Adoration

Itachi had never seen Konoha's sky so blue before.

Especially not at this time of year, when the rest of Konoha was under a blanket of snow and even his breaths escaped in misty tendrils that were just begging the atmosphere for a little warmth. For all intents, the sky should've been gray and cooler than the Hyuga household. It should look as biting as he felt every morning when he rose from his bed, bare feet hitting the cold, wooden floorboards of his house, only to reel back in discomfort. If he was Shisui, he'd probably curse. But he wasn't Shisui, and even when alone, Itachi rarely ever let any sort of profanity escape his lips.

Besides, he liked the cold. The way it numbed his skin and made his blood pool deep within him. How it brightened the rest of the world. Itachi was a living furnace. He could walk out in his usual training clothes and a thin jacket in subzero weather and be perfectly fine—like he was doing now. In the morning, however, he preferred waking up surrounded by warmth.

It's a beautiful day, he thought, reveling in the simplicity.

It was made more beautiful by the sight of his lovely fiancée, bundled up in a thick scarf and a long-sleeved dress and pants, waiting for him in front of the tea shop they agreed to meet at this morning. Conservative as usual, but no less charming. She was dressed in the typical blinding white of the Hyuga, blending in with the landscape around her and contrasting sharply with his own much darker appearance. Her hair was secured by a tie at the base of her neck, much like his own, except hers was thrown over one shoulder, so as not to get in the way of her scarf.

The scarf was one of his older ones, he realized, intoxicated by the mere thought.

Her eyes brightened at the sight of him. She smiled, running the short distance left between them.

"Hinata," he called, eyes barely registering the clamor of the waiters and waitresses that pressed themselves up against the tea shop's windows to get a closer look at them. "Am I late?"

"No," she told him, shaking her head emphatically. Her nose was so, so red. And when she grabbed one of his hands to warm up her own, he couldn't quite help the contented hum that left his lips. "I'm glad you made it. It's so cold. How do you stand it? And you're dressed in so little, too."

There was a pout in her voice and in her face. Itachi was tempted to pull that cold face up to his neck, secure her there, and allow his presence to envelope and warm her, drape around her like a cloak, but—

"I thought you liked the cold," he said instead. Because Itachi, for all of his genius, wasn't quite sure how to be gentle—he knew though, that if he tried to be so, then his body would instinctively obey, despite not knowing how. Such was his command over his senses that they'd reflexively mimic the gentle nature of his mother or his father when they were together. But that wasn't him. And he didn't want to be anyone else right now.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should cradle her cheeks in his hands. It was early morning. There was hardly anyone out, save for the ninjas with missions to do and the staff that worked ungodly shifts. Still, they were in public. A matter he'd forgotten once before and had been heavily reprimanded for by his father when gossip began spreading. His father didn't approve of such public displays of affection by someone supposed to be seen as nothing but the perfect ninja.

It was hard though—resisting her, that is. He'd heard it was common. That when relationships first started they were filled with light and fun and all of those other things he never once associated himself with; and despite them having been together for a good while, their love was still considered new. It was still little more than a child in his arms, young and inexperienced, staring at the world in awe. But no matter how many years he spent in her company, Itachi doubted that that would ever fade. Doubted more that he'd tire of her.

Hinata didn't bother gracing him with a response, perhaps having already known that he'd gone off into his own little world. Instead, she pulled the hand she'd clasped into her own up to her face. Itachi's cradled the side of her head, thumb rubbing across her cheekbone, fingers delving into her hair.

Her hands were warmer now, he noted absently. Her nose, too. Her eyes, however, were still just as bright.

I could kiss her, Itachi thought. He wouldn't have to ask, though the blush whenever he did was worth it. It was the kind of thing that made warmth pool in his chest, swell upwards, then spread out across his skin like the tide over sand.

But, as was usually the case with this woman, rarely did things ever go his way.

"Well, well," a familiar voice whispered in Itachi's ear, before an arm wrapped around his shoulders. "What do we have here?"

Itachi closed his eyes for a moment in physical pain. "Shisui."

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" he prompted.

"You've met her before."

"Yes, once. When you announced your intentions to the clan and you know I couldn't just randomly walk up back then. Not when she was surrounded by elders. Oh, but you're good at hiding her, I'll give you that."

Itachi sighed. "Hinata—"

"First name, I see."

"—this is my cousin, Uchiha Shisui. ANBU. Troublemaker. Occasional fool."

"What kind of greeting was that? Even when you're joking, you sound stiff!" Shisui chastised, before holding his hand out to Hinata with an easy grin on his face. It was the kind of grin that made women weak at the knees, and his cousin knew it. "Shisui, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Hinata didn't even blush. Itachi was quite proud of her for that. Especially when Shisui's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. Though she did hesitate for a moment, looking down at his wiggling fingers, not quite used to shaking hands. From a young age, she was taught the proper way to bow and when she needed to—always before the other person to show femininity and politeness, but never too low; you're an heiress—and she secretly preferred it because it felt cleaner. But Hinata tried, with as much grace as she could muster, to extend her hand in a way that didn't seem awkward. Her grip was delicate, as if unsure how much she should press.

"Hinata," she said, settling for wrapping both of her delicate hands around Shisui's much larger one to make up for her inexperience with such a modern gesture. "I'm sorry I never properly introduced myself to you. I've heard stories about you from Itachi. Thank you for always taking care of him on missions."

He's very precious to me, were the unspoken words that her tone conveyed.

Hinata gave Shisui a warm smile filled with so much affection from just the knowledge of him being related to Itachi that Shisui's shoulders went rigid.

Shisui gave off as much heat as him. Itachi knew that because it was a common trait among the Uchiha, whose natures were ruled by fire. So, he also knew that the redness on his cheeks and the trail of heat spreading down his chin wasn't from the cold.

Itachi yanked his cousin backward by his shirt in a move so subtle, Hinata thought the man had naturally pulled away from the handshake. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments. Shisui's dazed and befuddled; Itachi's warning him to gather his wits.

"It's embarrassing to be thanked for that," Shisui said, smiling in a decidedly un-Uchiha-like fashion. He and Hinata were similar in that they strayed from the norms of their clan. "Itachi takes care of me, too, y'know? But I'm not one to deny credit where credit is due, so you're welcome."

"What are you doing out so early, Shisui-san?" Hinata asked, able to keep up with the spew of words that left his mouth. Itachi supposed that was a side effect of having an Inuzuka as a teammate for so many years.

At her words, Itachi and Shisui's eyes met again.

Don't you dare think about joining us, Itachi's eyes threatened.

"I have a mission," Shisui lied. He was as free as the wind today.

"Oh," Hinata said, frowning. "I'm sorry for keeping you."

Shisui's eyes widened for the second time. "Hokage's teeth, you're polite. How do you even handle Itachi?"

Hinata blushed at his words and looked down, not quite sure how to answer that.

"Shisui," Itachi called, sighing.

"Yea, that's exactly the tone I was looking for," Shisui went on, ignoring him. "He doesn't force you with that no-choice voice of his, does he? Don't let him manipulate you!"

"Didn't you have a mission?" Itachi emphasized, tilting his head toward the village gates in a not so subtle move to make him leave.

"It's B-class," he went on, crafting a false story like it was second nature to him. Then again, it was. "Weeding out a few enemy ninja. They're barely Chunin, so not too bad. Not to mention, it's cold as death out here. They're all holed up in their tunnels. Wrapped in ugly, woolen sweaters, drinking hot chocolate, and telling each other scary tales of their previous missions."

"They are not." Hinata stared at Shisui's very serious face for a moment, before turning to her fiancé. "Are they?"

Shisui whirled around to face his stoic cousin. "Oh, Itachi, she's precious! Lend her to me, would you?"

"Shisui."