Adoration

Itachi regretted it—giving her a reason to leave him.

The emotion didn't come in the beginning. No, in the beginning, there was only satisfaction, swollen pride, and smug joy. There was glory in the fact that the Hyuga heiress, the untouchable, the uninterested in anything beyond the small circle she called her own, succumbed to him.

"It was a matter of course," many people said, both out in the open and behind two hands. He was Uchiha Itachi. Heir, genius, playboy. Everyone fell for his natural charms eventually. The shy woman never stood a chance.

Idiots, the lot of them. Gossiping little idiots that liked to pretend they knew everything about a person. What did they know about him? About her? About anything beyond the rich bubble they liked to hole themselves in? They were a haughty bunch. And if murder wasn't a crime, Itachi might've rid the world of most of them years ago. He certainly had enough dirt on each to know that most didn't deserve to live. They were scum.

But their lives weren't the problem now. It was what left their mouths.

Whatever they said, each compliment and badly veiled insult... simply wasn't the case with her. Itachi had tried, actually tried, his hardest to impress the woman. His usual high-class restaurants and fancy overseas trips would never do. Not when she was used to such treatment. Not when she could see a yacht and not bat an eye just from the sheer size of it. He'd even tried doing something more casual—diners, burger joints, places where a rich heiress wasn't likely to go and thus, would end up remembering him by.

So, as he walked down a dimly lit street with the greenish glow of an IHOP's sign hanging high above him, why was it that he was the one that remembered? Why could he remember exactly where she'd almost tripped and grabbed onto him? Why could he so distinctly recall her delightful smile and tinkling laugh, as she told him all about her friend, Kiba Inuzuka, who always brought her to these sorts of places?

"Twice a month," she'd told him with an adoring look in her eye, "for the last sixteen years."

It was their secret—and now his, too.

He remembered every expression, every lilt in her voice. Itachi had never once hated his memory, but he did then. And he did now. He hated that he recalled the way she spoke so animatedly when among friends; when next to him. The first time he had witnessed her eyes light up, his breath caught in his throat. Lost somewhere between the tightness of his chest and an emotion he couldn't name.

He missed that feeling.

Missed, too, the way she'd gently place a hand on his arm, subtly prompting him to look at her whenever she wanted to say something. Hinata wasn't loud or clingy. She grew up like him after all, and had the manners to match.

They were... similar where it mattered.

Their relationship was a game at first. Nothing more than a mindless prompt by his best friend, Kisame, thrown somewhere in the middle of various taunts hurled at him about one thing or another from the rest of his old college friends. He'd accepted. Because he was half-drowned in alcohol already and looking to alleviate his boredom. Itachi liked challenges.

He didn't remember much that night. Except that when he awoke, still in a haze, he was in bed and had the insatiable urge to win the woman over.

Itachi remembered after though.

The chasing. The dates. The trying.

All the trying.

He noticed all of her qualities while they were together, too, of course. The good, the bad, the mildly irritating. Although he did furiously deny an unholy number of the good ones in his mind, merely chocking it up to his own imagination. It had always been overactive, and he had firmly believed it to be painting the Hyuga woman as perfect because he hadn't been with a woman in a while, and here she was, with her amazing body and cute face that shouldn't have existed in one creature. Yet it did, somehow, in her.

For reasons beyond his knowledge, however, he only appreciated all of it after.

After the slam of the door and the dead silence. After the angry cousin that almost broke his door down to pick up any bags she might've left and the hostile sister he still saw at dinner parties.

... After seeing her amidst a riot of colorful women, dressed in a long, simple, midnight blue dress he'd told her looked good on her once upon a time ten months after what happened.

When their eyes met across the large, gaudy ballroom back then, she had smiled at him, kind as she was. His chest heated, despite himself. She was in the company of a redhead with striking jade eyes and a deliberately gentle touch, as if he wasn't used to handling things with care. They looked to be the same age. He didn't know if they were together, but he was loathed to admit that they... fit. In a way. Disregarding the obvious color clash.

His name was Gaara, Itachi later learned when his father introduced them.

"He's young," his father had whispered in his ear, "but he shouldn't be underestimated."

Despite being the youngest of three, Gaara was the head of Suna Corporations. He was in town to finalize the merger between their company and Hyuga Incorporated in an effort to create better AI technology. And it was all orchestrated by the lovely woman beside the redhead. They'd apparently gone to college together. As short as Itachi and Hinata's relationship was, however, that was something she hadn't told him—or rather, something he hadn't had the opportunity to find out. Four months wasn't enough time to go over almost three decades of memories.

But if nothing else, there was one thing about that night that he was sure he'd remember until he was old and gray—

Hinata looked relaxed.

Happy, even.

Despite his presence. Despite the fact that when they last saw each other one of his old girlfriends was half-naked in his bed and Hinata had been holding back tears. He had expected her to scream, throw things, make a scene. Instead, Hinata gave him a hollow look. Broken and disappointed. She frowned in a way that made his stomach drop, then left without even a sigh. Somehow, her utter acceptance of the situation, as if she'd seen it coming, made it feel worse. Itachi didn't dare tell anyone about how he imagined it was Hinata that writhed beneath him that night.

Though he didn't show it, something had twisted inside him then. Something that was promptly ignored in a fit of denial. It was only after that dinner party, when he was graced once more with that kind smile and completely captivating, yet disinterested gaze that the feelings finally ruined him.

That was two weeks ago.

Now, standing on the gumdrop-riddled sidewalk, staring at a sad sign in the middle of the night, Itachi felt trapped. Stuck in time. Numb, yet restless. Like a caged animal, pacing in his isolation. The only interesting companion gone.

He should've taken it more seriously. Should've looked at her properly and ignored the fact that he'd only approached because of some juvenile taunt. Should've allowed his heart free reign for just one moment.

Should've... as if it mattered.

It was done now. Itachi didn't even know where she was.

I could call her, he thought for one insane instant, or text. Congratulate her on the merger. I'm tired of looking at photos through a screen.

Because god, he wanted to see her again. He wanted to hear that voice filled with excitement as she talked about sweets and cheesy romance novels.

Itachi took out his phone and tapped the screen twice, listlessly watching it come to life. His background was pitch black and plain, so as not to hurt his eyes during times like this. Opening his contacts list, he pressed her name, not letting his doubtful mind stop him.

It rang six times, before—

"Hello," Hinata said sleepily. Itachi shuddered at the sound of her voice in his ear. "Who is this?"

Of course she wouldn't keep his number.

He breathed. Long and deep. And when he spoke, his voice was as steady as it had ever been, "Hey."

There was a long pause, then, "Itachi?"

"... Yes."

Another pause.

"Why are you... it's the middle of the night, Itachi."

"I know. I'm sorry... I just—"

Itachi breathed again, his mind running. He could try again, couldn't he? So many others got second chances, surely he could, too. He'd do it right this time. He'd pay proper attention and love her with everything he had. Hinata didn't deserve his half-hearted affection in the first place.

But for all his genius, he didn't know how to start over again with her. He could barely get words out.

Itachi placed a hand over his face, trying to will himself to calm down.

"Are you okay?" she suddenly asked, tired of waiting for him to speak. The worried lilt in her voice made his grip tighten over the phone.

"I'm at that IHOP downtown," he told her, making sure to take deep, even breaths. "A block away from the fire station. The one with the big sign. I was hoping you'd be up for a little midnight... adventure."

He frowned at the word that left his lips. It felt strange on his tongue, but he didn't take it back. Instead, he waited with bated breath for her to respond.

"I—Itachi?"

"Hm?"

"I... I have a big day tomorrow."

His chest deflated. Always with the polite rejections.

"Maybe sometime next week then?"

"I can't," she refused again. No excuse this time. "It's really late, Itachi. I really do need to go back to be—"

"Wait. Please, Hinata," he muttered, uncharacteristically desperate. "I... I'd like to talk to you in person, so if you could just please consider it."

He could hear her breathe. If he tried, he'd be able to imagine her expression, too. He didn't try though. Itachi wasn't a masochist.

"... I'm sor—"

"Don't apologize," Itachi interrupted. He didn't think he could take it. "Please don't apologize."

"G—good night, Itachi."

And then she was gone.

She didn't even wait for me to respond, he thought dejectedly, pocketing his phone and staring out at the black expanse above him. No warm hands to grasp his own now. No bubbling laughter to permeate the air or handmade scarves to wrap around his neck. He'd packed the one she'd knitted for him in a small bag with the rest of the few belongings she kept in his house the day her cousin stormed in to take them.

"What now?" he asked the sky.

It didn't answer, fully content to watch him wallow.

Itachi sighed.

Was he even allowed to try again?