. "Please—let me go…"
But his arm remained tight around her waist. He didn't speak again, just leaned his head into the mattress and let out a low, pained sound—something between a groan and a sigh.
The resistance, the hesitance and the surprise left her body as the urge to drown in his comfort took over.
Hinata buried her face in the crook of his neck, sobbing and snifling. Convulsions shook her shoulders. His fingers threaded in her hair at the back of her head, and her hand held onto his shoulders like an anchor. His voice was dry and raspy against her ear, "The way he wrote about you to me…the way he used to talk to me about you…you should not question what you deserve when Naruto is concerned!"
She remained quiet. Taking in the sheer absurdity of the moment—Sasuke was drunk in her room, on her bed, laying on his back with Hinata crumbling on top of him, suppressing her painful cries as she buried her face in the warm hollow under his chin while he tried his best to gently cradle the back of her head, rubbing soothing circles on her scalp turning her shrill cries into a string of low whimpers.
His body was heat and steel beneath her, a furnace as a human.
Exhaustion seeped through her.
She basked in his warmth; her tears tracked down his chest as she wept against his skin. A hiccup, raw and sudden. An ache, agonizing and distressing. Her muscles clenched, flinching with soreness. The tenderness emanating from his hardened body began to quell the prickling stress from deep within her bones.
Time began to fold.
Her mind reeled. Blurring her thoughts. Her eyes were glazed with tears, and she began to drift into nothingness. Her breathing settled into a shallow rhythm. The grief churned within her, but ebbing with each passing second. The bizarre comfort in the embrace of a man who took away the one man she couldn't possibly forget…seemed irrational.
Naruto's embrace almost felt cool, refreshing…like a shy hug under the vast sky with a blossoming breeze whipping at her.
Sasuke's embrace was tight. Close. Bare of any boundaries. Heated. Like walking on burning coals. Yet the fire that engulfed her cleansed her.
She breathed heavily. Her body sank on his, a lulling silence drew her closer to the edge.
His voice cut through, "You slept?"
Her eyes flew open wide. And immediately, heat flooded her cheeks as she could swallow to catch a breath and tasted his scent on her tongue. She tried to sit up, pull away, push off and disentangle herself from the messy drunken haze with stunned faces, sweat-clad bodies, shallow and ragged breathing and possessing embraces.
"Ah…sorry, I should bring Haru here—" She staggered back and stumbled her way to stand on the side of the bed. Her eyes took in the sight of Sasuke splayed on her bed, bare of his shirt, his dark hair sticking to his forehead and spreading around him like a dark shroud, his legs dangling off the bed, and his chest rose and fell with stuttering breathing. "I'm sorry, I just…" she said, and he grumbled, his elbows digging into the mattress as he pulled himself up.
"Hinata—"
Hinata straightened her posture slowly, spine taut as if reclaiming a fragment of composure. Her gaze drifted over him—too long, too lingering—but she schooled her expression into something cool, neutral, unreadable. She refused to betray the storm beneath her skin, the way his words had carved cracks into her resolve.
"Take off your shoes," she said at last, her voice low and level, edged with quiet command.
He blinked at her, slow and slightly dazed, as though her words had taken a second longer to land in his alcohol-fogged mind. But something in her tone—firm, untouchable—cut through the haze. Sasuke made a faint grunt of protest as he sat up, hunching forward to stare at his shoes, but then shifted, beginning to fumble with the laces.
"And lie down straight," she added, glancing toward the bed's alignment. "You're falling off the mattress."
Indeed, they had collapsed diagonally in that tangled sprawl, his legs hanging off one edge, her knees pressing into the other corner. The sight was almost absurd—a drunken ex-shinobi, half undressed and soaked in grief, sprawled crookedly across her bed like a discarded storm.
He gave her a tired smirk as he kicked off his shoes, one foot at a time, the movements sluggish. "Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep and irony.
She nodded, ignoring the deep look he kept on her, "I'll bring Haru—"
Before she could turn around and finally leave, her steps betrayed her with their lack of speed as his hand shot out to grab her by her wrist, her pulse quickened under his grip. Her chest simmered with a quiet protest.
"I told him …" he began, his voice sounded winded. "I told him that his Hinata is kind…yes, but incomplete." He let out a scoff, she frowned, and her lips parted, juggling with any defense. "But my Hinata is cruel at times…enough cruel to slap me…wish death upon me—"
Hinata's senses flared. She hesitated to interrupt him, but she winced, "I'm sorry for that! I was not in the right—"
"I know…but that's a part of you as a whole. And I've seen that. Perhaps…only I have seen that." Sasuke's hand slipped off her wrist, her hand fell limp at her side, carrying the branding of his touch. "He always saw you shine…I had seen you in shambles, with barely any light…I've seen the rest …"
"Why—" Hinata's surprise left her puzzled. There was an edge of pride in the way Sasuke presented his superiority of being aware of Hinata in the truest way. But why?
Sasuke shrugged, sliding up on the bed as he swung his legs above the mattress and plopped back on the pillow, "I don't know why I told him that…perhaps…I wanted him to know that no matter how much you burn me…I'll take it, I'll bear it …not just for Naruto but because…I don't mind it."
She stammered, "What do y-you mean?" Her emotions were on the loose, bursting within her.
"How the heck do I know, Hinata!" his words dragged, his voice loud and booming as he closed his eyes and shoved his face in the pillow, grumbling.
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Hinata descended downstairs hurriedly, tucking everything that had transpired just a moment ago— Sasuke's grief-soaked voice, his warm embrace, her outburst, her body curling around his—into the shrouded corners of her mind while shaking her head and pressing her bare feet on the stairs with a thump. The silence of the house folded around her as she drifted towards the living room.
Haru.
Her baby was up, sitting up in his crib, groggy-eyed and fussing. His small, fisted hands rubbed the corner of his eyes. Little whimpers escaped his lips. His cheeks were flushed with sleep. The orange beanie dangled off his head, and he brought his fox plushie close to his chest and squeaked. His hair was sticking up like blonde feathers. When his bright eyes landed on her, his lips wobbled into a pout, "Mama!" He raised his arm and his palm clawed at the air as if to call her.
She rushed towards him, gathered him off the crib and curled him into her arms. His small arm snaked around her neck. "Today you'll sleep with Dada, okay?" she whispered, kissing his temple.
"Dada?" Haru mumbled, thumb hovering near his mouth.
"Yes," she murmured, carrying him upstairs with careful steps. "He's upstairs. We'll be quiet, okay?"
Haru hummed, his head nestled against her shoulder. The soft patter of his hand tapping her collarbone was rhythmic, soothing.
Back in her room, there was a stillness that lingered. Sasuke had fallen into his slumber, a sleep in which he collapsed. He shifted onto his side, one hand tucked beneath his head. His upper body—pale and bare—bore the scars of his past that glinted under the moonlight, whispering inside her room, falling over her bed. He stirred with a light twitch. Hinata's eyes could catch the slight flutter of chakra swirling around him, fueling him or guarding him, she could only suppose.
Hinata set Haru down on the mattress with the gentleness of a falling petal.
Haru blinked at Sasuke, then crawled clumsily across the bed on unsteady arms and knees, his little feet dragging. "Dada…" he chirped, voice curious, barely above a whisper. Her child pressed against his chest, small fingers patting his collarbone, then his chin. "Sleep wif' Dada?" He whispered his open-mouthed pecks on his chin.
Sasuke fidgeted. His eyes slowly fluttered open, roamed over the little baby stuck to him, reaching out to him. For a lasting moment, he simply stared at the bright blue eyes blinking up at him, in awe, in need …in love. Hinata's breath hitched, her doubts began to sew themselves with fabric of her being, but then a small and faint smile tugged at his lips, his arm came over Haru in a sluggish manner.
Haru lifted his legs in elation, showing off his fox plushie to Sasuke, "Foz, Dada …" Sasuke pulled him into the crook of his arm and wrapped his arm around him tighter, pressing his nose into Haru's soft hair.
His voice was slurry. "Mmm, night!"
Hinata leaned forward on the bed, putting another pillow beside Haru in case he wrenched himself out of Sasuke's hold and crawled away. Then she stumbled back and plopped onto her couch, keeping her eyes on her baby dozing off in the embrace of a man she could never seem to fathom; someone who sought her forgiveness, but she had her heart wired to the perceived notion of the fruitlessness of forgiveness.
Because Naruto was gone.
Forgiveness or not, Naruto, her lover, was gone.
Because the man who was across her, on her bed, caressing the cheek of her child, even when he was soaked in sleep, had his fist shoved into Naruto's chest a year ago.
The crimson hands, the bloodied hands of Sasuke…were somehow soft enough for Haru to curl his tiny hand around his fingers and bring them to his chest as he huddled closer to his Dada.
She brought her knees up on the couch, looping her arms around them as she fought the wave of sleep, trying to keep her eyes open and trained on Sasuke and Haru. The residual of his disrupted chakra could always fold and twist and turn ugly, paving the path for his mind to conjure the nightmares that he often fought in his sleep while yelling for his own 'Mother'.
Time continued to stretch. Hinata's eyes felt heavy. She almost dozed off, hitting her head on her knee, jolting herself awake. She covered her mouth with her fist as she let the yawn dissipate.
Her vision blurred, dazed with sleep. But she noticed the sheen on Sasuke's forehead and a jerk in his leg beneath the covers. His breathing faltered as slow and faint huffs escaped his mouth. A light frown sat between his eyebrows, his jaw twitching and clenching.
Hinata dragged her feet to the floor and rose from the couch, swiftly moving towards the bed, climbing from the empty side and settling herself beside Sasuke, curled up with Haru. His trembling hands on Haru while Haru's nose buried in Sasuke's chest, inhaling his pine-like scent, but also feeling the heat of his rattled chakra.
Hinata pressed her hand on Sasuke's forehead, rubbing his fingers on the center, mumbling, "Sasuke…it's okay," she very well knew the burns one could have from the nightmares, so her heart shattered seeing the strongest shinobi of the shinobi world crashing under the thunder of his unfortunate memories.
Sasuke's memories were poison, hollowing him with their every replay. She had lived in one of his memories, she reminisced about the bare ache it left deep in her bones. She mused while running her hand through his hair; What are you suffering with this time, Sasuke? She wondered if it was the blood splattered streets again with bodies lying lifeless and drained, a gaping hole in their chest or a sleek slash—seven year old Sasuke running towards every Uchiha with barely any light left in their chests, his tears stinging his face and his black shoes dirtied, his pale face bloodied…Hinata had to swallow back the urge to throw up as she relived the trauma for a moment too long yet again.
The tension began to ebb from his body, and he fell deeper into the mattress, cozying up with Haru again, mumuring something incoherent but warm. His fingers flexed and then eased, his face smoothened—he began to look like he was fostering courage within him to wake up the next morning and face the love despite living hell in his brain.
Grief was an endless staircase, Hinata knew that.
She knew that despite the fleeting peace softening his expressions, numbing his whimpers, dulling his erupting chakra…the grief would hold him again by his throat, and she wondered if the next time she'd be beside him, massaging his temples and letting his thick hair coil around her delicate fingers or not.
She remained there on the bed, feeling a light kick from Haru as he shifted onto his stomach, yet keeping one of his hands around Sasuke's neck.
Time ticked, moments passed, the night deepened.
Her eyes began to flutter shut, her body turning limp on the bed as she instinctively draped the covers over herself and slipped onto the bed, her fingers still tangled in Sasuke's hair.
The grief finally rested.
The world was silent around her, except the soft snores from her baby and grunts from Sasuke.
The ghost of sleep slowly encroached on her space, an abyss called out to her, drowning her.
.
.
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Hinata stirred, her muscles aching. Her lashes fluttered against the pillow beneath her when she attempted to open her eyes, heavy and crusted with sleep at the corners. The golden light glided through the edges of the room, bathing it in a warm glow, the sunlight filtering through the thin curtains kissed the walls, brushed against the bed and painted over the ceiling.
She blinked, groaned. Groggy eyes wavered as they almost shut with sleep still webbing her limbs. The air hung around her, carrying the scent of Jasmine and wet grass. Her mouth parted for a yawn as she raised her hands and lengthened her legs to stretch the ache out of them.
One minute turned to smoke.
Then another.
Then another one bit the dust.
After a couple of minutes, she felt the rumbling sensation thumping in her chest at the dip of the bed beside her. I am not alone. For a clueless moment, her memory served her with nasty humour as last night simply vanished; perhaps a way to suppress the day of Naruto's death.
Her breath caught in her throat when she turned her head to the side, seeing only white. His pale face.
Sasuke lay beside her, facedown, his body sprawled like someone who had surrendered to gravity itself. One arm was folded beneath the pillow, the other stretched diagonally across the bed, where his hand clasped hers.
Her gaze darted down.
Their fingers were intertwined. His grip was loose but firm, as though even in sleep, he refused to let go. Unaware of how, under the intoxicated slumber, her hand found its home in his grasp. His fingers clenched her hands, squeezing the life out of her in desperation or something…deeper.
It had been multiple times where Hinata had had Sasuke's finger over her pulse points, circled around her wrist, fingers threaded with hers, but never in her room, on her bed, while he remained shirtless, and she was stunned to even fathom the absurd intimacy of all that.
Her heart pounded. Breathing became laborious as if she felt the trembled in a puff of air escaping her mouth. Her throat was dry, she gulped as her eyes traced the length of his frame beside her. His shirtless back rose and fell with slow and uneven breathing, his face turned towards her, and his dark locks fell over his face, catching the sunbeam, appearing a muted dark blue with a sheen.
Hinata's body instinctively moved to her side, using her free hand to tuck away the hair from his face, revealing the boyish looks with tension easing out of his every breath and scar and line on his face.
He looked as if he was stripped down to his real core. And his beauty, often considered delicate due to refined and perfectly balanced features, was considered elegant and sophisticated. But as she looked deeper in the darkness of his eyes or in the stains of and from his pain or in the warm gasps escaping his mouth, she concluded that there was a rawness in Sasuke's face, a realistic whisper in the shadows under his eyes.
Raw. Beautiful.
Sharp. Beautiful.
A beauty that could cut you in half if she looked too long.
Haru shuffled over Sasuke's back, rubbing his nose on his nape. Sasuke's calves flinched and clenched, his eyebrows tightened, and his cheeks flushed.
Hinata blinked slowly, swallowing the heat building in her throat. She pulled her hand back from his face, her fingers burned with a tingling sensation ignited on her fingertips. She breathed slowly and steadily, staring at her other hand lay woven with his.
Her heart drummed with low, aching beats, her awareness surged, reminding her of the familiar yet foreign touch. She gently curled her fingers in, pressing against Sasuke's palm, and then tried to pull away. The moment their skin began to part, his fingers flexed instinctively, unwilling to let go. She let out a wince as his bigger hand held onto her with a tug.
She huffed. Looking over the way his jaw twitched. His expression contorted, she again tried to wrench her hand off his, but his frown deepened, sleep still kept him under its spell, but his lips parted with soft breathing.
The weight of her baby sprawled on his back shifted. Hinata carefully reached across Sasuke's back and slid her hands under Haru's warm belly, peeling him gently from his back with her free hand and rested him between them. Haru whimpered then slumped towards Sasuke, keeping his little head over her bicep. Hinata leaned down to press a soft kiss on the crown of his head and pulled herself to sit up, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.
An arresting grip on her palm was splitting her soul in half. Panic flared within her, her spine went stiff against the headboard, her pulse ticking violently under his thumb.
"Sasuke …" She jerked her head to the side and whispered, hoping that he could let her go without waking up himself.
Last night surged back like a riptide; his drunken miseries, her tears on his bare skin, his warmth on her bed, her shrouding sleep beside him…beside a man who was not Naruto.
Waking up beside someone who was not Naruto, while having her hand in his, began to irk like a sin from which she'd never heal.
But his grip softened, melting into something else—his thumb brushing her pulse gently, grounding her. Her thoughts paused, numbing her turmoil.
"Hinata…" he mumbled, eyes still closed, lashes trembling. His voice was hoarse and slurred with sleep. "You smell …so good." He released a heavy breath, and Hinata closed her eyes, letting the scent in the air seep through her; she could only smell the faint intoxication mingled with the earthy and woody scent of his existence.
She felt her heart shaking at the proximity.
She leaned to his side, her free hand rubbing between his eyebrows, and the tightness in his expression dissipated. Then with a light tug, she released her hand from his. His hand clenched into a fist, then clawed the air, seeking the phantom touch of her softness.
She kicked the sheets off her legs and hopped off the bed, breathing unevenly. Her eyes looked at the soft glow of the sun bathing her son and her…the man who was somehow her constant— Sasuke. His paleness glinted under the sunbeams while her son's tanned skin turned warmer with a honeyed hue.
Hinata could see herself falling into the comfort, but she reminded herself that her indulgence in that would shift the tide, and she wasn't ready to be drenched by the waves of a new life…exactly after a year of Naruto's demise.
She turned on her heels and rushed inside the bathroom, hoping that the hot water sliding down her skin would release the stress aching in her bones and prickling her veins.
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A/N: REVIEWS AND FAVS ARE LOVED!