[A/N] I don't feel good. I hope it will pass. I don't know when. It's been holding me for more than a year. You know when shit hits the fan, it just keep piling up on the fucking walls.

I wrote at least sixty paragraphs to be placed here. Erased them all. I guess keeping my words to myself is the best thing to do in this situation.

I have no idea what to tell you guys. I am sorry. That's all I can say without the apology sounding false. I'll be trying to answer all the reviews, follows and favorites. Until then, thank you. Thank you to all who believed, who waited, who didn't give up. And a special thank you to the reviewers:

bronzenimbus108, rockyourlove, ClassySassyFunkyFresh, mon coeur, Fernanda Luiza/Nanda, LoveIsLikePi, MommaMoka13, Natty, aurora0914, rallybabe89, Morgenbitch, crazygurl12, josephineeee, StuBBi, Guests, manaoki, Ren Hyuga-Hyogo, Lady, Kibachow, Hanyou-Hayami, cconor, rcr, onlyluna, DaOneInDaCorner, Luvhina, the boulevard, MsChifSantos, Hilda9Achillus9Fitra and Hinata-Hime-Starz.

This chapter is very SasuHina. It seems their relationship will deepen in sensuality, but not in emotions just yet. It will be split in two. Not because of a stylistic decision like chapters 6 and 7. I hit barely less than 40 000 words and realized that there was no way I would be able to wrap this up in 10 000 words. I'll leave Hinata and Sakura's reunion for the next part. It won't be pretty and this part is just too humorous for it to fit in nicely.

The parts go as follows:

1) Sasuke giving himself pep talks in the shitter and planning to write motivational books and become a millionaire. Hinata getting rid of his personal problems. Drastically and permanently. Bag of frozen peas between his legs.

2) Hinata envying the table. Sasuke admitting to Kakashi Hinata's great ass was not his only motivation in chaining himself up. After having pissed Kakashi off beyond repair, obviously. The laws of gravity not applying to Kakashi's working table.

3) Hinata trying to understand how grocery shopping works. Naruto trying to philosophize about Sasuke's marriage. Before his attention is hijacked by the luscious rump of a dark-haired woman carrying grocery bags. A little knight-in-shining armor trying to save Hinata from the Black Knight.

4) Naruto announcing he was inviting himself to dinner, banking on Hinata's good-breeding. Naruto and Sakura, Sasuke and Hinata trying to get down and dirty. Sasuke fucking Naruto over directly. Naruto fucking Sasuke over indirectly. 5000 words describing Sasuke not getting his dose.

…

The Forsaken Heirs

Chapter 9

The Seven Deadly Sins – Part II (1/2)

Envy

By

Voyna

That actually was how shit went in life, wasn't it?! Sex was at the basis of everything that went wrong. Everything was about sex. Besides sex. Sex was about power … Nah, BS. Sex was about sex, too. At least where Sasuke was concerned. Fuck all the intellectual mythology surrounding a good game of frick-fracking!

Sasuke regretted it. His fucking childhood. Back in the days when his dick had been tiny and he'd thought it was mostly used to pee. Later, as he had grown, he'd realized the whole thing could be about more than avoiding bladder-explosions. Like giving Naruto a complex. A huge complex, thank you.

Sex had come later. When he'd been sixteen. In a fucking brothel, lost somewhere in the middle of nowhere. It had been awkward. The chick had been young. Older than him, sure, but still ridiculously young. He'd come too fast. It was also around that time he'd found out Suigetsu couldn't get it up unless he got whipped by a little person. Y'know, a midget. The asshole had always been psychiatric-ward material.

Since that day it had been a down-the-hill kinda thing for Sasuke. No, not him discovering Suigetsu's kinks, what the hell?! The sex part. You had sex. And then you had more sex. And more sex. Until your whole life revolved around two concepts. Uno, Avenger-ing your way through existence. Which Sasuke was damn good at. Secundo, shoving your bratwurst into some chick's sauerkraut. Had Sasuke ever mentioned he hated Western food? Lie, he fucking loved it. His inner fatso drooled at the very idea of it. But unlike with food, Sasuke had always been able to get tail for free. He would have traded the privilege for free food anytime, very honestly. Snap out if already, Uchiha.

And here he was. In the washroom. Again. Funny how whenever he had the fucking blues, he ended up giving himself pep talks right by the shitter. Time economy, all the way. You took a dump while going shrink on your own ass. He should've written motivational books about all the existential BS he had solved while pissing right on the toilet (as opposed to in the toilet).

You know, best-selling garbage that made people believe they could forego the middle-man when it came to solving their psychoproblems. He would've become a fucking millionaire. For one, he knew Akimichi Chōji was crazy about that type of shit. He had a new weight-loss book every week. And generally, put on a few pounds while reading the crap, that's how effective it was.

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, Sasuke remembered the initial whore that had opened the long list of his conquests. Fucking A. Panties dropping on your path could not be called conquests, really. A conquest was something more satisfying. It was something like inducing a woman to sin against all her moral inclinations. In the name of carnal pleasure. Submitting someone's will to his own. Or shit like that. As long as it ended up in sulfurous sex.

Passing his wet hands over his face, Sasuke took a deep, shuddering breath. Day three. Day cocksucking three. A shiver travelled down his back. How the fuck had he gone sexless for months?! It was beyond him. Day three … without sex. And he was going crazy. And had an ongoing, indecent, enormous (take note of that term, enormous, thank you) erection that just didn't want to die. Ever tried walking with a pole between your legs?! He had to report to the Kage Tower no later than tomorrow morning. He would go obscene on the situation.

Trying to escape his misery for a split of an instant, Sasuke closed his eyes, droplets of water rolling down his nose. Not the right thing to do. By a long shot. Behind his eyelids, images he would have wanted to push back assaulted him. Ruby lips parted to filter pants. The movement of Hinata's breasts as she desperately tried to catch her breath. And the feel of her skin. Soft. Cool. Firm.

And oh, hey, look at that! His dick wasn't only perk and alert twenty-four seven, it liked to remind Sasuke of its existence once in a while too. 'Cause having his balls hanging low wasn't enough. He growled at the aggravating twitch in his boxers. That is when everything went to hell. Directing his eyes to the black tent that had formed between his navel and his thighs, Sasuke bit down on his molars.

"Listen, dude. Just fucking forget about it, 'kay?!"

'But Sasuke, we want to have some fun!' his balls replied in a high-pitched voice that cut through the haze of his mind.

Okay. Wait. No. Fuck, no. Sasuke talking to his dick as if it were a rational entity? Normal stuff. He talked to his cock all the time. Fuck him, his shaft was most probably the only logical thing he had met since he turned sixteen. Actually, the most logical thing he had ever met. Not that Naruto was any competition, mind you. His dick expressed its needs and desires in a poised and calm manner. Kinda. It understood when the only thing Sasuke had at hand was his … well, hand. His boners were much more articulate than Naruto and Sakura, no comparison. But strangely, just as unbearable. What a goddamn contradiction.

Though there was one thing his fucking dick, balls included, had not learned to do. Not that the bunch was talentless, on the contrary. At least according to all the bitches that always demanded a repeat. Just that … never, ever, ever had his balls talked back. Sasuke had spent years and years discussing and philosophizing with them. But they had never … uhm. Yeah. Ok. That was it. He had to take care of this situation.

He would march out of the bathroom. Kick in the door to the kitchen. Go for Hinata's ass. Turn her around. Tear off her cocksucking panties. And have his way with her. At least six times. Yep. He would. Without caring one bit that she had been sleeping in the goddamn office for the last three days. Not giving a fuck that whenever he saw her, mostly around the kitchen when she fed him, she let out those piercing shrieks and scurried away. Mmm, clueless rejection. Sexy. Not.

Squaring his shoulders, Sasuke shot himself a stern glare. You've got this, my man. You can do it. And that is how Sasuke's right hand swiftly slipped below waistband of his boxers. Grabbed onto his shaft and gave it a rough stroke. He would fucking hang himself. As soon as he was done jerking off like the loser he was, he would hang himself. A second stroke followed the first.

It wasn't helping. But at all. Like zero. His shaft wasn't buying the goddamn bribe. Sasuke threw his head back and growled. Not in pleasure, he didn't feel a damn shit. He actually had the impression he was back to his wedding night. With the fucking inside of his dick being frozen to the … well, there was no bone in his cock. He was no goddamn horse or shit. Then again, some chicks had called him a stallion, not that his dick was that big (it still was huge and enormous for human standards, ok?!). It had more to do with stamina (not sure that was a compliment, horses usually only lasted a few seconds. At best.) and savoir-faire. What was it worth having the shaft-equivalent of a bayonet when you didn't know how to use it?! Ok, whatever. Sasuke wouldn't spend his day comparing himself to male equids with his hand in his boxers. Retrieving said hand, he washed it again. Even if his cock was spick'n'span after a freezing shower.

It's cool. He'd go to the gym. If he found seven shirts long enough to cover his monstrous rod. And even then, the thing would poke through. It's cool, he said. He had gone sexless for months. It's. Fucking. Cool.

Grimacing right at his reflection, and wondering whether he could make his balls'n'dick do any more tricks (besides talking back and making the ladies scream), Sasuke grabbed onto a towel, got rid of the water running down the bridge of his nose and made his way out of the bathroom. And into his big bedroom. His big, empty bedroom. With a bed engineered to make kama-sutra fantasies come true. Hyūga Hinata with her ankles behind her head?! Yes, please. She was flexible enough, that was for sure.

He growled and turned his head away. He did not need more of that. Actually, damn, no. Sasuke needed much, much more of that. But fuck it; he'd go to Naruto's. Go drink himself some beer with the dōbe and the soda pop-headed pain in the ass. At ten a.m. Fucking A bis. While Hinata remained behind, enticing, provocative and unfuc– Ok. Not going there. Sasuke was a sleaze, but as determined a few months ago (to his greatest surprise), he had standards.

Shooting the clock on his nightstand a glance, he realized he'd woken up earlier than usual. When had Sasuke become a morning person?! How about three days ago?! There was no better way to keep a guy from having a good night's sleep. Sex. Just that usually, Sasuke would have gotten some exercise. Burned some calories.

But no. He was just left to roll around the bed, toss the sheets aside and concentrate on all the sounds that travelled through the apartment. Imagining Hinata, his godforsaken wife, sleeping in the office. Her pretty head lying on the heavy mahogany wood of the table. He wouldn't have minded bending her over that table. Anytime.

Cursing under his breath, Sasuke turned around and went for the walk-in closet. Damn the shit made him feel like a fag. Like honestly, how could someone be so self-centered to have enough rags to fill the equivalent of a baby room. Urgh. Not the right thing to think about. 'Cause their damn baby room was ground zero. The door to it was always closed. And behind it, there was nothing. It was completely empty. Blank. Unused.

Because … because the Hyūga had thought the two of them might have wanted to … decorate it by themselves. When the time came. And it was the only extra room. The apartment was nothing but a temporary fix, anyways. Until the Uchiha compound became habitable again. But for once, in their miserable existence, that clan of assholes had been delicate about something.

Aw, fuck. Thinking about babies when he didn't even have regular sex with the chick. Well, hell, he might have impregnated her, for all he knew. Sure. Hey, where had all his bad-tripping gone?! Look at Sasuke not bitching about having had sex with the very woman that had made him reconsider his opinion of himself. And his sexuality, or the lack thereof, for eight months. A woman whom he had rejected a good two times already. And who was taking her revenge in the best way he could imagine! Giving him a taste and then going screechy on him whenever he wanted to … uhm … have another taste.

And there you had Sasuke scratching his love-trail. Thinking about whether he was desperate enough to head out there in his boxers, with that obvious tent. Maybe that would be a message she would understand. Y'know an attempt to… uh, get Hinata hot. Oh, sure. Right. She would so not scream bloody murder, faint, hit her head on the floor and die. Just die. Or at least go unconscious. Uchiha Sasuke couldn't vouch for his self-control with Hinata out cold, sprawled on the floor.

That's where he threw his hands up in the air.

"You fucking serious, man?!"

And started talking to himself. His whole self, not only his balls. Sex, or the lack thereof, had to be avoided at all price. And it wasn't like he couldn't get his fix out there. He didn't even have to ask. Just that … he kinda … Listen, whenever you told Sasuke he couldn't have something he wanted, he threw a tantrum.

He'd thrown a tantrum that time Mikoto had told him he couldn't get a tomato sandwich before supper when he'd been four. He'd broken a glass that hadn't done anything wrong in its short life.

He'd thrown a tantrum when Uchiha Shisui, Itachi's best friend, had stolen his stuffed dinosaur and put it on top of the fridge. Far away from five-year old Sasuke's reach. He'd first kicked the dickhead in the shin. Then bit his hand. And had gone bulldog on it until Itachi had torn him off of good ol' Shishi.

He'd thrown a very satisfying tantrum when it had been given to understand he couldn't have Hinata. Oy, he rejected her. Not the other way around. Never that (right, that's why all this shit had blown out of proportion, made plenty of sense).

He was worried he would throw another one. Soon. If he couldn't get what he wanted. He wanted Hyūga Hinata. On her back. His stomach growled. Okay, he wanted Hyūga Hinata lying on her back on the kitchen table. Right by his breakfast, so he could take care of two problems at once. Eat and have sex. Yeah, well, that wouldn't happen, because as violent as Uchiha Sasuke's tantrums could be, he was no rapist. She had been curious once. She had let him have sex with her. She obviously hadn't liked it. Didn't want it again. Fuck this.

But he could still have breakfast. No sex, ok (ok?! Did he look fucking okay?!). But he couldn't go on without food! That would be too much to ask from him. Whenever he was pissed, he ate. Whenever he was happy, he ate. He ate before sex. He ate after sex. Uchiha Sasuke ate. As if all food would disappear overnight.

Walking into the closet, he simply grabbed onto the first shirt at hand. And it had to be a long-sleeved muscle shirt. Of course. 'Cause he had to go out there dressed like a whore, flashing his pecs and six-pack. Hoping Hinata would flip him a twenty. Pulling a pair of sweats over his … boner and hips, he let a first-class bitchface settle on his features.

That's how he marched out of the bedroom, knowing full well he would have to face Hinata. He could have waited for her to return to her atelier or the office. But he hadn't. He … wanted to see her. Uchiha Sasuke wanted to take another look at Hyūga Hinata, before heading out. Just to fuel the craziness further. He had no fucking idea what was going on with him. He had no idea what was going on with her.

She'd seen him. Yep. Hyūga Hinata had started using the Byakugan. Had started three days ago actually. She felt threatened. Was worried he would jump her at the first occasion? He sure as hell wanted to. Fact was, she knew where he was, what he was doing (which implied she might have Byakugan-ed him while he'd tried to polish his stick, if you see what he meant), when he was planning on walking out of the bedroom. She knew in advance where shit was heading so to say.

Hinata always had all the time in the world to disappear from kitchen and living room when Sasuke decided to hunt down some food. Feed his inner caveman. She never did though. She always stayed behind until the last minute. And they always met up. There. In that strange dining room of theirs. And today would be no exception. He'd have a nice fifteen seconds to check her out. Realize again how hot she was. How much he wanted a repeat. How high-pitched her voice could be when she screeched at seeing him. Why the fuck did she wait for him, if it was to just hyperventilate and scream?!

And yet, as he approached the living room, Sasuke had the impression he could feel her. Could smell her. He could sense that soft pulse at the base of her neck against his lips. A shiver travelled down his spine. While his boner kicked again. For fuck's sake. And there you had Sasuke rolling his eyes and shoving his hands into his sweats' pockets. He felt fucking ridiculous. Which he was. Shooting a glance at the hallway wall he got a look at one of Hinata's black-and-white paintings. Yeah, she wasn't just a great rack, he got it, goddammit.

Walking into the living room, his shinobi instincts kicked in. A shuddering breath. A hand through his hair. And he was in the dining room. She was there of course. Tense shoulders. Her back turned to him. Hinata had known he was coming in. But she had stayed. One could only imagine how much she regretted it. Her heart was pounding against her left breast; her breath was hitching in her throat. She shook more than ever as she closed the door to the kitchen.

However … she wanted to see him. She wanted to see … Uchiha Sasuke. It had not gone as she had expected. That had not gone as expected. She had not hoped for it. She had not believed it would happen after all this time. It messed up all her plans. She had her clan breathing down her neck. Or actually her grandfather and Tokuma wanting to set the terms of some type of collaboration with Sasuke. Which was worse than going for Hinata's life. And she had the Hagewashi. With whom she had passed something like a deal she doubted she would be able to get out of easily. Oh, Kiba.

It seemed that whenever Kiba appeared out of nowhere, things had to go wrong. Or to go too well. He was like a walking, talking horseshoe. Just that sometimes having good luck in something meant having bad luck in something else. Kiba and Shino had fallen from the skies to kick in the door to Hinata's life. And all of a sudden, the Hyūga invited the prodigal daughter to the banquet. And Uchiha Sasuke claimed his due. Hinata licked her lips. Not quite sure whether it was because they were dry, because she was scared. Or because of something else.

She lingered in the kitchen every time, knowing full well she couldn't face this man who had become her husband. But wanting to sneak a peek. To look at his striking profile. At the slightly disdainful expression of his thin lips. His imperious nose. And those dark, straight eyebrows on white skin. She had prided herself from her youngest days with the fact she was immune to Uchiha Sasuke. There had always been a little snort of annoyance, silent little expression of contempt, that would escape her when she saw girls, younger, older, go crazy for his beautiful, black eyes.

His beautiful, black eyes. She remembered how they could burn. How they had burned the flesh of her breasts as he had thorn the kimono's silk from her skin. How they had set her on fire there as he had kept himself above her. Moving in and out.

It had hurt. He had not been exactly careful, she had to admit. He had taken what he had wanted. With a contagious fever. She had wanted to cry out in pain more than once, especially as his thrusts had become more invasive. And yet, her back still turned, taking a split of a second to compose herself, she had to admit to her shame that she, Hyūga Hinata, the same little girl that had always scorned Uchiha Sasuke, out of jealousy, out of envy, was not as immune to his beauty as she had wished to believe herself.

He had taken her. A sob almost left her lips as she admitted she wanted him to take her again. To mark her. She who was his enemy. Hinata wanted the man who was part of one of her grandfather's plot to push her down onto the floor, tear her clothes off, bury himself inside of her. As deep as he could. She could not be left for more than a split of an instant with him without desiring it.

She had not felt any pleasure. But at that strange moment, when Uchiha Sasuke had submitted her to him, when he had invaded her body and marked her, Hinata had felt free.

Free of the Hyūga clan.

Free of her fright for Hanabi.

Free of her grudge against Uzumaki Naruto.

Free of Kō and those strange, illicit cravings they had shared.

In that split of an instant as an orgasm had shaken Sasuke's back, Hinata had been freed from all her sins. She had been freed from Neji. She wanted it again. She wanted for Uchiha Sasuke to look down at her, his chin kicked up and his dark eyes glistening from underneath his black eyelashes. Reign as a king over her. At least until the charm dispelled and Hinata crashed back into reality.

But she knew it would not happen again. Because she …

Hinata had failed at it. It had been a catastrophe. She knew the theory. She'd had Yamanaka Ino telling her all about it back in the days. Not that she had wanted to hear any of it, mind you. She honestly had not needed to know all about fellatio and to look at Ino sucking a zucchini off. That had been a little bit of an overkill. But count on Yamanaka Ino going big or going home. If she were to teach Hyūga Holy-Virgin Hinata anything about pleasuring men, she had better do it thoroughly. Ino had always liked a job well done.

Even Kurenai had ventured to explain certain things to Hinata. Those conversations had mostly turned around the immaturity of boys. Long story short, keep your thighs closed, Hinata. And a kunai at hand for when Kiba hit puberty. Luckily, Kiba and Ino had reached that ungrateful age at the same time. Had Hinata known anything about Kiba's third, or was it fourth, part-time job, she would have had to admit that he had been a better pupil to Ino than herself. Good thing she didn't know anything, it might have cooled down her newfound attraction to Uchiha Sasuke for good. Kiba's take on sex would have turned any normal person off. Just that people weren't all that normal anymore.

All in all, Hinata had been pathetic. She had not known what she was supposed to do. It was as if all of Ino's lessons had been locked into a dark closet at the back of her mind. Which most probably was the case. She had been too scared to make a mistake. Absolutely unable to relax. Or to be spontaneous. Asking a Hyūga, as atypical as he or she might have been, to be spontaneous was like asking an Akimichi to stop eating. Unimaginable. And there you had Uchiha Sasuke pulling a chair out from under the table. Not even shooting her a glance.

Hyūga Hinata had been uninteresting to that man from day one. Why he had decided, after months, after almost a year, to come claim her was beyond her. He had done so out of boredom? Because of something Hyūga Tokuma might have said about her? Had he heard anything about those rumors? About how easy she supposedly was? He might have expected her to be more experienced than she truly was. Especially if Tokuma had used his venomous viper-tongue to spread falsehoods about her.

Whatever the reason. Whatever the reason, Hinata could not go on as she had for the past three days. Whenever she had found herself in the same room as him, she had been unable to control herself and her fear. She had squeaked. Humiliating herself in the process. A Hyūga woman, a real one, would have never shown how affected she was by such a triviality as sex. Especially not if the man concerned in the story had rejected her a few times and now ignored her because of her lack of savoir-faire.

The Hyūga-hime in Hinata could not let her go on as she had. No more screaming, no more cowering. Chin up. This was nothing new! Uchiha Sasuke was hot, then he was cold. It was a known fact. He had abandoned her after having taken her virginity. He would abandon her now. And run back to his darling Uzumaki Naruto.

Generally, Aburame Shino was recognized as resenting. Hyūga Neji had also been quite good at keeping grudges. But many would have been surprised to know Hinata never forgot offenses. She forgave graciously. But never, ever forgot. Uzumaki Naruto would forever be known to her as the man that had rejected her twice. But worse than everything, Uzumaki Naruto would be the man her nii-san, her beloved brother, her support, her dearest friend had sacrificed his life for (at least, so she wanted to believe in her rage, even if she knew it was a lie).

And now … now he stole Hinata's husband from her. Oh, she would have skinned that kitsune, torn out each and every one of his nine tails. Made herself a nice fur coat. It was so easy to choose oneself a scapegoat. And her insolent thoughts had the good of giving her the courage to finally face Uchiha Sasuke properly after three days. She was Hyūga. She would not be bullied, she had said so numerous times. She. Would. Not. Be. Bullied.

Swiftly turning around, she looked at the man that was torturing her beyond the boundaries of the bearable calmly taking place in front of a strange breakfast. Hinata had gone overboard. But Sasuke appreciated her trying to make up for being a pain in the ass. By feeding him. Plus the shit was diverse. He had the impression the West would be marrying the East right on his taste buds.

Miso soup? Check. What was that? A patriotic breakfast? Why, yes! White rice and umeboshi. Check, check, check. And, to spice things up a little, he had scrambled eggs, ham, salty pancakes (she never tried to feed him sweet shit, smart woman). And red and yellow tomato slices covered in olive oil, salt, pepper and garlic. For breakfast?! Sure, why not?! Someone had a problem with that maybe?! 'Cause Sasuke was in a good mood to stab anyone with either chopsticks or fork, their choice, he had both at hand.

Look at that, she didn't scream. She didn't pierce Sasuke's eardrums with her butchered-pig cries. Gee whizz, this would be a good day. Actually, it would have been a good day had he been able to raise his eyes and meet hers like a man. Not keep his head bowed and frantically looking about all that food, not knowing where to start first. Oh and another thing that made the start to the day actually miserable was the fact that as soon as he had seen that heap of delicious food, Sasuke'd lost all his appetite. That woman was ruining the smallest joys that were making his life bearable. She was the bane of his existence.

In a disgusted gesture, Sasuke dropped the fork he had mechanically taken. He didn't have to raise his head to know what Hyūga Hinata looked like. Dressed in oversized clothes. And with dark bags under her eyes. Why the fuck didn't she scream and make a run for it. Was she making fun of him?! Again?!

"G-g-good … morning."

A whisper, barely audible. She couldn't believe she had dared! Why wouldn't the floor just open up and swallow her. A crimson blush spread over her skin, making her feel like the temperature of the room had just gone up by a few hundred degrees. Well, guess what?! Sasuke felt like someone had clipped him with a two by four at the back of the head. So, uh, was that an invitation to get down and dirty?!

"Tch."

That had definitely been an invitation to drop her panties. Sasuke could guarantee. He still knew himself well enough to be able to discriminate between all his different tch and hn. Passing a wary hand over his eyes for the hundredth time, he groaned lightly. They had to have a conversation sooner rather than later. Sasuke had to get some shit across. Namely that he might have seemed like a man that could bear going cold turkey for ongoing months but that it had all been BS and that he needed his daily dose. Yeah, come on, he could tell her that. Just get it over with.

Finally taking a look, Sasuke felt his courage fail him. Not so much because she looked miserable. Just because he got distracted immediately. How the fuck had he been able to ignore that for months?! Or to convince himself he should not take what was so openly offered. Having a body like hers was a provocation in itself. Yeah, he admitted it; he was staring at her chest. There was something to be said about a pair of those that even an XXL-shirt couldn't hide. His tongue pointed through his teeth, licking at his lower lip as memories flooded him. He could certify he still felt Hinata's skin against the palm of his hand. Sasuke could even remember the taste of cream and herbs as he had latched onto her breasts. Oh, how he regretted not having bitten onto that flesh behind which a cold, unfeeling Hyūga heart beat. As a pre-emptive retaliation, as a punishment for these three days.

He disliked her clothes. The women Uchiha Sasuke had been acquainted with would never have hidden their curves and edges from his eyes. On the contrary, they had always been more than eager to bare it all. But not Hyūga Hinata. She had to be different. His eyes slid up from her chest covered by the thick fabric of an oversized wool sweater to the column of her neck. Yes, that flesh he remembered. Its texture under his tongue. Its aroma tickling his nose. And the strands of black hair slithering across it, a threat, a menace, a dark promise.

Sasuke had lost all his appetite for food. But his craving for Hyūga Hinata was awoken. More painful than ever. She was a dangerous fruit he had stolen from the Imperial Gardens, a fruit he wanted to sink his teeth in. Beautiful Hyūga woman, dark-haired and fearful. His prying glance caressed its way up to her lips, traced the corner of her mouth, ran across the curve of her high cheekbones and met her own pale eyes. The eyes of a wild animal. Had they only been golden, those would have been the eyes of a panther. Reluctant, nervous, unwilling to hold his. Her porcelain skin blossomed in color and heat, her lips parted, opened, traced a path his tongue would have wanted to follow. But this time no gasp escaped her. She had learned her lesson.

Sasuke wanted to see fire devour her untameable eyes. Feel droplets of her sweat trickle down the crook of his neck. Have her furious heart beat against his chest. She was the perfect prey for an experienced hunter that had gotten sick of common trophies. A cold sensation slithered into his heart. A name he had succeeded to hide in the darkest corner of his brain for a few miserable days came back to mind.

Cooled him off immediately. His eyes hardened, became trenchant. Yeah, well, he hadn't been the only one to see a worthy prey in Hyūga Hinata. Actually, he was only now seeing her as worthy of some notice, eh. He'd been more than happy to forget everything about her existence for ongoing months. Ever been to a fucking safari and had some other dickhead appear out of the blue and aim for your lion?! Well, neither had Sasuke, but he could imagine the feeling wasn't much different from what he was experiencing at the moment.

And she felt it. Yeah, Hinata felt it. She had felt his stare directed towards her when he had entered. She had known Sasuke had been evaluating her. The fact his eyes dropped to his plate and he took hold of his fork again said it all, didn't it?! She had been weighed, she had been judged and she had been deemed … unsatisfying.

If curiosity killed the cat, then miscommunication killed the sex drive. Yeah, fuck that. Sasuke's libido was on speed at the moment. With Hyūga Neji rodeo-ing on it. In a movement of utter, concentrated hatred, he stabbed a poor, innocent pancake that had done nothing in its short life to deserve such an end. What the fuck did Hyūga Neji have to do with Sasuke's dumbass, cocksucking, goddamn libido?! Everything! That decomposing, long-haired, incestual … incestitive … incestualized … cousin-loving faggot had become in a few days the very centre of Sasuke's existence.

It truly was unfortunate that Byakugan eyes could not read one's mind. Hinata would not have mistaken Sasuke's movement full of rage (he had just stabbed some poor pancake with so much fury Hinata was surprised it didn't bleed to death in front of their eyes) as a threat directed her way. Ok, she got the message. Disappear. Now. Flustered, blushing (more like combusting), she took a step forward. The movement had been silent, precise and swift. Had her sweater not flashed black in the corner of Sasuke's eye, he would not have seen her disappear out of the dining room.

Fuck, no! He had said he would have a conversation with her. He would not chicken out of it. Uchiha Sasuke was no pussy (come again?!)! His chair screeched on the wood flooring as he pushed back. Shooting out, his hand latched onto a thin, wool-covered arm. Thing was, in her horror, Hinata mistook what was a friendly, albeit fierce, attempt to keep her a few instants longer for a frontal attack. Her instincts kicked in immediately. The first result being a substantial amount of chakra travelling through her arm and being pushed out along its length.

Shit was, Sasuke's first reflex was to go bulldog on the situation. Instead of immediately loosening his grip on her elbow and releasing her, he tightened his fingers and jerked her towards him. Not a smart thing to do. By a long shot. He just hadn't expected so much animosity early in the morning.

In no time, clumsy as she was in her fright (and the Hagewashi expected her to be a good addition to their little party crew?! Really?!), her feet got tangled up and Hinata lost balance. Guided by Sasuke's tug, she turned on her heels, blood beating in her ears. To make a long story short, Hyūga Hinata ended up seated on Uchiha Sasuke's lap. Actually, not exactly on his lap. Unfortunately.

His pained, shrill scream pierced through the haze of her mind. It felt like a slap from her father's hand. Turning her head, Hinata realized her face was barely a few millimeters from Sasuke's contorted one. In fact she could have bet that the tips of their noses were touching.

Hey, look at that, Hyūga Hinata had just gotten rid of any need the two of them had to discuss their sex-life! Sasuke should have fucking thanked her. He would have considered it were he not about to cry. Like a godforsaken baby. Literally. The sex problem had just been solved in a drastic way. He would never have to take care of morning boners in humiliating ways anymore. 'Cause Hinata had just proven she was her sister's sister, her father's daughter, her grandfather's granddaughter.

She'd just pulverized his dick by squishing it beyond the laws of gravity. He was sure his erection must have been bent over. Actually, her ass-bone had also stabbed his balls. Look at them having gone silent as a tomb. Where had all the sassiness of the morning gone, huh, girls ('cause his balls had to be chicks, of course)?! He would never get hard again. Never, ever again.

It was unfortunate Sasuke couldn't appreciate the scope of this charming new development. He was too busy whizzing and doing his miserable best not to sob and cry with this demoness seated on his … Can you call it a dick if it can't get up anymore?!

Terrorized by his eyes scrunched close and by the paleness of his cheeks, Hinata made a movement to stand up. But before she had the time to shift her weight to her feet, Sasuke's arm forcefully snaked around her waist and he buried his face into her shoulder, loudly moaning in anguish. You knew shit had gone wrong when Uchiha Sasuke moaned. All of Hinata's blood rushed down from her head. His tremors intermingled with hers and she wasn't sure anymore who shook the most.

Sasuke took a deep, shuddering breath, wheezing some more. Did his best to concentrate on the smell of sandalwood and tea that emanated from Hinata. He didn't want to let her go. Why?! Oh, because he was so very grateful she had just maimed him beyond repair. Too bad no one had told him Hyūga Iroha had undergone a similar operation. They might have founded the Fraternity of Dickless Wonders together. Fuck that shit, he didn't let Hinata move because as soon as she would stand up, the pressure on his wounded soldier would go to hell and all the blood would flow right into Sasuke's dick. It would hurt more, pulsate too, if you didn't know.

"Ano … D-Danna-s–"

His eyes shot open immediately and he pinned her with the most hateful glare Hinata had been given to see in her life. And she had had Neji go for her throat when they had been genin. He would tear her head off. Uchiha Sasuke honestly would. She might have been pretty damn hot, she might have had the most gorgeous pair of knockers he had ever seen and an ass that had made him salivate for months … but since she had ensured he would never again have the pleasure of getting into her panties, he could strangulate her without feeling an ounce of guilt. Plus, she gave him that cold danna-sama shit he detested.

"Get. Out.", Sasuke hissed through his teeth.

She just blankly stared at him. Considering the fact they were in the perfect position to have chair-sex did not improve Sasuke's mood. Reverse or face-to-face, Sasuke wouldn't have cared. But his considerate temper hadn't gotten him very far lately, had it?!

"Get off!", he barked in anger.

This time, Hinata understood the message. She shot up as if something had bitten her in the ass. And stood there like a fucking retard, looking at Sasuke immediately cupping his wounded member and doing his best to exert a decent amount of pressure on it. As he bent over and pressed his forehead against the cool table, almost shoving his head into a plate full of food, she realized.

She'd kinda figured she'd harmed him, falling on him like that. She'd just taken in account she had crushed his thigh, displacing some nerve. Hinata had fallen on Kō like that once and had almost broken his femoral bone. Well, not exactly what had happened with Sasuke. She squealed, blushing as realization washed over her. She'd just … she'd … Oh, dear God. She remembered that time Shino had aimed for Kiba's … Kiba's … There. She had never witnessed so much human misery and pain in her life.

Poor Kiba had fallen to the ground; let himself slide onto his side and, with his hands between his legs, he'd gone foetal. And stayed there, breathing heavily and moaning sporadically, for fifteen minutes. While Kurenai had joyfully been cooking some beans and Shino, once his deed accomplished, installing a tent. Hinata had offered Kiba some hand-made unguent, with Akamaru simply lying on his master ('cause needing a testicle-retrieval operation wasn't enough, one also had to die of asphyxiation), whining just as much as the protagonist of the story. Kiba had pretty much told her to go to hell.

Hyperventilating (this would become their morning ritual, it seemed), Hinata just kept on staring wide-eyed at Sasuke's one-man show. Oy. He wasn't planning on going pussy on the situation in public. If he was to cry, he would do so privately, thanks.

"Hyūga … Get the fuck … out …"

She took a step back at the language. First of all, Sasuke never called her Hyūga, for whatever reason. She didn't know why. Had she asked, he would have retorted that when he was fantasizing of doing her doggie-style (to obviously have a panoramic view of her luscious ass), he didn't need the face of the patriarch-in-law to appear in front of his eyes.

Second, she'd only heard him curse once and hadn't held it against him. Her family drove her crazy as well. And made her cuss mentally. Well, ok, gee whizz and golly didn't really make it into the cuss category but that's how juicy it got with Hina. If he swore at her, she must have truly made him mad. Sweetie, you just crushed his greatest pride, his most useful ally in times of war, his best means of negotiation where women were concerned!

But hey, the cursing did end up having the desired effect. Hinata did disappear, taking with her the soothing perfume of tea, sandalwood and paulownia. Just that, instead of heading for the living room, she made it to the kitchen. And in no time she was back. With something in her hands, not that Sasuke knew. His eyes were still set on his wounded manhood and his forehead pressed against the table.

"Ano … Ah–"

All the muscles in his body contracted at the sound of her voice. The chakra that started oozing out of Sasuke's pores was the last warning. If she didn't get her ass out of the dining room, he could not vouch for his self-control. This time, Hinata made the smart choice. In a swift movement, something cold … and wet … was thrown on top of Sasuke's head and Hyūga Hinata went poof-disappear-act on the situation.

With pure, utter rage, Sasuke grabbed at the bag of cold shit that limply lay on his hair and made water trickle down his temple. Rising his head, he shot it a disbelieving glare. What the actual fuck?! A bag of frozen peas?! Someone had a fucking death wish. She … Honestly … Wanted … To … Game over, Uchiha, my man. Pressing the bag of frozen peas between his legs, he produced a few disgraceful sounds that made him impressed at how high-pitched his voice could get. So that was the shit about castratos, eh?!

"Ah. Ah. Ah …"

With the last morsel of strength remaining in his body, Sasuke pressed his thighs together (with the bag of frozen peas between them, yes), reached for the fork, lifted a whole pancake towards his lips and shoved it into mouth, chewing aggressively. That poor pancake. What a short and tortured life it had led. Plus the crap was cold. But that didn't mean much to a guy that had eaten raw bear meat. The moral of that story had been that a PMSed Karin was a scary concept. And that Uchiha Sasuke could eat anything. Anything.

While Sasuke went pig on the cold food that had been laid in front of him, Hinata slid against the door of her atelier. Moaning in anguish and hiding her face between her hands. Cheer up, girly. At least she hadn't screamed to bloody murder this time. This was encouraging. Very encouraging. Not.

x.x.x

Peeking out of her personal room, Hinata scanned the surroundings. She knew Sasuke had headed out a good fifteen minutes ago. But she was a scaredy-cat. Better make sure he hadn't laid some traps all around the place. As a payback for what she had made him undergo. The very idea of it made her whimper of fear.

Standing up, she cautiously dusted her skirt off. Not that there was any dust on the apartment's flooring. For the last three days, she had spent her nights cleaning and waxing it. It shone like the sun. And smelled of fresh pine. She had to clean up the kitchen now. Hopefully, Sasuke had eaten something before heading out. Or not. He might have thought that after trying to castrate him, she would also attempt to poison him. Black Widow style.

When she re-entered the dining room, Hinata realized it was clean. There was not one plate cluttering the table. There wasn't even the smallest grain of rice remaining behind on the floor. She didn't like it. With panic stifling her, she ran towards the kitchen. Throwing the door open, she saw her worst nightmare unfold in front of her eyes. Neatly disposed on the drying rack by the sink, all the plates and utensils had been washed.

She hated it. Hyūga were in essence a strange contradiction. They worshipped as if the Apocalypse was knocking at the front door. Ok, ok, they worshipped because they were show-offs and would never permit for, say, the Nara to have more patronage in the Shintō religion than themselves. Megalomania was the only true Hyūga faith. That, and a distorted view of natural nihilism. But all in all, at first glance they did look quite superstitious.

And then, there was this disbelieving side to them. If they couldn't see it, then it didn't exist. You get the contradiction?! They sure as heck couldn't see gods and spirits and other BS and yet they financed processions, forced all the most renowned Hyūga factions to take part in painful pilgrimages and made ridiculously elaborate offerings to Amaterasu. That time Hinata's cousin Ō-Chichi had been forced to traverse a Nara forest on her knees had truly been an overkill.

All that to say that the disbelieving side to the Hyūga was making Hinata's little fists tremble (well that, or her nervous problems, your pick) at that instant. There was no way Uchiha Sasuke of all people had left the place clean. How could he?! For having seen, or better said smelled, his sports bag at the beginning of their cohabitation, Hinata could ensure that if it weren't for her, Uchiha Sasuke would have either lived with the danger of getting ill with leper eventually. Either, he would have died of hunger. As simple as that.

Ok, well she might have been unjust, but she would never have admitted it. The Uchiha was surprisingly clean and she generally appreciated it. And well whose sports bag, besides Hinata's back in the days, had ever smelled of roses? Kiba's had smelled of bodies in decomposition. For the longest period of time, Shino and her had been hypothesizing that dog-boy kept the limbs of young women that had refused him nicely organized inside of his sports bag. Then they had decided against it. The thing hadn't been big enough for the sheer number of girls that had told poor Kiba to take a walk in the forest.

The point was, having not washed the plates herself, Hinata couldn't believe they weren't covered in bacteria and fungi that only Hyūga Tokuma's eye could see. Bacteria and fungi most probably already plotting an attack. The table must have been covered in invisible food particles. A great microenvironment for them. She left them overnight and tomorrow she would have colonies covering the thing! Nuh-uh. Not going to happen. Hinata had had a bad start to the day. In fact, she had had a bad week. Not that the last twenty years had been any better, just that she was not one to complain about something that could not be changed. But the presence of bacteria and fungi spores on her turf could be remediated against. And would be remediated against.

In a defying gesture, very uncommon to her, Hinata put her fists on her hips, blew a strand of black hair away from her nose, sighed and decided she had to clean after Sasuke. Of course, he couldn't have done anything right. Not in this department. Sashaying towards the sink, she turned the hot water on. And felt some strange relief at seeing vapor forming in front of her nose. The smell of citrus coming from the dishwashing liquid soothed her nerves. This was good. Completely ignoring the burn of the water on the fine skin of her hands, she washed the dirty plates. Scratching the porcelain with her finger nails. Rubbing the surface with her palms.

Uchiha Sasuke. He might have been known as the evil Avenger. And plotting with her grandfather. But for having caught him eating raw tomatoes while sitting in front of the fridge, she could warrant that he wasn't as dangerous as he wanted to make himself seem. Was she trying to give herself a pep talk?! While washing the dishes?! She would have been surprised to know that some people found inspiration while sitting on the toilet.

Once all the plates had been nicely disposed by size on the drying rack, Hinata felt like things were already a little better. She could forget for a split of an instant that she had potentially castrated her husband. Her husband whom she wantonly wanted to have sex with. Even if she hadn't really liked it the only two times they'd done it.

Grabbing onto a moist sponge, she made her way back and attacked the table. Had her father seen with what force she was intent on ruining the expensive lacquered mahogany, he might have regretted having gone overboard by importing the thing from Tsuki no Kuni. But she had to clean it, to erase any remnants of human activity. So that everything went back to its original state. Since she never would.

Examining the table, a now moist cloth thrown over her shoulder and the dried-up sponge in her hand, Hinata felt envy. She had fallen so low as to envy the table. And not only the table. Hyūga Hinata envied the furniture. The utensils. The plates. Because they could be placed, displaced, replaced. Unlike shinobi. Unlike men. A painful moan got stuck at the base of her throat.

Wood could break. Porcelain could crack. But when glass shattered on beautiful, well-waxed ebony flooring, it did not make the same sound as bones breaking. When milk spilled all over black granite counters, it did not have the color of human blood seeping through softly smiling lips. The lips of a loved one. And when white ceramic fissured in its middle, it did not make a woman fall to her knees and a sob escape her.

Hinata's knees gave in. Her hand pressed against the table, she slowly let herself crumble to the floor. Violently, without thinking about the ugly wound it would leave, her little, shining teeth got hold of her lower lip, biting into the flesh without any pity. The taste of blood on her tongue made things only worse. Blood. Blood. Blood seeping through Neji's lips as his blind eyes searched for her, smiling in a last attempt to alleviate her burdens. She could not breathe.

Stupid Hinata, she had thought that one night with Uchiha Sasuke could make her forget her sins. In the end, he was not a cure. Who would have ever imagined Uchiha Sasuke of all people as a cure?! He was a cancer, a disease. A drug. There was no difference between him and the laudanum tincture they used to give her so she would not have the bad taste of making a scene. Or worse, trying to escape again. And as the disease that he was, he had already spread throughout her body.

Uchiha Sasuke. Her husband. Her enemy. Her … lover?

That last word grazing her thoughts made Hinata snap out of her trance. Her lower lip, abused and blood-engorged, slipped from between her teeth. Taking support on the table, she pulled herself up. Chastising herself silently. She channeled all the energy left in her frail limbs to compose herself. To slip that unfeeling porcelain mask over her features. Her only protection. And of course, her thoughts had to wander back to the compound. Since her bad day had to get worse, one way or another (ignorance was bliss, Hinata didn't realize the day was far from being over and that when shit hit the fan, it usually covered the walls in crap), a name came to her. It was not Neji's. It was not Hanabi's. But enough to make the softness of her features harden at once. Kō. And in her bosom at once beat the same humiliation that had made her yield to Uchiha Sasuke in the end.

Hinata envied the table. From the day it had been delivered to the morning it had witnessed a forsaken wife maiming her husband, it had not changed. While Hinata had undergone thousands of transformations. From the healthy newborn to the broken, desperate, neglected twenty-year old, there had been thousands roles she had been forced to play.

The lazy sway of her hips as she made her way back to the kitchen, the soft caress of her finger over the table as she passed by it did not betray her inner turmoil. She got rid of both the sponge and towel, envy corroding her loins. But she did not let it filter, not even when she was alone. She had learned the hard way (a few times of lately) that emotions were meant to be hidden.

All in all, she better start dinner now that Sasuke was back. He was like a colony of grasshoppers. He came, he ravaged the harvest, he disappeared as soon as there was no more food. Opening the fridge, the heavy mass inside of her stomach contracted painfully. Where had all the food gone?! Stress had a way to make Hinata cook. And Sasuke ate, as mentioned before. He was a bottomless pit. She was a perpetual cooking machine. They were the perfect match. The thought made her growl and throw her head back. While the open fridge was cooling her breasts. How nice.

Well, when he would decide to reappear out of the blue, Hinata was quite sure he would not appreciate her offering him void. Or … She leaned in, grabbing onto a jar and raising it to her eyes … Pickled octopus tentacles. Back in the days, back when she had actually eaten things besides steamed vegetables, oatmeal and rice, she would have devoured those octopus tentacles herself. Chewed them out. Sucked at them (and that was the girl that had complained about Yamanaka Ino's zucchini-sucking skills).

Actually, Hinata wasn't all that sure she wanted for Sasuke to reappear. She had been unhappy with his prolonged absences. She had been unhappy with his stays. Well, what did you want her to tell you?! There was something to be said about a man that didn't touch you for a year, that never opened his mouth and developed an almost symbiotic relationship with her clan out of the blue. Well, ok, maybe symbiotic was a little far-fetched. But he had seemed on quite friendly terms with Tokuma a few days ago. Right before he and Hinata had …

In a clumsy movement, the jar of pickled octopus tentacles was being put back into the fridge and the stainless steel door shut closed. There was only one thing to be done when the apartment was not upside down enough for Hinata's liking, the fridge was empty and she had R-rated scenes running through her brain.

It was high-time to go grocery shopping. Hip, hip, hurray! Hinata was all excited to step out and give the whole world her self-conscious, actually-had-sex-with-my-estranged-husband blush. And castrated-him-after-three-days-of-a-dry-spell. That part had to be added to the description. And a round of hyperventilating for the little lady! The day wasn't complete without hyperventilation. It was a must. An essential.

A must Uchiha Sasuke would have very well preferred to do without. It had indirectly led to him becoming the laughing stock of the village. Obviously, he had not used his super-ninja skills to get to the Kage tower. He had chosen the common walk instead. Why?! Because the shear stress of air on his balls had he used ultra-speed jutsu or other shit would have been so big he would have fainted in mid-race. People didn't understand that air could actually tear off roofs, so why not depart with his fucking balls?! Components of a tornado? Hot air, cold air, the eye of the shit, a cow, the roof of a house and Uchiha Sasuke's balls. No thanks.

So here he was, walking around with his legs parted and his hips pushing forward in a desperate attempt to decrease any type of friction between dick and company (company being boxers and pants). He would have gone out naked had he not been worried of getting raped. Society had a huge problem when a man was more worried of getting jumped than arrested for indecency.

The moral of the goddamn story was that people were staring at him big time, lifting their eyebrows, letting their jaws drop. And chicks were wondering, their little peanut brains overworking, whether he wasn't actually sending out an invitation. Well, he fucking wasn't. He'd just gotten castrated by his wife. He wouldn't have been able to service a woman had he wanted to. And he didn't want to, so yeah. He actually wanted … No, he didn't. Not anymore at least. Fuck her. Had he just stated a desire or mentally cussed at Hyūga Hinata?! He didn't know. And why the fuck did he still refer to her as Hyūga?! To remind him of Hyūga Hiashi, there was no other explanation. In fact, Sasuke was the one that was castrating himself.

Ok. He needed someone to punch him in the face. Not that anybody would volunteer. Smart move. Uchiha Sasuke would kill anyone that had the bad idea of raising his fist against him. That's most probably why his own fist almost collided with his nose. He actually would have punched himself had he not remembered in extremis that he was in the middle of Konoha's Farmers' Market.

Fair enough, as he turned his head, his eyes met the peepers of a stunned serf whose jaw was almost sweeping the ground and who had obviously forgotten he was holding a watermelon. The shit slipped from the dude's hands and rolled into the street. Dropping his fist, Sasuke sighed and tried shoving his hands into his pockets. The whole village would know Uchiha Sasuke had tried to auto-punch himself by the end of the day. Great.

Picking up pace, he did eventually end up in front of the Kage Tower. Just in time to see some ANBU from the Third Battalion rushing in. Feeling him behind their backs, they turned around, coming face to face with him. Him!

Oh, for fuck's sake. One of them squealed in surprise. Ok, what the fucking hell?! Was Sasuke that horrible?! His wife screamed, and not of pleasure, whenever she saw him. Goddammit, they had been stuck with each other for over a year and she still couldn't get over the fact. He would have expected for her to at least get accustomed to his face. Now, maybe it was the sex they had had a few days ago (a few long, very long days ago) that made her twitchy. Gee whizz, he wasn't all that sure. Sarcasm was the lowest form of wit, but sometimes it was the only thing that fit a situation.

Sex did not explain why dumbass ANBU were so damn twitchy, however. And why the fuck they were coming in through the front door. Like, were they for real?! ANBU never came in through the front door. Kakashi would murder them … Mind you, Sasuke was coming through the front door as well. Mostly because he had hidden his ANBU uniform somewhere and hadn't felt like going to recuperate it beforehand. The būchō would try to whoop his ass for that. Look at Sasuke shaking in his boots. He was peeing his pants, man. Who had said shit about sarcasm?!

Pushing past them, he stepped into the lobby of this bureaucratic monster known as Konoha's administrative heart. Ok, yeah. He was giving the world a duck-walk. Like fuck, ever since he'd come back to Konoha a few years ago, people had forgotten he actually was Uchiha Sasuke. Y'know, the guy that almost destroyed the world. Imploded it from the inside out. 'Cause, had they remembered that fact, he wouldn't have heard gasps on his path. People wouldn't have dared giving him that wide-eyed what-the-actual-fuck look, either. First time they saw a neutered dude?! No one around the damn place went to get their cat fixed?! How much lower could he fall, comparing himself to a spayed cat?! Well, Uchiha Sasuke would remind the Kage Tower that he was Uchiha Sasuke.

Taking a stand in the middle of the lobby, he turned his resting bitchface to one side, pinned some dicks with his glare. Turned his resting bitchface to the other side. pinned some more dicks with his glare. All eyes were averted immediately. Exactly, bitches. Uchiha Sasuke ain't gonna take no shit from a bunch of desk jockeys.

He did eventually end up in the seventh circle of hell. Only to be welcomed by Akimichi Chōji. Munching some more processed shit as was his habit. What the fuck was the asshole doing, standing in front of the elevator and staring at its door like a goddamn freak?! Oh, well, maybe he was going back home after a day of work?! Because unlike some people, Akimichi Chōji took his damn job seriously. The look those small, porcine eyes threw his way made Sasuke's balls– or what remained of them, shrivel.

"Damn, Uchiha. That was not a smart move. When Kakashi catches you he'll–"

"Teme!"

What the fuck was it with Sasuke?! He had a fucking emitter screwed up his ass and Naruto was programmed to locate him wherever he was?! Well, maybe not. The dōbe still hadn't figured out where Sasuke lived. Thank all the pantheon of Shintō gods (damn, he was getting religiously assimilated by the in-laws).

"What the fuck were you thinking?! And where the fuck were you?! Holing yourself up like a rat! Dude, when Kakashi gets to you, he'll–"

Naruto, on the other side of the hallway, did not have the time to finish his warning. Speaking of the wolf. Kakashi, most probably having felt himself mentioned twice, had appeared out of the blue in front of Naruto, with his back to the idiot. In a swift move, the captain's fist made contact with the dōbe's motormouth, sending him flying towards the wall. And a concussion for the guy with a dead baby-chicken on top of his head. Anyone ever noticed how Uzumaki's hair was like a fluffy baby-chicken (you call those chicks, Uchiha)?!

Naruto was stronger than Kakashi, no doubting that. Kakashi was just faster. Smarter. More experienced. Had Sasuke mentioned smarter?!

"Dude, ain't gonna stay to see the massacre", Akimichi mumbled under his breath, pushing past Sasuke. Hiding in the elevator.

And that guy was supposedly ANBU-of-the-month. Well, geez, thanks for the support, asshole. Not that Sasuke needed it anyways.

Slowly, Kakashi advanced towards his prey. And honestly, the best defence Sasuke could think of was plastering fuck-you wallpaper all over his face. That smug, self-satisfied smirk that appeared on Sasuke's eternal bitchface did have the expected effect. Kakashi saw red. That little fucker had turned his calm, well-organized life upside down more than once. And that was cool, Kakashi managed. But having that soon-to-be-extinct wank stain reporting to the Hyūga before showing his dumb ass at the Kage Tower had been …

There actually was no word to express the humiliation Kakashi had felt. That self-centered piece of shit had virtually set the shinobi ranks on fire. Questioned the Hōkage's authority in one of the most disgusting ways. Fuck Tsunade, who the fuck cared about Tsunade?! Everyone knew Kakashi was leading the show. He was the main man. The only shit that kept Hyūga Hiashi's bony ass from parking itself in the Hōkage's leather armchair. It was his authority Uchiha Sasuke had questioned.

All the ANBU battalions, all the shock units, even the fucking Riots, knew that Uchiha Sasuke, the Uchiha Sasuke, had, instead of running back home to lick Kakashi's anus as was expected of them all (with extra tongue, thank you), gone to suck at Hyūga Hiashi's balls.

Kakashi was like the patriarch of a big family. How could he be expected to keep Otō under control, how could he be expected to teach the other members of the Continental Alliance how shit was done, when he couldn't even keep one of his rabid dogs leashed up?! As well, even if he would have never admitted it, Kakashi couldn't stand the arrogant looks the Hyūga shot him. He had all the trouble in the world to keep those assholes under control. What the fuck would hinder them now from simply going to report to the Hyūga first before Kakashi could get the prime of all the info they brought back?! Because of course, spying units consisted mostly of Hyūga. For obvious reasons. And if they did report to the compound before Kakashi, all the documents they would actually bring back would be as trustworthy as their word of honor. Kakashi wouldn't have trusted their word of honor to save his life.

As the big boss stopped two inches from him, towering over Sasuke and giving him a glare that should have made him go pussy on the situation, the Uchiha realized that someone from above had truly pushed the repeat button on his life ever since he'd married in the Hyūga clan. His life in a few words. Sexual tension, washroom, bedroom, kitchen, Kage Tower, mission, Hyūga compound. You could shove Naruto and Sakura into that and there. Uchiha Sasuke's life. Repeated. Over and over. Again. He had no fucking idea that in barely a few months he would regret it, his repetitive routine of jerking off in the washroom before going to tango with Kakashi. Jerking off and Kakashi in the same sentence. Sasuke's smirk slipped and his mouth twisted in an annoyed grimace.

Grabbing onto the Uchiha's collar, Kakashi didn't care much about the poor love's miserable existence. Actually, his only wish was to make it more miserable. And funny shit, Sasuke let his old sensei drag him by the collar under the surprised eyes of bystanders. Well, as surprised as ANBU could get. The būchō's bulging, icy eyes were a priceless sight. They could bet there was no smile underneath his eternal mask.

Somehow, they ended up in Kakashi's office. Well, one of his many offices. The crummy one. Not the fancy, sexy, leather-covered bureau, with plenty of books and other highbrow BS where Inuzuka Hana went down on him. Thinking about her just transformed his bad mood into a very, very foul mood. And that is how, letting go of Sasuke, Kakashi turned around, lifted his foot while the Uchiha gave him that enraging you-won't-dare look. Yeah, well kicking his sorry ass was on the menu, just that actually, literally kicking his subordinate didn't cross the būchō mind. He didn't need one of those sly Hyūga lawyers to tightly roll up a lawsuit and insert it politely into Kakashi's anus because he physically mistreated poor darling Uchiha Sasuke. Not that Kakashi was delusional. He could try, but he wouldn't as much as brush his finger against a strand of Sasuke's hair, that much he knew.

Nah, Kakashi's foot made contact with the door behind Sasuke's back and closed it shut. He actually kicked the shit so hard the top hinges broke and the damn door just slipped. But hey, it was still blocking the route to any asshole who would have the bad idea of interrupting Sasuke and Kakashi's little tête-à-tête. Not something they had to worry about, there was no one, but one in the Kage tower that would have had that bad of a death wish. There was death. And then, there was excruciating suffering topped by death.

As his old sensei kept himself barely an inch away from his face, Sasuke wondered what the fuck the asshole wanted. Come on, it wasn't the first time he, or anyone else in the force for that matter, disregarded the rules. Something pretty foul must have crept up Kakashi's ass for him to come after Sasuke's in such a way. Usually, he would've just bitch'n'moaned, sent Sasuke to do some push-ups or, worst-case scenario, forced him to clean the shitters with a toothbrush. Not his style to bore a hole into the Uchiha's thick skull with his sharp blue eyes.

"What the fuck do you want, būchō?"

The last word had been spat with pure, concentrated disdain. Because nothing, but nothing, could faze Uchiha Sasuke. And no one, but no one, was the boss of him. Plus, to say the truth, he wouldn't have minded piercing the abscess and taking his bad mood out on Kakashi. The fucker had been sniffing up Sasuke's anus ever since the end of the war. Well, his old pupil was getting sick and tired of having his sensei's muzzle up his. A little beating would set shit straight between the two of them.

Grabbing a handful of jet-black hair that had grown pretty long, Kakashi hit the back of Sasuke's head against the tilted door, as if he truly wanted to break the thing out of its hinges. The sound of wood vibrating resonated throughout the Uchiha's head, making his ears ring ever so slightly. Yeah, well, if the old shit wanted to give him a concussion, he had to find something a little harder than rotten wood. The rude half-smile that grazed Sasuke's lips was enough of an indication.

"I'd watch your mouth, if I were you."

Kakashi flashed his perfectly-aligned, shiny, white choppers in an irate sneer. Was said that dudes with long teeth lived a lengthy life. Not that they could be seen under his mask. However, Sasuke could bet that all dickheads that made poor soldiers miserable on a daily basis lived even longer.

"Why bother when you're keeping an eye on it for me. Whatcha gonna do now, būchō? You gonna kiss me?"

Smart-mouth Uchiha in all his glory, with extra slang.

"If your wife doesn't wanna do you, what makes you think I'd want to?"

That had been a low one. There was no way for Kakashi to know Sasuke had gotten his dick mashed by the delicious, bouncy ass of none other than Hyūga Hinata. And Sasuke was damn lucky the son of a bitch knew jackshit about it. 'Cause not only would Kakashi have ridden Sasuke about it. But the whole damn unit would have heard about it. Then, the old wanker would have gone to tell the Jōnin all about it. Of course, by that point, the Riots would have already spread it out to the whole village. The serfs would have brought it back to their masters in the countryside. It would have transpired through the borders with Kaze, Rai, Otō, Kusa and other fucking countries Hi no Kuni had a border with. Yeah, ok, Sasuke sucked at geography. You would have thought that a dude that had crossed the world by foot would have– Oy, that was so not the point of this whole crap.

All that to say, Kakashi had had no idea Sasuke's balls were not only as dry as a desert but also neutralized. What he did know was that seeing Uchiha Sasuke's arrogant puss contort in badly concealed rage felt like having a pair of onsen geisha from Yu no Kuni sucking at his own balls. It might have actually felt even better than that.

"Listen up, you little wank stain. I am fucking fed up with you. Had I been asked, you would have been left to rot in prison. Your asshole would have been so stretched by the time you would have come out of there a cart would have fit in it. Cow included."

Yeah, no, that didn't sound menacing to Uchiha Sasuke. He was no one's bitch. Wherever he went, he always was the alpha male. Not one of those pussies closed up with him back in the days he had served his sentence had as much as dared breathe the wrong way around him. Let alone tried their luck with his asshole. As for himself, hairy keisters had never been his thing. Nor had anal sex, for that matter. Like, people pooped out of assholes, you realize?! Back to the matter at hand, a close-up of the būchō's face a few millimetres from Sasuke's nose.

"You fucking think I don't know what you're up to, huh, Uchiha?!"

Kakashi slammed his forearm right under Sasuke's chin, making an infructuous attempt to strangulate that treacherous, backstabbing cockroach that he was stuck with. And yet, even though he was eating shit on a daily basis, trying to train a bunch of mercenaries into a semblance of loyalty towards their country (which was everything but loyal to them in return, granted), doing his best to neutralize the Hyūga where and when he could (which implied trailing Tsunade like a bloodhound) and taming the wild dog Inuzuka Hana was (every man needed a hobby and he'd read all the Icha Icha novels a good thirty times already), Kakashi did feel a pang at the idea it was Uchiha Sasuke that he was having a beef with. Obito's heritage was still alive and kicking. Hatake Kakashi would always be weak where Uchiha Sasuke was concerned.

"Going to suck Hyūga Hiashi's dick before coming to report here, huh? You trying to gain some cookie points with your boss? Would've expected more of the Uchiha Sasuke. You've become nothing but a vulgar henchman. To none other than the Hyūga. Now you're gonna open your big trap and tell me what you told them."

Nice opinion their būchō had of him. One that would have made Sasuke smile earnestly for once had he not gotten pissed at the very mention of Hyūga Hiashi. He honestly didn't want to hear a shit about that family of lunatics at the moment.

"Now you're gonna open your big trap and tell me what the fuck you told them. Then, you're gonna sing like a canary about what the hell the deal between them and you is."

Sasuke simply raised an eyebrow at Kakashi. Like, fucking seriously?! The guy had gone completely paranoiac since he'd become ANBU-būchō. He saw plots everywhere. Plus, having Hyūga marching in on him and threatening him as Secretary of Defense didn't help. And you know what, Sasuke started seeing plots everywhere too. He couldn't smell the Hyūga either. For all it was worth, as a show of empathy, he could tell the asshole what was up.

"Come on, Hatake. We both know that the very instant Naruto and Sakura set a foot on Konoha territory, the Hyūga already knew all the shit that had gone down. They know when you take a dump, for fuck's sake. They don't need me to inform them about anything. They're everywhere around you. Wanna bet they are aware you're exciting yourself on my ass?"

Kakashi got convinced he would never punch Uchiha Sasuke's lights out at that instant. If he didn't break his teeth after such an arrogant speech, he simply never would. It was amazing how the cocksucker could keep his dumb mouth shut for years and yet, when he actually did open it, he still knew how to be a little prick. It was amazing. Not.

You know what, Sasuke was sick of having Kakashi abusing his personal space. In a swift movement, he grabbed onto the būchō's arm, sending a wave of chakra through his little finger. It was more than enough to make the asshole blanch. Yeah, his little finger was enough to take out one of the most dangerous shinobi in the world. Sasuke would've appreciated for all the assholes that gave him some attitude to remember that.

Kakashi's eyes widened at the pain that spread through his whole arm. He wouldn't be able to keep his teeth clenched for long. And the Uchiha knew it. It was written all over his cold, black eyes. The fucker was enjoying this. And he wasn't over with his old sensei. The asshole wanted to know what was between them, huh?! Sasuke would tell him in simple terms he could understand.

"What I told them? Nothing. They didn't even ask about the mission. They couldn't give less of a fuck. Like myself, actually. What there is between them and me? The temptation of pressing a Hyūga's tight ass every night not enough of a reason for me to get one? How about Sharingan eyes? That good enough of a reason?!"

Yeah, Sasuke should've kept his trap shut. Tacit agreement between the Hōkage, the Hyūga and him. The Sharingan was to remain unmentioned in talks about their alliance. Just that, a tacit agreement wasn't really an agreement, was it? At the way Kakashi's eyes widened, Sasuke was at least sure the dickhead believed him. He could finally let go of Kakashi's arm. No offense to the cocksucker, but he wasn't Sasuke's type. Actually, with how things were looking, Sasuke would never have a type again. His shit about tight Hyūga asses had been bluffing. Big time.

Kakashi could finally take a breath as his subordinate removed his hand from him. So much power in one little finger. Naruto was stronger than Sasuke, no doubting that. Sasuke was just faster. Smarter. More experienced. Had Kakashi mentioned smarter?! So that was the shit that had left Tsunade pensive for days around the time Sasuke had started courting the Hyūga. The Sharingan. What the fuck were they thinking?!

What the fuck was Sasuke thinking?! Was he seriously that fucking dumb?! Shooting him a long, furious glare, jaw set under his black mask, Kakashi wasn't all that sure. Put Uchiha Sasuke in the middle of a battleground, surround him with shinobi and look at his genius shine. Put Sasuke in the middle of a compound full of conniving rats and …? And what?! Kakashi didn't know.

What he did know was that nothing was free with the Hyūga.

"You don't know what you're doing, Uchiha. What you do fucking know however …"

The būchō turned on his heels, approaching the crummy, paper-covered table in the middle of the damn room. The Sharingan. The Uchiha had been the Hyūga's main obstacle on their path to complete monopoly over Konoha's political scene.

It had taken them barely a century to eradicate the Senju by promoting misalliances. Hazing their minds with pleasures hidden deep in the abysses of the Hyūga compound. Pleasures that would leave the Senju, Tsunade's father included, panting and reeling. Demanding more, always more, staggering and drunk as they were. And what remained of the most illustrious clan that had ever led Konoha? A unique, childless heir that was indulging a little bit too much in what had been her family's demise. And that did not have the strength to stand up to the Hyūga.

The Uzumaki, feudal lords, shinobi and tyrannical masters of Kusa no Kuni, shrewd and in appearance just as righteous as the Hyūga, had liked to haggle with the unofficial rulers of Konoha. Greedy and avaricious, the Uzumaki had seen their riches inflate as they had imitated the Hyūga clan in its ventures. It had all been good sport. At least until the Third Great Shinobi War had given their main partners a good opportunity to drive the Uzumaki into the ground. Now, the vestiges of one of the oldest clans, one that went back to the times of the Empire, were sold off as serfs. And their daughters could be found in the seediest brothels sprinkled on the roads leading to all shinobi villages, used to the point not even dogs would have wanted a piece of their putrid flesh. Unless they had the good luck of crossing paths with the likes of Orochimaru.

There had been but one man that had had the courage, the will to stand up to Hyūga Hiruka, and then to Hyūga Hiashi. Namikaze Minato. Kakashi's mentor, his sensei, his friend and leader. Him and the Uchiha clan (taking in account the Inuzuka clan had been formed around that time and had had no political weight whatsoever). It was suspected the Hyūga had offered the Uchiha, in the time of Uchiha Madara, when the Hyūga themselves had been nothing but a lowly class of bureaucrats and advisors, a piece of the pie. And that, with the great arrogance that was common to the Uchiha, Madara had told them to shove their proposal up theirs. He must have smelled the arsenic the cook had added to the pie-crust.

In the end, Namikaze Minato had ended up five feet under. And eight years after the end of the Third Great Shinobi War, the Uchiha clan had been wiped off the surface of the earth. Kakashi could bet that, hadn't Danzō's house miraculously gone up in flames after his death, the village would have found a lot of shit incriminating the Hyūga in the Uchiha affair. Everything to appease his own conscience, eh? To forget he had played a vital role in the affair. The knowledge didn't help his crappy mood. Not one bit.

The interesting bullshit was that all of a sudden, maybe because, after all these centuries of having fucked the village over, they had come in contact with their own conscience, the Hyūga decided to hand over their ex-heiress as a customized incubator to bear Uchiha children. Uchiha children with the Sharingan. And here you had dumbass Hatake Kakashi believing for ages it had all been a show of Hyūga supremacy. Y'know, look at how big their balls were, so big they even nudged Uchiha Sasuke, the last member of that pain-in-the-ass clan that had tried, albeit unsuccessfully most of the time, to fuck them over.

And the Hyūga's hidden agenda was all nice and shit. Super interesting. But it didn't help with the problem at hand namely–

"What you fucking do know however is that you made the ANBU look like a wanker fraternity."

At those words, Kakashi kicked the heavy wooden table, sending enough chakra through it to make an iron door melt. Damn. The thing shot up in the air, turned around and Sasuke was witness to the table's legs getting stuck into the ceiling. There was a fucking table … on the ceiling. A wooden table. Screwed tightly into a concrete ceiling. Yup. Sasuke had definitely made the ANBU look like a wanker fraternity. The message had been received and processed.

As white and yellow sheets of paper danced all around him, falling from the skies (or from the table on the ceiling), the main boss passed a weary hand over his eyes.

"You have no fucking idea what you are doing, Sasuke."

Oh, they were back to the Sasuke shit, ah? It had been years. Sasuke would shed a tear. Not. He didn't like it when that asshole took that holier-than-thou tone with him.

Turning around, Kakashi looked as if he'd aged ten years. A line had settled between his eyebrows, making him seem ancient and exhausted. He felt like a carcass to say the truth. Wondered whether he smelled like one too. Couldn't very well lift his arm to give his underarm the sniff-sniff routine. But he should've, because with how hectic his schedule was, he might not have had the time to take a shower before meeting up with Hana to partake in their favorite (not a favorite with him all that much anymore) extracurricular activity.

"I am not your enemy."

Then why didn't the fucker tell Sasuke why the hell he acted as if he actually was his goddamn enemy.

"You don't know jackshit about the Hyūga."

Nobody did. You had to be close to them, real close, to smell the rotting corpse underneath their perfumes and expensive kimono. And trust Kakashi's word, they would never let the Uchiha get that close. And what about Hinata? Kakashi remembered her the day of her wedding. Cold, unfeeling. Nothing to do with the girl, leaning a little bit on the dumb side, that had hidden behind the posts of the Daisan Enshūjō. To spy on Uzumaki Naruto of all people. Sasuke had been the heartthrob and yet, Naruto had gotten all her attention. The little cocksucker hadn't known how to appreciate it.

The Hinata of back then would have been an ally, the Hinata of now though … The Hinata of now, with her beautiful porcelain skin and her full lips pulled into a fake smile, her glazed eyes as dead as those of a fish, was nothing but a Hyūga by-product. Because there was no fucking way the girl that had gone after Uchiha Sasuke's ass during the war would have agreed to this type of arrangement. Unless she had been brainwashed. The Hyūga had simply scooped out her soul. And left an attractive shell behind to be used and abused as one wished. Gave Kakashi an idea of what it was in the Hyūga compound that had had the Senju begging.

"One day, trust my word, they are gonna make you an offer you won't want to refuse. But let me give you a good advice. You better refuse it. Because if you don't, I am going to hunt you till the end of the earth. I won't rest until I have your stuffed head nicely disposed on my nightstand."

"Damn, būchō. Sounds like something I've already heard somewhere. A long, long time ago. Like five years ago, ah? Funny shit, I don't remember you following through on your threats."

The smile that lighted up Sasuke's face had the only quality of being earnest. It was certainly not beautiful. In fact, Kakashi knew that smile by heart. It was the Avenger's cruel grimace. Yeah, well what had the world expected?! That Uchiha Sasuke would revert to the cutie-pie that he was before Orochimaru got a feel of his kiddie ass?! Kakashi had warned the council. He had warned the Hōkage. But they had all been obsessed with the idea of having two perfect killing machines at their disposition. Uzumaki Naruto. And Uchiha Sasuke. Whereas Naruto could be controlled with good rhetoric and demagogy, Sasuke could be controlled only, potentially, maybe by … Uzumaki Naruto. And if the past was any indication, before he got some sense talked into him, he would do a lot of damage.

But of course, the Hyūga wanted damage. What for? Kakashi had no fucking clue. What he did know however was that nothing was free with them. There was no way, if Sasuke honestly got the Sharingan out of it, that the Hyūga would hand over one of their daughters for the meagre temptation of seeing their glory soar in the eyes of the other clans. Too meagre a temptation.

"I am not your enemy, Uchiha. Talk to me."

"I've got nothing to tell you, būchō", Sasuke drawled, his carnivorous smile having disappeared a good while ago.

Honestly, he just wanted to get out of this shit. Had he known Kakashi would go drama queen on the situation, he would have paid him a visit before going to get fucked over by a dead Hyūga Neji. Damn, the būchō was a hell of a possessive son of a bitch.

"The next time you have an irresistible urge to go shove your tongue up Hyūga Hiashi's ass, remember my words. You might very well come back to find your little wifey with a great rack cut open. A nice, straight line from her small navel to the tip of her tender chin will be more than enough, what do you say, Uchiha? I'll make sure it looks like you've done it. I've learned my lesson during the war. If you want to get rid of an Uchiha, you unleash the Hyūga onto him."

"Great idea. Just that damn, I am sure they wouldn't appreciate you believing them that dumb. What do you think, that they'll honestly buy that BS?! That I would go to the trouble of killing her?!"

"By the time they realize their mistake, you'll be dead and buried."

"Tsk, būchō. You underestimate me. You think I haven't learned some shit after the war as well, ah? And even if they do come after my ass, and by some miracle, get rid of me, they'll be so pissed when they find out you fucked them over that you won't last any longer. Wonder who'll go to hell before, you or me. Wanna bet?"

No, Kakashi didn't wanna bet. In fact, he wanted to take a vacation. Go to Yu no Kuni, one of many Hyūga protectorates. Pay himself a stay at one of their onsen resorts. And be surrounded by onsen geisha day and night. He'd have to bring a few boxes of condoms with him. He could guarantee that finding a convenience store that sold those fuckers (aptly named) in the middle of nowhere was a pain in the ass. Obviously, there was no way he would ever be able to convince Hana to simply elope with him into the sunset. Onsen geisha it was for the Secretary of Defense and unwilling ANBU-būchō.

As Sasuke and Kakashi measured each other up for a suit, something behind the Uchiha's back cracked. Turning around the only thing he saw before the door crashed to the floor were fingers and a pair of blue eyes peeking through a hole that the broken hinges had left at the top of the doorway. Kakashi flattened his palm against his forehead as Sasuke wearily sighed.

Taking his leave, he simply walked towards the door under which someone was obviously lying and moaning. He was a fucking shinobi. For fuck's sake. And yet, he couldn't even fall back on his feet like a vulgar cat.

"Oy, Uchiha, transmit what I've just told you to your in-laws."

Not even going to the trouble of turning around, Sasuke stepped onto the door, ignoring the wails that escaped it as he decidedly marched over the wooden surface.

"I bet they already know."

x.x.x

As she examined the throng of screaming, aggressive and violent people fighting for what seemed to be thick, gray, viscous carcasses, Hinata had the impressions she was back in that hangar she had visited a few days ago. Just that, to the smell of sweat was added the stench of fish. White fumes, coming most probably from the sewers, formed arabesques that danced about the broken cobblestones of the pavement. Those small ghosts of smoke disappeared as a gust of wind swept over them.

Ensuring the hood of her coat was still covering her and hiding her features under its shadow, she let disgust settle in. There was something truly disheartening at seeing her compatriots degrading themselves for some cheap, and arguably not very fresh, piece of fish.

Pity was natural to her delicate soul and when taught to look past jewels and silks, Hinata could be brought to understand the hardships of the little people. Her philanthropic actions where Otō and Mizu workers were concerned had proven as much. However, even though she had felt pain a few days ago, as Shino had made her run through Kamagasaki, realizing her own village, her own country was not immune to human misery, it was one thing to ask Hyūga Hinata to open her purse for the wellbeing of the beggars and mendicants and yet another to demand that she associated with them.

Obviously, these restless people were not beggars. On the contrary. Poor merchants' and shinobi wives and the servants of rich bourgeois families were wrestling to get their hands on the best fish they could afford. Hinata had indeed sent away the servant that had been tasked with ensuring Hyūga Hiashi's daughter always had something to eat. However, she had continued to buy food directly at the source, as was Hyūga habit.

Thus, instead of having to elbow her way towards a fish stand, she had been accustomed to visit the main merchant with whom the Hyūga did business. Ochizaki-san would never let the daughter of the Hyūga Hiashi be welcomed and served by his little clerks. She would always be led towards a spacious office where he himself would wait for her, with cookies and the best black tea that could be found. Kissing her hand, all sorts of compliments would leave his thick lips, sugary-sweet and ridiculous. After all, he was nothing but a merchant. Not a very well-read man, vulgar but shrewd. Hinata would simply make her order and whatever it was that she had requested would be delivered to her in a few days' time.

However, the last few days had left her distracted. Who wouldn't have been?! Having Kiba and Shino plotting behind her back, her family dangerously tightening the grip they had on her husband and herself and Uchiha Sasuke– She blushed under her hood.

There was nothing to do but resign herself. She would have to find a way to get to the stand. And there was but one way. A repeat of the technique that had gotten her close to a rink where illegal fights have been organized a few days ago. Ducking, she did not fall to her knees however. Too worried she would dirty her skirt. You could call it vanity. She might have retired, but she still had it in her. No one even felt her lithe form as she slipped between people, avoided being stepped on, contorted and turned adroitly to appear out of nowhere in front of the serf that almost slapped her across the face with the impressive body of a fattened trout.

The man jumped back immediately. His intelligent green eye had no difficulties in evaluating and classifying this strange newcomer. A womanly, elegant silhouette wrapped up in what must have been a very expensive, albeit short, coat of grey felt, with an impressive hood that hid her features. Nothing to do with the stout matrons that made it their point of honor of screaming into his ear and at times, smacking him across the head. Especially when the freshness of his products was wanting. And even less to do with the famished kunoichi that came to direly bargain with him for a slice of salted herring.

He would have given much to see what it was that the lady was hiding behind her hood. Maybe was she the daughter of a rich merchant that had gone bankrupt. And was now stuck buying plebeian food. Surely, the little lady that had made all her father's clerks sigh for her beautiful eyes, and her generously filled purse, would not be able to accept being seen amongst them lowly people, examining stinky fish.

The clever serf narrowed his eyes, wondering whether he would be able to swindle her into paying more than whatever she wanted was worth. There always was a way.

"What does the little lady want, huh?! I've got some nice salmon. As fresh as can be, was fished this morning. Yes, ma'am, this morning."

A low chuckle escaped the crowd. There was no way the horror that cheat was exhibiting would have been fished that very morning. It took a good day to relay seafood from some obscure fisher village of Mizu to Kirigakure's customs and from Kiri to Konoha. But it was all fair sport, they knew. If he could rip-off a dimwitted servant girl, or even better, a merchant's daughter, it was his right to do so and the crowd would certainly not meddle.

Softly passing by his stand, elbowed in the ribs by some overly-excited grandfather that needed to get his hands on that enormous tuna fish on display, Hinata examined with displeasure what was offered. She might not have been the brightest lightbulb on the ceiling, but if there was one thing she knew, it was to recognize good food from bad food. The Hyūga, having ominous connections (and being ominous themselves), could easily get fresh fish from Mizu, or the more expensive specimens from the east of Hi no Kuni. If it was fished in the morning, it would end up on Hiashi's plate in the evening. Hinata could guarantee that what she was seeing was fish of yesterday. The flies buzzing about it seemed to confirm her thoughts.

The serf tilted his head, trying to catch a glimpse of what he believed must have been a decent face. The only thing he did see was a delicate, albeit too small for what was deemed as attractive in the world, mouth, rosy and full. With the lower lip pushing slightly forward. And a rounded little chin. He furrowed his brows suspiciously.

Catching a glimpse of what seemed to be an acceptable skid, the lady's pale fingers slid out of her coat's arms and grabbed onto one of the animal's tentacles, lifting it in the air and bringing it close to her hood. That little white hand was too fine to be that of a merchant's daughters. As rich as the merchant might have been.

"The skid is d-decent", was the whisper the serf heard quite distinctly since he had approached his head to the lady's.

The slight stammer he disregarded. But the intonation! The accent! The pronunciation! It took a good minute for his vulgar brain to process what had been said. It was not the way his masters spoke. And his masters were rich, conceited Akimichi merchants. It was something ethereal. Sophisticated. And archaic. Nothing to do with the widespread, pompous lingo the bourgeoisie prided itself with.

An overzealous customer, having spotted the very specimen of seafood he had been summoned to bring back home, extended his hand to grab onto the monstrous tentacle of an oversized octopus. Fact was, the thing had been right at Hinata's left. And the man had been at her right. The swift movement past her had startled her, making the skid she had been holding between her forefinger and thumb slide back onto the ice disposed in front of her. As she stepped back, she crushed the toes of a little servant girl that in a movement of surprise pulled Hinata's hood back.

The general reaction was immediate. A gasp travelled through the crowd and spread like fire through the whole marketplace. At once, her neighbors formed a wide circle around her, their eyes widening in horror as if they were facing some hideous mythological animal that had come for their lives. A shocked gurgle left the serf's mouth as he himself jumped back.

Hinata felt her blood rush to the head. In a defensive movement, she hugged herself, biting down hard on her molars. She did not have to turn her head around to see their expressions of terror and frightened diffidence. It enveloped her immediately. Her curse, spoken through this multitude of lips that surrounded her. Hyūga, that is what they were all saying.

And at once, the expensive felt coat, the black skirt that stuck to her calves and the leather boots, filled with beaver fur and handmade in Shimo no Kuni, made sense to all. Hyūga. Hyūga. Hyūga. And what was a Hyūga doing among them?! Pretty porcelain doll, anachronism amid them sweaty, poor, tired people. The eyes that devoured her were not kind, were not friendly. They were accusing. If there was one thing that the poor, the mistreated demanded was a respect of rank.

It was known that the ones most victimized by a system upheld it and made it possible for it to thrive.

It did not take long before another name escaped their lips. Of course. Uchiha got associated with Hyūga in no time. Hyūga, even the sealed ones, never stooped as low as to be seen at the market. They did not eat the food of them lowly people. Only ambrosia and nectar for them. However, Uchiha Sasuke, when he had lived in one of the decrepit buildings nearby, had been seen to buy food like any other poor shinobi that did not have the money, or the looks, to step inside one of those big, modern supermarkets found by the Great Alley.

Pulling her hood back over her head, Hinata turned on her heels and made a run for it. Good job, girl. It would be so much more subtle if she preferred the market to one of those highbrow supermarkets with special products from all over the world. It would be so much better to have direct contact with the people than have all her movements reported back to her charming family. That had been her state of mind when she had chosen to go to the market instead of walking a mere five minutes across the street. She had been too much of a snub to be a snub and go to Meidi-ya like all her neighbors.

As tears pricked her eyes, she realized she was paying the price of having snubbed the snubs. There was no crueler observer than the common artisan or worker. Shinobi she was accustomed to, merchants of a certain rank as well. But proletarians and serfs were a whole new world for her. Sure, she had always defended them and lent a helping hand, in the form of financial support, where they had been concerned. However, she had never stepped out of her high tower and mingled amongst them. And now she saw why. They did not want to associate with the likes of her. The average Hyūga slave, well-raised and trained into obedience, did not have a pauper's satirical, mocking and demanding eye.

She did end up in front of a Meidi-ya eventually, debating whether in fact it was not better to simply pay Ochizaki-san a visit and make Sasuke eat prickled octopus tentacles for a few days. He would surely forgive her. Because of course, getting maimed by your wife made you willing to let other offenses pass. Made plenty of sense.

Silently jumping in place, jittery and anxious as she was, Hinata made many fashionably-dressed young women turn around and raise perfectly plucked eyebrows at her. Lifting her head, she looked at the big, flashy sign adorning the store. A strange weariness washed over her. Would it always be said that Hyūga Hinata would never be welcome, would never fit anywhere.

No. She was wrong. She knew where she belonged. She belonged in the shadows with them other strange, undesirable people. With Shino and Kiba. And there was an advantage of remaining in the shadows. You could see everyone. While no one could see you. Marketplaces, supermarkets were not for Hyūga Hinata. She was not an exotic animal that liked being observed, envied, adulated. Unlike other Hyūga women that needed admiration to feed the hungry monster that slumbered in their heart.

Her eyes still raised towards the lighted sign that adorned the store, Hinata's rigid, icy fingers pushed her hood down. Taking a step towards the sliding doors, she almost jumped back as they opened. She got this. It was nothing but a store. It wouldn't be the first time she entered one, come on! It would however be the first time she entered one since the end of the war. And without contacts. She disliked having people staring at her eyes, their disgusted glances brushing over her. She was quite aware that to them there was nothing more horrid than the knowledge of being watched by what should have been blind eyes.

Tentatively, Hinata walked into the store. A saleswoman popped out to her right, making her jump. A salesperson got her to wet her panties, what would it be when Kiba demanded she went on missions with them?! Well, guess what, at seeing Hinata's eyes, the saleswoman startled as well. She remained with her mouth grotesquely open wide for a split of an instant.

Hipsters looking for chia seeds, wives of bureaucrats and advisors, caretakers of old, rich grannies were common enough as customers. At times high-ranking shinobi, mostly kunoichi, that could afford their prices did get lost in the supermarket's lanes. But … Hyūga?! No Hyūga had ever stepped a foot into the store. Regaining her composure at seeing the Hyūga lady as frightened as she was herself, the saleswoman snapped her jaw shut and stretched her big mouth out into a fake smile.

"Welcome to Meidi-ya!", she chirped cheerfully.

Hinata lowered her head submissively at once, examining the strange apparition from under her dark eyelashes. Not only was she a Hyūga; she was an odd Hyūga. Shivering like a newborn kitten. But the saleswoman had seen worse in life. They had had a bum trying to rob them by threatening them with a banana. Nothing could top that.

"Just so you know, we have a promotion on all produce! Twenty percent off everything. As well, we just got a shipment of fresh almonds from Rai no Kuni. Ten percent off if you buy bulk."

In a brusque movement, Hinata was offered a green shopping basket that she examined as if it were a rabid dog about to bite her. After a split of an instant, she did extend her hand and snatched it from the saleswoman's fingers. Clumsily, Hinata bowed her head, letting her long hair slowly slide down her shoulders.

"Ah … ano … thank you k-kindly", she whispered.

No customer had ever bowed to the saleswoman and she was left torn between surprised pleasure and a little bit of fright. There surely was a world of difference between their usual customers and that weird girl. She not only looked like a ghost of the past, she spoke like one as well. And if the saleswoman had never seen a Hyūga before, she would have been sure to mistake the newcomer for a yuki onna having come to hunt for a hero's soul. Sure, because before going to snatch Hatake Kakashi-sama's soul, every yuki onna had to go grocery shopping. Made plenty of sense.

Stepping through more automatic doors, Hinata was welcomed by aggressive neon lights that hurt her eyes. And mounts of fruits disposed in a neat fashion all over a very wide space. Her arms hanging by her side, she felt a certain terror at seeing so much variety. Variety implied choice. And she did not like to choose. With Ochizaki-san, it was so much easier. She ordered. He, or more precisely his clerks, delivered. There was no responsibility on her part. Whatever they got, whatever she served Sasuke, she knew was the best of the best. Only the best at Ochizaki's.

However, finding herself surrounded, not to say encircled, by so many types of apples, so many different sizes and colors of tomatoes, Hinata felt a certain dread at the idea she had to depend on her own judgement to determine what was best. Funny, wasn't it? A small smile, not sardonic the least bit, grazed her full lips and for a split of an instant she forgot that she was the center of attention. She expected herself to be an ally to her sister, to help her make the right decision, while she detested consulting her own judgement to choose between different types of red tomatoes. Not very promising.

However, she did not remember she had taken a multitude of difficult decisions in her lifetime. Surely, her indecision concerning apples from the south west as opposed to from the south east of Hi no Kuni was not a good indication of her capacity to be a deserving guide to a young and impressionable (if Hyūga Hanabi could be called impressionable, that is) mind.

The point was, Hinata, instead of choosing between red, green and yellow tomatoes … filled her basket with an industrial quantity of each type. Because, when you had an Uchiha Sasuke in your house, you never had enough tomatoes, it was a fact.

In no time, her shopping basket was overflowing with all types of strange products she knew how to use but that she would have been hard-pressed to find at the market. Hyūga being accused of nostalgia often preferred spices and meals that might have been common two-hundred years ago. Now, imagine that the plant producing the required condiments had been dead and extinct for the last one-hundred and fifty years! Of course, Hinata was not aware how difficult it was to actually get a few of those items she had nonchalantly dropped into her basket. Ochizaki-san was not only an ominous merchant, he was also quite omnipotent.

However, even though everything seemed so much easier in a store than in a mass of sweaty, tired individuals that had better things to do than struggle their way to an octopus carcass, Hinata felt a very specific type of disgust settle in the pit of her stomach. Whereas the factory workers, the servants had looked at her with a suspicion proper to the frank and the simple people, the young and the fashionable representatives of Konoha's elite shot her evasive, sly looks from the corner of their eye, evaluating her silently. At the very least, if nothing else, the whole village would know that a Hyūga had shopped there. The next morning, the whole store was sure to see all classes of people rushing in and pillaging the place.

What Hinata disliked in them without knowing was in fact how similar the people she was meeting by the butcher's stand, the young women examining radishes (of all things), the young men carrying big canisters of olive oil were to her. It was in fact her proper not to face people and to slyly evaluate them. That is how she had been raised, both by her family and life in general. She did not have Kiba's frank stare that bore through one's soul. Nor did she have Shino's unceremonious simplicity. As people shot her cunning glances, ranking her based on dress, on appearance and especially on what she was buying, she did the same, albeit blushing and confounded. Oh, Hyūga Hinata was her grandfather's granddaughter, there was no doubting that.

Now, of course, things could never go well where Hinata was concerned. As soon as she had to face the rubicund figure of a well-fed butcher, she lost all her means and started unintelligibly mumbling as was her habit. Beef. She obviously wanted beef, but faced with so many inquisitive faces all about her, she couldn't remember what the month was and which type of gyū would be traditionally acceptable to have at home. Because tradition had to oppress her even when she was buying beef. While Hinata was doing her best to face the butcher and determine which beef was respectable to be eaten during that period of the year, Sasuke was … trying to get rid of Naruto. For a change. Something to be said about that damn repeat button on his life.

"Dude. Dude, teme, Kakashi went nuclear on your ass. What the fuck happened to you?! Don't tell me you really are trying to fuck Kakashi over by doing some weird shit with the Hyūga."

Sasuke did his damn best to shut out that whiny, annoying piece of useless life that was Uzumaki Naruto.

"We were so damn worried. Sakura thought a wild boar got to you, or shit. She was sure we'd find you dead in a ditch."

A boar?! A fucking boar?! A herd of bears couldn't get rid of Uchiha Sasuke and they were talking about damn boars?! Wait, did bears live in herds? Whatever. Shooting that bird-brained dickhead his most annoyed, most sardonic glance, Sasuke hoped that for once in his miserable life, the dōbe would take the hint. Which he obviously didn't.

Scratching the back of his head uncomfortably, Naruto examined Sasuke from the corner of his deep blue eyes. Yeah, well, he would have preferred not hearing a certain part of their conversation back at the Tower. He honestly would have preferred not to. A knot settled at the base of his throat and he had to clear his throat a few times.

Uh. Oh. Sasuke knew what was coming. Serious Naruto, that's what. And there was no bigger ass-burner than Serious Naruto. He just hoped, with all his hea– Ok, well, Sasuke might not have had a heart but he did hope that it wouldn't be about Hinata. Every now and then, being the nosy asshole that he was, the dōbe brought up Sasuke's one and only no-go subject. Not that Sasuke would have discussed any other subject with the dickhead. Just that, bringing Hinata up at that very instant would result in an atomic explosion of uncertain magnitude. But Sasuke could guarantee it wouldn't be pretty.

"Listen, Sasuke–"

Oh, fuck. They were at Sasuke, weren't they?! What was it today?! Sasuke-day or some shit?! The day people crapped on him big time. Narrowing his eyes, Sasuke kept them suspiciously set on Naruto's profile. The cocksucker better thread thinly.

"It wasn't about that right?"

Huh? Raising an eyebrow at Naruto, Sasuke just marched on. Curious to know what the actual fuck was going on with the dōbe. There was nothing he hated more than Naruto beating around the godforsaken bush.

"Tch."

"You and Hinata. You didn't marry her because of–", the word got stuck in Naruto's throat, exactly where the knot was.

Raising his hand, he waved his big forefinger in front of his right eye. Honestly, Sasuke wanted to tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he was just so tired. So very tired.

"It wasn't because of that, right, man?! You were lonely, right?! You remember what you said about not being eternal?! You just didn't like the average girls. So you …"

Come on, asshole. Come on. Naruto was sounding like a lovesick puppy, jumping all about Sasuke's feet. A small smile tugged at his lips. The shit with him and Sasuke was that Naruto was always willing to shove his head into the sand where the teme was concerned. He'd done the same about his wedding, hadn't he?

He'd just disregarded the fact Hyūga Hinata, whom he could only remember as cute and sweet, was not the only girl of the type. In fact, he could think of thousands of girls he had believed to be cute and sweet. Hot? Had she ever been hot? She could have been Yamanaka-Ino hot that it wouldn't have been enough of a reason for Uchiha Sasuke to maim his life for the only pleasure of having her by his side. Naruto knew him by heart. If Sakura hadn't been able to conquer him, none other would. However, the desire of keeping him by their side had been enough to make Naruto more than willing to see him settled with a leash around the neck. And there was no leash sturdier than the shit Hyūga could tie around your neck.

He'd seen as much with Hinata. And Neji.

"Dōbe … fuck off."

It had been a plea, not an insult. It had been Sasuke-talk for: 'please, let's not do this right now'. And he sped up. 'Cause that was his nature, whenever shit got difficult, Sasuke just ran away. Human sentiments had a way of making him go pussy on a situation. He didn't know how to … Sakura's tear-stained face flashed in front of his eyes. How many times had he seen such a sad scene? And each and every goddamn time, it had been his fault.

He couldn't face Naruto. Looking straight in front of himself, Sasuke set his jaw. The looks of awe people shot him left him cold as ice. Funny how faster one got used to looks of fear than to looks of adoration. It was naïve of him, especially after what they had been through together, to believe that Uzumaki Naruto of all people knew how to just fucking let go.

Obviously, Sasuke had seen the asshole coming. Why he'd let him grab onto his arm was a mystery, even to him. Pulling hard, Naruto got Sasuke to turn around and to finally face the dōbe. Who didn't look much like a dōbe at the moment. Naruto's perceptive, determined stare made Sasuke wonder whether, if he hadn't been of superior intelligence, those eyes wouldn't have been able to lead him to the end of the world.

"I knew two Hyūga."

Sasuke's black eyes hardened. Naruto could have sworn that they were bottomless pits of darkness. Yeah, they both knew who one of them was. Sasuke's wife. None other than Hyūga, well, Uchiha, Hinata.

"You don't know them, Sasuke. Once you cross a line with them, there is no way for you to ever come back to the other side."

He didn't need any of the dōbe's moralizing. Would it always be said that Sasuke would be a slave to his friendship towards him?! Expected to do as Naruto deemed honorable and just?! Yeah, well, he was getting sick of it. He had actually always been sick of it. Kakashi had been right when he had prophesized, albeit silently, that this calmness so uncommon to Uchiha Sasuke was more dangerous than his outbursts of wrath.

"Sasuke, whatever the reason, we are not your enemies. Kakashi was right when he said …"

You could always count on one thing to save you from Naruto's blossoming intellect. His ridiculously short attention lapse. He made goldfish look like geniuses. Whatever it was that had attracted his notice and made him shut his dumb trap, Sasuke owed it a beer. And you know what, Sasuke still was a fucking curious bastard. Following Naruto's eyes, he craned his neck to see what the hell it was that had the cocksucker mesmerized.

It took him a good thirty seconds to see it. Or better to say, her. A few feet from them, there was a woman (obviously) dressed in a short grey coat, her hands full of those snooty bags made of fabric given out in elitist grocery stores. 'Cause plastic bags were bad for the environment. Boo-hoo. Sasuke would shed a tear.

The dōbe growled. Like an animal. There was a mystery that Sasuke had never been able to solve, not that it had ever truly interested him. How come one's dick, which after all didn't even make up one percent of a dude's body mass, could at times decide the outcome of a godforsaken war. It was beyond Sasuke.

"Look at that ass, man. Fuck me, what an ass."

Pushing his jaw forward in an annoyed movement, Sasuke shoved his hands into his pockets for the ten thousandth time of the day. Naruto during that time, as if attracted by a magnet, marched on, completely forgetting Sasuke's existence, let alone what they had been talking about. Because that was one hell of a nice ass. The soft sway of the chick's hips had a way of hypnotizing him.

Raising his hands, the dōbe traced the curve of her hips and butt in the air.

"This must be fucking genjutsu. I would know if there was a bitch with an ass like that in the village, trust me. You think she has huge boobs too?"

Well, it might have been genjutsu, for all Sasuke knew. It was Naruto's weakness after all. But if it were genjutsu, then Sasuke could guarantee that whoever got the chance to undress her might have a surprise. For having seen the dōbe play transvestite, he could guarantee that some fuckers out there could have tricked even him. And he was the Avenger, with a capital a. Pissed as he was at the asshole, he let but one word drop and looked at Naruto scrunching his face in pain.

Sakura, that's what the bastard had said. And it had had the expected effect. Almost.

"Teme, don't be such a little bitch, my man. Come on. You can't compare that chick to Sakura."

His eyes trailing down the said woman's back, Sasuke let his stare settle on the frenetic jumps of her thick, black braid. A svelte, yet rounded silhouette. A little too tall for his liking. His scorching gaze did stay a split too long on her ass, he admitted it. Yeah, she was hot from the back. But then again, she could be ugly shit from the front. Wouldn't be the first time he'd seen a hot body with a monstrous face. However, basing his opinion only on what he saw, he had to admit Naruto had a point. You couldn't compare the chick to Sakura.

They were far from playing in the same league. Fuck, at that point, they didn't even play the same sport. Ten-zero for the chick with the delicious rump. No offense to Naruto's Sa-chan.

"That chick is nothing but a great butt, y'know."

Had Naruto been reading Sasuke's mind, he would have gotten pissed at the idea someone could fucking prefer a tight, round rear to Sakura's bad personality, her mood-swings and her dangerous righty?! Gee whizz, what an idiot such a dude would be!

"She's just about any other chick. You just check her ass out, get a look at her rack, at her face maybe. And that's it. You're done with her. You move on to another one like that. You forget them all, one after the other, trust me, man. They don't mean shit to you. That chick, trust my word, has as much personality as an inflatable sex-doll."

The last words had been spoken with a certain sadness. Funny how Sasuke was sure that had been aimed at him. A reminder of how he had used to pass time, huh? Oh, for fuck's sake, would Naruto just leave him alone until tomorrow?! Sasuke was about to bribe him, no shit. He could just dump him at Ichiraku's, order six bowls of rāmen and run away. That would keep the dōbe occupied, he could guarantee.

Yeah, well, he did have a point. Such chicks didn't mean shit to you. However, strangely, Sasuke's stare stalked back up her spine to rest on her braid. Such brilliant black hair. Whereas Naruto had focused all his attention on her ass, Sasuke would have admitted that it didn't interest him all that much. He had better at home. Ok, ok, as good at home. Just that Hinata's rear was art, it fitted with the whole. And the whole had made sure Sasuke wouldn't had been able to get excited at the sight of a nice backside even if he had wanted to.

There was something oddly calming in the way rebellious strands of hair escaped the woman's braid and danced about her shoulders, like fairies. It brought Sasuke back to a rainy evening at the Hyūga compound. The Hinata of that evening had truly struck him. And just because this woman reminded him of her, he wouldn't have minded having a look at her face.

Naruto though couldn't have cared less about the chick's face. He had something else in mind.

"Bet she has a huge rack? Would be a shame to waste such an ass on a flat-breasted chick."

The dōbe's mischievous grin made Sasuke wonder whether he would be able to save some money after all. Looking at hot bitches was free, whereas rāmen wasn't. Good thing Sakura hadn't been with them. Naruto would not have lost his focus so easily and Sasuke would have gotten an earful. But without her?! Heck, Naruto was free to have his eyes roam about any chick that had the misfortune of crossing his path.

Just that, damn, Sasuke hadn't expected for the dumbass to act on his curiosity. Before he had the time to break Naruto's arm, the dickhead brought his fingers to his lips, shoved two of them into his mouth and whistled. The sound was so strident Sasuke was sure he would remain deaf till the end of his life.

And he wasn't the only one thinking like that. The cocksucker had startled the whole street. Tens of stupefied pairs of eyes turned their way. Old grannies, dressed in neat, dark yukata, their wrinkled faces pulled in menacing scowls let a few disgraceful words drop. Servant girls, their arms full, stumbled here and there, doing their best to get a good look at the two handsome men that were obviously begging for some attention. Well, the dōbe might have been begging for it. Sasuke sure as fuck wasn't. His bitchface was enough of an indication.

The girl that had had Naruto interested staggered, almost spreading out on the ground. That horrible whistle had been unexpected to say the least. Curiosity overpowering her and too delicate to activate her Byakugan, she did turn her head. At that very moment, a cold gust of air, a reminder that spring was yet to come, unleashed her black tresses all about her face, hiding most of her features besides the eyes.

Well, had Naruto bothered to check her out, he would have seen that her coat was not enough to conceal the curve of her breasts. He had won his bet. She had a big rack. Just that, at that very instant, he couldn't have cared less about her boobs. Sasuke for his part felt his jaw contract painfully and almost bit down on his tongue.

His breath hitching in his throat, Uzumaki Naruto let his fingers slip from his lips. His muscled arm limply fell to his side. And he stood there. Torn between disbelief and dread. Those eyes. Those big yet sleepy eyes, bordered by long, thick eyelashes … Had anyone asked him what Hyūga Hinata looked like, he would have been at loss for words. He never remembered her. Mostly because his mind tactfully kept away from reminding him she had been part of his life. A very small, sad part of his life. And yet …

And yet, he could have recognized her in a crowd of thousands of faces. He might spend years without seeing her; she could change drastically, but he would always recognize her. He would never mistake her for any other Hyūga. And God knew they all fucking looked alike. He didn't need to see the rest of her face to know that the woman whose pale eyes, wide in astonishment, were holding his was Hyūga Hinata. The way Sasuke's muscles seemed to coil underneath his own coat only confirmed what Naruto already knew.

It could not be. It was another one of her horrible hallucinations, cruel dreams that had permitted for Neji's memory to plague her until it had chased her out of the compound. But she had never seen Uzumaki Naruto appear in front of her eyes. A freezing stream seemed to pass through her veins, forming ice crystals throughout her body. Ice crystals that did not permit for her to move an inch. But that lacerated her loins.

No, this man, taller than what she remembered, his deep, blue eyes having lost that smiling twinkle in their midst at the sight of her, was real. With the way his stare was passing right through her, clearing himself a painful way within her …heart, she wondered whether in fact she wasn't the illusion. She did not feel the bags in her left hand slipping from her fingers and falling to the ground. A few onions and a cabbage rolling into the street.

A little boy, seeing the pretty lady had dropped a few of her bags, ran from behind the curtain of a tailor's atelier, not even taking the time to slip on his geta. With much enthusiasm, since he had never seen such a pretty lady, he went chasing the onions and the cabbage. Being from the countryside and having come to become apprentice to an elegant tailor, no one had yet told him to keep away from Hyūga. As he approached, his arms full, his presence made Hinata snap out of her trance. And the strange bond that had formed between her bizarre, white eyes and the still beautiful, blue ones a few feet from her dissolved in the air.

She was grateful for the distraction. Stammering and blushing charmingly, her eyes filling with tears, she painfully thanked the boy that neatly placed the produce back in the bags, lifting them for her to recuperate them. She had not noticed the other man by Naruto's side.

"There you go, ma'am."

It took her a few seconds to compose herself, and clearing her throat a few times, she did her best to smile kindly. Self-control. Her father had always told her that steadiness of feeling was what every shinobi needed to tend to. A warrior whose feelings and thoughts were written all over his face was useless. She had always been useless, however.

"T-Thank you."

However, the smile she flashed the boy made him scowl slightly. He was not very elegant and had not learned to make himself agreeable to the high classes. What his father had however taught him was that he should be nice and polite to girls and ladies. And politeness in the countryside implied helpfulness.

Taking out a few coins from her pocket, she offered them to the sweet little boy, to whom she owed more than having recuperated her vegetables. Confused at so much money being pressed into his palm, he protested warmly. The sad smile that played along the lady's small mouth silenced him.

"It is a show of t-thankfulness. It w-was very gallant of you to help me."

The word gallant was a greater recompense than a mountain of coins would have been. However, his hand closing up on the money, he felt a pang of sadness at the lady's worried expression. She was indeed very thankful to the boy. She would do as if she had not seen Uzumaki Naruto. She would ignore him fully and completely, walk on, concentrate on pushing away the remnants of longing that had fed the monster inside of her throughout her childhood. Hinata would find a way to shut out the images that were passing through her head. Memories of Neji's death intermingling with strange illusions of what her future would have been with Uzumaki Naruto by her side.

Her stomach heaved and the boy noticed it. Even though he was barefoot and his little toes were starting to take a blue hue, even though the cold air was passing right through his ugly beige yukata, he took the decision to offer his skinny arm to the lady. She was ill, obviously. And cold. She was shaking so much. If he ran off, he was sure to get his ear scuffed by the tailor, he knew. But it was worth it. Gentlemen helped ladies in distress.

"Do you want me to carry your bags for you, ma'am?"

His voice, simple and unassuming, sliced through the haze of her mind. Scorching hot fingers slipped across her wrist before removing the bags from her grip. It had not been a child's hand.

"No", was the curt answer, spoken in a stern, categorical way, reaching both the boy and Hinata.

Surprised and scared, even if he would not have admitted it, the boy took a step back. Shocked at the appearance of the newcomer. He had of course heard about Uchiha Sasuke. In fact, as a child, when he and his friends had played shinobi, there had been a friend of his that had always wanted to be Uchiha Sasuke, because he was the strongest among all shinobi. The boy would always be stuck playing Hōkage Sarutobi Hiruzen and get killed early in the game, to his great displeasure. Hey, at least he hadn't been stuck playing Orochimaru. There was worst shit in life than getting killed before one's time.

However, having never seen the legendary Avenger himself, he was not aware of the delicate situation he had found himself in. The black eyes that dismissively brushed over him were promising a lifetime of nightmares if he did not take the clue and disappeared.

The uninvited stranger extended his other hand and grabbed onto the lady's delicate arm, pulling her fiercely towards him. Fearfully, Hinata raised her moist eyes. Her surprise was great when instead of being blue, the eyes that met hers were black, black like a sinner's soul. Uchiha Sasuke's stare had the effect of a cold shower on her. At once, her mind became sharp and clear. Neji was kicked back towards the darkest spot of her brain. Uzumaki Naruto was forgotten immediately even if he had remained barely a few feet behind them.

A determinate jerk got her to take a step. They would have walked on, had a small, brown hand not shot out and grabbed onto the bags in Sasuke's hand. Not the right thing to do. Snapping his head around, the look he shot the stubborn little boy would have been enough to make the most courageous shinobi cower. However, the boy did not know who he was, and being a child, he did not care much for the palpable danger of the situation. Had Sasuke not been in a very foul mood, he would have been impressed.

Generally speaking, he had more patience for children than for dickheads like Naruto. Or for snotty pains in the ass like Hyūga Hinata. And the boy did deserve some praise. Sasuke, even though he was a hopeless asshole, did appreciate shows of chivalry. Maybe because he had never himself been a very chivalrous kid. Not that Itachi hadn't tried to inculcate him some principles.

Unfortunately for the kid, however, Uchiha Sasuke had just witnessed a very unpleasant show of intimacy between his best friend and what was supposed to be his fucking wife. Who was walking outside even though Sasuke would have expected that after gotten a beating some time ago, she would have understood that her place was inside, not outside, the apartment. Sasuke was not aware Hinata had gotten rid of the Hyūga servant that had brought them food weekly. All in all, he was about to punch someone's goddamn lights out.

"Ma'am, is sir disturbing you?"

Lifting her head, her lips trembling just as much as her whole self, the lady gave him again one of her sad smiles. The boy was from the countryside, his manner of speech betrayed him. No city children would have dared as much as approach Uchiha Sasuke, since all of them knew his face by heart.

Softly shaking her head, she whispered a few words she wanted to sound reassuring.

"N-No. But thank you."

Sasuke tore the bag out of the boy's grip and moved on, pulling Hinata along without any pity. His feet now completely blue, shivering as he was, the boy wasn't sure whether he should run after the scary man and defend the lady. She had not seemed very willing to follow the scoundrel. But before he could take a step, a warm pressure on top of his head made him look up.

A tall, blond man, scowling and following the couple with his sharp blue eyes had settled his big hand on the boy's brown hair. And strangely, that warm hand was very calming. Snapping out of it, the man looked down into the boy's surprised eyes and, ruffling his hair, shot the kid a playful grin. The type of smile that would have made the whole village trail the man till the end of the world. Heck, the boy himself would have run off with him and made himself his apprentice had the man wished it.

"Don't worry, kid. It's her husband."

Rummaging through the pockets of a short, orange coat, he produced two small bonbons wrapped in colorful paper adorned with cherry blossoms. Cherry-flavored. Naruto ate them even if the shit wasn't to his taste. However, the color of the sweets reminded him of Sakura's hair, so he was sure to have his pockets always full of the crap. Shit was, only two remained and that's all he could give the kid.

Dropping the candy into the boy's palm the same way the lady had done with the money, the tall man set out, attracted as he was by the couple that had left him behind without even shooting him a glance.

Hyūga Hinata. Heh. Who would have thought?

As the boy resigned himself to going back to his master's atelier, he was left astonished. The tailor was standing in the door way. Obviously, having noticed his apprentice was nowhere to be found, he had peeked out from behind the curtain covering the entrance to his store. He had been ready to scold that lazy good-for-nothing and threaten him profusely. Would have told him something along the lines of countryside, village and kick in the butt.

To his horror, however, he had caught the boy picking a beef with none other than Uchiha Sasuke. The whole street had witnessed it. When the boy had been told that the black-eyed man with bad manners was none other than the Uchiha Sasuke, he had almost crashed to the ground, faint as he had become at the mention of it. The tall blond man for his part had been the legendary hero, Uchiha Sasuke's noble counterpart. The kid's hand had convulsively tightened around the candy Uzumaki Naruto, of all people, had given him.

And the lady? The lady's name had been fearfully whispered into his ear. Hyūga … no, Uchiha Hinata-hime. The Uchiha's bride. Envy had made his eyes open wide. Uchiha Sasuke's wife, a pretty lady. He knew, young as he was, that he would never see the likes of her again.

Her name and her face would forever remain engraved on his memory, however. And thus, as a man, hidden in the basement of his own atelier, his pregnant wife pressed against his side and their son sitting on his knees, he would tell stories of when he had been eight.

While Akatsuki no Kuni would shell Hi no Kuni with fiery projectiles, he would tell them about how he had met the man that would eventually be erased from all of Konoha's annals and only referred to as the Satsugai-sha. As well as having seen the face of Shimo no Kuni's mysterious yakshini. His wife would not believe a word. But when he would tell her that the yakshini was ten thousand times more beautiful than what the legend maintained, he would be sure to have his ear scuffed.

x.x.x

Sasuke had no idea what to do with her, honestly. The woman he was pulling along, strands of her silky hair caressing his cheek now and then, was a fucking calamity. Not only did she get beaten up, not only did she castrate him, but she had to be walking around, attracting the village's attention on him. He fucking hated attention!

And what the fuck had been that look Naruto and her had exchanged. He had kinda understood the two of them had known each other back in the days. As in before she had become Uchiha Sasuke's property … wife, he meant wife. She had graduated at the same time as they had. Had taken part in the genin exams as well, at least so he had been told. He didn't remember her the slightest bit. But the idea Naruto and her were intimate enough for him to give her that beaten-dog look that he only kept for special occasions was an ass-burner, big time.

But funny shit, Sasuke wasn't feeling the same crap concerning the fact a Hyūga Neji had been part of her life and the fact Hinata and Naruto seemed to be chummier than what he had expected. What truly disturbed him was that he liked to classify his belongings. And to separate them from the belongings of other assholes. What was his was his.

He didn't like sharing armors, swords and all that crap. Sasuke would have never offered Naruto his towel so he could dry his hairy ass in the showers. Therefore, the idea of sharing his wife didn't sit well with him. And he wasn't talking about sex. He was talking about her attention. There were already too many people around her. Her sister. Her sensei. Her sensei's kid. Fuck that shit, Naruto wasn't welcome the least bit. It wasn't jealousy. It was possessiveness. If the need arose, Sasuke would mark his territory. He could still piss, thanks.

The problem with Naruto was that he considered everything of Sasuke's his own. There was no fucking way Sasuke would help Naruto deepen or restore any friendship he might have for Hinata. Even though Sasuke did not mind sleeping on Naruto's couch, he would have minded very much Naruto sleeping on his.

And it wasn't because Sasuke was a fucking profiteer. Well not only. It was mostly due to the fact that the dōbe, unlike himself, was loud, messy and needed a shitload of attention. Whereas Sasuke slept, pissed, showered and disappeared (he wouldn't have eaten at Naruto's if he had been paid, Sakura wasn't a shitty cook, she was plain dangerous with food), Naruto not only slept, he had to drool too. He did not only piss, he had to piss on the bowl. He did not only shower, he had to leave body hair all about the washroom. The fucker had an impressive shag that made him look like a bleached monkey when he undressed. But that was not the problem at hand.

And ok, maybe he was a little worried, not that worried was the right fucking word. Worried implied he felt threatened, which he sure as fuck didn't. But the goddamn way Naruto had spoken about her before she had turned around in the street hadn't been a good omen. The shit with Naruto was that he obviously acted on his desires. There was no way he would have ever tried to have sex with her. That was off-limits. Sasuke would have to kill them both at that point. If he couldn't fuck her, no one would. Fuck his guilt of the past months. He considered them to be quits, he had hurt her the first time, she had stabbed him in the balls.

However, for having seen a drunk dōbe grab onto Yamanaka Ino's ass, Sasuke could guarantee that he would have no qualms of feeling Hinata up when the opportunity arose. Especially if he were doped up. And unlike Yamanaka Ino, who had broken his jaw that time, and then told Sakura all about it, Hinata would not know how to defend herself. She would end up snivelling in their walk-in closet. And honestly, Sasuke did not need for her to snivel. If she started snivelling, he was out of there permanently. Fuck the Hyūga and the Sharingan.

For all these reasons, Uzumaki Naruto had to be kept away from Hyūga Hinata. And maybe, not that Sasuke would have ever admitted, did he like the idea of her being only his to look at. She was ornamental to say the least. His thoughts made him scowl dangerously and Hinata, examining him shyly from the corner of her eye was sure she was in for it.

The good with her husband being so menacing was that he made her forget about everything else. Her only concern was to keep her head attached to her body for another day. They've both had a bad day. And dinner was not made. Was he the type to discipline his wife?! The idea made her blanch. She knew general Hōheto was not against thrashing his wife. And his concubines. And his mistresses. And the servant girls he got his hands on. Hinata had seen the blue and red marks on the ladies' legs and arms.

A whimper was threatening to escape her. She swallowed it up and it stayed stuck at the base of her throat. Gnawing at the inside of her cheek, Hinata was trying to imagine what it was that he would do to her. Neji and Naruto forgotten fully and totally. The effects of a desire for self-preservation were impressive. She would think about both Neji and the fact she had met up with the bane of her existence after the crisis situation represented by the ever-so-handsome Uchiha Sasuke was averted.

He had been very mad a few days ago. And it had resulted in him … in them … Would he …? She stumbled over her feet. She would have actually preferred for him to hold onto her wrist, like that other time. Just to feel the warmth of his skin against her own. Her thoughts brought back her all-pervading blush.

Sasuke was so taken up by Naruto (and he still maintained the two of them didn't nibble at each other's nuts?!), while Hinata was completely focused on Sasuke, that neither one of them noticed the tall blond man that was tailing them stubbornly, his head tilted to the side. Examining them shrewdly. They were so distracted (he couldn't very well imagine that the teme was actually thinking about him instead of Hinata's great ass, Hinata and great ass in the same sentence, who would have ever thought?!) that they didn't even realize they were leading him directly to their building.

Hah, the cocksucker swearing he would never tell Naruto where he lived. Think again, sweetheart. His hands in the pockets of his showy orange coat, Naruto was quite at leisure. Fuck him. He would have a shitload to tell Sakura. Well, he would keep out the fact Hyūga Hinata had gone from fat to hot. Ok, ok, she had never been fat, but there sure as fuck had been more of her. And now? Pff, nothing left. He regretted not having gotten a good look at her face however. But dude, she had a nicer ass than Yamanaka Ino. As for her boobs, maybe just as big. Or even bigger.

Kakashi had been doubting Sasuke's motives in getting married. Naruto's worries on the other hand had been set to rest. He himself would have honestly gotten married for less. In fact, now that dickhead-Uchiha had thrown his bachelorhood through the window, Naruto had started looking at rings. Because of course, Sakura wanted it Western-style. They had already talked about it. There was nothing he could afford. She wanted a huge-ass diamond and platinum. Like, did Naruto look like he had a bank growing up his ass or something?!

Looking around himself and letting the little lovey-dovey couple out of his sight, he noticed the very clean pavement, the snotty cafés and restaurants. The clubs that would come alive as soon as the clock struck eight p.m. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. The Great Alley. The two of them had dragged him towards the Great Alley. He would have never guessed Uchiha Sasuke, Mr. Crummy-Apartment (his bachelor by the marketplace had been even crummier than Naruto's apartment and generally speaking, Sakura and Naruto could only afford ugly-ass, cheap-o stuff), would be living in one of those high-rise, sexy buildings that made Sakura sigh wantonly (wantonly was the word, indeed).

Generally speaking, Naruto tried to keep away from the Great Alley, or that part of the city in general. Just that he had been so preoccupied with moralizing that he hadn't even noticed Sasuke had dragged him towards the center of the village. The reason he never went there?! Sakura, for fuck's sake. She was turned on by money. Luxury. He had desperately tried to wean her off of it. It had all to do with Ino being rich and Sakura being the daughter of an upper-class merchant who had developed a successful business specialized in providing serfs to whoever needed them (slavery in less sophisticated terms) mostly because he had been as greedy as a usurer. Actually, the dude was a usurer in his free time. He had already tried to lend Naruto some money. It had been a damn scary experience. Which explained why Naruto never borrowed money from Sakura. She was tough shit, man. Like, she was the type to increase the interest rate by five-hundred percent.

All that to say that if he had had the bad idea of taking Sakura to the Great Alley, he would have been stuck sitting straight on the uncomfortable chair of one of those snobbish restaurants he despised, drinking red wine with his pinky-finger pert and alert. If he wanted a stick up his ass, he would insert it himself, thanks.

Plus, the tab would have most probably forced him to take out a loan. Potentially at the father-in-law's, which was a no-go. You'd think he would at least get her to go down on him in exchange, huh?! Yeah, the hell she would. Sakura would come back home so pissed he wouldn't get any for the next ten years. Simply because dinner at one of those restaurants wasn't enough. She wanted more. She wanted to be part of that society. To reach the likes of Yamanaka Ino … actually, not even Ino could afford an apartment in that part of town. Only a … Hyūga could.

Squinting, Naruto was left wondering what the place Sasuke was stuck living in might have looked like. The asshole liked to run away now and again. And Naruto honestly couldn't see why he would have been running away from Hinata. The apartment must have been quite horrible for the teme to always look for an excuse not to go back. If Sakura got a look at it, she might get cured of her fever for the expensive and luxurious. Scratching at his stubbly chin, Naruto didn't think before he opened his big mouth. As mentioned before, he had shitty impulse-control.

"Oy, teme!"

The insult made Hinata freeze immediately. Sasuke for his part realized he had forgotten to chase the dōbe away before having the bad idea of dragging Hinata back home. Which meant that … the dōbe now knew where they lived. Because they were standing barely a few steps from the entrance door to their building. Fuck. Sasuke's. Miserable. Life.

"Thanks for the invitation, my man."

Hinata's eyes widened and she turned them towards Sasuke. She was horrified and her reaction made Sasuke lift a condescending eyebrow at her. Not that Naruto's shit made him happy, mind you.

"We'd love to come for dinner. We will be there at seven p.m. tomorrow."

What the actual fuck was the asshole talking about?! Hinata's legs gave in. Had it not been for Sasuke's death-grip on her arm, she would have honestly just hit her head on the pavement. Dinner. Sasuke had invited them for dinner. She felt nauseous.

Before Sasuke could actually open his mouth both to tell the asshole to shove a dick down his throat and to assure Hinata that he had never invited the likes of Naruto for dinner, the dōbe had disappeared. No. Nuh-uh. This wasn't happening. Nope, there was no way him and Sakura would be coming for dinner. Would as much as step a foot into the building's lobby. Over Sasuke's cold, dead body. They could ring at the main entrance as much as they wanted, nobody would open. Sasuke could guarantee.

And what the hell was wrong with Hinata?! She was out cold. Shaking her mercilessly, he barked:

"Move."

Yeah, well he had barked at her in the morning, he would bark at her in the afternoon. She was a calamity, he'd said so previously. But hey, his ordering her around had the expected effect. She obeyed. Was that what he was supposed to do with her?!

'Drop the panties.'

'On all four.'

'Ass in the air.'

'Open your mouth.'

'Come sit on my disco stick.'

That last one … what the fuck?! Letting go of Hinata's arm, Sasuke tried to pass a wary hand over his eyes. He didn't go far with that since she just leaned forward and would have crashed (and potentially burned) had he not grabbed onto her again. What the fuck had he done wrong in his short life?! Did he really want the list?!

"Tch."

He almost kicked the front door in. The security guard at the reception kept his poker-face, simply nodding at them. To Sasuke's surprise, since two seconds ago she had almost kissed the ground, Hinata moved away from him. He let her go; he had better shit to do than carry her all the way up to their apartment. They weren't newlyweds. And honestly, even when they had been, he hadn't gone to the trouble of swinging her carcass (her hot carcass, even Naruto agreed with him, that last thought made him want to punch something) over his shoulder.

Approaching the security guard, she whispered a few words to the man who didn't stop nodding his head in understanding. Ok, yeah, we get it, you suck Hyūga dick, buddy. Sasuke for his part just went to shove his key into that elevator device shit. He just wanted to eat. That was the only joy left in his poor life. He wasn't even allowed to kill or maim people anymore. What was it worth living for at that point?! Oh and had he mentioned there was no fucking way Naruto or Sakura would step a foot into his apartment?!

Hinata did eventually come to place herself by his side, just in time to enter the elevator. Now that the wind wasn't blowing all about her, he could smell the delicate perfume that emanated from her hair. It made all the muscles in his body contract. He would never forgive her for that morning. As he was telling himself that, he felt it. That stir that always made him want to punch something. Yeah, well, you would have thought that having her ass almost exploding his balls would have been enough to make him more careful around her. Well, fucking think again.

Pissed as he was and not willing to go anywhere where he would meet up with Naruto, like the gym for example, he didn't know how to get all his anger out of him. Actually, he did know. There always was that good old way. Just that Hinata didn't pay him any heed. She was just standing there, her little brows knotted, her lips pressed into a hard line, so uncommon for her. Far from him. Far from everything surrounding her. She herself would have given much for someone to make her snap out of her thoughts again.

Naruto for his part, when he returned home, didn't enter a building lobby and was welcomed only by the stench of cat piss. Good thing they were living on the third floor, he was sure someone had crapped in the basement again. Now and again some dude came to crap in the basement. Some psycho, most probably. Marking his territory or shit. Better that than the time that chick on the first floor had covered the walls with her monthly blood. That had been pretty crazy. But well, Sakura was only part-timing at the hospital and since Kakashi had become Secretary of Defense, there had been cuts in their salaries. Good ol' Kakashi. Greedy fucker. They couldn't afford any better at the moment. Cat piss, poop and menstrual blood it was for them.

Climbing the stairs two by two, he felt a heavy mass settle in the pit of his stomach. He was cruel, he knew. He wasn't dumb enough to believe Sakura would be happy to know he'd kinda forced Sasuke to give them an invitation for dinner. Actually, not exactly Sasuke. He was counting on Hinata having very well heard him scream to the Great Alley he had been invited. He knew her enough to be aware she was too proper not to open the door when they would show their faces. Sasuke would have kicked them to the moon; Hinata would make them a delicious dinner. For having eaten her food, Naruto could ensure it was the best in the village. After Ichiraku's rāmen. Nothing could beat rāmen, mark his words.

As he shoved the keys into the front door, he realized the shit was stuck again. He better not kick it out of its hinges this time. Sakura punched holes into walls. Naruto kicked doors in. Resulting in them getting kicked out every now and then. There was nothing that irritated him more than playing around with the damn doorknob. The shit was completely loose. Pulling on it could honestly just make it fall out. He did eventually open the door and was welcomed by the agreeable perfume of air-freshener. Sakura might have been a shitty cook and had a horrible personality, but she was the tidiest person he knew.

Taking his geta off in front of the entrance, he stepped in and kicked the door shut, forgetting all about the fact that he shouldn't be mistreating the shit. Front door, living room-slash-kitchen, that's how the apartment went. No entrance hallway for them. And no dining room either. They had a tiny bedroom, more like a cupboard, no bed. They didn't need it. The washroom was a joke. It was a national holiday when they had hot water. And honestly, this tiny place where Naruto could breathe easy he wouldn't have exchanged for anything in the world. He didn't need more. The only thing he needed was Sakura.

Whenever he saw a hot chick, after the first wave of enthusiasm washed over him, Naruto realized how goddamn cold and sad anonymous fucks must have felt. Nice asses, big racks didn't keep you warm when electricity went to hell in the middle of the winter. Great cocksucking skills didn't comfort you when you woke up in the middle of the night, memories and nightmares haunting your eyes.

Naruto had known only one girl, only one woman. And honestly, even though his bro' Sasuke was considered as the bitch-magnet par excellence, he wouldn't have exchanged Sakura for all the chicks Sasuke had slipped onto his dick, as crass as that sounded. Naruto looked, and that's where it stopped. Ok, he had groped Ino that one time he had been a little tipsy. It had earned him a broken jaw. And twisted testicles. The broken jaw he could thank Ino for. The twisted testicles, Sakura. She had almost tied them in a knot.

He had fallen as low as to remember with fondness everything he had gone through with his balls. Desperate shit not to think about Hinata. About those pale eyes that had looked right through him. As had always been their habit. Often, when they had been children and teenagers, when Naruto had been alone in her company and able to force her to say a few words to him, he'd had the impression that she hadn't been looking at him. She had been looking through him. Seeing something past him. And it had scared the damn soul out of Naruto. Those pale eyes passing right through his flesh, through his soul had dissipated the smallest bit of affection he could have ever felt for Hyūga Hinata.

Sure, he had been flattered, at age fifteen, to hear that at least some girl, any girl, had a thing for him. And there was something to be said when the girl was a Hyūga. And the eldest daughter of a clan leader. But her eyes, her dissecting, probing eyes had simply made it impossible for him to even think about dating her for the heck of it. Then again, at that time, Neji had been alive and Naruto was sure that he would have gotten the whooping of his life had he even thought about dating Hinata for the heck of it, just to have little lips to kiss and breasts to press. Because of course, Naruto would have had the goddamn guts of fondling an heiress's boobs. Ok, well, she hadn't been the heiress. But still, Hyūga Hiashi's daughter, man.

Throwing his coat over their crummy, moth-eaten sofa's arm, he stepped into a narrow hallway, his shoulders barely fitting between the walls at either side of him. He knew very well where Sakura was. The same way she knew very well he was in the place. Heading for the shitter, he knocked at the door. More like beat the crap out of it.

"Oy, Sakura, you taking a dump in there?"

"Of course not", was the offended reply that reached his ear.

Good. 'Cause he was cool with her taking a piss, but a dump was off-limits, big time. The good thing with his Sa-chan was that she never locked the door. Mostly because she was scared to get stuck in there. Oh, she could open the shit just fine. But with the damage she would do to it, they would get kicked out. Again. Grabbing onto the knob, Naruto threw the door wide open.

And was welcomed by his favorite sight. A bitchfaced Sakura glaring his way, those gorgeous green eyes twinkling dangerously. Her lip between her teeth, she was doing her best not to send him to go fuck himself.

"Do you mind?", she snapped taking a good look at him.

He had gone out in nothing but a tank and his thin coat again. Well, if he expected her to nurse him when he got down with pneumonia, good luck, buddy. The hell she would. The goofy, lewd smile that pulled at his lips as he checked her out, from head to toe, almost made her laugh.

There was nothing, but nothing, Naruto liked more than looking at Sakura shaving. It was a fucking obsession with him. Dressed in a white button-down, he was sure she was naked under the shit. He loved the curve of her little foot, placed on the toilet's lid, the way her soaped up, white leg glistened under the neon lightening of their cupboard-sized washroom, her plain bun on the top of her neck, disordered and pink.

"Damn, Sa-chan, you could've have told me you'd be shaving. I wouldn't have gone out. Fuck it, Kakashi ain't worth it."

She couldn't abstain from smiling. That big, frank smile Naruto adored. Nothing like the sly, deceitful and fabricated smiles she had used to serve Sasuke. Naruto was such a dōbe, honestly. He had fucked up fetishes, to say the least. But she couldn't hold it against him. Some assholes couldn't bear looking at a woman doing her legs, whereas her asshole could. He might have been on the dumb side and messy like hell, but she wouldn't have exchanged him for anyone besides … The corners of her mouth quivered and her smile dropped.

Ignoring Naruto leaning onto the doorway, she continued passing the razor over her pink leg hair. Funny shit, it wasn't all that pink anymore. It had started paling a few years ago. Like the hair on top of her head actually. It wasn't truly pink. It had started taking a hue between pink and pale gray. It made her ovaries shrivel. Badly.

You ever tried finding a hair salon that could produce the very shade of pink you needed?! And the shit had to look natural. Not like a candy factory had vomited all over your head. Well, it was expensive. Damn expensive. And when Sakura bought shit she would dump onto her beloved hair, hair that was growing long and sexy (she was over the short hairdos, thanks), she invested. Only the best hair salon in the village got the pleasure of having her as a customer and selling her their dyes. A ritzy, funky hair salon where she couldn't afford the full-on treatment. Downtown Konoha, obviously.

"Did you shave your pussy already?", he drawled perversely, his eyes throwing lightning bolts her way.

Sighing exasperatedly at his vulgarity and stopping short with the slow movements along her leg, Sakura raised her head and gave him her shittiest attitude. Not even Yamanaka Ino could have pulled off that bitchy no-nonsense glare. Shaking her razor in front of her face, she almost gave him the middle-finger.

"Get the hell out of here, you pervert. Before I cut your balls off with my razor. I'll make sure to go slow so you suffer plenty."

"Damn, you're ferocious today. Let me do it. You know I am a good little shaver."

Marching towards the shitter, he pushed Sakura's foot away, pried the razor out of her fingers and tapped the space between his legs. Raising a perfectly plucked, pink eyebrow at him, she placed her foot barely an inch from his crotch.

"Prove you've got skills, genius."

Grinning up at her, it felt like it was his fucking birthday. And Naruto loved his damn birthday. Sakura, as stingy as she was, could be very generous when it was Naruto's birthday. And he wasn't talking about dumbass gifts. Fuck gifts. He was talking about something else. His eyelids felt so heavy as he observed her small, pink tongue point from between her white teeth. She was driving him crazy. Insane. She dominated him fully and totally. And he didn't want it any other way.

Caressing her sticky skin with one hand, passing the razor over her knee with the other, he didn't mind it one bit. Being at her service. Anything to make life easier for her. Sakura had left a rich, well richer, merchant family to come live with him at the age of seventeen. And he hadn't been able to offer her anything of the comfort she had been accustomed to. But she hadn't bitched. Well, she hadn't bitched too much. Unless they were going for each other's throat, she generally kept her mouth shut about their shitty situation. She did like to remind him how nice Ino's apartment was occasionally. A big loft covered in contemporary paintings. Sai's of course. But it was bearable. Naruto could take her shit from time to time.

Once he was done with the lower part of her left leg, he swiftly pulled her ankle over his shoulder. Yelping in surprise, Sakura caught the hem of her long, white shirt and pulled it down. Naruto's angelic smile morphed into something more carnal, carnivorous. He brought his lips to her knee and kissed the soft, moist skin, marvelling at the smell of milk and orange flowers emanating from her soap. Extending his hand, Naruto slid the razor from the top of her thigh down to her knee. Making sure to keep his thumb always turned towards the inside of her thigh, he felt her shiver whenever he got close to the top of her leg.

She closed her eyes and focused on his caresses. She was so engrossed with them that she forgot all about having to keep her shirt down. And fuck him, Naruto noticed her relaxing. Softly lifting the hem of her shirt with the razor, he tilted his head and took a good, hard look.

"Aw. You already shaved there. You know it is my favorite part."

Snapping out of it, her eyelids fluttered open and her stern glower pinned him right in the sternum. He loved that part of her as well. He couldn't really say that he loved everything about Sakura. However, those small things that made him want to worship at her feet were more than enough to make him forget the big shit that would have driven other guys, like Sasuke for example, fucking nuts.

Raising her hand at him, Sakura made a movement to wipe that lecherous smirk from his dumb face. She would have slapped his lights out had he not been faster and grabbed her wrist before the palm had made contact with his cheek. His eyes never leaving hers, he brought the soft flesh of the inside of her wrist to his mouth. Naruto let his tongue caress a blue vein, very satisfied at seeing Sakura's pupils dilate.

You see, that was the type of shit you could never have with the likes of Hyūga Hinata. First, because she had no fucking pupils. Second, because she was shy. There was no way Sasuke would ever be able to make pubic hair jokes with her. Hell, she was the type to commit suicide for less. She was as funny as the carcass of a rhinoceros. Grey. And dead. Mind you, Sasuke wasn't exactly the type to make pubic hair jokes, huh?

Looking down at him, Sakura felt her blood rush to the lower part of her stomach as Naruto brutally kissed the inside of her wrist, her palm and with more force than she had expected from him bit onto the first phalange of her forefinger. A cry, between moan and shriek, left her lips. In just as violent a movement, Sakura released her hair. Her locks, wavy from the bun, were not as pink as when she had been a little girl. No, they were paler, of a softer color than what he remembered. It made him sad. At twenty, they had already started aging, had they not?

Removing her leg from his shoulder, yanking her hand out of his grip and bending over, her eyes twinkling more dangerously than ever, she grabbed onto the collar of Naruto's tank and pulled him forward abruptly. Her warm breath fanned over his lips. He parted and licked them immediately, as if he could taste her. Mockingly, almost cruelly, Sakura tilted her face to the side, keeping her lips barely an inch from his.

"You haven't proven you've got skills, Uzumaki Naruto."

At those words, her hand slid down his chest, scratching at his abdomen promisingly, before roughly grasping his pants' waistline. In no time, slowly, tantalizingly, the zipper was pulled down and her fingers disappeared inside of Naruto's boxers. His brow flared, but before he could throw his head back and growl like the dumbass that he was, expert lips crashed onto his. Damn, Sakura was taking the lead. Praised be the Lord. She tasted her own soap on his lips. Salty, alkali with a floral tinge.

Letting go of him brusquely, she straightened, lifting her shirt and placing herself above Naruto before lowering herself onto his knees. She turned around for a split of an instant and threw the razor she had tugged out of Naruto's hands into the bathtub. It made a clinking sound as it hit the ceramic.

"You're up for the challenge? You can still pull out, y'know."

"I've seen Sasuke today …", Naruto spluttered.

One thing to be said about Naruto. He was not a fucking sleaze. He was as hard as a pole. His shitty sex-life had been improving ever since Sasuke's shitty married life had started deteriorating. He wanted Sakura. And wanted her bad. He could've let her ride him and told her afterwards, saying adios to his sex-life for the next year or so. He could've but he hadn't. Felt exactly like that time this dude in the forces had told their unit how he had dropped the b-bomb on his girl right after having had raw dog sex with her. The b-bomb, abbreviation of break-up bomba. It had left Naruto feeling pretty gross. He wasn't gonna do any such shit. He was pathetic. But proud. Very pathetic, granted. And not all that proud. Just enough.

Fair enough, Sakura froze immediately, lost all her inspiration and just stared blankly at Naruto. And then, she just stood up. Pulled at the hem of her shirt. And sat on the edge of the bathtub, massaging at her eyes. And having fully and totally forgotten how ridiculously horny she was.

"Well, at least he didn't get trampled by a horde of sanguinary boars", she breathed sardonically, staring right through Naruto.

"Yeah", he mumbled back.

He fucking hated when she looked through him and talked as if her only interlocutor was herself. Shoving his painfully erect dick back into his boxers and zipping his pants up, he cursed juicily, wondering why he didn't just fucking walk out on all this crap. Because he loved her and because she had never asked for him to leave her. Well, at least not after the war. Until she told him to get lost, he simply wouldn't. That's why he needed Sasuke. And Hinata.

The fucker had carried her grocery bags for her. Uchiha Sasuke had carried someone's something. When he was squatting their place, Naruto couldn't get him to move his tiny dick from the couch when he wanted to pass the broom underneath the damn shit. And there you had the asshole carrying Hinata's bags for her. Ok, ok, half of her bags. Which was already more than what he had ever done for Sakura.

He had touched her too! Sasuke didn't touch bitches (not that Hinata was a bitch, Naruto wouldn't have dared). Well, ok, when he fucked them, he must have grazed them with something more than his dick, granted. But he didn't touch chicks in public. Naruto had seen how he picked them up. It was something along the lines of 'move your ass'. And he judged the bitches he would do based on 'how far away is your place'. Heck, Naruto had seen the fucker pick up two chicks at once that one time and he hadn't even let his hands trail down to their asses to feel the merchandise up. The teme didn't touch them bitches in public.

Naruto wasn't a sleazebag. However, he did feel the wake-up call was overdue. Sakura had been sleeping at the wheel ever since the end of the war. Ever since her eight-year old eyes had beheld Uchiha Sasuke's cherub face, actually.

"He invited us to have dinner at their place."

Focusing, Sakura gave him a surprised look, as if he had fallen from the goddamn skies. Appeared out of the blue. Poof, magic. Her heavy eyelids, her open mouth and her head tilted to the side made her seem doped up big time.

"Excuse-me?", she whispered softly.

Throwing his head back, he settled it uncomfortably on the water reservoir and intertwined his fingers over his six-pack.

"Sakura."

Damn, he was calling her Sakura. Not Sakura-chan. Not Sakura, love, darling, baby. And sure as fuck not Sa-chan.

"Sasuke wants us to visit them. Him and Hinata."

At the mention of that last name, Sakura felt her insides contort, go up in flames. Her breath hitched and her palms became sweaty. Dropping her head, her hair fell like a veil around her face. She let her thoughts stray again. Hinata. Always Hinata. And now they were expecting for her to go visit them?! Some sort of vengeance for what Sakura had done to her? That same image that had been haunting her ever since Sasuke had married the girl flashed in front of her eyes. Yes, that image of Hinata pissing blood in the middle of nowhere and Sakura doing her damn best, giving it her all, to save her life. Her stomach heaved.

"And what did you tell him?"

Ah, yeah. The snappiness was back. Naruto sure as fuck hoped she'd thrown her razor out of reach.

"Tomorrow, seven p.m. You ain't shifting at the hospital, right?"

At those words, he stood up swiftly and stalked out of the washroom, heading for the fridge, still as hard as ever. And honestly, irritated with Sakura. Which didn't happen all that often, you had to admit. He'd just shot his sex-life in the balls.

But hey, who knows. When Naruto's shitty sex-life deteriorated, maybe Sasuke's shitty married life improved.

Not that Sasuke would've agreed with that last statement. He'd entered the apartment to see Hinata almost hit her head on the wall as she tried to pick up her boots. Wasn't a good omen where his sex life was concerned. She fucking tried to pick up the boots with the hand that was holding all her grocery bags. And of course, she dropped the shit again. Oy, if she was that retarded and clumsy, Sasuke better not let her get close to his dick.

Dropping to her knees right in front of him, Hinata did her best to recuperate the red tomatoes that had jumped out of a grocery bag and rolled towards Sasuke. To top it all off, instead of grabbing the tomato by his foot, she grabbed his foot, squealing slightly. She just realized he was standing in front her. Was she fucking for real?! Surprise numbing her mind, memories, at the interface of nightmare and dream, assailing her, she raised her eyes to his.

On her knees, her eyes raised towards him, lips parted and brows flaring, she couldn't imagine the effect she had on Sasuke. A woman was truly ruling when she gave the impression of submitting. The male was a vain, and often stupid creature, whose conceit, once flattered, was like a gaping wound. A weakness that needed many coagulants not to bleed out. One would have been surprised to know how good of a remedy flattery was. Happily, as astonishingly weak as Sasuke appeared to be to the charms of what seemed to be a truly compliant woman (there was nothing less compliant than women who tried to seem it), he hadn't yet fallen as low as to demand being cajoled.

"Tch."

Passing a hand through his hair and tilting his head to the side, he gave Hinata a long, not very appealing, look. He had been able to control himself once in such a situation. He wouldn't be able to do it twice. Wait … what was that?! Fuck him. His dick was back from the dead. Praised be the Lord. Was this the moment he gave the world a little happy-dance or shit? 'Cause Uchiha Sasuke was back in the game. And his reflex?

Instead of pushing Hinata to the floor, as he had already done, and fuck her raw right on the tomatoes (sexy artisanal tomato sauce), Sasuke took a horrified step back. Screw that shit. He wouldn't let that crazy woman ever come near his dick. Ever again. Her hair messy and escaping an abused braid, her mouth pouty and crimson, having been whipped by the cruel hand of the wind, and her eyes twinkling dangerously, calling him to come and unveil the secrets in their depth, Hyūga Hinata was trying to prove him wrong. He would come to her.

Sasuke was fucking repeating himself?! He had had that situation a few months ago. He had been able to avert the catastrophe. He would do it again.

"Move", he barked crossly, making Hinata snap out of her thoughts.

Confused and frightened, she recuperated her tomatoes, shoved them into one of the bags, reached for the ones Sasuke had abandoned himself, and forgetting her boots, she ran away. Cursing under his breath, he was left wondering whether it wasn't him that was pulling a Hinata. He'd be barking like an enraged dog for the next three days and then kick her in the fucking ovaries or shit? He didn't know. What he did know was that he was dying of hunger. He'd had a pretty shitty day. No, really?!

Taking care of his own boots and leaving Hinata's behind (he wasn't her cleaning lady; very ungrateful and ungenerous thought taking into account she seemed to have become his), Sasuke got rid of his clothes, undressing here and there, not caring the least bit if Hinata would walk in on him jumping in place and struggling with his pants in the middle of the living room. Having dropped off all his stuff in the laundry room, Sasuke was left cursing under his breath. Long gone were the days when he would spend months and years wearing the same shit daily, washing it every few weeks in a freezing-cold creek. He had more clothes than Sakura, no competition. Heck, at this goddamn point, he was sure even Ino would feel jealous.

Funny shit, as he stepped out of laundry room, Sasuke had a very strong impression he'd forgotten something really important. The fact he was scratching his six-pack should have informed him about what it was. However, that look Naruto and Hinata had exchanged was monopolizing all his intellectual abilities. Which wasn't much, not that he would have ever admitted. Naruto had been startled, surprised, astonished. Hinata however … Sasuke would have been hard-pressed to name the emotion that had transpired on her features. Horror? Terror? Disgust? Well, all in all, it hadn't been positive.

He warily opened the door to the dining room. And … what the actual fuck?! Sasuke had gotten accustomed to being welcomed by a copious meal. Whenever he deigned gracing the dining room with his presence, that is. Food trickling down the sides of the damn table. Aromas of forbidden pleasures (screw sex at that point) titillating his nose. The sparkle of grease blinding him. Where was his little piece of heaven?! Naruto considered Sakura his little piece of heaven (while the rest of the world, or at least Chōji, considered her the seventh circle of hell). Sasuke considered the most vulgar union between carbohydrates, lipids and proteins as his little piece of heaven. Yup. And it was nowhere to be found. Now, that was what he called hell.

And Sasuke was damn willing to get pissed. Actually, he'd been pissed since … since... Well, he couldn't remember the exact date and hour his shitty mood had started, but he was quite sure he was in a pissy mood. A little more, a little less pissed, what difference does that make? The only thing he was actually thinking about was whether he would punch or kick the door to the kitchen in. Since he couldn't take a satisfying decision, he opted for turning the damn doorknob. He sure as fuck would teach his wife a lesson. Or at least, glare at her a whole lot. Fuck man. And here he had been thinking the girl wasn't going out at all. In fact, he'd been imagining her sitting at home, on their nice, cold leather couch. Staring at the mastodon-sized TV. At the turned-off mastodon-sized TV. During ongoing hours. Without moving an inch. Without even fucking breathing. Y'know, shit trophy wives did. Generally holding onto tall martini glasses for dear life.

Surely not Hyūga Hinata. Nope, not Uchiha Sasuke's trophy. She just liked to make him bad-trip at the idea she wasn't doing jack because of his being an ass. But in fact, she must have had a very active life, wandering about the town and attracting unwanted attention. Hadn't she fucking seen those questioning glances following her?! Actually, no. Sasuke was wrong. She hadn't attracted too much attention. People in their part of town weren't all that surprised to see Hyūga. They lived in posh-land after all. Posh people were expected to walk the streets. In fact, hadn't Naruto made a mess out of the situation by spotting her great rear, they would have all passed unnoticed. But no, count on that retard going blood-hound on a pretty girl walking the streets.

His hand on the knob, still not noticing something was missing, it dawned on Sasuke. Uzumaki Naruto, his personal dōbe, his bro (sometimes even bruh, depending on how affectionate he felt), his best frenemy, had … fucking checked out his wife's ass. Oy! Sasuke, even though he hadn't laid a finger on that part of the girl's anatomy, did feel like it was his own personal territory, for fuck's sake. Had he ever checked out Sakura's ass, huh?! Nope. Because there was nothing to see, so to speak. There was no way he would let his wife's ass, as plump and curvy as it might have been, be abused by the likes of Naruto. Wait, what?! That had not come out as expected.

Finally opening the door, he stepped in, sore and pissed. For a fucking change. But his desire to give Hinata a piece of his mind disappeared in thin air at the sight of her. Holy shit. An enormous knife in her hand, she lifted it in the air before violently cutting the head of a carrot. Well, if carrots had had head, that one would have lost it, Sasuke was sure. His eyes widened as he was left spectator to Hinata's culinary prowess. She was fast, to say the least. In less than five seconds, the carrot was nothing more but a bunch of small pieces. So that is what it looked like when a psycho cut his victims to pieces, ah?

Her head hanging low, her long hair covering her face, with that ridiculously big butcher knife in her hand, she gave Sasuke the creeps. Big time. Shit was, Sasuke wasn't pussy material all that much (at least, not where fear was concerned) and didn't believe in psycho or ghosts stories. The first wave of surprise passed, he realized that she often dangerously cut close to her fingers. Even though he was known to be good at holding grudges, he wasn't the type to go to the extent of letting someone who had fucked with him cut his or her own fingers off.

Actually, yeah, no. He was the type to actually induce someone to auto-maim him or herself. He could be damn convincing. Ok, ok, he used the Mangyekō. Piss off, already. He was fucking dangerous without the shit too. Kinda. Back to the matter at hand. The idea of nice-to-look-at Hinata without fingers wasn't all that appealing. He had already concluded multiple times he wouldn't have his way with her ever again, but this didn't mean he would accept living with a cripple. He was after all pretty shallow, when one thought about it. Not that he fucking cared.

Before Hinata had the time to chop her left hand's first phalanges off, Sasuke stepped forward and grabbed her wrist … almost getting his palm cut open in the process. Surprise made her turn around. To ensure she would not tear her arm out of his grip, he slammed her wrist onto the hard granite surface by the sink and effectively pushed her against the counter with his hips.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?", Sasuke hissed between his clenched teeth.

He had expected shock. And he had gotten it. But … it is what followed it that left him puzzled. His attack had made her throw her head back and meet his searing black eyes. At first, before shock had appeared on her pretty features, she had looked so strange. He couldn't decide whether her fake mask had been on or whether she had just been having an emotional black-out.

Her lips had been parted. Her skin had looked waxy. But as her eyes, cold and stony, had travelled down the column of his neck, across his collarbone, across his chest, they had come alive. Frenzy had filled them. Hinata had looked up at him. Then down at his body. Then up at him again. Her waxy skin had taken a crimson hue after an instant. Her parted lips had let a gasp escape. What the actual hell?!

Looking down at himself as well, Sasuke finally realized what the fuck it was that he had forgotten. He had been so taken up with the new Naruto-Hinata development, wondering what the fuck their relationship could be that he'd forgotten to … put clothes on. He was pressing his hips against Hinata. With nothing but his black cotton boxers separating him from ground zero (actually, when one thought about it, that part of the female anatomy really was the ground zero of life; interesting). Okay, well there still was her skirt and her underwear (if she wore any, that is).

However, any chick that had known Uchiha Sasuke intimately and had experienced the extent of his skills could guarantee that the real barriers separating her from a pleasurable night of screaming that would leave her hoarse and reeling were his clothes. Never hers.

Fact was, the unexpected part wasn't even Hinata's shock at seeing Uchiha Sasuke mostly naked. Nope. The part that made him feel like he'd just been clipped at the back of the head with a two-by-four was … her checking him out. Shy, stuttering Hyūga Hinata, the master of mixed signals and in extremis situations (how many times had he avoided tearing her panties off and having raw-dog sex with her again? The sheer power of his self-control was impressive, goddammit), was checking out Sasuke's pecs. And … enjoying the view? He wasn't really sure. What he was sure about was that her eyes had stopped going up and down and were set on the muscles of his chest. Well, set ... They actually just stayed there for a split of an instant before moving down his ribs, gazing at his six-pack … at his navel.

Hinata was out of it. As if someone had clipped her at the back of the head with a two-by-four (there was something to be said about kindred spirits, the little power couple even associated fuzzy feelings with the same gratuitously violent acts). So out of it she actually forgot the enticing specimen of pure male seduction that was pushing her against her kitchen counter (her kitchen counter; let us remember Uchiha Sasuke wasn't the only territorial alpha male around the place, hadn't Hinata's rational side of the brain just been punched to unconsciousness, she would have told Uchiha Sasuke to politely step out … potentially threatening him with that knife she had been using) was the Uchiha Sasuke, her husband. Whose main working tool she had dangerously wounded that very morning. And while he was busy pressing himself temptingly against her, she found herself comparing this body she had the opportunity to admire up close to the men she had seen naked … or partially naked.

He was not as square as her father or Neji were. His shoulders were narrower and so were his hips. He was certainly not as muscular as Kiba. Or even Shino. His body did not give off a flashy vibe as Uzumaki Naruto's did. And he certainly wasn't as thin and flexible as Kō. And not as tall as either one of them. No. Uchiha Sasuke was all about the lean power. Honestly, what was it with her comparing him to so many different types of males whenever they were about to finally get down to business?!

Hinata's throat went dry as she saw the muscles of his stomach flex and coil under his pale, scar-covered flesh. She was left dazed and enticed by his looks. Like so many others before her. She couldn't fight the fascination. There had been a reason why all the women had run after Uchiha Sasuke. The disdainful, sardonic curve of his lips, that nonetheless promised passionate kisses. The coldness of his dark eyes, that still appeared velvety and savage. That body that spoke of speed, suppleness and power.

His behavior left such a humiliating mark on a woman's soul. And his body made any sane female go up in flames of desire (Hinata had not been sane for a while, running after shadows and illusions as if she were strung up on something fierce; good to know that now that she was shaken by tremors and had delusions walking in on her every now and then, she was on the right path to sanity; thank you, Uchiha Sasuke). Humiliation and pleasure. The two magic words to make all women bow to a man's superior reproductive qualities.

And Hinata was falling for the bullshit. Not that she cared at that instant. In fact, pride wasn't even a concept she would be able to define were she asked to in such a situation. Her tremors increased exponentially as she let the feel of Sasuke's palm against the sensitive skin of her wrist settle in. In fact, shivers intermingled with the quivers, running down her spine, her neck, across her breasts. Making her nipples harden. And pulling a string connected to her lower stomach.

She wasn't the only one overwhelmed by these unexpected sensations. Guess what. Yeah. Exactly. Sasuke was getting hard again. Oh, give him a fucking break. He wasn't a sissy (sure he wasn't). His dick had been sore and sulky for half the day. It got over the shit that had hit the fan in the morning. He had maintained barely a few seconds ago he would never bed Hyūga Hinata ag– Come the fuck on. He'd had his shaft squashed. He'd had a shitty conversation with his būchō and Naruto had appeared out of nowhere to fuck some shit up. Again. Sasuke deserved a reward for not having blown the village up.

He let his own eyes wander a little bit. How long and thick her eyelashes were. To the point he wondered whether they weren't fake, in fact. Nah, Sakura loved fake eyelashes. She pasted the shit all over her face (well she would have, had she been more insane than she truly was). This went to say Sasuke knew by heart what the shit looked like. And Hinata's didn't give off that cheap, plastic-y vibe at all. Her eyelashes naturally formed fans around her eyes. Shielding them from Sasuke's penetrating stare. Her nose, he noticed, beside a small, blue scar, also gave the impression of being slightly crooked. Very slightly so. Only an experienced or interested eye could have noticed such details about Hyūga Hinata. He'd taken a good hard look a few months ago, and it is only now, with blood beating in his ears, the fabric of his underwear creating an enticing, irritating and ever so pleasurable friction on his skin, that Sasuke realized how many things he had missed about her.

Now was the moment he went macho on the situation and tried to make himself believe he didn't give a shit about all these small things. Unfortunately, all the blood that generally rotted his brain and transformed him into a retarded misogynist had flown down to his dick. In fact, his shaft was so engorged Sasuke would have wondered at there being blood anywhere else in his body hadn't all his cognitive abilities been hijacked alongside the blood. And fuck him, his dumb handle seemed to appreciate all the subtleties that rendered Hinata's whole so tempting.

As the battle between the region below her husband's navel and above his shoulders degenerated into a bloody civil war, Hinata snapped out of her mindless gawk. However, she did not fully regain control over her own cognitive abilities. The idea Sasuke was in front of her, his naked chest giving off a warmth she could almost feel penetrating through her clothes, did not settle in. She did lift her head, her eyes did meet his. Yet, she felt as if she had been sucked out of her own body. And another entity had taken hold of the shell of flesh that had been hers. Was this the feeling that led girls into having one-night stands with complete strangers? Endangering their health. And safety.

Hinata did not know. Hinata did not care. A soft rosy hue was covering her cheekbones. But it was far from the rich, worrying crimson color that infused her skin whenever she found herself in an embarrassing situation. She was not embarrassed. She was simply in that type of dangerous daze that made young people take ridiculously stupid decisions. Some sort of torpor that gave one the impression of being invincible. A dumbass act that made kids snort cocaine. Girls follow shady types to their apartments, from which they seldom came out in one piece.

And Sasuke's … brick (you know, at the interface of brain and dick) realized as much. Where the fuck had the fidgeting, the screaming and all the pain-in-the-ass-ery gone, huh?! Their eyes remained focused on each other's only for a split of a second. But it had been more than enough for him to grasp a primitive understanding of what she wanted. Something he could give her, something he had become a pro at. Sex with no strings attached.

What was that strange, little pang in the center of his chest? He sure as fuck hoped he wasn't about to have a heart attack (he was too young to hit the bucket in such a glorious way; that was reserved for obscenely rich, obese daimyō's preying on twinkies). And why did his mood take somewhat of a small dive. He was about to hit a homerun, nothing to get pissy about. On the contrary. He must have been going bipolar, only explanation to his own wonky mood swings. Not something he wanted to spend time considering. His mental health had always been the least of his concerns. Funny shit, since it precisely was what the whole world had been alarmed by for a while.

Hinata's eyes were hazed, a thick fog rising from their depths, guarding her soul, shielding it from the curious. But they were not empty, they were not dead. She did not pull away from him. Not because she couldn't grasp what was happening, on the contrary. She simply did not want to pull away from him. Hinata had not lost touch with reality. She had just lost touch with Uchiha Sasuke.

The feelings Naruto had roused in her mind and … heart … were preying on her, lacerating her loins. So similar, so very similar, to the pain thoughts of Neji brought her. And so very different. Neji made her suffer for him. Made her cry because of his destiny. Made her regret her actions towards him. Naruto on the other made her suffer because of herself. Made her clench her teeth at the humiliation that burned her airways (it was quite surprising she did not spit fire at the very mention of him). Made her wish to hurt herself.

Fortunately, a few days ago, she had discovered an effective alternative to laudanum when it came to hazing her own mind. A man's lips on her flesh, his hands on her body, his breath caressing her skin, his body inside of hers. Some man. Any man. In fact, after having tasted Kō's kisses, after having had his own feelings seep into her through the fabric of their clothes, Hinata would have ventured to say feelings and sex (even though Kō and her had never reached such a level of intimacy) did not mix well. The cocktail was too bitter for her taste. If his kisses had had the metallic taste of blood, she could just imagine how his taking possession of her body would have been painful. And she was not thinking about physical pain.

She wanted the carelessness of a stranger. Someone that was in it for the gratification of his own cravings. Who came to take pleasure without an afterthought. Respect, affection, tenderness, closeness. All those terms sounded foul when she had Uchiha Sasuke's powerful body claiming hers while Uzumaki Naruto pranced about her mind. Once upon a time, Hinata had wanted softness, just a little bit of softness. She had gotten raw pain and humiliation. Now she wanted that raw pain that was the only thing she seemed to be deserving.

She did not realize how lucky an event her marriage had been. Had her feelings been left to prey on her, Hinata would have looked for relief among the walls of the Hyūga mansion as so many of her relatives, lovely, sad butterflies that fluttered about the mansion's hallways, had. She would have become the whore of the compound eventually. Falling as low as to abandon herself in the arms of the likes of Hyūga Tokuma. Neji, Naruto, Kō would have pulled her into disgrace.

But there was no need for that now. Because she had been married to the very cure to her delusions. Or at least to the right opiate that would give her a temporary relief. Uchiha Sasuke had proven once he could wipe the plate clean for a split of an instant. Push all of Hinata's fears aside. Make her forget everything about her responsibilities.

He would make her forget about Uzumaki Naruto and her disgrace. At least until the morrow. A strange thought, since she had accused him of having shamed her in the same way Naruto had. Oh, what did she care! There was no place for consistency between the two of them. They were doomed to contradiction. One thing held when their genitalia were safely sheathed. Another when they were about to smash them together.

The past was the past. Yesterday was yesterday. It was the now that made Hinata part her lips ever so slightly. An invitation. A supplication. A wish to be saved. A desire to be submitted.

Just that Uchiha did not ask for any begging on her part. His mouth simply crashed onto hers, bruising her lips. Bringing back memories of three days ago. She did not gasp this time. Her jaw was not locked. His tongue slipped in without an effort on his part. And encountered her own yielding, compliant tongue. He did not know how to do this softly.

She didn't seem to give an actual fuck. She just wanted a fuck. That last thought brought back that same goddamn pang he'd felt a few seconds ago. There was something to be said about one's cock absorbing all the blood in the body. Sasuke was having fucked up heart spasms. And he hadn't even undressed the woman yet.

Rage was an excellent fuel where Uchiha Sasuke was concerned. Mixed with sex, it ended up in great orgasms on his part. He'd proven as much three days ago. And you know what? He didn't feel like letting that little show Hinata had had going on that very morning and that had almost transformed him into a member of the Dickless Wonder Fraternity (Iroha would remain alone after all) go.

His tongue became more invasive, more demanding. Hinata's head was thrown back. And that was exactly what she wanted. As an electric shock travelled down her spine, Uzumaki Naruto disappeared in thin air again. She forgot everything about him. At that point, she even forgot she had ever known him. Naruto who?!

Where she found the courage to let the tip of her tongue touch Sasuke's, she did not know. She was not Hinata anymore at that point. She was any girl one could pick up at a bar. Minus the experience. And that is what made Sasuke hesitate for a split of an instant.

This simple caress he had experienced millions of times with millions of women was imperceptible when Hyūga Hinata offered it. A flutter that made him wonder whether he wasn't dreaming the whole thing. One flutter he had already felt against his flesh a few days ago. One he had desired ever since.

There was something so deeply erotic in this inexperience that was purely hers. Something novel. Something reluctant. And something fully accepting. She battled against herself. She battled against her natural timidity. Against her desire for what was bound to happen.

And when she lost, Sasuke came out as the winner. Because when Hyūga Hinata lost miserably, she welcomed him into her like an abandoned goddess welcomes an infidel pilgrim into her violated shrine. With a sensual, a desperate abandon that he had never experienced with other women. Other women never battled. They gave in. They chased him. They used all types of subterfuges to attract him. And the only thing that ever remained of them were a few droplets of sweat on his shirt.

Sasuke had said so previously. He was fucking sick of common trophies. Fuck going to the zoo and shooting a panda in the head. He wanted a safari. He wanted the fearful eyes of wildcats. Their attempts to escape him. And their final sigh as he made all their defenses fall.

He also wanted to hurt Hinata. To punish her. What for? For Naruto? For his dick? For Neji? For her family? For the long months of cold turkey (and he wasn't thinking about cocksucking food) she had served him?! He didn't know. He didn't even know what those spasms in his chest had meant (actually, they hadn't had anything to do with blood flow). But he wanted her to cry out.

And there were so many ways to do it. He could grab her by the hair. He could draw blood from her neck. He could strangulate her. Hell, to some bitches, fucked up shit like that had been nothing but an intro. All the crap he'd been asked to do! Sick, nauseating crap. Crap Uchiha Sasuke would have been expected to deliver to whomever simply asked for it. And even when he'd been tired and had wanted nothing but some slow fuck to calm his dick and make it pass through another day, he'd catered to their sickening desires.

However, as full of incoherent rage as he was, as lustful and beastly as he might have felt, there still was this safe-switch in his brain that turned off the machine and gave him a few seconds of lucidity, a breather, before the system resumed. And sometimes, that teeny tiny split of an instant made all the difference between him burning down a whole village or simply passing by and leaving its inhabitants unharmed.

Would Sasuke have been willing to sacrifice all he could have with Hyūga Hinata to satisfy this one vulgar craving of hurting her? Would he have been willing to sacrifice her future sighs of pleasure? Her fingers, soft, innocent, curious, exploring his body? Her lips burning his flesh, desiring nothing but to please him and only him?

No.

And the course of history was changed. Uchiha Sasuke ruining, wrecking his inexistent, but budding, relationship with his wife had been averted. All hail the brain safety-switch! But that did not mean he was done with her. Fuck, no.

His free hand went for her right breast. Without preamble. Without a warning. He squeezed, regretting the presence of a bra under the delicate fabric of her black shirt. Sasuke would have to get rid of the offending piece of clothing. In fact, he wanted her naked. He had had not had the chance to see what it was she was hiding under her clothes that frustrated and irritated him. He had an idea, but he wanted to confirm. In fact, he could swear he couldn't remember anything about her body. He had to take another, more complete and clear-headed, look at what he had married.

And with how Hinata was responding to him, Sasuke was sure he would get what he wanted. And he wanted to coerce her a little bit at least, if he wasn't allowed to hurt her. Lifting her hand still holding the knife, he slammed it against the counter once more. Harsher this time, with his thumb pressed against the inside of her wrist.

A paralyzing pain travelled through her whole arm. The only thing informing her what had happened was the clunk of the knife sliding into the sink. She crashed right into reality. She had one of Sasuke's hands pressing her right breast. His teeth were set into the soft flesh of her lower lip. His muscles were coiling at each one of his breaths, mesmerizing her. And that hard ridge digging into her lower stomach was purely him. Uchiha Sasuke was claiming her. As she had wanted, as she had despaired for.

So of course, when he grabbed onto the hem of her black shirt, making a sudden move to pull the thing over her head, she simply lifted her arms and let him do it. Of course. Not. In fact, when he did make a little bit of a violent attempt to get the shirt over her breasts, she used her free hand to counteract his actions, pulling the thing back down. What the actual fuck?! Sasuke pulled it back up. Blushing, quivering Hinata pulled it back down. And look who was back from her daydream.

Strangely, her opening her mouth grotesquely, breathing through it ridiculously and having her eyes bulging out like those of a crazy cow was … endearing?! And he was … happy?! To have her back?! This sounded too strange for him to spend any more time pondering it. He'd just lost a perfectly willing, standard bar-girl. And gotten his shy, indecisive and slightly hysteric wife back. Life made sense again, yippee!

Leaning into her, one of his hands still holding the hem of her shirt, the other slowly sliding from her abused wrist, Hinata felt a few strands of Sasuke's hair caressing her cheek. And the smell that was purely him filling her nostrils. She had the clear impression she was not in her kitchen anymore. No. The smell of pines brought back memories of forests, of soft rays of sun filtering through thick foliage. It was so long since she had been pushed against the trunk of a tree. Since demanding, dominating, possessive lips had kissed her to wake her up from a nightmare-filled slumber. Uchiha Sasuke had been supposed to push her past aside, not to bring it back to life. Hadn't he been supposed to exorcise her from Neji?! It seemed that his powers could only take care of one problem at a time. Hinata was doomed to be tortured by Neji when she submitted Naruto. And by Naruto when she submitted Neji.

She did not realize Sasuke had stopped his ministrations only to retrieve the knife that had slid into the sink. He'd decided he would not hurt her. But he could still frighten her a little bit. After all, fright was also part of sensual games. Hinata could not even fathom what was bound to happen, battling her own desire to pass a hand through Sasuke's black hair, to sweep her tongue over the skin of his neck, where a powerful tendon was stretched. All humans were animals of desire, just that social norms and family rules found a way to curb their natural impulses. And so, Hinata did nothing but freeze, waiting for Sasuke to resume with his own actions.

Just that she hadn't expected those actions involving a knife, her knife. Or it appearing a few inches from her nose.

"We can do this the nice way. Or …"

Sasuke was purring into her ear. His hot breath and his voice, velvety, silky making her lower stomach contract painfully. Or was it the fact she had the blade of a knife caressing her jawline, tracing a pulsating vein on her neck and resting against her collarbone. Yet, as his cheek caressed hers and he threw his head back to look at her, his eyes were not menacing, a taunting smirk grazing his lips slightly. They were sinfully dark. Arrogant. And a fire burned in the midst of their pupil. A fire that wanted to consume her whole. Burn her like a witch. Until her ashes were carried away by the wind.

"Or … I can cut your shirt to pieces. What will it be, Hyūga?"

As he spoke, the hand that wasn't holding the knife, caressed Hinata's hip softly. Slid down to her thigh. Pulled at her long skirt slowly. Lifting it more at ever stroke of his fingers. While the knife remained on her skin, cool and menacing. She liked that shirt.

As soon as Sasuke felt the smooth, cool flesh of her thigh, a twitch in his trousers ordered him to speed things up. But he didn't want to. He liked how Hinata was looking at him. Torn between fear and yearning. Not aware herself of what he could see in her eyes. He loved how her blush deepened as he lifted her thigh and curled it around his hip. Pressed himself further into her, getting rid of one of her defenses of fabric. Her lips parted as he caressed his way up her white flesh, almost reaching the very region where he knew she wanted him to be.

She expected it. She expected his fingers. And rigidified at the very thought of it. But did not make a move to push him away. For a split of an instant, the fear overpowered the desire. And Sasuke would have laughed at it. What a strange woman the Hyūga had given him. One that feared pleasure more than she feared a menacing blade a few inches from her carotid. Strange woman, indeed. His hand did not slide in further. There would be enough time for that later.

"What will it be, Hyūga?", Sasuke repeated.

Hinata's hands shot out, free as they were, and covered her breasts. Oh? She preferred to have her shirt destroyed? He lifted a sardonic eyebrow at her as she lowered her head, hiding under the dark veil of her hair. Sasuke made the knife travel across her skin, slightly grazing the neck of the offending piece of clothing.

Hinata liked that shirt. She really did. And she hoped it would appreciate what she was about to do to save its life. She really did.

It was with pure triumph that Sasuke examined his wife slowly peeling her hands off of her breasts. Lifting first the forearms. Then her elbows. Just enough for Sasuke to be able to grab onto her shirt with both hands. And marvelling at how her leg remained curled around him. Another sign he wasn't coercing her into anything. She wanted this as much as he did.

In no time, there was no shirt left to shield Hinata from Sasuke's prying eyes. Of course, she had the same reflex to hide her breasts once again, but he was faster. In no time, his lips were back on hers. He didn't let her the time to fidget, regret, resist. One hand buried itself into her thick, black mane, holding her head still. The other slipped into her cotton bra, dislodging it to permit him better access.

White cotton?! He had not seen white cotton since … Uchiha Sasuke had never seen white cotton on a woman. On the road, most of the girls you met were naked under their clothes. And village girls were all about the skimpy lingerie. Sasuke hadn't even known there were bras made out of cotton. And he couldn't have ever fathomed the shit was so … so … refreshing. She hadn't planned this. She hadn't expected this. Sasuke had caught her off-guard. Ninja-style. Look at his balls expanding in ease.

And he wanted to have a good hard look at her. Peeling away from her lips once again, he let the hand at the back of her head explore the nape of her, stroke down her shoulder blades and reach the clasp of her bra.

Strangely, the great, the wonderful, the astounding Avenger sucked at unclasping bras without having his nose inches from the clasp and squinting for good measure. So he simply used the hand that was already at the scene of the crime and pulled the cups down. Liberating the most glorious creation of all the deities of the Shintō pantheon.

Gods existed. Because Hyūga Hinata could not have been merely made. Spawned. She could not merely be the by-product of a sperm cell gnawing at an ovule and penetrating it before ten thousands of its bros.

No. She must have been designed by a Being from above.

Pushing softly at her shoulder, he made her arch her back. His throat went dry. He still wasn't over the fact he had evaded this for almost a whole year. What had been wrong with him?! He'd never forgive himself. But of course, nothing was so simple where Sasuke and Hinata were concerned. As the bones of her ribs strained against her skin, his eye caught something. That froze him to the bone.

Her skin was white as snow. Perfect and unmarred. At least, so he had always thought (well, there was that small scar on her nose that didn't count for anything). The last time he had been close to undress her, a thick obi had been concealing everything from her sternum down to her navel. And had Sasuke seen what had been underneath it, it might have cooled him down.

He had no idea who had done that to her. However, the scar that ran down her sternum and stopped at the height of her seventh rib was surprising. Surprising in its intimacy. It had not healed well. Which implied a powerful shinobi had made it, more powerful than any mednin that had gotten to her to save her life. The sternum must have been destroyed and the goal to reach had been the heart.

The scar in itself was large, purple and the flesh had become so transparent Sasuke could see the veins that had created a disordered network meant to unsuccessfully oxygenize the regenerated tissues. Her stomach might have been damaged. Someone had used fire jutsu on her, as proved the burn marks around the scar. And electrocuted her as well? It would have explained the tangled vein network.

The one that had done that to her had aimed for a maximum of damage and a slow death. The person had been too precise to miss the heart. And too cruel, as well. His hand left her breast and came to graze that strange region, proof of a past Sasuke could not imagine. When had the hime of a great shinobi clan ever found herself in a situation of life and death? Had she not had slaves to protect her? Obviously not.

Where had darling Neji been, huh? A queasy pressure settled in his stomach. Dead, most probably. A man on whose shoulder a woman leaned with such unrestraint as Hinata had on Neji's could not, would not let her be maimed in such a way. Then again, Sasuke had had Sakura throwing herself at his feet, hugging his knees, pulling at his clothes and crying with abandon. And he hadn't exactly shied away from using his techniques on her.

As soon as Hinata stopped feeling Sasuke's fingers on her she realized something was off. Straightening up, her eyes strayed down her breasts without seeing them. That scar she had forgotten was covered by a pale hand. But not as pale as her own. To her own surprise a guttural cry, between a growl and a moan, made her throat vibrate.

In a swift movement, Sasuke felt two small, cold hands pushing at his shoulders. He stepped back, leaving her body and letting a strange tingle settled in his fingertips. Coldly, he examined the transformation that took place in front of him. The modest, yet sensual, keen blush that had covered Hinata's cheeks got diluted by a deadly whiteness. In an aggressive way, the way of a humiliated woman, she pulled the cups of her bra up, her eyes twinkling with an emotion he had never seen in their midst. Hatred.

And she did feel it. As she looked at the very man who had laid his hands on her, who had crippled her and who obliviously examined his handy-work, she felt bile fill her mouth. But it was not him she hated as her eyes sharply bore through his. It was not the mocking arrogance that suffused his whole person that she loathed. It was the very fact she had found herself in a position of weakness in front of him that made Hinata stare right at danger.

At once, it was as if she was on the battlefield again, the drums of death beating in her bosom. Death had been so close. So close she had tasted Neji's blood on her tongue. She remembered her father's words when she had still been young. She had been reciting some epic poetry to him and Hōheto-san, her koto against her knee. Hōheto-san had observed, in his colorless, bored voice, how chanting improved her stutter.

In fact, when she sung or recited, she did not stutter at all. Her father had simply tilted his head to the side, his brow twitching at Hōheto's vulgar interruption. Hōheto-san had yawned not long after that, shifting on his haunches. However, to please his lord and master, he had listened on to the hime's laments.

Once she had been done with the poem, her father had opened his eyes and pinned her with his cold, ominous stare. His words had been such to be remembered for a lifetime:

'History is a cursed spiral. Events repeat themselves from year to year, from era to era. Ongoing in their unbreakable sequence. And this curse will last until the annihilation of deceitful historians permitting it to thrive. Do remember however: all humans are deceitful. And all historians are human.'

He had been right. Standing in front of Sasuke, her arms shielding her body as well as they could, she was back to that day. That day that had earned her the wounds Sasuke had been inspecting.

Years ago, they had been standing in front of each other, smoke and dust rolling all around them. Just that in his eyes, she had seen an indiscriminate disgust. A disgust not towards his enemies, his opponents, but towards humanity. And in hers? What had been in hers? She couldn't very well ask him, could she?!

Sasuke misunderstood the strange glance she shot him. Or at least, partly misunderstood it. He saw the humiliation. He saw the anger and the hatred. He took into account she would have preferred to bypass that part where he fondled her there. There honestly was something deeply fucked with Sasuke. He could transform the most cocksucking-ly serious moment into a godforsaken comedy show. Fondling her there.

Hah! He wished. The there had been in reference to the scar, not … there. You know, down there. Ah, fuck it. Just looking at her giving him that angst-y stare, of a quality he hadn't seen since the war, he knew he'd just screwed over a great opportunity to get under her skirt.

Well, no, actually he would have known as much had something horrible not happened. He had actually decided to try his chance at it again (because Sasuke was a stubborn man that could take a clue … and ignore it as he saw fit). Had it not been for the shit hitting the fan for the sixtieth time of the day, he would have never let her bend over and grab onto her shirt. Sweep it off the floor. Her fierce glare hidden between long strands of black hair. So similar to the glare of a hungry panther. Hiding behind luxurious flowers and plants, in the darkest corners of a thick jungle.

But well, as said, the shit had hit the fan and the spell had gone to suck a pair of balls. Sasuke had never heard the horrible sound their damn doorbell made. Until then. What the actual fuck?! As he rigidified all over (while his rod did the complete opposite; the asshole had always had a mind of its own), Hinata almost fell on her back. How she pulled that off, he had no cocksucking idea. Most of her body mass was tipping towards the front, bent over as she was. The laws of gravity honestly didn't apply to that woman.

And Sasuke's day had gone from shitty to excruciatingly shitty to potentially good and back to shitty. The last "shitty" wasn't so much due to that scar he'd seen. It didn't turn him off, or anything. It just surprised him. Hell, he'd fucked chicks that had had most of their bodies burned. And he hadn't batted an eyelash. Just that … Hyūga Hinata had been supposed to have had an easy and pampered life. The type of life that had driven her sister into becoming a snotty, entitled, opinionated piece of imperialistic shit.

He examined how she pulled her hair out of the shirt she'd passed over her head. She'd straightened up swiftly and turned away from Sasuke before dressing up. Yup, no humpa-lumpa for him, after all. He couldn't see her face. He couldn't see her eyes. The only thing he was left to look at was her taking support on the marble counter of the kitchen for an instant.

Throwing her shoulders backs. Turning on her heels. A small smile, as fake as her whole life had always been, etched on her lips, she faced him. Hyūga Hinata. As the whole world had always known her. Shy and reluctant. Unsure and unassertive. Just that there was no blush covering her cheeks. And though her lips opened in the way of an embarrassed woman, her voice was as trenchant as the blade of Sasuke's lost sword.

"Forgive m-me, danna-sama."

Forgive me. How much those word had cost her. He would never know. He would never know where that scar came from. Over her cold, dead body. She'd seen the surprise in his eyes. She'd felt his hesitation against her skin. Too bad she couldn't see her own eyes as she walked out of the kitchen, leaving behind whatever she had been doing before Sasuke had assaulted her. Had she had a good look at herself, she might have gotten scared. And understood some things about herself. But that would have made things too easy.

In the living room, for a split of an instant, she took support on the wall, knowing full well that whomever it was that had come would wait. Eventually, she did make it to the intercom. Punching a button in, she passed an annoyed hand over her forehead. Her voice sounded deep to her ear as she let a simple "yes" fall from her lips.

"Uchiha-hime? May I let the group of Hyūga servants you requested in through the service door?"

Reality hit her like a freight-train. And she completely forgot her scar, or the fact that Uchiha Sasuke, more handsome than ever, and mostly naked, had almost … Yeah. Rubbing frantically at her brow, something between a resigned sigh and a humiliated sob shaking her throat, she nodded at the intercom. Forgetting it wasn't a goddamn camera.

"Uchiha-hime?"

She jumped at the voice still being there.

"Ah … ano … uhm. Yes! A-absolutely!"

A hesitance. The security guard couldn't very well ask her whether she was ok, knowing full well the man of the house was back. So he turned the intercom off and threw his head back. Such a sweet little thing, and so ridiculously young … married to such an asshole. None of them had ever seen that Uchiha bastard as much as smile, let alone be nice to anyone.

Well, at the end of the day, the only thing he could do was punch in a button and let the Hyūga servants in through the service door. Follow their movements towards the service elevator through the surveillance camera, marvelling at the synchronicity of their precise steps. And when they stepped into the elevator, there was nothing for him to do anymore. But sigh.

One of the daimyō's sons had bought an apartment in the building for an expat from Tetsu no Kuni, a former geisha from one of the most famous hanamichi in the world. And he made less of a fuss about security when he came to visit her than the Hyūga about cleaning the fifteenth floor. Little did the security guard know that there was one person in this world to whom such ceremonious solemnity was not annoying, was not a matter of mockery, but a thorn in the heart. A wound to a delicate pride.

Hinata had fallen as low as to beg her family, whose help she had disdained at more than one occasion, for some reinforcements. She, who had grown so tall, felt so small as she stood in her large entranceway, felt vanquished and broken. That and … she wouldn't have said no to a change of panties. Pressing her thighs together, she wished to push aside some very steamy thoughts that did not befit the situation. While Sasuke had grabbed the waistline of his boxers, pulled it from his body and examined the abandoned battlefield.

And they arrived. The Servants. With Miuri-san at their head. Large as she was, red and fat, her face devoid of any wrinkles, she had been a celebrated beauty. When large women had been in vogue. Some said that at the height of her loveliness, as a young girl (and young girl in the Hyūga could be very young), she had even, her plump, jovial face reddened by a perverse blush, enjoyed the strong, albeit fleeting, favor of Hōheto-sama's revered father. It had gained her a nice little independence. And a rounded stomach, that had lasted nine months and filled her breasts with the milk that had fed the heir to the Hyūga clan.

And when that heir had overthrown the Reigning Sun, Miuri-san had seen a frightened, uneducated and uncultured hime be introduced to the compound as the new Lady. Her one and only son, lieutenant in the now inexistent Hyūga cavalry, die during the Fourth War. A first little hime be born. A second little hime be born and the Lady die. And finally, she had finally seen herself demoted and replaced by the likes of that cunning Natsu.

Yet, she had not left. When Hiruka-sama had stepped down, she could have packed her belongings and removed herself to her little house in the best Bunke neighbourhood. She could have heartily enjoyed the few times her son, her handsome, her tall son, would ride down from his encampment amidst Kusa no Kuni's steppes and come kiss his mother's chubby cheek.

But no. She had stayed. She had stayed behind out of pity. Out of pity for a tubby little butt she had wiped. For small, white teeth breaking through and the wails of suffering that had followed. She had stayed behind because there had been a very depressed, very misunderstood young woman, dressed in nothing but a silken mantle. Kneeling in front of her vanity, her elbow resting on the wooden surface, her hands nervously rearranging hair ornaments, bottles of expensive unguents and her eyes never leaving her reflection. A young woman that had not heard her own newborns wails.

Miuri-san had been the one to find Hinata-hime a wet-nurse. The one to jump in place while sweeping the hallways of the mansion, with a baby attached to her back, drooling and chewing at her yukata. She had needed that little being as much as that little being had needed her. And she was guilty of not having done much to foster an increase in the mother's affection towards the toddler. But that too had been taken away from her. When that cursed young man had appeared. That young man with the wild eyes that had stolen the little hime and found thousands of ways to keep Miuri-san, or anyone else, for that matter, away from her.

And this was all that was left to Miuri-san. A handful of foolish servants under her guidance. A few wooden buckets. Brooms. Clothes to wipe the dust off of her old memories. And the knowledge her little pet, her spoiled little princess, her favorite among those decrepit, obsolete antiquities of another era that she called her masters, was asking to be helped in welcoming her husband's mistress.

It was with the frown of a worried mother that she and her company of noisy, reckless servant girls exited the large service elevator. Marching like a general readying himself to give his troupes one last, sinister speech, she squared her large shoulders, brandishing her broom menacingly at every step.

When she finally stopped in front of Hinata, she looked the girl up and down, clicked her tongue in disgust. And with her big, strong voice, made the walls of the whole building quake.

"What is wrong with you, daughter?! Any sane woman would chase her husband's mistress with a broom."

At those words, she flaunted the broom at Hinata, almost hitting her across the face.

"And what do you do?! You want to welcome her with a dinner!"

At that point, the old maid was waving her stubby fingers in front of the poor girl's nose. While Hinata's jaw was almost sweeping the floor. What mistress?! But Miuri-san was far from done with her.

"I've always told your father you were being raised the wrong way. What good has it done you, learning to pull at ugly flowers and to write pretty, useless sonnets and being sent to Tetsu no Kuni to play with swords and run about with a scythe, as if you were a shinigami, Gods have mercy on my soul. He should have left you mingle more with your cousins. Now, those girls would have screwed that head of yours solidly on straight, let me tell you."

Hinata had been quite sure the humiliation of asking her father for a hand would burn less than the humiliation she would have felt at Haruno Sakura walk in on her unprepared. Well, she hadn't counted on her dear otō-san sending in Miuri-san. She might have survived not being up to Haruno Sakura's standards after all.

During that time, at the Hyūga compound, Tokuma happily sauntered out of the dining hall. Giving an interesting rendition of the Little Red Riding Hood, after having let all hell break loose. As was his habit. Being the general of the Hakanai, a little birdy had chirped to his ear that Uchiha Sasuke would receive Haruno Sakura (and that useless addition that was Uzumaki Naruto) at Hinata's place.

And he had chosen the right moment to play telephone at the dining table. When he had been most sure Hanabi would hear his words, as he murmured them to Hiruka's ear. He had let the rest unfold by itself. Kō's reflexes as he had caught all of Hiashi's dishes, flying about the place, alongside the table, had been impressive. In fact, Hiruka had been toppled over and Tokuma had raised the sleeve of his dark yukata to protect his fragile, delicate features. But Hiashi had remained seated, calmly and dignifiedly accepting the salmon strips Kō had previously tasted. And caught in midair.

In the background, enraged as was her habit, Hanabi roared at the top of her lungs:

"What mistress?!"

x.x.x