- The Royal Garden, where flowers prepare to witness a murder -
Ino Yamanaka, the royal gardener, has a tool in her grasp that would better fit a surgeon than a florist.
It's some sort of grabber, if Sasuke had to put a name to it. A yanking device, perhaps to pull out teeth, or shards of a broken bone, or glass deep within one's feet.
Today, it will be used to pluck flowers.
Sasuke, despite traveling the world, does not know the names of many flowers. There are marigolds in the garden, and there are lavender and roses and bluebells; but there are also flowers that look like monarch wings and flowers with petals the shade of sapphires and flowers that wear their leaves like a gown. He does not know the names of these flowers, but they stand on the tips of their stems as Empress Hinata sits on the bench before them. They shudder in the wind and weep as their daisy sisters are on the stage for execution.
There are very few people around. If what he's been told is true and the removal process of these daisies is a wretched pain, then Sasuke would think more staff would be about the gardens. Doctors. Nurses. Herbalists. None of the sort. There is the gardener, and there is Kō, and there is Karin, and there is Sasuke; that is all. They are the only ones here to witness the Empress in her most painful of moments.
Perhaps that is why there are so very few people.
The face of an anguished Empress is just as much a curse as the flowers growing out of her very ears.
Sasuke only has one job here. Once the daisies are removed, he will retrieve them and hurry off to his basement laboratory. He will poke and prod and experiment on whatever he finds in order to figure out the workings of this mysterious curse.
Technically, he does not have to be here.
He could wait in the royal stables or in the library for a maid to bring him the flowers.
But when Karin had come to the stables to bring the Empress here, Hinata had stayed by the doors, waiting for him, expectant. He was meant to come. She didn't comprehend for a moment that he would not be there with her.
Why?
This is what Sasuke wonders as Ino wipes her tool in a pristine rag, ridding it of any muck. Why does an Empress want him? Beyond fixing a curse, what has he to offer? Many things, technically — but what in particular has caught the Empress's attention?
With the removal of her daisies, Sasuke hopes to answer this question immediately.
"I'm ready," Ino says. Her long hair is tied back, stretching the skin around her temples some. She looks critical, which is a strange look for a Yamanaka. They're a prestigious family known for their talent in herbs and flora. They are crafty and loud and a little nosy when drunk, but rarely are they critical, and rarely do they regard flowers like the enemy. Ino pats Hinata's shoulder, making the Empress lift her eyes from the garden surrounding her. "Are you prepared?"
Hinata nods, trying to hold her brave face. Sasuke, however, sees her shaky fingers, and he watches her eyes squeeze shut as Ino lifts her metal tool to her ear. It takes the stem from one of the daisies, tugs, then yanks in one go. Tears carve down Hinata's face, followed by a small creek of blood down the side of her neck as Ino drops the removed flower's corpse into a glass platter. The garden turns away, upset, and so do the people within it as Ino goes for another.
Sasuke watches.
He sees Hinata's shoulders jump with her muffled sobs, and he sees the blood slipping from her ears stain the collar of her gown. He can smell it. He almost wants to taste it, and he wonders what flavors he'd find this time.
…
Three more daisies.
The wood of the bench rattles with Hinata.
Ino dabs away some of the blood with the same rag she used to clean her tool. A needless action, for more blood is to follow once she plucks another flower.
They pile up in the platter. It looks like a battlefield after a gruesome war.
Hinata moans and weeps. Gone is the prestigious Empress. She is nothing but a pitiful child. Ugly and tear-stained and white and veiny and bleeding. Karin and Kō huddle together, pretending to be busy. They murmur, and when Hinata cries, they pause and swallow and shift and mutter some more. They give her the privacy she deserves. They protect her pride, her integrity.
Sasuke, still, does not look away.
When one ear is finished, Ino wipes the blood, and then moves to the other.
"Tell me when you're prepared," she whispers.
Hinata wipes her face with a handkerchief, shudders, and looks back at him. Her hand lifts, and before he understands it, he's holding it. Her other hand pulls him a little closer, sandwiching his fingers between hers, and she holds on and grits her teeth and nods.
Ino starts, and Hinata squeezes. It hurts, actually. Not a lot, but enough to get Sasuke's attention. Her knuckles look like exposed bone. Fresh blood comes from the second ear as another flower is ripped out. She screams, then groans, then leans her head against his arm. One of her nails traces shapes into palm, and he rolls up his sleeve a little to let her bite down on it. He tries to understand the shapes, but he can't. They go by too quickly; and when he begins to smell his own blood, he smells the stench of his magic, and it blends into hers and makes a concoction that is overwhelming, but not disgusting.
…
When it is done, there are about sixteen daisies lying in the platter, dead.
Ino wipes her tool, and Karin stands in front of her lady. The sun is just high enough to stare into Hinata's eyes, but her lady-in-waiting is a sturdy, protective piller, and her shadow gives shade as she leans forward. First, Karin flutters her fingers around Hinata's right ear, making no more than a whispering sound; then, she snaps her fingers along her left ear, watching the Empress's reaction critically.
Hinata blinks, then smiles.
"Can you hear, milady?" Karin asks.
And Hinata says, "I can hear you."
And Sasuke — well — stunned isn't the right word, necessarily. Stunned implies a sort of awe-inspiring — and that implies a sort of affection Sasuke does not have. Not here, in the Kingdom of Konoha. Not when Itachi is still missing.
But . . . there is something about Hinata's voice that makes things change, a little. When it is not a pleading, weak "Naruto" in the darkness of a dusty barn, her voice is what an Empress's voice should sound like, and that image in his head of a curious but fragile princess changes in his head — a little. Her blood stains the air, the bench she sits upon, and for the moment, she is uncursed.
Kō touches the Empress's hand, and he bows his chin so that she might hear his words in the soft pull of the wind. "And shall we continue preparations, Empress?"
The strange, off-white eyes of a Hyuuga sparkle like polished gemstones. She looks at Sasuke, and she says, "Oh, yes!"
Karin bites her lips to keep what Sasuke can only assume to be an overjoyed screech trapped within her throat. Kō pats her hand with finality, and then he goes along with Karin, who squawks about this and that, about the polished silver and the tables that will be set out, as they make their way inside the palace. Ino drops the platter of flowers into Sasuke's hands, and then she bows respectfully to her empress before gathering her things and going back to her usual job of upkeeping the garden.
"I am sorry if I hurt you." He looks up from the daisies when Hinata speaks again. Her eyes stray on the hand she clutched, then back at him. "I do appreciate you staying with me. You are incredibly comforting."
He'd think she was being sarcastic if she wasn't so annoyingly genuine.
"For the flowers," he drawls. "I stayed to retrieve them. I will take them to the laboratory now."
He is about to bow and be on his way, but Hinata stands. The skirt of her gown is dirty, and the soles of her slippers are caked in mud, and the unbrushed curl of her hair is not the most upstanding style in the world; she is so beyond her image of an Empress, but at the same time, Sasuke can treat her as nothing but that. She is not tall, and she certainly does not tower like the men often around her, but he still holds his tongue and stands before her with the respect she deserves.
How strange.
This is the same child that came running to him just last night.
"If I asked you to accompany me for the rest of the day," she says smoothly, evenly, "would you?"
Sasuke peers down at the platter full of the very things he has been all too patiently waiting to have in his grasp. Why, suddenly, he feels like he has enough patience to wait another day or two is beyond him.
"I don't have the power to ignore a command from the Empress."
"Oh. Well." Her smile wavers, but not in the fashion like it might disappear. If Sasuke had to guess (and he has the reputation of being a good guesser, after all), he'd say, if anything, she is trying to keep her smile from growing any larger. "I suppose you're right, Sasuke."
Air gets stuck in his mouth. Caduceus vibrates against his ribs, and he chokes, then coughs.
Hinata, startled, watches him closely, but he waves her away and catches his breath.
He has heard his name a million and one times, he thinks.
It is nothing. Especially from her.
Even if it has been an inaudible whisper since his arrival — just something her mouth shapes on occasion — it really matters not who says it.
Honestly.
...
Behind a door that he all too well knows leads into the royal washroom, Hinata asks one simple question.
"Do you know how to ride, Sasuke?"
Before he can answer, Karin speaks behind the very same wall. "Yes, of course, milady. When he was a boy, he and his brother and Naruto would ride all over — heavens, my lady, your hair is a mess! It will take me years to comb it straight."
"I am sorry, Karin. Please don't mess with it until I'm back from my ride." There's a slip of something, and then the soft thunk of a gown hitting the tile floor of the bathroom. When this is followed by the swish of water from the bath, Sasuke takes calculated steps away from the door so he does not have to hear every pen drop and every single detail. When the Empress asked him to accompany her, really, he hadn't believed she meant to this extent. "I'll just have it tied."
"You are bad for my nerves, milady." Karin sighs, and her heeled shoes click about the tile as she moves around the room. "Yes, Sasuke knows how to ride. Horses, and snakes, apparently."
"Don't be jealous, Karin," he calls. "It makes your already plain face look horrid. Not a good sight for the Empress, I assure you."
"Rat!" Karin barks.
Hinata's laugh plays along with the pour of water. "Oh, I do enjoy hearing again. You hide your mouth when you say awful words, Karin, but I always know what you're saying."
"I am ashamed, Your Highness."
"I only ask that you don't hide your mouth. Say whatever you please. Simply allow me to read your lips."
They are in a part of the castle that is secluded. No one often strays around these corridors, so Sasuke is able to relax in the seclusion. In a way, he almost feels like a bodyguard protecting the Empress from peeping perverts. Not that she needs one, of course. The doors have locks, and Karin, he suspects, could take one of those heeled shoes of hers and knock any man out with it in ten seconds.
"Will you ride with me, Sasuke?" Hinata calls.
"Please keep your mouth shut, milady," Karin scolds. "I do not want the soap to slip inside."
He can smell it. Overly flowery for his nose. He huffs and says, "I fear my horse-riding days are behind me, my lady."
"Posh," Karin spits. "You just don't want to make a fool of yourself in front of the Empress."
Tch. So annoying.
It's quiet for a while, and then water pours as Karin seemingly rinses Hinata's hair. Sasuke tries not to visualize it in his head too much.
Why must I wait here, again?
"I won't force you to ride," she finally answers. "You being there is enough. Oh, and please bring — bring A — Oh — Ohd—"
"Aoda," he offers.
"Does he still talk? I would love to speak with him."
Off in other parts of the palace, there is rumble and cacophony. Moving furniture. Lady talk. Barking orders and clambering feet.
"He talks," Sasuke says. "He is much more eloquent than even your own lady-in-waiting."
"Not another word from you," Karin sneers, "or I will simply beg milady to ban you from tonight's ball."
Ah. So that's it.
No wonder there is such noise.
Another splash of water, and then a shuffle of fabric before the voices move into the attached royal chambers. The usual guards who stand here are long gone, perhaps given a day off per the Empress's request. Once again, Sasuke feels like a dog set here to guard and scare away any wrongdoers.
"You'd do me a favor," he murmurs, which neither the Empress or her lady-in-waiting hears.
"I wouldn't think of it," Hinata says. "Sasuke is allowed to go anywhere he pleases."
If only that were true. As of right now, he's stuck to loiter here like a fool.
"My lady — no — I wish you'd wear a skirt like a lady should," Karin groans.
Sasuke recalls the baffled look on the stable boys' faces when she had come to help him wash Aoda in pants. It seems the Empress has learned from her late husband how to earn a reaction from people. His suspicions are made true when, minutes later, Hinata comes from her chambers dressed in a jockey jacket, boots, and pants. Karin is in disarray, and Sasuke smirks as he follows along the Empress.
"Your hair is still wet, my lady! You'll catch cold!"
"I will return this evening, Karin. Please take the afternoon to relax."
"RELAX!?" Karin bellows down the corridor. "Relax on the day of the ball? My lady, you wound me!"
Hinata snickers, and her cheeks are flushed, and there is some water still stuck to her lashes — and Sasuke takes it all in.
...
When he brings out Aoda from the barn to stretch out in the grass, Kiba Inuzuka brings out a brown horse with blonde hair and eyes that look a little like Naruto's. Not in color, but in hutzpah. In fire. Hinata caresses its nose, then hops onto it with a learned grace. She talks to it as it takes her down the path, and she smiles like a child.
"That's the one," Kiba says. "The one that killed the late emperor."
Sasuke's unbothered gaze sharpens into a glare. It takes Kiba's hand on his shoulder to hinder his reach for Caduceus.
"She's safe," he adds.
"I'm sure you thought the same thing," Sasuke mutters, "before it killed Naruto."
Rather than deny it, Kiba lets go of his shoulder.
"If you care so much, why did you not come to the funeral?"
Sasuke snaps his teeth together, but poison brews on his tongue. He wants to spit it out and watch Kiba's face melt off his bones — but that won't give him any satisfaction, and it won't bring Naruto back from the dead. Nothing will. No magic. No spells. If Sasuke had come, nothing would have changed. He'd still be dead, and Hinata would still be cursed — and it's all so useless to think about now.
But he is.
And the guilt eats at him every day he's here — and it's useless — and he hates it; but he's still here.
"When your Empress dies to the same horse," Sasuke bites, "you will wish I had killed it sooner."
...
He follows her, because despite it all, he still doesn't want to leave her alone with that horse.
She's galloping along the field, her braid flying behind her like a tail. She rides on the very thing that killed her husband, but she looks like she belongs on that horse, like she is half herself when she's away from it. Sasuke will never understand, nor does he want to. They're all fools. Her, and Kiba Inuzuka, and everyone else.
Spotting him, Hinata brings the horse over, and he doesn't dare look it in the eye as Caduceus hisses in its sling.
"I am sorry," she says in a breath, as if she's been the one galloping about the place. "I did not mean to ignore you. See, well, with the flowers, my balance is off, and I do not get to ride like I wish to."
"I don't care." His voice is far too poisonous, so he hurries for something else to say before she's stung too deeply. "If there's a ball, shouldn't you be in there, ordering people around and telling the cooks what wine to serve?"
Hinata turns the horse so that it's at his side. His eyes remain on the horizon as he walks along with it.
"Well, normally yes. But — hum. I only get one day before the flowers grow back, so I leave them to it for today."
"I'm sure Karin doesn't mind the power."
"I spoil her so." She laughs. It's louder than the ones he's heard from her before. Perhaps when you hear your own laugh, you have more reason to be loud about it. "I don't think you have met Himawari. She was Naruto's number one when — when, um . . . well, you understand."
Sunflower.
Too cheerful a name for such a beast.
"She's the color of sunflower seeds," Hinata continues. "My family has a history with flowers. My mother used to tell me that they will protect me from harm."
"Ironic," Sasuke drones. Hinata looks down at him with owl eyes, and he gestures to his ears. "The curse."
"Oh." Her smile falls. "I suppose so."
"Would anyone in your family have the motive to curse you?"
She thinks for a moment, and that's all he needs to know.
"My relationship with them is unsteady at times," she says, "but I wouldn't suspect anyone of such a thing."
Of course, she wouldn't. A kind Empress like her is also a gullible one. If she has the mind to ride the horse that killed her beloved, then she has the mind to forgive almost anything. Nothing is evil in her eyes. Her very sister might have cursed her, and Hinata would still think little of it. She'd wave it off with the white lace of her handkerchief, and nothing would be fixed, and the cycle would start all over. A year from now, Sasuke will be called to break another curse. This time, he'll ignore it.
Surely, he will.
...
Hinata does not ride for much longer.
She dismounts Himawari, and Kiba takes her away with an apple in hand. Still, Hinata does not leave the pasture. She joins Aoda's side, tracing each diamond scale her fingers find.
"I shouldn't have done that."
"Done what?" he asks.
"Rode Himawari next to you." She has the same strained smile Naruto used to have back when they were kids. "Of course, you wouldn't like it. I was careless."
Now he feels like a child being pitied by his mother. The Empress of Konoha has a talent at being courteous to an irritating degree. He huffs through his nose, and Aoda lifts his head, smelling his annoyance.
"Why haven't you killed it?" he asks.
"Can I ride you?" Her face turns upwards, nearly meeting with the snake's chin.
His tongue flickers. Her genuinity tastes like syrup. It is sugary and gooey and far too much for Sasuke's liking. Aoda, however, seems pleased with something new and unfamiliar to his palette. He drops his head like a respectable gentleman would lower his hat to a lady, and she grins and curtsies her non-existent skirt.
"Of course, Hinata," he hisses.
"Aren't you lovely."
Her hand reaches up, as if to find a saddle to grab onto; but, of course, there is nothing there. Her fingers fold at her chin as she ponders, and Aoda chuckles as Sasuke grabs her waist and hoists her up. Her surprised laugh bounces along his pulse.
"Join me," she says from her perch on Aoda's back.
Sasuke frowns. "Only if you answer my question."
She hums teasingly, then thinks a little harder about it. "Why I haven't had Himawari killed? Well, why should I? I suppose that's my line of thinking."
Why? Sasuke thinks the why is very clear.
"That beast killed Naruto."
Immediately, her eyes twinkle in that way only watery, off-white Hyuuga eyes can. Shit. He's not trying to make her cry, believe it or not. She's annoying, and oblivious, and too nice — but he doesn't hate her.
"I haven't forgotten," she says.
"Then why?"
She pats the spot behind her. Sasuke scowls and tries to climb up in front of her, but she scootches forward and gives him a commanding look. The sudden changes between demanding Empress and naive crybaby is giving him whiplash, so Sasuke does as he's told and climbs behind her.
"How do I make him go?" she asks.
Her soap is overwhelming.
For a second, it's all he can focus on.
"You ask him," he mutters, huddling his face close to his cloak. "He's not a horse."
"Aoda," she calls, "can you please take me somewhere? Anywhere will do."
"Yes, my lady."
He lifts upright, and he begins to slither, going over the fence and along the gravel path with ease only a giant serpent can have.
Hinata reaches back, takes Sasuke's hands, and puts them around her. "Hold on."
"I won't fall," he argues.
"Naruto used to hold on to me, too."
The guilt is resurfacing, though he doesn't know why in this instance. "I'm not Naruto."
At that, she turns her head, smiling. "You're Sasuke."
Stop saying my name, he wants to say. Odd request. What else can she call him if not his name?
Her hands keep him in place.
Eventually, when she returns to exploring Aoda's scales, he doesn't move them.
...
"Animals are more human than we give them credit."
They go around the city. Panic would erupt if a giant snake came slithering through, so Aoda, smartly, takes a path on the outskirts. It is woods, for a while, which reminds Sasuke of his years of doing exactly this — traveling on snakeback. If you asked him if he'd want to drop everything just to go back to that life of travel, of searching, he might say yes. If his pride as a mage wasn't on the line, he might say yes.
But right now, Empress Hinata is with him.
No matter how familiar it is, it's not the same.
It's supposed to be him and Aoda.
But now it's him, Aoda, and her. The straight line of her back curves forward as she leans towards Aoda's head. The slim line of his pupil catches her in the corner of his eye, and he doesn't look miffed at all. Quite the opposite, really.
"Aoda is a proper gentleman," she continues, "and Kiba's Akamaru is a rascal. Animals have personalities, I think. Feelings. Does that make sense?"
Does he have the heart to tell her that it's most likely because of magic?
Yes.
But not right now.
"What are you getting at?" Sasuke asks.
She straightens again. Her hair pops out against the red of her coat. It's almost a perfect braid. It seems Karin's training has come to good use.
"When, um — when Himawari . . . when she —"
"Killed Naruto," he says.
"That. When it happened, she felt guilty. When they found him, she was right next to him, and her head was on his chest. She stayed with him in her final moments. She didn't run." So caught up in her speech, Hinata does not notice the hanging branch coming. Sasuke reaches out and lifts it before it knocks her in the head, then, when the coast is clear, returns to holding onto her. "That's why I wouldn't let them kill her. I couldn't find it in myself."
"You saw her do this?"
"No. Kiba told me."
"And you're sure he wasn't lying?" he asks.
Hinata turns to look at him. "Why would he lie?"
Naive. As expected. "So you feel better. So you don't think he died alone in a field."
The color leaves her face, and she sways, as if the curse has returned and a new batch of flowers have planted themselves in her ears, stealing her balance away.
Fuck.
He's doing it again.
His hold on her tightens a little. "Or it is the truth. It's possible it stayed with him."
"Master considers all options," Aoda kindly adds. "To me, Kiba Inuzuka seems an honest man."
"You're right," she whispers.
And that is it.
...
Aoda takes them to the lavender field he had rested in when they first returned to the Kingdom of Konoha. Hinata slips down his shiny, waxed scales to tread through the flowers, touching them like they were the hands of children. Sasuke tries to stuff his nose in his cloak once more, but even that smells of lavender, so he gives up and waits on Aoda's back.
She doesn't wander far.
Soon, Hinata sits next to the giant snake, braiding a ring of lavender large enough to circle her wrist.
"When you licked my blood," she says, "you drew lavender."
Sasuke leans over, frowning down at her. "I tasted it."
"Do you do that often?"
"I have to," he says. "It tells me the history of that person. It's hard to communicate with you, so my best way of gathering information was through your blood."
Hinata mimics the book motions he did perhaps a handful of times just that day alone. "You read my blood."
He grunts.
"I suppose you didn't find anything useful."
He thinks about the sweet taste of watermelon — Blooming Happiness — which isn't useful, but . . . noteworthy. A nagging question, even, because when he wondered about it, she looked at him, and she made it out to be like he was the cause of that sudden happiness.
It is still a question that bugs him.
And here is Hinata, flowerless, able to hear and answer with ease.
And yet he . . . doesn't.
He doesn't ask.
And he doesn't know why.