Chapter Text
The glow from Hinata’s tablet was the only light left in her apartment.
Outside, the city hummed softly—cars passing, a distant siren, the quiet rhythm of people still awake somewhere beyond the walls. The ordinary world continued on while she sat curled into the corner of her couch, knees tucked to her chest.
Her tablet rested against them, the screen casting pale blue light across her face.
She had already read this chapter three times.
It still made her angry.
Her finger dragged down the screen.
Chapter 12 — The Grand Duke’s Bride
Hinata exhaled slowly.
This novel was supposed to be about Kawaki.
A tragic coming-of-age story about a war orphan who grew up in the household of the realm’s most powerful duke. The story followed him from childhood to adulthood—how he survived loneliness, betrayal, and the expectations of an empire resting on his shoulders.
It was heartbreaking.
It was brilliant.
And it had one character Hinata absolutely despised.
Her eyes narrowed at the screen.
The villainess.
The woman who somehow managed to make every scene worse simply by existing.
The chapter began with the wedding.
A political ceremony wrapped in silk and gold.
No love.
No warmth.
Just obligation.
Hinata scrolled with a sigh.
The bride walked down the aisle with perfect grace, her long dark hair adorned with jewels. Her expression was flawless, elegant, untouchable.
But the narration made the truth clear.
She was furious.
Because the man waiting at the altar was not the one she wanted.
“Unbelievable,” Hinata muttered.
Onscreen, the groom stood tall and composed.
Naruto Uzumaki.
Grand Duke of the Western Provinces. Hero of the last war. The man who rebuilt half the kingdom after the conflict ended.
Hinata’s favorite character.
Her ultimate bias.
The man who adopted a war orphan simply because the boy had nowhere else to go.
And this woman—
Hinata clenched her jaw.
The narration continued.
Lady Hyuuga’s expression darkened the moment she laid eyes on her husband.
Hinata scoffed.
“Of course it did.”
Naruto bowed his head respectfully.
She did not return the gesture.
The scene moved quickly.
The ceremony ended.
The court dispersed.
And then—
The first day of their marriage.
The real beginning of the villainess’s reign.
Hinata leaned forward slightly as the next line appeared.
Her gaze shifted to the child standing beside the Duke.
Hinata inhaled sharply.
There he was.
Kawaki.
Six years old.
Small for his age, with uneven dark hair that looked like it had been cut without care. His eyes were sharp—too sharp for a child—but uncertain at the same time.
The illustration showed him clutching Naruto’s sleeve.
Like it was the only safe place in the room.
Hinata’s chest tightened.
“He’s adorable,” she murmured softly.
Kawaki bowed awkwardly, clearly having practiced beforehand.
The narration described him as nervous. Hopeful.
Trying to do everything correctly.
Because today he would meet his new mother.
Hinata already knew what came next.
She still hated it.
The villainess looked down at him.
And glared.
Not annoyance.
Not indifference.
Actual hostility.
“Oh, absolutely not,” Hinata muttered, scrolling faster.
The next line appeared.
‘I refuse to dine with him,’ Lady Hyuuga said coldly. ‘Or the child.’
Hinata slapped the tablet against her lap.
“What is wrong with you?!”
Onscreen, Naruto stiffened slightly.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Acceptance.
He had expected it.
‘From today onward,’ she continued, ‘my meals will be sent directly to my chambers. I have no intention of playing house.’
Hinata groaned and dragged a hand down her face.
“Unbelievable.”
All because the bride hadn’t gotten what she wanted.
Because the man she had hoped to marry wasn’t Naruto.
It had been the Crown Prince.
Sasuke Uchiha.
Hinata rolled her eyes.
“So you punish your husband and a six-year-old kid for it?”
She resumed scrolling, irritation simmering in her chest.
The narration continued.
In the days that followed, the new Duchess avoided the dining hall completely.
She ignored her husband.
Ignored the servants.
Ignored the child.
And the worst part—
Kawaki kept trying.
Hinata’s finger slowed.
One passage described how the boy waited outside the Duchess’s chambers early one morning.
Another described him bringing flowers from the garden.
Flowers.
Hinata felt her chest ache.
Lady Hyuuga brushed past him without acknowledgment.
“She didn’t even say thank you?” Hinata whispered.
The illustration appeared next.
Naruto stood tall but tired, his cloak draped over his shoulders.
Kawaki stood half behind him.
Small.
Quiet.
Waiting.
Hinata stared at the image for a long moment.
“If you don’t want him,” she muttered bitterly, “then why were you the one who got him?”
She hugged the tablet loosely against her chest.
Naruto deserved better.
Kawaki definitely deserved better.
The narration continued.
Thus began the marriage destined to fail.
Hinata swallowed.
She hated this part of the story.
Because she knew where it went.
A cold household.
A distant marriage.
Kawaki growing up believing he had been unwanted from the beginning.
Naruto enduring everything quietly because that was the kind of man he was.
Hinata stared up at the ceiling.
“If I were there,” she murmured softly, “I’d sit at that table.”
Her voice grew quieter.
“I’d eat breakfast with him.”
She imagined the scene.
Kawaki bringing flowers.
Naruto watching carefully.
“I’d tell him they were pretty,” she continued.
Her throat tightened.
“I’d tell him he did a good job.”
The apartment was silent.
Only the soft hum of the refrigerator filled the room.
Hinata sighed and lay down on her bed, still holding her tablet.
She should stop reading.
She never did.
The next chapter loaded.
Her eyes burned from staring at the screen, but she kept going.
The familiar scene unfolded again.
Kawaki stood in the center of the hall, hands clenched tightly at his sides.
He bowed clumsily.
He had practiced.
You could tell.
Hinata felt dread settle in her stomach.
The villainess looked down at him.
Her lips curled.
‘Don’t make that face,’ she said coldly. ‘You’re not my responsibility.’
Hinata’s fingers tightened around the tablet.
“Stop,” she whispered.
But the story continued.
The hall fell silent.
Naruto stood just behind the boy.
His expression didn’t change.
That was the worst part.
He didn’t argue.
He didn’t defend himself.
He simply placed a hand on Kawaki’s shoulder.
‘You may go,’ he said quietly.
Kawaki bowed again.
Deeper this time.
Then he left the room without a word.
Hinata’s vision blurred.
“That’s it?” she choked.
Her tablet slipped from her hands onto the bed.
“That’s all you do?” she whispered. “You just… stand there?”
Tears burned behind her eyes.
Naruto had always been her favorite character.
Kind.
Understanding.
Steadfast.
The kind of person who carried burdens alone.
And Kawaki—
Kawaki was just a kid.
Hinata pressed the heel of her hand against her mouth.
“If she doesn’t want him,” she whispered into the quiet room, “then give him to someone who does.”
The bedside lamp flickered.
Hinata frowned faintly.
Her limbs suddenly felt heavy.
Strangely numb.
The room spun slightly as exhaustion crashed over her.
“I should… sleep…”
Darkness swallowed her before she could finish the thought.
Hinata woke to softness.
Not the familiar cotton of her sheets, but something smoother. Cooler. Silk slid beneath her fingers when she shifted, the sensation so vivid it jolted her fully awake.
Her eyes flew open.
A canopy of pale fabric arched above her, embroidered with delicate gold thread. Sunlight streamed through tall windows she didn’t recognize, casting warm patterns across a spacious room that definitely wasn’t her apartment.
Hinata sat up slowly.
Her heart began to pound.
“This isn’t… my room.”
The bed was enormous. The blankets were layered with fine embroidery. Even the air smelled faintly of fresh flowers and polished wood.
Nothing about it was familiar.
Her gaze dropped to her hands.
A ring glinted on her left finger.
Gold.
Intricate.
Heavy.
Hinata froze.
“I don’t… own anything like this.”
She turned her hand slowly in the light, watching the ring catch the sun.
It looked expensive.
Very expensive.
Her stomach twisted.
A small table sat beside the bed. On it rested a glass water pitcher, a folded cloth, and a small photo frame.
Frowning, Hinata leaned over and picked it up.
The frame was cool against her fingers.
Inside it was a photograph.
A woman stared back at her.
Hinata blinked.
The woman in the picture was beautiful—elegant in a way that felt almost unreal. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, far longer than Hinata’s had ever been.
But that wasn’t the strangest part.
Her eyes.
They were pale lavender.
Pupil-less.
Almost glowing.
Hinata stared at the image for several seconds before a confused laugh slipped out.
“Wow,” she murmured. “Who even—”
She stopped.
The polished glass of the frame reflected faintly in the sunlight.
And in that reflection—
She saw herself.
Long dark hair spilling over silk sheets.
Lavender eyes staring back in stunned disbelief.
Hinata’s breath caught in her throat.
Slowly, her gaze dropped back to the photograph.
Then back to the reflection.
Then to the photograph again.
The same face.
The same hair.
The same impossible lavender eyes.
Her fingers trembled.
“That’s…”
Her voice barely existed.
“That’s me.”
The realization hit all at once.
The silk bed.
The ring.
The face staring back at her.
Hinata’s mind raced desperately through everything she had read the night before.
The marriage.
The mansion.
The villainess.
“No,” she whispered.
The frame slipped from her hands.
Glass shattered sharply against the marble floor.
Hinata flinched.
The sound echoed through the room as dizziness crashed over her all at once. The world tilted violently.
Her vision blurred.
“No… no, this isn’t—”
Darkness crept in from the edges of her sight.
Somewhere outside the door, a small voice spoke.
Hesitant.
Soft.
“Father…?”
The voice sounded young.
Very young.
A pause followed.
Then the same quiet voice again—closer this time.
“…Mother is awake.”
Hinata tried to lift her head.
But the darkness swallowed her before she could move.
The last thing she heard was the sound of hurried footsteps approaching the door.