Chapter 3
Kakashi watched as Sasuke walked away, his long strides purposeful, with Sakura trailing closely behind him. He exhaled through his nose, suppressing the bitter taste of disappointment curling in his chest. He had expected better from his former students, but the more he saw, the harder it became to deny the truth, Sasuke had no intention of changing. Not for Hinata, not for anyone.
And yet, Kakashi knew his own feelings on the matter were beginning to contradict themselves. He told himself it was simply frustration at how Sasuke treated her, not just as his wife but as a woman, as a person who deserved respect. But each time he saw Hinata, each time he found himself by her side, it became harder to ignore the quiet pull within him. The warmth he felt in her presence, the way she met his gaze with that soft yet determined look. His feelings were growing, inch by inch, every time he was near her.
A quiet voice pulled him from his thoughts. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have acted that way.”
Kakashi turned to find Hinata looking down, the slightest crease forming between her brows. There was no regret in her expression, not really, only a lingering hesitation, as if she were second-guessing herself.
“You don’t have to apologize for standing up for yourself,” he told her, his voice gentler than usual. He almost said more, almost admitted how much restraint it had taken not to plant his fist in Sasuke’s face for how he’d spoken to her. He knew it would have only caused a bigger scene, and he didn’t want to upset her more than she already was. Instead, he asked, “Are you okay?”
Hinata hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I’m fine,” she murmured, then glanced up at him. “Thank you…but you didn’t have to do that.”
Kakashi exhaled lightly, watching her closely. She clutched the bag against her chest as if it were a shield, her fingers curled tight around the material. His hand twitched at his side, resisting the urge to place it on her shoulder again.
“There’s no reason for you to thank me,” he said after a pause. He wanted to say more, wanted to tell her that if she ever needed someone to stand by her side, he would, but he caught the look on her face and quickly added, “Sasuke was being disrespectful. I didn’t like seeing it.”
Hinata’s grip on the bag loosened slightly, but she remained quiet for a beat. Then, with a small sigh, she said, “I still need to apologize to him. For slapping him.”
Kakashi let out a snort before he could stop himself, amusement flashing in his eye.
Hinata turned her head, giving him a questioning look.
He coughed into his fist, schooling his expression back into something neutral. “Sorry,” he said smoothly. He didn’t think she needed to apologize for that, not one bit. But it wasn’t his place to tell her otherwise.
For a brief moment, he considered leaving her be, giving her a chance to collect herself. But just as he was about to suggest it, she clutched her dress bag a little tighter, shifting her weight slightly. Her gaze flickered downward, then off to the side. “Do you have anywhere else you need to be?”
Kakashi blinked, caught off guard by the question. She was asking him to stay.
Shaking his head, he tucked his hands into his pockets. “Not really. I was just going to go home and read,” he admitted.
A thought crossed his mind then, one he spoke before fully thinking it through. “Actually…would you like to join me for lunch? At my place?”
Hinata’s eyes widened slightly, and Kakashi immediately felt the urge to backpedal. He rubbed the back of his neck, giving a sheepish chuckle. “Maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea,” he added quickly.
Kakashi barely had time to withdraw his offer before Hinata tilted her head, curiosity flashing in her lavender eyes. “Why not?” she asked.
He blinked. He hadn’t expected her to challenge it. Most people would have simply let him brush it off, but Hinata wasn’t most people.
She shifted slightly, adjusting her grip on the bag holding her new dress. “I mean…I’ve invited you in for tea before, and you accepted. I don’t see why lunch would be any different.”
Kakashi studied her for a moment, weighing her words, watching the way her fingers fidgeted against the fabric of the bag she held. She wasn’t just saying it to be polite, she truly didn’t see the harm.
He exhaled lightly, running a hand through his silver hair. “If you’re okay with it, then I’ll cook lunch,” he decided.
Hinata nodded, but the soft blush dusting her cheeks didn’t escape his notice. He pretended as if he didn’t see it, offering a lazy tilt of his head in the direction they needed to go. “Let’s go, then.”
As they walked, Kakashi let the silence stretch comfortably between them. He glanced down at her from time to time, thinking back to the boutique, to the way she had been cornered by the overly enthusiastic shop attendant. He had seen the hesitation in her movements, the way she had held herself stiffly the moment the dress was draped into her arms.
When she had finally stepped out, he had already resigned himself to keeping his nose in his book. Looking up hadn’t been the plan. But curiosity had gotten the better of him, and before he could stop himself, he had let his gaze wander.
And what he saw had irritated him more than he expected.
The dress had been a poor choice for her, not because it wasn’t attractive, but because she clearly hadn’t wanted to wear it. There had been too much fabric in places that didn’t need it and far too little where it was needed most. The deep neckline had framed her collarbones and chest in a way that she clearly hadn’t been comfortable with, and the cut of the dress clung to her frame in ways that made her shift uncomfortably under his gaze. It wasn’t the dress itself that had left an impression, but rather her discomfort in wearing it.
He had looked away before she rushed back inside the dressing room, but the image had stuck with him, and for reasons he didn’t care to analyze, it left him feeling strangely protective. It wasn’t his place to feel anything about it, and yet, he did.
And then there was Sasuke.
Sasuke, who had a beautiful wife but barely acknowledged her. Sasuke, who had another woman standing beside him while Hinata had been forced to stand alone. The man was brilliant in many ways, but when it came to his marriage, he was a fool.
By the time they reached his apartment, Kakashi exhaled, pushing the thoughts aside. He unlocked the door and stepped back, gesturing for Hinata to enter first.
She hesitated for only a second before stepping inside. Her eyes wandered as she took in his space.
Kakashi had never needed much. His apartment was a modest one, clearly built for a single occupant. The walls were lined with bookshelves, packed with volumes of all kinds. His single bed was tucked into the corner, the blankets folded neatly, and across from it sat a sturdy desk with a chair that looked well-used. The closet doors were shut, but there was another door slightly ajar, leading to the small adjoining bathroom.
“It’s small,” Kakashi admitted with a chuckle, watching as Hinata’s gaze swept across the room. “But I don’t mind if you sit on the bed or use the chair. Whatever’s comfortable.”
Hinata turned to him, a soft smile on her lips. “I don’t mind at all. It’s cozy…and it smells like you.”
The moment the words left her mouth, her face turned scarlet. “I-I mean—” she sputtered, her hands waving slightly as she scrambled to correct herself. “Not in a bad way! It’s just, um, it’s nice, not overwhelming or anything—”
Kakashi raised an eyebrow. He reached up and slowly pulled his mask down, the fabric slipping below his chin as he watched her flustered reaction. “It smells like me, huh?” he repeated, voice laced with obvious amusement. “And what exactly do I smell like?”
Hinata let out a mortified squeak, her eyes darting to the floor. “I—uh—” She suddenly straightened, grasping onto the first distraction she could find. “What are you making for lunch?”
Kakashi let the silence stretch, watching her as her face somehow darkened into a deeper shade of red. Eventually, he smirked and decided to let her off the hook.
“Eggplant miso soup, pickled vegetables, and grilled fish” he said, turning toward the wall. He could see the surprise on her face before she could even voice it. Without looking back, he continued, “You’re probably wondering how I’m going to manage all of that in a place this small, aren’t you?”
Hinata blinked, then gave a hesitant nod.
Kakashi reached for one of the closet-like doors along the wall and slid it open, revealing a neatly organized kitchen space, a fridge, a sink, a small table with one chair, and several cabinets. He turned back to her with an easy smile. “Hidden gem,” he said lightly, stepping inside. “Now, feel free to browse my book collection while I cook. You’ll find that I do actually read things besides Icha Icha.”
Hinata laughed, the sound light and genuine, and Kakashi felt something warm settle in his chest. He didn’t voice it, but he liked hearing her laugh.
As she wandered toward his bookshelf, he set to work in the kitchen. Cooking had always been a solitary experience for him, something done out of necessity rather than enjoyment. But as he moved through the motions, preparing the broth for the miso soup and slicing the vegetables with practiced ease, he realized this was the first time he had ever cooked for someone else.
He wasn’t nervous. He was confident in his skills, and besides, he had always believed food tasted better when it was made with care.
He glanced out of the kitchen toward Hinata, who was browsing his books, occasionally tilting her head as she read over the titles, her lavender eyes flickering with curiosity.
He turned back to his work, carefully measuring out the ingredients. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t eating alone.
As he continued cooking, Kakashi stole a glance in Hinata’s direction. She had stopped running her fingers along the spines of the books and had plucked one from the shelf, tilting her head slightly as she examined the cover. With a soft hum, she wandered over to his desk, settling into the chair before cracking open the pages. A small smile tugged at his lips.
He returned his focus to the stove, preparing the final touches to the meal while also setting the kettle for tea. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the soft bubbling of broth filled the space, blending seamlessly with the quiet rustling of pages as Hinata read.
Once everything was ready, he carefully arranged the food on two plates, setting them on the small, round table tucked against the kitchen wall. He glanced at the single chair and sighed lightly before turning toward Hinata. “Lunch is ready,” he called, pulling the chair out slightly in invitation.
Hinata looked up, blinking as if pulled from deep thought, before she closed the book and stood. As she approached the table, her eyes scanned over the meal. “This looks really tasty,” she said, warmth in her tone. “And it smells wonderful.”
Kakashi gestured toward the chair for her to sit before walking over to his desk. He grabbed the chair she had just been sitting in and brought it to the table, positioning it beside her rather than across. As he sat down, he exhaled lightly. “I usually never have company,” he admitted with a lazy shrug.
Hinata smiled at that, her hands resting neatly in her lap for a moment before she murmured, “Thank you for the meal.”
They began eating, the quiet between them comfortable. Hinata took a bite of the food, her eyes widening slightly. “This is really good,” she said, turning toward him with a genuine smile.
Kakashi leaned his elbow against the table, resting his cheek against his knuckles. “Glad you like it,” he said simply, watching as she took another bite.
For a while, they ate in silence, the only sounds between them the soft clinking of chopsticks against plates. Then, after a moment, Hinata spoke. “Do you ever get lonely?”
Kakashi paused slightly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. The question was simple, but it carried weight. He set his chopsticks down and leaned back slightly, mulling over the thought. “There was a time when I did,” he admitted after a beat. “But I’ve been alone for quite a while now. I guess I’ve just gotten used to it.”
Hinata lowered her gaze to her bowl, her fingers tightening around her chopsticks as if in thought. Kakashi could tell she was thinking of something, maybe even relating to his words in a way she hadn’t expected. He watched her for a moment before quietly reaching for the teapot, pouring them both a cup of tea as they sat in their shared silence.
Kakashi continued eating, but his focus kept drifting to Hinata. There was a softness to her features, but her expression carried a weight he didn’t like seeing on her. A quiet sadness lingered in her eyes, an unspoken thought pressing at the edges of her mind. He didn’t want her to take pity on him, didn’t want her to think he was some lonely old man, resigned to a life of solitude.
So, he smirked slightly and leaned back in his chair, his tone casual yet teasing. “I don’t feel lonely at all, actually,” he said. “Not when I’m in the company of a very beautiful woman.”
Hinata’s chopsticks paused midair, her fingers tightening around them as a soft blush bloomed across her cheeks. She quickly looked back down at her eggplant miso soup, stirring it idly with her spoon. “You’re only saying that,” she mumbled, almost too quiet to hear.
Kakashi lifted his tea to his lips, hiding his smile. “I don’t say things just to say them,” he replied, watching with amusement as she took a hasty sip of her tea, trying to compose herself.
Silence settled between them, warm and filled with something unspoken. Hinata, still flustered, focused on her food, but Kakashi caught the way her shoulders had tensed, the way her fingers played nervously against the rim of her cup. He probably shouldn’t say things like that to her, considering the circumstances. He exhaled softly. “I suppose I shouldn’t say things like that,” he mused. “My apologies.”
Hinata hesitated before shaking her head. “I don’t mind hearing it,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper, her fingers brushing against the edge of her cup.
Kakashi stilled for a moment, his gaze lingering on her. He doubted she heard words like that often, not from the man she was married to. And that realization, how easily he suspected that Hinata received more compliments from strangers than from her own husband, made something settle uncomfortably in his chest. She deserved to hear those things, deserved to be admired, deserved all the praise in the world.
As they finished their meal, Hinata offered him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you again. I’ll have to return the favor sometime.”
Kakashi tilted his head, interested. “I’ve heard about your cooking. I’d love to try it someday.”
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You have?”
He nodded. “Mm. But you don’t have to return any favors, Hinata. I cooked for you because I wanted to.”
Hinata ducked her head slightly. “Still…thank you.”
They fell into a comfortable lull once again, the quiet hum of the apartment wrapping around them. Kakashi shifted in his chair, turning slightly to face her. He rested his cheek on his palm, his dark eyes watching her with quiet amusement. “So,” he said, his tone lazy and playful, “are you going to tell me what I smell like, or do I have to guess?”
Hinata’s lips parted, caught entirely off guard. Her blush, which had barely begun to fade, rushed back full force. “I—I never said anything about that,” she stammered.
He arched a brow. “You kind of did,” he pointed out. “You said my apartment smells like me.” He let a beat of silence pass, watching her squirm under his gaze before adding, “I hope it’s not something unpleasant.”
Hinata shook her head quickly, as if horrified by the thought. “N-No! It’s not bad at all!” she blurted, only to realize how loud her voice had come out. She immediately clamped her mouth shut and looked down, mortified. “I— I mean…you smell nice,” she admitted in a much quieter voice.
Kakashi smirked. “That’s a relief.” He leaned back slightly, watching as she played with the edge of her sleeve, still clearly flustered. “For what it’s worth, you smell good too.”
Hinata blinked, then dropped her gaze even lower. “You don’t have to say that,” she murmured.
“Once again, I don’t say things just to say them,” he repeated, watching her expression carefully.
His gaze drifted down, stopping at her lips. There was something about them, soft, and full. Kakashi had no doubt they were as soft as they looked, something he knew he’d never get the chance to confirm. He had always been a man of restraint, and with her, he knew that line couldn’t be crossed.
But his mind wandered, unbidden, to Sasuke. Had Sasuke ever looked at her the way he was now? Had he ever traced the shape of her lips with his eyes and wondered how they felt? Or had he spent so much time being wrapped up in someone else that he never even noticed?
A soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“Kakashi-sensei…?” Hinata’s voice was hesitant, uncertain. She had been speaking, but he had caught none of it, too lost in his own thoughts.
“Hm?” he asked, covering up his distraction.
Hinata frowned slightly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said smoothly, leaning back slightly. “Don’t worry about me, Hinata.”
She stared at him for a moment, something unreadable in her expression.
Kakashi paused.
He had dropped the “-chan” without thinking.
Hinata must have caught onto it, but she didn’t say anything, just continued watching him. He cleared his throat, trying to ease the sudden tension. He nudged his chin toward the book on the table. “Did you enjoy it?”
Hinata looked down at the book in question, nodding. “Yes, I did.”
Kakashi smiled. “You’re welcome to borrow it if you’d like. Since we didn’t get a chance to stop by a bookstore, I figured you might need something lighthearted to read.”
Hinata studied him for a long moment before asking, “Are you really okay?”
His grin didn’t waver. “Of course.” He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice just enough that it felt a bit more intimate. “And you’re always welcome to borrow any book of mine.”
Silence stretched between them, thick, lingering.
Kakashi watched as her eyes flickered to his lips, her teeth catching her own in thought. Something in his chest tightened at the sight. He called her name, and she responded in a slight daze. He smirked, voice dropping. “You don’t have to keep calling me ‘sensei.’ Just Kakashi is fine.”
Hinata’s breath hitched slightly, her lavender eyes flicking back to his. “Are...Are you sure?”
“I’d prefer it,” he said.
Her lips parted slightly, as if tasting the way his name sounded before she whispered, “Kakashi.”
His stomach twisted pleasantly.
Then, suddenly, Hinata stood, startling him as she collected the dishes. He blinked, watching as she hurried toward the sink.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Washing the dishes,” she replied, as if it was obvious.
Kakashi frowned slightly. “You don’t need to do that.”
“It’s the least I can do,” she said, already reaching for the water.
He sighed. “It’s really not necessary.”
But she wasn’t listening.
Kakashi ran a hand through his silver hair, watching her move around his small kitchen. He hadn’t intended for her to do anything, he had wanted her to relax, to enjoy the moment. But instead of arguing, he sighed in defeat and stood.
He sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to let it go. “Fine,” he muttered, moving to stand. “I’ll help. Can’t have you doing all the work.”
She gave him a look but didn’t protest. They worked in comfortable silence, standing side by side, until their hands brushed against each other when she passed him a plate.
She glanced at him, a shy smile curving her lips. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to seeing your face,” she admitted softly.
Kakashi smirked. “Then I guess I’ll have to make sure you do,” he said. “After all, you’re the only one who will.”
He winked at her.
Hinata’s face went scarlet, and she quickly turned away, flustered. “S-Stop teasing me.”
Kakashi chuckled, drying the plate in his hand. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”
But the way she peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, the small smile tugging at her lips, told him she didn’t mind it at all.
Yeah, Sasuke was an idiot.
x-x-x-x
Sasuke had expected to find her home. He wasn’t sure why. Hinata had never waited up for him, just as he never waited for her. But still, as he stepped inside and was met with silence, something about it felt off. His gaze flickered across the darkened house, his expression unreadable, though his irritation curled at the edges of his composure.
His fingers flexed at his sides as he thought back to the previous night, the sting of her palm against his cheek, the sharp snap of her voice, the way her anger had burned hotter than he'd ever seen. She had never looked at him like that before.
She hadn’t just been angry. She had been hurt.
For a fleeting moment, he'd almost left. He had stood at the door, hand hovering over the handle, debating whether he should go. Maybe she didn’t want him here. Maybe it would be easier if he just walked out and let her have the space she clearly needed.
But he hadn’t.
Instead, he'd taken one of the spare bedrooms, lying awake for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling, replaying the fight in his head. He told himself he would apologize in the morning, get it over with, acknowledge the line he had crossed, move forward.
And yet, when morning came, he had left without saying a word.
Sasuke Uchiha, someone who had never backed down from anything in his life, had been too nervous to face his own wife.
It wasn’t until he caught his reflection in the mirror that he realized just how much of her frustration she had packed into that slap. His cheek had been swollen, the imprint of her hand lingering against his skin. He almost smirked at the sight of it, if only because it meant she had meant it. She hadn’t hesitated.
Before he left, he'd checked in on her. He had told himself it was only to see if she was awake, only to gauge whether an apology could be exchanged before he disappeared for the day. But when he had pushed the door open and seen her lying there, her face turned slightly against the pillow, the evidence of dried tears staining her cheeks, something in his chest coiled in a way he didn’t like.
Her brows were faintly furrowed in her sleep, her expression troubled even in unconsciousness.
Was that how she always looked when she slept?
Or had he caused that?
He thought about leaving a note. He wanted her to know he had stayed, that he hadn’t just walked out on her after their fight. In the end, he settled for leaving the bed unmade, a silent message.
The morning had been spent in training, trying to dispel the lingering frustration that clung to his thoughts. He hadn’t intended to run into Sakura, but she had found him anyway, her sharp green eyes immediately taking in his swollen cheek.
She had offered to heal it, and he had refused.
He deserved it.
Still, thanks to his chakra, the swelling had gone down throughout the day.
Sasuke exhaled, leaning back against the couch, eyes narrowing as his thoughts drifted to earlier.
Hinata’s glare, hard and unwavering, directed straight at Sakura.
Kakashi’s hand, resting too easily on her shoulder.
The entire exchange left a bitter taste in his mouth, one that he didn’t understand, and that frustrated him more than anything else. He had been angry, at Hinata, at Kakashi, at himself. He had walked away with Sakura, not because he had anything to prove, but because it was familiar, because it was easy.
But as the hours passed and he returned home, his irritation hadn’t faded. If anything, it had festered into something sharper.
He checked the clock. It was getting late.
Where the hell was she?
His fingers drummed once against the armrest before he forced himself still. He didn’t care. He shouldn’t care.
But as the minutes stretched into hours, he couldn’t shake the thought: Was she still with Kakashi?
Sasuke didn’t consider himself a nosy person. He had no interest in anyone else’s business. People did what they wanted, who was he to care?
But Hinata was his wife.
He had every right to know where she was and who she was with.
The contradiction of that thought barely registered, nor did the way it pressed against the hypocrisy of his own choices.
The second he sensed her chakra, he was already moving toward the window.
His gaze flickered downward as he caught sight of her approaching the house, Kakashi at her side. His jaw tightened, watching as Kakashi walked closely behind her, posture relaxed but presence unwavering.
Sasuke’s fingers curled against the windowsill as he strained his neck to see them more clearly. But all he could make out was the broad line of Kakashi’s back, his frame blocking Hinata entirely from view.
His eyes narrowed as Kakashi leaned slightly forward, his mask-covered face dipping toward hers as if saying something quietly. Sasuke tensed, irritation pressing against his ribs. He tried to see, to gauge her reaction, but the moment the door began to open, he stepped back, schooling his features into indifference.
He moved smoothly, making his way into the living room. Settling onto the couch, he leaned back, fingers loosely resting against the armrest as he waited.
The door clicked shut.
Soft laughter, barely audible, reached his ears.
His brows furrowed.
He listened to the faint shuffle of her shoes being removed, the quiet rhythm of her footsteps against the hardwood.
She almost walked straight past the living room.
Almost.
She must have sensed him, because she came to an abrupt halt in the hallway, the air between them instantly shifting.
Sasuke didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He simply waited, watching as she turned to face him, her lavender gaze locking onto his.
There was a beat of silence.
His dark eyes flickered over her expression, the remnants of amusement still softening her features. The easy way her shoulders were no longer weighed down, the faintest curve of her lips as if the laughter from moments ago still lingered.
That sharp irritation from earlier curled in his stomach again.
She had been out all day, doing whatever she wanted. She had been with Kakashi, long enough to make him wonder. He didn’t care what she did, he told himself this over and over, but something about this moment, about seeing her come home looking like this, made his chest tighten.
His voice came out low, controlled.
“Where have you been?”
Hinata’s eyes flickered with surprise, as if the question had caught her off guard. That irritated him more than it should have.
“Did you forget you wanted me home to talk?” His tone was sharp, unimpressed.
She hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. “No, I didn’t forget.”
“Then?” His gaze narrowed.
‘I just…” She exhaled, tilting her head slightly as if searching for the right words. “I didn’t think you were actually going to come home.’
His frown deepened. ‘I said I would, and I did.” His voice cooled, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it. “I’ve been waiting here for hours. I saw you earlier this afternoon, and now it's nearly eleven at night. What have you been doing?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away and stepped further into the living room, lowering herself onto the couch. She kept space between them as she sat down a bag on the couch, crossing her legs away from him, her arms folding as she tilted her head slightly in his direction, waiting.
Sasuke’s lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t know whether to be amused or irritated.
The Hinata he remembered, the one who used to stumble over her words, who could barely look at people without blushing, had been replaced by someone sharper, someone who looked him dead in the eye without hesitation. Someone who had the nerve to challenge him. He knew he was the reason for that change. He had dragged it out of her with every cold glance, every dismissive response, every moment he had forced her to stand on her own.
And now, here she was, staring at him with something unreadable in her pale eyes.
Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on his knees. “Were you with Kakashi all day?”
She watched him for a moment before nodding.
“Is he training you?”
Another shake of her head.
His eyes flickered. “Then what in the hell are you two doing?”
She blinked once. “Talking.”
“About what?”
“Books. Life,” she said, nonchalantly
His fingers curled against his knee. “That’s it?”
“That’s it mostly.”
The clipped certainty of her answers made something itch beneath his skin. There was nothing inherently suspicious in her responses, but the way she refused to elaborate, the way she didn’t feel the need to, annoyed him.
His patience wore thin. He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to change the subject.
“About last night…” His voice dropped lower, the words feeling heavy in his mouth. “I’m…sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
Hinata’s lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across her face. She hadn’t expected an apology. He could tell.
She unfolded her arms, fingers pressing against her lap. “I’m sorry too,” she said quietly, eyes dropping slightly. “For slapping you.”
A bitter scoff almost escaped him. She was apologizing for slapping him. Not for what she said. Whatever.
The silence between them stretched, thick with everything unspoken. He could still feel the weight of their argument, the rawness of it.
After a moment, she shifted, inching forward as if to stand.
Before he could think, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist.
She froze, startled, her gaze snapping to his.
“Why were you really with Kakashi?” The question came out heavier this time, tension tightening his voice. “This is the second time I’ve seen you with him. Why?”
Her pale eyes searched his face. “I just gave you an answer. He's a friend,” she responded, voice even. “We share interests, that’s all. He recommended a place, helped me pick out this dress,” she lifted the bag slightly, “and we talked about books.”
Sasuke’s jaw tensed. It was a reasonable response, one that shouldn’t have gotten under his skin. But it did.
“It seems odd,” he muttered, his grip on her wrist loosening but not letting go. “You and Kakashi. Spending time together. He’s an old man.” His voice dipped, laced with irritation. "It’s weird."
Hinata’s brows furrowed, confusion flashing across her face before it settled into something sharper. “You said yourself you don’t care what I do,” she pointed out, her voice measured. “Besides you spend your time with Sakura-san.”
He stilled. The way she said it, Sakura-san, wasn't laced with jealousy or resentment. It was worse. It was detached, as if she had already accepted it, as if it was a fact she had since grown used to.
His grip tightened slightly before he released her wrist entirely.
“It’s different.”
Her lashes fluttered, the tiniest flicker of something behind her eyes before her expression hardened.
“How?”
The question hung between them, thick and heavy.
“Because I’m your wife and I have to listen to your every demand and you’re free to do whatever you want?” She continued.
The word left her lips like a curse. Cold. Distant. As if the very idea of it disgusted her.
Something sharp twisted in his chest.
His face remained impassive. “I don’t want my wife spending time with another man.”
Hinata's response was immediate. “And what if I say, I don’t like my husband spending time with another woman? Will you stop seeing Sakura-san?”
Silence.
His throat felt tight.
He could lie. He could say yes, that he would end it, that he would stay away from her. But the words wouldn't come. Because he knew it wouldnt be true.
And Hinata knew it too.
She wrenched her arm from his grasp, the warmth of her skin vanishing from his fingertips.
“Then I won’t stop spending time with Kakashi. My friend.” She stood up and began walking away from him.
No honorific. No 'sensei.' Just Kakashi.
His stomach tightened as his eyes narrowed, watching as she turned away from him. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like any of this.
“Won't you listen to me?”
Hinata didn't stop walking. She didn’t even glance back.
And that, more than anything, made his blood simmer.
Sasuke pushed off the couch and followed.
Hinata kept walking, her steps measured, her voice flat. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you again.”
But Sasuke wasn’t done. His jaw tightened as he followed. “We’re not arguing,” he said, his voice low but firm. "I’m not finished talking to you."
That made her stop. She turned to face him, arms crossing over her chest. Her pale eyes locked onto his, searching, dissecting. “Then tell me,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “Why does Kakashi bother you so much?”
His expression darkened. “I already told you.”
Hinata exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “No, you didn’t. That wasn’t an answer. It was a demand, because you’re being a jealous, contradicting man.”
His spine went rigid. Jealous? Him? Of Kakashi? The very idea was absurd. His irritation flared, and he scoffed. “I’d never be jealous of Kakashi,” he said coolly.
That was when he noticed it, the subtle curve of her lips, the way amusement flickered in her eyes. She was smiling.
Sasuke’s brows drew together. “What the hell is so funny?”
Hinata only gave a small shrug. “You’re behaving like a spoiled child.”
His fingers curled into fists, but before he could snap back at her, she continued, voice softer but sharper. “Why can’t you let go of Sakura-san?”
His breath caught slightly, and for a brief moment, silence stretched between them.
Sasuke didn’t know how to answer that.
The words he needed were just out of reach, tangled somewhere in the mess of his own contradictions.
Sakura had been there for as long as he could remember, a constant in a life that had been anything but stable. Through everything, through every terrible choice he had made, she had always remained, always looked at him as if he was worth something more than the blood on his hands and the weight of his sins. She had chosen him, time and time again, even when he hadn't chosen her. And maybe, selfishly, he had wanted that to never change.
Sakura's presence was easy, predictable. There was no uncertainty, no risk of rejection, because he already knew how she felt. She loved him. And he had never had to question that. In a life where everything had been taken from him, his family, his clan, his future, Sakura was one of the few things he could count on to always be there.
Maybe that was why he kept returning to her. Not because he was in love with her, but because she was safe. Familiar. A place he could go when the weight of everything else became too much.
But saying that aloud felt wrong.
Hinata watched him carefully, waiting. When he didn’t speak, she let out a quiet breath and stepped past him, her voice quiet but cutting. “I know she’s important to you,” she said. “Just like Naruto-kun was important to me.”
That made him look at her.
“You weren’t the only one forced into something against your will,” she continued, voice soft but unwavering. “Naruto-kun and I…we fought against this marriage. We tried to void the contract. We did everything we could to find another way. And when it didn’t work, I had to separate from him. Do you have any idea how hard that was?”
Sasuke said nothing.
Hinata’s fingers clenched slightly at her sides, a tremor running through her breath before she steadied herself. “I wanted to reach out to him. To see him. To hear his voice, to hold his hand, to be in his arms. It took everything in me not to. Because I wanted to be respectful to you.”
The weight of her words settled in his chest, pressing against something he wasn’t ready to confront.
“I wanted to be a good wife,” she admitted, almost as if it pained her to say it. “Even after you left me for three months after our wedding, I still wanted to be respectful. And then I found out you had still been in contact with Sakura-san the entire time and that you spend every moment that you can with her, instead of coming home to me.”
A sharp silence fell between them.
Sasuke didn’t flinch, but his jaw tightened.
Hinata let out a quiet, bitter laugh. “I may not love you, but it still hurts knowing my husband spends time with another woman. And do you even know how much the rumors about our marriage have affected me?”
Sasuke’s eyes flickered. “You shouldn’t care about what people think,” he said, though the words came out more clipped than intended.
Hinata let out a quiet snort, turning away from him as if the conversation wasn’t worth the effort anymore.
She crossed the room, stopping at the vanity. Pulling open a small metal container, she retrieved a hair tie and gathered her long hair up into a messy bun.
Sasuke caught himself watching. His gaze lingered on the pale curve of her exposed neck, and the delicate slope of her shoulders. Guilt curled low in his stomach, sharp and unwelcome.
He looked away, scowling to himself.
She secured her hair and exhaled, shaking her head slightly. “You’re hopeless,” she muttered.
Sasuke remained silent, watching as she moved toward the door in their bedroom leading to the bathroom. But just as she reached the threshold, she paused, glancing back at him.
“Should I expect you to still be here when I come out,” she asked, “or will you be gone?”
His eyes darted back to the bare skin at the nape of her neck, the softness of it. A thought popped in his mind. He wondered if her skin felt as soft as it looked. He forced himself to look away. Yes, she was his wife, but…
“I’ll be leaving,” he said, still averting his gaze, until he decided to look back at her.
Her expression didn’t change. No anger, no disappointment. Just blank.
She didn’t say another word. She stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door gently behind her.
Sasuke stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door, a strange sensation settling in his chest. He took a step closer and stopped in front of the bathroom door, his hand hovering just inches from the wood. His fingers flexed slightly before curling into a fist, the motion hesitant, uncertain. His lips parted, the faintest intake of breath as if he were about to speak, but no words came. Instead, his throat worked around a low grunt, and his hand dropped back to his side.
Without another thought, he turned sharply on his heel and strode away from the door, through the dim hallway, and into the living room. His cloak rested on the arm of the couch where he had discarded it earlier. He grabbed it, slinging it over his shoulders in a smooth, practiced motion, fastening the clasps without even thinking.
His mood was a mess, agitation simmering beneath his skin, coiling like a vice around his thoughts. The argument with Hinata replayed in his mind, each word, each look exchanged, twisting into something heavier than he wanted to deal with. He told himself he wasn’t angry, but the restless energy in his limbs told him otherwise. He needed space.
The cool night air hit his face the moment he stepped outside. His feet carried him forward, moving through the village streets, his mind still tangled in the events of the evening. He didn’t have a destination in mind. At least, that’s what he told himself.
But when he stopped in front of Sakura’s apartment, he realized that was a lie.
His knuckles rapped against the door twice before he stepped back, waiting. It only took a few moments before the door creaked open, revealing Sakura in an oversized shirt and shorts, her hair a mess from sleep.
She blinked at him, the initial grogginess in her eyes quickly fading, replaced with something softer, something eager. “Sasuke-kun,” she breathed, a small smile pulling at her lips. She stepped aside instantly, ushering him in without hesitation.
He entered, his movements slow as she shut the door behind him. She reached for his cloak, unfastening it for him, her fingers brushing against his shoulders as she slid it off. “Are you okay?” she asked, peering up at him. “You were upset earlier when we left.”
He exhaled through his nose, toeing off his sandals. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Sakura nodded, understanding, though she didn’t look entirely convinced. “I made dinner earlier,” she offered, a hint of hope in her voice. “I thought you might come by sooner.”
He glanced at her briefly, catching the way she searched his face. “I’m not hungry,” he muttered. “I’m just tired.”
Sakura gave a small nod before reaching for his hand. She intertwined her fingers with his, warm and familiar, and led him toward her bedroom. He followed, silent, letting her guide him through the darkened space.
She climbed into bed first, slipping beneath the covers, waiting as he stood at the edge. She pulled back the blanket in silent invitation, but as always, he climbed in on top of the blanket, not beneath them. His arm draped loosely around her as he settled in behind her.
Sakura sighed, content, pressing back into him. She fit easily against him, her body molding against his. His arm remained relaxed, unmoving, not holding her too tightly.
His gaze drifted down to the back of her neck. His breath hitched.
The image of Hinata flashed in his mind, her bare neck exposed when she had pulled her hair up, the gentle curve of her throat. She always wore her hair down, so he never saw her neck before. Oddly enough, it was the part of the female anatomy that he liked. His eyes automatically drifted once it became visible for him to see. It was a fleeting glimpse, nothing more, but it had lodged itself into his brain like a thorn.
He shut his eyes, forcing the thought away.
The guilt came creeping in, settling deep in his stomach like lead. He tightened his jaw. The woman in his arms was the one he wanted. If she knew, even for a second, that Hinata had crossed his mind at all, she would be devastated.
Sakura’s voice pulled him back. “Where were you before you came here?”
His eyes opened, staring blankly at the darkened room. “Home.”
He felt her stiffen slightly. “Hinata was there?”
Sasuke snorted. “She lives there,” he said flatly. “Where else would she be?”
Sakura shifted, twisting to glance over her shoulder. “Did you make up with her?”
He shrugged. “We apologized.”
Sakura frowned. “I hope she apologized for what she said to you.”
Sasuke let out a slow breath. “Don’t stress over it.”
But Sakura didn’t let it go. “Sasuke-kun, I just don’t understand.” She shifted to fully face him, her fingers digging into the fabric of the blanket. “Why are you still in that house? Why are you still married to her? If you don’t love her, if you don’t want to be there, then—”
Sasuke dragged a slow hand down his face, exhaustion creeping into his limbs. His jaw clenched. The past twenty-four hours had been an endless cycle of frustration, Hinata, Kakashi, and now this. “Sakura,” he muttered, voice taut with restraint. “Not now.”
She hesitated, but only for a second. “You should divorce her.”
His fingers curled slightly where they rested against the bed. His breath left him in a slow, deliberate exhale. “Go to sleep, Sakura.” His voice was distant. “I don’t want to talk about my marriage.”
Silence settled between them, heavy. But it didn’t last long.
“You might as well live with me.” She let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “You’re always here. You come to see me more than her.”
His patience stretched thin, fraying at the edges.
His irritation from the day had been a constant pulse beneath his skin, tightening with every hour. Now, it pressed harder, agitated by contradiction. Just the other day, Sakura had hesitated, guilt threading through her voice as she suggested he try to know Hinata. Now, she was telling him to leave her entirely. It was frustrating, dizzying even, and he didn’t have the energy to sift through the inconsistencies.
But wasn’t he doing the same?
The thought never fully formed, slipping away before he could grasp it. Instead, his frustration latched onto her inconsistency, his exhaustion making it easier to focus on the way she kept shifting rather than acknowledge the way he had been circling the same impossible choices. He didn’t have the patience to unravel her logic, especially when his own was just as tangled.
His fingers curled against the mattress. The words came out colder than he intended, but he didn’t stop them. “What do you want me to say?”
Sakura’s breath hitched, but she didn’t back down. “I want you to stop acting like this isn’t breaking me.” Her grip tightened on the blanket, knuckles paling. “I want you to stop pretending this doesn’t hurt me, Sasuke-kun.”
His jaw tensed.
All day, his emotions had been pulled in every direction—frustration, anger, guilt, resentment, exhaustion. He was too drained for another fight. Too drained to deal with the way his life had become one endless mess after another.
He had come here to get away from it all, to find even a moment of quiet.
Instead, all he found was more noise.
Sakura’s voice was quiet, edged with something fragile. “I love you. And you love me. So why?”
Sasuke sat in silence for a long moment before exhaling sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “I’ve looked into breaking the contract,” he admitted, his fingers pressing against his temple. The words felt heavy, like they carried the weight of a truth he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. “It’s not that simple.”
Sakura sat up straighter, her gaze searching his face. “What do you mean?”
He let out another slow breath, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease. “I found out about a month ago. The contract states we have to be married for three years before a divorce can even be considered.” His eyes flickered toward her, something resigned in his expression. “It hasn’t even been a year yet.”
A shadow passed over Sakura’s face, her lips pressing into a thin line.
Sasuke reached out, his fingertips grazing her cheek before cupping the side of her face. His thumb traced a slow path along her skin, as if grounding himself in her presence. “I care about you,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “I am choosing to be here with you.”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
His fingers skimmed down her jaw, lingering there. “I’m sorry,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m tired, and I don’t want to do this tonight.”
Sakura’s gaze didn’t waver, something unreadable flickering in her green eyes. After a moment, she asked, “Do you think you’ll ever love her?”
Sasuke hesitated. The answer should have been simple, immediate. But for some reason, the words stuck in his throat. Finally, he exhaled and muttered, “I don’t think so.”
Sakura’s lips parted slightly, her brows knitting together. “What do you mean you don’t think so?”
He dragged a hand down his face, already weary of this conversation. “I don’t love her now, and I doubt that will change anytime soon.” His voice was flat, almost detached, but even he could hear the slight edge to it. “Hinata hates me, and I’ve given her every reason to.” He shook his head, forcing his tone to level. “There’s nothing between us. That’s the reality of it.”
Sakura studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable, but there was something lingering in her gaze, something that told him she didn’t like that answer.
He let out a slow, measured breath, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him. He needed this conversation to end. If it went on any longer, he knew he’d crack, say something he didn’t mean, take his frustration out on her, and that wasn’t what he wanted.
“Go to bed,” he said finally.
She lingered for a moment, then nodded, shifting closer and resting her head against him.
Sasuke exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling. He should be relieved the conversation was over, that the weight pressing on his chest was a little lighter. But it wasn’t. It only shifted, settling somewhere deeper, more stubborn.
His eyes slid shut, willing sleep to take over, to pull him into nothingness. But instead, something else crept in—quiet, insidious. A stray thought that shouldn’t have meant anything, shouldn’t have even existed. Yet it did.
The curve of Hinata’s bare neck surfaced in his mind, unbidden. The way her hair had fallen aside, exposing more skin than he’d ever noticed before. The soft slope of her shoulder disappearing beneath the fabric of her clothes.
His breath came slower, heavier.
Why was he thinking about that?
His jaw clenched. He shifted against the pillow, irritation rising like an itch he couldn’t scratch. But it wasn’t just irritation. It was something else, something warmer, something that made the heat crawl up his own neck, a slow and unwanted burn.
His fingers twitched. He curled them into a fist against the blanket.
The memory of her voice followed, calm, but edged with something final. The way she had looked at him in that moment, not angry, not pleading, but…detached. Like she had given up on something he hadn’t even realized she had held onto.
A quiet exhale left him. He turned onto his side, away from Sakura, away from the thoughts that made his chest feel too tight. His face was warmer than it should have been, and he was grateful for the darkness that concealed it.
This was ridiculous.
He forced his breathing to steady, willing the image to fade.
He didn’t want to think about her.
And yet, no matter how much he tried, she lingered.
x-x-x-x
Sasuke left before dawn, slipping out of Sakura’s apartment without a sound. The last thing he wanted was to wake her, only for her to bring up last night’s argument all over again. He’d heard her stir slightly as he stood at the edge of her bed, contemplating whether to say anything before leaving, but in the end, he just pulled on his cloak and walked out.
His footsteps were steady as he moved through the village streets, the early morning mist still clinging to the air. His mind replayed the events from the night before, from his fight with Hinata to the conversation or rather, confrontation, with Sakura. The contradiction of it all made his head ache.
He was a married man but spent his nights somewhere else. He had a wife at home but sought comfort in another woman’s arms. He told himself he loved Sakura, yet he found himself fixating on things he shouldn’t when it came to Hinata. It wasn’t as though he desired her. No, it wasn’t that. But something about her defiance last night, the way she looked at him with something other than quiet acceptance, had unsettled him.
He shook his head, pushing the thought away.
Up ahead, a familiar sight caught his attention. Ichiraku. And stepping inside was none other than Naruto.
Sasuke slowed his pace, his hesitation almost instinctive.
Their friendship wasn’t what it once was. The shift had been gradual, creeping in like a shadow until one day, it was simply different. The easy bond they once shared had dulled into something more restrained, more careful. It wasn’t outright hostile, but there was a distance now, thick with things left unsaid.
Sasuke knew why.
The marriage.
He had taken Naruto’s place beside Hinata, not by choice, not out of love, but by obligation. And whether Naruto would ever admit it or not, Sasuke knew it mattered.
Naruto had never confronted him about it, never voiced resentment outright, but the weight of it was there, sitting between them like an unseen wall. Their interactions were briefer now, lacking the same depth they once had. There were no casual invitations to drink, no spontaneous sparring matches. Naruto had drawn a line, even if he pretended not to.
Sasuke understood.
Naruto was protective of her, he always had been. Sasuke had left shortly after the wedding, distancing himself from the village, from the responsibilities forced upon him. And by the time he returned, Naruto had already cemented himself as Hokage, his life filled with duties far greater than whatever unresolved tension lingered between them.
It had been Sakura who told him through a letter.
Sasuke exhaled through his nose, eyes fixed on the entrance of Ichiraku.
A part of him wondered if Naruto resented him for it.
Another part wondered if he would even blame him.
Sasuke sighed, debating whether he should go in at all. He could just keep walking. Avoid the inevitable.
Instead, he found himself stepping through the curtain.
Ichiraku wasn’t too crowded yet, given the early hour, but Naruto had still managed to attract attention. Sasuke smirked at the sight. The blond sat at the barstool, slurping down ramen, while a group of young women hovered around him, giggling and vying for his attention. Naruto, flustered and clearly unused to this level of admiration, laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head, accepting small gifts as he tried, unsuccessfully, to focus on his meal.
Sasuke rolled his eyes. Some things never changed.
Striding forward, he stopped just behind the fangirls, crossing his arms. “Scram.”
The girls turned, startled by the deep voice. Their eyes landed on him, and for a moment, they looked nervous, but then their expressions shifted into something more flirtatious. Sasuke’s eyebrow twitched.
“Now,” he repeated, his voice leaving no room for argument.
With a chorus of disappointed sighs, they scattered, casting lingering glances over their shoulders before finally disappearing.
Naruto let out an exasperated sigh, setting his chopsticks down. “You didn’t have to do that,” he muttered, not looking up from his bowl.
Sasuke slid onto the stool beside him. “You were drowning in perfume and fake compliments,” he pointed out dryly. “I did you a favor.”
Naruto huffed but didn’t argue. A silence settled between them, not quite comfortable, not quite tense.
After a moment, Naruto finally asked, “How’ve you been?”
“The same,” Sasuke replied vaguely. “You?”
“Busy.”
Sasuke eyed the large bowl in front of Naruto. “Busy eating ramen first thing in the morning?”
Naruto barely reacted. “Haven’t had time to eat properly lately,” he said, shrugging. “It’s been a long week.”
Sasuke was about to comment further, but something about Naruto’s demeanor made him pause. He wasn’t responding the way he usually would. There was a stiffness to his movements, a distance to his tone.
And then Naruto asked, “You still seeing Sakura-chan?”
Sasuke stilled.
He didn’t answer right away, which only made Naruto let out a sharp breath and set his chopsticks down with an audible clatter. Sasuke turned his head slightly, catching the flicker of anger in Naruto’s blue eyes.
“I’m disappointed in you,” Naruto said bluntly.
Sasuke’s fingers tightened slightly against his knee. He had expected this at some point, but hearing it outright…
“You don’t deserve her...” Naruto’s voice was quieter now, but no less harsh. “You don’t deserve Hinata.”
Sasuke exhaled slowly, keeping his expression neutral. “I never claimed to.”
Naruto’s hands curled into fists on the countertop. “Marriage is sacred, Sasuke. You’re breaking that. You know you are.”
Sasuke’s gaze flickered away. “It’s not that simple.”
Naruto let out a humorless laugh. “Isn’t it?” He shook his head. “Have you even tried? Have you even attempted to know her?”
Sasuke smirked, an empty kind of amusement playing on his lips. “I got to know her palm when she slapped me.”
Naruto’s eyes narrowed. “Not funny.”
Sasuke shrugged.
Naruto, however, muttered under his breath, “Good for her.”
Sasuke quirked an eyebrow.
Naruto continued, his tone firm. “Hinata is the sweetest person I know. If she slapped you, that means you did something to deserve it.”
Sasuke leaned back slightly, considering his words. “…I did.”
Naruto stared at him, as if waiting for more, but when Sasuke said nothing, he let out another sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “You don’t get it, do you?”
Sasuke’s patience thinned. “Then explain it to me.”
Naruto turned fully to face him, eyes burning with frustration. “Hinata has spent her whole life being overlooked, being underestimated, being cast aside. And now she’s married to a man who barely acknowledges her, while that same man runs off to be with someone else.” His fingers dug into his palm. “You think she doesn’t feel that? You think it doesn’t hurt?”
Sasuke’s jaw tensed. He knew Hinata wasn’t happy, but…
“Have you even once thought about what it’s like for her?” Naruto pressed.
Sasuke frowned. “I—”
“Don’t answer that.” Naruto shook his head. “Because I already know. You haven’t. You’re too caught up in yourself, in whatever it is you have with Sakura-chan, to see it.”
Sasuke stayed silent.
Naruto exhaled, his anger simmering down into something almost sad. “She’s important to me, Sasuke. And I can’t stand watching her get hurt like this.”
A pang of something unfamiliar settled in Sasuke’s chest.
Naruto turned back to his ramen, picking up his chopsticks with a quiet, “You really don’t deserve her.”
Sasuke sat there, staring at his old friend, feeling something tighten inside him. He wanted to defend himself, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t know what to say.
Naruto scoffed and turned back to his ramen, stirring the broth absently with his chopsticks. “You have no idea how hard it is for me not to go see her. Not to be near her.” He let out a sharp exhale, gripping the chopsticks a little tighter. “If I did, I wouldn’t be able to hold back.”
Sasuke’s fingers twitched at his side.
Naruto kept going, his voice quieter now. “You think this is easy for me? Watching you treat her like she’s some burden? It’s hard enough seeing her at group outings, pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not.” He let out a humorless chuckle, staring into his bowl. “I do it because I respect your marriage. Because I’m not that guy. But you…you don’t even care, do you?”
Sasuke remained silent, jaw tight.
Naruto let out a sharp breath, shaking his head in frustration. “I tried talking sense into Sakura-chan too. Told her to let you go, to move the hell on. But she won’t. And neither will you.” His grip on his chopsticks turned white-knuckled, his jaw tight. “You’re both pathetic.”
His gaze snapped back to Sasuke, eyes blazing with anger barely held in check. “She keeps waiting on you like some lovesick idiot, and you keep stringing her along like a selfish bastard who wants to have it both ways. And don’t even get me started on how you treat Hinata.” He scoffed, disgusted. “You don’t deserve either of them.”
Sasuke’s eye twitched, but he still didn’t say anything.
Naruto sighed, setting his chopsticks down, his frustration shifting. “You don’t even know what you have, do you?” His voice softened as he leaned back slightly. “She’s…different. The way she can look at you, the way she talks to you…it’s not like how other people do. If you got to know her, you’d see that.” His gaze grew distant. “Hinata always knew when I was feeling off. Even when I tried to hide it, she’d see right through me. She never made a big deal about it, just did little things to make me feel better. She’d bring me my favorite snacks, tell me dumb stories to distract me, and…” He smiled faintly, eyes full of something Sasuke didn’t recognize. “She’d just sit with me. No pressure. No expectations. Just be there.”
Sasuke watched as Naruto’s expression shifted from irritation to something almost peaceful, as if he was seeing something far away.
“She used to leave little notes, you know?” Naruto chuckled, the sound light but tinged with something heavier. “Nothing dramatic. Just little reminders. ‘Don’t forget your gloves, it’s cold today.’ ‘Try not to push yourself too hard.’ One time, she made me a whole schedule when I forgot to sleep for two days straight.” He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I still have some of them. Stupid, huh?”
Sasuke didn’t answer.
“She loves her family,” Naruto continued, his voice quieter now. “Even though her dad’s a jerk sometimes. She’d still do anything for them. Risk her life for them without thinking twice. That’s just how she is.” He exhaled slowly. “That’s how she is with everyone she cares about.”
Naruto tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Sasuke. “You ever had her cooking?”
Sasuke blinked at the abrupt question. “No.”
Naruto frowned immediately. “Seriously?” His expression was almost offended. “You’ve been married for almost a year, and she hasn’t cooked for you?”
Sasuke shrugged. “I never asked her to.”
Naruto scoffed and swirled his chopsticks through the last of his ramen, not even looking at Sasuke as he spoke. "I guess you've been spending all your time with Sakura-chan or off leaving the village. That’s probably why you don’t know." His tone was casual, but the underlying accusation was clear.
Sasuke’s fingers twitched. His jaw tightened. "You don’t know what you're talking about," he muttered, the irritation creeping into his voice.
Naruto let out a sharp laugh, finally turning to face him. "Don’t I?" His blue eyes were piercing now, cutting through Sasuke’s cool exterior like a blade. "You really don’t think it’s obvious? You’ve barely been around, and when you are, you’re with her, aren’t you?"
Sasuke opened his mouth to fire back, but Naruto wasn’t finished.
“You’re missing out, man. That’s a crime.” He let out a dramatic groan, slapping a hand to his forehead before leaning forward, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. “There was this one time, for my birthday, she made me this insane meal. I don’t even know how she did it, but everything was perfect. I mean, perfect. Best birthday I ever had.” He laughed to himself. “And the best part? She didn’t even let me help clean up after. Just told me to sit and relax.”
Sasuke listened, his irritation shifting into something more complicated. He could hear the longing in Naruto’s voice, the ache beneath his words. It was subtle, but it was there.
Sasuke didn’t know whether to feel sympathy for the blonde or annoyance at the constant praise.
Because Naruto wasn't just reminiscing, he was missing her. That much was obvious.
Hinata was Sasuke's now, but she had been Naruto’s first. And even though Naruto had let her go, he was still here, talking about her with that same admiration, that same warmth that Sasuke had never seen directed toward anyone else.
Sasuke clenched his jaw and forced himself to look indifferent, but his fingers curled tighter against his knee.
He told himself he didn’t care.
Because what did it matter, anyway? It wasn’t like Hinata would ever do any of those things for him. The idea of her fussing over him, leaving notes, making meals, or even looking at him the way she had once looked at Naruto, it was laughable. She barely tolerated him.
But still, something about hearing it grated on him.
Naruto’s smile faded slightly as he looked at Sasuke again, his expression serious. “You have no idea how lucky you are.” His tone was firm, final. “And yet, you’re still choosing to be a bastard. Just like always.”
Sasuke’s lips pressed into a thin line.
Naruto pushed his empty bowl away, the scrape of ceramic against the counter cutting through the tense silence. He stretched, rolling his shoulders before turning to Sasuke, the easy grin he usually wore nowhere to be found.
“Get your act together.”
The words were quiet, but the weight behind them was anything but. Then, without hesitation, he slammed a hand down on Sasuke’s shoulder—hard. The impact wasn’t just firm, it was deliberate, meant to drive his point home. Sasuke felt the force of it vibrate through his bones.
“If I find out you’re still treating her like she doesn’t matter, if I hear even a whisper of you disregarding her again—” His grip tightened just enough to make his point clear. “We’re gonna have a real problem.”
No idle threat. No room for argument.
Naruto tossed a few ryo onto the counter and walked out, his presence lingering even after he was gone.
Sasuke stayed seated, staring at the empty stool beside him, his fingers curling into a fist against his knee. His frown deepened, irritation simmering beneath his skin.
x-x-x-x
He left Ichiraku with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, Naruto’s words swirling in his head like an irritating hum he couldn’t shake.
“You have no idea how lucky you are.”
Lucky?
There was nothing lucky about being trapped in a loveless marriage, forced into a life that wasn’t his choosing. Lucky would have been living the way he wanted, with the person he wanted. Instead, he was bound to a woman who barely spoke to him, who probably resented him as much as he resented the situation itself.
Sasuke exhaled sharply through his nose.
Naruto had spoken about Hinata as if she were some rare, unattainable treasure, something to be cherished, something Sasuke should have been grateful for. The way he reminisced, the way his features softened, as if remembering her touch, her voice, the way she cared.
It annoyed him.
Not because of Hinata, but because Naruto acted as if Sasuke had stolen something from him, as if he had something precious in his hands and was just tossing it aside.
But the itch in his chest, the one that had been there since the night before, had nothing to do with Naruto.
It had everything to do with someone else.
And as if fate was mocking him, Sasuke spotted the source of that irritation up ahead.
Kakashi walked at a casual pace, a small paper bag swinging at his side. His posture was as relaxed as ever, but the moment his gaze flickered toward Sasuke, there was a barely perceptible shift.
Not a flinch, just a hesitation.
Sasuke caught it immediately. Good.
He closed the distance between them, stepping directly into Kakashi’s path.
“Kakashi.”
Kakashi came to a slow stop, adjusting the paper bag in his grip. His head tilted slightly, a familiar, unreadable expression settling over his features. “Sasuke.”
There was a quiet patience in the way he said it, one that only fueled Sasuke’s irritation.
Sasuke didn’t waste time. “Why are you spending time with her?”
Kakashi blinked once, slow and deliberate. “With her?”
“You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
A thoughtful hum. Then a brief pause, as if he was genuinely trying to place it. His eye widened slightly, as if the answer had just dawned on him. “Oh. Hinata.”
Sasuke’s eyebrow twitched.
Kakashi wasn’t forgetful—he was being an ass.
“Why are you spending time with my wife?” Sasuke asked, his tone edged with impatience.
Kakashi shifted the bag in his grip, gaze drifting lazily. “Would you rather she be spending her time alone?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
Sasuke’s patience thinned further. “Answer the damn question.”
Kakashi studied him for a moment before offering a small shrug, casual and nonchalant. “We enjoy each other’s company,” he said easily. “We have similar interests. She’s easy to talk to.” His voice was light, almost unconcerned, but his gaze never wavered, watching him closely. “You’d know that if you spent time with her yourself.”
Sasuke’s jaw tensed.
“Do you spend time together often?”
“Quite a lot, actually. The past few months.” Kakashi let the words settle, giving them time to dig in before adding, “If you were around enough, maybe I wouldn’t have to.”
Sasuke’s fingers twitched.
It was a deliberate strike, subtle but sharp, meant to land right where it hurt. And it did.
But that wasn’t what made something coil tight in his chest.
It was the way Kakashi had said her name.
Not Hinata-chan.
Just Hinata.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re too old to be spending time with her.”
Kakashi exhaled through his nose, something flickering across his features too fast for Sasuke to catch.
Ah.
Sasuke had struck something.
He tilted his head, voice deliberate. “I don’t see what you two could possibly have in common. Unless you’re just hanging around her because you like the attention.”
Kakashi’s fingers tightened slightly around the bag.
Sasuke smirked. There it is.
“It’s a little pathetic, don’t you think? You should find someone your own age to waste your time with.”
Kakashi’s shoulders shifted, tension barely noticeable, but it was there.
And Sasuke poked.
“I suppose I understand, though,” he mused, smirking. “It must be difficult, being old and alone. I’m sure you enjoy the company of someone young and sweet doting on you.”
Kakashi’s eyes darkened.
And then, in the next moment, it cleared, like a storm passing in an instant. He exhaled slowly, as if resetting himself, and the shift in his posture was immediate.
Sasuke felt it the second the turn happened.
The moment Kakashi decided he was done playing.
The moment he flipped the script entirely.
Kakashi adjusted the bag in his grip, his head tilting slightly, gaze unreadable. Then, after a pause, he let out a quiet hum, like he was considering something far more interesting than the conversation at hand.
“I suppose I could seek out company more suited to my age,” he mused, voice carrying that familiar, easy lilt. “But then again…I’ve always found that connection matters more than counting years.” His eye flickered to Sasuke’s, sharp and deliberate. “And Hinata happens to be remarkable company.”
The words were light, casual even, but there was an unmistakable weight behind them, a subtle shift in the air, like a blade sliding into place.
Sasuke’s fingers twitched. His jaw locked.
Kakashi exhaled, almost like he pitied him. “You know,” he continued, his tone dipping lower, smoother, “for all your intelligence, you really don’t see what’s right in front of you, do you?” His gaze unwavering. “You have a woman most men would love to come home to…and yet, here you are, chasing something you already lost.”
Kakashi’s eyes curved slightly, something cryptic lingering in his tone as he added, “She deserves better than being an afterthought. And as long as she wants my company, I’ll be there. That much, I can promise you.”
The words struck harder than Sasuke expected.
Kakashi gave him a moment to process, then offered something almost like a smile, except it wasn’t warm, wasn’t kind. It was knowing.
Kakashi took a step back, still holding that same easy posture, before he turned on his heel. “Enjoy the rest of your morning, Sasuke-kun,” he said smoothly, walking away without another glance.
Sasuke stood rooted to the spot, the weight of Kakashi’s words pressing down on him like a slow, suffocating grip.
It clawed at something deep in his chest, something unspoken, something he refused to acknowledge.
His mind came up empty. No sharp retort. No cold dismissal.
Just silence.
And that silence burned more than any insult ever could.