Chapter 8
The scent of warm vanilla and melting chocolate curled through the air, filling the kitchen with a sweetness that felt almost nostalgic. The late afternoon sun poured through the window in soft golden streaks, catching the fine dusting of flour on the counter and the gentle rise and fall of the cookie dough beneath her hands. Hinata moved with quiet purpose, rolling and shaping the dough into even circles, her fingers pressing into the soft surface as she focused on the simple rhythm of baking.
It had been a week and a half since that night. Since the rain. Since Sasuke had run through the downpour to look for her, gripping an umbrella in his hand like some foolish peace offering. Since they sat together beneath the awning in comfortable silence, listening to the rhythmic patter of raindrops against the wooden beams above them. And later, when they had come home, still damp from the rain and strangely unburdened, something had shifted.
That night, they had talked—really talked. Not about the frustrations or obligations that once dictated their every interaction, but about things that didn’t hold weight. He asked her questions—little things, like her favorite season, her least favorite food, if she could only bring three things on a mission, what would they be? He had smirked at her answers, at her soft, determined insistence on defending her choices, and she had found herself smiling in return, drawn into the quiet challenge of it all. In turn, she learned things about him—things he had never shared before. The way his lips twitched before he was about to tease her. How dry his humor was, how unexpectedly funny he could be. And how, when he actually smiled, really smiled, it was as if the tension that usually pulled at his face simply vanished.
The hours slipped away before either of them realized. When the weight of exhaustion settled over them, there had been no fight, no hesitation. He had retreated to his own room, and she had gone to hers, but the quiet in the house had felt lighter.
Now, standing in the warmth of her kitchen, rolling cookie dough beneath her fingertips, she thought about how things had continued to shift since then.
The morning after that night, he had already been gone by the time she woke up, but on the table, next to a half-empty glass of water, was a simple note.
Went to train. Be home later.
It was short. Straightforward. Sasuke wasn’t the kind of man who wasted words. But something about it had made her pause, had made her press her fingers against the paper just to feel the indent of the ink. A small, simple sign that he was trying.
The knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
Wiping her hands against a cloth, she made her way toward the entrance, expecting perhaps Hanabi or one of her friends.
Instead, when she pulled the door open, her breath caught slightly in her throat.
Kakashi stood on the other side.
The late afternoon light slanted across the porch, casting sharp lines across his form. His silver hair, as unruly as ever, caught the sun, a few strands falling over the dark fabric of his mask. His posture was relaxed, but there was something unreadable in his eyes, something that made her hesitate for just a second.
It had been a while since she had seen him.
For a moment, they just stood there, neither of them speaking. A small, uncertain silence stretched between them, not tense but not quite comfortable either.
Then, Kakashi cleared his throat, shifting his weight slightly.
"Hey," he said, his voice as smooth and unhurried as always.
Hinata blinked, still caught in the surprise of his presence. "Kakashi," she murmured, before stepping aside. "Would you like to come in?"
He shifted, as if he was considering stepping inside, but then he stopped. "I actually just came by to give you this," he said, reaching into his pouch. A moment later, he pulled out a familiar book.
Hinata recognized it immediately. It was the same book she had been reading at his apartment that night when he cooked for her.
"You can borrow it," he said, holding it out to her. "Sorry for taking so long to bring it to you."
Hinata took the book carefully, her fingers brushing over the cover. She looked back up at him, studying his face, the way his expression seemed just a little more closed off than usual.
"I hadn't seen you in a while," she admitted softly. "I was wondering how you've been."
Kakashi chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck in that way he always did when he was either amused or avoiding a direct answer. "I’ve been around." His voice was easy, but then his eyes flicked toward her, his gaze more intent. "I’ve been noticing you and Sasuke walking together in the village. Seemed like things were going well. I didn’t want to rock the boat."
Hinata nodded slowly, understanding what he meant. But the truth was, she had missed him. Despite everything, despite the tension, despite the way everything had changed in the last few weeks, she had missed talking to her friend. Still, she kept that thought to herself.
"It has been going well," she said instead.
Kakashi regarded her for a long moment before nodding. "That’s good."
She glanced down at the book, then back at him. "Are you sure you don’t want to come in? I’m baking cookies, and Sasuke-kun doesn’t like sweets. I wouldn’t mind sharing them with you."
She barely had time to process the words before realizing what she had just said. Her lips parted slightly in realization, her cheeks heating as she quickly backtracked. "Oh! I forgot. You don’t like sweets either. I’m sorry."
Kakashi’s head tilted slightly, his visible eye curving in amusement. “You must really miss me if you’re trying to lure me in with cookies.”
Hinata immediately felt the heat rise to her cheeks. “That’s not—” She exhaled sharply, composing herself before continuing, her voice firm. “I wasn’t doing that.”
His chuckle was slow, drawn out, and entirely unbothered. “Are you sure?” he mused, shifting his weight. “Because I could swear I just heard you all but beg me to come inside.”
Hinata’s fingers tightened slightly around the book he had handed her. “I wasn’t begging.”
“No?” Kakashi said, voice deceptively innocent. “Then what was that look just now?”
Hinata’s lips parted, at a loss. She hadn’t realized she had been looking at him a certain way. Had she? She quickly schooled her expression, forcing herself to focus, to not let herself get swept up in his teasing so easily. “You’re being difficult on purpose,” she said, exhaling.
Kakashi grinned beneath his mask. “Only a little.”
She sighed, pressing the book lightly against her chest, using the solid weight of it to steady herself. He always did this—riled her up just enough to see her squirm, then let it go just before it became too much. But today, something about it felt different.
Not his words.
Not his tone.
But something she couldn’t quite place.
The space between them felt...shifted. As if he was deliberately holding a part of himself back.
It wasn’t obvious. Not in the way he spoke, nor in the way he looked at her. But there was something. A subtle barrier. One that hadn’t been there before.
The realization unsettled her.
"That said…" He glanced past her for a moment before shifting his attention back. "I have a feeling I shouldn’t come inside."
Hinata blinked at him, confused. "Why?"
Kakashi didn’t answer right away. He simply studied her, his eye half-lidded in thought. Then, with a casual ease, he said, "If you want, we could go to that café again instead. I wouldn’t mind the company."
Hinata hesitated.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go. But things had changed, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, something about Kakashi’s presence now made her pulse quicken just a little more than before.
Still, she nodded. "Alright."
Kakashi’s eye curved slightly, pleased. "Alright," he echoed.
“I have to finish baking the cookies before I go anywhere. But I’ll meet you at the café once I’m done.”
Kakashi hummed, as if considering something. Then, slipping his hands into his pockets, he rocked back on his heels. “I’ll just linger around for a bit then. When you’re finished, you can just meet me at the awning instead of the cafe.”
Hinata blinked, briefly thrown by the unexpected mention of it.
The awning.
The place where they had stood together that night in the rain. The place where she had laughed with him, soaked through, the warmth of his presence keeping the cold from settling too deep.
She forced herself not to dwell on it, nodding instead. “Alright,” she murmured.
His eye softened slightly before he nodded in return. “See you soon then.”
And with that, he stepped back, giving her one last unreadable glance before turning away.
x-x-x-x
Kakashi walked at a steady pace, hands tucked into his pockets, posture relaxed, but his mind was far from it. Seeing Hinata again had done something to him, something he hadn’t been prepared for.
He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her until she stood in front of him, soft-spoken and warm-eyed, just like she always was.
And that was the problem.
She was still Hinata. Still kind. Still gentle. Still willing to welcome him inside despite everything. And it was getting harder and harder to keep his distance when all he wanted to do was step forward.
Kakashi sighed, shaking his head. It was good. Really, it was. Things between her and Sasuke were working out. Or, at the very least, moving in the right direction. He should’ve been happy for her.
And he was.
But another part of him, one he wasn’t proud of, couldn’t ignore the pang of jealousy that sat heavy in his chest. He wanted to be the one she confided in. The one she walked beside. The one she—
Kakashi exhaled slowly. No.
He wasn’t going to do this to himself.
Instead, he shifted his focus, scanning the streets in an attempt to distract himself. And that was when he saw him.
Sasuke.
The younger man was standing a few feet away, in front of a bakery, his dark eyes narrowed, shoulders tense.
Kakashi arched a brow, watching as Sasuke hesitated, staring at the entrance with something that almost resembled nervousness.
Strange.
The Uchiha took a step forward, then another, as if forcing himself to go inside, but then, just as quickly, he stopped. His frown deepened, and without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, his expression unreadable.
Kakashi hummed in thought, but before he could linger on it, a loud, all-too-familiar voice rang through the air.
“Kakashi!”
His eye twitched slightly.
Of course.
Turning his head, he spotted Gai rolling toward him in his wheelchair, waving enthusiastically.
“Gai,” Kakashi greeted, his voice a touch more weary than he intended.
Gai beamed. “What a wonderful afternoon to run into you, my eternal rival! Surely, this must be fate!”
Kakashi barely resisted the urge to rub his temples. “Fate, huh?”
“Yes!” Gai nodded fervently. “I was just on my way to enjoy a well-earned meal at my favorite BBQ spot and thought, ‘What would make this day even better? Ah! A meal shared with my dear friend, Kakashi!’”
Kakashi tilted his head, amused. “And here I thought you just ran into me by chance.”
“Nonsense! There are no coincidences, only the burning flames of destiny guiding our paths!” Gai declared dramatically, his fist clenched with conviction.
Kakashi sighed, already knowing where this was going.
“Well, as tempting as that sounds,” he said, his tone light, “I already have plans.”
Gai gasped, his eyes widening. “You? Have plans?”
Kakashi raised a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you don’t do much of anything,” Gai said bluntly, shaking his head. “You live such a mundane life, my friend! Always reading, always disappearing when there’s a social gathering. When was the last time you truly indulged in the youthful joys of companionship?”
Kakashi exhaled through his nose, humoring him. “I do things.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“…Things.”
Gai squinted at him suspiciously. “That’s not an answer.”
Kakashi gave a lazy shrug. “It’s the only one you’re getting.”
Gai sighed dramatically, slumping slightly in his chair. “Ah, what a shame. I had high hopes that today, you would finally embrace the joys of camaraderie with a hearty meal!”
Kakashi chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe next time.”
Gai perked up at that. “You promise?”
Kakashi smirked beneath his mask. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint my eternal rival, now would I?”
Gai grinned, pointing a determined finger at him. “Good! Then it’s settled! Next time, no excuses!”
“Next time,” Kakashi agreed, turning slightly. “But for now, I really do have to go.”
Gai waved him off. “Fine, fine. But don’t forget! I’ll hold you to it!”
Kakashi lifted a hand in farewell before heading toward the awning, his thoughts already drifting back to the person he was actually waiting for.
x-x-x-x
Kakashi reached the awning, settling onto the bench with a quiet sigh. The book slid easily from his pocket, the worn pages folding beneath his fingertips as he reopened Icha Icha Tactics to a familiar passage. He had read it so many times that the words imprinted themselves in his mind, but somehow, every reread revealed something new—subtle nuances in the dialogue, emotions layered between the lines. Jiraiya had always been a master of understanding people, of peeling back the complexities of human nature and weaving them into something real.
Kakashi envied that a little.
The book offered a welcome distraction, but the moment he felt her presence approaching, his attention wavered.
Hinata walked toward him, her white sundress catching in the soft afternoon breeze. The sunlight filtered through the fabric, casting delicate shadows along the folds. A neatly tied purple bow sat at her waist, accentuating the gentle curve of her figure. It wasn’t extravagant, nor did she wear any elaborate accessories—yet, as always, she had a way of making simplicity look effortlessly beautiful.
His gaze traced her for a moment longer than necessary before he caught himself and shifted back to her face.
She smiled when their eyes met.
Kakashi tucked the book away and stood, brushing imaginary dust from his pants. “Ready?”
Hinata nodded, her hands folded neatly in front of her. “I am.”
They fell into step together, the rhythm of their footsteps settling into something unspoken. The air between them was light, easy. It reminded him of the past—of long conversations shared over tea, of casual banter exchanged without the weight of unspoken things pressing between them. But now, there was something else. A quiet awareness. A shift neither of them openly acknowledged.
As they turned onto the next street, Kakashi glanced down at her. “You look pretty.”
Hinata’s fingers twitched slightly, as if resisting the urge to fidget. A soft blush crept across her cheeks, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh…thank you.”
Kakashi hummed, watching the way her gaze momentarily dropped to the ground before she looked forward again.
After a moment, he asked, “So, things really have been going well?”
Hinata gave a small nod. “Yes. Better than before.”
He tilted his head slightly. “That’s good. You two seem…closer.”
Hinata hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “We’re still learning. But it’s been nice.”
Something in her tone made Kakashi glance at her a little longer than necessary. She looked peaceful. Not hesitant or weighed down like usual whenever Sasuke’s name was mentioned, but at ease, as if the tension that had always lingered around her had finally begun to lift.
It was a good thing.
And yet, for reasons he didn’t want to examine too closely, he felt an uncomfortable tightness in his chest.
“I’ve missed you.”
Hinata faltered slightly mid-step, her head turning toward him in quiet surprise.
Kakashi kept his expression neutral, his voice carrying none of the weight behind the words. He didn’t elaborate, didn’t give her time to read into it too much. “There were a lot of times I wanted to see you, but I figured I’d be overstepping.”
She remained silent, absorbing his words before she responded. “Sasuke-kun told me he didn’t mind me spending time with you,” she said softly. “Just…not at night.”
Kakashi’s brow lifted slightly at that. “Not at night?”
She shook her head.
His smirk was slow, teasing, as he leaned in just a fraction. “If I had to guess…it’s probably because he doesn’t want his wife sneaking off in the middle of the night with another man.”
The effect was immediate. A deep red flushed across her face, trailing down her neck as she whipped her head away from him.
Kakashi chuckled, letting the moment linger just long enough before easing off. There were limits to how much he could tease her now, and though he enjoyed her reactions, he knew better than to push too far.
Still, he couldn’t help himself.
“It’s a reasonable request,” he added, the amusement in his voice barely concealed. “I’ll respect it.”
Hinata pressed her lips together, clearly trying to recover from the embarrassment. Kakashi let the silence settle, watching her from the corner of his eye.
There was distance between them now, one of her own making. He could see it in the way she carried herself around him, the way she carefully weighed her words, as if she were suddenly aware of something that hadn’t existed between them before.
A barrier.
It was for the best.
And yet, the moment she had opened that door earlier, the second he saw her standing there in the soft glow of her home, he had felt it.
The pull.
The ache.
The sharp reminder of just how much he had missed her.
x-x-x-x
The cafe was warm, the scent of freshly ground coffee beans mixing with the faint sweetness of pastries. The low murmur of conversations filled the air, and just outside, the cicadas hummed their afternoon song. It was familiar, comfortable, and yet—something about today felt different.
Kakashi sat across from Hinata at the same table they had shared before. The sunlight filtering through the covering cast a glow over her features, highlighting the delicate slope of her nose and the way her soft lavender eyes focused intently on the cup in her hands.
He found himself watching her.
It wasn’t intentional. Not really. But there was something soothing about the way she carried herself, how her fingers curled gently around the ceramic, how she took slow, thoughtful sips of her mocha latte.
It felt good to be in her presence again.
Too good.
It wasn’t until he caught the slight shift in her posture, the way her gaze flickered downward, a hint of pink dusting her cheeks, that he realized—he had been staring.
Kakashi blinked, forcing himself to straighten as he cleared his throat. “Ah…sorry.”
He reached for his own cup, tugging his mask down just enough to take a sip. The bitterness of the coffee spread over his tongue, grounding him, but when he set the cup back down, he noticed something.
Hinata wasn’t looking.
In fact, she was doing everything in her power not to look.
Her face was impossibly red, her eyes stubbornly locked onto her latte as if it held the secrets of the universe.
Amused, Kakashi chuckled under his breath and pulled his mask back up. “Should I not take it off around you anymore?”
Hinata’s shoulders stiffened slightly. “It’s fine,” she murmured, but still refused to meet his gaze.
Kakashi tilted his head, watching her carefully. “Are you sure? I know it flusters you.”
It wasn’t a cocky statement, just an honest observation. She had always reacted this way.
Her hands fidgeted around her cup before she finally lifted her eyes to his, a small but determined smile forming. “It’s fine,” she repeated, firmer this time.
And then—
Something happened.
Something subtle.
Their eyes locked, and for the first time in longer than he could remember, Kakashi felt himself caught in a moment he didn’t quite know how to navigate.
It wasn’t just that she was looking at him.
It was how she was looking at him.
The din of the cafe faded into background noise. The cicadas outside droned lazily in the distance. People passed by, their voices mixing into the hum of the city, but none of it reached him.
All he could focus on was her.
And how much he had missed her.
His fingers tightened slightly around his cup, but his voice remained light when he spoke. “I’m really happy to see you again.”
Hinata blinked, as if snapping out of whatever spell had fallen over them. The warmth returned to her face, but this time, it was paired with something softer, something more familiar.
She smiled. Kakashi let out a slow breath behind his mask, letting the moment settle.
Then, just to break the lingering tension, he leaned forward slightly, voice dipping into something playful. “So…does that smile mean you’ve been missing me too?”
Hinata let out a small, startled laugh, hiding her face behind her sleeve. “Kakashi…”
“Come on,” he teased, resting his chin on his hand. “I admitted it. It’s only fair.”
She peeked at him from behind her sleeve, her lips pressing together as if trying to hold back a smile. “Maybe,” she said finally, her voice quiet but sure.
Kakashi chuckled again, shaking his head. “I’ll take that.”
The conversation flowed easier after that, the weight from earlier lifting just enough to let them settle into something light, something familiar.
Something that almost—almost—felt like before.
x-x-x-x
Sasuke stared down at his busted knuckles, flexing his fingers slightly as the dull ache set in. The skin around his knuckles had split open in nasty, jagged cuts from the repeated blows against the training dummy. The deep gashes oozed crimson, staining his fingertips as he curled his hand into a loose fist before unclenching it again.
Tch.
He had been training nonstop for the past two hours, pushing himself well past the point of exhaustion. He didn’t have many hobbies, didn’t have much to occupy his time. Training was the only thing that kept his mind from wandering into places he’d rather not go. He could train for hours, days even, if his body would allow it.
But now, he was depleted.
His muscles burned from overuse, and his chakra reserves were dangerously low—too low to heal himself, not that he was particularly skilled at medical ninjutsu anyway. He grunted, annoyed with himself, but more so with his own recklessness. If he had paced himself better, he wouldn’t have torn up his hand like this.
He debated going to the hospital, but the moment the thought crossed his mind, another immediately followed.
Sakura.
If she caught wind that he was there, she’d come to him. She’d heal him herself, just like she always had, and he didn’t trust himself enough to let that happen.
He knew himself. Knew the lingering feelings that still clung to the corners of his mind, refusing to disappear entirely no matter how much he willed them to. He also knew how much it would hurt Hinata if she found out he’d gone to see Sakura for help, and he didn’t want that.
Not after how much she had already put up with.
Things had been…better. Not perfect, not even close, but there had been no major fights in the past week and a half. It was the longest stretch of peace they’d had since this marriage began. Sure, there were moments she irritated him—her annoying habit of having to get the last word in, the way she could be passive-aggressive when she wanted to be, how she somehow always managed to maneuver herself into situations where he felt like he was the one in the wrong—but overall…
She wasn’t so bad to be around.
He had learned things about her. Small things. Like how she liked to hum while she cooked, completely unaware of it. How she curled her toes slightly when she was getting comfortable on the couch. The way she would get strangely competitive over the most trivial things, like the correct way to fold laundry or whether a cloud looked more like a dog or a ship.
He also noticed how much she smiled more now.
Not that he was paying attention or anything.
The nights, though, were still a bit awkward. Going to separate rooms, closing their respective doors—it was an odd feeling. He wasn’t itching to share a bed with her, not exactly, but the way things stood now, it just felt…off. There was no telling how long it would take before she was even comfortable with the idea. And honestly? He didn’t know how he felt about it either.
With a sigh, he tore his gaze away from his injured hand and decided to just wrap the wound in bandages. No sense in dwelling on it.
He left the training grounds and made his way back into the village, weaving through the streets that were more crowded than usual. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the buildings, but the energy of the village was still buzzing. Too many people. Too much noise.
Something was going on.
Sasuke kept moving, maneuvering through the throng of villagers until he spotted the source of the commotion.
A vendor stand, swarmed with couples.
He sucked his teeth, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth in irritation. The stand was decorated with vibrant ribbons and banners, advertising some kind of couple’s trinket, and the swarm of people fawning over it clogged the entire walkway.
Ridiculous.
He pushed his way through, shouldering past people who were too preoccupied with their giddy excitement to notice they were blocking the entire damn street.
Then, he bumped shoulders with someone.
"Hey, watch it, asshole—!"
Sasuke turned sharply, his Sharingan instinctively flickering to life, ready to glare down whoever had the nerve to yell at him—only to meet a pair of familiar slitted eyes.
Kiba’s.
The hot-tempered Inuzuka’s scowl vanished almost immediately, his mouth hanging open in surprise before his lips twisted into a smirk.
“What the hell?” Kiba’s brows furrowed. “What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you actually came to this thing with Hinata?”
Sasuke scoffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “No.”
Kiba’s smirk widened. “Then what, you just happened to be here in the middle of a crowd of lovebirds?”
Sasuke ignored him, but it was only then that he realized—Kiba wasn’t alone.
Sasuke’s gaze drifted briefly toward the young brunette standing just behind Kiba, watching as her eyes curiously flicked up at him. Tamaki. He vaguely remembered her—images from distant, scattered moments in his childhood and even some brief instances from his days wandering through the outskirts with Hebi. She was faintly familiar, but beyond that, Sasuke knew next to nothing about her. His attention lingered for only a heartbeat longer before returning to Kiba.
“What’s all this about?” Sasuke asked, voice cool and slightly irritated as he nodded towards the crowd of couples buzzing around the vendor stalls.
Kiba, clearly uncomfortable being alone with Sasuke after their last interaction, rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Ah, some kinda couple’s thing Tamaki really wanted to check out. Supposed to bring good luck or something—charms, fortunes, that kind of thing. She, uh...she really wanted to come, so here we are.”
Sasuke noticed Kiba’s tone wasn’t as sharp as before; in fact, the dog-nin almost sounded civil. Hinata probably had a hand in it. Sasuke fought the urge to smirk at the thought but kept his expression neutral, merely nodding.
“Tamaki,” Kiba turned slightly toward his companion, his voice gentler now, “mind finding us a good spot? I'll catch up in a second.”
Tamaki nodded shyly, her cheeks tinged faintly pink as she briefly met Sasuke’s eyes again before turning and disappearing into the crowd.
The moment she was out of earshot, Kiba’s demeanor shifted, his eyes narrowing as he turned fully to Sasuke. “You here alone? Or is Hinata around somewhere?”
Sasuke felt his irritation spike again, catching the implication immediately. He knew exactly what Kiba was doing, trying to sniff out Sakura’s presence. He swallowed his annoyance, maintaining a cold, unreadable expression.
“I’m alone,” he said flatly, meeting Kiba’s gaze head-on. “This path leads back to my house. It’s not like I’m here willingly.”
Kiba narrowed his eyes suspiciously, leaning closer with arms crossed defiantly over his chest. “And Sakura? Sure you’re not meeting up with her here again? I won’t hold back this time if I find out you’re—”
Sasuke’s patience snapped, his jaw tightening visibly as he stepped forward, eyes narrowing sharply. “I thought I made it clear already. Home means home. My home—with Hinata. Not Sakura. I haven’t seen Sakura alone since that one day nor have I sought her out, and it's not your damn business anyway, Inuzuka.”
Kiba hesitated, blinking back surprise, clearly not expecting the intensity in Sasuke’s voice. He opened his mouth, probably to retort, but Sasuke’s glare warned him against it.
“I’m not going to explain myself to you every time we cross paths,” Sasuke continued, voice low and simmering with tightly controlled anger. “Hinata’s your friend—fine, I get it. But my marriage is my business, not yours. Get that through your thick skull.”
Kiba, visibly biting back his own anger, lifted his hands in a reluctant gesture of surrender. “Fine, fine, relax. I just wanted to make sure. Hinata’s been through enough already; I don’t wanna see her hurt again. Not by you.”
Sasuke’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but he managed a sharp inhale, calming himself just enough not to snap further. Instead, he stepped back, clearly signaling he was done talking.
“Are we finished?” Sasuke asked flatly.
Kiba sighed, relenting. “Yeah, whatever. But for the record—if you actually cared about her, you’d bring her around here sometime when it’s not so crowded. She likes stuff like this. She’s quiet, but she’s a hopeless romantic underneath all that shyness.” He paused, holding Sasuke’s gaze steadily. “Just something to keep in mind, Uchiha.”
Sasuke didn’t respond, only watched as Kiba turned back toward Tamaki, who waited patiently nearby, casting an occasional curious glance back at them. With an irritated exhale, Sasuke turned in the opposite direction, away from the noisy crowd and the obnoxious couples.
He’d been toying with the idea of buying something for Hinata, a gesture of peace after their rocky interactions. He remembered passing a bakery earlier, debating whether or not to stop inside. The sugary sweetness had turned his stomach before, but now, after dealing with Kiba and the prickling frustration he left in his wake, Sasuke decided he’d endure it. He wanted to see her smile, wanted something else to occupy her mind besides the inevitable questions she’d ask about his run-in with Kiba.
Determined, he approached the small bakery. The scent of sugar hit him the moment he opened the door, an overwhelming wave of warm vanilla and baked goods assaulting his senses. He grimaced slightly but pushed through, eyes scanning the glass cases filled with pastries, cakes, and sweets he couldn’t name.
Behind the counter stood a young woman, her eyes brightening in recognition at seeing him enter. “Welcome!” she chirped cheerily, “How can I help you today?”
“I—” he hesitated, eyes flicking around the shop before landing on a tray of small cinnamon buns. “Do you still have those cinnamon buns?”
“Of course!” Her smile widened, welcoming and warm. “We have a set of a dozen mini ones for five hundred ryo. Would you like them warmed?”
Sasuke hesitated, unsure what Hinata might prefer. But then again, who liked cold sweets anyway? “Yeah, warmed is fine.”
She nodded brightly, disappearing briefly into the back to prepare the order. Sasuke waited in silence, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms. The soft jingle of the door opening again caught his attention. He glanced up casually at first, but his body immediately tensed upon seeing Sakura step inside.
She hadn’t noticed him yet, cheerfully greeting the baker in the back, her voice light and casual. Sasuke stayed motionless, hoping she might not turn around, might not see him there and—
Too late.
Her eyes flicked his way and widened instantly in surprise. “Sasuke-kun?”
He kept his face carefully neutral. “Sakura.”
She stared at him awkwardly, obviously unsure of what to say next. Sasuke decided to spare them both the awkward silence. “Picking up something for Hinata,” he said simply, voice guarded but civil.
“Oh,” Sakura said, clearly startled, forcing a smile. “Did she ask you to?”
“No,” Sasuke said, feeling slightly defensive now. “It was my idea.”
Sakura’s smile faltered, just slightly. Something flickered across her face, an emotion Sasuke didn’t want to name, didn’t care to name.
But before either of them could say anything else, her gaze flickered downward. Her expression shifted instantly, eyes widening.
“Sasuke-kun,” she gasped, reaching out before he had a chance to react. Her fingers brushed against his wrapped hand. “What happened?”
He pulled away instinctively, jaw tightening. “It’s nothing.”
Sakura frowned, eyes darting over the bandages. “It’s not nothing! You’re bleeding through the wrap!”
Sasuke exhaled sharply through his nose, willing himself not to show how much it actually hurt. The dull, throbbing pain had been easy to push aside while walking, but now that she mentioned it, it was all he could focus on.
Sakura’s lips pressed together, her concern deepening. “You need to be more careful.”
“I’m fine,” he snapped.
She wasn’t convinced. “Sasuke-kun, let me heal it.”
“No.” He glared, taking a step back. “It’s not necessary. Once I rest, I can do it myself.”
Sakura’s fingers curled at her sides, uncertainty flashing across her face. She chewed her lower lip, hesitating before reluctantly stepping back.
“…Alright,” she said quietly.
Sasuke could feel her eyes lingering on him, but he refused to meet her gaze. His pulse felt too loud in his ears, his patience wearing thin.
He just wanted to go home.
The baker returned with his order, and Sasuke stepped forward, quickly paying. He felt Sakura’s eyes burning into his back but ignored them, murmuring his thanks and grabbing the pink box, turning toward the door. As he stepped outside, he released a tense breath, only to hear the chime of the door opening again behind him. Sakura had followed him out.
“Sasuke-kun, wait,” she called, her voice hesitant. “Are you...going to Kiba’s birthday party next week? He invited everyone, and I just thought—”
Sasuke paused, half-turning toward her. “Probably not,” he admitted flatly, avoiding her eyes.
Sakura’s expression fell slightly, her disappointment evident. “I was hoping you’d be there. I know it’ll be awkward, but it'd be nice to have someone to talk to.”
He considered her words, almost softened by the vulnerability on her face, but only briefly. He shook his head. “You’ll have Naruto there. Talk to him.”
Her eyes lowered, voice quiet now. “Naruto hasn’t really been talking to me much lately, so…”
The words hung in the air between them. Sasuke felt the old pull toward her, faint and familiar, but he pushed it back, keeping his resolve firm. “I can’t,” he finally said, his voice quiet but resolute. “It won’t look right, considering the circumstances.”
He left before she could respond, stepping out into the fresh air. His chest felt tight, burdened by the weight of the conversation. And just as he looked up, his eyes caught another unexpected sight—Hinata walking down the street beside Kakashi, of all people.
Sasuke stiffened, jaw clenching reflexively. Just when things were starting to feel manageable. He swallowed down the flare of jealousy, forcing himself to approach calmly. He had no right to anger right now, not after what just happened with Sakura. But as he walked toward them, his hand tightened around the box, determined to handle this the right way for once, for her sake if no one else’s.
Sasuke carefully masked his irritation, focusing instead on maintaining his composure. He approached calmly, but his eyes were locked sharply onto Kakashi. The older shinobi seemed unbothered, his posture relaxed, his visible eye creasing into its usual carefree half-moon shape as he gave a casual wave.
“Sasuke, Sakura,” Kakashi greeted evenly, his gaze drifting between the two of them before settling pointedly back onto Sasuke. “Nice evening.”
Sasuke suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, acknowledging his former sensei with a stiff nod before glancing down at Hinata. He felt his chest tighten when he caught the flicker of confusion in her eyes, the subtle shift as her gaze darted between him and Sakura. The silence stretched painfully, filled with unspoken questions and assumptions he was already too tired to clarify.
Sakura quickly spoke up, clearly uncomfortable with the tension. “Oh, um—I just ran into Sasuke at the bakery. Pure coincidence, nothing planned.”
Hinata only nodded, her eyes flickered downward, a slight furrow creased her brow, subtle but telling.
Hinata's gaze dropped to his hand, her brows drawing together as her lips parted slightly. Her fingers twitched at her sides, hesitating for only a moment before she finally spoke, her voice softer than usual, careful, almost hesitant.
“…Your hand.”
Sasuke didn’t answer. He had no intention of making a big deal out of it, and he certainly didn’t need another lecture. But before he could react, she stepped closer, reaching out. The moment her fingers wrapped gently around his wrist, pain shot through his knuckles, sharp and immediate. He flinched, just barely, but Hinata caught it. Her pale eyes lifted to his, searching.
“Does it hurt?” she asked softly.
Sasuke only grunted, turning his face away, his pride refusing to let him admit anything, especially with Kakashi standing right there, watching.
Hinata sighed, shaking her head like she was scolding a child. “You shouldn’t train so recklessly.”
Sasuke barely had time to react before a soft, warm glow of purple chakra enveloped his hand. He tried to pull back, irritated. “It’s fine. You don’t have to—”
“Be quiet,” she muttered, just under her breath.
He stiffened, barely suppressing a scoff. His jaw clenched, but he said nothing as she continued healing him, her grip firm yet careful, her fingers light against his skin.
Forcing himself to look away, his gaze landed on Sakura. Her green eyes were locked onto Hinata’s glowing hands, her expression frozen, lips pressed together. He could see the moment she realized what was happening. When she understood that he had refused her help only to accept Hinata’s without hesitation.
She averted her gaze, but it was too late. The hurt was evident, jealousy simmering beneath the surface.
His gaze flicked briefly to Kakashi. The older man’s face was unreadable, casual as ever, but Sasuke wasn’t fooled. There was a stiffness in his posture, a tension in his shoulders, as if he were schooling his expression too carefully. His eyes lingered on the connection between Sasuke and Hinata, calculating. Sasuke wanted to say something, a sharp remark lingering on his tongue, but he held it back. Not here. Not with Sakura watching.
The warmth of Hinata’s chakra faded. Sasuke turned his hand, unwrapping the bandages with ease. The deep, jagged cuts that had split his knuckles open were completely gone.
He flexed his fingers experimentally. No pain. No soreness. As if the injury had never happened.
His eyes lowered to Hinata, who had already taken a step back.
“Be more careful next time,” she said. Despite the sternness, there was an unmistakable trace of worry woven into her tone, the same quiet concern he had heard from Sakura earlier.
For a moment, he only stared at her. Then, muttering a quiet, “Thanks,” he held out his hand, fingers wrapping around the small pink box.
Hinata’s expression remained carefully neutral, but Sasuke saw the slight shift in her eyes, uncertainty, doubt, maybe a hint of disappointment? Hinata sometimes made it hard for him to read her. He gritted his teeth, suddenly embarrassed by how this looked.
Glancing away briefly, Sasuke exhaled sharply and extended the box toward her, not quite meeting her gaze.
“Here,” he said bluntly, though his voice softened noticeably as he spoke to her. “I picked something up for you.”
He felt her gentle fingers brush against his own as she accepted the box, and he reluctantly glanced at her, noting the surprise, and warmth, in her eyes as she studied the package.
Kakashi’s attention shifted, subtle but unmistakable. Sasuke didn’t like the way he looked from the box to Sasuke himself, as if reading something private written plainly across his face. Sasuke shot him a warning glare, a silent challenge that Kakashi easily ignored, simply lifting an amused eyebrow before politely looking away.
“They’re cinnamon buns,” Sasuke muttered, focusing back on Hinata, feeling slightly awkward but refusing to show it. “The small ones.”
Hinata’s face lit up instantly, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her reaction was immediate, bright, genuine, far more appreciative than he’d expected.
Embarrassed, she quickly ducked her head, holding the box close. “Thank you, Sasuke-kun.”
As Hinata’s fingers curled around the edges of the pink box, her lips settled into a soft smile. A delicate blush bloomed across her cheeks, faint but unmistakable.
Sasuke stared.
The warmth in her expression, the sincerity in her voice—it struck something deep within him, something he wasn’t prepared for. His chest tightened, not uncomfortably, but with a sensation unfamiliar enough to make him uneasy. A subtle flutter, a strange pull. He forced his face to remain impassive, unwilling to acknowledge whatever the hell that feeling was, but the warmth lingered, stubbornly refusing to fade.
For a brief moment, nothing else existed except for her and that quiet, grateful smile.
Then, the silence around them settled heavy, and it was only then that he realized how long he had been looking at her. How long he had been caught in a moment he didn’t understand.
Sasuke exhaled sharply and tore his gaze away, shifting his attention to Kakashi. The older man hadn’t said a word, but the look in his lone visible eye was enough.
Sasuke’s gaze settled on Hinata first, observing her quiet posture, the way she stood near Kakashi, yet not quite leaning toward him as she might have in the past. He hadn’t meant for his words to sound like a test, but as soon as they left his mouth, he found himself watching her more closely than he intended.
“Finished for today?” His voice was steady, giving nothing away.
Kakashi’s single visible eye shifted slightly, as if he had already deciphered the layers beneath Sasuke’s tone. With his usual ease, he replied, “Actually, I was just about to walk Hinata home.”
Sasuke barely reacted, but his sharp senses caught the faint change in Sakura’s expression. The soft dip of her brows, the slight tilt of her head. It was enough to tell him that she was only now beginning to notice something. She didn’t understand yet, but realization was creeping in.
A strange protectiveness coiled in his chest. Not just for Hinata, but for the new undefined space between them. She was slowly becoming someone he could genuinely call a friend. Of course, true friendship wasn’t built overnight, and it would take time, more time than this, but they were taking those first steps, cautiously crossing that bridge. He was learning more about her, just as she was about him, and somehow, he found himself sharing details he’d never voiced to anyone before. He didn’t want anything to sever that.
Whatever existed between her and Kakashi, whatever had been brewing in the background before Sasuke even started trying in this marriage, he didn’t want to expose it to more scrutiny. It wasn’t for Sakura to dissect, or for anyone else to weigh in on.
Sasuke turned fully to Hinata, watching for the shift in her expression, waiting for the moment she might hesitate. He was prepared for her to glance at Kakashi first, maybe even try to protest.
But she didn’t.
Her pale eyes met his, steady and untroubled. She didn’t stiffen, didn’t falter. The moment stretched between them, and something settled into place.
Sasuke exhaled, almost imperceptibly. He hadn’t realized how much he’d braced himself until he felt that quiet relief unfurl inside him.
“I’ll take her from here,” he said, his voice as cool as ever, but lacking the edge it might have carried before. A pause, then a slight nod. “Thanks anyway.”
Kakashi’s eye widened slightly in surprise, but it quickly gave way to a polite nod. “Sure. No problem.” He then looked down at Hinata, his voice softening warmly. “We’re still on for training tomorrow?”
Hinata smiled brightly up at him. “Yes, definitely.”
Sasuke turned, already starting to walk away, not bothering to wait. He briefly nodded at Sakura as he passed, hearing Hinata hurry behind him, her gentle footsteps quickening as she offered hurried goodbyes to Kakashi and a quieter, more reserved farewell to Sakura.
The quiet click of her sandals followed until she caught up, falling easily into step beside him. After a moment of silence, Hinata glanced up, her voice soft but hesitant. “You really didn’t have to get me anything…”
Sasuke glanced down at her and shrugged dismissively. “I know. But you kept talking about sweets the other day, and I figured this might shut you up for a while.”
She pouted slightly, brows knitting together with mild annoyance before her expression shifted into something playful, almost teasing. “Well, for your information, I already baked cookies earlier.”
“You’re going to rot your teeth if you keep eating sweets at this rate. Then what? You’ll have to start gumming your food like an old lady. Guess I’ll have to start calling you Toothless.”
Hinata stopped walking, openly glaring up at him, clearly feigning offense. He was briefly caught off guard by the spark in her eyes, the way her cheeks flushed just slightly, lips pursed stubbornly. It was…cute.
The realization hit Sasuke so suddenly he nearly stumbled, heat immediately climbing up his neck. He frowned deeply to himself, stunned, and annoyed, that such a thought could even cross his mind about Hinata of all people.
Quickening his pace to hide his embarrassment, he marched forward, leaving Hinata behind to hurry after him, calling his name softly in protest.
And yet, even as he stubbornly strode ahead, Sasuke couldn’t quite erase the warmth that lingered, nor the tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.