Paper Rings & Broken Hearts

Ever since that evening on the rooftop, things between her and Sasuke had ebbed and flowed like the tide. There were moments when she caught glimpses of something softer in him, as though he were genuinely making an effort, but then, just as quickly, he would slip back into his old self, distant and unreadable. Yet, as if snapping out of some trance, he would try again.

It wasn’t as if they were suddenly friendly. But it was something.

And now, here they were, at the supermarket of all places.

Hinata usually went alone, or if she didn’t, she had Hanabi accompany her. Sometimes even Kurenai. But never Sasuke. He had never once shown interest in something as mundane as grocery shopping. So when he asked to come with her today, she had been confused, but she didn’t question it.

Their walk to the store had been mostly silent, neither of them feeling the need to fill the space with words. And now, as they stepped inside, Hinata glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He looked completely out of place.

Sasuke stood there stiffly, his gaze scanning the store, his hands tucked into his pockets like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. The faint crease between his brows deepened as she pulled out her shopping list and started scanning through it.

After a moment of watching him linger beside her, she sighed, deciding to put him to work.

She handed him the basket. “Can you find a few things on the list while I pick up some tea? We’re running low.”

Sasuke hesitated. His grip on the basket tightened slightly, his expression unreadable.

Then, as if reluctant to admit it, he muttered, “I don’t know where anything is.”

Hinata blinked up at him, surprised. “You’ve never gone grocery shopping before?”

Sasuke’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Of course, I have, but I usually only ate what was already made.” He exhaled sharply, as if already regretting telling her that much. “I only know where to buy miso paste.”

Hinata had to bite her lip to keep from smiling.

She had picked up on the fact that Sasuke didn’t like being teased over certain things. He took himself far too seriously for that, but it was difficult not to find amusement in this revelation.

Still, she held back, instead pointing to the aisle signs hanging from the ceiling. “That should help you,” she said, tilting her head toward them. “Think you can handle it on your own?”

Sasuke scoffed, his frown deepening. “I’m not a child.” He turned on his heel, irritation clear in the rigid way he moved. “I can handle it just fine.”

Hinata watched him go, shaking her head slightly before making her way toward the tea aisle. The air in the store was cool, the faint scent of fresh produce and spices lingering around her as she walked. She exhaled, her shoulders easing slightly now that she was alone. Her fingers trailed over the neatly stacked tea boxes, eyes scanning the labels absently.

But her mind wasn’t here. It drifted—pulled somewhere else, somewhere dangerous.

Somewhere silver-haired.

Hinata frowned, biting the inside of her cheek as guilt curled in her stomach. How dare she? How dare she be thinking about another man when she had been giving Sasuke such a hard time? It was contradicting, silly.

She was silly.

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus, her eyes flickering over the various teas. But her thoughts wouldn’t settle. No one knew what she was thinking. No one. She had never voiced it aloud, never let anything slip.

Sure, maybe she had blushed at things Kakashi said to her. Maybe she had stared a little longer than necessary at his face when he wasn’t wearing his mask. But who wouldn’t?

The man was handsome. Beautifully so. Hinata’s fingers curled slightly against the box she was holding.

She hadn’t seen much of Kakashi since that day. The day he had looked at her with something unreadable in his dark eyes, the day he had tilted her chin up with his fingers and spoken words that had embedded themselves in her skin like a brand.

"I wish you weren’t married."

Hinata swallowed hard, pressing her lips together as she tried not to think about the way his voice had dipped, the way his fingers had lingered just a moment too long. He had looked as if he had wanted to say more. But he had stopped himself.

She exhaled shakily, tearing her gaze away from the shelves. She needed to stop thinking about it.

Sasuke was fond of green tea and black tea, she had noticed. So she grabbed loose-leaf varieties of both, along with lavender and vanilla tea.

Arms full, she made her way back out of the aisle, intending to check on Sasuke’s progress. Her feet moved lightly over the tile floors as she walked down each aisle, searching. She found him. Standing in the aisle with the rice. But he wasn’t alone.

Sakura was there.

Hinata stopped abruptly, her breath catching in her throat. Without thinking, she ducked behind one of the shelves at the end of the aisle, moving closer to where Sasuke and Sakura stood.

She masked her chakra, hoping neither of them would sense her.

“…I miss you.”

Sakura’s voice was soft, hesitant, laced with something fragile. The words hung between them like an unspoken confession, and Hinata felt something cold settle in her stomach.

Her fingers tightened around the tea boxes in her arms as she carefully peered around the corner.

She couldn’t see Sasuke’s face, not without revealing herself, but she wanted to. Needed to.

How was he going to respond?

For a moment, there was silence.

“Sakura,” Sasuke exhaled, his voice low in a warning.

Hinata couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but something about his tone felt different. Not cold, but not warm either.

Sakura let out a soft, breathy chuckle as if trying to ease the tension. “I know, I know…I shouldn’t say things like that,” she murmured, voice lighter, but still tinged with something sad. “But I do.” A pause. “I do miss you, Sasuke.”

Hinata held her breath, her heartbeat thudding heavily in her ears.

This time, Sasuke’s answer came slower. More careful. “…You know that things aren’t the same.”

Sakura was quiet for a moment. “I know,” she admitted. “But I can’t just…turn it off.”

Sasuke exhaled through his nose, and for a brief moment, Hinata thought—hoped—he would shut this conversation down. That he would put distance between them.

But then he said, “…Neither can I.”

Hinata’s chest tightened.

Sakura’s voice was softer now, barely above a whisper. “Then what are we doing?”

Another pause.

Sasuke sighed. “Trying to be better than what we want.”

Hinata swallowed, something bitter forming in the back of her throat.

The weight of those words…trying to be better than what we want…

So, was that it?

He still wanted her?

Hinata clenched her fist, unable to listen anymore, unable to stand there and hear this.

She should walk away. Should pretend she never heard any of it.

But before she could turn, she heard Sakura ask, “How are things with you and Hinata?”

Sasuke was quiet for a long moment before finally answering, “…It’s going.”

A frown pulled at Hinata’s lips. That was all he had to say? 

It’s going?

Sakura hesitated. “Are you going to the festival tomorrow?”

Sasuke exhaled, almost as if he had expected that question. “Yeah.”

Sakura’s voice lifted slightly. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

There was hope in her voice.

Hinata clenched her fist, an odd, tangled mix of emotions rising inside he, annoyance, bitterness, something else. But then, Sasuke’s next words made her pause.

“You’ll see both of us there.”

Hinata’s eyes widened slightly.

Both of them.

She took another careful peek around the corner, catching the flicker of surprise in Sakura’s expression. It surprised her too. But then, her gaze shifted to Sasuke. And her stomach dropped. His face was unreadable, but there was something there, something pained.

Was he still holding onto those feelings for her? Hinata pulled back, her thoughts a mess. She didn’t know what she should do. Should she reveal herself? Interrupt? Or should she just leave? Before she could decide, she turned away—Only to stop dead in her tracks when she heard his voice.

“Hinata.”

Her blood ran cold. Slowly, she turned. Sasuke was walking toward her, the shopping basket in his hand. Sakura was nowhere in sight.

Hinata’s grip on the tea boxes tightened as he stopped beside her, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. His dark eyes locked onto hers, unreadable, searching.

Her gaze flickered to the basket. He had the rice. A few other things. He hadn’t done so bad after all.

His voice broke the silence.

“How much did you hear?”

Hinata stiffened.

Startled, she turned away, refusing to meet his gaze. “What are you talking about?” She started walking.

Sasuke followed. “Lying isn’t a good look for you.”

Heat crawled up her neck in embarrassment. She kept her eyes forward, her voice quieter. “I heard enough.”

Silence stretched between them. They finished shopping in awkward, forced quiet.

And as they left the store, Sasuke carried the bags.

Then, after a long pause, he spoke.

“I miss her.” His voice was quiet. “If I’m being honest.”

Hinata didn’t respond.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

Sasuke had said it so plainly—I miss her.

It was honest. Unapologetic. And yet, something about hearing it so bluntly made her stomach twist in a way she didn’t understand.

She kept her gaze forward, fingers tightening around the tea boxes she carried as they walked toward the checkout line. The store was still softly buzzing with activity, other shoppers moving past them, the scent of fresh produce and warm bread lingering in the air.

Sasuke walked beside her, carrying the basket with one hand, his posture relaxed in that indifferent way he always carried himself. But she knew better, she had seen the way his jaw had tensed ever so slightly after saying those words, the way his fingers curled subtly around the basket handle.

He had felt something saying it.

Whether it was guilt, frustration, or something else entirely, she didn’t know.

They reached the checkout counter, and Hinata busied herself placing the items on the conveyor belt, her movements precise, careful. Anything to keep her mind from circling back to thoughts she didn’t have the energy to untangle.

Sasuke stood beside her, silent as ever, his dark eyes focused ahead, giving nothing away.

It wasn’t until the cashier began scanning the items that she finally forced herself to speak.

“What do you miss about her?”

The question left her lips before she had fully processed it.

Sasuke’s gaze flickered toward her, brief but sharp, as if surprised she had asked. But he didn’t answer right away.

The soft beep of each item being scanned filled the silence.

Then, after a long moment, he exhaled. “I don’t know.”

Hinata turned slightly, watching him. His face was unreadable, but there was something thoughtful behind his expression, something contemplative.

“I guess…” he started, his voice low, measured. “I miss how things used to be. Before.”

Hinata swallowed, her grip on the counter tightening slightly.

He wasn’t just talking about Sakura.

He was talking about everything.

His life before the war. Before he left Konoha. Before he became a husband to someone who wasn’t the woman he had once seen a future with.

She nodded slowly, trying to make sense of her own feelings.

It wasn’t as if she had ever wanted Sasuke to erase his past. She wasn’t foolish enough to expect him to forget his feelings for Sakura overnight or at all. She had known what this marriage was from the start.

So why did hearing him say he missed her make her feel…

Tired?

She didn’t blame him for missing her. It wasn’t like she had been the most welcoming wife either.

And yet—

I miss her.

Those words lingered, pressing against something fragile inside of her.

Before she could respond, the cashier finished bagging their items. Sasuke handed over the money wordlessly, taking the bags without hesitation.

They walked out of the store in silence.

Sasuke adjusted the bags in his hands before glancing at her. “Are you going to say anything?”

Hinata hesitated. What was there to say? She didn’t want to tell him it was fine, because it wasn’t. She didn’t want to tell him she understood, because even though she did, it still felt like a sharp needle pressing into her ribs. So instead, she settled for the truth.

“I don’t know how I feel about it,” she admitted.

Sasuke didn’t respond right away. He just stared at her for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable under the soft glow of the streetlights. Sasuke nodded, acknowledging her words without much reaction, as he always did.

They walked in silence for a few more steps, the late morning sun casting a soft golden glow over the bustling streets of Konoha. Vendors called out their daily specials, villagers weaved past one another, and the faint scent of freshly baked bread lingered in the air. It was the kind of day that should have felt normal.

But the weight of their conversation still clung between them, unshaken.

“What about Naruto?”

Hinata turned her head toward him, brows furrowing slightly. “What about him?”

Sasuke didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed forward as they maneuvered through the market streets. His voice was calm, even, almost as if the question was nothing more than passing curiosity.

“Do you ever think about him?” he asked. “After the two of you broke up.”

Hinata felt her fingers tighten slightly around the tea boxes she was holding. Of course, he would bring it up now. She supposed it was only fair. After all, she had asked about Sakura. But hearing Naruto’s name said so plainly, said like that, made something uncomfortable settle in her chest. She inhaled slowly, steadying herself before answering.

“…Yes,” she admitted, voice soft but firm. “I did.”

Sasuke remained quiet, waiting. Hinata shifted her gaze forward, watching the way the morning light flickered through the gaps in the rooftops, warming the cool air.

“In the beginning, I thought about him a lot,” she continued. “I kept wondering if things would have been different if I had just—” She hesitated. “If I had just fought harder for us. If I had tried to stop the arrangement. If I had been more selfish.”

Sasuke didn’t react.

But that was fine—she wasn’t saying it for him.

She was saying it for herself.

“I spent a long time replaying everything in my mind,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “Thinking about all the times he had made me laugh, all the moments we spent together, all the things I thought we were supposed to have.”

A soft breeze brushed against her skin, carrying the scent of early blooming flowers.

“But eventually…I stopped thinking what if,” she murmured. “Because I realized that Naruto belongs to everyone before he belongs to anyone. He’s always been that way. He gives all of himself to the world, and no matter how much I loved him, I don’t think I ever would have had all of him.”

Sasuke’s expression remained unreadable, but she could feel him listening. It had taken her months to come to terms with it, but once she had, everything had felt clearer.

“I guess,” she exhaled, “I just stopped thinking of him as someone who was meant to be mine.”

She glanced at Sasuke, her pale eyes searching his face.

“I still care about him,” she admitted. “But…I let go of that kind of love a long time ago.”

Sasuke turned his head toward her. His dark gaze met hers, steady and unreadable. Hinata held Sasuke’s gaze for a moment longer, the weight of their conversation still lingering between them like an unspoken truth. She had expected the conversation to end there, to let the quiet settle again as they continued their walk home. But then, his expression shifted, his dark eyes sharpening, his voice turning more stern.

“What about Kakashi?”

Hinata frowned, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “What?”

Sasuke’s stare was unwavering. “You always say he’s your friend.”

She blinked before exhaling softly, already knowing where this was heading. “Because he is my friend.”

Sasuke scoffed under his breath. “I’m aware.” His grip on the shopping bags tightened slightly. “But I’m not asking about you. I’m asking about him.”

Hinata hesitated, her frown deepening, confused. 

“What does Kakashi feel?”

She let out a quiet breath, feeling a flicker of irritation at the implication behind his words. “That’s something you should ask him.” She glanced at him briefly, her expression neutral. “As far as I know, I’m just his friend as well.” Though, a part of her knew that was a lie, but she wasn’t one hundred percent, since it wasn’t confirmed. But she even thinking that sounded silly. She knew it.

Sasuke made a noise in the back of his throat, something between disbelief and mild frustration. “I highly doubt that.”

Hinata kept walking, her grip tightening around the tea boxes.

“He’s fifteen years older than you, Hinata,” Sasuke stated flatly. “Doesn’t that seem weird to you?”

Hinata’s steps faltered for only a second before she kept moving, her expression remaining carefully neutral.

Sasuke glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “You think a man that old just sees you as a friend?”

Hinata swallowed. She had never really thought about it like that. She knew there was an age gap, but Kakashi had never made her feel uncomfortable. Never made her feel like it was something…inappropriate. Not once.

Sasuke pressed on, his voice calmer now but no less firm. “That’s what bothers me,” he admitted. “I don’t think he just sees you as a friend. And that’s exactly why I don’t trust him.”

Hinata kept her gaze ahead, unwilling to stop and have this discussion in the middle of the road. Instead, she exhaled through her nose and asked, “Do you love me?”

Sasuke didn’t hesitate. “No.”

His answer was immediate. Direct. Hinata wasn’t surprised.

But still—it stung.

She let the silence settle for a moment before speaking again. “Then why do you act like you’re jealous whenever it comes to Kakashi?” Her voice was quiet but pointed. “If you don’t love me, if you don’t care about me, then why does it bother you?”

Sasuke exhaled sharply, shifting the bags in his grip. “Because even if I don’t love you, I do care about your wellbeing,” he stated, his tone pragmatic, as if he were stating a fact rather than an emotion. Then, with an exasperated huff, he added, “Even if you annoy the hell out of me sometimes.”

Hinata stopped walking. Her wide pale eyes blinked up at him, caught between shock and disbelief.

Sasuke groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Listen,” he muttered. “Kakashi’s an old man. And I’m worried you’re being taken advantage of.” His voice was steady, but there was something hard beneath it. “You’re my wife—” he emphasized, his gaze darkening slightly, “—not Kakashi’s woman.”

Hinata’s lips parted, stunned by the possessiveness in his tone. But before she could respond, Sasuke continued, his frustration growing.

“You don’t know the things he says to me when you’re not around.”

Hinata frowned, her breath catching slightly. “What do you mean?”

Sasuke clenched his jaw. “Kakashi’s concerned about you,” he said, almost mockingly. “Because in his eyes, I’m just some bastard who’s always treating you like shit.” His voice was bitter but honest. “And I get it. I’m not the kindest person. I know this situation hasn’t been easy for either of us, and it still bothers me. But I’m trying.” His fingers flexed at his sides. “And I know he just wants what’s best for you.” He scoffed lightly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just like everyone else in this fucking village.”

Sasuke shook his head, his voice lowering slightly. “I don’t trust him around you,” he admitted. “And it bothers me that you light up whenever you see him.”

Hinata inhaled sharply, his words striking her with a force she hadn’t expected. She didn’t know what to say. So she said nothing, choosing instead to replay his words in her mind as they walked back to their home in silence. By the time they stepped through the front door, the weight of their conversation still clung between them, thick and suffocating. Hinata set the tea boxes down on the kitchen counter, turning to face him, as he sat the bags on the table.

She exhaled quietly before speaking. “You say all of this about Kakashi,” she said carefully, her tone unreadable. “But you emotionally cheated on me with Sakura-san for months.”

Sasuke stilled. His hands tightened around the shopping bags, his jaw clenching slightly.

“I know,” he admitted, tightly. 

“But that doesn’t erase what you did,” she pointed out, her tone firm. “You shared a bed with her, Sasuke.”

He inhaled slowly through his nose. “I already told you—I didn’t sleep with her!”

Hinata’s frustration swelled. “But you were in her bed,” she shot back. “And yet you have the nerve to lecture me about Kakashi?”

Sasuke’s fingers curled into fists. “That’s not the same.”

Hinata let out a sharp breath. “How is it not?”

Sasuke’s expression hardened. “Because you’re my wife,” he said, his voice cutting. “And he is not supposed to look at you like that!”

Hinata stiffened, caught off guard by the sheer weight behind his words. His jaw was tight, his eyes burning with something between frustration and something else, something darker.

But then, he inhaled sharply, his fingers curling at his sides.

“And you think I don’t know that what I did with Sakura was wrong?” he continued, his voice lowering, becoming something raw, something that sounded dangerously close to vulnerable. “You think I don’t know how fucking hypocritical this all sounds?”

Hinata didn’t speak. Because she knew he wasn’t done.

His hands flexed, tightening and loosening as if he was trying to keep himself controlled. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to kiss her,” he admitted, voice rough. “How many times I wanted to do more than that but I didn’t.”

Hinata felt something cold settle in her stomach.

“I didn’t,” Sasuke repeated like he was trying to convince himself just as much as her. “Because of you.”

Something about the way he said it, like she was some invisible force keeping him shackled, keeping him from what he actually wanted, made her want to hit him.

Her lips pressed together as something sharp bubbled inside of her. “But it wasn’t good enough,” she said, voice shaking, not with sadness, but with anger.

Sasuke’s brows furrowed.

“You still went to see her,” she continued, stepping closer, staring up at him. “You still stayed with her. You still slept in her bed.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth. “You defended her, glared at me like I was the bad guy every time I even looked at her.”

Sasuke’s breath came out hard through his nose, his shoulders rising and falling.

Hinata exhaled shakily, her hands curling into fists. “If you want to get mad at Kakashi, then you should take a look in the mirror first.”

Sasuke let out a bitter laugh, sharp and humorless. “You think I don’t?” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “You think I don’t feel guilty every fucking day?” His voice rose slightly, his fingers twitching at his sides. “Everyone and their mother wants to remind me about my marriage to you.”

Sasuke let out another sharp breath, his hands flexing like he wanted to hit something.

“I am sorry for treating you like shit in the beginning,” he admitted, voice lower now, but still burning. “I am.” His jaw clenched. “And I know it was wrong. Maybe I should have gotten to know you better. Maybe I should have tried to care sooner.” His eyes flickered with something unreadable, something frustrated. “But I didn’t. Because I didn’t care to.”

Hinata flinched. Even though she had always known it, hearing it aloud made it feel heavier.

Sasuke exhaled through his nose, looking off to the side, like he couldn’t bear to look at her. “And I’ve been trying to force myself to care lately,” he admitted, almost like it was painful to say.

Hinata swallowed down the lump in her throat.

Then, his next words hit her like a storm.

“A few days ago, I almost left to see Sakura.”  Sasuke didn’t stop. He kept going, kept hammering every nail into the coffin. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about her,” he confessed, voice hard, unwavering. “But I didn’t.”

His fingers curled into fists. “Because I wanted to keep trying.”

Silence filled the space between them, suffocating. Hinata’s breathing was steady, but inside, everything was burning.

Sasuke stared at her, his lips pressed into a tight line. “But right now,” he muttered, “I’m starting to feel the opposite.”

That—that—was the moment something inside of her snapped. She took a step closer, her voice lower, sharper. “Then go.”

Sasuke’s jaw ticked, his fists trembling slightly.

“Go run back to her, then,” she hissed, her chest rising and falling. “Since I make this so unbearable for you.”

Sasuke let out a sharp breath, like he was trying to hold himself back.

And then—

CRACK.

His fist slammed into the wall beside him, rattling the wooden frame. Hinata flinched, but didn’t step away. Her heart pounded in her chest, the weight of the argument pressing down on her from every angle. The weight of the argument pressed down on her chest, suffocating, heavy, unbearable.

Sasuke’s fist remained against the wall, knuckles white from the force of impact, his breathing sharp and uneven. Hinata stood frozen, her hands clenched at her sides, fighting to steady her breath, fighting against the burn in her throat, the sting behind her eyes.

“If you think Kakashi doesn’t see you as more than a friend, then you’re blind,” Sasuke spat, his voice sharp as a blade. His glare bore into her, dark and burning. “And if you don’t think that matters, then you’re a fucking idiot.”

Hinata sucked in a breath, her jaw tightening, but before she could even formulate a response, he continued, voice raw with frustration.

“You don’t see it, do you?” he demanded, stepping toward her. His presence loomed, heavy with frustration. “The way he looks at you. The way he talks to you. The way he treats you like you’re his and not mine.” His lips curled in frustration, his eyes dark. “And you let him.”

Hinata took a shaky breath, her fists trembling at her sides. “That’s not true!”

Sasuke let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Then you’re either the most naive person in this damn village or you’re lying to yourself.”

Hinata swallowed hard, gripping onto the last remnants of her resolve. “You have no right to be mad about this,” she shot back, her voice cracking slightly. “You were in bed with another woman for months—”

“I KNOW!” Sasuke shouted, voice thunderous, frustration pouring out of him. “I fucking know!”

His sudden outburst sent a shock through her, rattling something deep in her chest.

“You think I don’t know how wrong it was?” he continued, voice still sharp but lower now, more measured, more controlled, though barely. “You think I don’t feel like shit every time I think about it? Every time I think about how I let her pull me back in, even when I knew I shouldn’t?”

Hinata sucked in a breath, her fingers trembling.

“But let me ask you something,” Sasuke muttered, stepping closer, voice low and biting. “Have I gone back to her since I’ve been back home?”

Hinata flinched but didn’t answer.

“Have I?” Sasuke pressed.

“No,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s right,” he snapped. “Because no matter how much I wanted to, no matter how many times I almost did—I didn’t.” His voice was rough, raw with something like regret. “Because I knew I couldn’t keep doing this. That no matter how much I still care about her—” he stopped, his breath coming out sharp, “—I can’t.”

He was saying it aloud.

Admitting it.

That he still cared about Sakura.

Even though he shouldn’t.

Even though it hurt to say.

Even though it hurt to hear.

“You think I don’t understand how fucked up this is?” Sasuke exhaled bitterly, raking a hand through his hair. “You think I like feeling this way? Like I’m constantly trying to bury something I shouldn’t even be feeling?” His jaw clenched, his breath ragged. “You think I want to be in this goddamn marriage, knowing I still—”

He cut himself off, pressing his lips together so tightly they turned white.

But the words had already been laid out between them.

And it didn’t matter that he didn’t finish.

She knew what he had been about to say.

She knew.

Hinata took a slow, uneven breath, her hands trembling at her sides. “You felt fine all week,” she murmured, voice shaking, “because you hadn’t seen her until today…”

Sasuke’s jaw tightened, his muscles tensing—

But he didn’t deny it.

He let out a sharp exhale, dragging a frustrated hand through his hair. “Yes,” he admitted, voice harsh and unapologetic. “You want me to deny it? Fine—I won’t.” His dark eyes bore into hers. “You want to know the truth, Hinata?” He exhaled roughly. “I fucking miss her every single day.”

Hinata felt her breath hitch, her throat closing up.

“But that doesn’t fucking matter, does it?” Sasuke snapped, his voice growing louder, more frayed. “Because I’m here, with you. Trying. Fucking trying.” His eyes darkened, frustration bubbling over. “And I know it’s not enough. I know I’ve screwed this up. I know you don’t trust me. And maybe you never will.”

Hinata clenched her jaw, tears welling in her eyes despite her efforts to keep them at bay. Sasuke inhaled sharply, staring at her, then let out a short, bitter laugh when he noticed the way her eyes glistened. His expression twisted, anger flashing across his features.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath. “Another woman crying because of me.”

Hinata turned her face away, biting her lip, trying to breathe through the burning in her throat. Sasuke exhaled harshly, his fists trembling at his sides. Sasuke’s breathing was ragged, his head tilting downward, dark strands of hair falling over his eyes.

And then, slowly, he lifted his gaze back to her.

“When I saw you standing there with him the other day,” he muttered, voice dangerously low, “you smiled.” His jaw tightened. “You smiled in a way you never have around me.”

His eyes were unreadable—cold, sharp, and something else.

Something hurt.

Sasuke let out a sharp exhale, raking a hand through his hair, his expression twisted in frustration. “I can’t fucking win,” he muttered, almost to himself. “No matter what I do, I’m the villain in someone’s story.”

Without another word, Sasuke turned on his heel. The door slammed behind him, so hard that the walls trembled, the windows rattling from the sheer force.

Hinata stood there, frozen. The only sound left was the soft, uneven rhythm of her own breath.

And then—slowly, quietly—her tears began to fall.

x-x-x-x

Sasuke stormed through the village roads, his fury radiating off him in thick, suffocating waves. The people of Konoha, always so attuned to the emotions of their shinobi, instinctively moved out of his path, their conversations quieting, their eyes carefully avoiding him.

Good.

He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone.

His strides were quick, purposeful, fueled by an anger so sharp it burned under his skin. His hands curled into fists at his sides, knuckles aching from how tightly he had been clenching them since leaving the house.

His mind replayed the argument with Hinata over and over again, like a broken record he couldn’t stop.

Kakashi.

The name alone made his jaw clench so tightly it felt like his teeth would crack.

Sasuke knew he had no right to feel this way. Knew he had spent months tangled in his own bullshit with Sakura. Knew that, realistically, Hinata had every right to find comfort in someone else.

But knowing that and accepting it were two different things.

He had seen the way Hinata looked at Kakashi. Had seen the way her face would brighten, the way her body would relax in his presence.

She didn’t look at him like that.

Not once.

Sasuke’s lips pressed into a thin line, fury roiling inside of him like a wildfire.

What pissed him off the most, though?

That she refused to see it.

She acted as if Kakashi was just a mere friend, as if he wasn’t a full-grown man who clearly saw her as more than just a friend.

And she let it happen.

The thought made something bitter churn in his stomach, and before he could even think about it further, he found himself in front of Naruto’s office.

He didn’t stop to knock.

Didn’t stop to think.

He was too angry to care.

Shikamaru barely had time to step in front of the door before Sasuke reached for it, his sharp eyes narrowing as the man lifted a hand, blocking his path.

“Whoa, whoa—Naruto’s in a meeting,” Shikamaru drawled, eyeing Sasuke with mild irritation. “You can’t just barge in there.”

“I need a mission,” Sasuke snapped.

Shikamaru sighed, clearly already done with this conversation. “Yeah, well, you can wait. He’s in the middle of something important—”

Sasuke ignored him and shoved past, throwing the door open.

The conversation inside halted abruptly.

A room full of sharply dressed men and one woman all turned to face him, their expressions shifting from mild confusion to outright surprise.

At the center of it all, sitting at his desk, was Naruto.

His blue eyes widened slightly before he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his head.

“Ah—everyone, this is Sasuke,” he said awkwardly, motioning toward him with an exasperated look. “My, uh…trusted advisor.”

Sasuke ignored him, his gaze sharp. “I need a mission.”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Naruto stared at him for a long moment before clearing his throat. “Sasuke, now’s really not the time.” His tone was pointed, his voice just shy of irritated. “I’m in the middle of negotiations with investors—people who are willing to fund major projects for Konoha’s expansion, including the new medical facilities and the academy reforms.”

Sasuke’s expression didn’t change.

He didn’t care.

“Wait outside,” Naruto said, this time firmer.

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed. “It can’t wait.”

Naruto’s stare hardened, and in that moment, he wasn’t just the idiot he had grown up with. He was Hokage.

“Yes, it can,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Sasuke ground his teeth, his anger growing by the second, but he knew that look.

If he kept pushing, it would only piss Naruto off more.

So, with a sharp exhale, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, slamming the door so hard behind him that the walls shook. He leaned against the wall just outside, arms crossed, his foot tapping against the wooden floor in barely restrained frustration.

The door to the office hadn’t even fully settled before Shikamaru let out a low whistle.

“Well, someone’s got their panties in a bunch,” he mused.

Sasuke turned his glare on him so fast, Shikamaru actually blinked.

“Say that again,” Sasuke growled, his tone dangerously low.

Shikamaru simply raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “Alright, alright. Yeesh.” He let out a slow exhale, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “What the hell’s got you all pissed off this time?”

Sasuke’s scowl deepened. “None of your business.”

Shikamaru studied him for a moment before sighing, shaking his head. “You know, you’re lucky Naruto gives a damn about you,” he muttered.

Sasuke scoffed. “You couldn’t do anything to me even if he didn’t. Piss off.”

Shikamaru’s gaze sharpened slightly. “You’re really not in the mood to be civil today, huh?”

Sasuke just shot him a pointed glare.

Shikamaru opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, a sudden voice cut through the tension.

“There you are, Shikamaru-kun!”

A blur of glasses and blonde hair moved into view as Shiho grabbed Shikamaru’s sleeve and promptly started dragging him down the hallway.

“Hey! What the hell—?” Shikamaru protested, trying to dig his heels into the floor, but Shiho was surprisingly strong. “I wasn’t done here!”

“You are now!” Shiho huffed, determination clear in her tone.

Sasuke watched with mild satisfaction as Shikamaru was hauled away, his protests fading into the distance.

Finally.

Peace.

Or at least, as much peace as he could get with the inferno of rage still burning inside of him.

Sasuke exhaled slowly, eyes darkening as his thoughts circled back to her.

Hinata.

Kakashi.

His teeth clenched.

He could burn the entire fucking world right now.

Sasuke exhaled sharply, his frustration simmering beneath his skin like a slow-burning fire. It wasn’t just one thing that was pissing him off. It was all of it.

It was the way Kakashi always had some smooth, teasing remark ready for her. It was the way Kakashi never backed down, never treated her with cold indifference the way Sasuke once had, the way he made sure she knew he saw her.

Sasuke knew that was part of the reason she felt so comfortable with him. Because he had left a void, and Kakashi had filled it.

And yet, even knowing that, he couldn’t fucking stand it.

Because the truth was, it wasn’t just Hinata who had changed around Kakashi, it was Kakashi, too.

Sasuke wasn’t an idiot. He had seen it. The subtle shifts in his former teacher’s demeanor whenever Hinata was around. The way his usually lazy, indifferent posture would straighten ever so slightly, the way his eyes always watched her, studied her, softened just a fraction in a way Sasuke had never seen before.

And the way he spoke about her when she wasn’t there?

That was the part that pissed Sasuke off the most.

The way Kakashi always had something to say. The way he questioned him about their marriage, about whether Sasuke was treating her right, about whether he even deserved her.

Sasuke gritted his teeth, his nails digging into the fabric of his sleeves.

Kakashi thought he was the problem.

He thought Sasuke was the one pushing her away.

And maybe at one point, that had been true.

But now?

Now, he was the one who couldn’t get close, because Kakashi was already there, slipping into the space between them like it belonged to him.

And the worst fucking part?

Hinata didn’t even see it.

She looked at Kakashi and saw a friend, someone who had been kind to her when Sasuke hadn’t.

She didn’t see the way Kakashi looked at her.

Didn’t hear the underlying meaning in the things he said.

Didn’t notice how fucking comfortable he was around her, how easily he touched her, how familiar it all was.

And that was what enraged Sasuke the most.

Not just Kakashi’s obvious feelings.

Not just Hinata’s obliviousness.

But the fact that it was happening right in front of him, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

He needed out.

Out of this village. Out of this situation. Out of this marriage.

Because the more he stayed, the more he tried—

The more he felt like he was going to fucking lose it.

Sasuke exhaled sharply, pushing off the wall, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides.

Fuck the festival.

He didn’t care.

Not about the stupid fireworks, not about whatever forced attempt at playing the dutiful husband he had planned to make, and sure as hell not about Hinata’s expectations.

Kakashi could take her for all he cared.

Let him be the one standing beside her under the glow of lanterns. Let him be the one she smiled at, the one she laughed with, the one she looked at like he hung the damn moon in the sky.

It didn’t matter.

None of it fucking mattered.

He was done.

Done pretending.

Done trying.

Because what was the point?

He had spent the last few days forcing himself into a role that didn’t fit, playing a part that was never meant for him. He had been trying, really trying, to be better, to bridge the gap between them, to push away the remnants of everything that still lingered in the back of his mind.

But it wasn’t enough.

It was never going to be enough.

Because he wasn’t meant to be here.

Not with her.

Not in this fucking village.

And right now, the only thing he wanted was to get as far away from it all as possible.

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and the sound of footsteps filled the hallway as the investors shuffled out, their hushed voices murmuring amongst themselves. The group of sharply dressed men walked stiffly, trying their best not to make eye contact with the fuming Uchiha leaning against the wall.

Sasuke barely spared them a glance, his fingers twitching at his sides, his body thrumming with pent-up frustration. But it was enough.

The moment his gaze flickered toward them, the lone woman in the group let out a startled yelp, her hands clutching at the fabric of her sleeve. The rest of them stiffened, exchanging uneasy looks before they hurried their pace, exiting the building as quickly as they could without outright running.

Cowards.

Sasuke didn’t give a damn about them.

Without hesitation, he pushed off the wall and stormed back into the office.

The door slammed against the frame with a loud bang as he entered, his steps heavy, his presence radiating tension.

Naruto, still seated behind his desk, exhaled sharply, already rubbing his temples before even looking up.

“Sasuke.” His tone was edged with exasperation. “Your Sharingan is activated.” He lifted his gaze, his blue eyes locking onto him with something between exhaustion and irritation. “Calm the hell down.”

Sasuke inhaled sharply, then let out a slow, shaky breath through his nose, forcing his shoulders to relax. The crimson glow in his eyes flickered before fading.

Naruto sighed, setting his papers down. “Alright, what’s wrong?” He leaned back in his chair, giving Sasuke a hard look. “And if this has anything to do with Hinata, so help me—I am not going to hold back.”

Sasuke scoffed, rolling his shoulders. “Then don’t hold back.” His voice was sharp, his body still thrumming with tension. “Because I swear to god, if you want to fight me, then come at me.”

Naruto narrowed his eyes, his hands pressing into his desk. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Then stop talking,” Sasuke snapped.

Naruto sighed again, but this time, it wasn’t exhausted—it was annoyed.

“What the hell happened?”

Sasuke didn’t answer.

Didn’t want to answer.

Because the last thing he wanted was Naruto knowing about Kakashi.

The idiot probably had no clue. He was stuffed in this office all day, dealing with meetings and paperwork, and he wasn’t exactly the best at picking up on things that weren’t directly in front of his face.

No.

Naruto didn’t need to know.

So instead, Sasuke exhaled sharply, his voice clipped. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I just need a mission. Something long.”

Naruto’s expression hardened. “No.”

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t ask for permission.”

“And I don’t care,” Naruto shot back, his voice firm. “Figure something else out. You are not leaving every time you get pissed off.”

Sasuke’s fingers curled against his arms, his frustration reaching its breaking point. “Naruto, I’m going to explode if I don’t release this anger.”

Naruto studied him for a long moment before shaking his head. His voice was quieter when he spoke, but no less serious.

“You think you’re the only one who has ever felt this way?” he said, his eyes sharp. “You think you’re the only one who has ever felt like they were backed into a corner, like they didn’t know what the hell to do?”

Sasuke clenched his jaw, his breath slow and uneven.

“I get it,” Naruto continued, his voice even, steady. “I do. But running away from shit you don’t want to deal with doesn’t solve a damn thing. You can go on a mission, disappear for weeks or months, but the second you come back, nothing will have changed. You’ll still be angry. You’ll still be in the same mess you left behind. And all you’ll have done is wasted time.”

Sasuke knew Naruto was right.

But he was too fucking angry to care.

He exhaled harshly through his nose, his muscles tensing, his frustration reaching a dangerous level.

Naruto’s voice remained steady, unfazed. “So what’s it gonna be?” He leaned forward slightly. “Are you gonna deal with your shit, or are you gonna throw another tantrum?”

Sasuke’s teeth ground together, his fingers twitching at his sides.

“What was a waste of time was coming here,” he muttered, his voice low, dripping with irritation.

He turned on his heel, ready to leave, ready to push all of this aside and figure out his next move on his own. But before he could step out of the room—

“Sasuke.”

Naruto’s voice was firm, and despite himself, Sasuke stopped. His shoulders squared up instinctively.

“…This has to do with Hinata, doesn’t it?”

Sasuke’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. He exhaled sharply through his nose before answering.

“…It does.”

Naruto didn’t respond right away, waiting, as if expecting him to continue.

But that was as much as Sasuke was going to say. He turned his head slightly, barely sparing Naruto a glance. “If you’re not going to let me leave, I’ll find something else to do.”

Naruto let out a slow breath, his fingers tapping against the surface of his desk. “I’ve seen you upset before,” he admitted, “but never this upset.”

Sasuke’s lips pressed into a thin line. Then, before he could stop himself, before he could shove it back down—

“It’s because I’m pissed,” he snapped.

Naruto blinked, taken aback by the sharpness in his voice.

Something in Sasuke cracked then, the frustration bubbling over, spilling into words before he could even think to stop them.

“I’ve been trying,” he bit out, his breath coming hard and uneven. “I have been trying to make this work. I have been forcing myself to give a damn, to do everything right, to be what everyone keeps telling me I need to be.” His voice was rising, edged with something dangerously close to exhaustion. “And today just—” He exhaled roughly, dragging a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling from the sheer effort of keeping himself together. “Today just pushed me over the fucking edge.”

Naruto’s expression shifted, the irritation in his features melting into something else—something serious.

“Sasuke,” he said quietly, concern laced in his voice.

Sasuke clicked his tongue, shaking his head sharply, already regretting saying anything.

He didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to hear Naruto’s input, didn’t want to hear him tell him to calm down or look at it another way. He just wanted out. Without another word, he turned and strode toward the door, his footsteps heavy, fueled by something volatile.

He needed to hit something.

Anything.

He’d just train alone, exhaust himself until he couldn’t think straight anymore—

But so help him, if he saw Kakashi—

He was going to fucking lose it.

x-x-x-x

Hinata sat hunched over on the small wooden bench inside Tenten’s weapon shop, her shoulders trembling as silent tears streaked down her cheeks.

Tenten’s warm hand rubbed gentle circles against her back, her touch firm yet soothing.

“It’s okay, Hinata,” Tenten murmured softly, her voice filled with quiet reassurance. “Let it out.”

Hinata clenched her jaw, her fingers curling into the fabric of her skirt as she tried to steady herself, but the weight of everything, the argument, Sasuke’s words, the sheer exhaustion of it all, was too much. The moment she had stepped inside the shop, one look at Tenten had been all it took for her composure to shatter.

And now here she was, crying like a child, while Tenten sat beside her, offering comfort in the way an older sister would.

Because that’s what Tenten was to her now, an older sister, a protector, someone who had taken on a role that had once belonged to Neji.

And on the other side of Tenten, sitting cross-legged on the floor, was Lee.

His expression was a mix of concern and barely restrained frustration as he listened to everything she had told them.

She hadn’t mentioned everything. Some things felt too complicated, too personal, but she had told them enough. About the fight. About how Sasuke had left, slamming the door so hard it rattled the windows. About how she had been trying, and how he had been trying, too, but…

Something wasn’t working.

Lee had been uncharacteristically quiet as she spoke, but now, as she wiped at her damp cheeks, she felt his presence shift.

His fist slammed against his palm, making both her and Tenten jump slightly.

“This is unacceptable!” Lee declared, his voice filled with passionate conviction. “No man should treat a lady this way! Especially not his own wife!”

Hinata flinched slightly, guilt curling in her stomach. “L-Lee-kun…”

“I do not care that he has been ‘trying,’” Lee continued, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His usually kind eyes were dark with disappointment. “Effort means nothing if he is still making you cry.”

Tenten sighed, giving Hinata’s shoulder a small squeeze before looking at Lee. “I get it, Lee, I do, but let’s not make this worse.”

“How could it be worse?” Lee huffed, his jaw tight. “Hinata is crying.”

Hinata let out a small sniffle, feeling embarrassed at how easily they had both seen through her. “I…I left the house to get fresh air.” Her voice was hoarse, exhausted. “I just…needed to breathe.”

Tenten’s gaze softened. “I’m glad you came here.”

Hinata offered a watery smile, but it quickly faded when Lee spoke again.

“A man should cherish his woman!” he said, full of passionate fervor. “He should respect her, honor her, uplift her! He should never make her feel as though she is unwanted, or as though she must fight for his care! If he cannot do that, then he does not deserve her!”

Hinata swallowed, a fresh wave of emotion creeping up her throat.

Because wasn’t that exactly what she had been doing?

Fighting.

Fighting for his care. Fighting for something that still didn’t feel real.

“I am disappointed in him,” Lee muttered, shaking his head. “Sasuke is a strong shinobi, but as a man?” He let out a sharp exhale. “He is failing.”

Hinata swallowed hard, fingers twisting together in her lap.

She wasn’t going to sit here and act like Sasuke hadn’t been trying. It wasn’t fair to say that when she knew he was, maybe not in the way others expected, maybe not in a way that had completely changed things between them, but he was trying.

“Sasuke-kun has been trying really hard,” she murmured, her voice quiet but steady.

Lee frowned, his expression still set with disapproval. “Does making an effort one day erase all the times he has made you cry? Does it undo the way he has neglected you, dismissed you, and treated you as if you were nothing more than an obligation?”

Hinata flinched slightly at his words.

It wasn’t that simple.

It wasn’t.

Lee wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t entirely right either.

Sasuke had been distant, cold, difficult to understand, but he had also changed in the past few weeks. He had tried to be around more, to talk to her more. And that was something, wasn’t it?

But Tenten’s voice cut through her thoughts, her tone firm.

“Him trying doesn’t excuse how he treated you before,” she said, shifting slightly to face Hinata more directly. “It doesn’t change the fact that he still makes you feel like shit.”

Hinata’s breath wavered.

Tenten shook her head, her voice softening just slightly. “It’s not about whether he’s making an effort now, Hinata. It’s about whether that effort is enough. Because from where I’m sitting? It sure as hell doesn’t look like it.”

Hinata clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her skirt.

Lee exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at her again, his usual brightness dimmed with disappointment.

“I do not doubt that he is trying,” Lee admitted, his voice calmer but no less firm. “But a man who truly cares for his wife does not try in fragments. He does not make her question whether she is truly wanted. He does not make her work for the barest scraps of his attention.” His brow furrowed deeply. “If you have to convince yourself that his effort is enough…then maybe it isn’t.”

Hinata’s breath hitched slightly, something sharp settling in her chest.

Because wasn’t that exactly what she had been doing?

Convincing herself.

Convincing herself that his small gestures meant something. That his brief moments of kindness and effort weren’t just fleeting instances, but the beginning of something real. A friendship.

Tenten reached for her hand, giving it a small squeeze. “We just want you to be happy, Hinata,” she murmured, her voice quieter now, no longer edged with frustration. “And from what we can see, you’re not.”

Hinata bit her lip, trying to steady herself, trying not to let the emotion rising in her chest completely overwhelm her.

She wasn’t sure if she was ready to accept what they were saying.

But deep down, she knew—

They weren’t wrong.

Lee let out a deep breath, as if trying to release the lingering frustration he felt on her behalf. Then, as if a sudden thought struck him, his entire demeanor shifted.

He stood up, planting his hands on his hips, his usual enthusiasm creeping back into his voice. “Hinata, would you like to train with me? I always find that training lifts my spirits when I am feeling troubled!” His thick brows furrowed slightly, his sincerity evident. “Perhaps it will help ease your mind as well.”

Hinata blinked up at him, surprised by the offer.

And for a brief moment, she considered it.

Training had always been a source of comfort for her, something that allowed her to focus, to push everything else aside and simply be.

But right now?

Right now, she just felt…drained.

So instead, she offered him a small, appreciative smile and shook her head. “Thank you, Lee-kun, but I think I’ll pass this time.”

Lee studied her for a moment, his expression softening slightly. Then, with a small nod, he gave her a determined look. “That is understandable.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Hinata nodded, her smile lingering.

Lee turned toward the door but paused just before stepping out. He glanced back at her, his expression suddenly serious. “Hinata,” he said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “You are strong. I hope you remember that.”

Hinata felt something warm settle in her chest, even as the weight of her earlier conversation with them still lingered.

She nodded. “I will.”

With one final nod, Lee gave a quick wave before exiting the shop, leaving only her and Tenten behind.

A few moments of silence stretched between them before Tenten sighed, leaning back against the counter, her arms crossed loosely over her chest.

“So,” she said, tilting her head, “have you ever thought about helping out at the academy?”

Hinata blinked, turning to her with mild surprise. “The school?”

“Yeah.” Tenten shrugged. “They’re always looking for shinobi to help train the younger students, and honestly, I think you’d be great at it.”

Hinata hesitated, glancing down at her hands. “…I never really thought about it.”

“Well, you should,” Tenten said, nudging her lightly with her elbow. “It might be a good way to get your mind off stupid Sasuke.” She wrinkled her nose. “And at the very least, it’d give you something to focus on besides this mess.”

Hinata bit her lip, considering it. She had always been good with children. She liked helping others, and she remembered how much her academy instructors had influenced her when she was younger.

Maybe…maybe it would be a good idea.

She nodded slowly. “I think I’ll look into it.”

Tenten grinned. “Good. I think you’ll love it.”

Hinata felt the weight in her chest lighten—just a little.

x-x-x-x

The academy stood just as she remembered it, tall and welcoming, the same warm scent of aged wood and ink drifting from its doors.

As she approached, a group of children came barreling past her, laughing and shrieking as they ran outside toward the playground. A small smile tugged at her lips as she watched them, their energy infectious. It reminded her of a time when she had been just like them, young, full of dreams, unaware of how much the world would change as she grew older.

Stepping inside, Hinata inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of chalk dust and old scrolls wrapping around her like an old friend. She hadn’t walked these hallways since her own graduation, since the last time she had been a child in this very place, full of nervous hope and quiet determination.

Her fingers trailed lightly along the walls as she walked, memories surfacing in waves. The nervousness before exams, the quiet encouragement from Kurenai-sensei, and the long afternoons spent training with Kiba and Shino after class.

Team 8.

A fond warmth filled her chest. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how much their lives had changed, Kiba and Shino would always be her teammates.

Her steps slowed as she reached the classroom she had been searching for.

Through the open door, she spotted him.

Shino sat at his desk, his posture as straight as ever, red pen in hand as he meticulously graded a stack of papers.

Hinata knocked gently on the doorframe. “Shino-kun.”

Shino paused mid-mark, his head lifting slightly. Then, with a rare but familiar smile, he set his pen down and turned toward her. “Hinata.”

She stepped inside, clasping her hands together. “It’s been a while,” she said warmly.

Shino nodded. “It has.” He studied her for a moment before asking, “What brings you here?”

Hinata hesitated before exhaling softly. “I was looking for a change of pace,” she admitted. “And I wanted to know if the school needed any extra help.”

Shino hummed in thought, adjusting his glasses. “Actually, we have been looking for extra hands in the library. One of the staff members went on maternity leave, and we’ve been short ever since.” His head tilted slightly. “Would that interest you?”

Hinata’s face lit up, and she clasped her hands together excitedly. It wasn’t training students, but it was something. “Really? If it’s possible, I’d love to help.”

Shino nodded. “I can put in a good word for you.”

Her eyes widened slightly before she beamed at him. “You really would?”

Shino offered a small smile. “Of course.”

She felt warmth bloom in her chest at his words.

But before she could say more, Shino leaned back in his chair, tilting his head toward her. “How have things been?” His voice was casual, but there was something deeper beneath it, something knowing. “You and Kiba have abandoned me.”

Hinata pouted. “That’s not true.”

Shino let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head slightly. “It feels like it.” He adjusted his glasses before exhaling softly. “But I understand. We all have our own lives now.” His voice softened. “That doesn’t mean I don’t miss you both.”

Hinata’s expression gentled. She had missed this. The quiet way Shino always reminded her that he cared, even if he didn’t say it in the same loud, affectionate ways that Kiba did. Despite everything, despite Team 8 no longer existing in the way it once had, Shino and Kiba were still her team. Her friends.

And they always would be.

“I miss you, too, Shino-kun,” she said honestly.

Shino studied her for a moment before nodding. “Good.”

Then, he glanced down at the stack of papers on his desk and sighed. “Unfortunately, I have to finish grading these. But if you’d like, you’re welcome to stay and keep me company.”

Hinata hesitated only for a moment before nodding. “I’d like that.”

She needed the distraction. 

Needed something other than the weight of her morning, than the lingering anger in Sasuke’s voice, than the heavy silence he had left behind. So she moved toward the front row, settling onto one of the benches, watching as Shino turned back to his work, red pen in hand. He was quiet for a moment, his focus returning to the papers in front of him. But then, without looking up, he spoke.

“I won’t ask,” he started. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here.” He paused. “So is Kiba. And Kurenai-sensei.”

Hinata felt something tighten in her throat, but she swallowed it down, offering him a small, grateful smile.

“Thank you, Shino-kun,” she murmured. “For now…I just want to talk to my friend.”

Shino finally glanced up at her, his expression calm, as he smiled.

“That,” he said, “is something I can do.”

x-x-x-x

His chest heaved, each breath heavy and sharp, his muscles burning from overexertion. Sweat trickled down the side of his forehead, rolling down his jaw before trailing down his neck. His skin glistened under the midday sun, the cool air doing little to soothe the heat radiating from his body.

The clearing around him was utterly wrecked.

Trees lay in splintered heaps, their trunks sliced clean through or snapped like twigs. Some still smoldered, thin wisps of smoke curling into the sky from where fire jutsu had scorched the bark. Others had holes blown clean through them, a testament to his frustration, his anger, that no amount of physical destruction could ease.

Annoyed, Sasuke wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, his breath still ragged.

“Sasuke-kun…”

He turned sharply, his body still coiled with leftover tension.

Sakura stood hesitantly a few feet away, her green eyes wide with concern.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “What are you doing here?”

She hesitated before answering. “You’re training near the hospital,” she explained, taking another cautious step forward. “People were complaining about the noise. I came to see what was going on.” Her lips pressed together. “I didn’t think it’d be you.”

Sasuke didn’t respond, his expression unreadable.

But he did notice the way her gaze flickered over his bare chest, lingering a beat too long before she quickly looked away.

Tch.

He turned away from her, walking toward where he had discarded his shirt earlier. Snatching it up, he slipped it over his head, the fabric clinging slightly to his damp skin.

“Are you okay?” she asked hesitantly.

“I’m fine,” he snapped.

Sakura flinched, and guilt immediately sank into his stomach.

He exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose before muttering, “…Sorry.” His voice was tight, exhausted. “I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone. It’s best if you leave.”

Sakura didn’t move.

Instead, she took another small step closer. “Is there anything I can do?”

Sasuke shook his head. “There isn’t.”

Her brows furrowed, her worry evident. “What happened?”

He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

And yet—

A part of him did. There had been a time, weeks ago, when he would have told her. When she had been the person he went to, someone who had understood him, someone who had made him feel less alone in the mess of his own emotions.

But not now. Not when he was trying to keep his marital problems away from her. Not when everything had become so complicated. Even so, being in her presence did calm him. Only slightly.

Sakura watched him for a moment before offering, “I was about to have lunch. Do you want to join me?”

Sasuke thought about turning her down.

But then Kakashi’s face flashed in his mind.

His fingers twitched at his sides, the memory of Hinata’s soft expression whenever she was with him only fueling the slow burn of his irritation.

So instead of saying no, he found himself muttering, “Fine.”

Sakura’s eyes lit up with surprise before her expression softened into a warm smile. “I brought lunch with me to work,” she said cheerfully. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Sasuke didn’t say anything as she hurried off.

Instead, he walked toward the nearest tree, sitting down and resting his back against the trunk. His legs stretched out in front of him, his arms resting over his knees as he stared at the ruined clearing before him.

He felt drained.

Physically. Mentally.

And then, his mind drifted back.

To her.

Hinata’s tear-filled eyes flashed in his mind, her trembling voice, the sheer hurt in her expression before he had stormed out.

Sasuke clicked his tongue in irritation, shutting his eyes as he let his head rest back against the tree. He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to feel it. But no matter how much he tried to push it away, it clung to him like a shadow. A few minutes later, the sound of approaching footsteps pulled him from his thoughts.

Sakura returned, a neatly wrapped bento box in her hands. She smiled as she sat down beside him, untying the fabric with careful hands.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she admitted as she opened the box. “But I don’t mind sharing.”

Sasuke glanced down at the bento. Inside, there was neatly arranged rice, tamagoyaki, lightly seasoned vegetables, grilled fish, and small onigiri wrapped in seaweed.

Sakura picked up her chopsticks, gathering a small bite of food. She hesitated for a moment before holding it out toward him, her expression expectant.

Sasuke stared at the way she held the chopsticks, then flicked his gaze up to meet hers.

“I can feed myself,” he muttered.

Sakura turned red, quickly pulling her hand back. “O-of course.” She handed him a spare pair of chopsticks, but he shook his head.

“I’m not hungry,” he said. “I’ll just keep you company.”

She nodded, looking slightly disappointed but didn’t push. Instead, she ate quietly, the silence between them oddly comfortable.

After a moment, she spoke again.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

Sasuke sighed. “I’m sure.”

Sakura let it go, chewing on a bite of rice before glancing at him.

“You worked up quite a sweat,” she noted.

Sasuke looked down at her, raising a brow. “Is that your way of saying I smell?”

Her face flamed, and she quickly shook her head. “N-no! You don’t smell at all, Sasuke-kun! I just meant—” She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Never mind.”

Sasuke smirked faintly but didn’t comment. He honestly didn’t care either way. He was exhausted. Then, as if trying to change the subject, Sakura brought up the festival.

“I really hope I run into you tomorrow,” she said, then quickly corrected herself. “I mean you and Hinata.”

Sasuke glanced at her before exhaling through his nose. “I’m not going.”

Sakura blinked, looking surprised. “Why not?”

“I changed my mind,” he said simply.

She hesitated. “So…you and Hinata will just stay home?”

Sasuke narrowed his eyes slightly. “Stop fishing for answers.”

His tone was serious, but the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips softened it slightly.

Sakura muttered under her breath, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

He waved it off. “I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

She smiled slightly. “Yeah.”

A moment of peaceful silence stretched between them, the tension in Sasuke’s body finally starting to ease.

After everything that had happened that morning, it was a relief to just be for a moment. His eyes grew heavy, exhaustion creeping in. He wasn’t ready to go home. Not yet. Instead, as he let out a slow sigh, he made a decision.

He’d rent a room at an inn for the night.

Because he wasn’t ready to see her. 

Not yet at least. 

x-x-x-x

x-x-x-x

Next day: The Festival…

The festival stretched before her like a living painting, warm golden hues from hanging lanterns illuminating the bustling streets of Konoha. The gentle clinking of wind chimes mixed with the rhythmic pounding of taiko drums, a sound that thrummed through the soles of her feet as she walked. The air was thick with the scent of sizzling yakitori, sweet red bean paste, and the faint, lingering aroma of incense drifting from vendor stalls selling handmade trinkets.

Hinata’s wooden sandals clicked softly against the pavement, each step measured, deliberate. The silk of her kimono, a deep, midnight blue, swayed around her ankles with the cool evening breeze, gold embroidery glistening like flecks of stardust beneath the lantern light. Her obi, tied in an intricate knot at her back, hugged her waist snugly, while a delicate golden hairpin kept stray strands of her dark hair in place.

The festival was alive.

Children darted past her, their delighted shrieks filling the air as they waved sparklers through the night, leaving trails of golden light in their wake. Teenagers huddled together near food stands, laughing and nudging one another as they played festival games. Elderly couples strolled hand in hand, their movements slow but affectionate, as if reliving old memories in the midst of the new.

Hinata let herself breathe it in. The warmth of the festival, the energy, the happiness, even if she wasn’t sure she could grasp it for herself, she could feel it all around her. And yet—

Sasuke never came home last night.

That thought lurked in the back of her mind, dark and unshakable, despite her best efforts to ignore it.

She had woken up alone to the faint, bitter scent of extinguished candle wax and the unmade futon in his empty room. The silence of the house had pressed against her chest, heavier than usual.

For the briefest moment, her mind had wandered—had he been with her?

Her jaw tightened slightly, and she shook the thought away, her steps continuing forward.

It shouldn’t matter.

Sasuke had made his decision the moment he stormed out yesterday, the door slamming behind him so hard that the windows rattled. He hadn’t come back.

That alone told her everything she needed to know.

She exhaled slowly, allowing the sounds of the festival to pull her back into the present, to wash over her like a balm.

Then—

“Hinata!”

Her steps faltered.

The voice was clear, unmistakable.

For a fleeting second, she considered ignoring it, letting her feet carry her forward, deeper into the festival, away from whatever this was.

But something in her chest tightened, forcing her to stop.

Slowly, she turned. Her forced smile was tight, barely there, the only thing she could manage as the woman approached.

Sakura.

She looked beautiful, Hinata noted with a distant sort of acknowledgment.

The soft pink kimono she wore suited her, embroidered with delicate cherry blossoms that swirled along the sleeves and hem. A pristine white obi cinched the fabric at her waist, complementing the pale undertones of her fair skin. Her short hair, neatly tucked behind her ears, framed her face in a way that accentuated her features, and under the golden glow of the lanterns, she looked almost ethereal.

The bitterness that curled in Hinata’s stomach was uninvited but present all the same.

"You look nice," Sakura said, offering a polite, small smile.

Hinata nodded, her voice quiet but steady. "You too."

A pause. The moment stretched between them, hanging uncomfortably in the space where words should have been.

"How have you been?" Sakura asked.

Hinata barely hesitated before answering. "Fine."

Short. Clipped. Just enough to be polite, but nothing more.

Sakura nodded, as if she had expected that. She shifted on her feet, glancing around briefly before tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I can’t wait for the fireworks,” she said, the attempt at small talk clear.

Hinata nodded again but said nothing. Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. Was Sasuke somewhere around? Had Sakura come looking for him? But before Hinata could dwell on it, Sakura sighed, shifting the conversation.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” she admitted. “Sasuke-kun said he wasn’t going.”

Hinata’s brows lifted slightly.

“When did you see Sasuke?”

The question came out before she could stop it.

Sakura’s expression flickered, just for a fraction of a second, before she quickly covered it.

“I—” she cleared her throat. “I ran into him the other day. He told me he wasn’t going, so I assumed I wouldn’t see either of you here.” She smiled, though it was tight at the edges. “But I’m glad he changed his mind.”

Hinata stared at her. The weight in her chest grew heavier. But she didn’t want to ask. Didn’t want to know. Instead, she took a breath, ready to excuse herself, to part ways before this conversation became anything more than forced pleasantries.

But then—she stopped. Her own voice surprised her.

"Sakura-san," she said, softer this time, but more deliberate.

Sakura blinked, startled at the sudden shift.

"I considered you a friend,” Hinata continued, her voice measured, though something raw sat just beneath it. “A good one."

Sakura’s lips parted slightly, but no words came.

"And because of that…" Hinata inhaled, steadying herself. "I was very hurt by what you and Sasuke-kun did behind my back."

Sakura’s breath hitched.

Hinata kept her gaze on her, unwavering.

“I trusted you.”

A pause.

“And you hurt me.”

Sakura swallowed, guilt flickering across her face.

Then—

“I know,” she admitted, her voice quieter. “But you have to understand, Hinata. It wasn’t something we meant to do. It just happened.”

Hinata clenched her jaw.

She hated that answer.

It didn’t just happen.

“You chose to meet him,” Hinata said, her voice sharper, but still controlled. “He chose to go to you.” Her fingers twitched. “That wasn’t an accident.”

Sakura pressed her lips together. “It was complicated.”

“No,” Hinata said plainly. “It was simple.”

Silence.

The festival continued around them, bright and full of life, but for Hinata, it felt like a distant hum in the background. The conversation with Sakura stretched taut between them like a thin wire, ready to snap at any moment.

Sakura was still standing there, watching her closely, an unreadable expression in her green eyes.

“Three years isn’t forever,” Sakura said carefully, her voice measured. “After the contract ends, you’ll be free.”

Hinata’s brows furrowed at the words.

She tilted her head slightly, studying Sakura. “How do you know about the contract?”

Sakura hesitated. Then, with a small sigh, she admitted, “Sasuke-kun told me.”

Of course he did.

She inhaled slowly, making sure her voice remained calm when she responded. “Sasuke-kun is wrong about the contract.”

Sakura blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Hinata’s fingers curled against the fabric of her kimono, but she willed herself to remain composed.

“The contract doesn’t guarantee an out after three years,” she clarified. “It isn’t as simple as ‘waiting it out and leaving.’ That’s not how it was structured.”

Sakura’s brows knitted together. “Then what does it say?”

Hinata exhaled, choosing her words carefully. “After three years, the marriage will be reviewed by both clans. If they deem the arrangement to be unsuccessful, meaning it brings no benefit, no political stability, or the possibility of an heir, the marriage may be reconsidered. But that decision is not solely up to us.”

Sakura’s lips parted slightly, her face shifting with realization.

“So you’re saying—”

“I’m saying that even if we want to leave,” Hinata interrupted, “it won’t matter unless the elders and the clan heads agree. And considering Sasuke-kun is the last Uchiha, and I am one of the few remaining Hyūga heirs, they will never dissolve the marriage unless it’s deemed completely fruitless.” She paused, voice quiet but firm. “He assumed he could just walk away after three years. But assumption and reality are two different things.”

Sakura’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. Hinata could tell she was processing the information, but something about the way her gaze hardened told her this wasn’t the only thing Sakura wanted to say.

“So…you’re saying that after three years, you could still be stuck,” Sakura murmured as if confirming it aloud.

“We could still be stuck.”

The silence between them was thick, suffocating.

Then, Sakura exhaled sharply, crossing her arms. “I know you think I betrayed you, Hinata, but you have to understand—”

Hinata shook her head, her voice cutting through with quiet strength. “I don’t think anything, Sakura-san.” Her pale eyes locked onto green. “I know.”

Sakura’s breath hitched, but she stood her ground. “It wasn’t like that. You make it sound as if we planned it—”

“Did you ever stop to think about what you were doing?” Hinata pressed, voice soft.

Sakura’s lips parted, but no answer came immediately.

Hinata exhaled, shaking her head slightly. “I was your friend, and you knew what this marriage meant for me. You knew I was struggling, but instead of being someone I could confide in, you—” she cut herself off, pressing her lips together. “You and Sasuke-kun both made a choice. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t just something that happened.”

Sakura’s brows furrowed, something desperate flickering across her face. “I cared about you, Hinata.”

Hinata smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Not enough.”

Sakura inhaled sharply, but whatever she was about to say, she swallowed it back down.

The two women stood there in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by warmth and laughter, but they were frozen in their own bitter, cold reality.

Finally, Sakura spoke again, her voice softer, but no less strained.

“…I hope, one day, you can forgive me.”

Hinata blinked, momentarily surprised. Sakura’s expression was complicated, as if she wasn’t sure she even deserved the forgiveness she was asking for.

Hinata didn’t say anything. Not because she was being cruel, but because she didn’t know if she could. Instead, she exhaled slowly, her voice even.

“Enjoy the festival, Sakura-san.”

And with that, she turned and walked away.

Her heart was pounding against her ribs, but she refused to let it show, weaving through the crowd in search of anything to distract her. Then she collided into someone’s back. Hard. Hinata gasped, stumbling slightly as she instinctively reached out for balance. The person in front of her turned around, his presence familiar before she even lifted her gaze.

Tall. Dark yukata. A matching black mask covering the lower half of his face.

She blinked, startled. “Kakashi?”

He looked equally surprised, his one visible eye widening slightly. “Hinata?”

They had spoken at the same time.

Then, after a brief pause, Kakashi chuckled. “Fancy running into you.” He glanced over her attire, his gaze appreciative but respectful. “You look lovely.”

Heat crept up Hinata’s neck. “Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “You look nice as well.”

Kakashi’s yukata was a simple black, tailored neatly over his broad shoulders. His mask, as always, concealed the lower half of his face, but there was something effortlessly composed about his presence, even in casual wear.

He glanced around before asking, “Where’s Sasuke?”

Hinata’s expression faltered, her gaze flickering away. “I came alone.”

She caught the way Kakashi muttered under his breath, “Damn it, Sasuke…”

Hinata shook her head slightly, deciding to change the subject. “Thank you.”

Kakashi arched a brow. “For what?”

“For convincing Sasuke-kun to come to the festival,” she admitted, offering him a small, grateful smile.

Kakashi frowned slightly. “If he was going to come, why isn’t he here?”

She opened her mouth, but the memory of their argument, the venom in Sasuke’s words, the way he stormed out, flashed through her mind, and she clamped her lips shut. Instead, she exhaled. “We’re mad at each other right now.”

Kakashi studied her face, seeming to catch that Hinata didn’t want to talk about it. “I see.”

Then, without warning, he held out a stick of yakitori.

Hinata blinked.

“Hungry?” he asked.

She hesitated, then took the offering. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

As she bit into the savory, perfectly grilled chicken, Kakashi tilted his head. “Are you at least having a good time?”

She thought about it. Despite everything, the conversation with Sakura, the heavy mood she had woken up with, there was something refreshing about being here.

“I think I am,” she admitted.
 
Kakashi chewed on a piece of his yakitori, his visible eye crinkling with something unreadable. Then, without warning, he gestured with a tilt of his head.

“Come with me.”

Hinata blinked up at him, surprised. “Where?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he started walking, his movements relaxed, purposeful, as if he had all the time in the world.

A small frown tugged at her lips before she let out a breath and hurried after him, weaving through the thickening crowd. The sounds of the festival swirled around them—laughter, the rhythmic pounding of drums, the chatter of families gathered near food stalls.

Despite not knowing where he was taking her, she didn’t hesitate.

He stopped suddenly in the middle of a wide clearing, the space slightly elevated above the rest of the festival grounds.

Hinata came to a halt beside him, her brows knitting together as she glanced around. “Kakashi-sensei?”

He simply tilted his chin upward.

Following his gaze, she looked up—

Her lips parted slightly.

The sky stretched vast and open above them, the lantern lights below dim enough that she could see the first bursts of color starting to flicker in the distance.

“I heard this is the best spot to watch the fireworks,” Kakashi said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful.

Hinata’s chest warmed at the sentiment.

For a moment, she let herself take it in, the way the air felt just a little lighter here, the way the festival lights shimmered from a distance, the way he had brought her to a place like this.

She turned to him, smiling softly. “Thank you.”

Kakashi merely shrugged, but she caught the way his gaze lingered on her for half a second longer before he looked away.

A sharp whistle cut through the air, and the first firework shot up, streaking across the night sky. Hinata’s breath hitched in anticipation.

But before it could fully bloom—A loud crack sounded from above. Then—A sudden downpour. The sky split open without warning, and within seconds, the festival-goers were drenched.

Gasps and surprised laughter erupted all around as people scrambled for shelter. Paper lanterns flickered wildly in the wind, some extinguishing entirely. Vendors hurried to cover their goods, while children shrieked with glee, dancing in the unexpected rain before their parents rushed them inside.

Hinata let out a startled gasp as the cold water seeped through her layers of silk, drenching her to the bone.

When she turned to Kakashi, she found him already looking at her, his hair slicked down against his forehead, water dripping down the fabric of his mask.

For a moment, they just stared at each other.

And then they laughed.

Hinata wasn’t sure who started it first, but before she knew it, she was doubling over slightly, giggling at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Kakashi chuckled, shaking his head as he wiped some of the water from his face. “Should we run?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

Hinata could feel the coolness of the rain clinging to her skin, her hair sticking to her cheeks. She lifted her hands slightly, palms facing up as if to say, we’re already soaked.

Still, she nodded.

Without thinking, Kakashi reached for her wrist, his fingers wrapping around it lightly as he pulled her forward.

They ran, ducking and weaving through the scrambling crowd, dodging people carrying festival goods over their heads in a poor attempt to shield themselves. The sound of rain hitting the pavement mixed with the laughter of people embracing the storm, some even dancing in it.

After a few turns through the festival grounds, they finally found shelter, a wooden seating area beneath a large awning, its covering just wide enough to keep the rain from soaking the benches underneath.

Hinata let out a breath of relief as they slid beneath it, their footsteps heavy against the damp wooden floor.

A moment passed before Kakashi let out a small, breathless chuckle. “Well,” he mused, pushing his wet hair back, “at least we heard the fireworks before the rain ruined it.”

Hinata giggled, wringing out her sleeves. “True.”

She reached up, pulling the pin from her hair, allowing the strands to fall freely before she twisted sections into her hands, squeezing out the excess water.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Kakashi pause.

His gaze lingered, watching the way her fingers combed through the damp strands, but the moment her eyes met his, he quickly looked away, his posture stiffening slightly. 

Hinata blinked but chose not to say anything. Instead, she busied herself with fixing her hair, twisting it over her shoulder before letting out a small sigh.

Kakashi settled onto the bench beside her, leaning back slightly. “I wasn’t going to come tonight,” he admitted, breaking the silence.

Hinata turned to him, tilting her head slightly. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “I usually just watch from my roof. I don’t like crowds.”

That did sound like him.

Kakashi exhaled slowly through his nose, the sound barely audible beneath the soft patter of rain against the wooden awning. The dim lantern light flickered against his damp skin, casting faint shadows over the sharp lines of his face. His wet hair clung in uneven strands to his forehead, silver darkened with moisture, and yet, despite being soaked to the bone, he looked as effortlessly composed as ever.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at her.

“But…something told me to come this year,” he murmured, his voice softer now, more thoughtful, as if he himself were just realizing the weight of his words.

Hinata felt a shiver, not from the cold, but from him, from the way his voice had dipped just slightly lower, rougher, as if there was something he wasn’t saying aloud.

Her fingers stilled where they had been twisting a damp lock of her hair. Slowly, she turned her head just enough to look at him, and that’s when she realized—He was already looking at her. Not in passing. Not in the fleeting, casual way most people did.

But really looking.

His gaze was steady, unwavering, his dark eye reflecting the golden lantern light above them. The usual teasing glint was gone, replaced with something unreadable.

Hinata’s throat tightened. Her pulse thrummed against her ribs as the space between them seemed to shrink, as if the rain itself had cocooned them in their own separate world, where nothing else existed except this. Then, just when she thought she might drown in the silence, he spoke again, voice quiet—almost too quiet.

“…I’m glad I did.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine, subtle, but powerful in their sincerity.

Hinata’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening slightly around the damp strands of her hair. The air between them suddenly felt heavier, charged with something she wasn’t sure she wanted to admit. Quickly, she turned her head away, her face burning despite the cool night air. Her heart pounded wildly against her ribs, betraying her, but she forced herself to focus on the rain, the soft glow of the festival lights beyond the covered awning.

But no matter how much she tried—

She couldn’t ignore the way Kakashi was still watching her.

Hinata was still caught in the quiet spell of the moment, the warmth lingering between them beneath the shelter of the awning. The rain drummed steadily against the wooden beams, mist curling at the edges where the downpour met the dry space they sat in. Kakashi’s words still echoed faintly in her mind.

I’m glad I did.

She swallowed, the weight of it settling somewhere deep, when—

“Hinata.”

The sound of her name was sharp, breathless. Both she and Kakashi instinctively looked up.

Sasuke stood in front of them, his dark hair plastered to his forehead, rain dripping from the ends onto his already-soaked clothes. He was still wearing the same attire from the day before, his black shirt clinging to his frame, the fabric heavy with moisture. His breath was uneven, his chest rising and falling as if he had run all the way there.

In his hand, he held an umbrella.

Hinata’s brows furrowed, part confusion, part something else entirely. She parted her lips to ask what he was doing here, but before she could, Sasuke took a step forward. His gaze burned, heavy with frustration and something deeper as it locked onto Kakashi.

Kakashi, for his part, remained perfectly still, his expression unreadable, but the quiet intensity in his eyes matched Sasuke’s glare beat for beat. Hinata barely had time to process the shift before Sasuke reached out and grabbed her wrist. The movement was sudden, firm, yanking her up from the bench and directly into his chest.

Hinata let out a small gasp at the impact, her hands catching against the soaked fabric of his shirt.

Sasuke exhaled, his voice tight. “Thanks for keeping an eye on my wife.” His grip around her wrist tightened slightly. “But you’re no longer needed.”

Hinata stiffened. She immediately tried to step back, but Sasuke’s other arm wound around her waist, keeping her locked in place against him.

She felt Kakashi shift beside them.

Then, after a pause, his voice came, calm but annoyed. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Through the crook of Sasuke’s arm, Hinata peeked just in time to see Kakashi’s expression flicker.

For a split second, the look in his eye almost appeared…sad.

But before she could fully process it, the emotion was gone, replaced with his usual unreadable demeanor.

Kakashi turned to her, his voice lighter now, though distant. “I’ll see you another time, Hinata.” A small tilt of his head. “When you finish that book, we’ll chat about it.”

Hinata opened her mouth to respond—

But before she could say a word, Kakashi was gone.

The moment he disappeared, Sasuke’s grip loosened.

Hinata pushed against his chest, forcing space between them. “Why are you here?”

Sasuke let out a breath, his irritation evident, but his voice was controlled when he spoke. “I spent all of yesterday pissed off,” he admitted bluntly. “I barely slept, thinking about what you said. Thinking about what I said.”

Hinata frowned, her arms crossing as she studied him.

He ran a hand through his soaked hair, exhaling sharply. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that,” he continued. “But I meant every word, aside from calling you an idiot.” He shot her a glance. “Blind, definitely. But not an idiot.”

Hinata’s fingers tightened slightly around the fabric of her kimono. Her voice was quieter when she spoke, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it.

“What you said yesterday…it hurt,” she admitted, her throat tightening slightly. “And when you slammed your fist against the wall, it scared me.”

Sasuke inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering with something unreadable before he exhaled, his shoulders dropping slightly.

“I know,” he muttered, his tone uncharacteristically subdued. His jaw clenched before he added, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away briefly before muttering, “I’ll fix the wall.”

Hinata studied his expression, the sincerity laced in his words, before hesitating.

“I…understand why you were upset,” she admitted, the words cautious but genuine. “And I’m sorry, too.”

Sasuke’s eyes flicked back to hers, searching her face.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The rain continued to fall in steady sheets around them, filling the silence between them.

Sasuke chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “I went home to apologize. To say I’d go with you tonight.” He scoffed, as if irritated with himself. “But you weren’t there.”

Hinata stayed silent, watching him carefully.

Sasuke shifted his weight, gripping the umbrella tighter in his hand. “It started raining, and I ran here to find you—brought this damn thing so you wouldn’t get wet.” His jaw clenched, his voice lowering. “Felt pretty fucking stupid when I got here and saw you sitting with him.”

Hinata exhaled through her nose.

There it was.

The real reason he was standing here, drenched and scowling.

His voice was strained, frustration simmering beneath every word. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. And that I know I still care for Sakura. I won’t lie about that. But I also want you to try to see things from my perspective,” he pressed. “Because this thing with Kakashi—” his hands curled into fists— “I know what I see.”

There was a beat of silence before Sasuke finally asked, voice sharp—

“Do you like the old man?”

Hinata’s lips parted slightly in surprise. She opened her mouth, then closed it, debating how much to say. Finally, she exhaled and answered honestly. “I have a small crush on him,” she admitted. “He’s been there for me a lot.”

Sasuke let out a slow breath. “Yeah. I know.” His tone wasn’t mocking, it was almost resigned. “I’m trying to understand how I feel about this.”

Hinata’s gaze softened, but the tension between them didn’t wane.

Sasuke exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his soaked hair before fixing her with a hard stare. “I’m not saying my feelings for Sakura are fair, but at least I admit to them.” His voice was taut, edged with frustration. “I don’t sit here pretending they don’t exist or acting like I don’t understand how complicated this is.”

Hinata’s brows knitted together, her fingers curling into the damp fabric of her kimono. “And you think I’m pretending?”

Sasuke scoffed, shifting his weight. “I think you’re lying to yourself about what’s really happening with Kakashi.”

Hinata inhaled slowly, forcing her voice to remain steady. “I told you. I care about him, but it’s not the same. It’s not love, and I don’t even—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sasuke cut her off, his eyes darkening. “It’s still something. You get defensive every time I bring him up, just like I do when you mention Sakura.”

Hinata opened her mouth to refute it, but Sasuke didn’t let her.

“You’re attached to him,” he stated plainly, voice quieter now, but no less firm. “You like the way he makes you feel, the way he looks at you. You might not love him, but that doesn’t mean it’s nothing.”

Hinata’s throat tightened.

Sasuke sighed, rubbing his temple. “You know what? Maybe we are both contradicting,” he admitted. “Me with Sakura. You with Kakashi.”

Hinata opened her mouth to protest, but Sasuke cut her off. “Don’t,” he warned, tilting his head slightly. “You just admitted to having a crush on him. Don’t lie to yourself.”

Hinata flushed, crossing her arms stubbornly. “It’s not love.”

“No,” Sasuke agreed. “But he likes you.”

She fell silent at that, biting her lip.

After a long pause, Sasuke sighed heavily. “If we keep talking about this, I’m really going to explode.”

Then, with an almost reluctant exhale, he muttered, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but…” He glanced at her. “I think we should try to be friends.”

Hinata blinked, caught off guard.

“It’ll be difficult,” Sasuke continued. “We argue too much and will probably argue again.” A half-shrug. “But we need some kind of system. Ground rules.”

Hinata raised a brow. “Like what?”

Sasuke crossed his arms. “It’s fine if we need space. But we have to talk things out by the end of the day.” He frowned slightly as if the words tasted strange coming from his mouth. “Communication is hard for me. I’ll probably piss you off more than I’ll make you happy. But I’m going to work on communicating better.”

Hinata tilted her head, listening carefully.

Sasuke exhaled. “I know I can’t stop you from seeing Kakashi,” he admitted, irritation flickering in his tone. “But just…don’t be alone with him at night. And no sitting together under covered awnings while it rains.” He shot her a flat look. “That’s not unreasonable.”

Hinata bit the inside of her cheek, but nodded. “And Sakura-san?”

Sasuke exhaled through his nose. “I can’t promise I won’t run into her. But I’ll always be honest about it if I do. And I won’t go to her place again.”

He met her gaze. “That work for you?”

Hinata thought about it—really thought about it.

Then, finally, she nodded.

Sasuke relaxed slightly.

A pause.

“…Do you know what today is?”

Sasuke’s lips twitched. “Yeah.”

She hummed. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

The rain continued pouring around them, soaking the streets.

Then, after a moment, Sasuke muttered, “…Happy anniversary.”

Hinata blinked before offering a small smile. “Happy anniversary.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You stink.”

Sasuke grunted, scowling. “Is that so?”

Hinata nodded. “Yeah. That’s so.”

Sasuke clicked his tongue. “Didn’t have spare clothes at the inn. I did shower.”

Hinata blinked. The inn.

Not Sakura’s.

Something in her chest eased.

But instead of commenting, she shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. She scrunched up her nose slightly, tilting her head as if assessing him. “Doesn’t matter,” she said lightly. “You still smell.”

Sasuke’s smirk widened slightly, his dark eyes flicking over to her. He exhaled through his nose, feigning irritation. “Tch. Annoying,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

Hinata hummed, tilting her head. “Maybe,” she mused, her voice laced with playful amusement. “But I’m not the one who stinks.”

Sasuke clicked his tongue, glaring off to the side. “Hn. Whatever.”

But the small twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

He took a step back, glancing around at the now-empty festival grounds. The rain had driven most people away, leaving the lantern-lit streets eerily quiet, save for the steady patter of raindrops against the wooden awning. With a tilt of his head, he looked back at her. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Hinata hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly at her sides before she shook her head.

“I want to stay for a little longer,” she admitted softly. “Just to listen.”

Sasuke raised an eyebrow. “To what?”

She glanced past him, toward the darkened streets, the soft glow of lanterns flickering against the wet pavement. “The rain,” she murmured.

Sasuke studied her for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he stepped past her.

She turned slightly, watching as he lowered himself onto the bench, exhaling as he stretched his legs out in front of him. He set the umbrella beside him with a quiet clink before leaning back against the wooden frame.

“I’ll wait,” he said simply, tilting his head up toward the open sky. “Might as well listen with you.”

Hinata blinked, surprised at the lack of protest.

For a moment, she just stared at him, at the way the water dripped from his soaked bangs, the way his usually guarded expression was slightly softer beneath the lantern light. Then, with a quiet breath, she stepped forward, lowering herself onto the bench beside him. The rain continued to fall in steady waves, surrounding them in a quiet, soothing hum.

Neither of them spoke.