Chapter Text
The weather was getting colder in their land and the sky was growing more muddled as the year was coming to an end. It wouldn’t be long until the last leaf would fall.
Hinata blinked up at the bleak, grey sky. When her gaze drifted back down, she briefly looked at the dark shape of the carved up mountains in the distance. The familiar sight of home. Her hands were cold, and she could begin to see her breath become slightly visible in the air.
On either side of her, her teammates walked in a pace that matched hers as they trudged through the familiar streets. Shorter and slower strides of their longer legs, intentional, habitual after years of working as a unit. Even Akamaru, the giant canine, stayed close to her despite taking the lead, knowing to stop and glance back at her and adjust his pace.
Her steps were slower than usual, the space beneath her ribs aching something sharp. She would have to visit the hospital for a proper assessment soon, though she had faith that the field medic nin had done a remarkable job at stitching her back together with that complex jutsu.
Still, Hinata could feel her teammates’ worried and palpable attention searing over her. They had kept their eyes on her during their return journey, shoulders lined with tension built up from the guilt they always felt whenever one of them got hurt, quietly taking turns carrying her on their backs until she had insisted that she could walk once they were at the village gates.
She could have done without being carried, but she would rather keep the peace by giving Kiba and Shino a way to deal with their unwarranted guilt. They wouldn’t listen to her protests anyways, if she had voiced them, and the last thing she wanted was to have Kiba’s fractured emotions find a volatile way of being expressed.
Hinata wished her teammates would not take it personally and be so hard on themselves whenever she got hurt. It was not because they thought of her as weak. They knew she was strong and capable, more than she believed herself to be, but it didn’t stop them from blaming themselves whenever she was injured during missions. It was how they cared, and they cared deeply.
Hinata too felt the same sharp fracture inside her chest whenever Shino, Kiba, or Akamaru suffered harm. She understood all too well what it was like to feel as though pieces of herself were being torn away with every injury they sustained, each mission carrying the dreadful possibility that this time might be different, that this time they might not return. The dread of not knowing if the fatality of it this time would be their last followed them like shackles.
It was an ache familiar to every shinobi who had loved their comrades long enough, but it never became easier to bear. If anything, the fear only deepened with time, because there were more memories to lose.
“I’m fine,” she said softly, again. The reassurance did not make either of their shoulders less strained.
Before she could attempt another futile reassurance, she felt the steady pressure of an attention that had started to become strangely familiar over the past year. Perhaps longer.
Hinata could not honestly say when she had first begun noticing it.
Looking back, there were moments scattered across months that seemed different now when viewed through the lens of hindsight. Instances where she had turned her head only to find dark eyes shifting away a fraction too late. Small occurrences she had dismissed at the time because they had not fit into any explanation she considered possible.
She was not yet certain how to feel about the possibility that this had been going on for longer.
Hinata knew, as she looked ahead, that her gaze would find dark depths set into a carefully guarded face. Sasuke was walking down the opposite side of the street, a shadowy presence amongst the colour and life of civilians and shinobis moving around him.
He always seemed perpetually separate from the world surrounding him.
He was looking at her, but didn’t meet her gaze. He seldom did. His stare was lingering on the bandages visible above the collar of her jacket and down her left arm that extended below her sleeve. There was a nearly imperceptible frown on his face that no one would have noticed, but she had learned to recognise.
It was a strange realisation, one that she made a little over two months ago, that she had learned to know what the little, subtle shifts in Sasuke’s guarded expressions meant. Not the exact meaning of them, no. She didn’t think anyone on earth could ever truly.
Sasuke Uchiha was an anomaly even amongst shinobi. A man who carried entire worlds of thought and emotion behind walls so carefully constructed that most people only ever saw the cold stone exterior. Even those closest to him often seemed uncertain of what lay beneath.
Hinata certainly did not claim to understand him.
But she had begun recognising the subtle shifts. The microscopic changes that appeared and vanished before anyone else could register them. She had begun to recognise the telltale signs of the emotions that he tried to hide, and could tell one barely-there frown apart from another.
This one, she thought, was concern. Not the distant indifference that most people still assumed lived permanently behind Sasuke’s eyes. He wasn’t completely unfeeling as people assumed him to be. And he wasn’t cruel, not maliciously. He wasn’t even unkind, as Hinata had always known since their days at the Academy.
The knowledge sat heavily inside her because it was not an isolated observation. It had happened too many times. Too many small moments collected together over months and months until they no longer felt like coincidence.
Her gaze remained fixed ahead, pretending she had not noticed him watching. Sasuke rarely appreciated having his observations acknowledged. Whenever she accidentally met his eyes while he was looking at her, he would glance away almost immediately, his expression closing like a door slamming shut.
Still, she could feel him. The weight of his attention followed her as steadily as a shadow. His attention always drifting back on her when he deemed it safe enough again.
There had been dozens of moments like this. Small. Insignificant. Easy to explain away individually. Impossible to ignore collectively.
She had noticed that Sasuke always seemed to know when she had returned from a mission, even when they had not been assigned together. As though he had been waiting, which Hinata was still convinced this could not be the case. It would be an absurd presumption.
Sasuke Uchiha having feelings for someone was already difficult enough for most people to imagine. Especially after everything that had transpired; the departures, the war, his redemption, and every tragic suffering he had gone through. Sasuke Uchiha having feelings for Hinata Hyuga seemed even more impossible. The concept of it felt absurd even inside her own head.
Yet she could not find another explanation. Every observation she made seemed to point towards the same conclusion, which contradicted everything she thought she knew of the man.
Sasuke’s carefully guarded expressions betraying his concern was one thing. Friendship could explain concern, though they were not friends. Comradeship could explain concern. They had shared battles before, fighting side by side and protecting one another. It was safe to say they were comrades, or acquaintances at least.
But there were moments when the way Sasuke looked at her felt like neither of those things.
As she watched him now from the corner of her eyes, standing on the opposite side of the street with that faint crease between his brows directed at her injuries, she felt that familiar uncertainty settle over her once more.
The evening had begun innocently enough.
What was intended to be a quick gathering after a long and stressful work day had somehow evolved into a handful of their generation occupying the upper floor of a small izakaya near the centre of Konoha.
The war had ended years ago, but there remained an unspoken tendency amongst them to gravitate towards one another whenever circumstances allowed. Perhaps it was because there were so few people who truly understood what they had survived. Perhaps it was because every one of them had spent too many years wondering whether they would live long enough to reach adulthood.
Either way, the room was filled with familiar faces. Laughter drifted through the warm air.
Ino, in particular, had usually been the one behind planning most of their gatherings. After losing her sensei and her father, which nearly shattered her, everyone did their best to accommodate her.
It was how Hinata found their friendship growing closer, through her offers of spending time with the blonde so that she didn’t sink into depression. That, and also because Kurenai and Mirai were a common denominator for Team Eight and Team Ten now.
At first, it was a peculiar feeling to have the overbearing care and attention of someone other than her teammates. People rarely ever noticed her, unless circumstances forced them to. Somehow, and by their own admissions, Team Ten had taken it upon themselves to share some of Kiba and Shino’s self appointed duties.
She wouldn’t say that they coddled her per say, though she couldn’t deny that her teammates had always given her what Sakura and Ino deemed as princess treatment. To Hinata, it was just the way Shino and Kiba had always treated her since their team was first formed.
Perhaps it stemmed from how everyone naturally treated her with gentleness because she was such a quiet and delicate child, one social pressure away from cracking like porcelain. Then Kurenai had enforced the integrity that Kiba and Shino should always act gentlemanly to her, like opening doors and doing the heavy liftings.
She hadn’t realised how overbearing it was until now though, with her healing injury, which caused even Team Ten to fuss. Hinata had barely any recognition of how she had ended up in a seat within seconds of stepping into the room.
Shikamaru had held the door open for her. Ino had taken off her coat for her, mindful of her tender injury, and passed it off to Shino who had hung it up with care. She was practically lifted onto the nearest chair at the table by Kiba and Choji had placed a drink in front of her before she was done with her greetings.
Naruto was in the middle of some dramatic retelling of a mission that became increasingly exaggerated with every interruption by Sai. Sakura looked torn between amusement and exasperation as she shot her a welcoming smile. Ino and Kiba had cornered a poor staff, requesting for either a blanket for Hinata or for the temperature of the room to be increased.
Hinata sat quietly amongst them, watching it all happen, a cup of tea cradled between her hands.
Tea. Not alcohol. Not because she disliked drinking. Because she was strictly forbidden, under doctor’s orders.
The injury she had sustained nearly two weeks ago had technically healed, thanks to the advanced medical ninjutsu and a week of hospital stay. The tissues were healing properly, though it would leave a scar. The pain was manageable with the medications given. Her chakra pathways had stabilised. Yet every medic who had examined her seemed united in their determination to make her miserable.
No missions for four months, not even the simplest D-rank. Absolutely no sparring. No excessive training for at least three months. No strenuous activity or heavy lifting. No exceptions.
Hinata was trying not to let the restlessness get to her. It was manageable while she tried to pick up her hobbies like reading, gardening and knitting during this recovery period, though like most shinobis, she wasn’t really good at the whole resting thing. She had spent her entire life training to be useful. Remaining idle felt unnatural.
It wasn’t her first time being fatally injured, but she had taken great precautions and been extremely careful with her self preservation, so Hinata was fortunately not used to lengthy recovery periods.
Shino was seated to her right, silently drinking his sake as he watched their collection of friends bicker as they always did. The chair to her left was empty. Hinata assumed that it would remain as such until Kiba came to claim it. But Kiba was standing at the pool table between Sai and Choji, his voice rising to meet Naruto’s challenge.
A shadow moved and suddenly Sasuke sat down beside her. Close enough that their sleeves almost touched but for the polite distance he carefully maintained. Hinata stilled, her fingers tightened around her cup slightly for a brief moment before she forced herself to relax.
This was not the first time Sasuke had wordlessly sat down beside her at a gathering, deliberately, even though there were other seats available. He had done so three times in the past year since she had started to notice his attention. Not often enough to draw the inquisitive attention of their friends, but enough to keep Hinata up at night afterwards wondering why.
She chanced a glance at him, her gaze trailing upwards from his shoulder to his face. His black hair was a little longer now than it had ever been before. A moment passed before his dark eyes slid to look at her from his periphery.
“Good evening,” she said, her voice soft and polite.
He didn’t respond, not verbally. But his attention was sharper, more intense, and suddenly it felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room. His head had turned slightly towards her, but not enough to truly face her.
Hinata took in a breath, held it, then released it softly. She looked up at him again, meeting his gaze. She held it for a moment before he glanced away just as she expected him to. Sasuke looked at his cup of koshu before he lifted it up to drink half of it.
Her gaze lingered on him, taking in the way the warm light casted on the height of his cheekbone and the way the ridge of his throat bobbed as he swallowed, before she politely looked away. “You don’t come to these often.”
“No.”
He didn’t elaborate further.
She opened her mouth to speak again, then decided against it, and took a sip of her warm calendula tea. She wasn’t good with conversations. Especially not conversations with the austere man beside her.
Kiba’s loud laugh cut through the silence building over in this side of the room. On her right, Shino was conversing with Shikamaru about the upcoming espionage mission they were both assigned to. They set out tomorrow.
Hinata couldn’t help but listen in, though she was carefully pretending that she wasn’t as she stared at her tea.
With her Byakugan, her specialty was mostly espionage and sensory reconnaissance. So it was an occupational disease that made her eavesdrop and gather information on what their mission could be about. It sounded interesting enough that she wished she could take on the assignment with them.
She felt Sasuke’s attention return, like a slow warmth ghosting over her skin. It was harder to ignore it when it was in such close proximity. Harder to pretend that it wasn’t real.
A server eventually arrived carrying a tray with a variety of finger foods and more drinks. Several dishes were placed down in the middle of the table. Naruto and Choji came over to grab two plates each of the chips and tempuras, bringing them over to the pool table.
Hinata reached automatically towards one of the closest ones to her, a plate of edamame that was positioned to her left. A sharp movement caught her attention.
Sasuke’s hand had moved half an inch from where it rested against the table. Then stopped, when Shino had placed a plate of sweet peas right in front of her. The motion was so brief she almost thought she imagined it.
She could feel Sasuke’s gaze linger on her wrist, or perhaps the act she had been in the midst of performing. She was reaching with the hand on the side that had been injured, which would have pulled at the stitched up tissues in her left side.
She hadn’t thought much of it, having just acted instinctively and forgetting about her healing injury. But he had.
Hinata was mulling the observation around in her head when suddenly Sasuke wordlessly refilled her cup with fresh warm tea from the teapot. She didn’t dare move, her hands still wrapped around the cup as he poured a careful stream, enjoying the blossoming warmth against her fingertips.
Her chest tightened unexpectedly and it took her a moment to find her voice. “Oh, um, thank you.”
He pulled back and placed the teapot down in front of him, his gaze lingering on her but he didn’t say anything. When she looked up at him, he looked away. She caught something on his stony face for a split moment before it disappeared.
An hour later, the gathering began to disperse. Everyone was shouldering their own weight of exhaustion, so no one had any complaints about the short gathering. People filtered out in groups. Goodbyes echoed through the room and down the narrow stairs.
The streets outside were bathed in the warm lantern light of the izakaya by the time Hinata stepped into the night air with her grey coat on. The early winter evening was pleasant. Brisk, cold, but it had this fresh quality to the air when she breathed in that she really liked.
For several moments she stood quietly, enjoying the night. Breathing deeply.
Then she heard footsteps behind her. When she turned, she found Sasuke emerging from the exit of the building, the black cloak he wore made him look more imposing in height and presence. Like a looming shadow spilling from the dark corners.
The street had begun to empty. Most of their friends had already gone, taking all the noise and liveliness with them. Leaving a familiar tense silence between them.
Hinata offered him a small smile. “Good night, Sasuke.”
His eyes were on her and she wondered if she had been correct when she noted that his breathing was different.
Hinata didn’t wait for him to respond, knowing he likely wouldn’t. She turned and started walking down the street, nearly stopping when she realised that he had fallen into step with her. She glanced up at him, the curious inquisition on the tip of her tongue but she swallowed it back.
Sasuke was looking ahead at the dimly lit streets, walking in a pace that matched hers, his hands in his pockets. Yet she could feel the weight of his attention, his attentive awareness. A breeze stirred dark strands of hair across his forehead.
The Uchiha compound, what was left of it, was in the same district as the Hyuga compound.
It made practical sense that they would be heading in the same direction. They continued walking in complete silence with the moon watching them. When they arrived at the fork in the path, Sasuke didn’t diverge from her. Instead, he continued walking beside her, his long legs taking slow strides to be in pace with her.
It seemed that Sasuke Uchiha was walking her home. Even though she had not had anything to drink other than tea and he was the one with alcohol in his system.
With him walking so close to her, his cloak brushing against the edge of her coat, Hinata could feel the warmth and steady thrum of his chakra radiating from him. His chakra signature was unique and had a static electrical quality to it. Almost like standing too close to an electric fence with your bare palm hovering centimetres away from it.
She wondered what her chakra signature felt like to others. Not many people, not even most trained shinobis, were sensitive enough to feel chakra to this intricate level and dissect the layers of it. Almost like how fragrances had different layers and undertones, chakras had it too.
The lantern lights of nearby buildings and houses painted soft gold across the quiet familiar street leading to her clan’s compound. Hinata subtly glanced at Sasuke from the corner of her eyes, but couldn’t see much of his face without tilting her head back.
She barely reached his shoulders, a realisation that always had her feeling surprised when she was reminded of it. They rarely stood close enough for the reality of it to sink in. Sasuke always stood slightly behind her in social settings and in front of her during missions. Though she wondered if she was imagining how the distance was slowly narrowing.
Hinata tried and failed to find something to say. She attempted it three times before giving up entirely because they had reached the gates of the Hyuga compound. The guards looked at her before their gazes fell to the undeniable presence beside her.
Before the massacre, there were tensions between the two clans. Now, after the things that the man beside her had done, the war and everything else too complicated to separate, there was a different kind of tension between him and the village.
The guards were still watching. Sasuke was looking at her. The silver of the moon made the sharp edges of him look slightly softer.
“Thank you for walking me home.” Her eyes shifted over his face, trying to read him but he was too guarded to show anything. “Good night.”
He inclined his head slightly, his gaze not leaving her face. This was perhaps, to her immediate knowledge, the longest time he had looked at her while she was looking at him. The moment stretched between them, until it felt too fragile.
Then, like always, his gaze fell away. Hinata watched him turn and leave. His back, though wide and strong, looked like a lonely sight. She forced herself to tear her gaze away as the guards opened the gates for her to step behind the stone walls.