Chapter 5
The kitchen air was thick with silence, the kind that suffocated rather than settled.
Sasuke sat across from her, just as he had the past five mornings, chopsticks in hand, his posture as still and stoic as ever.
It was still strange, having him here.
She had grown accustomed to his absence, to the quiet house that belonged to no one. But just as he said, he was home now. Every day. Every morning. Sitting across from her, acting as though his presence alone was enough to erase the past.
As though showing up now meant something.
Sasuke cleared his throat, a subtle attempt to remind her he was there, as if she could forget. “Do you have plans today?"
Hinata took her time answering, idly dragging her chopsticks over the edge of her bowl. “Tea with my father and Hanabi. After that, training.”
He gave a slight nod. “Send them my regards.”
She scoffed before she could stop herself.
It wasn’t loud, but it was sharp. Too sharp. The sound cut through the air like a blade, lingering longer than it should have.
She felt his eyes on her, but she didn’t look up.
Realizing she should respond, she finally muttered, “I will.”
A pause. A long one. She could feel him watching her, waiting for something more. But when she didn’t offer it, he tried again.
“Who are you training with?”
Hinata’s fingers tightened slightly around her chopsticks. “Just a sparring session.”
“With who?”
She finally looked up, meeting his gaze, her expression carefully blank. “Does it matter?”
Something flickered across his face, something unreadable. “It was just a question.”
Hinata exhaled through her nose, debating whether or not to answer. But then, she figured, why not? It wasn’t as though she had anything to hide.
“It’s Kakashi.”
Sasuke’s expression hardened. “I don’t approve.”
Hinata blinked, then slowly placed her chopsticks down beside her plate. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t approve of you spending time with him,” Sasuke said, his voice firm.
Hinata’s lips pressed together, but she said nothing.
Minutes passed before she finally spoke. “Kakashi is just a friend.” Her gaze held his, unwavering. “And I’m not sleeping in his bed .”
Sasuke’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as his face turned red with anger. She knew exactly what she was doing with that comment and she didn’t regret it.
His hands curled slightly on the table, tension rolling off him in waves. “I still don’t approve.”
Hinata tilted her head slightly, as if in thought. “And yet, I should be fine with you seeing Sakura?”
His jaw clenched. “I haven’t seen Sakura since I started staying home.”"And that’s supposed to mean something to me?"
Sasuke exhaled sharply through his nose. "It means I'm here. It means I’m trying ."
Hinata let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "Trying." She shook her head, picking up her teacup. "You think because you decided to be here, everything should be fine? That it happens when you want it to?"
"I'm saying I’m here now."
Hinata took a slow sip of tea before placing the cup down. "And I’m saying it’s not enough."
Sasuke’s fingers drummed once against the table, his frustration barely restrained. "Then stop seeing him."
Her brow furrowed slightly. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want you around him.”
Hinata studied him for a moment, then exhaled quietly, shaking her head. “I told you. He’s my friend. I’m not sleeping in his bed.” She let that hang in the air for a moment before adding, “And I will continue seeing my friend .”
Sasuke’s jaw flexed, his irritation palpable. "Hinata."
She held up a hand. "No. You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t see. Not after everything."
A tense silence stretched between them.
His fingers twitched slightly, but his expression remained controlled, though she could see the cracks in his restraint.
Eventually, he let out a slow breath, leaning back slightly. "We're not getting anywhere with this."
“No, we’re not.”
Another silence.
Sasuke’s gaze dropped to his bowl. Hinata turned back to hers, eating quietly, though the tension in the room did not fade.
When she finally pushed her empty bowls away, she stood, gathering their dishes and walking toward the sink without another word.
Behind her, Sasuke muttered, "I'm sorry."
She didn’t acknowledge it. Didn’t turn around.
The sound of the chair scraping abruptly against the wooden floor made her tense, her hands briefly tightening around the dish in her grasp.
She expected him to leave.
She expected the front door to open and shut as it always did when things didn’t go his way.
But instead, he was standing next to her.
Close.
Hinata kept her eyes on the sink, watching the water swirl around the dishes, but she could feel his gaze on her. Heavy. Uncertain.
She turned her head slightly, just enough to glance up at him. His eyes, once dark with irritation, now held something else. Something quieter.
Regret.
Shame.
He exhaled, voice lower this time. “I’m sorry.”
She stared at him for a long moment, searching his face, but she wasn’t sure what she was looking for.
Eventually, she gave a small nod. “Okay.”
Sasuke lingered, and for a brief second, she thought he might say something else. But then, he sighed.
She heard his footsteps retreat, then the creak of the front door. Then it shut. Hinata remained at the sink, her fingers still submerged in the water, her body still.
The weight in her chest wasn’t relief.
It wasn’t sadness.
It was just… there .
x-x-x-x
Standing outside the door, Sasuke dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling a slow, tired breath.
It felt like no matter what he did, no matter how much effort he put in, it never made a difference.
Hinata still barely spoke to him. When she did, her words were clipped, indifferent, like she was forcing herself to engage in conversation she had no interest in having.
He had thought, naively, maybe—that she would appreciate him being home after everything she had said in the past about his absence. But now that he was here, it felt like she would rather he wasn’t.
And maybe she would.
Maybe he should leave.
Because as much as he was trying, he still wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to be here. Every once in a while, his mind drifted back to Sakura. Not intentionally. But it happened. Because with her, things had been easy. Simple. With her, there was no expectation of being a husband, no weight of a marriage he had never wanted.
And yet, no matter how much comfort he found in her company, no matter how many late nights they spent together, he had drawn a line.
He had never slept under the sheets with her.
He had always remained on top of the blankets, even when she had tried to coax him beneath them, her voice teasing, her touch lingering.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what she wanted.
But he had told her no. Repeatedly.
And yet, despite knowing it was wrong, he had still allowed himself to be there. To lie beside her, to let the space between them blur into something dangerou
He had justified it to himself at the time. Told himself it wasn’t really crossing a line if he wasn’t touching her, if there was still something between them.
But the moment Sakura had blurted it out to Hinata, laying it all bare, exposing it like some cheap scandal, guilt had hit him like a bomb.
And then, something worse:
Annoyance .
Because she hadn’t needed to say it.
It had been unnecessary. Pointless.
It wasn’t as if she had confessed out of guilt. No, she had done it because she wanted Hinata to know. She had wanted her to react.
But Hinata hadn’t.
Or, at the very least, if she had been bothered, she hadn’t shown it.
No shouting. No accusations.
Nothing.
And for some reason, that had unsettled him more than if she had screamed at him. The coldness in her voice, the way she had dismissed Sakura as nothing more than his little distraction —it didn’t sit well with the pink-haired woman at all. At first, it should have bothered him too, the way Hinata spoke down on Sakura so easily, so effortlessly, right in front of him.
But the more he thought about it, the more he found himself… amused.
It was strange, twisted even.
Hinata, for all her supposed softness, had a sharp edge when she wanted to. An indifference that rivaled even his own. She annoyed him, pissed him off, dug her words into him in ways no one else ever had, and yet, there was something almost entertaining about it. The way she would look at him with those unreadable eyes, cutting through his composure without ever raising her voice.
It made him feel…
Sasuke inhaled sharply, shaking his head, forcing himself to push the thought aside before it could take shape.
No.
That wasn’t something he should dwell on.
Not when his heart still held onto the ghost of someone else. Not when the guilt of it crept beneath his skin like a slow, burning ache, reminding him that no matter what, this wasn’t right.
Sakura had turned to him afterward, something expectant in her gaze, as if waiting for something—reassurance, a promise, a reaction at all—but all he had felt was irritation.
Because in that moment, he realized something she clearly hadn’t:
Hinata wasn’t fighting for this marriage.
She wasn’t fighting him.
She wasn’t fighting for anything at all.
And for some reason, that thought had lingered in his mind long after the conversation had ended.
Sasuke walked.
His feet carried him through the village streets, but his mind was elsewhere, tangled in thoughts he didn't want to be having. There was no destination, just movement, just the desperate need to be anywhere but inside that house.
He had considered leaving Konoha before, but now the idea felt less like a fleeting thought and more like a necessity. A mission. A reason. An escape. He needed something—anything—to justify putting space between himself and the life he was tied to.
Going back to that house, to her, felt more unbearable with each passing day.
He had come home, hadn’t he? He had made an effort, sat across from her at breakfast, and asked her about her day. And yet, the silence between them had only grown heavier. Hinata met his attempts with short, detached responses, as if his presence was nothing more than an inconvenience.
Sasuke exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair.
He was at his limit.
And after Sakura had opened her mouth, things had only gotten worse.
Hinata had been tolerating him before that. Not warm, not welcoming, but at least there had been something. An ease, however small.
Then Sakura had seen them, had spoken without thinking—without caring about the weight her words carried.
Sakura had tried to smooth it over afterward, but he had barely spoken to her. He had been too irritated.
Too aware that whatever fragile progress he had made with Hinata had been shattered.
His thoughts churned, circling back to the same place over and over again. He needed to leave. Just for a little while. Just long enough to breathe.
“Sasuke!”
The voice cut through the noise of the street.
His shoulders stiffened, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd. An arm waved above the sea of people.
Sasuke sighed, shifting his path toward the voice. As he moved closer, the face of his sister-in-law came into view.
Hanabi.
Sasuke inhaled slowly through his nose, forcing his irritation to remain beneath the surface. Barely five seconds in, and she was already testing his patience.
He met her gaze with a blank stare. “I’ve been busy.”
Hanabi scoffed, unimpressed. “Yeah, sure .”
Sasuke clenched his jaw but said nothing, opting instead to fall into step beside her. If she was here to be a nuisance, he didn’t have the energy to stop her.
Hanabi had always been sharp-tongued, never one to hold back, but there was no malice in it. He had never minded her much. She talked too much, could be loud when she wanted to be, but at least she was straightforward.
“So,” Hanabi drawled, giving him a sideways glance. “How are things with my sister?”
Sasuke tensed. The shift in conversation was subtle, but it settled over him like an unwelcome weight.
He shrugged. “As good as it’s going to get.”
Hanabi stopped walking.
Sasuke turned to face her, catching the change in her expression. Her usual teasing smirk was gone, replaced by something more calculating.
“Have you ever been mean to her?”
His brow furrowed. “No.”
She didn’t blink.
After a beat, he exhaled. “…Hinata might say otherwise.
Hanabi arched her brow. “She definitely said otherwise.”
His patience was thinning. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want to know why you make it so damn difficult to get along with her.”
Sasuke’s jaw tightened. “It’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple,” she countered. “You’re married. You live together. You don’t have to be in love, but you could at least try not to make her miserable.”
His fists curled at his sides.
“I have been trying .”
Hanabi rolled her eyes. “Yeah? Sitting at the table in silence? Throwing a few forced questions at her before getting mad when she doesn’t give you the answers you want?” She shook her head. “You want this marriage to work, but only when it’s convenient for you.”
His frown deepened. “That’s not—”
“Then what is it?” she cut in.
He didn’t answer.
Because, as much as he wanted to argue, he didn’t have the energy.
Hanabi let out a slow sigh. “I get it. You didn’t choose this. Neither did she. But you chose to come home, Sasuke. So if you’re going to be here, then be here.”
His jaw locked.
He didn’t need this. Not from her.
But before he could speak, she suddenly jabbed him— hard —right in the chest.
Sasuke barely had a second to react before pain shot through him, sharp and direct.
She had struck a chakra point.
A calculated hit. Precise. Effective.
His body tensed, muscles tightening against the sting, but he refused to react. Refused to let her see it.
Hanabi leaned in slightly, her voice lower now, quiet but firm.
“The next time I see my sister cry because of you,” she said, her finger still pressing into him, “I won’t hesitate to hurt you. And this—” she applied more pressure before withdrawing “is nothing compared to what I can really do.”
Sasuke didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink
But the pain lingered. A dull ache pulsing beneath his ribs.
Then, as if nothing had happened, Hanabi smiled. Sweet. Innocent. Dangerous .
“I’ll see you around,” she said lightly, stepping past him. Then, over her shoulder, she called—
“Big brother.”
Sasuke watched her disappear into the crowd.
Only then did he let out a slow breath, his fingers brushing against the sore spot on his chest.
He frowned.
It hurt.
Not just the sharp ache where Hanabi had jabbed him, but something deeper. Something heavier.
He was beginning to grow tired of Hinata’s defenders—her sister, Naruto, and Kakashi —all standing in a circle around her, acting as though he was some villain lurking in the shadows, undeserving of the ground she walked on.
He was fucking trying .
What else could he possibly do?
He had come home. He had stayed. He had sat through the silence, the sharp looks, the cold indifference. He had tried to talk to her, to reach her in ways that didn’t come naturally to him. But no matter what he did, it was never enough.
Hinata still looked at him like he was a stranger.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s what infuriated him the most.
Because the times they had spent together, she had never looked at him like that when she was with Kakashi.
The thought made his blood simmer, something hot and unwelcome curling at the base of his throat.
With a sharp exhale, he turned on his heel, pushing the frustration deep into his chest, where it could rot with everything else he refused to deal with.
He will just continue trying.
x-x-x-x
The streets of Konoha bustled with life—merchants calling out their wares, shinobi moving with quiet purpose, villagers chatting as they passed. The noise barely registered in Hinata’s ears.
She walked toward the local teashop where she was supposed to meet her father and Hanabi, but her thoughts were tangled elsewhere, dragging her back to the same frustration she had been carrying for weeks now.
Sasuke.
More specifically, Sasuke and Sakura.
Even now, the knowledge sat heavy in her chest, like a dull ache that wouldn’t fade.
She hadn’t reacted when Sakura said it. Hadn’t flinched. Hadn’t let herself feel in that moment. She didn’t want them to see how much it truly bothered her.
Sasuke had slept in the same bed as his ex-girlfriend.
Maybe he hadn’t done anything, hadn’t crossed any physical lines, hadn’t given in to whatever Sakura had wanted from him, but he had still been there.
Lying beside her.
Letting the space between them blur into something intimate, something personal.
Something that wasn’t hers.
Hinata’s grip tightened slightly on the fabric of her sleeve.
She hadn’t expected love in this marriage, hadn’t expected warmth or companionship. But she had expected some level of respect. Some level of…decency.
And yet, the man she called her husband had spent his nights beside someone else.
She knew he was trying.
She saw the effort, the way he sat across from her at breakfast every morning, the way he asked her about her day, the way he lingered sometimes, as if waiting for her to let him in.
But she wasn’t ready.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever after all he’s put her through.
Hinata let out a slow breath, releasing some of the tension in her chest.
She reached the teashop, pushing open the wooden door. The scent of fresh tea leaves and honey met her instantly, familiar and soothing.
It was time to put this aside. At least for now.
She had no intention of letting her father or Hanabi see the storm still brewing inside her.
The soft chime of the entrance bell echoed through the teashop as Hinata stepped inside. The air was warm, carrying the scent of steeping jasmine and the faint sweetness of red bean pastries. It was a familiar place, one she had visited countless times before, but today, the comfort it usually provided felt distant.
She spotted her father and Hanabi seated near the back, away from the larger crowd. Her father, always composed, sat with perfect posture, his tea untouched in front of him. Hanabi, on the other hand, leaned back lazily, stirring her cup with a bored expression.
As Hinata approached, Hanabi’s gaze lifted to meet hers. Something flickered in her sister’s eyes, something sharp and knowing, but she said nothing as Hinata took her seat across from them.
“You’re late,” Hanabi noted, her tone more teasing than reprimanding.
Hinata folded her hands in her lap. “I didn’t realize the time.”
Her father gave her a brief nod, acknowledging her presence before lifting his teacup. “I ordered for you.”
Hinata murmured her thanks, her fingers tracing the edge of the table absentmindedly. She could feel Hanabi’s eyes lingering on her, expectant and unreadable.
It was only a matter of time before she said something.
“So,” Hanabi started, sipping her tea. “I ran into your husband.”
Hinata’s fingers stilled.
Her father’s gaze flickered to Hanabi, as if waiting to see where this conversation was going.
Hanabi swirled her tea idly, her expression unreadable. “We had an interesting conversation.”
Hinata already knew where this was headed.
She inhaled slowly, composing herself. “Did you?”
Hanabi leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her palm. “I asked him how things were between you two. He said, as good as it’s going to get.”
That…didn’t surprise her.
Her father set his cup down with a quiet clink. “Is there something I should be aware of?”
Hinata’s shoulders straightened instinctively, a habit ingrained from years under her father’s watchful eye. “No,” she said. “Everything is fine.”
She didn’t want to talk about that. Not now, anyway.
Hanabi scoffed. “Sure it is.”
Hinata gave her a pointed look, silently telling her to drop it. But Hanabi had never been good at taking hints.
“Look, I’ll be real with you,” Hanabi continued, unfazed. “Sasuke seems like an idiot, but he is trying. That’s more than some men in arranged marriages do.”
Hinata’s jaw tightened slightly, but she said nothing.
Hanabi leaned back in her chair. “You don’t have to love him. You don’t even have to like him. But what exactly are you waiting for?”
Hinata’s grip on her sleeve tightened. “I’m not waiting for anything.”
Hanabi’s gaze sharpened. “Aren’t you?”
Hinata took a slow sip of her tea, giving herself a moment to gather her thoughts.
She had spent weeks suppressing the frustration inside her, trying to navigate the emotional weight of everything that had happened. She had endured Sasuke’s absence, then his sudden presence, and now his efforts, efforts that, despite everything, felt too late.
She wasn’t waiting for anything.
She was just…not ready.
Not ready to forgive. Not ready to act as if everything was fine just because Sasuke had decided to be present now.
And she certainly wasn’t ready to pretend that his nights with Sakura didn’t matter.
She set her cup down carefully, meeting Hanabi’s gaze. “I’ll handle things in my own time.”
Hanabi studied her for a moment before shrugging. “Fair enough.”
Their father, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, finally spoke. “You are a married woman now, Hinata. That requires patience and understanding.”
Hinata’s lips pressed together, but she nodded. She wasn’t sure how much patience she had left. And understanding?
There wasn’t much of that, either.
But for now, she would let this conversation end and enjoy her time with her family.
x-x-x-x
The walk to the training grounds felt longer than usual. She had spent a longer time with her father and sister than she assumed. She hoped Kakashi hadn’t decided to leave due to her taking too long.
Hinata’s heart pounded a little harder with every step, her breath coming just a little faster the closer she got. It was ridiculous, she had trained with Kakashi before, had spoken with him plenty of times, but something about today felt different.
Maybe it was because of the way her heart fluttered whenever he pulled down his mask around her, something he never did for anyone else.
Maybe it was because, despite herself, she had started to look forward to these moments with him.
She passed through the clearing, and there he was—leaning against a tree, his head tilted slightly downward, eyes skimming over a small orange book.
Her steps slowed.
Kakashi wasn’t wearing his usual jonin vest today. Instead, he wore a simple sleeveless black shirt, the fabric snug against his well-toned torso, the high collar extending into his mask. His arms, strong, lean, bare, were crossed loosely over his chest, and as her gaze swept over him, she caught sight of the ANBU tattoo inked into his left shoulder.
Hinata swallowed.
Stop staring!
She forced herself to look away, scolding herself internally as she stepped forward, clearing her throat to announce her presence.
Kakashi looked up instantly, his visible eye crinkling as he waved. “Ah, there you are.”
Pushing himself off the tree, he slipped a finger between the pages of his book to mark his place, then slipped it into his pouch before walking toward her.
Hinata couldn’t help but notice how fluidly he moved, slow, deliberate, as if every step was calculated. He stopped just in front of her, tilting his head slightly as he studied her.
“How was your morning?” he asked casually.
She let out a soft sigh. “It was…frustrating.”
Kakashi hummed, his eye flickering with mild curiosity.
She hesitated for a brief moment, but then the words spilled from her lips before she could stop them. She told him about breakfast with Sasuke, about the cold distance between them, about how hard he was trying, but how she wasn’t ready yet.
She barely noticed how much she was talking until she finally caught herself, her lips pressing together in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to overshare.”
Kakashi merely chuckled. “Hinata, I’ve listened to you many times before. Not once have I ever been annoyed.” His eyes softened slightly before he continued, “It’s understandable that you’re frustrated. Sasuke being home now doesn’t erase everything that happened before. And just because he’s trying doesn’t mean you’re required to be ready to meet him halfway.”
Hinata blinked up at him, surprised by how easily he put her emotions into words.
“But,” Kakashi added, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully, “I think the question you have to ask yourself is, what do you want from this marriage? If you’re waiting for him to fix what was broken, you might be waiting a long time. But if you’re just looking for peace between you two, you’ll have to figure out what that looks like for you, not for him.”
Hinata lowered her gaze, mulling over his words.
It wasn’t anything she hadn’t thought of before, but hearing it from him, clear, logical, with no expectations behind it, made it settle differently in her mind.
She exhaled softly. “You give good advice,” she admitted, giggling softly behind her hand.
“That’s what I’m here for. Well, that and your company, of course.” Then, with a smirk, he added, “Though, between us, I’d say your company is the better part of the deal.”
He winked.
Hinata’s cheeks flared with heat.
“Shall we start training?” he asked smoothly, as if he hadn’t just made her heart stutter in her chest.
Hinata quickly nodded, eager to change the subject, and stepped back into position.
Kakashi’s stance was relaxed, but she knew better than to assume that meant he wasn’t ready.
She moved first, her hands forming quick seals before launching toward him with a palm strike. He dodged effortlessly, shifting just enough to avoid contact, but she was ready for that. Twisting on her heel, she sent a controlled burst of chakra toward his ribs.
Kakashi caught her wrist before she could land the hit, his grip firm but never painful.
“You’re fast,” he mused, his thumb grazing lightly over the inside of her wrist before he let go
Hinata barely had time to process the way her skin tingled before he was countering, forcing her to go on the defensive.
The sparring started off playful, quick, controlled movements, light taps meant to test each other rather than harm. But as time passed, something shifted.
The blows became sharper. The dodges became more precise.
The space between them shrank.
Hinata ducked under a swipe aimed at her shoulder, twisting into a counterattack. Kakashi blocked her strike, but instead of pulling away, his fingers skimmed her hip, lingering for just a second too long before he pushed her back.
Her breath hitched.
Then, in the next instant, he was behind her.
She barely had time to react before his fingers ghosted against the curve of her waist, his voice just above a whisper.
“Too slow.”
A shiver rolled down her spine.
Hinata spun, breaking free of his reach, her pulse hammering. She could see the shift in his expression, knew he felt it too. The subtle weight in the air between them, the way their movements felt more like a dance than a fight.
But then, a misstep.
A quick exchange, a misplaced foot, and suddenly—
They fell.
Hinata landed hard, her hands splayed against solid muscle.
The world slowed.
She barely registered the fact that she had landed on top of him, barely processed the warmth of his body beneath hers.
Kakashi lay beneath her, his eyes wide, his breath shallow.
She was starting to feel like she was in a cliched romance novel.
Hinata was frozen, heart pounding wildly against her ribs as she met his gaze. His hands were still on her hips, as if caught between the instinct to steady her and the realization of what had just happened.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. His fingers flexed against her for the briefest second before he cleared his throat.
“Not exactly the kind of takedown I expected from you,” he murmured, voice laced with something unreadable.
Heat flooded her face.
Hinata scrambled off him, her breath coming in quick, panicked gasps. “I-I’m so sorry!”
Kakashi sat up slowly, resting his arms on his bent knees. He let out a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with a slightly embarrassed expression.
“I have to admit,” he mused, “if falling like that means I get to see you up close, I might just stop dodging next time.”
Hinata’s breath caught in her throat. Her entire face burned. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again, only for more flustered apologies to tumble out as she bowed her head, mortified beyond belief.
Kakashi only laughed, standing to his feet before offering her a hand.
Hinata hesitated, but slowly reached out, placing her hand in his.
His fingers curled around hers, warm and firm, holding just a moment too long before he finally let go.
“You’re a good sparring partner,” he said, his tone softer now. “We should do this again.”
Hinata swallowed, still recovering from everything that had just happened. But when she looked up at him, saw the warmth in his gaze, she couldn’t help but smile.
“I’d like that,” she admitted.
Silence settled between them, their gazes lingering just a fraction too long. A sharp chirping sound broke through the air. They both flinched, looking toward the treetops where a small bird had landed on a branch above them.
The moment shattered.
Hinata quickly stepped back, and Kakashi let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck once more.
“Well,” he mused, glancing at her. “Guess the universe thought we needed a reality check.”
She let out a small breath of laughter, her lips curving despite herself. “Maybe we did.”
They stood there in the clearing, the quiet stretching between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was something beneath the silence, something neither of them addressed.
Then, Kakashi tilted his head slightly. “Are you aware of the festival next week?”
Hinata blinked, caught off guard by the shift in conversation. “Yes,” she answered softly. “It falls on my one-year anniversary with Sasuke.”
She didn’t say it with any particular emotion, just a fact. A date on the calendar that marked a year of…what? A marriage that felt more like a silent truce than a partnership.
She glanced at Kakashi, noticing the way his brows furrowed just slightly, his shoulders tensing for the briefest moment. But then, as if catching himself, he smoothed his expression, his voice casual as he asked, “Will you two do something for it?”
Hinata gave him a pointed look
“I highly doubt it,” she said, her voice even. “We probably won’t even go to the festival together.”
Kakashi hummed in response, but she caught the way his eye flickered with something unreadable before he shrugged. “Maybe he’ll surprise you.”
Hinata let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “I doubt it.”
The thought of Sasuke making an effort, genuinely trying to do something for their anniversary, felt like a foolish hope. He was trying in his own way, but not in the ways that mattered to her. Not in ways that could fix what had already been broken.
And if she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted him to.
Hinata shifted, smoothing down her sleeves. “I should head home for the day.”
For the briefest second, Kakashi hesitated.
It was subtle—just a flicker of something in his stance, in the slight way his weight shifted, like he wanted to say something but changed his mind. Then, just as quickly, he masked it with a light shrug.
“I’ll walk you home,” he offered.
Hinata hesitated.
She should refuse. Should put some space between them, let this be the end of their day together. But the truth was…she didn’t want to.
Lately, Kakashi had been making her feel things she couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just the comfort of his presence, it was the way he spoke to her, the way his voice softened when he said her name, the way he looked at her sometimes, as if he saw something no one else did.
And then there was the teasing. The flirting.
Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it?
Or was she just imagining it?
She could never quite tell with him.
But whatever it was, whatever game he was playing, whether intentional or not, it made her blush every time.
So instead of refusing, she simply murmured, “I don’t mind.”
Kakashi’s eye curved slightly, a sure sign of a hidden smile. “Good,” he said easily, as if he had been expecting that answer.
They walked side by side, and it didn’t take long for Hinata to realize that this wasn’t the usual path home.
Instead of taking the direct route back to the village, Kakashi had led her toward a quieter, more scenic trail, weaving through trees where golden light filtered through the branches. The sound of the bustling village faded, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds.
Hinata glanced at him, arching a brow. “This isn’t the fastest way back.”
Kakashi gave a nonchalant shrug. “No, but it’s the best view.”
Warmth spread across her cheeks.
He had done this on purpose.
She could call him out on it, but…she wouldn’t.
Because despite herself, despite the way she should have ended their time together, she wanted to stay in his presence just a little longer.
The path stretched ahead of them, winding through tall trees bathed in golden light. Leaves rustled overhead, carried by the soft breeze, and for a moment, Hinata let herself enjoy the quiet.
She stole a glance at Kakashi. His posture was easy, hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze scanning the trees like he was memorizing every detail. He had always carried himself like that, casual, but observant, like nothing ever slipped past him.
A thought came to her, one she had never voiced before.
“What was it like?” she asked suddenly.
Kakashi turned his head toward her. “What was what like?”
“Being Hokage,” she clarified, glancing up at him. “You don’t talk about it much.”
Kakashi blinked, as if surprised she had even asked. Then, with a soft chuckle, he shook his head. “Most people don’t ask. They assume I hated it.”
Hinata tilted her head slightly. “Did you?”
His lips curled slightly behind his mask. “At times,” he admitted. “It wasn’t exactly the dream job for someone like me. Too much paperwork, too many formalities. I spent more time signing documents than actually doing anything interesting.”
Hinata giggled softly, and he smirked down at her.
“But,” he continued, his voice taking on a thoughtful edge, “there were parts of it I didn’t mind. Seeing the village grow, helping the next generation step into their roles. I had the privilege of watching the world settle after so much war. That part…I think I liked that.”
Hinata watched the way his expression softened, as if he were lost in a memory. She had never really thought about what it must have been like for him, not just as Hokage, but as someone who had spent his entire life watching people he cared for disappear, only to finally reach an era of peace.
“That must have been fulfilling,” she said softly.
Kakashi hummed, looking ahead. “It was. But I was more than happy to pass the title along.” He glanced at her, his tone teasing. “I much prefer my life now, wandering, reading literature, corrupting minds with my wisdom.”
Hinata laughed, shaking her head. “That sounds more like you.”
He grinned beneath his mask but said nothing, the comfortable silence stretching between them once more.
Then, after a moment, he spoke again.
“Hinata.”
She looked up at him.
Kakashi kept his gaze forward as he asked, “You don’t think it’s strange, do you?”
She blinked. “Strange?”
“That we spend time together.” His voice was still casual, but there was something just beneath the surface, something careful. “I’m quite a bit older than you.”
Hinata studied him for a moment, noting the slight furrow of his brows, the way his fingers twitched slightly at his sides.
“I don’t mind,” she said simply. “We get along well.”
Kakashi didn’t respond immediately.
She continued to watch him, noticing how his usually relaxed expression had darkened into something more somber, something more…uncertain.
Before she could stop herself, she reached out and took both of his hands in hers.
Kakashi’s body went still.
Hinata felt the roughness of his palms against her skin, the warmth of his hands as she held them between her own.
“You’re my friend,” she said softly, looking up at him. “You’ve been a pillar in my life these past few months. And whether you realize it or not, you’ve helped me more than I can say.”
Kakashi didn’t speak. He just watched her, his dark eyes locked onto hers, unreadable.
She swallowed, forcing herself to continue. “As for the age difference…I don’t care about that. I never have. I’ve always believed that connections between people aren’t defined by numbers. They’re built on understanding, on trust.” She squeezed his hands gently. “And I trust you, Kakashi.”
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, before she could react, he reversed their grip, shifting his fingers so that he was the one holding her hands.
Hinata’s breath hitched.
His touch was firm but careful, his thumbs ghosting over the back of her hands as if memorizing the feel of them. She looked up at him questioningly, her cheeks burning, but he didn’t speak right away.
Then, finally, his fingers curled slightly around hers, his voice dropping lower, slower…deeper.
“I wish you weren’t married.”
Hinata’s eyes widened.
His words weren’t loud, weren’t forceful, but they wrapped around her like a slow burn, sinking into her skin, making her pulse race. The way he said it, the huskiness in his voice, the weight of his gaze, it wasn’t just a simple statement.
It was something more.
Something that made a heat pool in her stomach.
Her lips parted slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Kakashi…”
But then, just as suddenly as he had taken her hands, he let them go.
Hinata barely had a moment to process it before he raised his hand, his fingers brushing beneath her chin, light, barely a touch, but enough to make her breath catch.
It looked like he was about to say something else. Something she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear. But then, at the last second, his hand dropped. He turned abruptly, walking ahead.
“We should keep walking.” His voice had returned to its usual smoothness, as if nothing had just happened.
Hinata stood frozen for a moment, her heart hammering so loudly in her ears that she could barely hear the rustling of the trees around them.
She wasn’t sure what had just happened.
Or maybe…she was.
Slowly, shakily, she took a breath and followed after him.
x-x-x-x
The glow of the lanterns hanging outside Hinata’s home cast a soft, golden hue over the porch, stretching elongated shadows across the wooden panels beneath their feet. Kakashi stood beside her, his hands tucked in his pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever. But beneath the mask, beneath the carefully crafted nonchalance, his mind was a storm.
What the hell was that back there?
He hadn’t meant to say it.
Those words— I wish you weren’t married —had slipped past his lips before he could think better of it.
What had possessed him? He wasn’t some reckless, lovesick fool who couldn’t keep his emotions in check. He was a man who knew better. A man who had seen enough of the world to understand that some things just weren’t meant to be.
And yet…
His gaze flickered downward, watching as Hinata lingered at her front door, her fingers brushing over the fabric of her sleeve in that nervous way she always did when she was lost in thought. She wasn’t in any rush to go inside.
Kakashi inhaled slowly, keeping his expression light, but inside, he was still wrestling with the weight of his growing emotions.
He had to remind himself—she was married.
This wasn’t just some passing fancy, some fleeting attraction. This was a woman who belonged to someone else. And worse, he was contradicting himself.
For weeks now, he had been giving Sasuke a hard time for what he had done, for the way he had betrayed his marriage, the way he had emotionally stepped out before he could physically do so. Kakashi had judged him for it, and had found himself disappointed in both him and Sakura.
And yet, here he was.
Walking the long way home with another man’s wife, enjoying the sound of her laughter, watching her face light up in ways he suspected it hadn’t in a long time.
He knew this wasn’t right.
But it didn’t stop him from flirting with her.
And he enjoyed it—more than he probably should.
The way she blushed whenever he teased her, the way her breath caught when he leaned in just a little closer than necessary. The way her eyes flickered with warmth when she looked at him, when she saw him, when she spoke to him like he was someone worth her time .
And deep down, beneath all the justifications and rational thoughts, there was a selfish part of him that didn’t want Sasuke to fix things.
Because the moment he did, the moment they worked it out, Kakashi knew he wouldn’t get to see her like this anymore. Wouldn’t get to stand beside her, wouldn’t get to be the one she laughed with, wouldn’t get to steal these moments where she was just Hinata, not Sasuke’s wife.
The thought of that settled like a heavy stone in his chest. He cared about her. He liked her. He liked her a lot.
He felt Sasuke’s chakra before he saw him, distracting him from his thoughts.
It was close. Watching.
Just like last time, when Kakashi had caught the faintest glint of dark eyes peering from a window. He had ignored it then, and he ignored it now, though he could feel the weight of it pressing into them like an unseen force.
Would Sasuke finally step up?
Would he and Hinata make amends?
Kakashi wanted the best for her. He really did. But there was a selfishness in him that hated the idea of her happiness meaning she’d never look at him the way she had been lately.
Hinata turned to face him, her voice gentle. “I had a good time training with you.
Kakashi pushed down the ache in his chest and let a smile curl behind his mask. “So did I,” he said easily, then added with a teasing lilt, “Though, I think the highlight was the fall.”
A blush immediately bloomed across her cheeks, and Kakashi felt something warm spread in his chest at the sight of it. Cute.
Before she could retaliate, the door suddenly swung open.
Sasuke stood there, his sharp gaze flicking between the two of them, settling on Kakashi with a hardened glare.
Hinata’s entire body language changed.
The brightness in her eyes, the soft flush of her cheeks, all of it drained away, replaced by a rigid stillness. She turned to Kakashi, her voice quieter now, more guarded. “I’ll see you soon.”
Kakashi gave her a slow nod, a knowing look in his eye. “Looking forward to it.” His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was something else in it too. Something only for her. And he could tell Sasuke picked up on it.
Hinata’s blush deepened as she turned away, stepping past Sasuke and into the house.
Sasuke didn’t move.
The door remained open behind him, but he stood there, watching Kakashi like a predator sizing up another male in its territory. His jaw was clenched, his hands at his sides, tense.
“I told you to stay away from my wife.”
Kakashi sighed, tilting his head slightly. “You did.”
Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “And yet here you are.”
Kakashi let the silence hang for a moment before speaking again. “There’s a festival next week.”
Sasuke’s brows furrowed. “What?”
“You should take your wife,” Kakashi said, voice slow, deliberate. “Watch the fireworks together. Surprise her.”
Sasuke’s frown deepened. “I don’t need your advice.”
Kakashi smirked behind his mask. “You’re not doing very well communicating with your wife, Sasuke. Between the two of us, Hinata prefers my company.” His tone was casual, almost bored, but there was an sharpness beneath it. “And because of that, I know what she wants . I’m doing you a favor, tossing you a bone, so to speak.”
Sasuke’s fists twitched at his sides. “Well, I don’t need it.”
Kakashi only shrugged, turning his back to the younger man. “If you won’t take her, then I will.”
He paused, not turning around, but his voice dipped just slightly. “Hinata’s a good woman. And you’ve done too much damage. That’s why she’s cold toward you.”
The words hung between them, the weight of them undeniable.
“If you want to reach her, you’ll have to try harder. But if you think it’s a waste of time…”
Kakashi glanced over his shoulder then, his voice dropping into something more dangerous.
“Just know—I’ll be there. Because I’ve been there before when she cried about you.” His tone was smooth, but the weight of it was a warning. “And I hate seeing her sad.”
With that, Kakashi stepped off the porch and walked away, not bothering to wait for Sasuke’s response.
He didn’t need to hear it.
Because he had already won this round.
x-x-x-x
The house was silent as she walked through the hallways, the soft tap of her light footsteps padded against the polished wooden floor the only sound that followed her. The warmth of the evening air still clung to her skin, the lingering scent of the trees and crisp breeze from her walk home wrapping around her like a ghost of a memory. The weight of the day pressed against her shoulders, her thoughts swirling in a quiet, chaotic storm.
She should have gone straight to her room, but something pulled her toward the kitchen. Perhaps it was a habit. But as she stepped into the kitchen, she stopped.
The table was set.
Her breath caught, her gaze flickering over the simple yet carefully arranged meal in front of her. A plate of neatly shaped onigiri sat beside a small bowl of wakame seaweed salad and miso soup, steam still curling in the air above it. It wasn’t extravagant, nor was it anything overly complicated, but the sight of it, this quiet effort, this unexpected act of care, made something twist deep in her chest.
For a moment, she just stood there, staring at the meal as if trying to decipher some hidden message within it.
Had Sasuke done this?
For her?
A soft, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of her lips before she could stop it. It wasn’t large, it wasn't bright, but it was real .
And, of course, the moment it appeared was the exact moment he walked into the room.
Hinata quickly schooled her expression, catching Sasuke’s gaze as he stepped into the kitchen. His usual guarded expression was there, the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into loose fists at his sides as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.
Her eyes flickered back to the table.
“You made dinner?” she asked softly.
His gaze lingered on her for a beat before he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Yeah.” His voice was even, steady, but she noticed the way his jaw tensed just slightly. “I’m not a great cook. It’s the only thing I know how to make.”
Hinata looked at the food again, something tender and hesitant blooming inside her chest.
“Is it edible?” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper.
A scoff left his lips, but there was no real bite to it. “It won’t kill you.”
A quiet laugh escaped her, small and fleeting, but it was enough to make his eyes flicker with something unreadable.
She hesitated for only a moment before gesturing toward the table. “Should we have dinner?”
Sasuke didn’t answer right away. He only grunted in response before taking a seat, his movements stiff, but controlled. She followed, settling across from him.
The meal passed in silence at first, the soft clink of chopsticks against ceramic the only thing filling the space between them.
But she could feel his eyes on her.
Hinata kept her expression neutral, focusing on her food, pretending not to notice the way he was studying her. She knew what he was waiting for. He wanted to know what she thought of it. Wanted to know if she would say something, acknowledge the effort, the attempt.
But for once, she let him wait.
He was the first to break the silence. “So…your day was fine?”
His tone was different this time. Not as stiff, not as forced.
Hinata glanced up at him, catching the way he met her gaze with something close to uncertainty.
She decided to let her own edges soften just slightly.
“Yes,” she answered simply.
Sasuke’s brows twitched up in the faintest flicker of surprise before his expression returned to neutral. He schooled his face quickly, but she had caught it, had seen the way her softened tone had momentarily thrown him off.
She let the quiet stretch for another moment before finally setting her chopsticks down.
“The food is good,” she said, her voice honest.
Sasuke’s brow lifted slightly, a rare flicker of curiosity passing through his features. “Are you alright?”
Hinata almost laughed. The question was too familiar. Too much like what she had asked him only a few days ago.
She gave a small nod. “I can see that you’re making an effort,” she admitted, her fingers brushing absently over the rim of her bowl. “But…it’s going to take time for me.”
He didn’t respond, didn’t move. He only watched her.
She hesitated, choosing her next words carefully. “Hearing about you sleeping in the same bed as Sakura…it hurt.” Her voice was steady, but there was something raw beneath it. She inhaled, willing herself to keep going. “Do you want to know a secret?”
Sasuke didn’t speak, but she could tell by the way he stilled that he was listening.
“I cried that night.”
The words hung between them, delicate and heavy.
Hinata swallowed. “It felt silly, but I couldn’t stop. And ever since then, it’s been hard for me to forget.” She glanced at the meal before them, her fingers tightening slightly against the fabric of her sleeve. “But…coming home to a cooked meal by my estranged husband did soften my heart a bit.”
A beat of silence.
Then, to her utter surprise—
Sasuke smirked.
“Only a bit?”
Hinata blinked.
She had never— never —seen him smile like that. Not toward her .
Her lips parted slightly in shock, but then, before she could stop herself, she lifted her fingers, holding her thumb and index finger close together.
“Only a bit,” she murmured.
His smirk widened. And then, with a scoff, he muttered under his breath, “Idiot.”
The words were spoken without malice, without resentment. Just something familiar.
Something warm .
For the first time since their marriage began, the weight between them felt lighter. The air didn’t feel so suffocating. It was strange, unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.
Maybe things could change.
Maybe.
The rest of dinner passed with small conversations, nothing too deep, nothing that risked the fragile peace they had settled into. She was careful. He was careful. But somehow, it was enough.
When they finished, they both picked up their dishes, moving to the sink. Hinata turned on the water, ready to start washing, but Sasuke spoke.
“Can you do it later?”
She turned to him, confused. “Why?”
He wiped his hands off on a cloth before glancing toward the door. “I want to show you something.”
Curious, Hinata turned off the water and followed him outside.
She was about to ask where they were going, but before she could, Sasuke leaped onto the rooftop. She hesitated only for a moment before following. When she reached the top, she found him lying on his back, arms crossed against his chest, staring at the sky.
His eyes flickered toward her. “Why are you just standing there?” he asked. “Come on.”
The rooftop tiles were cool beneath her as she slowly lowered herself down, lying beside Sasuke with careful, measured movements. She kept an arm’s length between them, unsure of what exactly they were doing here, unsure of him .
The evening sky stretched above them, painted in warm hues of orange and pink, the last traces of daylight clinging stubbornly to the horizon. The air carried the soft scent of earth and summer wind, rustling the leaves below in quiet, rhythmic waves.
Everything felt… different.
Sasuke had cooked for her tonight. Had asked her to sit with him. And now, he had brought her here—to lay beneath the sky with him, to share a moment that felt neither obligatory nor strained.
She didn’t know what to make of it.
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to make anything of it.
And then—
“What does that cloud look like to you?”
Hinata blinked.
Her head turned slightly, her brows furrowing as she glanced at Sasuke. His voice had been casual, but the question itself had thrown her completely off course.
He was still staring up at the sky, his expression unreadable, his tone flat as if this was just an ordinary conversation.
She stared at him, waiting for some kind of explanation. When none came, she asked, “What?”
Sasuke pointed upward again, exhaling like this was the most normal thing in the world. “The cloud,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time. “What does it look like?”
Hinata hesitated.
Her confusion only deepened.
Was he serious ?
Sasuke Uchiha—her cold, stoic husband who rarely engaged in casual talk, let alone cloud-gazing —was asking her to play a game she hadn’t played since she was a child?
She studied him for a long moment, searching for any sign that he was mocking her, that this was some kind of strange test she was about to fail.
But his face was blank, his gaze still fixed on the drifting sky.
A strange, unsettled feeling curled inside her chest.
Still, she humored him.
She exhaled softly, tilting her head back toward the sky, her eyes trailing across the shifting clouds above. One of them, in particular, caught her attention—a large, puffy mass with a distinct curve.
She narrowed her eyes.
“…A banana.”
Beside her, Sasuke let out a sharp snort, the sound breaking through the stillness of the air. “No way. It’s clearly a boat.”
Hinata turned her head sharply toward him, her lips parting in disbelief. “It’s a banana .”
Sasuke scoffed, unimpressed. “You have terrible perception.”
Hinata pushed herself up slightly onto her elbows, eyes narrowing. “ Excuse me? ”
He gestured toward the sky, exasperated. “Look at the shape. It’s got an edge here, a curve there—it’s obviously a boat.”
Hinata shook her head stubbornly, unwilling to concede. “It’s a banana.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It’s not .”
“You’re blind. ”
“And you’re wrong. ”
They fell into a ridiculous, quiet bickering match, their voices hushed but determined, neither willing to back down.
For the first time in their marriage, their conversation wasn’t cold, wasn’t tense, wasn’t carefully calculated to avoid old wounds.
For the first time, they weren’t just two people stuck in a marriage.
They were just two people.
And then, without warning—Hinata laughed.
The sound slipped out before she could stop it, soft and breathless, bubbling up from somewhere deep in her chest.
It startled her.
Had she ever laughed like this around him before? Aside from the giggle that escaped when he was hiding from his fangirls. The realization hit her harder than she expected, but she didn’t suppress it.
She let it happen.
The sheer absurdity of it all, lying on a rooftop, arguing over cloud shapes with Sasuke Uchiha of all people—was ridiculous enough to send another giggle spilling from her lips.
But then—
She noticed Sasuke wasn’t laughing.
Her laughter slowly faded, her breath hitching as she turned her head.
He was staring at her.
And it wasn’t his usual cold, assessing stare.
His dark eyes were locked onto her face, unreadable, quiet in a way that sent a strange, fluttering sensation through her stomach. His expression wasn’t distant, wasn’t indifferent—
It was something else entirely.
Hinata felt a warmth creep up her throat.
She didn’t understand this look.
Didn’t understand why he was looking at her like this, like he was seeing her in a way he hadn’t before.
She swallowed, heart pounding in her ears.
Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, his lips curled into something faintly resembling a smile.
A real one.
Not a smirk.
Not a sneer.
Just a small, quiet smile.
And then, he exhaled a soft chuckle, shaking his head.
“Idiot.”
Hinata blinked, her momentary shock snapping into immediate indignation.
“Why am I an idiot?” she demanded, her frown deepening as she turned toward him fully.
Sasuke didn’t answer right away.
Instead, his gaze lingered on her for a beat longer, something flickering behind his eyes—something she couldn’t name.
Then, after a long pause, he exhaled again, softer this time.
“You’re not…I’m the idiot.”
Hinata’s brows furrowed, confusion knitting across her features. “What?”
Sasuke turned his head away, his jaw tightening slightly. “It’s not important.”
Hinata opened her mouth to argue, to demand an explanation—but something in the way he said it, in the way his voice lowered just enough to sound almost self-deprecating, made her pause.
She decided to let it go.
The breeze carried the scent of dewy grass and the faint lingering heat of the day as she lay on the rooftop beside Sasuke, the cool tiles beneath her spine grounding her as she tried to steady the thoughts swirling in her head. The sky above stretched endlessly, painted in hues of deepening blue, with streaks of twilight brushing against the horizon. Clouds drifted lazily, shifting in the slow rhythm of the wind.
For once, things between them weren’t tense.
There was no sharpness in her tone, no hard edge to his words. No ghosts lingering between them, whispering names they dared not say aloud.
She should have been grateful for that.
And yet
Her thoughts began to drift eslewhere.
Despite her best efforts, her mind kept pulling her back to someone else—someone who had been making it harder and harder to ignore the storm growing inside of her.
Kakashi.
Hinata’s fingers curled slightly against the fabric of her sleeve as she exhaled slowly, trying not to let the warmth creep up her neck. But it was useless. Because no matter how hard she tried to push it away, she could still hear his voice, that deep, smooth timbre sliding over her skin like silk.
"I wish you weren’t married."
A confession? A careless remark? A tease meant to fluster her?
She didn’t know.
But it was the way he said it, the way his voice had dipped low, the way he had looked at her when he said it, like it was something heavy, something unspoken that had been resting on his tongue for longer than she realized.
Hinata’s chest tightened.
Kakashi had always been playful, always had a teasing lilt to his words. But lately, it felt different. The way he spoke to her, the way he lingered just a little too long, the way his touch would stay against her skin for just a breath more than necessary.
Was it real?
Or was she reading too much into it?
She shouldn’t even be thinking about this.
She was sitting beside her husband.
Sasuke had cooked for her tonight, had tried in his own way, and here she was, lying beside him, thinking about another man, about Kakashi’s voice, Kakashi’s presence, Kakashi’s warmth. The way he made her laugh, made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t in a long time. The way he smiled when he wasn’t wearing his mas
Hinata squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing the heat rising to her face.
She needed to stop.
She needed to stop wondering what his hands would feel like if they really cupped her cheek, if his lips—
No.
She shook her head sharply, as if that alone would erase the images forming in her mind.
And then—
A sharp tug on her hair.
Hinata gasped, turning sharply to glare at Sasuke, her hand immediately rubbing the spot he had pulled.
“You didn’t have to pull so hard,” she muttered, frowning at him.
Sasuke barely looked fazed. “You weren’t answering when I called you.”
Hinata turned her face away quickly, feeling the heat still lingering on her skin. “It’s nothing important.”
She could feel Sasuke’s gaze on her, assessing, as if trying to figure out what had pulled her so deeply into her thoughts.
The silence stretched between them, heavy yet not suffocating.
Then, Sasuke clicked his tongue in mild irritation and looked away.
He didn’t press.
And for once, Hinata was grateful.
Because how could she possibly explain what had just gone through her mind?
That for the past few weeks, another man had been slowly seeping into her thoughts, into her carefully constructed world.
That Kakashi had been making her feel things she wasn’t ready to admit, things she shouldn’t feel.
That every time he spoke to her in that low, lazy drawl, every time he let a teasing smirk curl behind his mask, every time his fingers brushed against hers, she felt something unravel inside of her.
And it terrified her.
Because this wasn’t some harmless infatuation.
This was dangerous .
Her thoughts of Kakashi were becoming too dangerous.
And yet, they were starting to feel impossible to stop.
She inhaled deeply, trying to focus, trying to recenter herself.
Maybe…maybe things with Sasuke could change.
If she just gave it a little more time.
Her fingers brushed absently over her sleeve as she turned back to the sky, watching the clouds shift.
“Do you like fireworks?”
Hinata turned to Sasuke, caught off guard by the sudden question.
“Yes,” she answered slowly. “Why?”
Sasuke exhaled, his eyes still fixed on the horizon. “Would you be interested in going to the festival next week?”
Hinata sat up slightly, looking at him with mild surprise.
She studied him carefully, searching his expression for any sign of obligation, of forced effort.
“Did Kakashi say something to you?” she asked, her voice soft, almost amused.
Sasuke’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, his eyes flickering to the side for a fraction of a second.
Hinata sighed, shaking her head. A small smile tugged at her lips despite herself. She could already see Kakashi’s smug expression in her mind, could already imagine the knowing glint in his eye as he meddled in her life yet again. He probably put a bug in Sasuke’s ear and knowing Sasuke took the bite just because he didn’t seem too fond of his old teacher anymore. But the thought of Kakashi trying to push him
She glanced at him. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” she murmured, tilting her head. “I was going to go to the festival either way.”
Sasuke sat up, elbows resting loosely on his knees, his expression unreadable in the fading light. His dark eyes were fixed on the distant rooftops of Konoha, his mind clearly elsewhere. The orange glow of the evening painted the sharp angles of his face in soft contrast, making him look less severe, less guarded—though she knew better than to assume he was anything but.
“I don’t want to go,” he admitted, voice flat, matter-of-fact. “I hate crowds.”
Hinata arched a brow, tilting her head slightly. “Then why—”
“…But,” he cut in, his voice quieter now, “if I don’t, I’ll probably regret it.”
Hinata blinked, thrown off by the weight of his words.
Regret?
It wasn’t like him to admit things like that, even indirectly. Sasuke didn’t waste time on things he didn’t deem necessary, didn’t force himself into situations he found meaningless. And yet, here he was, saying that not going to the festival with her would be something he might regret.
She watched him carefully, the way his fingers curled just slightly against his knee, the way his gaze flickered toward the horizon rather than at her.
But that wasn’t what had her hesitating.
It was the feeling—the instinct —that this wasn’t about the festival at all.
It was about something else.
Something unspoken.
And then, suddenly, she knew .
Sasuke might not have said it aloud, might not have even fully admitted it to himself—but she could feel it. Sense it.
If he didn’t go with her, someone else would.
Kakashi.
A pulse of realization spread through her chest, leaving her breath caught in her throat.
Sasuke hadn’t mentioned him, hadn’t even looked like he was thinking about him, but she could feel the undercurrent of possessiveness in his words, the way the sentence had slipped out, edged in something tight, something wary.
He knew Kakashi would be there.
And he knew , or at least strongly suspected, that something might happen between them if he wasn’t.
She exhaled slowly, fingers twisting slightly in the fabric of her sleeve, debating how she should respond.
She had been prepared to tell him she’d think about it, to push it off, to leave it open-ended.
But instead—
“…Okay,” she murmured.
Sasuke’s shoulders relaxed just slightly, though his face remained as neutral as ever. He nodded once, as if satisfied with that answer.
The silence stretched between them, neither of them moving, neither of them breaking the moment.
But then, something in her gnawed at the edges of her resolve, something fragile yet insistent.
Her voice was softer when she spoke again.
“What will you do if we run into Sakura-san?”
The change in Sasuke was subtle, but she caught it immediately.
The way his jaw tensed ever so slightly. The way his fingers curled just a fraction tighter against his knee.
The way his eyes flickered to the side, away from her, before he exhaled sharply through his nose.
“We’ll just run into her,” he said flatly. “Don’t think about it.”
Hinata frowned.
That wasn’t a real answer.
It was deflection.
Avoidance.
The same method of handling things he always fell back on— ignore it, and it won’t matter .
But she didn’t push.
Not tonight.
Because despite everything—despite the past, despite the weight of what still lingered between them—
For the first time in a long time, things felt… okay.
Not fixed.
Not perfect.
But okay.
And for now, that was enough.