Chapter 7
The rain clung to him like a second skin. Droplets slid from the strands of his soaked hair, tracing the sharp angles of his jaw before dripping onto the wooden floor. His home was quiet—too quiet. The only sound filling the space was the steady patter of rain against the windows and the rhythmic drip of water falling from his sleeves.
Kakashi stood motionless just inside his doorway, his muscles tight, his breathing even but heavy. He had yet to move, yet to peel off his drenched yukata, yet to do anything except stare at the floorboards beneath him.
His mind was far from here, caught in the remnants of the night, the way the lanterns had glowed against the rain-slick streets, the scent of grilled food that lingered in the air, the soft, fleeting warmth of Hinata standing beside him under that awning.
And then him.
Sasuke, appearing, out of nowhere, breathless, soaked, and scowling as he yanked her into his arms.
Kakashi clenched his jaw, his hand twitching at his side. For the past two weeks, he had been nudging Sasuke, giving him the occasional push, trying to get the Uchiha to realize what he had in front of him. And sure, he’d taunted him, poked at him in that Kakashi way, but at the root of it, he meant it. He wanted Sasuke to step up, to try, to be the husband Hinata deserved.
Because that was what mattered.
That was what he kept telling himself.
And yet—
The other side of him had wanted tonight to belong to him.
The selfish, quiet part of him had wanted to be the one walking beside her, nudging her toward the stalls with the best food, slipping teasing remarks into her ear just to see that soft pink bloom on her cheeks. He wanted to be the one to stand with her beneath the festival lights, to listen as she quietly took in the fireworks with that small, breathy sigh she always made when something took her by surprise.
It was foolish to want. Shameful, even.
But knowing that didn’t make the ache any easier to bear.
With a heavy exhale, Kakashi finally forced his body to move, dragging himself toward the bathroom. The moment he stepped inside, he stripped off his soaked yukata, letting the heavy fabric drop onto the tiled floor with a dull thud. His mask followed, discarded carelessly onto the counter.
His gaze flickered to the mirror, and he hesitated.
His reflection stared back at him, damp silver hair darkened from the rain, the familiar sharp lines of his face, the scars that stretched over years of battles won and lost. His jaw was shadowed with stubble, his expression unreadable, even to himself.
He looked…tired. More than usual. He exhaled sharply through his nose and turned away. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew how ridiculous this was—how utterly wrong it was to let his feelings fester like this. She was a married woman. He was old enough to know better.
But the truth was, sometimes he didn’t want to know better.
He’d seen it. The way her face would light up whenever she spotted him, the way her lips would part slightly when he said something that caught her off guard. He knew the effect he had on her.
And god help him, he liked it.
It was dangerous, reckless, irresponsible.
But it was also the best part of his day.
And that—that—was the real problem.
Kakashi sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning on the shower. Steam curled into the air almost instantly, fogging the mirror, wrapping around him as he stepped beneath the heated spray.
The water hit his skin in soothing rivulets, cascading over the hard planes of his body, washing away the tension that had been coiling in his muscles since the moment he saw her tonight. He braced a hand against the wall, tilting his head back as the warmth soaked into him, loosening his stiff shoulders, gliding down the taut muscles of his abdomen, slipping over the well-carved contours of his arms.
He let out a slow breath, eyes slipping shut.
He should feel guilty.
And sometimes, he did.
But other times, he let himself wonder.
He let himself imagine what it would be like to be the one she turned to at the end of the day. To be the one she looked for in a crowded festival. To be the one standing at her side, wanted, chosen, loved.
And yet, the cruel irony of it all?
He was the one who had been pushing her toward Sasuke.
He was the one who had encouraged her to try.
He was the one who had convinced himself that this was the best thing for her.
So why did it hurt?
Why had it stung to watch Sasuke pull her against him like she belonged there?
Kakashi exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
He knew why.
Jealousy.
That ugly, festering thing that clawed at him when he saw her in his arms, when he saw the way Sasuke glared at him like he knew—like he knew exactly what Kakashi felt and was silently daring him to act on it.
It was childish. Stupid.
But fuck, it was real.
Still, he had to be rational. Logical.
Because unlike Sasuke, he wasn’t some brooding kid who acted on impulse.
And the reality was that he was too damn old to be feeling this way.
Each time Sasuke jabbed at him about it, the words carried more weight than they should. Maybe because they were true. Maybe because, when he really thought about it, he realized that in his mid-twenties, she had been just a kid.
Of course, the feelings had never existed back then, but it didn’t erase the fact that he had known her when she was a child, when she was shy and barely able to string together a full sentence without tripping over her words.
And now?
Now, she was a grown woman, strong, capable, beautiful in ways that made his pulse betray him.
He exhaled, pushing wet hair back from his forehead. No one had given them strange looks, no one had commented on their interactions, but the thought still crept in sometimes—this isn’t right.
Then, like clockwork, she would say something, tilt her head in that way that made his stomach tighten, and suddenly, the weight in his chest would lighten.
Maybe that was the real danger of it all. Because Hinata never made him feel wrong.
Not once.
And that was why he needed to put some distance between them. It was best for both of them. Even if it meant tearing himself away from the thing he wanted most.
Maybe tonight should be the last night he saw her for a while.
Kakashi sighed, running a hand down his face as the hot water cascaded over him, sliding down the contours of his body, washing away the cold rain that had soaked into his skin. The thought had been lingering in the back of his mind since the moment he turned his back on her and Sasuke nearly moments ago.
He should step back.
Give them space.
See how things played out on their own.
Because the more he saw her, the harder it became to ignore the way he felt. And ignoring it was the only thing keeping him from doing something incredibly stupid.
Maybe if he distanced himself for a while, he could get his head on straight. Let things settle between them, between her and Sasuke. If the Uchiha was truly trying, then Kakashi had no place in the middle of it.
He’d check back in a week or so.
Just to see.
Just to make sure she was okay.
Nothing more.
It would be easy.
He had been alone most of his life. He knew how to detach, how to disappear when necessary. This would be no different.
Right?
Kakashi scoffed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.
He could lie to himself all he wanted, but the truth was, stepping back from her was going to feel like tearing out a piece of himself.
But maybe it was time to see what life looked like without her warmth at his side.
Even if the thought left a hollow ache in his chest.
x-x-x-x
The next morning sunlight filtered through her bedroom window, casting warm golden streaks across the walls and floor. It was soft, almost dreamlike, the way it illuminated the room in a delicate glow. Hinata stretched, her body still wrapped in the lingering warmth of her blankets. A quiet yawn escaped her lips as she blinked up at the ceiling, momentarily disoriented by how bright it was.
Her gaze flickered to the small clock on her nightstand.
Ten o’clock?
She sat up slowly, her long hair slipping over her shoulder as she ran a hand through it. She usually wasn’t one to sleep in this late, but the morning felt different. Light. Peaceful. Restful in a way that didn’t make her feel guilty for waking up later than usual.
With a quiet sigh, she pushed herself out of bed and padded toward the bathroom, her bare feet sinking into the soft tatami flooring. The air inside was still slightly cool from the evening rain, sending a small shiver down her spine as she stepped inside and turned on the shower.
The moment the warm water cascaded over her skin, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The heat soaked into her muscles, washing away any lingering tension from the night before. She closed her eyes, allowing the steam to curl around her, the soft droplets slipping over the delicate slope of her shoulders, trailing down the curve of her spine.
It was quiet, save for the rhythmic patter of water against tile.
She stayed there for a while, enjoying the stillness, before reluctantly stepping out and wrapping herself in a thick towel. The cool air nipped at her damp skin as she made her way to the sink, wiping a small patch of steam off the mirror before brushing her teeth. The fresh taste of mint tingled against her tongue, waking her up further as she rinsed and reached for the bottle of lotion she had set aside the night before.
The scent was sweet and fresh, something reminiscent of jasmine and honey, soft yet lingering. She smoothed it over her skin in slow, methodical strokes, relishing the way it left her feeling refreshed.
Once finished, she pulled on the clothes she had placed on the counter the night before, a comfortable yellow sundress, before reaching for a towel and gently squeezing the excess water from her long hair.
It was just as she was wringing out the last few strands when a knock sounded at the bathroom door.
Hinata blinked, momentarily startled.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice softer from the remnants of morning drowsiness.
There was a pause before Sasuke’s voice filtered through the wood, rough but even.
“I’m heading out to run some errands. Do you need anything?”
Her brows lifted slightly in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to ask. But she quickly recovered and shook her head, despite knowing he couldn’t see her. “No, I’m okay. But…thank you for asking.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment, and she assumed he had already walked away.
But then—
She noticed his shadow still beneath the door.
Hinata hesitated, tilting her head slightly.
“Was there something else you needed?” she asked, wrapping her towel more securely around her shoulders.
Another pause.
Then, his voice came, quieter this time.
“I wanted to have lunch with you today.”
Before she could say anything, he continued, almost as if rushing to get the words out.
“If you already have plans, that’s fine. I just—” He exhaled shortly. “Never mind.”
Hinata hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly around the fabric of her towel.
“I already made plans,” she admitted.
Another stretch of silence.
Then, after a moment, Sasuke hummed lowly. “Maybe another time, then.”
His tone wasn’t annoyed. Not dismissive or sharp. Just neutral.
She didn’t know why, but she suddenly wanted to see his face, to read his expression. Reaching for the door handle, she pulled it open without thinking. Her eyes immediately searched his features, expecting some sign of frustration, maybe even annoyance.
But—
He looked normal. His expression was the same as always, cool, composed, his dark eyes steady as they flicked to hers. Not upset. Not irritated. Just Sasuke.
His gaze dipped slightly, briefly taking in the way her wet hair still clung to her damp skin on her neck before shifting back up. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?” he asked again.
Hinata blinked, considering. “…Actually,” she said after a pause, “there is a particular herb I’ve been meaning to buy. Shiso leaves to make tea.”
Sasuke arched a brow. “That’s all?”
She nodded.
“Hn.” He tilted his head slightly, memorizing the name before stepping back. “I got it.”
Then, without another word, he turned and walked away. Hinata watched as he disappeared down the hallway, the soft creak of the front door indicating his departure. She stood there for a moment, fingers still gripping the towel around her shoulders.
Her thoughts drifted back to the night before—the quiet rain, the rhythmic patter against the rooftop as they sat together in silence.
They hadn’t spoken much.
But it wasn’t uncomfortable.
If anything, it had felt…peaceful.
She had shared a memory of her mother during a heavy downpour, something she hadn’t spoken about in years. Sasuke had listened, quiet but attentive, his usual sharp edges softened by the sound of the storm. He hadn’t spoken for a long time afterward, simply staring at the dark sky. Then, after nearly ten minutes of silence, he had hesitantly asked her questions about her mother, about their relationship.
Hinata had been taken aback.
But she had answered because talking about her mother made her happy. It also made her miss her more than she already did. Sasuke must have sensed it, because in his own subtle way, he had tried to lift her spirits. It wasn’t forced, wasn’t anything grand. Just small remarks, small attempts to distract her.
And she had appreciated it.
A soft smile tugged at her lips.
Shaking herself from her thoughts, she reached for her hairbrush, running it gently through her long strands before tying it back loosely. As she stepped out of the room, the scent of something savory drifted into the air.
Her eyes landed on Sasuke, still in the kitchen. He was eating onigiri, one already half-gone in his hand. When he noticed her, he nudged his head toward the table.
“Made extra,” he muttered, tossing the last bite into his mouth. “If you want them.”
Hinata blinked, glancing down. Two perfectly-shaped onigiri sat neatly on a plate, their triangular edges clean and precise. He walked past her, pausing only to repeat the herb’s name for confirmation. When she nodded, he gave a short hum.
“I got it,” he said again, before stepping out the door, closing it behind him with a quiet click.
Hinata lingered for a moment before looking back at the plate. The onigiri were perfect as if made by someone who had spent years perfecting them. Curious, she picked one up and took a bite.
The taste was familiar, but unexpected—tomato paste, subtly sweet and tangy, hidden at its center. She blinked, caught off guard. Then, a memory resurfaced, Naruto’s voice, laughing as he once told her that Sasuke always ate onigiri with tomato in the middle.
She had forgotten all about that. The flavor wasn’t her favorite, but the gesture—
She filed it away for later.
With a quiet breath, she moved to tidy the living room, preparing for her guests.
Today would be the first time she was hosting in a while.
And despite the nervous flutter in her chest—
She was excited.
x-x-x-x
The damp morning air carried the lingering scent of last night’s rain, the sky still a dull gray as Sasuke walked through the village. He ignored the occasional glances sent his way, his mind tangled between irritation and something resembling reluctant reflection.
Last night had been different.
He had run through the downpour like an idiot, gripping that damn umbrella, soaked to the bone, just to apologize, to do something that, for once, wasn’t an argument, wasn’t coldness, wasn’t distance.
And what had he found?
Hinata, drenched, sitting with him.
Kakashi.
Laughing.
And she had been laughing too.
Sasuke exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching at the memory. He had stood there, chest heaving, trying to remind himself that he shouldn’t be angry, that he had no right to be, that they had already talked about this. But seeing her with Kakashi after he had run through the rain like some desperate fool had made his temper flare hotter than it should have.
Still, despite that he had stayed with her under the awning, listening to the rain.
And it had been, nice.
They hadn’t talked much.
But when they did, he had found himself actually listening.
Hinata had shared a memory of her mother, and Sasuke had asked about it, wanted to know more, and chose to keep the conversation going. And when she had gotten quiet, her expression momentarily clouded with longing, he had tried—tried—to ease the moment. In his own way.
And she had smiled.
It wasn’t something he had expected, and yet, it had stuck with him.
They argued too much. Their relationship was volatile, hot and cold, fire and ice.
But he wanted to keep things hot.
Not burning.
Not destructive.
And that meant tempering himself, his irritation, his annoyance, and his frustration when it came to Kakashi.
…To a certain extent.
Sasuke scoffed under his breath, shaking his head as he stepped into a small shop tucked between two larger buildings.
It was a calligraphy shop.
Sasuke strode through the quiet space, the scent of ink and parchment thick in the air. Shelves were lined with scrolls, brushes of varying sizes, delicate ceramic inkpots, and pristine sheets of paper.
His gaze flicked toward the back of the shop, where an older man stood behind the counter, meticulously organizing brushes into a lacquered case.
“Uchiha,” the man greeted without looking up. “You’re late.”
Sasuke leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Got caught up.”
The old man scoffed. “Figures.”
Without another word, he reached beneath the counter and pulled out a sleek wooden box. He set it down and slid it toward Sasuke.
“It’s done.”
Sasuke opened the box, eyes scanning the set of handmade ink brushes inside, each one crafted to precise specifications he had requested. The bristles were firm but soft, the wooden handles engraved subtly with symbols only Sasuke would recognize.
He nodded. “Good work.”
Jiro smirked, returning to his task. “Try not to ruin these like the last set.”
Sasuke scoffed but said nothing, tucking the box beneath his arm. “No promises.”
With that, he turned and walked out, back onto the streets, making his way toward the herbal shop.
x-x-x-x
The scent of dried herbs pressed into the air, thick and unrelenting, sticking to his skin like dampened heat. The shop was small, quiet, the only sound the shuffle of parchment and the muted steps of the clerk organizing bundles of dried roots behind the counter.
It should have been simple.
In. Out. Done.
But Sasuke had barely stepped inside before the temperature in the room shifted, before the weight of someone’s stare started burning a hole into the side of his skull.
His jaw twitched.
He didn’t need to turn around.
Didn’t need to see her.
He felt her presence.
Damn it.
Ino.
Sasuke’s fingers twitched at his sides, but he forced himself forward, scanning the shelves with a focused ease, ignoring the fact that she was standing there, arms crossed, already making her way toward him like she had something to say. He grabbed the shiso leaves Hinata had asked for, his movements precise, controlled, slipping the bundle into his pouch before turning for the counter.
Simple. Efficient.
But Ino?
She had never been either of those things.
“Uchiha,” she greeted, her tone flat, edged with something like quiet disapproval.
Sasuke exhaled slowly, his voice just as dry. “Yamanaka.”
She tilted her head, looking him up and down, arms still folded as she tapped her fingers against her elbow.
"Didn't take you for the type to shop for herbs."
Sasuke didn’t acknowledge the comment, didn’t break stride as he stepped past her. "I'm not."
He felt her eyes follow him, waiting, expectant.
She was baiting him.
Digging, pressing her little sharp nails against a wound she thought was still fresh. But Sasuke had spent years being studied, analyzed, broken down piece by piece by those who thought they knew him. This was nothing new.
He paid the clerk, took the bundle of leaves, and slipped them into his pouch before turning toward the exit.
Done.
Over.
“Sasuke.”
Her voice stopped him, but just barely.
The sound of his name alone felt like an iron claw sinking into his spine, yanking him back into something he had no interest in entertaining.
He should have kept walking.
Should have ignored her.
But before he could, she was stepping in front of him, blocking his way, her blue gaze locked onto his with something sharp, something grating.
"You’re an asshole," she said flatly.
Sasuke barely blinked. "Figured as much."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Oh, don’t do that. Don’t act like it’s just some minor character flaw, like this is just who you are and the rest of us are supposed to accept it."
Sasuke sighed through his nose, patience already stretched thin.
"I kept my mouth shut about you and Sakura," she continued, voice rising slightly. "I shouldn’t have, but I did. And now I have to hear everyone whisper about how poor Hinata was betrayed while you got to have your fun."
Sasuke’s fingers flexed at his sides.
"I already know," he muttered, his tone bordering on a warning.
"Oh, do you?" she shot back, stepping closer, her expression incredulous, irritated. “Do you really? Because I don’t think you do, Sasuke.”
His jaw ticked.
Her voice was grinding against his nerves like dull blades.
She was talking, talking, talking—like she knew everything. Like she had all the pieces, like she had the right to stand here and throw judgment on something that had nothing to do with her.
“Sakura loved you,” she pressed, her words cutting, biting. “She has since she was a kid. And you let her.”
Sasuke clenched his jaw, but didn’t speak.
“You let her believe in something that was never going to happen,” she spat. “You knew your duty, but you still ran to her. She was your comfort and your escape. And Hinata? She didn’t deserve to be stuck with the leftovers of your attention."
That was it. Sasuke’s patience snapped. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them in a fraction of a second, his expression unreadable and cold. Ino’s throat bobbed slightly, but she didn’t step back.
“She’s not stuck,” he said, voice quiet, but edged with something that felt dangerously close to warning not to push him.
Ino’s eyes narrowed. “Then tell me, does she feel like she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be?”
Sasuke didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
Because Ino didn’t know a damn thing.
She hadn’t been there.
Hadn’t been there when he and Hinata had argued, fought, come back together, broken apart, and are still—still—trying. Hadn’t been there when he told Hinata that if he ran into Sakura, he would tell her. That he wasn’t sneaking off, wasn’t chasing after an old past that couldn’t be reclaimed. Hadn’t been there when he had come home, home, every night for the past week, fighting his own instincts, trying to be better.
He had seen Sakura two days ago, and yeah, it had pissed Hinata off enough to cause a fight.
But Ino didn’t know that.
And frankly?
He was sick of people talking about his marriage like they had any idea what was happening inside it.
Sasuke exhaled sharply, a slow, measured breath that barely held back his irritation.
"You think you know everything," he said, voice cold. "But you don’t."
Ino’s brows furrowed, her mouth parting slightly.
"You think I'm still sneaking off to Sakura?” He scoffed. “I haven't been to her place. I haven’t done a damn thing because I’ve been home with my wife."
Her expression flickered as if she hadn’t expected that answer.
But Sasuke wasn’t done.
"I don’t need your approval," he continued, stepping past her. "I don’t need your opinions. You’re pissed for Sakura’s sake, and you’re pissed for Hinata’s sake. But neither of them are your business."
Ino’s hands curled into fists, her frustration radiating like heat off pavement.
Sasuke didn’t care.
He was done with this conversation.
He started to walk away.
“…Are you really done with her?”
The words weren’t sharp this time.
Less accusation, more quiet curiosity.
Sasuke knew who she meant.
Sakura.
His thoughts flickered—
To her voice.
To the way she had always been there.
To the way Sakura had smiled at him, hopeful, still believing in something that should have ended the moment he said, I do.
To the brief moment two days ago when he saw her in the market, the way her voice had softened when she told him she missed him, how, for a second, he had let himself think about what it would be like if things were different.
But they weren’t.
They never would be.
He had spent the last year clinging to something he should have let go of long ago, turning to her when he should have been turning to Hinata. He had spent too much time making excuses, finding comfort in old familiarity rather than accepting the reality of his situation. And maybe—maybe—if he had tried sooner, if he had stopped running, if he had taken the time to know the woman who carried his surname, things wouldn’t have been this fucking complicated.
He was the reason why his wife started to, unknowingly to herself, seek out another man for company because he left her alone to be with Sakura.
He had been the problem.
And he was done being the problem.
Yesterday marked one year of his marriage. One year of excuses, of misplaced anger, of pushing away the one person he should have been trying with.
He wasn’t going to do that anymore.
He wasn’t going to keep hurting Hinata.
He wasn’t going to let Kakashi sweep her off her feet, no matter how much of a perfect gentleman the old man tried to be.
He wasn’t going to let people like Ino reprimand him for his past actions when they had no fucking clue what was happening in the present.
He wasn’t going to go back and forth with Sakura anymore.
His relationship with her had ended a year ago.
But he had been the one who refused to walk away.
He had let temptation fester in the cracks of his resolve, had let himself keep wondering instead of closing the damn door.
But not anymore.
He didn’t want another year like this.
He didn’t want to disappoint his mother, his father, his brother—not in the grave, not in whatever afterlife they resided in.
He was going to do right by Hinata.
And he was going to move forward.
Sasuke swallowed once, slow and deliberate. "Yes."
For a moment, Ino just stared at him as if she were searching. Looking for a lie. But there wasn’t one. Sasuke met her gaze, unwavering, shoulders squaring as he exhaled through his nose. He didn’t care if she believed him or not. Her opinion was irrelevant. Without another word, he turned and walked away.
This conversation was over.
x-x-x-x
The soft murmur of voices outside her front door signaled their arrival just before a sharp knock echoed through the house. Hinata wiped her slightly damp hands on her apron, took a breath, and made her way to the door.
When she pulled it open, four familiar figures stood waiting, their expressions bright and eager.
“Hinata!”
Kiba’s voice rang out first, loud and enthusiastic as he threw an arm around Shino’s shoulder, flashing her a sharp grin. “You took your sweet time. I was starting to think you weren’t gonna let us in.”
Hinata smiled at his antics. “Sorry, sorry. I was just finishing up.” She stepped aside, allowing them entry. “Come in.”
Tenten sighed dramatically as she slipped off her sandals. “It smells amazing. Are you cooking something special?”
Hinata giggled, shaking her head. “It’s not that special.”
Lee beamed, stepping inside. “It is special, Hinata-chan! I have missed your cooking dearly!” His voice was as animated as ever, his eyes practically sparkling. “During our youthful days of training, Neji would always bring your bentos! It was the highlight of our breaks!”
Hinata blushed, pressing a hand to her cheek. “Lee-san, that’s too much…”
“It’s not,” Tenten added with a grin. “It was the one thing we all actually agreed on.”
Kiba snorted as he waltzed toward the kitchen. “See? You should’ve opened a restaurant.”
She shook her head with a small laugh and led them into the kitchen, where she had already prepared a simple spread, warm miso soup, rice balls, crispy vegetable tempura, and lightly pickled cucumbers. The scent of the freshly cooked meal filled the room, making Kiba groan in approval.
“You’re a damn good friend, you know that?” he said, already reaching for a rice ball.
Hinata was about to remind him to be patient, but before she could, he had already stuffed half of it into his mouth.
Shino sighed, shaking his head before pushing a napkin toward Kiba. “At least try to eat like a civilized human being.”
Kiba took the napkin begrudgingly, mumbling something incoherent between bites.
Tenten rolled her eyes, sitting down next to him. “Some things never change.”
Hinata took a seat beside Shino while Lee settled in at the edge of the table. Once they were all comfortable, Kiba leaned back, tapping his fingers against the wood.
“Alright, let’s get to it,” he announced, finally swallowing his food. “We’ve got a party to plan.”
Lee clapped his hands together. “Yes! A celebration worthy of Kiba-kun’s great youthful energy!”
Kiba grinned. “Damn right! I’m going big this year. Everyone’s invited. I already talked to my sis, and we’re having it at the compound—tons of space, and of course, Akamaru gets to be there.”
Tenten smirked. “Because that’s the real reason, right?”
Kiba pointed at her. “You get me.”
Lee nodded eagerly. “And the food?”
Kiba nudged Hinata. “Hinata’s gonna help my sis cook. Which means we’re going to have best food ever.”
Tenten arched an eyebrow, looking at Hinata. “That won’t be too much for you?”
Hinata shook her head, smiling. “Not at all. I enjoy helping.”
“Good,” Kiba said, stuffing another bite of tempura into his mouth. “Because I want this party to be legendary. Everyone that grew up with us is coming.”
The mood shifted immediately.
A weight settled over the room at the unspoken implication of “everyone.”
Shino leaned back “That includes Sakura and Sasuke?”
No one spoke at first.
Hinata stiffened slightly, her fingers pressing against the fabric of her pants. She knew what they were all thinking.
Kiba scoffed, his jaw tightening. “Sakura? Maybe.” His tone was begrudging. “I mean, I don’t know. I don’t see the point of inviting her or Sasuke,” Kiba added flatly, shaking his head. “He’s never given a damn before, so why the hell should I bother now?”
Tenten exhaled. “Not that I disagree, but—”
Kiba cut her off. “No, I mean it. He never shows up. He’s probably got more important things to do—like not being here.”
Hinata swallowed, hating the way her throat felt tight.
Kiba wasn’t wrong about get togethers. Even when they were younger—even when Sasuke was with Sakura, even when she had been dating Naruto—Sasuke rarely showed up to things like this. He wasn’t the type.
“Are you sure about Sakura?” Tenten asked her, breaking the silence.
Hinata hesitated for a beat. Then nodded.
“…We all grew up together. It wouldn’t feel right to leave her out.” Kiba’s sharp eyes flickered to hers, searching for doubt. “You’re sure?”
She nodded again.
He exhaled through his nose before crossing his arms. “Fine. But if she so much as looks at you wrong, I’ll throw her out myself.”
Before she could respond the front door opened. Then shut.
A ripple of confusion passed through the group.
Hinata knew exactly who it was.
But her friends?
Their expressions shifted from curiosity to surprise when they saw Sasuke appeared in the doorway.
The silence was suffocating.
His dark eyes flickered over each person in the room before settling on her.
In his hand, he held a small brown paper bag.
“I got what you wanted,” he said, voice even.
Hinata hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Thank you.”
He stepped forward, placing the bag on the counter before turning back. The weight of the silence grew heavier. His gaze darkened slightly. “What?”
Kiba shifted in his seat, tense and unreadable, but before he could open his mouth, Shino merely said his name.
A warning.
Tenten leaned forward, arms crossed. “We’re just…surprised.”
Sasuke’s gaze flickered to Hinata, then back to the rest of them. He was tense. His jaw clenched slightly. Hinata could feel it—like a storm about to break. So she spoke.
“This is also Sasuke’s home,” she said simply.
The reaction was immediate. Sasuke’s head snapped toward her so fast she almost flinched. Her friends’ expressions froze—as if they hadn’t expected her to say it.
Kiba scoffed, voice sharp. “Didn’t seem like he realized that before.”
Tenten hummed in agreement. “Yeah, seemed like Sakura’s place was more of a home.”
Kiba nodded, taking a harsh bite of his food, his glare unwavering.
Lee exhaled, trying to calm the tension down. “Sasuke-kun, do you—”
Sasuke’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.
“This is our home,” he said, his dark gaze sweeping over them, challenging. “If any of you have something to say, now’s the time.”
The storm hit.
Kiba slammed his hands on the table, standing abruptly. “You wanna know what I think? You’re a selfish bastard who only give a damn when it was convenient for you.”
Hinata’s stomach twisted. Sasuke inhaled sharply, fingers flexing at his sides.
But he didn’t explode.
Instead, his voice was calm, deadly.
“Where am I right now?”
Kiba blinked, confused. “The hell are you talking about?”
Sasuke exhaled. “I’m home. Not with Sakura. Home. With my wife.”
Silence.
The weight of Sasuke’s words had dropped like a stone in the center of the room. Silence stretched long and taut between them all, the air thick with the unsaid. Kiba’s jaw tightened. Tenten’s fingers curled against the edge of the table. Shino remained composed, but the sharp glint in his eye said enough.
Sasuke’s words had stunned them into speechlessness, but it wasn’t satisfaction that flickered across his face. It was something else. A challenge, an expectation. Daring them to say something, to push him.
No one did.
Finally, Sasuke exhaled through his nose and flicked his eyes toward her. His expression was still unreadable, but there was a steadiness in his voice when he spoke.
“If you need anything, I’ll be in the training room.”
It was only a passing glance, but something about it lingered longer than usual before he turned on his heel and left.
The tension in the room did not leave with him.
Hinata swallowed and shifted her gaze between them, Tenten, Lee, Shino. But it was Kiba who held the sharpest glare, the most unrelenting. She didn’t even have time to open her mouth before he abruptly pushed back his chair, the scrape of wood against the floor sounding dangerous in the heavy silence.
“Where’s the training room?”
The words were gritted, filled with frustration and rage simmering beneath the surface.
Hinata’s heart lurched. “Kiba-kun—”
“Hinata,” he cut her off, his voice tight. “Just tell me.”
She shook her head, standing quickly. “Please, just leave it alone.”
Kiba’s nostrils flared. “Leave it alone?” His eyes darkened. “Are you kidding me right now?”
Hinata could feel the protectiveness behind his words, the sheer loyalty that made him furious on her behalf.
“I get it, okay? You’re trying or whatever,” Kiba snapped. “But that asshole doesn’t deserve—”
“Kiba-kun, stop,” she pleaded, stepping forward. “It’s okay. I promise. Please don’t do this.”
But Kiba was already too far gone. His fingers curled into tight fists, his shoulders squared, and his body was practically vibrating with anger.
“If you won’t tell me where he is, fine.” His voice lowered dangerously. “I’ll just track him down myself.”
Then—he turned and walked out. Hinata’s chest tightened. Her feet moved before her mind did, quickly chasing after him, ignoring the calls from Tenten, Lee, and Shino behind her.
She knew that this wasn’t going to end well. Hinata arrived just as Kiba shoved the door open, his presence seething. Sasuke stood across the room, shoulders relaxed, his expression blank, but his eyes?
They were already sharp, already analyzing.
Assessing the threat.
He had been unwrapping the bandages from his hands, probably preparing for actual training, but at the sight of Kiba, he stopped.
A long moment of silence stretched between them. Kiba took a step forward. His glare was unforgiving, cutting, heated—the kind of look a wolf gave before it struck, the kind of look that promised violence.
Like he had waited for this moment.
Like he had been holding this in for too long.
Sasuke exhaled through his nose, unmoved.
"Why the hell are you here?"
Kiba scoffed. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Sasuke looked bored, dragging a hand through his hair before fixing Kiba with an unimpressed stare. "I live here."
Kiba snapped.
"And that's supposed to mean something?! You show up here and suddenly you’re what—a husband now?” His fists clenched. “You’ve been a self-serving bastard for a year—what, did you finally get bored of fucking around with Sakura?"
Sasuke’s jaw locked.
Hinata felt her breath hitch.
The moment Kiba said those words, something invisible snapped in the air.
The tension turned lethal.
Sasuke’s eye twitched.
Kiba took a step forward, voice cutting. “That’s right, huh? You strung Hinata along, treated her like nothing, and the moment things get hard with your little pink-haired plaything, you suddenly want to—”
Kiba didn’t get to finish.
Sasuke moved.
Fast.
Hinata barely registered the flicker of motion before his hand sparked, the distinct, sharp crackle of Chidori roaring to life.
"Sasuke-kun, stop!"
He wasn’t listening.
His body had already moved on instinct, already decided Kiba was a threat, already acted on fury.
Hinata ran.
The moment Kiba stepped forward she threw herself between them. The sudden halt was instantaneous. Sasuke’s Chidori stopped just inches from her face. A breath away.
The energy crackled in the air, the force of it humming against her skin. For a moment, everything stood still. Hinata's white eyes met his. A challenge. A warning. A demand. A plea to stand down.
Sasuke's expression was unreadable, his Sharingan spinning and Rinnegan glowed, his arm locked, his body rigid.
But his eyes—
His eyes flickered.
A moment of hesitation.
A pause.
Then—
The crackling energy dissipated.
His arm lowered, releasing the charge, his fingers curling into a tight fist before dropping to his side.
A breath exhaled sharply from his nose.
Hinata didn’t move.
Didn’t flinch.
Even as Sasuke took a step back, even as he ran a hand through his hair, even as he exhaled again, this time slower, more controlled.
His voice, when it came, was deadly calm.
“Don’t test me again.”
His Sharingan and Rinnegan gleamed as he looked past Hinata, pinning Kiba with a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.
“The only reason you’re still standing is because of her.”
Kiba bristled. “Tch. Like I’m scared of you.”
Sasuke scoffed. “You should be.”
Kiba stepped forward again, but Hinata’s hand shot out, gripping his arm tightly.
“Enough,” she said, her voice firm.
Another heavy silence. Sasuke sighed, shaking his head. "Forget it." He turned, pushing past Lee, Tenten, and Shino, who had been watching from the doorway. "The air in here stinks like dog," he muttered under his breath, earning a low growl from Kiba, who tried to move toward him again—
But Hinata held him back.
And Sasuke?
He didn’t stop.
He was already gone.
x-x-x-x
Sakura moved through the hospital halls with effortless familiarity, her white coat billowing slightly as she walked, clipboard in hand, her thoughts momentarily drowned out by the rhythmic beeping of machines and the soft murmur of voices around her. The scent of antiseptic filled the air, sterile and sharp, but she barely noticed. It was second nature by now—just another part of her world.
Inside the patient room, a young boy sat on the hospital bed, his little hands clenched into fists as he wiped at his face, his mother’s gentle reassurances doing little to soothe his distress. His scraped knee was already cleaned and bandaged, but his lower lip still trembled, and his wide, tearful eyes darted toward Sakura as she approached.
She crouched down to his level, offering him a warm smile, her voice light with reassurance. “I bet you’re pretty brave, huh? Getting hurt just means you were having fun. You must have been doing something really cool.”
The little boy sniffled but straightened slightly, his chest puffing out just a little. “I—I was playing ninja,” he said, his voice still wobbly but filled with determination.
Sakura chuckled, reaching out to ruffle his hair gently. “A future shinobi, huh? Well, even the greatest warriors get a few scrapes. But next time, be careful, alright?”
He nodded, and just like that, the tears were forgotten, replaced by a shy but proud smile. His mother sighed in relief, bowing her head in thanks. “Thank you, Haruno-san. He’s been crying since we got here.”
Sakura waved it off, standing up smoothly. “It’s nothing. He’s a tough one. I have no doubt he’ll be back to training in no time.”
As she left the room, she allowed herself to bask, just for a moment, in the comfort of this—of being needed, of being useful, of making people feel better. She was good at her job. She was respected. Admired. People came to her for help, and she gave it freely, because this was who she was.
But despite all the admiration, despite all the warm smiles and gratitude, despite being adored as one of the best medic-nin in Konoha—it didn’t change the fact that she had spent the last year alienating nearly every single one of her closest friends.
The weight of it pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating, even as she made her way down the hallt.
The change had been slow at first, subtle. But over time, it became impossible to ignore. Ino still spoke to her, but it wasn’t the same. There was a distance now, something unsaid between them that never used to be there. They still met up sometimes, still chatted, still exchanged gossip, but the warmth was muted. It wasn’t the same easy, carefree bond they had once shared.
And Tsunade…Sakura didn’t even need words from her mentor. It was in the hardened glances, in the way her former sensei’s lips would tighten whenever her name was brought up.
And then, there was Kakashi.
She had always thought of him as unshakable, as someone who never let emotions get the better of him. But lately, every time their paths crossed, she could feel his disapproval like a weight pressing into her back. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The rare moments when their eyes met, the look in them was enough.
Then there was Naruto.
The one person who had always, always been by her side, no matter what.
But now?
Now, he kept her at arm’s length, treating her with the same polite detachment that everyone else had begun to adopt. And she knew why.
The moment Kiba caught her and Sasuke together, everything changed. She could still hear his voice, filled with raw disgust, his sharp glare burning into her.
"I knew he was a bastard, but you, Sakura? You’re just as bad."
The words had stung. More than she wanted to admit. Because deep down, she had always told herself that what she and Sasuke were doing wasn’t really wrong. That their feelings were complicated. That it wasn’t black and white. But in that moment, hearing it spoken so bluntly, so harshly, it forced her to see it for what it was.
She hadn’t even been touching Sasuke that day. But they had been close. Too close.
And Kiba had overheard them say the one thing they shouldn’t have.
"I miss you."
"When can I see you again?"
From then on, the entire village knew.
The looks she got from strangers on the streets were one thing.
The pointed whispers, the judgmental stares from wives clutching their husbands’ arms, the occasional snide remark from men passing by—she could handle all of that.
But it was the way her own friends looked at her that truly hurt.
She had overheard Shikamaru and Temari talking one evening about something Tenten had told them. Hinata had been crying.That she had been alone. Because Sasuke hadn’t let go of Sakura. Sakura had felt her stomach twist with guilt, an ugly, suffocating thing that settled deep in her gut.
And maybe that was why, that night, she had finally said it, told him that maybe he should get to know Hinata more. She hadn’t meant it. Not really. So when Sasuke was so against the idea and upset that she’d even suggested it, she wasn’t surprised. Sasuke Uchiha wanted her after all.
But she hadn’t expected him to listen almost a week later. And yet, after that conversation, Sasuke slowly started to change. He stopped coming to her. Stopped lingering. Stopped making excuses to see her. The last time she saw him near her home, he refused to even step inside, even when she tried to pull him inside.
But then she started to see Sasuke out in public. With Hinata. He truly was working things out with her.
Walking with her.
Talking with her.
And Sakura hated it.
She missed him. Missed his attention, missed being the one he sought out.
And she hated herself for it. Because she had once been so happy for Hinata. Had cheered her on when she and Naruto got together.
But now?
Now, she resented her.
For taking Sasuke away.
For being the one he was starting to choose.
And then, just when she thought all hope was lost, fate intervened.
She had run into him at the supermarket, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she had felt a flicker of hope. But even then she saw it. Saw the way he wasn’t the same. Something had shifted in his eyes when he looked at her.
And when she found him training, drenched in sweat, his shirt missing, his skin glistening under the relentless afternoon sun, for a moment, just a fleeting, desperate moment, she felt like she had him back. His breaths came heavy, uneven, his chest rising and falling as beads of sweat slid down the defined ridges of his abdomen, tracing the sharp lines of his muscles. His hair was damp, clinging to his forehead, a few strands falling over his eyes.
But then, the smell hit her.
It was thick, clinging to him like a second skin—the sharp tang of sweat, the musk of exertion, the undeniable musty scent of someone who had been pushing their body past exhaustion without a second thought for hygiene. It should have made her wrinkle her nose, should have made her step back, but she didn’t. Instead, she ignored it, because this was Sasuke, because it had been so long since she had seen him like this, so long since they had been alone together.
And when she finally gathered her courage, reaching out, offering to feed him, her voice light, teasing, hopeful, something in her desperate to bridge the growing distance between them, to feel something familiar, something hers, he barely looked at her.
There was no hesitation, no flicker of amusement, no secretive smirk like there used to be. His dark gaze cut toward her, but only for a second, a fleeting, dismissive glance that sent her stomach twisting. Not fond. Not warm. Not even indifferent.
Annoyed.
Like she was bothering him. Like he wished she weren’t there at all. He was pretending that nothing was wrong. But Sakura wasn’t stupid. She saw it. She felt it. And for the first time in a long time, the realization settled into her chest like a stone sinking to the bottom of a river—
She was losing him.
The hospital walls felt too tight, too suffocating. The air was thick with antiseptic, and the lingering echoes of voices in the corridors grated against her ears. She needed space. A moment to breathe.
Stepping outside, she made her way toward the park near the hospital. It wasn’t too crowded. A few joggers passed by, their rhythmic footfalls blending with the occasional rustling of leaves. A gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh earth, and for a moment, she felt the tension in her shoulders ease.
Her gaze caught on a familiar figure. Sitting alone on a worn-out wooden bench, back hunched slightly, elbows resting on his knees, was Sasuke. His expression was carved into something dangerous.
A deep frown sat heavy on his face, eyes stormy and far away, as if he were silently raging at something unseen. His fingers curled over his knees, knuckles faintly pale from the force. His entire presence radiated fury, so much so that it sent a slight shiver down her spine.
Just like that day.
The day she found him standing in the clearing of a decimated forest, surrounded by scorched, broken trees. Sakura hesitated. Fate had placed him in front of her again. Slowly, she approached, keeping her steps light, careful. When she was close enough, she finally spoke, her voice soft, almost playful.
“Hi.”
Sasuke’s head lifted, his dark eyes flicking toward her. His lips parted as if to say something, but then he just let out a slow exhale.
That…stung.
Not a single word. No greeting. No reaction. Just an exhale.
But she didn’t let it show. Instead, she forced a small smile and sat beside him, keeping just enough space between them.
“We really need to stop meeting like this,” she joked lightly, trying to lift the heavy mood that always seemed to be wrapped around him.
Sasuke barely acknowledged it, tilting his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”
Of course, he didn’t get it.
Sakura laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of her head. “Well the last time I saw you, you were upset. And you sort of burned down half a forest. And now,” she gestured vaguely toward him, “you look just about ready to do it again.”
Sasuke’s frown didn’t deepen, but it didn’t ease either.
Silence.
Something Sasuke had always been good at. Still, she wasn’t letting him off easy. Taking a breath, she tilted her head toward him, her voice lowering just a little. “Don’t lie to me this time. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
His jaw clenched.
She recognized that look.
It was the same look he used to have whenever he was annoyed with Hinata.
A tell.
A sign that he was holding back. Instinctively, her hand reached out, fingers grazing over the firm muscle of his arm. A familiar touch. A gentle coaxing.
“Did you and Hinata get into another fight?”
She felt his body tense beneath her palm. And then, just as smoothly as breathin, he shifted away. The motion was so effortless, so natural, as if it wasn’t even something he had to think about. As if it was a habit.
Sakura’s fingers stilled, hovering in empty space before she quickly dropped them back to her lap, heat blooming against her cheeks.
That was new.
“…No,” Sasuke said flatly.
No?
Sakura blinked.
No?
That surprised her more than the fact that he had moved away from her touch.
“…Really?” She tried not to sound as shocked as she felt.
Sasuke snorted, shaking his head slightly. “You almost sound disappointed.”
Her face flamed. “What? No! That’s not what I meant—”
Damn it.
Sasuke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his fingers loosely interlaced as he stared at nothing in particular. His jaw was set tight, his muscles wound like coiled steel beneath his skin.
Something was eating at him.
Sakura could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, in the sharp, barely perceptible way his fingers flexed against his knuckles. She wasn’t going to let him brush it off.
She turned slightly toward him, watching carefully. “What happened? You can talk to me, you know.” she pressed.
He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Doesn’t matter.” His voice was curt, clipped.
Sakura narrowed her eyes. “Sasuke—”
“We didn’t fight.”
The words came out hard, like he was shutting down the conversation before it could begin.
But there it was again—that shift.
Not in his posture.
Not in his expression.
In his voice.
“I didn’t get into an argument with my wife if that’s what you’re getting ready to ask me.”
Sakura’s breath hitched. She had heard him say it before. So many times before.
But whenever he said “my wife” it has been said always with resentment. Annoyance. Detachment. As if the words bothered him. As if he could barely stomach them. As if he were reminding himself of a cage he never asked for.
But now—
Now, it was different. There was no bitterness. No resentment. There was something else. Something solid, firm. Rooted.
Protective.
Sakura’s fingers curled into the fabric of her skirt. Her pulse pounded in her ears.
She parted her lips, wanting to say something—anything—but her mind was moving too slow, struggling to catch up to the reality of what she was hearing.
Protective?
He had never spoken about Hinata that way before. Never. So why now?The thought made her stomach curl in a way she didn’t like. For a moment, she was so thrown off by the shift in his tone, by the possessiveness laced in those words, that she almost didn’t catch what he said next.
“The mutt.”
Sakura blinked, her brows furrowing slightly. “Wait…The mutt?” she echoed, shaking her head slightly before realization dawned. “Are you talking about Kiba? Is he the reason you’re upset?”
The answer was immediate. Sasuke’s jaw clenched so hard she could see the muscle tick beneath his skin. His fingers dug into his knees, and his breath came out in a sharp, frustrated exhale. He didn’t even have to say it. Sakura knew that look. Knew that anger.
She felt the tension in her shoulders ease, a different kind of emotion creeping in. Kiba must have said something about her. That had to be it.
It made sense.
Sasuke had always been defensive when it came to her. Even weeks ago, when Hinata had looked at her with that unreadable gaze, he had stood in front of her like a shield.
He had always been this way. Protective. Guarded.
It was one of the things she loved about him.
A jolt of satisfaction surged through her chest.
He was upset because of her. Because someone had said something. Because he still cared.
Sakura lifted her chin, watching him carefully. “Did Kiba say something about us?”
Sasuke inhaled sharply, his fingers flexing. “No.”
Her brows furrowed. “Then what?”
But Sasuke didn’t answer. Instead, he abruptly pushed himself up from the bench, his movements stiff, his presence heavy. “If you’re planning on staying, then I’ll leave.” His voice was tight, restrained. “I want to be alone.”
Sakura’s lips parted in protest, but before she could say anything, Sasuke let out a sharp exhale through his nose, rubbing a hand down his face as if he were trying to physically wipe away his frustration. Then, without looking at her, he said, “Not everything is about you, Sakura.”
The words struck like a slap. She blinked, stunned for a moment, thrown off balance by the cold edge in his voice. Her stomach twisted, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. “…What?”
Sasuke finally turned his gaze back to her, dark eyes heavy with irritation. “I thought I told you before, stop fishing.”
His voice was flat and dismissive. Sakura swallowed. There was something incredibly distant about him right now. Something that made her heart clench painfully.
She wanted to argue.
Wanted to demand answers.
Wanted to reach out, grab his wrist, and force him to look at her the way he used to.
But he was already pulling away.
Then, as if realizing how sharp his words had been, his shoulders relaxed just slightly, and he exhaled, slower this time. “…Sorry,” he muttered.
The apology was quiet, almost reluctant, but it wasn’t dismissive.
Sakura barely had time to process it before he turned, his movements brisk, his presence like a storm passing her by. She sat there, watching as he walked away, her chest tight, her hands gripping the fabric of her skirt.
x-x-x-x
Sasuke exhaled sharply through his nose as he walked, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his shoulders tense. The drizzle of rain from earlier had dried, leaving only the lingering scent of wet earth in the air, but it did nothing to ease the simmering frustration still coursing through him.
Kiba.
His jaw clenched at the memory of that idiot standing in front of him, chest puffed out, teeth bared like some damn feral mutt. He could still hear his voice ringing in his ears, sharp and unrelenting, hurling accusations at him like he had any right to judge.
Sasuke had wanted to bury his fist in his face. He had wanted to shut him up, to wipe that self-righteous glare off his stupid, dog-faced expression. He wasn’t actually going to put his Chidori through his skull—of course not. He just wanted to scare him.
But then Hinata stepped in. He scowled at the memory, the way she had moved without hesitation, stepping in front of Kiba like a shield. His Chidori had crackled violently between them, a breath away from her face before his body instinctively shut it down, the surge of chakra dispersing into the air.
His fingers twitched at his sides. Damn it. He had good reflexes. The best. But the fact that she had stood there so firmly, unwavering, looking up at him with those pale, steady eyes, daring him to make another move, it had shaken him.
Sasuke ran a hand down his face, exhaling. He just needed to cool off. That was why he left. He didn’t need to get into another pointless argument. Not with Kiba. Not with Tenten, Lee, or Shino, who all looked like they had their own judgments ready to throw at him. Not with Hinata, who hadn’t even scolded him but had still managed to make him feel like an idiot.
He just wanted to be alone for a while.
And then, Sakura happened.
His pace slowed slightly, his scowl deepening. He hadn’t expected to run into her. Or rather, for her to find him.
Sasuke had seen the disappointment flicker across her face the moment he told her he and Hinata hadn’t argued. She had masked it quickly, tried to pretend it didn’t sting, but he had caught it, that quick downturn of her lips, the slight furrow in her brow.
She had been expecting something else. Expecting him to be miserable. Expecting him to confide in her about how much he resented his marriage, just like he had before. And he knew she had been waiting for it.
Waiting for the opening.
Waiting for him to tell her that it wasn’t working.
That he still wanted her.
That he would always come back to her.
But that moment never came.
And it wouldn’t.
Because despite his irritation, despite the lingering anger simmering from earlier, despite everything—he hadn’t been upset because of Hinata. Sakura had leaned in, just like always, her hand brushing against his arm, soft and familiar, as if she could pull him back in with just a touch.
But he had moved. Subtly. Smoothly. Pulled away before she could latch onto him, before she could weave her words into his mind the way she used to.
And that was when he realized it was going to be harder for Sakura.
She wasn’t going to stop.
She was going to keep assuming. Keep pushing. Keep waiting.
But Sakura needed to understand.
She needed her world to tilt. To shift. To break apart just enough for her to see reality.
Sasuke had no intention of giving her the wrong idea. And if he had stayed there, sitting on that bench, letting her talk, letting her touch him, letting her remind him of what they used to be.
It would have only made things worse. Either she would have pushed him into snapping at her, spilling out all his anger from earlier, lashing out at her simply because she was there, or she would have leaned in even closer, whispered that she missed him again, given him that look that used to weaken his resolve.
And he wasn’t going to test himself against those temptations.
Sasuke let out another slow breath, his muscles loosening just slightly as the weight of her presence finally began to fade.
He was done.
With her.
With Kiba.
With all of it.
All he wanted now was to head home.
It had been hours since he left, and he highly doubted they would still be there. But if they were, he was going to barricade himself in the spare bedroom before he said something he’d regret. He had no patience left, and the last thing he wanted was to stir up another argument with Hinata.
Things had been peaceful.
Awkward, hesitant—sure. Like testing the temperature of water before stepping in, unsure whether it would burn or freeze. But for once, it wasn’t hostile.
Sasuke didn’t want to ruin that.
Still, there was a part of him that worried. Would she be upset with him? He wasn’t naïve. He knew Hinata wasn’t exactly thrilled when he let his temper get the best of him, and she had every right to be frustrated with him for how things escalated with Kiba. He’d let himself lose control, and Hinata had been the one to step between them to stop him from making a mistake.
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
She’s going to be mad.
It was just a question of how mad. As he approached the house, the sky darkened into the earliest shades of twilight. The moment he stepped inside, the air was still, quiet, as if the house itself had been waiting for him to return. His eyes flickered toward the entryway.
Only one pair of shoes.
She was home. Alone.
That was when it happened.
The words slipped out before he could even process them.
"Tadaima."
It had been years since he last said that word. The weight of it hit him all at once. For a moment, just a fleeting second, he felt like a child again, coming home after training, shouting it as loudly as he could, so his mother, his father, and Itachi would hear.
The memory struck so suddenly, so intensely, he almost felt it in his chest.
And then—footsteps.
Quick, hurried, almost as if—
As if she had been waiting for him.
Hinata’s voice followed just as quickly, warm, full of something unspoken.
"Okaeri—"
But the moment their eyes met, it was like the breath had been stolen from both of them. Sasuke stared, his mind catching up with what had just happened.
Hinata stood at the end of the hallway, smiling so brightly, so openly, until realization hit her and then the words died in her throat. The silence that stretched between them was thick, and heavy with something they didn’t know how to name.
Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved.
For the briefest moment, Sasuke saw his own shock reflected in her wide, white eyes.
Then, almost at the same time, they both looked away.
Embarrassed.
As if they had stumbled into something intimate, something unfamiliar, and neither of them knew whether to take a step forward or retreat. Hinata shifted awkwardly, fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeve.
Had she even meant to say it? Sasuke knew he hadn’t and yet, it had slipped out so easily. The quiet stretched between them once more, neither of them acknowledging what had just happened.
Then, Hinata turned away. Her movements were slower now, more measured, as if she, too, was unsure of what to do next. Sasuke followed her into the living room, where she had curled herself into the corner of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, and turned on TV.
He took the seat at the farthest end of the couch, keeping distance between them.
For a while, neither of them said anything.
"Sasuke-kun..."
His jaw tensed.
Here it comes.
He braced himself, fully expecting her to lecture him about what happened with Kiba, about how reckless he had been, how he needed to control his temper, but then she said something he hadn’t been prepared for.
"I was worried you wouldn’t come back."
His brows furrowed.
"What?"
Hinata hesitated, her fingers twitching slightly against her lap. "I thought..." Her voice was quieter now, as if she wasn’t sure if she should be saying it. "I thought you might go back to Sakura-san."
Sasuke blinked, staring at her like she had just said something incomprehensible. "Why the hell would you think that?" he asked, sharper than intended. Was she serious?
"Because…" Her eyes flickered downward. "That’s where you always went before."
Sasuke inhaled sharply, feeling an odd sting at her words. Because she wasn’t wrong.
She wasn’t saying it to hurt him, either. It was simply the truth. He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly.
"I’m not going anywhere." His voice was firm. "I told you I’d be here, didn’t I?"
He meant it. He wasn’t running anymore. He expected her to argue, to say something else about it. Like mentioning that bed situation again. But…
"I’m sorry."
Sasuke stared at her, caught off guard. He had been bracing himself for a fight. But what was happening?
"It’s true that my friends know what I’ve been through because I’ve shared it with them," she admitted, finally looking at him. "And they care about me. They were only being protective. But that didn’t give them the right to be rude to you."
Sasuke didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.
"That being said," she continued, her voice taking on that soft but firm tone staring at him pointedly, "you do need to learn how to control your temper."
He scowled. "That mutt provoked me."
"And he will again," she countered smoothly, not missing a beat. "You have to learn not to take the bite."
He scoffed, crossing his arms, but didn’t argue further. Hinata sighed again, shifting slightly on the couch. "Are you seriously not mad at me?" he asked, skeptical.
"I’m only annoyed that you charged at Kiba with a Chidori."
Sasuke exhaled slowly, his irritation fading into something more like reluctant acceptance.
That was…fair and honestly, not as bad as he was expecting.
Sasuke leaned back against the couch, his arms stretched lazily along the backrest, fingers idly grazing the cushion behind Hinata’s head. Hinata had stopped just as a movie was starting. When he glanced over at her, she looked excited. As the movie started to play, Sasuke could tell it was some overly dramatic, slow-burn romance with a murder mystery twist.
"So let me get this straight," he murmured, breaking the silence. "You didn’t even ask if I wanted to watch this, and now I’m just stuck here?"
Hinata barely spared him a glance, eyes locked on the screen. "You’re not stuck here. You can leave this room and go do something else."
"And let you have the couch all to yourself? Tch." He nudged her shin with his foot, watching the small frown form between her brows. "Besides, how do you know I don’t actually want to watch this? Maybe I like—whatever the hell this is."
Hinata sighed, pausing the movie. "First of all, it’s not just a romance movie. It’s a murder mystery. Second, if you keep talking, I won’t be able to hear anything."
Sasuke smirked, tilting his head toward her. "The only one talking right now is you. Seems like you’re the noisy one."
Hinata shot him a sharp glare before dramatically turning away, grabbing a pillow and using it as a shield between them. "I’ll no longer be listening. I’m focusing on my movie."
Sasuke chuckled under his breath, entertained by her antics. He wasn’t used to this. They had always been either cold, distant, or explosive. But this? These rare moments. He enjoyed it when it happened, even it was always brief. He let her have her moment, waiting a few minutes before he smirked again.
"I bet I can guess who the murderer is."
Hinata scoffed, arms crossing over the pillow. "No, you can’t."
"Yes, I can," he said confidently, stretching his legs out. "You I doubt you could even guess it, so why are you laughing?"
Just as he turned to face her, the pillow slammed into the side of his head.
Sasuke stilled.
Hinata gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "I-I’m sorry!" But then—her gaze flickered toward the side of his head, and her lips trembled.
Sasuke frowned. "What’s so damn funny?"
Hinata pointed at his hair, her body shaking with suppressed laughter. "It’s—it’s just—there must’ve been more static than I thought. Your hair is sticking up on one side. It looks like it’s being pulled by a magnet."
Flustered, Sasuke immediately ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down. "That’s because you chose violence and assaulted me with a pillow."
Hinata’s giggles only grew louder, her shoulders shaking as she failed to contain herself. Sasuke should’ve been annoyed. Instead, he felt oddly at ease.
Without thinking, he suddenly asked, "Do you prefer hot tea or iced tea?"
Hinata blinked at him, caught off guard by the random question. "Um…hot tea, I guess?" Then she narrowed her eyes. "Why? That was out of the blue to ask."
He shrugged. "If we’re working on being friends, shouldn’t we get to know each other a little better?"
Hinata’s expression softened slightly, and after a moment, she nodded. "I suppose so."
"Good," Sasuke said, leaning back again. "Your turn." He expected something simple. A question about food, or colors, something trivial.
Instead, she blindsided him.
"Do you think we’ll ever be happy together?" she asked, her voice quiet, hesitant. "Whether it’s as friends…or if we ever fall in love?"
Sasuke stiffened. The weight of the question settled between them, heavy, pressing.
He hadn’t been expecting that. His fingers tapped idly against his knee. "I don’t know." Hinata’s gaze didn’t waver. She was waiting for something. More.
Sasuke exhaled sharply, eyes flickering toward the screen before settling back on her. "Sometimes, I think we’re too different," he admitted. "There have been moments where I wanted to just walk away and never come back. Fuck the contract. Just leave. Do my own thing."
He could see the flicker of emotion on her face, but she didn’t say anything. "But," he continued, "lately…I’ve been thinking differently."
Hinata’s lips parted slightly, her brows knitting together as she searched his face. Sasuke wasn’t sure why he was saying this. Maybe because he meant it.
"I don’t want to be miserable," he muttered. "And I don’t want you to be miserable, either."
A long silence stretched between them. It should have been uncomfortable. But it wasn’t. Then, before he could overthink it, he moved. His fingers hovered over hers, hesitant. Then, finally, he let his hand rest lightly atop hers. A sharp zap of static crackled between them, making them both recoil slightly.
Hinata’s fingers twitched, about to pull away completely, but Sasuke caught her wrist, keeping her there. His grip was firm enough to let her know not to pull away, yet gentle to let her know it’s okay. His thumb brushed over her knuckles once before he stilled.
"I mean it," he murmured, his voice quieter than before. "I might fuck up a lot. And one of these days, I might punch Kakashi square in the face—" Hinata frowned, opening her mouth to interrupt, but he squeezed her hand gently, pulling her focus back. "—but I’ll keep coming back." He swallowed, his throat tight. "Because I’m not going to give up. Unless you tell me you seriously want me out of your life."
Hinata just stared at him.
Her expression was unreadable.
Then, just as quickly, he let go.
The moment passed.
He leaned back against the couch, exhaling as if nothing had happened.
"Hopefully, it won’t come to that," he added, flicking the tip of her nose before shifting back to his side of the couch.
Hinata blinked, clearly still processing.
Sasuke smirked. "Didn’t expect such a serious question. I was hoping to keep things light."
Hinata’s face curled into something defensive. "I had to know."
Sasuke hummed, amused. "Fine. I’ll give you another turn. But that means you owe me two of your most embarrassing moments."
Hinata gasped, her cheeks darkening instantly. "I—no, absolutely not!"
"I’ll offer one of mine if it helps."
Her gaze narrowed in suspicion. "Three embarrassing stories."
Sasuke smirked, watching her closely. "Alright."
Hinata’s mouth fell open slightly, stunned into silence.
"What? Thought I’d back out?" he asked.
She swallowed. "You can’t be serious right now."
"I’m only willing to tell you because of our situation. Besides as my wife, aren’t you supposed to know me better than anyone?" He lifted his eyebrow up, with a smirk that slowly morphed into a playful glare. "But I’m warning you that my stories don’t leave this house."
Hinata furrowed her brows, as if she didn’t know how to take that statement. But after a long pause, she slowly nodded, a small, hesitant smile forming.
"Alright."
Sasuke tilted his head slightly. "Now, I’m waiting on my question."
The air between them wasn’t suffocating, wasn’t charged with the weight of unspoken resentment or the threat of an oncoming argument. Sasuke didn’t feel like he had to brace himself.
That was rare.
For the past year, it had felt like he was constantly on edge…waiting for the next fight, waiting for the next sharp remark, waiting for his own frustration to boil over. Everything with her had been a battle. Even when they weren’t arguing, there was always an underlying tension, something unspoken lurking beneath the surface, waiting to drag them under again.
But right now, it wasn’t there.
For the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt like he could breathe.
His body had been tense when he came home, shoulders drawn tight from the weight of everything. The fight with Kiba, the confrontation with Ino, the run-in with Sakura, the fucking Chidori that nearly hit his wife square in the face because he let himself get pushed too far.
But now, sitting here, he could finally feel it—the release.
Hinata sat across from him, still looking at him with quiet curiosity, as if she, too, was trying to figure out how they had ended up here. How, in the span of just a few minutes, everything had shifted. He didn’t know how long it would last. He didn’t know if tomorrow, or even the next hour, they would be at each other’s throats again.
But these moments—these small, rare moments where they weren’t fighting, where he didn’t feel like he had to be on guard, where she wasn’t looking at him like he was the worst thing that had ever happened to her—
He never wanted them to end because as much as he could argue, as much as he could fight, as much as he could be cold, stubborn, unbearable at times…Their fights drained him in a way nothing else ever had and if he was being honest, he was exhausted.
So, instead of dwelling on what could go wrong, he let himself settle into the moment, shifting slightly against the couch as his gaze flicked toward the screen and back to her with a teasing smirk.
"So? Are you gonna ask your question or not?"
Hinata, still watching him, hesitated for a second before smiling and finally nodding.
And just like that, they moved forward.